should no doubt have a very different story to tell. One abbot alone
appears to have been an exception to this general rule of good
conduct. This was Roger Norreys, a "dissolute monk" of Canterbury, who
was thrust upon the unwilling convent by Prince John when acting as
regent in King Richard's absence. After many years, and with much
difficulty, he was convicted "of seven or eight distinct offences" and
deposed. After the public exposure of his vicious life, and his unjust
and tyrannical rule, it is surprising that instead of being severely
punished he was sent to the cell of Penwortham and allowed to hold
office as Prior until his death. The story of the fight between the
convent, headed by Thomas de Marleberge, a clever and well educated
young monk who afterwards became abbot, and the wicked and shameless
Norreys, is related at full length in the chronicles which have come
down to us, written it would seem by Marleberge's own hand. The
scandalous behaviour of the Abbot and the neglected state of his house
was no secret, and the knowledge of it prompted the good bishop of
Worcester in an attempt to exceed his rights by visiting the Abbey in
order to inquire into the state of things existing there. In this act
he defeated his own ends, for the Abbot and monks immediately united
in common cause against so flagrant a breach of their privileges,
claiming, what was finally acceded to them, exemption from all
authority except that of Rome. The Abbot left the Monastery, and the
monks barricaded every entrance, so that when the bishop arrived he
was forced to encamp with his retinue upon the green outside the
walls. By the indiscretion of the bishop a legal point was raised upon
which the monks would by no means yield, preferring their present
miserable condition rather than allowing the slightest infringement of
what they believed to be their rights. The whole story, giving a
curious insight into the state of the country at that time, is too
long to relate here: an expensive and troublesome lawsuit followed,