fierce brood that they reared - are of extraordinary interest. His
impressions of the men and events of his time, his fund of anecdotes
and bon mots, his references to trivial matters, which more
dignified writers would never deign to mention, his sprightly and
sometimes malicious gossip, invest his period with a reality which
the greatest of fiction-writers has failed to rival. Gerald lived
in the days of chivalry, days which have been crowned with a halo of
deathless romance by the author of "Ivanhoe" and the "Talisman." He
knew and was intimate with all the great actors of the time. He had
lived in the Paris of St. Louis and Philip Augustus, and was never
tired of exalting the House of Capet over the tyrannical and
bloodthirsty House of Anjou. He had no love of England, for her
Plantagenet kings or her Saxon serfs. During the French invasion in
the time of King John his sympathies were openly with the Dauphin as
against the "brood of vipers," who were equally alien to English
soil. For the Saxon, indeed, he felt the twofold hatred of Welshman
and Norman. One of his opponents is denounced to the Pope as an
"untriwe Sax," and the Saxons are described as the slaves of the
Normans, the mere hewers of wood and drawers of water for their
conquerors. He met Innocent III., the greatest of Popes, in
familiar converse, he jested and gossiped with him in slippered
ease, he made him laugh at his endless stories of the glory of
Wales, the iniquities of the Angevins, and the bad Latin of
Archbishop Walter. He knew Richard Coeur-de-Lion, the flower of
chivalry, and saw him as he was and "not through a glass darkly."
He knew John, the cleverest and basest of his house. He knew and
loved Stephen Langton, the precursor of a long line of statesmen who
have made English liberty broad - based upon the people's will. He
was a friend of St. Hugh of Lincoln, the sweetest and purest spirit
in the Anglican Church of the Middle Ages, the one man who could