or not real vineyards were grown, or real wine made
from them, in England has been a very vexed question among the
antiquaries. But it is scarcely possible to read Pegge's dispute with
Daines Barrington in the Archaeologia without deciding both questions in
the affirmative.--See Archaeol. vol. iii. p. 53. An engraving of the
Saxon wine-press is given in STRUTT's Horda.

Vineyards fell into disuse, either by treaty with France, or Gascony
falling into the hands of the English. But vineyards were cultivated by
private gentlemen as late as 1621. Our first wines from Bordeaux--the
true country of Bacchus--appear to have been imported about 1154, by the
marriage of Henry II. with Eleanor of Aquitaine.

NOTE (E)

Lanfranc, the first Anglo-Norman Archbishop of Canterbury.

Lanfranc was, in all respects, one of the most remarkable men of the
eleventh century. He was born in Pavia, about 1105. His family was
noble--his father ranked amongst the magistrature of Pavia, the Lombard
capital. From his earliest youth he gave himself up, with all a
scholar's zeal, to the liberal arts, and the special knowledge of law,
civil and ecclesiastical. He studied at Cologne, and afterwards taught
and practised law in his own country. "While yet extremely young," says
one of the lively chroniclers, "he triumphed over the ablest advocates,
and the torrents of his eloquence confounded the subtlest rhetorician."
His decisions were received as authorities by the Italian jurisconsults
and tribunals. His mind, to judge both by his history and his peculiar
reputation (for probably few, if any, students of our day can pretend to
more than a partial or superficial acquaintance with his writings), was
one that delighted in subtleties and casuistical refinements; but a sense
too large and commanding for those studies which amuse but never satisfy
the higher intellect, became disgusted betimes with mere legal
dialectics. Those grand and absorbing mysteries connected with the
Christian faith and the Roman Church (grand and absorbing in proportion
as their premises are taken by religious belief as mathematical axioms
already proven) seized hold of his imagination, and tasked to the depth
his inquisitive reason. The Chronicle of Knyghton cites an interesting
anecdote of his life at this, its important, crisis. He had retired to a
solitary spot, beside the Seine, to meditate on the mysterious essence of
the Trinity, when he saw a boy ladling