 CHAPTER 6 LIFE ON A MANNER During the greater part of the Middle Ages, most of the land was held by feudal tenure, that is, on condition of service. Everybody needed service of some sort. A king might own vast areas of land, but unless the nobles would fight for him, he could not keep it from his enemies. The nobles might hold wide estates, but they were worthless unless men could be found to cultivate them. As for the common people, their first and foremost need was protection. So it was that the feudal system grew up. The king would agree to grant land to a noble, provided the noble would become his vassal. To do this, the noble was obliged to go to the king's court and kneel before him. The king then held the clasped hands of the noble in his own, and asked, Do you wish to become my man? The noble replied, I do. The king then kissed him in token of confidence and acceptance, and the noble took a solemn oath on the gospels or relics of the saints, to be faithful. This ceremony was called doing homage. It bound the king to aid and protect the noble, and not to interfere with his control of the land in his hands. It bound the noble to be faithful to the king, and to fight for him when fighting was necessary, and to provide at his own expense a fixed number of followers. For the king to demand money, and for the noble to pay, it would have seemed to both of them somewhat humiliating. But to follow his king in battle and to be loyal to him was quite in accordance with the taste and training of the noble. Even in later times, as the demand for a military force increased, the king did not venture to suggest paying wages to knights to fight for him. Instead of that, money-fiefs were invented. That is, a fixed sum was paid to vassals yearly on condition of their performing military service. This was exactly the same as hiring soldiers, but calling the arrangement of thief, the name given to a grant of land, saved the pride of the knights, and gave the king his soldiers. The military service required of a vassal was generally limited to 40 days in a year. If more was needed, the king must pay all expenses. If the military service was to be rendered in a foreign country, the noble was free to come home at the end of 40 days. He must also help the king by his advice, and must submit in any lawsuit of his own to the decision of the king and his fellow vassals, and he must provide entertainment for the king when on a journey. On three occasions, he was expected to assist the king with money, but this was never called payment or rent for land. It was always spoken of as aid. These occasions were, one, when the king's eldest son was made a knight, two, when the king's eldest daughter was married, three, when the king had been taken prisoner by some foreign power and it was necessary to ransom him. In theory, the king had a right to take back the grant of land, but unless a vassal was unfaithful, it was seldom to his advantage to do so. If one vassal was wronged by another, he might appeal to their king, but it was in most cases a long way to the royal court. It was dangerous to leave one's castle exposed to an enemy, and it was more simple and direct for the two nobles to fight it out. If a vassal died, it was generally for the gain of both parties that his eldest son should take the father's place as vassal. The lord imposed a tax, however, called Harriet, usually on the best beast of the dead man. The son, too, was required to pay a tax or relief on taking possession of the land in his father's stead. The accepted belief was that every thief should supply to the king the service of a man. If the vassal's son was a child at his father's death, the king brought him up, but to make good the loss of a fighting man, he kept the income of the thief until the boy was old enough to perform a knight's service. If the vassal left only a widow or a daughter, she must pay a fine to the king if she did not wish to marry. If she was willing to marry, the king had the right to select her husband. This was to prevent her from choosing a man who might perhaps be an enemy to the king. This was the feudal system, or rather it was the beginning of it. It is quite probable that in many countries at some time in their history, land has been held by this method. Of course, it was not decided upon and the land divided in a moment in any country, but the custom grew up gradually. The system was in reality a perfect network of lords and vassals, for not only were the nobles vassals of the king, but they themselves had vassals, and those vassals had others who paid homage to them. Indeed, a man might do homage to a number of men for separate pieces of land. In that case, however, he owed military duty to but one of them. And this was known as his Lige Lord. The vassal was not looked upon as in any degree inferior to the Lord. A king might rule one country, and yet pay homage to the ruler of another for his fief in that land. When William the Norman conquered England, he took possession of the country much as if it had been his own big farm. He allowed those who yielded to him to retain their land on payment of large fees. The rest of it he divided among his followers as fiefs. But William was Duke of Normandy, and therefore he himself paid homage to the French king for his Norman land. This descended from one English ruler to another. But when John came to the throne, the French king Philip II declared that he was a disobedient and unfaithful vassal, and took it away by capturing the Chateau Gaillard and his other strongholds. There were several ways in which smaller amounts of land came into the hands of the nobles. The church held large areas, but the clergy were forbidden to wield the sword. Therefore, parts of their holdings were sometimes let to knights on condition of their providing the required number of soldiers. Again, this was a time of fighting and bloodshed, of danger and violence, and many a man who owned a bit of freehold could not protect it. In that case, he would often commend himself to some powerful man. That is, he would promise to be faithful to him and be his loyal vassal. He now had a strong arm to defend him, and he was sure of food and clothes. The result of all of this was that by the 13th century it might almost be said, no land without a lord. But manors were of small value unless they were cultivated. In these days, if a man owns a large farm, he hires laborers to work on it. But in the Middle Ages, the cultivation of the land was managed in quite a different fashion. Nothing has been said as yet of the common folk, the many thousand people who were neither clergy nor nobles. They were the ones who did the work of the manors. They were of various ranks. A few were slaves and were looked upon as having no more rights than a horse or a cow. Above these were the villains. They could not be sold like slaves, but if a manor passed from one lord to another, they went with it. Each villain held a definite amount of land and was required to pay for its use partly in money or in produce and partly in labor. The villains were divided into several classes, each having some special rights or some exemption from undesirable duties, which was of great value to them. Above these were the free tenants. They paid for the use of their land, sometimes in service and sometimes entirely in money. The buildings on a manor were the manor house in which either the lord or his agent lived, the tiny cottages of the tenants, a church, a windmill, and the various barns and other outbuildings needed. The manor house stood a little apart from the others. It was usually of stone, but its character depended in great degree upon the location. In England, for instance, the important houses near the Scottish border were built strong enough to serve as forts, and indeed most of the larger houses in the more level parts of the country were surrounded by moats and had various means of defence. In the simpler houses there was a hall and adjoining it a kitchen. On the other side of the hall and up a flight of stairs was the solar. This was the bedroom and parlor of the lord and his wife. The rest of the household and their guests slept in the hall or in the stables or in any other place where there would be a roof, even one thatched with reeds from the pond. As time passed houses were built with more rooms and often enough to enclose a courtyard on three sides, while the fourth was shed in by a wall. Around the whole structure was a moat with a drawbridge. The windows were small. There were turrets and other places from which arrows might be shot in safety. In short these manor houses were in many respects almost as well fortified as real castles. The cottages were ranged along the one street of the manor. Miserable little one room sheds of clay, the roofs thatched with straw stubble and having neither windows nor chimneys. The land of the manor was cultivated in three large fields. Usually one produced wheat or barley and one oats, while the third lay fallow. The second year the field that had laid fallow was planted and another field had a time of rest. This was an extravagant manner of farming for one third of the land was always idle, but men had not fully learned how to enrich the soil, and therefore they were forced to allow it to rest. Each tenant had a larger or smaller share in these fields, but the land was divided in a peculiar fashion. It was marked off into long narrow strips, generally about 40 rods long and four rods wide, separated from one another by strips of unplowed turf called bulks. The holdings of the different tenants were scattered over the manor, and much time must have been wasted in going from one to another. A man who held 30 acres or a verget might have to care for land in 30 or more different places. Even the land which the Lord of the manor reserved for himself was scattered in the same way. The use of clover and the grasses which can be cultivated in dry places and stored away for winter was not known, and therefore the meadowland of the manor was of great value. There was always a common pasture in which sheep and cattle might range, and there was woodland wherein the tenants' pigs might find food for themselves. The tenants were obliged to grind their grain in the Lord's mill, bake their bread in his oven, press their grapes in his wine press, and of course pay a good price for the privileges. They must pay for letting their pigs run in the forest, for cutting wood, and often for catching fish, and for the use of their Lord's weights and measures. They paid him a share of what they raised, and they paid one-tenth of their income to the church besides fees at every birth, baptism, marriage, and death. Even what was left of their produce they were forbidden to sell until the produce of their Lord's land had been sold. This land, or the da men, they were obliged to cultivate, each villain doing an amount of work in proportion to the area which he held. The lists of the men and the work required of each were called extents. An extent usually stated first the size of the manor and how it was divided, how many acres of arable land, pasture, meadow, and woodland it contained, and how often the manor court was accustomed to meet. Then came the list of tenants, what rent they paid, and what work was required of them. On one of the English manors, for instance, there were seven free tenants. One of them was the son of a knight. He held eighteen acres, and paid for his land thirty six pence a year. Apparently these free tenants were not obliged to do any work on the da men. Some of the villain tenants, however, had to do so many kinds of work it is a wonder how they knew when it was finished. One poor man had to work for his land three days a week for eleven months of the year, save for a week at Christmas, Easter, and Witsentide, and find his own food. He must weed, help plow, and mow, carry in hay, reap, and haul grain. It was carefully stated just when the Lord would provide food for him, and how much, and what kind. When this man and the other villains were mowing, they were allowed three bushels of wheat, one ram worth eighteen pence, one jar of butter, and one cheese next to the best from the dairy of the Lord, and salt and oatmeal for their porridge, and all the morning milk. They also had several definite perquisites while doing this work. For instance, at the close of each day every man might have as much green grass as he could carry on the point of his scythe, and when the hay was in he might have a cartful. At harvest time each worker might have three handfuls for every load of grain that he brought in. Besides the weekly work during the greater part of the year there were also boon works in time of plowing, planting, and harvest. For these the tenant must leave his own land, often when it needed him most, and give his time to that of his Lord. In short, more than one half of the time of the average villain had to be given to the Lord of the Manor. Just how some of these dues were paid is a little confusing. One tenant, for instance, was bound to pay the Lord every Christmas one hen and a half, the hen being the price of one and one half pence. Several women held land on the same terms as the men. The extents also stated the value of the rents, the hens given to the Lord, the use of the mill, the right to fish, and all the service performed by the tenants, and it told where the pillory and ducking stool stood. In this case there was more than one reason to avoid these instruments of punishment for they were placed next to the Lord's pigsty. Legal questions often arose on a manor. Land was transferred from one person to another, fines were to be imposed, crimes were to be punished, and to decide these matters a court was held regularly. This was convenient for the tenants, but it can hardly have been invariably just, for the Lord or his agent was the judge, and he generally had a personal interest in the cases. Moreover, the various fines and fees went straight into his own purse, and that must have made it a temptation to inflict us heavy ones as would be born. In theory there could be an appeal to the King, but the King was usually a long way off. Travel was not safe, and in any case the word of a villain would count little when opposed to the word of a noble. A manor did not run itself, it had three chief officials besides its Lord. First there was the Reeve. He was one of the tenants, and his business was to carry on the cultivation of the Lord's land. Then there was the Bailiff, who took charge of the whole manor, saw that the work was done and the produce sold. But a noble often held a number of manors, and so a steward was also required, who went from one manor to another to examine the accounts of each, hold court, and take general charge of the estates. So it was that the Reeve watched the tenants, the Bailiff watched the Reeve, the steward watched the Bailiff, and finally an accountant, sometimes a relative of the Lord, watched the steward, and collected the money from the different manors. Over them all was the Lord himself. He and his family and servants went from one manor to another, partly to use up what they could have produced on the spot, and partly it is whispered, because so little attention was paid to cleanliness that it was the part of comfort as well as wisdom to allow a house to sweeten after it had been occupied for some weeks. A manor required far less from the outside world than any village or city in these days. Food, with the exception of salt and the delicacies brought for use of the Lord, grew on the land. Hemp and wool were raised, spun into yarn, woven and made into clothes on the spot. Sandals could be made by anyone, and rough shoes could be put together by the shoemaker of the manor. There was also a carpenter who could easily put up the waddled huts of the tenants. If anything more elaborate was to be undertaken, like the building of a church, builders were sent for from away. The blacksmith mended the tools and farming implements and often made them. Clumsy, inconvenient things they were, the sides were short and straight and the sickles small and heavy. The great wooden plows were so big and cumbersome that even with eight oxen to pull them they cut into the ground only a little way, and a second plowing was usually necessary. Enriching the land and draining the soil were rarely practiced during the early part of the Middle Ages. Crops at best were small, often not more than one third of what the same amount of land would produce today. Frequently they failed almost all together because so little was known of agriculture, and even when there was a year of plenty it was hardly safe to sell the surplus for it might all be needed during the following year. The tenant had a hard life, but he was sure of as much protection as his lord could give, of a place to stay in, and of an opportunity to raise something to eat. He had no freedom, but in the times when freedom means danger, one does not grieve so sorely over the loss of liberty. William Langland, who wrote Pierce Plowman, tells how constantly the women worked. They must spin and card and comb wool, he says, trying to earn enough to pay the rent and the cost of milk and meal to feed their little ones. They must mend and wash and reel and peel rushes, so that it is a sad story to read the sufferings of the women who live in cottages. But as the years passed the times changed, and with all the watching it seldom brought in as much income as it might. Certainly not so much as the lord's desired, for many luxuries were now imported. People were interested in building, and they had developed a taste for living comfortably. These changes had been caused in great degree by the crusades or military expeditions to rescue the holy land from the Saracens. But whatever was the cause, the nobles wanted money. The villains, on the other hand, wanted to get rid of forced labor. Buying a release from disagreeable duties was quite in fashion. Even nobles often bought themselves free from entertaining the king. In many cases the peasants were permitted to buy a release from the services that they especially disliked. In some instances, where the lord was in pressing need of money, he insisted upon a tenant's buying his freedom. If a lord had a good supply of workmen, a tenant was sometimes allowed to leave the manor on condition of paying a tax. The church was the friend of the tenant. It taught that to free a serf was a deed pleasing to god, and if the son of the poorest serf showed intellectual ability and aptitude for the priesthood, it demanded his release. It is thought that William Langland was a villain and became free on entering the church. A tenant could sometimes escape to the city and find friends who would conceal him, and in England there was a law that if a man could succeed in remaining hidden for a year and a day, he was forever free. Many of these runaways knew some trade by which they could support themselves. There were tanners, carpenters, sadlers, shoemakers, blacksmiths, and tailors among them. Early in the 14th century the weaving of fine woolens was introduced to England, and at this trade especially a man could earn a good support. Little by little then the villains were discovering that the lords needed them quite as much as they needed the lords. If a lord did not treat his labourers well, he would be likely to lose some of them. As time passed more and more of the tenants paid rent instead of giving service, and the lords could not always get as much service as they needed. More and more men became free to go from one manor to another as hired labourers. Villainage would probably have slowly disappeared in any case, but in the 14th century the system received two great shocks. One was the fact that when England fought France at the Battle of Crecy, the day was won for the English, not by knights in steel armour, but by yeoman with their bows and arrows. The other was the terrible Black Death, a pestilence which swept over Europe. It is thought to have destroyed nearly one-third as many people as there are in the United States. Then the lords or their heirs were in difficulties. They had received a Harriet on the death of a villain and the usual relief from his heir, but so many had died that few manors had men enough left to do the necessary work. The success at Crecy had shown the common folk that they were able to protect themselves, and now that labourers were few they began to see that they were an important part of the population. In England occurred an uprising known as the peasants' revolts. The chief demand of these peasants was to be free from villainage, and although the revolters were severely punished, villainage rapidly disappeared. France too had learned a lesson from her defeats at Crecy and elsewhere, for she found that her knights in all their armour could not protect their country. People began to question if knights can not even guard their own land, what is the use of knighthood? And both knighthood and the manor system gradually disappeared, but although the system has vanished it still influences the law, for instance the belief of the Middle Ages was that the land of a country belonged to the king, and was granted by him to the vassals for life, and today if a man in England dies into a state and without heirs his land goes to the king. In America it goes to the state, so it is that people of the 20th century are affected by the beliefs and customs of the people who lived on manners many hundreds of years ago. CHAPTER VI life in the Middle Ages was not all made up of tournaments and battles and sieges of castles. People thought a good deal of how to escape being punished for their sins and how to make sure of going to heaven when they died. The way that seemed to them most certain to accomplish these objects was to make pilgrimages or visits to holy places. The pilgrimage that was looked upon as most profitable was that to the holy land, but this was a long difficult journey and quite beyond the reach of the masses of people. Fortunately for them almost every cathedral was believed to be favored by some saint and there were few persons who could not at some time in their lives make a visit to at least one of these fortunate shrines. When people were ill or were in danger they often vowed to make a pilgrimage if they were healed of their illness or were rescued from their peril. Many went in the hope that by praying before a certain shrine they would be cured of some disease for which the doctors had not been able to find a remedy. Some were sent by their confessors as penitents for their sins and in such cases it was believed to be praiseworthy to make the journey as uncomfortable as possible. Sometimes a penitent was ordered to go barefoot or wear an iron ring on his arm or even to carry a heavy iron chain. There is an old story that two men were once commanded by their confessor to walk with peas in their shoes. One of them hobbled along the way in great discomfort but the others strode along easily for he had been thoughtful enough to boil the peas before starting. The ideal pilgrim was supposed to wear a rough gray cloak and a round felt hat to sling a script or bag for bread over his shoulder to carry a long staff with a water bottle hanging from it and to set out on foot begging his bread by the way. But there were as many kinds of pilgrims as a folk and as time passed fewer and fewer of them troubled themselves to wear the gray cloak or even to beg their bread if they could afford to buy it. In Chaucer's Canterbury Tales the author describes a large company of pilgrims but not one of them carried even script or staff. A knight who was one of their number had just returned from a voyage and he started just as he was in a fushion jippin stained by his coat of mail. His son, a merry young squire, wore a sort of short gown with long wide sleeves. A doctor was gorgeous in a robe of bright blue and red lined with silk. A woman from the town of Bath wore a sort of writing mantle fastened about her waist and a hat as broad as is a buckler or a shield. Good folk who were entirely sincere in wishing to make a pilgrimage in order to beg the aid of some kindly saint saw no harm in making their journey agreeable. A company of pilgrims often hired a few singers and bagpipe players to go with them and enliven the way. In the Canterbury Tales the worthy landlord says there is neither comfort nor pleasure in riding along as silent as a stone. And he suggests that each one of the travelers shall tell two stories going to Canterbury and to returning. Then when they have come back to the inn he who has told the best tell shall have a supper at the expense of the others. These people had no peas in their shoes or if they had they did not mind for they ambled along comfortably on horseback. And when night had come they drew rain at the tabard inn where they were to be sure of good wine and the best of food. When pilgrims had come to their journey's end some went straight to their prayers others wondered about the church curiously. At Canterbury there was much to see among other treasures there was the point of the sword that had been thrust into the brain of the martyr Thomas a Becket and there was his very skull all covered with silver saved the forehead. The devout kissed the sacred rust of the sword and pressed their lips reverently to the skull. They gazed upon the hair shirt which the arch bishop had worn and the scourge with which he had so often beaten himself for his sins. There were bones of lesser saints there were silk investments stiff with elaborate embroidery and there were superb jewels and gold and silver ornaments for the shrine that had been presented by earnest worshipers. It is said that at the principal altar in the Canterbury Cathedral only a few pints were left in the course of a whole year. But that at the shrine of Thomas a Becket gifts were made in the same time amounting to nearly one thousand pounds a sum that would buy much more then than it will today. One of the greatest treasures of the Cathedral at Canterbury was a flask of blood said to be that of a Becket. It was believed that if a sick person was permitted to taste a cup of water with which a drop of this blood had been mixed he would be cured of whatever disease he might have. It is no wonder that thousands flock to Canterbury. Sometimes one hundred thousand were in the place at the same time. An enterprising young man set to work to make ampuli or tiny flasks of lead and pewter in which pilgrims might carry home a few drops of the wonder-working water to heal any of their friends who were suffering. These ampuli had little ears pierced with holes for cords. They were sometimes hung about the neck and sometimes sewn on the cap or cloak or on the tunic over the heart. Other souvenirs could be purchased. One was a silver or pewter head of St. Thomas. Little bells were also for sale called Canterbury bells, a name that has been given to a blue bellflower of Canterbury which grows commonly in our gardens. Every shrine had its special token. Pilgrims who had been to Rome might wear badges representing two keys crossed or a Veronica, that is a representation of the face of Christ on a handkerchief. Those who had visited Santiago de Compostela in Spain or scallop shells in honor of a miracle said to have been wrought on the seashore by the body of St. James. Sir Walter Raleigh wrote, Give me my scallop shell of quiet, my staff of faith to walk upon, my script of joy, immortal diet, my bottle of salvation, my gown of glory, hope's true gauge, and thus I'll take my pilgrimage. The scallop shells and other badges were highly valued by their owners as proofs that they had really made the various pilgrimages. Of course a large amount of money was gained by their sell and the right to manufacture them was very valuable. This privilege was given to certain families or to a bishop or to some convent. The people who went on pilgrimage were as unlike as people left today and while many went with most honest devotion and often with loss and trouble to themselves, others went because they enjoyed new scenes and the adventures of the way. Chaucer laughed slyly at these last and says that when April has come, when the gentle breezes blow, when twigs are green and little birds sing through the night, then it is that folk long to go on pilgrimage. They could hardly be blamed for such a pilgrimage as that to Canterbury was certainly a pleasant little excursion. The road from London was known as the Pilgrims Road. At Walsingham there was a monastery whose chapel contained a famous statue of the Virgin Mary and the road thither was called the Palmer's Way and the Walsingham Greenway. A common name in England for the Milky Way was the Walsingham Way. On the continent there was a shrine in almost every province. The favorite one in France was on the wild jagged rock of Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy. This was sacred to the Archangel Michael. At Kiev in Russia rested the bones of many martyrs and every year thousands came to gaze reverently upon them and offer up fervent prayers. Trev in Prussia rejoiced in the possession of a garment said to be the seamless coat worn by the Saviour. Thongs of people made long journeys to visit these places and it was a common saying that the city which contained a valuable relic consisted mainly of churches and dens. There were sham pilgrims as well as real ones. It was regarded as a worthy act to aid a pilgrim by giving him food and lodging and some of the guilds or associations of tradesmen maintained lodging houses on purpose for poor pilgrims. This was an accommodation but not entirely a charity. For the tradesmen expected to be well paid in the benefit that they would receive from the prayers of their guests. People of a wandering turn of mind or those who were too lazy to work for their bread found the liberality shown to pilgrims of vast convenience. They had only to choose a way leading to some popular shrine and then they could roam on comfortably certain of bed and board without money or labor. It was easy for one who was weary of his work or his home village to become a sort of perpetual pilgrim. That is, it was easy until so many had learned the trick that laws were made against this vagrancy and unless a person could prove that he was a real pilgrim he was in danger of being shut up in prison as a real vagabond. Of course the most advantageous pilgrimage of all was that to the Holy Land. This was counted so meritorious a deed that he who aided anyone in accomplishing it was looked upon as especially sure of a blessing while he who hindered such a pilgrim might expect neither happiness nor prosperity. Many of the guilds had the law that when one of its members was setting out on a pilgrimage the others both men and women must go a little way with him and in saying goodbye each must present him with a piece of money. He paid no dues to the guild while he was away for the members were supposed to share in the merits of his journey. On all the principal roads leading to holy places there were rest stations sometimes built and supported by free will offerings and sometimes by regular taxes. Here the pilgrim was always entitled to a night's shelter. Convents were frequent and at any one of them he was welcomed to fire water and lodging and even food if this was needed. In many places he had no tolls to pay and whoever did him an injury was excommunicated or forbidden the benefits of the church. Before a person started on a long pilgrimage he confessed his sins and went to a special service. Psalms were sung and prayers were offered that he might return in safety. Then just as the sort of the young knight was blessed so the priest now pronounced the blessing of the church upon the pilgrim's staff and script. Mass was said a cross of cloth was sewn on his shoulder and he started on a journey that would separate him from his friends for months and perhaps years. It might be that he had no idea of returning for he who spent his last years in Jerusalem and there met his death was regarded as being the most blessed of mankind. The common route from England to Palestine lay through France to Lombardi and Venice thence to Cyprus Jaffa and Jerusalem. Sometimes it led to Egypt. So many thousand pilgrims were constantly traversing these roads that a person who started alone soon found companionship and the safety that a large company would afford. Prominent men usually carried letters from their king declaring that they were pilgrims and commending them to the protection of the rulers through whose lands they would pass. Sometimes a band of pilgrims was almost large enough for an army. In the 11th century a great company 7,000 strong set out from Germany and Normandy for the Holy Land. Many of them were priests or bishops but their holy orders did not save them. For Arab robbers came down upon them and carried away a large amount of their money and forced them to fight for their lives. When those who escaped reached Jerusalem the patriarch or head of the church in that city came out with the Christians of the place to bid them welcome. They were escorted with clanging of symbols and flashing of lights to the Holy Sepulchre in which Jesus was said to have lain. These dwellers in Jerusalem pointed out the various places of interest and were as definite in their information as if they had known anything about the matter. The pilgrims were eager to bathe in the river Jordan and indeed to go wherever the feet of the Lord had trodden. But the Arabs were all about Jerusalem and he who wandered far from the city was in danger of losing his money and perhaps his life. After going about as much as they dared they set out for their homes stopping at Rome on their way. Many pilgrims preserved with the utmost care the shirts which they wore at their entrance into Jerusalem to be used as their shrouds. For thus they would make sure of an easy entrance into heaven. They did not forget to carry home some of the dust of the sacred country for it was believed that whoever possessed a grain of it could never be harmed by fiends or demons. It was the custom for every pilgrim to bring back also a palm. And when he had come to his own village this was put up over the altar of his church to show that he had made the great pilgrimage. It was from this custom that pilgrims to Jerusalem were called palmers. But as time passed the name was often given to any pilgrim even though he was making only a few days journey to some shrine near his home. Pilgrims sometimes came back with heavier purses than they had carried with them. For some of them were also merchants and the productions of Asia were brought by caravans to the eastern shores of the Mediterranean Sea. There these merchants would buy them and on their home or journey they would dispose of them at a most excellent profit. Another advantage of pilgrimage was that the returning traveler had enough stories of strange sights and adventures to last him all the rest of his life. In those days when neither magazines, novels, nor daily papers had ever been dreamed of even the prosiest of these storytellers must have been a welcome guest at any castle on his way. The pilgrim often had however many stories of cruelty and persecution to narrate. In the seventh century the followers of Muhammad who captured Jerusalem had agreed that Christians might be permitted to live in the city provided they paid attacks of two gold pieces every year were addressed different from that of the Muhammadans and did not put the cross on the outside of their buildings. Moreover they must always rise if a Muhammadan appeared among them. During the following four hundred years there were no great changes in the laws but there were great differences in the characters of the Muhammadan rulers. Some were cruel while others were kind and the condition of the Christians in Jerusalem was as uncertain as April weather said one of the old writers. The best of these rulers was the famous Haroon al-Rashid the Caliph of the Arabian Nights. At length however the holy city fell into the hands of the barbarous Seljuki in Turks. They too were Muhammadans and they hated the Christians. And now when pilgrims returned to France and Germany and England they had terrible tales to tell of how the Christians were treated. The Christian churches were profaned they said and the priests are thrown into wretched dungeons. If a pilgrim shows any signs of having money he is seized and robbed. If he is apparently a poor man he fares even worse for the Turks declare that no one would set out on such a journey without money and they either kill him outright or torture him to make him give it up. Among the pilgrims was a monk called Peter the Hermit. He grew more and more indignant as he thought of the sufferings of the Christians and of the insults offered by the Turks to the holy places. He prayed and fasted and finally became convinced that God had given to him the special work of recovering the Holy Land for the Christians. He told what he had seen to the Pope urban the second. The Pope wept in sympathy and declared that the time had come for all Christians to unite and drive the Turks from Europe. Peter set out to arouse the people of France. He wore a coarse woolen shirt and a gray mantle. He was bareheaded and barefooted. He rode upon a mule and bore a huge cross in his arms. He was so earnest and eloquent that no one could hear him without being moved. People treasured up the very hairs of his mule as precious legacies for their children. They loaded him down with gifts but he divided these among the poor. He seemed to have no thought for himself but only for the freedom of the Holy City. Repent. Repent. He cried. Remember that however wicked you may have been you have now the chance to win pardon for all your sins. He who strikes a blow to rescue the Holy Sepulchre from the pollution of the unbelievers has thrown open the door of heaven for himself. Into the midst of these people already aroused to a high pitch of excitement and enthusiasm came Pope Urban. He called a great council to meet at Clermont in France. No church was large enough to hold the thousands that came together and they all went out upon a widespreading plain. A high scaffold was built and from this the Pope addressed them. He bade them cease making war with one another and devote all their power to striving against the Mohammedans. You are sure a victory he said for the Turks are cowards while you are valiant and strong. If you are slain you will indeed have lost your bodies but you will have saved your souls. Do not refuse for love of your families for you must love God more than these. Do not refuse for love of home for all the world is the Christian's country. Do not refuse because of your wealth for much richer treasures await you. Those who die will enter the mansions of heaven. Those who live will behold the sepulchre of our Lord. Fortunate indeed are they who may enter such a conflict and share the glorious rewards that are set before them. God wills it. God wills it. shouted the people. They wept. They smote their breasts in sorrows for their sins and on the instant many pressed forward to beg for the red cross that was to be the sign of their having entered upon the holy undertaking. The Latin word for cross is crux and therefore the expeditions to drive the Turks from the Holy Land were called the crusades. The Pope had forbidden any to go except strong men well able to fight and he had set August 15th, 1096 as the day of their departure. But the eager people could not think of waiting so long and four months before that date two bands set out for Palestine made up not only of strong men but of old and infirm men and even women and children. One band was led by a gentleman of Burgundy called Walter the Penelous. One by Peter himself. It is thought that there were several hundred thousand persons on the march. They had come from throughout Europe. If a servant declared that he wished to join the crusade no master dared to hold him back. God wills it said the debtor and his creditor did not attempt to prevent him from going or even to make him pay his debt. God wills it the criminal in prison cried and the doors of his dungeon were thrown open that he too might join the army. The Lord of the Manor did not venture to forbid even of the lane to put on the cross nor did the bishop venture to command a priest or monk to remain at home. Sometimes whole families set out together. Sometimes husbands left their wives or mothers their children to join in the wild rush to the land of the unbelievers. Vast numbers of these eager people went because they firmly believed they were following the will of God. But thieves went to gain chances to rob and steal and swarms of folk went because they were greedy for any kind of change and excitement. As for the nights their business was fighting and here was an opportunity to fight not for the prizes of the tournament but for heaven itself. This strange and unwieldy army made their way to the east and they succeeded in capturing Jerusalem. Someone must be chosen to rule the city and the crusaders favored the foremost of the leaders Godfrey of Bouillon Duke of Lorraine. It is said that some of them asked Godfrey servants what was their master's greatest thought. The answer was that he persisted in staying so long in church to learn the meaning of every image and picture that the dinner was often spoiled. In spite of his grievous imperfection he was chosen ruler of Jerusalem. He would not accept the title of king and wear a crown of gold in the very place where Jesus had worn a crown of thorns and therefore the title of Baron and Defender of the Holy Sepulcher was given to him. This was the first of the crusades. There were eight others for after about 100 years Jerusalem again fell into the hands of the Mohammedans. Then Europe was indeed aroused and three sovereigns Richard the Lion-hearted of England Philip II of France and Frederick Barbarossa of Germany led enormous armies toward the east. Frederick was drowned on the way but the others pushed on to Palestine. Battles were lost and battles were won. The kings quarreled and Philip and his soldiers went home. Richard had not many enough to capture Jerusalem and he too left the country though not until he had shown such skill and valor in warfare that even to this day his prowess is not forgotten in the east. People had felt so sure that the crusade of the three sovereigns would succeed that they hardly knew how to account for its failure. It must be that the crusaders had committed many sins of which they had not repented, thought some. And gradually the belief spread that only those who were free from sin and pure in heart could ever win the homeland of the Saviour. A French shepherd boy named Stephen went from place to place in France declaring that Jesus had commanded him to lead a company of children to the Holy Land to rescue the sepulcher of Jesus from unbelievers. Throughout France he sang Jesus, Lord, repair our loss, restore to us the holy cross. Thousands of children joined him. Rich and poor broke away from their homes and marched after him crying, God wills it, God wills it. No bolts, no bars, no fear of fathers or love of mothers could hold them back. And moreover, the fathers and mothers often hardly dared to hold them back lest in doing they should be opposing God. In Germany another boy preached named Nicholas, aroused the German children in the same way and they all set out for the Holy Land. Longfellow says of their departure from Cologne. From the gates that summer day clad in robes of hot and gray with the red cross on the breast azurite and golden-haired forth the young crusaders fared. While above the band devoted consecrated banners floated. Fluttered many a flag and streamer and the cross over all the rest. Singing lowly, meekly, slowly. Give us, give us back the holy sepulcher of the Redeemer. They had neither weapons nor any thought of using them. They expected the waters of the sea to divide that they might pass over dryshod. And they supposed that the walls of Jerusalem would fall at their coming and that the unbelievers would yield to them without striking a blow. But the plains were hot and the mountains were cold. Sometimes they could not get food. Longfellow says, Ah, what master hand shall paint how they journeyed on their way, how the days grew long and dreary, how their little feet grew weary, how their little hearts grew faint. Many were stolen and sold as slaves. Many were lost in that strange and bewildering journey. Thousands sickened and died. A very few, after long months of suffering, found their way back to their homes. There were in all nine crusades between the latter part of the eleventh century and that of the thirteenth. The bloodshed and suffering came to nothing so far as getting possession of the Holy Land was concerned. For at the end of the last expedition it was left in the hands of the Mohammedans, and there it has remained from that day to this. The crusades did not drive the unbelievers from Palestine, but they did make fast changes in Europe. In the first place an enormous amount of money was needed to pay expenses. If the Lord of a Manor wished to go on a crusade he would often allow some of his valains to pay dues in money instead of in work. And this tended to break up the manor system. A sovereign who needed money for a crusade was usually willing to grant to some of his cities many privileges of self-government. If they would pay him a good round sum for his freedom. Again, the most turbulent folk and the most eager fighters were sure to seize the opportunity to join these expeditions and thus make sure of plenty of fighting and excitement. And this left the homelands more quiet and peaceful. Another great gain was that these expeditions strengthened the Latin power in Constantinople and thus prevented the Mohammedans from sweeping over Central Europe. Moreover, the crusaders became accustomed to the use of many things from the east such as spices and silks which they had regarded as luxuries when at home or had perhaps seldom seen at all. Numbers of vessels were built to carry the thousands of men to Palestine and on the return voyage their holds were filled with these eastern productions. So it was that both shipbuilding and commerce were greatly increased. People learned not only to use new things but to think new thoughts. They learned of lands previously unknown to them of strange peoples and customs. They were eager listeners to stories of the crusades and soon these stories together with poems and histories were written in the languages of the different countries of Europe. All these new ideas were most interesting to the good folk of the time. But there was one in particular that was not only interesting but exceedingly surprising to them. The night was the ideal man of the age and Richard the Lionhearted was the ideal night. The Mohammedan was despised by everyone. But behold, it had been seen that Richard's Mohammedan enemy Saladin was as brave and fearless as courteous and generous as any hero of chivalry could ever be. The crusaders and those who listened to their stories did not become devoted admirers of their Mohammedan foes but many of them did begin to comprehend that even if a man was of different race different customs and different faith he was a man for all that and this was perhaps the greatest gain of all. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Of When Nights Were Bold This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org When Nights Were Bold by Eva March Tappan Chapter 8 Military Orders Monks and Monasteries Among those who wished most earnestly to make the way of the pilgrims a little easier were some merchants of a Malfi in Italy. A number of years before the first crusade they came together to discuss how they could be most helpful to the wayfarers. They concluded that those who were strong and well and rich were in no special need of their aid. It is the Sikh and the poor whom we will care for they declared and they decided to build a hospital in Jerusalem. The colour of Egypt gave them permission and they built two hospitals one for men and one for women. Here the Sikh were cared for and the poor were given shelter and food. When these grateful pilgrims left Jerusalem and returned to their homes they told people about the new hospitals. Those who were able sent gifts and this work of the merchants was plainly so sensible and helpful and undertaking that contributions from all parts of Europe especially from Italy were showered upon it and valuable gifts of land in different countries were made to it. Many pilgrims after reaching Jerusalem and seeing what good the hospitals were doing resolved to remain and help in the good work. Then came the first crusade. The hospitals cared for the wounded soldiers and some of the crusaders decided that they too would remain and care for pilgrims. It became necessary to have a regular organisation. This was formed and the name Hospitallers of the Order of Saint John was chosen. Whoever wished to join the Order must take the three vows that were required of monks and nuns poverty, chastity and obedience and must also promise to devote his life to the service of the poor and Sikh in Jerusalem. Then the patriarch of Jerusalem put upon him a plain black robe having a white cross on the left breast. So much money and land came into the hands of the Hospitallers that they founded one house after another not only in the Holy Land but scattered through the countries of Western Europe. There was also a chapter of the Order to which women might belong and large numbers joined it. Many of the members of the Order had made long and dangerous journeys they had fought in savage battles had commanded scores perhaps hundreds of followers and it must have seemed strange enough to them to have rules given them for every action and to be punished like little children if they were not obedient. In the English houses if two nights quarrelled the penalty was to eat dinner for seven days sitting on the ground. Two days of the seven they were given only bread and water. If one struck another he must do penance for 40 days usually by fasting. In 1118 a Superior was chosen who was deeply interested in military matters. He proposed that the Knights should not only care for those in need but should also take vows to fight whenever necessary in defensive religion. This was going back to their old occupation and the Hospitallers were delighted. They met the Turks in battle again and again and were indeed the fiercest defenders of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. When one of these nights went into warfare he wore armor of course and over it a red circle with a white cross on the breast and a red mantle with a white cross on the shoulder. After the Turks captured Jerusalem the Hospitallers established themselves on the island of Cyprus then on roads and there they put up some large handsome buildings. They cared for the sick they fought the Turks and they carried pilgrims from Cyprus to the Holy Land. The Turks sent out vessels to prevent this and there were some furious sea fights. Next the Hospitallers became military engineers for they got possession of the island of Malta and made it one of the strongest fortifications in the world. Twice the Turks tried their best to capture it but did not succeed. Later the Hospitallers patrolled the Mediterranean Sea with large war galleys trying to overcome the pirates of Northern Africa. The order is still in existence. It has been called the last relic of the crusades and of chivalry. The Hospitallers did their best to carry pilgrims safely to the coast of Palestine and to care for them after they were once in Jerusalem but there was a long and dangerous journey to be made from the coast to the Holy City. The Turks were always on the watch and when they caught sight of a company of pilgrims they swooped down upon them and either put them to death or dragged them away to a life of slavery. A band of nine valiant knights in Jerusalem were determined that this should no longer be endured and they took not only the usual three vows but also a fourth which bound them to protect pilgrims on this journey and to fight for the Holy Sepulchre. They built a house for themselves close to the Temple in Jerusalem and from this came their name of Templars or Knights of the Temple. Their numbers increased sons of the noblest and richest families in Europe begged to become members of the Order. Princely gifts of money and lands were lavished upon it. Branches were formed and houses many of them as well fortified as castles were built in the Holy Land and also in nearly all the countries of Europe. The dress of the Templars was a white surcoat with a red cross over the breast and a long white mantle with a red cross on the shoulder. 200 years passed and the Templars had become an entirely different association. In the early days of the Order they had lived upon charity and had chosen for their seal a representation of two knights riding upon one horse to indicate poverty but now they had become enormously wealthy. Their numbers had increased greatly because they admitted as partial members many persons who simply wished to make sure of protection. More than one king became jealous of their power and was exasperated because the Church forbade him to tax them. Stories were spread by their enemies that instead of fighting with the Turks they were ready to make any sort of treaty that would secure their own property in the Holy Land. At length Philip the Fair of France accused them falsely of heresy and immorality. Some of them were tortured until they admitted that the charges were true and in France 54 were burned at the stake. Other countries followed the example of France. Part of their property was given to the hospitalers but by far the larger part of it went to the rulers of the lands in which it was situated. The hospitalers and the Templars were the principal military orders of the Middle Ages but there were also many orders which were purely religious. Most of the convents already in existence followed the rule of Saint Benedict of Nursia who died in the 6th century. The monks who gathered around him were bitten to be so poor as not even to claim as their own the gowns that they wore to pray seven times daily and to chant the Psalms of David every week and also to labor with their hands. Laborare estorare was one of Saint Benedict's favorite motos. The monks were required to spend seven hours a day in manual labor and two hours in reading and study. While they ate they must listen to the reading of some religious book. They wore white cassocks and over them flowing gowns with hoods. The long gown would be in the way in working so when they made ready for work or for traveling they wore instead a short black tunic without sleeves. They were rarely permitted to speak. They fasted often and during Lent they ate nothing until after Vespers. They had to promise to bear reproof and even corporal punishment with the utmost meekness. These were some of the provisions of the rule of Saint Benedict but as one century after another passed the customs of both monks and nuns became far less strict. As an act of piety children were often led in by their parents or even taken in their cradles and laid upon the altar to grow up in the convent that they might become monks or nuns. These children were not always adapted to the monastic life and when they grew up they were not sorry to have the rules less severe. Then too the monasteries had become very rich. It is true that no individual monk or nun could hold property but the convent as a whole could hold an unlimited amount. Kings and nobles had made them large gifts. A Benedictine convent was no longer the home of a group of self-denying monks living in obscurity and poverty. It was the abode of a community so rich that it was a power in the country in which it was situated. The rule grew more and more lax. Abuser sometimes crept in and wrongdoing. Some earnest folk did not feel that this comfortable fashion of living was at all what life in a convent should be. They were eager to go back to the simple severe rule of Saint Benedict. That was why the convent of Clooney was founded. The Clooney ex did some manual work but spent most of their time in prayer and study. They taught and in their book rooms they made beautiful copies of the ancient manuscripts. They cared for the poor and they did everything they could to increase the power of the pope. The house at Clooney was only the beginning for soon it became too small for the earnest men who wished to join the community and one house after another was founded to make a place for them. Clooney however kept the control in its own hands. The other houses were governed by priors but the head of the house at Clooney was called an abbot. He often visited the other convents and examined them to make sure that they were carrying out the Clooney rules and were not introducing any new customs. These houses were known as the Congregation of Clooney. They increased so rapidly that in 200 years after the parent house was founded in 910 there were fully 2000 of them. They were scattered over many countries but no matter where they stood everyone was under the rule of the abbot of Clooney. In spite of the 2000 Clooney convents there were still many people who were not satisfied. They felt that even the rule of Clooney was not strict enough. Those who are in earnest in wishing to lead lives of devotion they said ought to be entirely free from all worldly matters and give themselves up wholly to poverty and self-denial. This belief was most strongly held in France and during the last quarter of the 11th century several other orders were founded to carry out the idea. The first of these was the Order of Graman which was founded by a French noble man named Stephen. He certainly practised self-denial for he lived upon nothing but bread and water. Others followed his teachings and in time the Order was formed. Its rule was far more severe than that of Clooney. Stephen took special pains to free his monks or good men as he preferred they should be called from the temptations of wealth for he decreed that no matter how rich their convent might become they should have nothing to do with the management of the property. This was all to be in the hands of some lay brethren. Unfortunately the lay brethren and the good men did not agree and at length the Order fell to pieces. The Carthusian Order was founded a few years after the Order of Graman by one Bruno, a Canon of Cologne. This was the most strict of all the orders. Bruno chose for his abode a wild tract of land in southeastern France. There he and six others built a chapel and a group of rude huts. These finally became the Grand Chartres. He and his six companions entered upon a life of the utmost rigor. The men could hardly be called companions for each had his own little cell or rather a tiny house and in this he spent his life praying, meditating and copying manuscripts. He was seldom permitted to speak and indeed his seldom had an opportunity. Once a day food was silently passed in at his window. Three times a week he took only bread and water. Twice a week vegetables were given him which he might cook for himself. On Sundays and Thursdays he was allowed to eat cheese or eggs and even fish if any had been given to the convent. Meat he was never permitted to taste. On Sundays and feast days he had the rare indulgence of dining with the other monks but in silence of course. He wore constantly a shirt of the roughest hair cloth and over it a white cassock. Over the cassock he wore a scapulary that is a long piece of cloth hanging down in front and behind and joined at the sides by a band. His hood was white. Many Carthusian houses were established especially in France. Each of these was known as a Chartres in honour of the first home of the Order. In England Chartres became Chartres House. The Carthusian Order still exists hardly changed at all in its rule. At the Grand Chartres of today 36 monks have each a tiny apartment of four rooms. It opens into the cloister and the garden separates it from its next neighbour. Beside the cloister door is a sliding shutter through which food is silently passed in. Whenever the monk is in need of anything he writes the name of the article on a bit of paper and lays this beside the slide. It is brought him in silence. No one enters a little abode except its owner. As it was 800 years ago so now he may go to the refectory on Sundays and feast days and eat a silent meal with the other monks. Once a week there is a public walk that is the monks walk together and are permitted to talk. On other days the walk of the monk is a solitary pacing to and fro on a covered way adjoining his cell. The costume is still a white robe and cowl of wool. A white leather belt and a white wooden cloak. The main business of the order is prayer but the monks have a valuable library and they do much reading and studying. They maintain houses for the ill and needy. It was not many years after the founding of the Carthusian Order that the whole Christian world was aroused by hearing of the sufferings of the pilgrims to Jerusalem. Peter the hermit and others preached. Pope Urban called the famous council at Claremont and in 1095 the first crusades set out. But many remained at home who were just as earnest as the crusaders in longing to do something for the salvation of their souls. Some of them determined to become monks. They wished to live as simply and strictly as possible but there was no order that seemed to them severe enough. Cluny was now nearly 200 years old. The order was wealthy. It owned handsome buildings, broad spreading lands and much treasure. Its churches were loaded with ornament. The windows were of the richest stained glass. The chalices gleamed and glittered with jewels. Such surroundings seemed to the people who were seeking so eagerly for simple lives to be entirely too luxurious for their purpose. Of course the next step was the founding of a new order. The first monastery was built at Sittor and therefore the monks were called Cistercians. The Cistercians planned to build their convents as far from cities as possible. The houses were to be absolutely plain. A single turret for a bell was allowed but no other towers. Within the walls were to be bare. No images of saints were admitted and even the crucifix must be of wood. The candlesticks of the altar were of iron. The vestments of the priests were of course fustion. There were no hours of study for the Cistercians. They learned how to say their prayers and that was enough. Instead of studying or reading they spent much time in manual labour. Their food was rude and scanty and during the greater part of the year they ate only one meal a day. Their gowns and hoods were made of undyed wool and therefore they were often called the white monks. Their sleeves hung down far below their hands and a company of these monks sitting with crossed arms an attitude supposed to express great respect must have been an amusing sight. The Cistercians were successful farmers. In England they raised in men's flocks of sheep and in the 13th century they were the greatest wool merchants in the land. They had also large iron works and their wealth increased until they became as rich and powerful as the Clunyaks. The great man of the Cistercians was Saint Bernard. He was so zealous that he found the rigorous ways of the order none too severe for him. He was so eloquent that no one could resist him. He urged the Emperor of Germany to go on a crusade and much to the Emperor's own surprise he found himself promising to go. Saint Bernard preached to a group of students that it was better to save their souls than to study and straight away a score of them dropped their books and became his followers. These four orders were the most important of those founded in the 10th and 11th centuries but convents were nothing new and there were orders of all varieties for both monks and nuns. Some were but little less strict than the four that have been named. In others the monks had a fine time playing chess, keeping birds and dogs and even going hunting. Chaucer describes a monk who was very fond of hunting and when he rode says the poet Slyly one could hear his bridle jinging in the whistling wind as clear and as loud as the chapel bell. According to Chaucer this same monk liked a fat swan best of any roast and certainly some of the monks did not stint themselves in eating and drinking. It is said that the monks of Winchester once complained to Henry II with tears in their eyes that the bishop had insisted upon withdrawing several of their dishes and had left them only ten. The story declares that King Henry swore at them roundly and said that three dishes were enough for him. In rearing the buildings of a convent there was little variety in the general plan. The center of the whole establishment was an oblong space of green turf with sometimes a fountain and shrubs. This was called the Cloister Court. Around it was generally a covered walk whose roof was supported by beautifully wrought pillars of stone. Here the monks walked and studied and taught their pupils. The church was built at the north end of the court a wise plan for keeping off the cold north winds. On the east side of the Cloister was a chapter house or council chamber next to that was a dormitory or general sleeping house. On the south side was a refectory or dining room. Here there was always a pulpit or reading desk from which some religious book was read while the monks ate their meals. On the west side was the office of the seller whose business it was to look after food and drink. Near it was a guest house sometimes richly furnished and decorated and any other buildings that might be needed. No monastery possessed what would today be called a library. Printing was not invented. Books were written by hand on expensive vellum or parchment and a collection of four or five hundred would have been looked upon with some wonder. There was almost always a writing room however usually over the chapter house. Here the monks copied laboriously with pen and ink the books used in the church service and those that were sold to outsiders. The capitals at the beginning of chapters were often elaborately painted with golden bright colors that are just as brilliant now as when they were put on. Many convents carried on schools and the school books also had to be made. The journal must be kept up. That is the account of what was done in the convent from day to day and sometimes annals of what was happening in the kingdom. A monastery did not run itself. It was not only a place where prayers were said and books were copied it was a place where people ate and drank and wore out shoes and clothes, cared for the sick, managed the school and entertained as if it were a great hotel. There was a vast amount of work to be done and a vast amount of thinking was needed to manage the work and see that nothing was left at loose ends. Woolen linen for clothing were raised on convent lands, spun and woven, cut out and made on the spot. Cuttle were raised and the skins turned for shoes. Vegetables and fruit grew in the convent gardens. Grain was grown in the fields of the establishment and was ground in the convent mill. Grapes were grown for wine and bees were kept for honey. There were carpenters, masons, fishers, hunters, blacksmiths and bakers. Guests were always coming and going. There were pilgrims, both humble and of rank, minstrels, merchants, jugglers, peddlers, nobles, sometimes even a king and his suite and all were to be looked after and treated according to their degree. This was the hospitality that was shown to Columbus and his little son at the Spanish convent of La Ravida and that opened the way for his voyage to the new world. All these different departments of a convent must be cared for and there must be some one person responsible for each. At the head of the whole establishment was the abbot. In his absence his place was filled by the prior. The care of money, clothing and keeping the accounts was in the hands of the chamberlain and he had also the responsibility of the archives or records of the convent. The librarian had charge of whatever books there were and also of the copying room. The golden silver chalices and other vessels used in the service and the ornaments of the altar were often encrusted with costly jewels. Then, too, there were relics of the saints and if these could cure the lame, heal the sick and open the eyes of the blind, they were surely of much greater value than all the golden gems to say nothing of the amount of gifts made to the convent by the grateful people who had been healed. These were cared for and guarded by the sacristan. It was no small task to look after the food and drink for hundreds of people, for the well and the ill, for monks, for young novices who were trying the life before taking their final vows, for servants, for pupils of the school, for the little children who had been given to the convent. This was the work of the cellarer, but it was only a part of his work, for he must always be ready for guests of all kinds and degrees. Perhaps these guests were only a little band of the humblest pilgrims who would be more than satisfied with the simplest fare, and perhaps they were a noble with his followers or even a prince or a king. Whoever came, whether one or a large company, the cellarer must always be ready to treat each one according to his rank. No bill was presented. The hospitality was a free gift to all, but it was expected that those who were able to pay would make a gift to their entertainers. Sometimes these guests or other friends of the convent presented large sums of money or even manners, whose income was to be given to the poor. Distributing this charity was enough to keep one man, the almana, busy. For the poor and needy never failed to flock about the convent gate. Indeed, only part of this work could be done by the almana, and if any of the poor folk or any monks were ill, they had to be given into the hands of the infirmarius for care and treatment. These were only a few of the officers. There was a terrier who had special care of the guest brooms, a porter who guarded the gate and saw to it that no one entered who had not a right to be admitted, a chanter who took charge of the choral service and taught the monks to sing. There was a master of the novices who taught them to work and to meditate and to behave themselves properly in all respects. He even cared for their dress, and it was his business to get from the chamberlain, the cals, gowns, shoes, bedding, and other things that they needed. In every large convent, each division of the work and management required so much care and responsibility that there was hardly any limit to the number of officials. The accounts of the convent were kept most minutely. There were no sundries. Every dish, even every nail, must be accounted for and the sheets must balance to the half of a farthing. Most convents were the lords of manners, sometimes a large number of manners, and even to keep the accounts of these, to say nothing of attending to their cultivation and the sale of the produce, must have been an enormous amount of work. However earnestly a monk might wish to withdraw himself from the world, it was impossible for a large monastery to avoid having constant dealings with outsiders. Besides the buying and selling which were always necessary, a town frequently grew up on convent land, as has been said before, and therefore paid taxes to the convent. But as the town grew larger and more independent, the townsfolk protested against these taxes, while the convent struggled emphatically to collect them. Sometimes a contest came to a real hand-to-hand fight. In this the monks were not helpless by any means, for an abbot who controlled a number of manners could often call out several hundred men to take up arms for him. In one case in England the monks stood by their ancient right of grinding the townsfolk's corn and charging them a good price for so-doing. The townsfolk, on the other hand, declared that in future they should grind their own corn. The quarrel grew, and the townsfolk actually besieged the convent for more than ten days before an agreement was reached. There were also quarrels with bishops and nobles, which then led to lawsuits, if not to blows and sieges. The monks took the stand that they owned obedience to the pope and to no one else. But a convent was in the diocese of some bishop, and as time passed most monks were ordained. Therefore the bishop naturally claimed some control over them. Such disagreements were sometimes settled by the archbishop, but often they were appealed to the pope. It was excellent policy for monks and nobles to be friendly, but they watched each other like cats and dogs. Nobles who knew themselves about to die and who hoped to in pardon for their sins by a rather belated generosity often made large gifts to convents. Naturally the monks were pleased and the heirs of the nobles were not, and often it was a question which side would succeed in keeping hold of the land or treasure. The work done by the monasteries of the Middle Ages was of the utmost value. In agriculture alone it can hardly be too highly estimated. The monks were the most skillful farmers of the time. They usually settled themselves in some desolate place. They cleared away the forests. They drained the swamps and made the wasteland into fruitful fields and gardens. They built roads and bridges. To the poor and depressed the convents were friends and helpers. They lessened the burdens of the villains on their own estates, and by their example those of the toilers on the lands of the nobles. They carried on schools and in an age of the sword and the lance they maintained interest in education. They saved classical literature and much history of manners and customs, as well as records of the events of their own day. Moreover, however wealthy and perhaps luxurious some of the orders may have become, they stood nevertheless before the greedy sovereigns and the lawless barons as reminders that they had been founded by men to whom riches and comfort were nothing in comparison with lives made pleasing to God. CHAPTER IX. Hermits, Friars, and Emissionaries When a hermit appears in a romance he is generally described as an old man with picturesque gray beard and hair, and either a long gray cloak or a scanty robe of sackcloth. He has had wild adventures in his youth, has perhaps done some deeds of violence to which he occasionally refers darkly, but now he keeps lonely vigils, he flogs himself with briars, and wears a hair shirt by way of atoning for his sins. He omits most of his meals, and when he does dane to eat, his food consists of a dry crust, a handful of crests, and a cup of water. Much of his time he spends in counting his beads. He cares nothing for money and despises comforts. His bed is the damp stone of his cave. His clothes he wears until they are ready to drop from him in pieces. His cell is always conveniently near the spot where someone has just been attacked by thieves and left on the ground as dead. He lifts the insensible sufferer to his shoulder, bears him to the cave, bathes his forehead with cool water from the spring, and then applies a wonder-working ointment, given him perhaps in his youth by some heathen Sarasin, and presto, in a day or two the man who had fallen among thieves is completely cured and either goes his way or else himself becomes a dweller in a cave of stone with a menu of crests and water. Such is the hermit of the romances, but the hermit of the Middle Ages was quite a different person. Sometimes it is true he made for himself a tiny abode deep in the forest or in the midst of some lonely desert, and sometimes he dug for himself a den in the side of a hill or hewed out of a rough cave in a cliff. Sometimes his abode was merely a hut of wattle work or a sort of booth covered with branches, but often he dwelt in a comfortable little cottage of wood or stone on a highway. Occasionally several hermits grouped themselves together, each having his own cell, or rather cottage, and using one chapel. The hermit dressed much like the monks, usually in a robe of black or gray, though there is at least one old picture of a hermit wearing a cheery little red cap. He was generally drawn with a book, a bell to ring for mass and to drive away evil spirits and a staff. As to what the hermits did with themselves all day long, one must remember that there were almost as many kinds of hermits as there are of people. There are stories of hermits who became so absorbed in prayer that the hours passed like minutes, of one who was able to wear the same cloak for many years because while he was praying, his friends quietly slipped it off, mended it, and laid it upon his shoulders again without his discovering its absence. There were hermits who made themselves useful by taking up their abode near some dangerous fording place and carrying pilgrims on their shoulders across the stream. Such is the hero of the legend of Saint Christopher, to whom a little child one day appealed to be born over the river. The strong man took the child upon his shoulders and waded into the stream, but the burden grew heavier and heavier, and he could hardly make his way across and stagger up the opposite bank. Child, he said, thou hast put me in great peril, I could bear no heavier burden. The child answered, Marvel not, for to-day, thou hast borne on thy shoulders the whole world and the weight of its sins. A hermit of a sociable turn of mind sometimes built himself a hut beside a bridge. Bridges were troublesome comforts in those days. They were supposed to be cared for by the landowners within whose boundaries they stood, and the lords often collected toll for their use, but the one that was left entirely to their care would have been rather dangerous. No one could deny that bridges were useful, but to build a needed bridge, or keep one in repair, was everybody's business, and therefore it was nobody's business. So it came to pass that building a bridge or caring for one was looked upon as being as much of a religious act as going to church. People sometimes built a bridge by way of doing penance for their sins, or in their wills they left money for one for the same reason. Some of the guilds took certain roads and bridges under their charge as a religious duty. On the larger bridges, chapels were sometimes built. It did not seem at all out of place, then, for a hermit to establish himself beside a bridge and claim farthing gifts from travelers on the ground that he was caring for it. If they got safely over, it mattered little to them whether he spent all the money in repairs or not. They rode away with the comfortable feeling that they had done their duty, and it had not cost much, and the hermit was reasonably sure of farthings enough for his needs. But begging at bridges was not the hermit's only means of gaining a livelihood. The mere fact that a man lived in a certain place and depended upon charity for his food was sufficient to induce people to make him gifts and to leave him money in their wills. Occasionally a wealthy man built a hermitage and endowed it just as one today might endow a hospital or a library. One might, then, put on a hermit's guard with a sincere wish to withdraw from the temptations of the world and pass the time in prayer and meditation or he might adopt the name of a hermit as an easy, comfortable way of making a living without working for it. There were so many of these pretenders that in the laws they were often classed with beggars and vagabonds. They make themselves hermits their ease to have, says the old poem of Pierce Plowman. In England, in the 14th century, it was forbidden for a man to call himself a hermit unless he had been formally pronounced one by his bishop, and there was a regular service for blessing a man and setting him apart to the solitary life. Some bishops went so far as to refuse to give a man the title of hermit unless provision had already been made for his maintenance. Hermits were not the only people who withdrew from the world. There were also anchorites and anchoresses who dwelt in little cells or houses attached often to some church or monastery. There was a service for the enclosing of a recluse. He was to be warned that it was no merit in him to shut himself away from others, but that he yielded to temptation or led others into wrong so easily that he was to be put to the cell as into a prison. This cell was sometimes a single room and sometimes a little house with a garden, but whatever it was, the recluse was supposed never to leave it so long as he lived. If he had but a single room it was to be of good size, to have three windows, one for light, one through which food might be passed, and one opening into the church. Here the recluse prayed, read, wrote, and sometimes loaded himself with chains and bore severe penances, or else lived at his ease and with a very moderate amount of discomfort. There is a quaint old book called The Anchron Rule, or Rule for Anchoresses, written by a bishop of the 13th century that gives a pretty good idea of the life of a woman recluse. She might so, not on silk and purses and such vanities, but on clothes for poor folk, or she might embroider vestments for the use of the church. She must not wear jewelry or ornamented girdles, she must be obedient to her bishop and to the pope. In her room there was to be an altar and a cheery little fireplace, and the good bishop gives her expressed permission to keep a cat that may sit on the hearth and purr. She may even entertain her friends, though in rather an unsatisfactory fashion. Her maid is to see to it that everything is done for their comfort, but the hostess is only permitted to open her little window once or twice and make signs to them of the pleasure that their visit is giving her. The window seems to have been the greatest temptation of an anchoress, for the busy world was passing by that little opening, and it was harder to forget it than if she had been entirely shut away from it in a convent. The bishop warns her that she must never put her head out and that she must not even hold lengthy conversations with anyone through it. She may sit and listen and not cackle. Whether all the recluses were invariably obedient is a question. Thousands of honest, conscientious men and women had given up their homes, their friends, and even the most innocent pleasures of the world to become monks or nuns or recluses to live a life that they believed would make them acceptable to God. They taught those who came to their schools, and they fed the hungry folk who gathered at their gates. But there were hundreds of thousands of people who were not reached by the monks and nuns or even by the clergy, and orders were now formed whose business it was, not to remain in a cloister, but to go out into the world to preach the gospel to the poor and needy and help them in every way possible. The men who joined these orders were known as preaching friars, from the Latin fratres, and from the French ferris, meaning brothers. The founder was Saint Francis of Assisi, as he is now called. His father had made him a partner in his business, but the son's only idea of managing money was to give away all that came into his hands, and the father soon brought the partnership to an end. One in particular of the sayings of Jesus burned in the young man's heart, and he said it over and over to himself. It was, Provide neither gold nor silver nor brass in your purses, nor script for your journey, neither to coats nor shoes nor yet staves, for the workman is worthy of his meat. This command Jesus gave to his disciples when he sent them out two by two, and the honest young Francis made up his mind that in this way preachers ought still to go forth into the world. He laid down his staff, put off his shoes, flung away his purse, and fastened up his gown with a girdle of rope. He gave up all claim to his inheritance, and went out among the people to tell them that God loved them, that Jesus had died, had risen, and was alive forevermore. A few other enthusiastic men joined him. He required that the vow of poverty should be a real one for them, both as individuals and as an order, that they should work with their hands for their food, and that if work or wages failed, they should beg their bread from door to door. Charming little stories of the saint and his followers are told in the Little Flowers of St. Francis. One tells us that he and Brother Mateo beg some crust of bread and sat down on a stone beside a fountain to eat them. O Brother Mateo, we are not worthy of this great treasure, St. Francis exclaimed. But the matter of fact Brother Mateo replied, How canst thou talk of treasure when we are so poor and in need of everything? We have neither cloth nor knife nor table nor house to eat in, nor servant or maid to wait upon us. St. Francis answered in all simplicity and sincerity, and this is just the reason why I look upon it as a great treasure, because man has had no hand in it, but all has been given to us by divine providence as we clearly see in this beautiful table of stone and in this clear fountain, wherefore let us beg of God to make us love with all our hearts the treasure of holy poverty. The Franciscans went about doing good. The name that their founder chose for them was Fratres Minoris, or the lesser brethren, for as he said, none could be less, that is, of lower degree than they. They cared for the sick and devoted themselves especially to the loess and lepers, those sufferers who were driven out of the towns as too disgusting for folk to look upon. They journeyed everywhere, from England to Syria. They had no fear, and without a thought of danger they went among the Mohammedans. Francis asked the sultan to have a great fire built, and I will enter into it together with your priest, he said, that you may see which religion is the true one. The sultan replied quietly that he hardly thought any of his priests would be willing to make the trial. He offered Francis many gifts, which the saint refused, and then sent him back to the Christian camp. Francis insisted upon absolute poverty. He would not even own a breviary. A church was given him to be the headquarters of his order. He was glad to have its use, but he refused to own it, and each year he sent to the donors a basket of fish to indicate that it was not his, but theirs. He loved animals, and if half the legends of his intercourse with them are true, they recognize this love, and dogs, doves, and even savage wolves trusted him. One of the most beautiful stories told of him is of his preaching to the birds. My little sisters, he said, you owe much to God your creator and not to sing his praises at all times and in all places, because he has given you liberty and the air to fly about in, and clothing for yourselves and for your young. He has given you fountains and rivers to quench your thirst, mountains and valleys in which to take refuge, and trees in which to build your nests. Your creator loves you much, and therefore he has bestowed such favors upon you. Beware, my little sisters, of the sin of ingratitude, and study always to praise your Lord. The story declares that the little birds flap their wings, bow their heads to the ground, and after he had made the sign of the cross to dismiss them, they rose from the earth and flew away in four directions, all singing sweetly. St. Francis cared little for the learning that comes from books, but educated men were charmed with his sincerity and his lovable character and became his followers. An order of Franciscan nuns was formed, the poor ladies, and also the order of the penitent men and women. The members of this third order might remain in the world, but they were to dress simply, to abstain from worldly amusements, to bear no arms saving defense of their country or the church, and to pay strict attention to the required fasts in times of special devotion. The dress of the minorites varied somewhat in different countries. In England they wore gray, and therefore in that country they were often called the gray friars. The Dominicans were founded by Saint Dominic of Spain, and from the start this order was made up of men of learning. There are many pleasant legends of Dominic in his younger days. One says that when he was baptized, a brilliant star shone upon his forehead. It is said that in time of famine he sold not only his clothes, but even his beloved books, to feed the hungry. Once he even offered to sell himself. He found a poor woman in great distress, because her son had been taken captive by the Moors. Sell me for a slave, he said eagerly, and then you will have money enough to ransom him. The Dominicans were often called the black friars because of the black cloaks they wore. They took the same vows of poverty as the Franciscans. Dominic allowed in their cells a bedstead and a rude bench and nothing else. Even in the church ornaments were forbidden, and the sacred vestments must not be made of silk or adorned in any way. These two mendicant, or begging, orders went up and down the countries of Europe, caring for the poor and preaching to them. They always made their journeys on foot. Saint Dominic carried a bundle on his shoulder and a stick in his hand. In passing through towns he wore shoes, but after he had left a town behind him he went barefooted, and the sharper the thorns or the stones of the road, the more cheery he appeared. There was need of preaching. The crusaders had learned of Mohammedanism, and some had actually given up their Christian faith and adopted the belief of the Sarasins. While there were thousands upon thousands who loved the church and believed all that she taught, there were other thousands who stood off at one side and criticized and refused to obey her commands. Then something more than persuasion was used. The disobedient son was excommunicated, that is, he was shut out of the church, and was treated like an outcast. His nearest friends, even his own family, were forbidden to help him in any way. They were not even allowed to sit at table with him. If he died before being reconciled to the church, it was taught that he would suffer punishment forever. If this man happened to be a king and remained obstinate, his whole kingdom was laid under an interdict. Churches were closed throughout the land, children could not be christened, marriages could not be solemnized, no services could be held at the burial of the dead. Now an interdict sometimes lasted for a number of years, and it worked in more than one way. It usually forced a king to yield, but the people who were true to the church had made desolate and miserable, and those who were inclined to be careless had made reckless and defiant. Strange new beliefs sprang up that were contrary to the teachings of the church. The poor men of lions, or Waldenzes, taught that there was no reason why men should obey the clergy. The Alba Gences, who lived in southern France between the Garonne and the Rhone Rivers, believed that the world had been made not by God but by Satan, and that there was continual warfare going on between the two powers, one of good and one of evil. These heresies must be put down, the church authorities declared, or soon there would be a terrible struggle. It had happened that on one of his journeys Dominic had spent the night in the house of a man who belonged to the Alba Gences. All night long they talked of the faith, and before the traveler went on his way in the morning he had convinced his host that the way of the church was the only true way. He now went among the Alba Gences, and did his best to convert them, but without success. They were protected by the Count of Toulouse, and by the Pope's orders war was waged against him. Their towns were destroyed, and large numbers of men, women, and children were slaughtered. In Italy there were many heretics, and the Emperor commanded that those who were proven guilty should be burned at the stake. Other countries followed his example. A system known as the Inquisition was established, and now anyone suspected of heresy could be brought before officials appointed by the church and examined with tortures too horrible to relate. If he was pronounced guilty he was given over to the secular arm, that is to the State, and was burned to death. It was a terrible time, but it must be remembered that religious freedom was unheard of, and that any belief contrary to that of the church was looked upon by churchmen as a crime against God, which his followers were bound to destroy. Even a man so gentle and merciful as St. Louis of France did not hesitate for a moment to punish heretics with the utmost severity. For this work of the Inquisition, members of the Franciscan and Dominican orders were usually chosen, because their vow of poverty would keep them from accepting bribes. People gazed scornfully at the magnificent buildings of the other monastic orders and said, and those people have taken the vow of poverty, but there was no question that the mendicant friars were as poor as the poorest. No one could think for a moment that they were not in earnest, and great numbers of people joined the orders. For some years the friars were not allowed to teach theology in the universities, but the learned professors of theology sometimes resigned their positions and became Franciscans or Dominicans. It is not easy to be in the very midst of life and still live entirely apart from the wishes and ambitions of those round about. People felt such reverence for the begging friars that money was almost forced upon them, and after a while they began to feel the same ambition for their greatness, not of themselves, but of their orders, that was felt by the monks. Their character changed, but in time there came reform and a return in some degree to the ideals of their founders. Somewhat earlier than the formation of these orders of monks and friars that have been described, zealous, enthusiastic missionaries preached the gospel in the countries of Western Europe. Two of the most famous of them were St. Patrick in the 6th century and St. Augustine in the 7th. St. Patrick is thought to have been captured by pirates when he was about 15 years of age and sold as a slave in Ireland. For six long years he led a lonely life tending sheep on the mountainside. He had no one to talk to and he began to talk to God. Sometimes, he says, he poured out his prayers a hundred times a day. His eyes were wide open for a chance to escape, and at the end of the 6th year he succeeded in making his way to his old home in Scotland. But in his dreams he often heard the voices of the Irish calling come and teach us of the Christ, and he went to France to study and prepare to be a missionary. When he was ready he returned to Ireland in a little boat. Pirates master, there are pirates on the shore, cried a herdsman. But when the master and his people came with arms to drive the pirates away, they found a little group of people of such noble and dignified bearing that instead of attacking them, he asked them to be his guests, and he and his family soon became Christians. Easter was at hand and St. Patrick, as was the custom, kindled an Easter fire. This time was also a festival among the heathen in honour of the goddess of spring, and when King Leogair went out to light his own fire, behold, he saw one burning on the hill of slain. The law of the land was that while the king's fire was ablaze, no other should burn in all the country around. The penalty of breaking this law was death. Leogair sent in wrath for these bold strangers to be brought before him to defend themselves. This was just what the fearless missionary wanted. On Easter Sunday he and his companions in their fresh white robes came into the presence of the king and told him of the religion of Christ. He listened closely and gave them permission to preach in his dominions wherever they might choose. This was the beginning of St. Patrick's preaching. Up and down the land he and his friends journeyed, teaching the people and founding churches, and when he died at a good old age the whole country mourned for him. It is thought that there were Christians in some parts of Ireland even before the coming of St. Patrick, but no one knows how the faith of Christ first became known in the land. In England too, the earlier inhabitants, the Britons, had learned Christianity, but they had either been slain or driven to the westward by the Saxons. These Saxons were heathen, and in the seventh century St. Augustine was sent by the Pope to preach to them. He landed on the Isle of Thanet and sent word to King Ethelbert, We are come from Rome and we have brought a joyful message. It assures to all who receive it everlasting happiness in heaven and a kingdom that will never end with the living and true God. Now the king had married a Frankish princess who was a Christian, and probably this is why he was willing to listen to these strangers. He was a little afraid that they might bewitch him however, and when he came to hear what they had to say he refused to enter a house and seated himself in the open air where no magic arts would have effect. He listened to their preaching and then told them that although their words were fair they were new and he could not forsake the belief which he and the nation had followed so long. But I will provide you with the house in Canterbury, he said, with food and whatever else you need, and you may preach and gain as many as you can to your faith. So the missionaries preached and prayed. They held services in the Queen's Church and by and by the King himself became a Christian. Then he gave the preachers a settled home in Canterbury and property enough to supply all their needs. So it was that the faith of Christ was preached in England. The King was ready to build monasteries and churches. Sometimes he built them from the foundation and sometimes he repaired a building left by the Romans. In Canterbury there was an old church which some of the Romans who were Christians had built and used. This he had put in order. In later years the more modern church that took its place became the Cathedral of Canterbury to which so many pilgrims went to pray at the Shrine of Thomas Abeket. In Germany a number of Irish priests worked among the people in the early part of the 7th century but when Saint Boniface came from England in 717 he wrote to the Pope that for 60 or 70 years past religion had vanished. He set to work most heartily to persuade the people of Hesse that the religion of Christ was true. Some believed what he taught and became sincere Christians. Many, however, were inclined to accept this new teaching but were a little afraid of what their old gods might do to them if they should desert them entirely. When they were in quiet and safety they were willing to trust the God of the Christians but when they were in danger especially if out on the stormy sea they thought it was more prudent to call upon Odin and Thor. Boniface discovered that some of the people who had been baptized as Christians were in the habit of slipping away into the woods out of the sight of the priests and there offering up sacrifices to trees and springs. Many, too, were practicing divination and soothsaying. The wise missionary consulted with some of the most sincere and courageous among his followers and they decided what to do to prove to these half-hearted folk that they need have no fear of their old gods. It seems that there was an immense oak tree in the land sacred to the God Thor and therefore called the Oak of Thor. The missionary took an axe and he and his faithful followers went straight to the sacred tree. Then the timid folk were thoroughly frightened. He raised his axe and struck a blow. He is the enemy of the gods, cried the people and they called down bitter curses upon him and stood trembling with fear. No one knew what would happen but they believed that at the very least fire would burst out and destroy this daring preacher. But Boniface kept on until he had cut into the trunk a little way when, behold, a gentle breeze rustled the upper leaves and suddenly the top of the tree snapped off and broke into four parts. At any rate that is the tradition. Then the people said to one another that is surely the power of the Christian God. They left off cursing the preacher and began to praise God. Boniface built an oratory from the wood of the tree. He founded monasteries where the monks worked on the soil and copied books, helped the poor and showed hospitality to travelers. He longed to die as a martyr and his wish was granted. On one of his journeys down the Rhine a crowd of heathens suddenly rushed out of the woods. He thought that they were coming to ask for baptism but instead of that they attacked him to get the booty which they supposed he had with him. He forbade his followers to protect him by the shedding of blood and holding the book of the Gospels over his head. He met the martyrdom that he desired. Not all the missionary work was done by monks and saints. There were kings who converted many to baptism but by methods decidedly different from the persuasions and arguments of the good missionaries. One of the two kings was Charlemagne. His people, the Franks, had become Christians but on their borders were the heathen Saxons. There was considerable trouble between the two peoples and at length Charlemagne set out to conquer the Saxons and in the warlike fashion of the day to make them Christians. Now, just as the people of Hess had a sacred oak so the Saxons had a sacred statue which stood northwest of what is now Castel. It represented a warrior holding a banner in one hand and a balance in the other. On his breastplate was a bear to indicate courage. On his shield was pictured a lion resting on a bed of flowers to express the idea that to the fearless warrior battle is a time of enjoyment. It is probable that in the first place the statue represented one Arminius who won a great victory over the Romans and that its name, Irminsul, had been originally Arminius. It stood on a high pillar. Priests lived near it to offer up sacrifices. Often prisoners taken in war and priestesses here practiced incantations and soothe saying. Charlemagne destroyed the Irminsul and pushed on until the Saxons were subdued. He told them that they must promise to be faithful to him and that they must be baptized. They had little choice in the matter for if they refused the headsmen with his axe stood waiting. If they submitted the royal missionary was ready to reward them with gifts. Naturally they promised whatever he wished and the converts were escorted to the banks of the Lipp River. Thither came the priests and monks and bishops of the Franks. Charlemagne and his nobles became sponsors and these fierce new Christians were baptized without delay. Indeed it is said that somewhat later they found the new faith so profitable in the matter of white robes and baptismal gifts of ornaments and weapons that they came every Easter in increasing numbers. The old story says that on one occasion fifty bold Northmen presented themselves for baptism. There were not enough robes of white linen prepared and therefore garments were hastily cut out of whatever cloth could be obtained and sewed up roughly like bags. One of the new converts cried in a rage, I have been baptized here twenty times before and every time I was clothed in the best of white garments and now you give me a sack better fitted to a swineherd than a warrior. This was in the reign of a weaker king than Charlemagne but even in his day the Saxons revolted again and again and struggled for their freedom. They destroyed the churches and tore down the crosses. Whenever they came to a convent they left it in ruins. Saint Boniface had been buried at the convent of Fulda. The monks caught up his body as their greatest treasure and fled for their lives. Wittekind, leader of the Saxons, finally became a Christian convert and a most zealous one. There is a tradition that he made his way into Charlemagne's camp in disguise as a spy and that he chanced to enter the tent where Mass was being celebrated. Just at that moment the priest was elevating the consecrated bread and as the heathen chieftain gazed in amazement and curiosity a light shone out from the host and in the light he saw a wonderfully beautiful child, the Christ child. The tradition says that Wittekind was discovered and taken to Charlemagne that he begged to be baptized and to enter the church and became an ardent teacher of his people. Another imperial missionary was King Olaf Turgvassen of Norway. He had a wild, strange boyhood. He was captured by pirates and sold as a slave. He became a fearless viking and succeeded in making his way back to Norway and getting possession of his great grandfather's throne. In Longfellow's Saga of King Olaf he says that the king was trained for either camp or court, skillful in each manly sport, young and beautiful and tall, art of warfare, art of chases, swimming, skating, snowshoe races, excellent alike in all. King Olaf loved warfare, the den of armor, and the flashing of steel and one of his commands to his scald, or poet, was sing me a song divine with a sword in every line. It was probably on one of his viking voyages to England that he became a Christian. He was as much in earnest in his religion as in his fighting and he set to work to make his countrymen Christians whether they would or not. Christianity was not new in Norway, but the Norwegians had little idea of giving up the old ways. King Olaf persuaded, he bribed, he threatened, he even tortured, and before his reign of five years was at an end he had made Norway an exceedingly uncomfortable place for anyone who persisted in worshiping heathen gods. In a fascinating old book, the Heimskringla, or Chronicles of the Kings of Norway, which has been translated from the Icelandic, are the stories of Olaf. Longfellow has put many of them into verse. At one time when King Olaf had called a meeting of his people, they came fully armed to demand that he restore the old worship of the gods and offer up sacrifices. Olaf was a match for them. He said, If I, along with you, shall turn again to making sacrifices, then I will make the greatest sacrifices. I will not offer up slaves or malifactors, but men of note and high degree. He named eleven of the prominent men present, in order them to be seized at once. Then he strode into the temple and smote the images of Thor and Odin and the other gods and dashed them to the floor. Without the temple there was a sound of fighting between the men at arms and the peasants. There was a shout of triumph and a wail of sorrow, and as Olaf stood in the doorway, he saw the dead body of Ironbeard, strongest of his foes. Longfellow thus tells the ending of this story of King Olaf's missionary work. King Olaf from the doorway spoke, Choose ye between two things, my folk, to be baptized or given up to slaughter. And seeing their leader, stark and dead, the people with a murmur said, O King, baptize us with thy holy water. This fashion of carrying on missions in the eleventh century was little like the methods pursued in the twentieth, but no one can say that it was not at least energetic and sincere.