Medieval English Nunneries c. 1275 to 1535 Part 48

Almost equally difficult was the reform of Mariensee, where again the Bishop of Minden did all in his power to oppose reform, having (according to Busch) been bribed by the nuns to defend them. The Duke of Brunswick, however, forced the nuns to admit the reformers and forced the Bishop to send four emissaries to a.s.sist in carrying out the reform. These four prelates entered the house first to ask the nuns if they would consent to receive reform; but they refused, and one young woman tore off her veil and crown and casting them at the feet of the Bishop's suffragan cried: "Always. .h.i.therto you have told me that I need not be reformed and now you want to compel me to be reformed. Behold your crown and veil! I will no longer be a nun." The Bishop's emissaries after this gave up their half-hearted attempt to reform the house and retired, leaving the field to Busch and his companions. The Duke then caused four carriages to be brought to the door, in which the rebellious nuns could be taken away, whereat the Abbess and the nuns climbed up into the vaults of the church and hid themselves there. The Duke ordered his servants to fetch ladders and place them against the roof and then to climb up and fetch down the nuns, but the prudent Busch prevented this, saying that the nuns would push over and kill the first who went up the ladder. Instead he went into the choir and, finding one nun still walking there, threatened her that unless the whole convent came down from the roof at once, they should be taken away in the carriages, "to-night you shall be in the Duke's castle of Nyerstadt, tomorrow in his castle of Calenberg, and after that outside his lands, perchance never to return." Whereupon the horrified nuns descended.

Then followed an amusing scene. All the nuns agreed to accept the new reforms, except one young woman, who refused:

"Then," says Busch, "I said to the lord Duke, 'This sister scorns obedience and contradicts everything.' Whereupon, finding how perverse she was, he seized her and tried to draw her to the carriage. But when he had thrown his arms about her, she fell back flat on the ground, the Duke on the top of her, and the other nuns on the top of the Duke, each pus.h.i.+ng the other on to him, so that the Duke could not raise himself from off her, especially as his arms were crushed beneath her scapular. And we, who saw him lying thus, stood away, waiting for the end of the business. At length he got one arm away from her, and with it pushed off the nuns who were lying upon him, hitting them and drawing blood from their arms, for he was a man and the nuns were like children, without strength and resistance."

(This was the age of chivalry!) When he had got rid of these nuns he lifted the nun on whom he was lying, pulled his other arm free and sprang to his feet again, saying to the va.s.sals and servants, who were standing round: "Why do you allow your liege lord thus to be trampled under foot by nuns?" One of them replied for all, "Gracious lord! we have ever stood by thee where the war engines were hurling their stones and the bows their arrows; only tell us what we are to do and we will willingly do it." Then said he, "Whichever nun I seize, do you seize her too," and they replied.

"Willingly, gracious lord." Whereupon the nuns gave in and professed themselves willing to be reformed. But they were still recalcitrant at heart, and when Busch, Rutger and the Duke were going away, they all began to sing the antiphon "Media vita" at the top of their voices and pursued the hapless reformers through the church, pelting them with burning candles. One girl followed them outside to the cemetery, chanted "Sancte deus, sancte, fortis, sancte et immortalis" three times and falling on her knees, bit the ground thrice in sign of a curse, and threw stones and earth after them. In the end, however, even this stormy convent was reduced to peace and reform, after three reformed nuns from Derneburg were brought in to teach them[2146].

Busch had almost as much difficulty with the nuns of Derneburg, an Austin house near Hildesheim, in which, as he says: "the nuns had long lived an irregular life, owning private property, and, according to public rumour, incontinent," paying long visits outside their house as often as they pleased and performing only the minimum routine of monastic life. On one occasion, Busch tells us,

When I was taking their private possessions away from the nuns and placing them in the common stock, it happened that I was going through their cupboards and cellars, for several of them had a small cellar encircling the monastery, which was entered by three or four steps and had covered vaults, in which they kept their beer and other private allowances. They were showing me the cellars, and going down into them before me, and the last nun said to me: "Do you go first now, father, for my cellar is the same as those of the other sisters," and without thinking I did so. But when I went down into it, she suddenly clapped to the door or vault over my head and stood upon it. I was shut up alone in there, thinking what would have happened if the nuns had shut me up there secretly; and I shouted to my brother, who was standing outside with them, bidding him cause them to open the door and let me out. At length after some delay they opened the trap-door of the cellar and let me come out. After that I was never willing to go first into any closed place in any nunnery, lest anything of the kind should happen, and lest I should be unable to get out easily. But when two or three preceded me, then I followed them. One only going in front did not suffice me, lest they should shut me up for some time alone with her and then spread tales about me. The sister who did this was good enough and very simple, whence I was astonished that she should think of such a thing.

It was while he was reforming this house, too, that he was attacked by several armed laymen, who took the part of the nuns. The nuns of Derneburg were never effectually reformed, although Busch gave himself the greatest trouble over them. At the end of three years they prevailed upon their friends and relatives in the neighbourhood to get rid of Busch and his brethren, and the nuns received Henry, Abbot of Marienrode, as their spiritual father and reformer instead. But they did not gain by the change, for he, being a Cistercian, introduced a nun of his own order as their prioress, and finally the Bishop of Hildesheim, the Abbot of Marienrode and other reformers came one morning to the house and, rebuking the nuns for their imperviousness to reform, made them come away in all their old clothes, leaving their books and possessions behind them, placed them in carriages and distributed them among other houses, where many were forced to become Cistercians. The house itself was turned into a Cistercian priory. "Thus," says Busch, not without some satisfaction, "they lost the holy father St Augustine with me!"[2147]

The methods employed by Busch to carry out a reform were to undertake the initial stages himself and if necessary to obtain a few nuns from a previously reformed house to live in the convent and bring it to right discipline. He always began by hearing the confessions of the nuns, which often caused considerable fluttering in the convent. At St George, near Halle, he found that the convent was subordinated to the monastery of Zinna, and received its confessor from that house, which Busch decided to alter, for the Abbot of Zinna was impeding his reforms. He therefore bade the Abbess send the sisters to confess to him, but she replied:

"The sisters dare not confess to you by reason of the apostolic mandate and the abbot of Zinna and our own confessor, who comes from him."

Then Busch said:

"Because I have authority to do so, say to them: the confessor is sitting in the church, in front of the window, where you are wont to confess, so you may go there and confess." Then the prioress or eldest of the sisters came to the window and confessed fully to me ... and when she had finished I said, "Sister, have you more to say?" Whereat she cried in alarm, "Are you the provost of the Neuwerk?" I answered, "Even so." "Then have I confessed to the provost?" "Yea." "What now shall I do and say?" I replied, "Be silent and tell no one that I have heard your confession, so that the others may come to confess, otherwise you will be the only one to have confessed to me." She did so and receiving absolution left me, telling no one that she had confessed to me.

After that each nun who came received the same advice, until all had confessed[2148].

At Derneburg the nuns were afraid to come and confess for another reason.

There was current in the taverns and dining halls of the whole country side a tale of the terrible penance imposed by Busch upon a brother of his monastery of Sulte, who took a larger draught of drink from the drinking cup than Busch thought seemly, whereupon he was said to have caused the unfortunate man to lie for three hours before the dining table in the frater, with his mouth stretched open by a large horse-bone; and when one of the brothers burst out laughing at the sight, Busch was said to have thrown the drinking cup in his face. The weeping nuns informed him between their sobs: "We are virgins and maids, we cannot do such a great penance for such a little fault." Busch was obliged to a.s.sure them that the whole tale was a fabrication[2149]. At Escherde he had the same difficulty.

The frightened nuns were afraid to confess to me, because they had heard that I was wont to inflict very severe penances, which was not true, as I afterwards told them. Then their _praepositus_ said to them: "The bishop's mandate orders you to confess to him under pain of excommunication and if you refuse then you will be under an interdict.

My good ladies, I counsel you to confess to him. I will place beside him my servant with a drawn sword and if he says one bad or harsh word to you it shall cleave his head." When they saw and heard that they could not escape they consented to confess to me, but they sent before them first one bold nun in order to beard me. Seated in the confessional, she began, "Sir, what do you here?" I answered, "I lead you all to the kingdom of heaven."... Half the nuns confessed to me that day. To the third of them I said, "Sister, am I as harsh as you said I was?" and she replied, "You are a man of gold, gentle and kind beyond all things." In the evening, when we were supping I said to the _praepositus_: "What are your nuns saying about me? Am I as severe as they thought?" He replied, "When it was their turn to go to confession, the hair of their heads stood on end, but when they came away from you, they returned in great consolation." The next day I finished the others before dinner, and towards the end I asked one of them. "Am I as hard and severe as you heard?" and she replied, "Now you are honey-tongued. But when you have got our consent and have tied a rope to our horns to drag us along, then you will say to us: You must and shall do all that I desire." I answered her, "Beloved sister, fear not, for I shall always remain kind and benign towards you"[2150].

Besides confessing the nuns Busch and his fellow visitors went through the conventual routine with them, showing them how they ought to perform divine service, to behave in the frater and to hold chapters. The most efficacious means of reform employed, however, was to send for some reformed nuns from another convent, to dwell in the newly reformed house.

Nuns of the order of Mary Magdalen in Hildesheim went to Heiningen, Stederburg, Frankenburg, and the White Ladies of Magdeburg. Fischbeck was reformed by nuns of the Windesheim order. Marienberg was reformed by nuns of Bronopia and in its turn sent reformers to Marienborn and Stendal, where nuns of Dorstadt had already made reforms, from which the original members soon fell away. Two nuns and a _conversa_ were sent from Heiningen to the Holy Cross at Erfurt and the Abbess and four nuns of Derneburg went to Weinhausen[2151]. The newcomers were usually gladly lent and graciously received in their new homes; sometimes they remained and held office in the latter and sometimes they returned to their own houses, when the reform was firmly rooted. The tale of the reform of Marienberg is charming[2152]. Busch, with the consent of the chapter-general of the congregation of Windesheim, took from Bronopia two nuns, Ida and Tecla and a lay sister Aleidis, who for his sake and for the sake of the good work left their own country and their n.o.ble friends and relatives, and made a long and sometimes dangerous journey with Busch across Westphalia and Saxony to Helmstedt. Here they were joyfully received. Ida was made subprioress to introduce reforms and to order all the internal discipline of the house; Tecla, who was a learned lady, was made governess of the novices, teaching them to sing and to read Latin and "to write letters and missives in a masterly manner, in good Latin, as I have seen and examined with my eyes." Aleidis was made mistress of the _conversi_.

For three years these nuns dwelt at Helmstedt, beloved of all and bringing the place to excellent order. Then Tecla fell ill. The Prioress sent for Busch:

and I came and found her sitting in the infirmary and ordered her to be bled and to receive suitable medicine. And when I had remained there for two or three days I decided to go away without taking them and I bade them farewell at eventide;

for Busch had decided that it was time for the sisters to return to Bronopia:

After this the proctress of the house came to me, saying: "Beloved father! Sister Tecla is asking for you with tears, for she says she will never see you again. I beseech you that you will go and speak to her once again tomorrow, before you leave." I answered, "Willingly, for she is my dear sister and for G.o.d's sake and mine she left all her rich friends and her own country and followed me to this strange and distant land." The next day, therefore, I visited her in her bed, in the presence of Ida and Aleidis. Then she was better and was well content that I should go away and soon she recovered altogether from that illness.

Shortly afterwards Busch took the three nuns with him and they set off to drive back to Bronopia, staying at various monastic houses on the way; and the nuns of Helmstedt all the time sent messengers after them, with letters a.s.suring the three sisters of their love and sorrow. The journey was at length completed without any accident, except that fat sister Ida tumbled into a cellar at Wittenberg and hurt her leg, so that Busch had to carry her into the carriage.

To his account of this episode Busch subjoins four letters, one from himself, one from the prioress and stewardess of Helmstedt to the three sisters, one from the young scholars of the house to their mistress Tecla, and the reply of the three sisters to the convent and of Tecla to her scholars[2153]. In the Prioress' letter there is a vivid description of the sorrow of the nuns at the departure of their three visitors:

Our sister Geseke Zeelde wept most tearfully and could not go into the workroom, so grieved she after sister Aleydis. Sister Mettike Guestyn was so miserable that she could not eat or drink. When I went into the kitchen sister Tryneke wept so much that all who were with her in the kitchen wept too and said: "_O wi_, now has our leader gone away!"

When sister Elyzabeth Cyriaci began the office of the ma.s.s, she sang it so dolefully through her tears, that she could hardly sing. When she had to begin the 'Benedictus' after the 'Sanctus' she burst out crying, so that she could not sing at all, but sister Elyzabeth Broysen had to go on with it and she could hardly finish it. Geseke Obrecht and Heylewich the chantress are very sorrowful, because they did not say goodbye to you, for they did not know you were going so early. They now send you as many good wishes as there are sands in the sea. When the scholars come to school on Sunday, we cannot describe to you how many tears are shed there. The stewardess and I have to console the other sisters, but we are the rather in need of someone to console us. When we look on your places in choir and frater and dorter, then we grow sad and weep, saying, "O G.o.d, if only Bronopia were where Heiningen is, five miles away from us, then we might often visit each other, which now we cannot do, for we are forty miles away.

We are as it were dead to each other at the two ends of the earth." We have many other things to write to you, but because it is the middle of the night, we must separate and go to matins. Dearest sisters, we give you deepest thanks for all the good you have done for us, in spiritual and in temporal matters. G.o.d speed you a thousand times, in Jesus' name.... As many as there are pearls, as many as there are planets in the heaven, as many as there are ends to the earth, so many G.o.dspeeds send we to you[2154].

The letter of the little novices to sister Tecla deserves quotation, to show their progress under her tuition:

Ihesum pium consolatorem merentium pro salute! Notum facimus charitati vestre, charissima soror Tecla magistra nostra, quod nos omnes scholares vestre in magna sumus trist.i.tia et dolore de vestro a n.o.bis recessu. Non enim possumus oblivisci presentiam vestram, sed cotidie querimus vos, et dum non invenimus, tunc contristamur et dolemus. Vix potestis credere, quanta trist.i.tia et quantus dolor est in claustro nostro de vestra absentia tam de senioribus quam de iunioribus.

Quapropter petimus cordintime, sicut amplius non sumus nos invicem visure in hac mortali vita, ut oretis pro n.o.bis deum, ut taliter vivamus in hoc seculo, ut nos invicem videre valeamus in conspectu sancte Trinitatis. Valete, soror dilectissima, c.u.m charissimis sororibus vestris Ida et Aleide in domino semper! Et deus omnipotens omnem tribulationem et angustiam a vobis removeat et vestram sanct.i.tatem conservet tempora per eterna, Amen[2155].

It is a pretty picture of affection and concord, which is given by these letters, and may well be set against the pictures of conventual bickering, which are too often to be found in visitation reports.

Busch's reforms seem to have been very successful. He often mentions that such and such a house remained in a good state of reform for such and such a number of years, or up to the day on which he wrote. Sometimes he describes reforming prioresses or other nuns, who did good work in their houses[2156]; sometimes also he mentions the a.s.sistance given by a wise confessor or custos. His only real failure seems to have been Derneburg; this house withstood both his efforts (for three years he had acted as confessor, walking two miles before breakfast to confess the nuns before communion) and those of the Cistercian abbot of Marienrode, who had been their benefactor for over 300 florins; and Busch quotes rather bitterly the proverb current in Germany:

Gratia nulla perit, nisi gratia sola sororum.

Sic fuit, est et erit: 'ondanc' in fine laborum[2157].

But he seldom got _ondanc_ at the end of his work; and when his life drew to a close he could look back on hundreds of monks and nuns not only reformed by him, but also cheris.h.i.+ng for him the greatest grat.i.tude and affection. His was a large and humane spirit, and for all his zeal for reform and his reputation for sternness, it is plain that he had that greatest of gifts, the capacity to win the hearts of men.