And the selfe same game
Begone ys nowe with shame
Amongest the sely nonnes:
My lady nowe she ronnes,
Dame Sybly our abbesse,
Dame Dorothe and lady Besse,
Dame Sare our pryoresse,
Out of theyr cloyster and quere
With an heuy chere,
Must cast vp theyr blacke vayles[1738].
The nunneries dissolved were Littlemore (1525), Wix (1525), Fairwell (1527), and St Mary de Pré, St Albans, of which all went to Cardinal College, except Fairwell, which went to Lichfield Cathedral. Of these Littlemore, under the evil prioress Katherine Wells, had been in a state of great disorder since 1517[1739], while Cardinal Morton’s famous letter of 1490 showed that there was at least suspicion of immoral relations between the nuns of St Mary de Pré and the monks of St Albans[1740]. Of the other two nunneries little is known at this time, save that they were very small; there were four nuns at Wix. Another house, Davington in Kent, vanished only a few months before the act would have dissolved it; in 1535 it was found before the escheator of the county that no nuns were left in it[1741].
NOTE I.
CHANSONS DE NONNES.
The theme of the nun in popular poetry deserves a more detailed study than it has yet received, both on account of the innate grace of the chansons de nonnes and on account of their persistence into modern times. The earliest examples (with the exception of the two old French poems quoted in the text) occur in German literature, always rich in folk song. With the song from the Limburg Chronicle and the Latin Plangit nonna fletibus should be compared the following amusing little poem:
Ich solt ein nonne werden
ich hatt kein lust dazu
ich ess nicht gerne gerste
wach auch nicht gerne fru;
gott geb dem kläffer unglück vil
der mich armes mägdlein
ins kloster haben wil!
Ins kloster, ins kloster
da kom ich nicht hinein,
da schneidt man mir die har ab,
das bringt mir schwäre pein;
gott geb dem kläffer unglück vil
der mich armes mägdlein
ins kloster haben wil!
Und wenn es komt um mitternacht
das glöcklein das schlecht an,
so hab ich armes mägdlein
noch keinen schlaf getan;
gott geb dem kläffer unglück vil
der mich armes mägdlein
ins kloster haben wil!
Und wenn ich vor die alten kom
so sehn sie mich sauer an,
so denk ich armes mägdlein
hett ich ein jungen man
und der mein stäter bule sei
so war ich armes mägdlein
des fasten und betens frei.
Ade, ade feins klösterlein,
Ade, nu halt dich wol!
ich weiss ein herz allerliebsten mein
mein herz ist freuden vol;
nach im stet all mein zuversicht,
ins kloster kom ich nimmer nicht,
ade, feins klösterlein![1742]
From the time of the Minnesingers comes a charming, plaintive little song, which rings its double refrain on the words “Lonely” and “O Love, what have I done?” It tells how the nun, behind a cold grating, thinks of her lover as she chants her psalter; and how her father and mother visit her and pray together, clad like gay peacocks, while she is shrouded in cord and cowl; and how
At even to my bed I go—
The bed in my cell is lonely.
And then I think (God, where’s the harm?)
Would my true love were in my arm!
O Love—what have I done?[1743]
A thirteenth century poem, hailing from Bavaria or Austria, strikes a more tragic note: