gnation of Almighty God." He
asked the counsellors to arrange that this burden should not be laid
upon him with its consequent refusal, conflict, and disfavour. Richard
heard the tale and sent a message, "God bless you, but get away home,
and do not come here to-morrow as we said, but pray for us to the Lord
without ceasing," which message was most grateful to the bishop, and he
soon set his face north. His exultant chaplains felt sure that all would
turn out well, for on the steps of the chapel, when their hearts were
all pit-a-pat, they had heard the chorus prose of St. Austin being
chaunted, "Hail, noble prelate of Christ, most lovely flower," a lucky
omen! And again when they reached chapel doors they heard the bishops
and clerks within in unison continue the introit, "O blessed, O holy
Augustine, help thou this company."

A month later Richard won a smart little victory near Gisors, where King
Philip drank moat water, and nearly got knocked on the head. The king
announced this in a letter, and asked for more prayers, and Adam, the
biographer, felt that the heavenly triumph of his friend was complete.
He would have been less elate if he had known that all the bishops got a
similar letter, even wicked old Hugh de Pudsey.

Lincoln by this time was the home of learned and reliable men. The
canons, prebends, and placemen had been chosen with great care. Hugh had
cast his net far and wide and enclosed some very edible fishes. We know
of not a few. William of Leicester, Montanus, has already been
mentioned. Giraldus Cambrensis (a most learned, amusing, and malicious
writer, on the lines of Anthony A. Wood, or even of Horace Walpole) was
another. Walter de Map a third.{12} It was part of Hugh's high sense of
duty which made him fight with all his weight for a worthy though a
broad-minded use of patronage. He often upbraided the archbishop with
his careless use of this power, who was immersed in worldly business and
too given to bestow benefices for political or useful services. He said
himself that the most grievous worldly misfortune he ever suffered was
to find men whom he trusted and advanced turn out to be immoral
sluggards. Yet another of his promotions was that of William de Blois,
who afterwards succeeded him. In fact, like every great bishop of the
time, he gathered his _eruditi_, his scholars, around him, and these
were not looked upon as mere dreamers and impracticable bookworms. Lore
and action went hand in han