The Portable Medieval Reader
Page 20
If, however, one of these heretics consents to swear simply, then you should say to him, “If you now swear in order to be released, you should know that one oath or two or ten or a hundred are not enough for me, but as many as I shall ask. For I know that you are dispensed, and are permitted a certain number of oaths when compelled by necessity, so that you may free yourself or others. But I mean to require of you oaths without number and, moreover, if I have witnesses against you, your oaths will profit you nothing. And then you have stained your conscience by swearing contrary to its dictates and because of this you will not escape.”
I have seen some of them who, in such great anxiety, confessed their errors, in order to escape. Others, however, then declared openly that, if it would be of no avail for their escape to swear once or a certain number of times and no more, they refused to swear at all, and said that all swearing is unlawful and sinful. And when one of them was asked why he wished to swear, if he considered it unlawful, he replied: “I wish to deliver myself from death by doing this, and to conserve my life, and I shall do penance afterward for my sin.”
From Manuel de l’inquisiteur, G. Mollat, ed. (Paris: Champion, 1926); trans. M.M.M.
The Impact of the Black Death
HENRY KNICHTON
1348-1350
IN THIS year [1348] and in the following one there was a general mortality of men throughout the whole world. It first began in India, then in Tharsis [Taurus?], then it came to the Saracens, and finally to the Christians and Jews, so that in the space of one year, from Easter to Easter, as the rumour spread in the Roman curia, there had died, as if by sudden death, in those remote regions eight thousand legions, besides the Christians. The king of Tharsis, seeing such a sudden and unheard-of slaughter of his people, began a journey to Avignon with a great multitude of his nobles, to propose to the pope that he would become a Christian and be baptized by him, thinking that he might thus mitigate the vengeance of God upon his people because of their wicked unbelief. Then, when he had journeyed for twenty days, he heard that the pestilence had struck among the Christians, just as among other peoples. So, turning in his tracks, he travelled no farther but hastened to return home. The Christians, pursuing these people from behind, slew about seven thousand of them.
There died in Avignon in one day one thousand three hundred and twelve persons, according to a count made for the pope, and, another day, four hundred persons and more. Three hundred and fifty-eight of the Friars Preachers in the region of Provence died during Lent. At Montpellier, there remained out of a hundred and forty friars only seven. There were left at Magdalena only seven friars out of a hundred and sixty, and yet enough. At Marseilles, of a hundred and fifty Friars Minor, there remained only one who could tell the others; that was well, indeed. Of the Carmelites, more than a hundred and sixty-six had died at Avignon before the citizens found out what had happened. For they believed that one had killed another. There was not one of the English Hermits left in Avignon....
At this same time the pestilence became prevalent in England, beginning in the autumn in certain places. It spread throughout the land, ending in the same season of the following year. At the same time many cities in Corinth and Achaia were overturned, and the earth swallowed them. Castles and fortresses were broken, laid low, and swallowed up. Mountains in Cyprus were levelled into one, so that the flow of the rivers was impeded, and many cities were submerged and villages destroyed. Similarly, when a certain friar was preaching at Naples, the whole city was destroyed by an earthquake. Suddenly, the earth was opened up, as if a stone had been thrown into water, and everyone died along with the preaching friar, except for one friar who, fleeing, escaped into a garden outside the city. All of these things were done by an earthquake....
Then that most grievous pestilence penetrated the coastal regions [of England] by way of Southampton, and came to Bristol, and people died as if the whole strength of the city were seized by sudden death. For there were few who lay in their beds more than three days or two and a half days; then that savage death snatched them about the second day. In Leicester, in the little parish of St. Leonard, more than three hundred and eighty died; in the parish of the Holy Cross, more than four hundred, and in the parish of St. Margaret in Leicester, more than seven hundred. And so in each parish, they died in great numbers. Then the bishop of Lincoln sent through the whole diocese, and gave the general power to each and every priest, both regular and secular, to hear confessions and to absolve, by the full and entire power of the bishop, except only in the case of debt. And they might absolve in that case if satisfaction could be made by the person while he lived, or from his property after his death. Likewise, the pope granted full remission of all sins, to be absolved completely, to anyone who was in danger of death, and he granted this power to last until the following Easter. And everyone was allowed to choose his confessor as he pleased.
During this same year, there was a great mortality of sheep everywhere in the kingdom; in one place and in one pasture, more than five thousand sheep died and became so putrefied that neither beast nor bird wanted to touch them. And the price of everything was cheap, because of the fear of death; there were very few who took any care for their wealth, or for anything else. For a man could buy a horse for half a mark, which before was worth forty shillings, a large fat ox for four shillings, a cow for twelve pence, a heifer for sixpence, a large fat sheep for four pence, a sheep for threepence, a lamb for two pence, a fat pig for five pence, a stone of wool for nine pence. And the sheep and cattle wandered about through the fields and among the crops, and there was no one to go after them or to collect them. They perished in countless numbers everywhere, in secluded ditches and hedges, for lack of watching, since there was such a lack of serfs and servants, that no one knew what he should do. For there is no memory of a mortality so severe and so savage from the time of Vortigern, king of the Britons, in whose time, as Bede says, the living did not suffice to bury the dead. In the following autumn, one could not hire a reaper at a lower wage than eight pence with food, or a mower at less than twelve pence with food. Because of this, much grain rotted in the fields for lack of harvesting, but in the year of the plague, as was said above, among other things there was so great an abundance of all kinds of grain that no one seemed to have concerned himself about it.
The Scots, hearing of the cruel pestilence in England, suspected that this had come upon the English by the avenging hand of God, and when they wished to swear an oath, they swore this one, as the vulgar rumour reached the ears of the English, “be the foul deth of Engelond.” And so the Scots, believing that the horrible vengeance of God had fallen on the English, came together in the forest of Selkirk to plan an invasion of the whole kingdom of England. But savage mortality supervened, and the sudden and frightful cruelty of death struck the Scots. In a short time, about five thousand died; the rest, indeed, both sick and well, prepared to return home, but the English, pursuing them, caught up with them, and slew a great many of them.
Master Thomas Bradwardine was consecrated archbishop of Canterbury by the pope, and when he returned to England, came to London. In less than two days he was dead. He was famous above all other clerks in Christendom, in theology especially, but also in other liberal studies. At this same time there was so great a lack of priests everywhere that many widowed churches had no divine services, no masses, matins, vespers, sacraments, and sacramentals. One could hardly hire a chaplain to minister to any church for less than ten pounds or ten marks, and whereas, before the pestilence, when there were plenty of priests, one could hire a chaplain for five or four marks or for two marks, with board, there was scarcely anyone at this time who wanted to accept a position for twenty pounds or twenty marks. But within a short time a very great multitude whose wives had died of the plague rushed into holy orders. Of these many were illiterate and, it seemed, simply laymen who knew nothing except how to read to some extent. The hides of cattle went up from a low price to twelve pence, and for shoes the price
went to ten, twelve, fourteen pence; for a pair of leggings, to three and four shillings.
Meanwhile, the king ordered that in every county of the kingdom, reapers and other labourers should not receive more than they were accustomed to receive, under the penalty provided in the statute, and he renewed the statute from this time. The labourers, however, were so arrogant and hostile that they did not heed the king’s command, but if anyone wished to hire them, he had to pay them what they wanted, and either lose his fruits and crops or satisfy the arrogant and greedy desire of the labourers as they wished. When it was made known to the king that they had not obeyed his mandate, and had paid higher wages to the labourers, he imposed heavy fines on the abbots, the priors, the great lords and the lesser ones, and on others both greater and lesser in the kingdom. From certain ones he took a hundred shillings, from some, forty shillings, from others, twenty shillings, and from each according to what he could pay. And he took from each ploughland in the whole kingdom twenty shillings, and not one-fifteenth less than this. Then the king had many labourers arrested, and put them in prison. Many such hid themselves and ran away to the forests and woods for a while, and those who were captured were heavily fined. And the greater number swore that they would not take daily wages above those set by ancient custom, and so they were freed from prison. It was done in like manner concerning other artisans in towns and villages....
After the aforesaid pestilence, many buildings, both large and small, in all cities, towns, and villages had collapsed, and had completely fallen to the ground in the absence of inhabitants. Likewise, many small villages and hamlets were completely deserted; there was not one house left in them, but all those who had lived in them were dead. It is likely that many such hamlets will never again be inhabited. In the following summer [1350], there was so great a lack of servants to do anything that, as one believed, there had hardly been so great a dearth in past times. For all the beasts and cattle that a man possessed wandered about without a shepherd, and everything a man had was without a caretaker. And so all necessities became so dear that anything that in the past had been worth a penny was now worth four or five pence. Moreover, both the magnates of the kingdom and the other lesser lords who had tenants, remitted something from the rents, lest the tenants should leave, because of the lack of servants and the dearth of things. Some remitted half the rent, some more and others less, some remitted it for two years, some for three, and others for one year, according as they were able to come to an agreement with their tenants. Similarly, those who received day-work from their tenants throughout the year, as is usual from serfs, had to release them and to remit such services. They either had to excuse them entirely or had to fix them in a laxer manner at a small rent, lest very great and irreparable damage be done to the buildings, and the land everywhere remain completely uncultivated. And all foodstuffs and all necessities became exceedingly dear....
From Chronicon Henrici Knighton, J. R. Lumby, ed., Rolls Series, vol. 92; trans. M.M.M.
Paris during the Hundred Years’ War
THE FALL OF THE GREAT
1413. Also, the first day of July, 1413, the said provost [Pierre des Essarts] was seized in the palace, dragged on a litter to the Heaumerie, and then seated on a plank in the tumbril, holding a wooden cross in his hand, clad in a black greatcoat, fringed and furred with marten, white breeches, with black slippers on his feet; in that condition he was taken to the market-place of Paris and there they cut off his head; and it was put higher than the others by more than three feet. And it is true that, from the time he was put on the litter up to his death, he did nothing but laugh, as he did in his great majesty, from which most people thought him mad; for all those who saw him wept so piteously that you would never hear of greater tears for the death of a man; and he alone laughed. And it was his belief that the common people would prevent his death; but he intended, if he had lived, to betray the city and to deliver it into the hands of the enemy, and himself to make great and cruel slaughter, and to pillage and strip the good citizens of the good city of Paris who had loved him so loyally; for he was wont to order nothing that they did not do as far as possible. It seemed that he had taken such great pride in himself for he had enough offices for six or eight sons of counts or bannerets. First of all, he was provost of Paris, he was grand butler, master of waters and forests, grand general, capitain of Paris, of Cherbourg, of Montgaris, grand falconer, and many other offices; from which he derived such great pride and lost his reason, and thus Fortune led him to this shameful end. And know that when he saw that he was going to die, he knelt before the executioner, and kissed a little image of silver that the executioner wore on his chest; and pardoned him for his death most gently, and begged all the lords that his fate should not be announced before he was decapitated; and they granted him this.
Thus was decapitated Pierre des Essarts, and his body taken to the gibbet, and hung the highest. And about two years before, the duke of Brabant, brother of the duke of Burgundy, who observed his outrageous government, said to him, in the hotel of the king: “Provost of Paris, Jehan de Montaigu took twenty-two years to get his head cut off; but truly you will not take more than three”; and he didn’t do it, for he took only about two years and a half from this word; and they said for amusement throughout Paris, that the said duke was a prophet speaking the truth.
INFLATION AND MISERY
1421. Also, at this time, at the feast of the Presentation [February 2], to comfort the poor people, there were again put upon the children of the Enemy of hell, impositions, fourths, and extortionate taxes; and the collectors of them were lazy folk who knew only how to live, who squeezed everything so closely that all merchandise was lacking, both on account of the money as well as the taxes. As a result such high prices followed that at Easter a good ox cost two hundred francs or more, a good calf twelve francs, a flitch of bacon eight or ten francs, a pig sixteen or twenty francs, a small cheese, quite white, sixteen Parisian sous, and all meat a high price; a hundred eggs cost sixteen Parisian sous. And every day and every night there were heard throughout Paris, because of the aforesaid high prices, such long complaints, lamentations, sounds of sorrow, and piteous cries that never, I believe, was Jeremiah the prophet more sorrowful when the city of Jerusalem was entirely destroyed and the children of Israel were led to Babylon in captivity; for night and day cried out men, women, little children, “Alas! I die of cold,” or “of hunger.”
And in truth it was the longest winter that one had seen for forty years; for at the fairs of Easter it snowed, it froze and brought all the misery of cold that one could imagine. And because of the great poverty that some of the good citizens of the good city of Paris saw being suffered, they went so far as to buy three or four houses which they made into hospitals for the poor children who were dying of hunger within Paris, and they had soup and a good fire and were well bedded down. And in less than three months there were in each hospital forty beds or more well equipped, which the good folk of Paris had given, and there was one in the Heaumerie, another before the Palais, and another in the Place Maubert.
And in truth when good weather came, in April, those who in the winter had made their beverages from apples and sloe plums emptied the residue of their apples and their plums into the street with the intention that the pigs of St. Antoine would eat them. But the pigs did not get to them in time, for as soon as they were thrown out, they were seized by poor folk, women and children, who ate them with great relish, which was a great pity, each for himself; for they ate what the pigs scorned to eat, they ate the cores of cabbages without bread or without cooking, grasses of the fields without bread or salt. In short, it was such a dear time that few households in Paris ate their fill of bread; for flesh they did not eat at all, nor kidney beans, nor peas, only herbs which were marvellously dear....
Also, in this time the wolves were so ravenous, that they unearthed with their claws the bodies of people buried in the villages and fields; for everywhere one went, one found people
dead in the fields and towns, from the great poverty, the dear times, and the famine which they suffered, through the cursed war which always grew worse from day to day.
A POPULAR PREACHER
1429. Also, the duke of Burgundy returned to Paris April 4th, the day of St. Ambrose, in a big and fine company of knights and squires; and afterwards, in about eight days there came to Paris a Franciscan named Friar Richard, a man of very great prudence, learned in discourse, a sower of good doctrine to edify his fellow-men. And so much he laboured there that one would scarcely believe it who had not seen it; for as long as he was in Paris, he missed only one day of preaching; and he began Saturday, April 16, 1429, at St. Geneviève, and Sunday following and the week following, that is, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday of the Innocents; and his sermon began about five o‘clock in the morning and lasted until between ten and eleven o’clock. And he always had some five or six thousand persons at his sermon; and he was raised, when he preached, on a scaffolding which was almost two meters and a half high....