f of the 13th century, and perhaps a
little earlier, there prevailed among the scribes in the
Scriptorium of St. Alban's, a peculiar character of writing
which is not recognizable in any other religious house in
England during that period; but which is traceable in some
foreign manuscripts, and even in private deeds executed in
England in the neighbourhood of St. Alban's during the 12th
and 13th centuries. These facts lead me to the inference,
that _the schoolmaster who taught the art of writing to
Matthew Paris and the other members and scholars of the
establishment at St. Alban's was a foreigner_; that his
pupils not only imitated their instructor in the formation
of his letters, but also in his exceptional orthography.'

What questions suggest themselves as we accept the conclusion arrived
at! Who was he, this 'foreigner,' who had come from across the sea to
bring in his outlandish novelties into the great scriptorium? Was he
some 'Frenchman' imported from sunny Champagne, where Thibaut, the
mawkish singer was making verses which his people loved to listen to?
Did he teach the young novices French as well as writing? Did he touch
the lute himself on Feast-days, and charm them with some new lyric of
Gasse Brusle, or delight them with one of Rutebeuf's merry ditties?
France was all alive with song at this time, and princes were rivals now
for poetic fame. It may be that this 'foreigner' brought in a taste for
light literature as well as for a new fashion in penmanship, and made
known to his pupils such alluring novelties as the 'Roman d'Alexandre,
soon to be eclipsed by the 'Roman de la Rose.'

The scriptorium at St. Alban's was founded by Abbot Paul, a kinsman of
Archbishop Lanfrance, when the great Abbey had already existed for three
centuries. Paul became Abbot eleven years after the Conquest, and he
showed himself an able and earnest administrator. From this time
learning and a love of books became a tradition of the house. Abbot
after abbot continued to add to the collection of MSS., and to increase
the value of the library. But St. Alban's had never had a great
historian of its own. Strange and shameful fact! East and west and north
and south, all over the land, there were great writers holding up their
proud heads. Out in the desolate wilds there at Peterborough, they had
been actually keeping up a chronicle for centuries--aye, and written in
the vern