Among the miscellaneous manners and customs of the good nuns of Grace Dieu which are recalled to us in these faded papers of accounts, very few of course can find place here. One such is the yearly visit of the candle-maker to prepare the tallow dips for the dark winter evenings. The preparation made for his coming appears in the purchase of tallow and mutton fat to be used for rush-lights and cresset-lights, which must have done hardly more than make visible the darkness of a winter evening and an early winter morning at Grace Dieu. My lady prioress apparently had an oil lamp of some kind, and we read of special candles for the wash-place and at the door of the refectory, etc. It is to be supposed that the nuns had some means of warming themselves during the cold winter months, for we read of a travelling tinker employed upon mending a chimney to the hall fireplace, and probably they were burning logs from out of Charnwood somewhere or other; but in these accounts there is no mention of fuel except on one occasion, when Richard the Ironmonger had some coal purchased for him; but this was only that he might heat a ploughshare that had got out of shape.

Another most important matter in mediæval times was the annual salting of the winter provisions which took place in every establishment. On St. Martin’s Day, November 11th, the mediæval farmer considered seriously what was the number of his live stock, what was his store of hay, and how long the one could be kept by the other. The residue of the stock had to go into the salting-tub for the winter food of the family and dependants. So at Grace Dieu the purchase of the salt for the great operation is entered in the accounts. On one occasion also Dame Petronilla, “when a boar was killed”—whether by accident or not does not appear—had it spiced as well as salted, and it was no doubt served up on great occasions as a special delicacy in the common refectory.

The picture of the Grace Dieu nuns afforded by these accounts is that of charming, peace-loving ladies; good practical Christian women, as all nuns should be; taking a personal interest in the welfare of their tenants and dependants; occupied, over and besides their conventual and religious duties, in works of genuine charity. They taught the daughters of the neighbouring gentry, and were not too exacting in requiring even what had been promised as the annual pension. They encouraged ladies to come and join them in celebrating the festivals of the church, and out of their small means they set aside a not insignificant portion for the care and clothing of sick in their infirmary; whilst out of their income they found not less than eight corrodies—or pensions—which cost them £7 7s. 4d., or more than five per cent. of their annual revenue. Of their work mention has already been made. They grew the wool and spun it and wove it into cloth, not only for their own garments, but also for those of their retainers; whilst a chance entry of receipt reveals that they were indeed skilled in a high degree in ecclesiastical embroidery. That they were not guilty of “dilapidation” of their house their extensive repairs prove; and that they cared for their lands and farm buildings must be obvious from the purchases made, and the items of expense in connection with every kind of agricultural implement. They took their burden in common ecclesiastical expenses, even contributing their quota of 3d. towards the expenses of the Procurator cleri of the district to Convocation. They were peace-loving, if we may judge from the absence of all law expenses, save and except one small item for an appearance at the local marshal’s court, and whether even this was for themselves or for one of their tenants, and what it was about, does not appear. As it was only 2d., it could not have been much to interfere with the general harmony which apparently existed in the neighbourhood. They lived, too, within their income, which was, more or less, £103 13s. 6d. a year. It is true that in the first year, owing probably to the exceptional repairs which the nuns undertook, they went somewhat beyond their means. The sum was only slight, being but £7 11s. 10½d., and it is pleasant to observe that “out of love of the nuns,” and “to relieve the house of anxiety,” a lady paid the deficit, making her gift £7 12s.

Dame Petronilla and Dame Margaret! how little they could have thought when they penned their simple accounts that they would have given such pleasurable information five hundred years after their time! How little they could ever have dreamed of the pleasant light their jottings would have thrown on so many of their doings and their little ways! They were kind, prudent, charitable souls, without a doubt, and if they might at times have used better ink than they did, that fault was a point of holy parsimony. And if they might have given here and there just a little more information on certain points, they are willingly forgiven and more than forgiven, for what they have left to posterity. Their souls, oft so troubled and vexed by the many cares incidental to the office of a conventual Martha, have long doubtless been in peace, and their spirits no longer vexed by Richard the “Hyrenmonger” and the two Johns, the senior and junior plumbers. What would they think, could they to-day revisit the scene of their former labours and cares? The old home they evidently loved so well is past repairing now, and not even the kindly help of that old servant and friend of the convent, Henry Smith, could avail to suggest the best way of setting about reparation.

[Larger Image]

FRANCISCAN NUNS IN CHOIR

All the larger nunneries and probably most of the smaller ones, to whatever Order they belonged, opened their doors for the education of young girls, who were frequently boarders. In fact the female portion of the population, the poor as well as the rich, had in the convents their only schools, nuns their only teachers, in pre-Reformation times. Chaucer, in describing the well-to-do miller of Trompington, says—

“A wyf he hadde, come of noble kyn;
Sche was i-fostryd in a nonnery ...
Ther durste no wight clepe hir but Madame
What for hir kindred and hir nortelry
That sche had lerned in the nonnerye.”

John Aubrey, too, writes almost as an eye-witness of the Wiltshire convents that “the young maids were brought up ... at nunneries, where they had examples of piety, and humility, and modesty, and obedience to imitate and to practise. Here they learned needlework, the art of confectionery, surgery (for anciently there were no apothecaries or surgeons—the gentlewomen did cure their poor neighbours: their hands are now too fine), physic, writing, drawing, etc. Old Jacques could see from his house the nuns of the priory (St. Mary’s, near Kington St. Michael) come forth into the nymph-hay with their rocks and wheels to spin: and with their sewing work. He would say that he had told threescore and ten: but of nuns there were not so many, but in all, with lay sisters and widows, old maids and young girls, there might be such a number. This,” he concludes, “was a fine way of breeding up young women, who are led more by example than precept; and a good retirement for widows and grave single women to a civil, virtuous, and holy life.”