Introductory.
Inthe later Middle Ages the Abbey of St. Albans was the most brilliant, though by no means the wealthiest,1of the English monasteries. There was ample reason for this pre-eminence. Proximity to London kept its members abreast of the times and freed them from the stain of provincialism, and its position on the Great North Road ensured as its frequent guests the greatest men in the kingdom. Its hospitality became proverbial, and Matthew Paris records that there was room in the monastic stables for three hundred horses at one time. Always, too, there was the glamour of literary greatness as well as its association with St. Alban,2England’s proto-martyr, whose genuine relics by universal consent it was admitted to possess. Besides these special traits the Abbey bore the usual insignia of exempt houses—royal foundation, a wide franchise with episcopal jurisdiction, and a place for its abbot among the Lords in Parliament. The homage of some twelve daughter houses or cells, while not increasing its material prosperity, added considerably to its dignity.
Growth of St. Albans Legend.
The growth of the St. Albans legend is proof that it was no unconscious greatness the members enjoyed. In the eleventh century, when the monastery had become ‘the school of religious observance for all England’ arose the idea of a miraculous origin; it received final consecration in the narrative of Matthew Paris. Henceforth, it was sober history that King Offa founded the Abbey on August 1st, 793, when the ground opened miraculously, revealing the body of the martyr himself with a golden band around his forehead inscribed with his name. From this point its history was made to run on without a break; the names of successive abbots were given with the dates of their reigns, and the acquisition of existing possessions attributed to various of them by a method hidden from us. From a great deal of tradition little more can be deduced than that the Abbey was of royal foundation and exempt from episcopal jurisdiction, that it was early endowed with a wide franchise, and, by analogy, that morals and discipline would be by no means strict in Anglo-Saxon times.
Effect of the Conquest.
With the advent of the Norman Conquest we are on surer ground. Under Abbot Paul (1077–1097) the Abbey was purged of the abuses of the Anglo-Saxon period and a stricter discipline enforced, although only by the loss of exemption from episcopal control. The monastery was now rebuilt on a more magnificent scale, and for nearly two centuries St. Albans was a model house. Under the saintly John de Cella(1195–1214), a stern ascetic, the House perhaps reached its zenith. At no other time were feasts and vigils so strictly observed by the monks, who for fifteen years gave up drinking wine in order that the refectory and dormitory, then ruinous, might be rebuilt. During the Norman period St. Albans had been endowed by many gifts of manors. On some of these cells were founded,3but most of them were simply absorbed into the monastic estates, and of course brought within the Abbot’s jurisdiction. The effect of this territorial enrichment of the monastery was twofold. First, it tended to subordinate religious to secular functions: the Abbot became primarily a man of business absorbed in the administration of the estates. Secondly, it attracted the covetous glances of needy kings and popes. At the very commencement of the thirteenth century the Abbot had to face a reorganised Papacy intent upon obtaining funds for the realisation of its strong political ambitions. The Abbey had scarcely escaped the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Lincoln4(1163) when it fell under stricter subjection to Pope Innocent III. For the future each abbot was to go in person to Rome to secure confirmation of his election, that is to say to be mulcted in a vast sum of money.5Ina lesser degree the monastery was menaced by the Crown. Every vacancy put the convent at the mercy of the King’s escheator, who in practice could, and often did, exact far more than the sums to which he was entitled. Indeed, both kings and popes were coming to regard the Abbey as a sure source of wealth in any emergency, and they did not scruple to multiply excuses for continual exactions.6These dangers of papal and kingly oppression were self-evident, but in the gradual disintegration of feudal society lay a more subtle peril. The monastery’s failure to adapt itself to the new system of relationships which were springing up on lay estates brought upon it the further misfortune of unpopularity.
Decay of the Monastery.
The disfavour incurred by the attempt to retain the manorial system was increased when the organisation itself began to show signs of decay. The decline of religious fervour was followed by a gradual relaxation of monastic discipline, and comparative luxury invaded the cloister. After the death of John of Berkhamstead in 1301 the extent of the falling off began to be apparent. For the next generation the convent was in an unhealthy condition. But though weakened, the organisation was far from being destroyed. At times like this the traditional routine was invaluable. The writing of history, for instance, was continued,and the period is still known to us by the works of John de Trokelowe and Henry de Blaneford, contemporary chroniclers.
At this point our subject begins. The period may be broken up into two parts, and a line of division is supplied by the year 1396, in which Abbot Thomas de la Mare died. Taking our stand, first at 1396, and then at the Dissolution of the Monasteries, we shall look back over the two periods under review and summarize the chief tendencies by which they are marked.7