is Forester; Richard answers that my Lord of Ely
has already had his _carpentarii_ in Elm_set_, and marked out for his
own use all the best trees in the compass of it. Abbot Samson
thereupon answers the monk: "Elmswell? Yes surely, be it as my Lord
Bishop wishes." The successful monk, on the morrow morning, hastens
home to Ely; but, on the morrow morning, 'directly after mass,' Abbot
Samson too was busy! The successful monk, arriving at Ely, is rated
for a goose and an owl; is ordered back to say that Elmset was the
place meant. Alas, on arriving at Elmset, he finds the Bishop's trees,
they 'and a hundred more,' all felled and piled, and the stamp of St.
Edmund's Monastery burnt into them,--for roofing of the great tower we
are building there! Your importunate Bishop must seek wood for
Glemsford edifices in some other _nemus_ than this. A practical Abbot!

We said withal there was a terrible flash of anger in him: witness his
address to old Herbert the Dean, who in a too thrifty manner has
erected a windmill for himself on his glebe-lands at Haberdon. On the
morrow, after mass, our Lord Abbott orders the Cellerarius to send off
his carpenters to demolish the said structure _brevi manu_, and lay
up the wood in safe keeping. Old Dean Herbert, hearing what was
toward, comes tottering along hither, to plead humbly for himself and
his mill. The Abbot answers: "I am obliged to thee as if thou hadst
cut off both my feet! By God's face, _per os Dei_, I will not eat
bread till that fabric be torn in pieces. Thou art an old man, and
shouldst have known that neither the King nor his Justiciary dare
change aught within the Liberties without consent of Abbot and
Convent: and thou hast presumed on such a thing? I tell thee, it will
_not_ be without damage to my mills; for the Townsfolk will go to thy
mill, and grind their corn (_bladum suum_) at their own good pleasure;
nor can I hinder them, since they are free men. I will allow no new
mills on such principle. Away, away; before thou gettest home again,
thou shalt see what thy mill has grown to!"[23]--The very reverend the
old Dean totters home again, in all haste; tears the mill in pieces by
his own _carpentarii_, to save at least the timber; and Abbot Samson's
workmen, coming up, find the ground already clear of it.

* * * * *

Easy to bully-down poor old rural Deans, and blow their windmills
away: but who is the man that dare abide King Richard's