It may well be doubted whether in the history of civilised communities there is any record of a social cataclysm, not resulting from war or pestilence, so terrible as that which overwhelmed the commons of England after the dissolution of the monasteries, followed by measures of plunder extending through the reign of Edward VI. An abbat might not always be a good man of business, witness the dreadful financial condition in which Abbat Samson found the monastery of Bury St. Edmunds.[151] He might even be so pressed for money as to be driven to pledge with the Jews the arm or leg of a saint taken from the reliquary.[152] But he was a good landlord; the lands of the monastery were let to the yeomanry on easy terms. The misery of the French peasantry, largely due to constant English invasions, was so great, that one who knew France well, Chief Justice Fortescue, writing three hundred years before the Great Uprising, had to seek reasons for the fact that the peasantry did not rebel. “It is not pouerte that kepith Ffrenchmen ffro rysinge, but it is cowardisse and lakke off hartes and corage”: “thai haue no wepen, nor armour, nor good to bie it with all.” With their lot he contrasts that of the English yeoman. The might of England “stondith most vppon archers”: if they were poor, they could not be much exercised in shooting, “wich mey not be done withowt ryght grete expenses.”[153] For the English yeomen were a prosperous class, the backbone of the country. They were able to serve their country alike in peace and war: having means to send their sons to the universities, not yet appropriated by a class: able to help in the maintenance of the poor: stout soldiers in case of need—the best archers in the world. Latimer’s father was a type of the class. A yeoman, having no lands of his own, he held a farm at a rent of three or four pounds a year. The tillage of the farm kept half a dozen men, there was walk for a hundred sheep: Latimer’s mother milked thirty kine. Latimer recollected buckling on his father’s harness when the stout yeoman-soldier set out for Blackheath. He put Latimer “to schole, or elles I had not bene able to haue preached before the kinges maiestie nowe,” gave his daughters a portion, kept hospitality for his poor neighbours, gave alms to the poor, “and all thys did he of the sayd farme.” The Dissolution changed all that. The rapacity of the new landlords, who turned arable land into pasture, and quadrupled rents, is the despair of contemporaries. Latimer thus speaks of his father’s successor: “Wher he that now hath it, paieth xvi. pounde by yere or more, and is not able to do anything for his Prynce, for himselfe, nor for his children, or geue a cup of drincke to the pore.”[154]