Part 21 (1/2)

”My Lord, that acknowledgment is trust money, which I will pay into the treasury of your Lord and mine.”

So they parted, to meet only once again. The Vaudois Prior was to go down with his friend to the river-side, to the last point where man can go with man.

Note 1. ”Je vais seul avec mon Dieu souffrir ma pa.s.sion.”--Bonnivard, Prior of Saint Victor.

Note 2. Vaudois is not really an accurate epithet, since the ”Valley-Men” only acquired it when, in after years, ejected, from their old home, they sought shelter in the Pays de Vaud. But it has come to be regarded as a name expressive of certain doctrines.

Note 3. ”They (the Jesuits) were cut off from family and friends.

Their vow taught them to forget their father's house, and to esteem themselves holy only when every affection and desire which nature had planted in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s had been plucked up by the roots.”

(_Jesuitism_, by the Reverend J.A. Wylie, Ll.D.) This statement is simply a shade less true of the other monastic orders.

CHAPTER TEN.

FORGIVENESS NOT TO BE FORGIVEN.

”Ay, there's a blank at my right hand That ne'er can be made up to me.”--_James Hogg_.

Before leaving Bermondsey, the Earl had accomplished one of the hardest pieces of work which ever fell to his lot. This was the execution of the deed of separation which conveyed his legal a.s.sent to the departure of his wife, and a.s.signed to her certain lands for her separate sustenance. Himself the richest man in England, he was determined that she should remain the wealthiest woman. He a.s.signed to her all his lands in Norfolk and Suffolk, the manors of Kirketon in Lincolns.h.i.+re, Malmesbury and Wyntreslawe in Wilts.h.i.+re, and an annuity on Queenhithe, Middles.e.x--the whole sum amounting to 800 pounds per annum, which was equivalent to at least 15,000 pounds a year. He reserved to himself the appointments to all priories and churches, and the military feofs and escheats. Moreover, the Countess was not to sell any of the lands, nor had she the right to build castles. So far, in all probability, any man would have gone. But one other item was added, which came straight from the human heart of Earl Edmund, and was in the thirteenth century a very strange item indeed. The Countess, it was expressly provided, should not waste, exile, enslave, nor destroy ”the serfs on these estates.”

[Note 1.]

The soul of Haman the Agagite, which had descended upon Margaret de Clare, fiercely resented this unusual clause. On the same roll which contains the Earl's grant, in ordinary legal language--which must have cost him something where he records her wish, and his a.s.sent, ”freely _during her widowhood_ to dedicate herself to the service of G.o.d,”-- there is another doc.u.ment, in very extraordinary language, wherein the Lady Margaret recounts the wrongs which her lord is doing her in respect of this 800 pounds a year. A more spiteful production was hardly ever penned. From the opening address ”to all who shall read or hear this doc.u.ment” to the concluding a.s.sertion that she has hereto set her seal, the indenture is crammed full of envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharitableness. She lets it plainly be seen that all the lands in Norfolk and Suffolk avail her nothing, so long as these restraining clauses are added to the grant. Margaret probably thought that she was merely detailing her wrongs; she did not realise that she was exhibiting her character. But for these four doc.u.ments, the two letters, and the two indentures, wherein Earl and Countess have respectively ”pressed their souls on paper,” we might never have known which was to blame in the matter. Out of her own mouth is Margaret judged.

With amazing effrontery, and in flat contradiction not only of her husband's a.s.sertion, but of her own admission, the Countess commenced her tirade by bringing against her lord the charge of which she herself was guilty. As he was much the more worthy of credit, I prefer to believe him, confirmed as his statement is by her own letter to the Pope. She went on to detail the terms of separation, making the most of everything against her husband, and wound up with a sentence which must have pierced his heart like a poignard. She solemnly promised never to aggrieve him at any time by asking him to take her back, and never to seek absolution [Note 2] from that oath! In one sentence of cold, cruel, concentrated spite, she sarcastically swore never to demand from him the love for which during one and twenty years he had sued to her in vain.

So now all was over between them. The worst that could come had come.

”All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching heart, the restless unsatisfied longing, All the dull deep pain, and constant anguish of patience!”

There was no more left to fear, for there was nothing left to hope.

The Countess, attended by Father Miles and Felicia, left Rochester in June for Romsey Abbey, where she solemnly a.s.sumed the veil of a black nun. She was now plain Sister Margaret, and in due course of time and promotion, she would become Mother Margaret, and then, perhaps, Prioress and Abbess. And then--her soul would be required of her.

Mother Margaret! What bitter mockery of a t.i.tle for the woman who had deliberately flung away from her as a worthless weed the white flower of love which she might have cherished!

Of course, the household was now scattered. Ada had been received into the household of the Countess of Gloucester, the King's daughter Joan.

Olympias was pining to return to Reginald, if she could form some idea in what part of the world he might be found; Clarice was awaiting her imperious lord's commands. The morning after the Countess had taken her last farewell of them all, as they were still in this att.i.tude of doubt and expectation, in walked Sir Lambert Aylmer. He was greeted with delight. Roisia was well, he reported, and sent her loving commendations to all; but the object of his coming was not to talk about Roisia. The Earl, with Sir Reginald, was at Restormel, one of his Cornish castles; but in a letter received from the latter gentleman, Sir Lambert had been requested to inform Olympias that their master desired them all to repair to Berkhamsted, whither he meant to come shortly, and they should then hear his intentions for the future.

”The saints send he mean not to be a monk!” said Olympias, shrugging her shoulders.

But nothing was further from Earl Edmund's purpose.

They reached Berkhamsted in a day or two, and to Clarice's great delight, found there not only Mistress Underdone and the two bower-maidens, but Sir Ademar and Heliet. It was a new and pleasant discovery that Heliet could travel. It had been a sort of accepted idea, never investigated, that her leaving Oakham was an impossibility; but Ademar had coaxed her to try, and Heliet was quite willing. The result was that she had reached Berkhamsted in safety, to her own intense enjoyment; for she had never before been a mile from Oakham, and the discovery that she was no longer a fixture, but could accompany her husband wherever duty called him was to Heliet unspeakable delight.

It was not till October that the Earl reached home; for he stayed at Bristol for the wedding of the eldest princess, Alianora, with Henri Duke of Barre, which took place on the twentieth of September. The morning after his arrival he desired to speak with the whole of his household, who were to a.s.semble in the hall for that purpose.

Olympias was positive that her master was about to take the cowl. ”And it would be so nice, you see,” she said; ”just a match to the Lady.”