[A.D. 1140.] DISTRESSED STATE OF ENGLAND.
The whole of this year was embittered by the horrors of war. There were many castles throughout England, each defending their neighbourhood, but, more properly speaking, laying it waste. The garrisons drove off from the fields, both sheep and cattle, nor did they abstain either from churches or church-yards. Seizing such of the country vavassours[561] as were reputed to be possessed of money, they compelled them, by extreme torture, to promise whatever they thought fit. Plundering the houses of the wretched husbandmen, even to their very beds, they cast them into prison; nor did they liberate them, but on their giving every thing they possessed or could by any means scrape together, for their release. Many calmly expired in the midst of torments inflicted to compel them to ransom themselves, bewailing, which was all they could do, their miseries to God. And, indeed, at the instance of the earl, the legate, with the bishops, repeatedly excommunicated all violators of church-yards and plunderers of churches, and those who laid violent hands on men in holy or monastic orders, or their servants: but this his attention profited but little. It was distressing, therefore, to see England, once the fondest cherisher of peace and the single receptacle of tranquillity, reduced to such a pitch of misery, that, not even the bishops, nor monks, could pass in safety from one town to another. Under king Henry, many foreigners, who had been driven from home by the commotions of their native land, were accustomed to resort to England, and rest in quiet under his fostering protection: in Stephen’s time, numbers of freebooters from Flanders and Brittany flocked to England, in expectation of rich pillage. Meanwhile, the earl of Gloucester conducted himself with caution, and his most earnest endeavours were directed to gaining conquests with the smaller loss to his adherents. Such of the English nobility as he could not prevail upon to regard the obligation of their oath, he held it sufficient if he could so restrain, that, if they did not assist, they would not injure the cause: being willing, according to the saying of the comic writer, “To do what he could, when he could not do what he would.” But when he saw the opportunity present itself, he strenuously performed the duty both of soldier and of general; more especially, he valiantly subdued those strong holds, which were of signal detriment to the cause he had espoused; that is to say, Harpetrey, which king Stephen had taken from certain soldiers of the earl before he came to England, and many others; Sudley, Cerney, which the king had garrisoned, as I have said; and the castle which Stephen had fortified over against Wallingford, he levelled to the ground. He also, in these difficult times, created his brother Rainald, earl of Cornwall. Nor indeed did the king show less spirit in performing the duties of his station; for he omitted no occasion of repeatedly beating off his adversaries, and defending his own possessions. But he failed of success, and all things declined, for lack of justice. Dearth of provisions, too, increased by degrees, and the scarcity of good money was so great, from its being counterfeited, that, sometimes out of ten or more shillings, hardly a dozen pence would be received. The king himself was reported to have ordered the weight of the penny, as established in king Henry’s time, to be reduced, because, having exhausted the vast treasures of his predecessor, he was unable to provide for the expense of so many soldiers. All things, then, became venal in England; and churches and abbeys were no longer secretly, but even publicly exposed to sale.
[A.D. 1140.] ROBERT FITZ-HUBERT.
During this year, in Lent, on the thirteenth before the kalends of April, at the ninth hour of the fourth day of the week, there was an eclipse, throughout England, as I have heard. With us, indeed, and with all our neighbours, the obscuration of the sun was so remarkable, that persons sitting at table, as it then happened almost every where, for it was Lent, at first feared that chaos was come again: afterwards learning its cause, they went out, and beheld the stars around the sun. It was thought and said by many, not untruly, that the king would not continue a year in the government.
In the following week, that is, during the time of the Passion, on the seventh before the kalends of April, the forementioned barbarian, Robert Fitz-Hubert, a character well calculated for the stratagems of war, surprised the castle of Devizes:[562] a man, by far the most cruel of any within the circle of this age’s memory: blasphemous, also, towards God. He used voluntarily to boast of having been present at a place where twenty-four monks were burnt, together with the church, declaring, that he too would frequently do the like in England, and grieve God, by the plunder of the church of Wilton; and the destruction of Malmesbury, with the slaughter of all its monks: that he would return them this good office, because they had admitted the king, to his disadvantage: for of this he accused them, though without foundation. I myself have heard, when, at any time, which was extremely rare indeed, he liberated his captives without torture, and they thanked him for it, on the part of God, I have heard him, I say, reply; “never let God owe me any thanks.” He used to expose his prisoners, naked and rubbed with honey, to the burning heat of the sun; thereby exciting flies, and other insects of that kind, to sting them. But, having now got possession of Devizes, he hesitated not to boast, that, he should gain, by means of this castle, the whole district from Winchester to London; and that he would send to Flanders for soldiers to defend him. While meditating, however, such a scheme, divine vengeance overtook him through the agency of one John Fitz-Gilbert, a man of surprising subtlety, who had a castle at Marlborough. For being thrown into chains by him, because he refused to surrender Devizes to his sovereign, the empress, he was hanged, like a common thief. Wonderful was the judgment of God on this sacrilegious wretch, that he should meet with such an ignominious end, not from the king, to whom he was inimical, but from the very persons he appeared to favour. The authors of his death ought worthily to be extolled, for having freed the country from such a pest, and justly despatched an intestine enemy.
In the same year, during Pentecost, the king resided at London, in the Tower, attended only by the bishop of Sees, for the others disdained, or feared, to come thither. Some little time after, by the mediation of the legate, a conference was appointed between the empress and the king, that, if possible, by the inspiration of God, peace might be restored. To this conference, near Bath, were sent on the part of the empress, her brother Robert, and others of her friends: on the king’s, the legate, the archbishop, and also the queen. But they wasted words and time, to no purpose, and departed without being able to conclude a peace. Nor was the ground of separation equal on both sides, as the empress, more inclined to justice, had declared, that she was not averse to the decision of the church: but the king most cautiously avoided this; fondly trusting to the counsels of those persons who loved nothing less than peace, so long as they could make their ascendency over him answer their own purposes. In the latter end of September, the legate, who knew that it was the especial duty of his office to restore peace, undertaking the toil of a foreign voyage for its accomplishment, hastened to sail over to France. Here, a long and anxious discussion, for tranquillizing England, taking place, between the king of France, earl Theobald, and many of the clergy, he returned, nearly at the end of November, bringing back counsels wholesome for the country, could they have been carried into effect. And indeed the empress and the earl assented to them immediately, but the king delayed from day to day, and finally rejected them altogether. Upon this, at last, the legate discontinued his exertions, waiting, like the rest, for the issue of events: for what avails it to swim against the stream? and, as some one observes, “To seek odium only by one’s labours is the height of madness.”
BOOK III.
I now attempt to give a clue to the mazy labyrinth of events and transactions which occurred in England, during the year 1141,[563] lest posterity, through my neglect, should be unacquainted with them; as it is of service to know the volubility of fortune and the mutability of human estate, God only permitting or ordaining them. And, as the moderns greatly and deservedly blame our predecessors, for having left no memorial of themselves or their transactions since the days of Bede, I think I ought to be very favourably regarded by my readers, if they judge rightly, for determining to remove this reproach from our times.
[A.D. 1141.] SIEGE OF LINCOLN.