In South Morgraunt stands Holy Thorn, more properly the Abbey of Saint
Giles of Holy Thorn, a broad and fair foundation, one of the two set
up in the forest by the Countess Isabel, Dowager of March and
Bellesme, Countess of Hauterive and Lady of Morgraunt in her own
right. Where the Wan river makes a great loop, running east for three
miles, and west again for as many before it drives its final surge
towards the Southern Sea, there stands Holy Thorn, Church and Convent,
watching over the red roofs of Malbank hamlet huddled together across
the flood. Here are green water-meadows and good corn-lands, the abbey
demesne; here also are the strips of tillage which the tenants hold;
here the sluices which head up the river for the Abbey mills, make
thunderous music all day long. Over this cleared space and over some
leagues of the virgin forest, the Abbot of Saint Thorn has sac and
soc, tholl and theam, catch-a-thief-in, catch-a-thief-out, as well as
other sovereign prerogatives, all of which he owes to the regret and
remorse of the Countess Isabel over the death of her first husband and
only lover, Fulk de Bréauté. Further north, in Mid-Morgraunt, is
Gracedieu, her other foundation--equally endowed, but holding white
nuns instead of white monks.
Now it so happened that as Prosper le Gai entered the purlieus of
Morgraunt, the Countess Isabel sat in the Abbey parlour of Saint
Thorn, knitting her fine brows over a business of the Abbot's, no less
than the granting of a new charter of pit and gallows, pillory and
tumbril to him and his house over the villeins of Malbank, and the
whole fee and soke. The death of these unfortunates, or the manner of
it, was of little moment; but the Countess, having much power, was
jealous how she lent it. She sat now, therefore, in the Abbot's great
chair, and before her stood the Abbot himself, holding in his hands
the charter fairly written out on parchment, with the twisted silk of
three colours ready to receive her seal. It was exactly this which she
was not very ready to give, for though she knew nothing of his
villeins, she knew much of the Abbot, and was of many minds concerning
him. There was yet time; their colloquy was in secret; but now she
tapped with her foot upon the stool, and the Abbot watched her
narrowly. He was a tall and personable man, famous for his smile,
stout and smooth, his skin soft as a woman's, his robe, his ring, his
cross and mere slippers all in accord.
At length, says he, "Madam, for the love of the Saints, but chiefly
for Mary's love; to the glory of God and of Saint Giles of Holy Thorn;
to the ease of his monks and the honour of the Church, I beseech your
Ladyship this small boon."