| c. 907 | Ælflæda, o. c. 959. | |
| * | * | * * * |
| 966 | S. Merwenna. | |
| c. 999 | Elwina. | |
| c. 1003 | Æthelflæda. | |
| c. 1016 | Wulfynn. | |
| c. 1025 | Ælfgyfu. | |
| * | * | * * * |
| c. 1130 | Hadewis. | |
| c. 1150 | Matilda, o. 1155. | |
| 1155 | Mary, married 1161, o. 1182. | |
| c. 1171 | Juliana, o. 1199. [5] | |
| 1199 | Matilda Walrane. | |
| 1219 | Matilda (Paria), o. 1230. | |
| 1230 | Matilda de Barbfle, o. 1237. | |
| 1237 | Isabella de Nevill. | |
| 1238 | Cecilia. | |
| 1247 | Constancia. | |
| 1261 | Amicia de Sulhere. | |
| 1268 | Alicia Walerand, o. 1298. | |
| 1298 | Philippa de Stokes. | |
| 1307 | Clementia de Guildeford, o. 1314. | |
| 1314 | Alicia de Wyntereshulle, o. 1315. | |
| 1315 | Sybil Carbonel, o. 1333. | |
| 1333 | Ioane Jacke (or Icthe). | |
| 1349 | Iohanna Gervas (or Gerneys). | |
| 1352 | Isabella de Camoys. | |
| 1396 | Lucy Everard. | |
| 1405 | Felicia Aas. | |
| 1417 | Matilda Lovell. | |
| 1462 | Ioan Bryggys. | |
| 1472 | Elizabeth Broke, o. 1502. | |
| 1502 | Joyce Rowse, resigned 1515. | |
| 1515 | Ann Westbroke, o. 1523. | |
| 1523 | Elizabeth Ryprose, dispossessed 1539. |
About the majority of the abbesses little or nothing is known; some, indeed, were women of exemplary piety, others were remarkable for their administrative abilities, and did good work in their own way; but of many all that can be said is that
In due time, one by one,
Some with lives that came to nothing, some with deeds as well undone,
Death stepped tacitly and took them where they never see the sun. [6]
In this chapter will be narrated any incidents connected with the lives of the abbesses and the nuns over whom they ruled that seem to the writer likely to be of interest to the general reader. It is noteworthy that the story of the nunnery is, for the most part, pre-eminently credible; with a few exceptions we hear nothing about visions or miracles; here and there we have touches of romance, which show that the life of discipline within “narrowing nunnery walls” is not always able to quell human passion, especially when pressure had been brought to bear by friends and relations upon women scarcely more than children, to induce them to take the veil. And as time went on grave scandals arose, which even the energetic action of reforming bishops was not altogether successful in stopping, so that although the greed of Henry VIII and his courtiers was, no doubt, the prime factor leading to the suppression of the religious houses, yet the unholy lives of the inmates gave them some valid reasons, or at rate excuses, for their action in closing nunneries and monasteries.
A story is told of King Eadgar which, indirectly, has some bearing on the Abbey of Romsey. About the year 960 he heard of the surpassing beauty of one Ælfthryth, [7] daughter of Ordgar of Devon, and possibly never having heard of the mischief that befell Arthur when he sent Launcelot to ask at her father’s hands his fair daughter Guinevere, or to Mark when he sent Tristram on a similar errand to Iseault’s father, he sent his trusted and hitherto trustworthy friend Æthelwold to Ordgar. But Æthelwold as soon as he saw Ælfthryth fell hopelessly in love with her, and so hid the king’s message, and wooed and won the fair damsel for himself; and on his return told the king that the accounts of her beauty were altogether false, that she was vulgar and commonplace. So the king, believing his friend, turned his thoughts to other ladies; but before long some rumours of the way in which he had been deceived came to the king’s ear, and he, dissembling his purpose and not telling him of what he had heard, simply told Æthelwold that on a certain day he intended to visit the lady himself. Æthelwold, in alarm, hurried to his wife and begged her to conceal her beauty and clothe herself in unbecoming attire, so that she might not win the king’s admiration; but she did just the reverse, and enhanced her natural beauty by donning handsome raiment and jewellery. Her plan succeeded, the king fell in love with her and, according to one account, slew Æthelwold with his own hand while they were hunting, and when no man was by; or, according to another version, he sent him to hold a dangerous command in the north and slew him by the sword of the Northumbrians. It is, however, doubtful if Eadgar compassed his death at all, but two years after it he married his widow, whose beauty was her chief recommendation, for though it has nothing to do with Romsey, it may be mentioned in passing that it was she by whose order Eadgar’s eldest son by his first wife, Eadward the Martyr, was murdered at Corfegate, where the well-known castle afterwards rose and where its ruins remain until this day. Now Æthelwold had previously had to wife one Brichgyfu, a kins-woman of Eadgar, and had had by her many sons and daughters, the last born of them was named Æthelflæd; according to other accounts, Æthelflæd was born after her father’s death, and therefore must have been Ælfthryth’s child. Be this as it may, she was in any case akin to the king or queen, and was by them entrusted to the care of St. Merwynn of Romsey. A true mother in God the abbess proved, and a dutiful and loving daughter was Æthelflæd. In due time she took the veil, and the sanctity of her life was shown in various ways, and was attested by miracles. She made no display of her austerities, pretended to eat and drink with the other nuns but hid the food in order to give it to the poor, and used to leave her dormitory at night, even in winter time, to plunge naked into one of the streams and there remain until she had chanted the Psalms of the day. Once in her younger days, when the abbess was cutting some switches from the river banks wherewith to chastise the girls under her charge, the stone walls of the nunnery became clear as transparent glass to the eyes of Æthelflæd, and she saw what the abbess was doing, and when she came in she besought her with many tears not to beat her or her companions. The abbess, much astonished, asked her how she knew that she was going to beat them; to which Æthelflæd replied that she had seen her cutting the switches, and that they were even now hidden under her cloak. Another miracle is recorded which, for the saint’s reputation, one would hope was a pure invention of the chronicler, since if it were true it might lay her open to the charge of performing an easy trick with phosphorus in order to gain credit for miraculous power. It is said that one night when it was her turn to read the lesson the lamp which she held in her hand went out, but that her fingers became luminous and shed sufficient light upon the book to enable her to read the lesson to the end. Other miracles are related of her, and though she was not elected abbess on the death of St. Merwynn she obtained that honour three years afterwards on the death of Abbess Ælwynn.
The next sainted woman who calls for mention is Christine, daughter of Eadmund Ironside, and sister of Eadgar the Ætheling, and of St. Margaret, Queen of Scotland, who became a nun at Romsey, and is supposed by some to have been Abbess, though this is very doubtful. The Scotch king Malcolm Canmore and Margaret his queen, sent their two daughters Eadgyth and Mary to be educated by their aunt Christine. Aunt Christine acted on the principle of the proverb, “Spare the rod, spoil the child,” and Eadgyth spoke in after days of the whippings she had received because she refused to wear a nun’s veil. Professor Freeman tells us how on one occasion the Red King came to Romsey to woo Eadgyth, for it must be remembered that she was now the eldest female representative of the old Wessex kings, and a marriage with her would do much to weld together Normans and English. But, although he was admitted to the nunnery, Christine persuaded Eadgyth to put on a nun’s garb as a disguise—she was at the time about twelve years old—and told her to go into the choir; to allow time for the change of raiment she invited the king to come and see the flowers in the cloister garden. As he went thither, he caught sight of Eadgyth in her veil, and imagined that he was too late, for even he, bad as he was, would not care to press his suit, especially as it was prompted by policy, not by love, and a marriage with a nun would be counted illegal and so would fail to have the result he desired.
This took place in 1093. Later in the same year it is said that another king, her father Malcolm of Scotland, came to see her and was vexed to see her wearing a veil and tore it from her head, saying he did not wish her to be a nun but a wife.
Another suitor in due course came to woo her, a more eligible one than Rufus, namely his brother Henry I. In this case the union was dictated not only by policy but by love. But there were certain difficulties. There was no doubt that Eadgyth had worn a veil, but whether simply as a disguise or a professed nun was open to argument; so a solemn assembly was called by Anselm to hear evidence on the subject. The decision it came to was that she was not a nun, and, to use Mr. Freeman’s words, Anselm “gave her his blessing and she went forth as we may say Lady-Elect of the English.”
On her marriage she laid aside her English name Eadgyth, and assumed that of Matilda or Maud. Robert of Gloucester calls her “Molde the gode quene.” And Peter de Langtoft says of her
Malde hight that mayden, many of her spak,
Fair scho was, thei saiden, and gode withouten lak.
* * * * * *
Henry wedded dame Molde, that king was and sire,
Saynt Anselme men tolde corouned him and hire.
The corounyng of Henry and of Malde that may,
At London was solemply on St. Martyn’s day.