of art and
literature alone, at a time when England and France were so intimately
associated, makes her of special interest to us.

But what bearing, it may be asked, had Court life on the life of the
nun Roswitha in the convent of Gandersheim? To answer this question we
must recall briefly the position of the early religious houses, and
especially those of Saxony. Many of the foundations were royal, and,
in return for certain privileges, were obliged to entertain the king
and his retinue whenever he journeyed. Such sojourns naturally brought
a store of political, intellectual, and other information to the
favoured house. Added to this, the abbess of such a house, generally a
high-born and influential woman, was, in her position as a ruler of
lands as well as of communities, brought into direct contact with the
Court and with politics. To her rights of over-lordship were attached
the same privileges and duties as in the case of any feudal baron. She
issued summonses for attendance at her Courts, at which she was
represented by a proctor, and, when war was declared, she had to
provide the prescribed number of knights. In some cases her influence
was supreme, even in imperial affairs, extending also to matters
social and literary. Roswitha tells us how much she herself owed to
the two successive abbesses under whose rule she lived, for
suggestion, information, and encouragement in her literary work.

The convents of Saxony, as many elsewhere in the tenth and eleventh
centuries, were centres of culture in the nature of endowed colleges.
In some of them women resided permanently, and besides their religious
exercises, devoted themselves to learning and the arts, for the Church
of the Middle Ages took thought for the intellect as well as for the
soul. In others, no irrevocable vows were made, and if desire or
necessity arose, the student inmate was free to return to the world.
In others again, though residence was permanent, short leave of
absence from time to time was granted by the abbess, and the nun was
able to sojourn with her friends, or to visit some sister community.
But at Gandersheim the rule was strict, and a nun, her vows once
taken, had to remain within the convent walls. Yet even so, life there
was perhaps far less circumscribed than in many a castle, where the
men gave themselves up to war and the chase, and the women perforce
spun and embroidered and gossiped, since to venture without the walls
was fraught