ting the king. One of the king's
friends answered, "Mercadier is necessary, my lord the king, to your
war. We should lose our pains and also his services if the Lincoln
bishop's anathema should take effect." The king agreed that the risk was
too heavy, so he ordered Stephen de Turnham to take charge of the
bishop's goods, as he loved his life and limbs. This man had been
seneschal of Anjou under the king's father, and was well affected to the
bishop; but he was between the devil and the deep sea. With some
heaviness and nervousness Stephen moved upon Sleaford. Between
Peterborough and Market Deeping, whom should he fall in with but the
bishop and his party! The uneasy disseizers fetched a compass, halted,
and got hold of some of the clergy. They were as humble as Ahaziah's
third captain before Elijah. They were obliged to do it, but, poor
lambs, they would not hurt so much as a swan's feather. And would the
bishop, by all that was invokeable, kindly defer his anathema? or else
the king would be royally angry, and they would get more than they
deserved. The bishop answered the clergy, "It is not their parts to keep
our things whole. Let them go. Let them finger and break in upon the
goods, as they think fit. They are not ours but our Lady's, the holy
Mother of God." He then brought out the end of his linen stole from his
cloak (which stole he always wore, ready for confirmation and
excommunication) shook it and added, "This little bit of stuff will
bring back to the last halfpenny whatever they reeve away." He then
passed on to Buckden (near Huntingdon), where he issued orders to all
the archdeacons and rural deans, that so soon as the officers should
arrive they should clang bells, light candles and solemnly ban all who
should violently and unrighteously touch the property of their Church.
The flutter in the clerical dovecot was immense, but the bishop simply
said good-night to his excited chaplains and was soon in the sweetest
slumber. Except that he said Amen in his sleep a few more times than
usual, and more earnestly, they saw no trace of neural tremours about
his sedate carriage. He seems to have been well aware of the gravity of
the struggle, for he had already announced at Lincoln that he would have
to go abroad. He had gathered his children at the Mass, where he added
the priestly blessing from the law of Moses,{13} had commended himself
to their prayers, given them the kiss of peace and commended them to
God, an