the grave old prelate, who once preached so
mildly to the formers, commanded a regiment
of dragoons.

Osnaburg, they told me, was somewhere in
Germany, and things were different there. But
I have since found that even in England
bishops were formidable potentates in the good
old times. The Bishops of Durham were
palatines as well as prelates, and if they preached
the blessing of mercy ex cathedra, they not
unfrequently gave short shrift and summary
execution to petty wrongdoers whose guilt in
these degenerate days would be expiated by
a week's imprisonment. No doubt many a
shivering criminal was affectionately consigned
to the episcopal scaffold. A Bishop of Durham
was then the undisputed master of a small kingdom,
but the despotic power of more extensive
monarchies was concentrated in his person. The
bishop coined money at his own mint, levied taxes
for his own behoof, raised troopers for the
defence of his own realm or the maintenance of his
own power. He named his ermined judges of
assize, of Oyer and Terminer, of gaol delivery,
and of the peace. He could, if he pleased,
pardon all intrusions, trespasses, felonies,
outrages on women, and misprisions of treason.
He took, for his own perquisites, all fines for
alienations, amercements, forfeited recognizances,
post fines, and bishop's silver. He
granted licences to feudal lords to crenolate
and embattle castles a privilege not
appreciated by the miserable serfs around. The
bishops were lords admiral of the seas and
waters within the palatinate. They "enjoyed"
—that is the term—all wrecks of the sea, royal
fish, anchorage, wharfage, metage, and
forfeitures. They were partial to game and
venison, and therefore held in their own right
forests, woods, and chases, with courts to decide
summarily all questions incident to venerie. They
appointed all the authorities of the palatinate,
and these held office only "during the bishop's
pleasure," or for his life. They held courts
of justice, and named the judges, and these
courts embraced a Chancery, an Exchequer, a
court of Common Pleas, and a county court,
with full authority and severe sanctions.

O the good old times! And O the dear old
days! And O the preaching parrots! And
what a loss we have had of it! (This by way
of parenthesis.)

When so many courts, jurisdictions,
privileges and prerogatives existed, and when wars
between the Scots and borderers led to numerous
transfers of property, an immense mass of
documents necessarily accumulated. These
documents when they do not directly relate to,
indirectly illustrate, the history, antiquities,
public and private life, customs, rights,
properties, crimes, and punishments of the
palatinates of old. The collection if complete would
now be of immense extent, but evil fortune
befell it from the first. It is said that the
precious manuscripts from which the
Complutensian edition of the New Testament was
printed were subsequently used up in the
manufacture of cases for sky-rockets. With equal
recklessness and no less criminality, the records
of the palatinate were applied to stop up holes
made by rats and mice, to kindle fires, and even
make bonfires in times of public festival.
Barrows full, it is in evidence, were kicked about
the palace green, under the bishop's nose.
Little boys of the episcopal city made kites of
them, and for many a day the cooks of Durham
never wanted a bundle of deeds wherewith to
singe a goose. No "class" of documents can
now be formed, of a date anterior to the
Pontificate of Antony Bek, who governed from 1280
to 1311, though occasionally in turning over a
heap of manuscripts, a stray parchment is found
of earlier date, proving that a series did once
exist. The executors of Cosins, Bishop and
Palatine made short work of a vast quantity of
records. They feared—provident and careful men
—lest in succeeding generations troublesome
questions might arise concerning the titles to
the estates which the bishop had continued to
amass: so to obviate this inconvenience, they
deliberately burned eight chests full of the
ancient muniments of the see! In 1647 the
Scots swept into Durham, and in the language
of the historian, "made havoc of the bishoprick
and violated all its rights." One Captain
Brewer, with a company of troopers at his heels,
threw from the windows all " the records, books,
papers, and muniments he could find, and broke
up the presses which contained them, for
firewood." Prior to this invasion, a "great deal
box" full of charters and evidences, amongst
which was " that noted and famous record,"
the Liber Ruber or Red Book of Durham was
brought to the house of one George Neusam of
York city, without letter or direction. Given
by him to one Richard Harrison, the box and
its contents were never heard of more. So late
as 1854, when an Act of Parliament placed the
records of the palatinate under the charge of
the Master of the Rolls, it was found that all
the records of the Durham county courts had
disappeared, and not a fragment remained to
tell of their nature or their value.

More than four hundred years ago, Bishop
Neville raised a "goodly stone building" for
the reception of the palatinate records. Here
they were deposited, but not safely, as the woful
destruction of the records proves. The
authorities of the university of Durham wished to
acquire Bishop Neville's structure for the
purpose of a library, and the queen transferred to
them her rights in the building on condition
that they should provide a sufficient edifice
elsewhere to supply its place. In the autumn
of 1854, before the removal of the records to
the new building, they were inspected by Mr.
J. Duffus Hardy, who reported on their general
condition. He found most of the records "in
a lamentable state." The several officers having
charge of them were incompetent to read them
or afford any assistance to legal or literary
inquirers. One of the officers, a man seventy
years of age, had been appointed to his post
when eighteen months old! There were no