The Reign of William Rufus and the Accession of Henry the First, Volume 1 (of 2)
Date: 2022-02-21T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Great Britain -- History -- Henry I; 1100-1135; Great Britain -- History -- William II; Rufus; 1087-1100; William II; King of England; 1056?-1100; Henry I; 1068-1135; Great Britain -- History -- Norman period; 1066-1154; Normans -- Great Britain

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Title: The Reign of William Rufus and the Accession of Henry the First, Volume 1 (of 2)

Author: Edward A. Freeman

Release date: February 21, 2022 [eBook #67458]
Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: Clarendon Press, 1882

Credits: Carol Brown, MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS AND THE ACCESSION OF HENRY THE FIRST, VOLUME 1 (OF 2) ***

THE REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS.

London

HENRY FROWDE

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE

7 PATERNOSTER ROW

THE

REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS

AND THE

ACCESSION OF HENRY THE FIRST.

BY

EDWARD A. FREEMAN,M.A., Hon. D.C.L., LL.D.

HONORARY FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOLUME I.

Oxford:

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS.

1882.

[All rights reserved.]

PREFACE.

I HAVE now been able to carry out the design which I spoke of in the Prefaces to the fifth volume and to the second edition of the fourth volume of my History of the Norman Conquest. I have endeavoured to work out in detail the two sides of the memorable years with which I deal in these volumes, their deep importance for general and specially for constitutional history, and their rich store of personal and local narrative. In the former aspect, I believe I may claim to be the first to have dealt at length with the history of Bishop William of Saint-Calais, a history of deep constitutional importance in itself, and more important still with reference to the career of Anselm. It is no small matter to be able to show that it was not Anselm, but Anselm’s enemy, who was the first to appeal from an English court to the see of Rome. In this matter I have, I trust, brought out into its full importance a piece of history which has never, as far as I know, been told at length by any modern writer, though Dr. Stubbs has shown full appreciation of its constitutional bearings. Of less importance, but still more novel, is the mission of Abbot Jeronto to England, to which I have never seen any reference in any modern writer whatever. With regard to the career of Randolf Flambard, I have now worked out more fully many points which have been already spoken of both by myself and by Dr. Stubbs; but I cannot claim to have brought forward anything of great moment that is absolutely new.

In the part which consists of military and other narrative, I have, as usual, given all the attention that I could to the topography. I have visited every place that I could, and I have generally in so doing had the help of friends, often with more observant eyes than my own. I must specially thank Mr. James Parker for his help in Normandy and Maine, the Rev. J. T. Fowler of Durham for his help in Normandy, Maine, and Northumberland, Mr. G. T. Clark in Shropshire, Mr. F. H. Dickinson at Ilchester, the Rev. William Hunt at Bristol, and the Rev. W. R. W. Stephens in Sussex and Kent. I have also to thank His Grace the Duke of Norfolk for free access to Arundel castle, and M. Henri Chardon of Le Mans for much valuable help in that city. And, above all, I must again thank Mr. James Parker for much more than help in preparing the maps and plans which illustrate the book. Without him they could not have been done at all.

In North Wales and in some parts of Normandy and France I was left to my own inquiries. In South Wales I made no particular researches for this volume; but I hope that an old-standing knowledge of a large part of that country may not have been useless. Where I feel a real deficiency is in Hampshire. I could not have made any minute inquiries there without delaying the publication of the book for many months. But I have in former years been at Portchester, and I have seen something of the New Forest. And I feel pretty certain that no amount of local research can throw any real light on the death of William Rufus, unless indeed in the way of showing how local legends grew up. But something might perhaps be done more minutely to illustrate the landing and march of Duke Robert in 1101.

On this last point the place of the conference between Henry and Robert is satisfactorily fixed in the new text of Wace published by Dr. Andresen. I did not come across his volumes till most of the references to Wace had been copied and printed from the edition of Pluquet. But in the course of revision I was able in some cases to refer to Andresen also. His text is clearly a better one than that of Pluquet. But I cannot say that I have learned much from his notes, perhaps from the singularly repulsive way in which they are printed. Another German writer, Dr. Liebermann, has done good service to my period by publishing several unpublished chronicles to which I have often referred. Those of Saint Edmundsbury are of very considerable local importance. But there are other things that want printing. I hear from Mr. E. C. Waters that there lurks in manuscript a cartulary of Colchester Abbey, which contains distinct proof that Henry the First spoke English familiarly. I have never doubted the fact, which has always seemed to me as clear as anything that rested on mere inference can be. But it is something to know that there is direct witness to the fact, though it would be more satisfactory if one could refer to that witness for oneself. In the story, as told me by Mr. Waters, a document partly in English is produced in the Kings presence; the clerk in whose hands it is put breaks down at the English part; the King takes the parchment, and reads and explains it with ease.

I may mention one point with regard to topography in Normandy and Maine. I have now carefully written the names of all places in Normandy, Maine, and the neighbouring lands, according to the forms now received, as they appear for instance on the French Ordnance map. I am sure that people constantly read names like “Willelmus de Sancto Carilepho,” “Robertus de Mellento,” without clearly taking in that “Sanctus Carilephus,” “Mellentum”, &c. are names of real places, as real as any town in England. When one reads, as I have read, of “Bishop Karilef,” “the Honour of the Eagle,” and so forth, it is plain that those who write in that way have no clear notion of Saint-Calais and Laigle as real places. Yet all these towns are still there; to most of them the railway is open, and there are trains. On the other hand, the confusions of French writers about English places are, if possible, more amazing. A German writer, meanwhile, is pretty sure to know where any place, either in France or England, is, though he may be sometimes a little lifeless in his way of dealing with it.

I have now pretty well done with the history of the Norman Conquest of England, except so far as I still hope to put forth my story on a scale intermediate between five—or rather seven—large volumes and one very small one. But I should be well pleased to go on with another piece of history of the same date, the essential importance of which and its close connexion with that with which I have been dealing is being always brought more and fully home to me. The Norman in the great island of the Ocean and the Norman in the great island of the Mediterranean naturally form companion pieces. I have made some acquaintance with the Rogers and Williams of Sicily in their own home, and I should be well pleased to make that acquaintance more intimate. Palermo follows naturally on Winchester and Rouen. The pleasure-house of William the Bad is the skeleton of the Conqueror’s Tower with a wholly different life breathed into it by Saracenic artists. But the points of view from which we may approach Sicily, the meeting-place of the nations, and the rich and various sources of interest which are supplied by the history of that illustrious island, are simply endless.

In all technical points these volumes follow the exact pattern of the History of the Norman Conquest. And I take a knowledge of that work for granted, and I assume all points which I believe myself to have explained or established in it. But I have added to these volumes, what I have not added to any of their predecessors, a Chronological Summary, distinct from the Table of Contents. It is, I think, a necessary companion to a narrative in which I could not strictly follow chronological order, but had to keep several contemporary lines of story distinct. Alongside of the History of William Rufus I set his Annals.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
A. D. | PAGE
Character of the reign of William Rufus | 3
The Norman Conquest in one sense completed, in another undone | 3
Feudal developement under Rufus and Flambard | 4
Growth of anti-feudal tendencies | 4
Extension of the power of England at home | 4
Beginning of rivalry between England and France | 5
Change in the European position of England | 5
Personal character of William Rufus | 5–6
His companions and adversaries; Anselm and Helias | 6
Last warfare between Normans and English; results of the struggle | 6–7
The Norman kingship becomes English | 7
Effects of the French war | 7
Scheme of the work | 8
CHAPTER II.
THE EARLY DAYS OF WILLIAM RUFUS. 1087–1090.
Character of the accession of Rufus; general acceptance without formal election | 9–10

§ 1. The Coronation and Acknowledgement of William Rufus.
September, 1087.

Rufus the enemy of the Church, yet his election specially ecclesiastical | 10
Wishes of the late King in his favour | 11
Special agency of Lanfranc | 12
Sept. 8, 1087. – William Rufus leaves his father’s death-bed and hastens to England | 12–13
He brings with him Morkere and Wulfnoth, and again imprisons them | 13–14
Duncan and Wulf set free by Robert | 13
Meeting of William and Lanfranc | 15
Sept. 26. – Coronation of William Rufus at Westminster | 15
His special oath | 16
Dec. 1087-Jan. 1088. – His gifts to churches and to the poor | 17–18
The Christmas Assembly; Odo restored to his earldom | 18–19
Special circumstances of William’s accession; no other available choice; comparison between William and Robert | 19–22

§ 2. The Rebellion against William Rufus.
March-November, 1088.

Beginning of the rebellion; discontent of Odo; influence of William of Saint-Calais | 22–24
March, 1088. – Gatherings of the rebels; speech of Odo; arguments on behalf of Robert | 24–26
Comparison of the elder and younger William | 26–27
Geoffrey of Coutances joins the rebels | 27
Treason of the Bishop of Durham; different statements of his conduct | 28–29
March, 1088. – Early movements in Kent and Sussex | 29
The Bishop forsakes the King; his temporalities seized | 30
He is summoned to the King’s court; action of Ralph Paganel | 31
March-May, 1088. – Lands of the bishopric laid waste | 32
April 16. – The Easter Assembly; the rebels refuse to come | 32
List of the rebels | 33–35
Loyalty of Earl Hugh of Chester | 34
Ravages of the rebels; of Bishop William, Roger Bigod, and Hugh of Grantmesnil | 35–36
History and description of Bristol | 36–40
Bristol occupied by Bishop Geoffrey; his works; ravages of William of Eu and Robert of Mowbray | 40–41
Robert of Mowbray burns Bath | 41–42
His siege and defeat at Ilchester | 42–44
William of Eu plunders in Gloucestershire; history and description of Berkeley | 44–46
Rebel centre at Hereford; action of Earl Roger | 46–47
The rebels march on Worcester; history and description of the city | 47–49
Action of Wulfstan; deliverance of Worcester | 48–51
Movements of Odo in Kent; he occupies Rochester | 52
Rochester, Tunbridge, and Pevensey | 52–53
The war at Rochester; history and description of the city and castle | 52–56
Duke Robert sends over Eustace of Boulogne and Robert of Bellême | 56
The three sons of Earl Roger | 57
Earl Roger at Arundel; history and description of the castle | 58–59
William of Warren; his earldom of Surrey; his loyalty; he keeps Lewes | 59–60
The King wins over Earl Roger | 60–61
Robert of Mortain holds Pevensey against the King | 62
Loyal Normans; Robert Fitz-hamon | 62
The Church and the people for the King | 63
William’s proclamations and promises; the English arm for him | 63–65
Meeting of the English army at London; William accepted as English king | 65–67
William’s march; English hatred of Odo | 67
Taking of Tunbridge castle | 68–70
March towards Rochester; Odo at Pevensey | 70
Duke Robert fails to help the rebels | 71
The English besiege Odo in Pevensey | 72–73
Robert at last sends help; the Norman landing hindered by the English | 74–75
Alleged death of William of Warren | 76
Pevensey surrenders; terms granted to Odo; Rochester to be surrendered | 76
The garrison of Rochester refuse to surrender; Odo taken prisoner by his own party | 77
William’s Niðing proclamation; second English muster | 78
Siege of Rochester; straits of the besieged; they agree to surrender | 79–80
Lesson of the war; the King stronger than any one noble; the unity of England | 80–81
The King refuses terms to the besieged | 81
Pleadings for the besieged, Odo and others; the King grants terms | 82–85
The honours of war refused to Odo; his humiliation; he leaves England | 87–89
June 4, 1088. – The Whitsun Assembly; confiscations and grants; amnesty of the chief rebels | 88
The Bishop of Durham again summoned | 89
His dealings with Counts Alan and Odo; he comes with a safe-conduct | 90–91
The Bishop’s ecclesiastical claims; he goes back to Durham | 91–92
Sept. 8 – Agreement between the Bishop and the Counts | 92–93
Nov. 2. – Meeting at Salisbury; trial of the Bishop; he denies the authority of the court | 95–97
Lanfranc and William of Saint-Calais | 97
The charge and the Bishop’s answer | 98–99
Lanfranc and Geoffrey of Coutances | 100–101
Debate in the Bishop’s absence; constitution of the court | 100–101
Debate on the word fief | 102
The Bishop’s seven counsellors | 103
He appeals to Rome; character of the appeal; position of Lanfranc | 103–106
The sentence pronounced; he renews his appeal | 106–107
Dialogue between the King and the Bishop; intervention of Count Alan | 107–109
The Bishop appeals again; the final sentence | 109–110
The Bishop’s demand for money; answer of Lanfranc | 110–111
The King’s offer; the Bishop gives sureties | 111–112
Question of the safe-conduct; charges of the Bishop’s men | 112–113
Conditions of the Bishop’s leaving England | 113–114
Nov. 14 – Durham castle surrendered to the King | 114
Nov. 21–26 – The Bishop’s voyage delayed | 115
New charges and summonses; the Bishop’s dealings with Osmund and Walkelin | 116–117
He at last sails to Normandy; his reception by Duke Robert | 117
Character and importance of the story; William of Saint-Calais the first to appeal to Rome | 117–119
Behaviour of the King, of Lanfranc, and of the lesser actors | 119–120
State of Wales; Rhys restored by a fleet from Ireland | 121
Gruffydd son of Cynan attacks Rhuddlan | 122
Action of Robert of Rhuddlan; he returns to North Wales | 123
Robert at Dwyganwy; description and history of the place | 123–124
July 3 – Approach of Gruffydd’s fleet; death of Robert of Rhuddlan | 124–127
His burial and epitaph | 127–129
End of the Norman Conquest; its confirmation and undoing | 129–130
Tendencies to union; the new dynasty and nobility accepted in an English character | 131–132
Rufus’ breach of his promises; his general oppression; no oppression of the English as such | 132–133
His employment of mercenaries; their presence helps the fusion of races | 133–134
Sale of ecclesiastical offices; prolongation of vacancies | 134–135
Restoration of Thurstan of Glastonbury | 135
Sept. 25 – Death of Geoffrey Bishop of Chichester | 135
Death of Abbot Scotland of Saint Augustine’s, Abbot Ælfsige of Bath, and Bishop Gisa of Wells | 136
1088–1122 – The bishopric of Somerset granted to John of Tours; he removes the see to Bath | 136–137
He obtains the temporal lordship of Bath | 137
Complaints of the canons of Wells and the monks of Bath | 138–139
Guy forced on the monks of Saint Augustine’s; disturbances and their punishment | 139–140
§ 3. Character of William Rufus.
May 24, 1089 – Death and burial of Lanfranc; his position in England and Normandy | 140–142
Change for the worse in the King’s character; rebukes of Lanfranc | 142–143
Personal description of William Rufus | 143–144
His conduct in youth; his filial duty; his conduct during the rebellion | 145–146
General charges against William Rufus; his marked personality | 147
His alleged firmness of purpose; his lack of real steadiness; his unfinished campaigns | 148–149
His alleged magnanimity; his boundless pride; story of the chamberlain | 149–151
His alleged liberality; his wastefulness | 151–152
His rewards to the loyal troops after the rebellion | 152
His extortions | 153
His generally strict government | 153
His lavishness to his foreign mercenaries | 153–154
1108 – They are restrained by the statute of Henry | 154
Stricter forest laws; story of the fifty English acquitted by ordeal | 155–157
Special vices of Rufus; old and new fashions of dress | 157–159
His irreligion; his favour to the Jews | 159–161
True position of the Jews in England | 160
Dispute between Jews and Christians | 162
He makes the converted Jews turn back; story of the convert Stephen | 162–165
William’s defiance of God and the saints; frequency of blasphemy | 165–167
Redeeming features in Rufus; little personal cruelty; respect for his father’s memory | 167–169
His chivalrous spirit; his word when kept; and when broken | 169–171
Chivalry a new thing; William Rufus marks the beginning of a new æra | 169–171
Illustrations of the chivalrous character | 171–174
Grouping of events in the reign of Rufus | 174
CHAPTER III.

THE FIRST WARS OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
1090–1092.

Character of the year 1089; natural phænomena | 175–176
August 11, 1089 – The great earthquake | 176
Character of the year 1090; beginnings of foreign adventure and domestic oppression | 177
The years 1090–1091; affairs of Normandy, Scotland, and Cumberland | 177
Connexion of English and Norman history; the same main actors in both | 177
Contrast between England and Normandy as to private war | 178
The old and the new generation | 179
History of Robert of Bellême | 179–181
His character; his engineering skill; his special and wanton cruelty | 181–183
His enmity towards Helias, Abbot Ralph, and others | 183–184
1110 – His final imprisonment by Henry | 184
History and character of Robert Count of Meulan and Earl of Leicester | 184–187
His fame for wisdom and influence with Rufus and Henry | 185–186
1118 – Story of his death-bed | 187

§ 1. Normandy under Robert.
1087–1090.

State of Normandy; interest of those who held lands in both countries | 188–189
Temptations to invasion | 188–189
Character of Robert; his weak good-nature and lack of justice | 190–191
Spread of vice and evil fashions | 191
Building of castles; garrisons kept by the Conqueror in the castles of the nobles | 192
Robert of Bellême and others drive out the Duke’s forces | 193
Robert’s lavish grants; Ivry; Brionne | 194
The Ætheling Henry claims his mother’s lands | 195
He buys the Côtentin and Avranchin; his firm rule | 196–197
Summer, 1088 – Henry goes to England; William promises him his mother’s lands | 197
He seizes them again; and grants them to Robert Fitz-hamon | 198
Autumn, 1088 – Influence of Odo with Robert | 198
Henry comes back to Normandy with Robert of Bellême; they are seized and imprisoned | 199
Earl Roger makes war on the Duke; his fortresses | 199–200
Odo’s exhortation to Robert | 200–202
Affairs of Maine; relations with Fulk of Anjou | 202–204
Robert acknowledged in Maine | 204
Chief men of the county; Bishop Howel, Geoffrey of Mayenne, Helias of La Flèche | 205
April 21, 1085 – Appointment of Howel to the see of Le Mans; his loyalty to the Norman dukes | 205–208
Temporal relations to the see of Le Mans | 207
Robert before Le Mans; general submission of the county | 208–209
Aug.-Sept. 1088 – Ballon holds out; description of the place; siege and surrender of the castle | 209–211
Robert attacks Saint Cenery; description and history of the place | 211–215
Geroy and his descendants; Saint Cenery seized by Mabel | 214–215
Siege and surrender of Saint Cenery; blinding of Robert Carrel | 215–217
Castle granted to Robert grandson of Geroy | 217
Surrender of Alençon, Bellême, and other castles; Robert disbands his army | 218–219
Robert of Bellême set free at his father’s request | 219–220
Henry set free; his good government of Coutances and Avranches | 220–222

§ 2. The First Successes of William Rufus.
1090.

Easter, 1090 – Schemes of William Rufus; assembly at Winchester; the King’s speech; war voted by the Witan | 221–224
William stays in England; his policy; his advantages in his struggle with Robert | 224–226
Power of William’s wealth; mercenaries; bribes | 226–227
Submission of Saint Valery; beginning of English action on the continent | 227–228
Submission of various castles; Aumale, Eu, Gournay, Longueville; description of Gournay and Longueville | 228–231
Ralph of Toesny and Count William of Evreux; their kindred; enmity of their wives | 231–232
Heloise of Evreux and Isabel of Toesny | 232–234
War between Ralph and Count William; Ralph vainly asks help of the Duke; he submits to King William | 234
Helias of Saint-Saens; he marries Robert’s natural daughter | 235
His faithfulness; importance of his castles; Saint-Saens, Bures, and Arques | 236–237
William’s dealings with France; Robert asks help of Philip; Philip sets out, but is bribed to go back | 237–239
The first English subsidy; first direct dealings between England and France; results of Rufus’ dealings with Philip | 239–241
Private wars not interrupted by the invasion; action of Robert of Bellême | 241–242
Robert of Meulan imprisoned and set free | 243
Duke Robert takes Brionne | 244
November, 1090 – Movement at Rouen; the municipal spirit; influence of Conan; his treaty with William Rufus | 245–247
A day fixed for the surrender to William; Duke Robert sends for help | 248
November 3. – Henry and Robert of Bellême come to the help of Duke Robert | 248–249
Rouen in the eleventh century | 249–253
Fright of Duke Robert; division in the city; Henry sends Duke Robert away | 253–256
Gilbert of Laigle enters Rouen; slaughter of the citizens; Conan taken prisoner | 256
Conan put to death by Henry | 257–260
Robert brought back; treatment of the citizens; imprisonment of William son of Ansgar | 260–261
November – Count William of Evreux marches against Conches | 261–266
Siege of Conches; settlement of the county of Evreux on Roger of Conches | 262–268
The three dreams; death of Roger of Conches | 268–270
1100–1108 – Later history of Ralph and William and their wives | 270–271
Orderic’s picture of Normandy; his English feelings | 271–272

§ 3. Personal Coming of William Rufus.
1091.

Christmas, 1090 – Assembly at Westminster | 273
Feb. 1091 – The King crosses to Normandy | 273
January – Duke Robert helps Robert of Bellême; siege of Courcy | 273–274
The siege raised at the news of William’s coming | 274
Treaty of Caen; cession of Norman territory to William | 275–276
Saint Michael’s Mount passes to William, the rest of the Côtentin and Maine to Robert; agreement to despoil Henry | 277–279
Settlement of the English and Norman succession; growth of the doctrine of legitimacy | 279–280
Dealings with Henry and Eadgar; Eadgar banished from Normandy; he goes to Scotland | 280–282
Partisans on each side to be restored | 282
The treaty sworn to; it stands but a little while | 283
Lent, 1091 – Robert and William march against Henry | 283
Henry’s preparations; Hugh of Chester and others surrender their castles | 283
Henry defends himself on Saint Michael’s Mount; he is welcomed by the monks | 284–285
Siege of the Mount; its position; character of the siege | 285–287
Personal anecdotes; story of Rufus and the knight who unhorsed him | 287–290
Contrast between William and Robert; Henry allowed to take water, and William’s answer | 291–292
Feb. 1091 – Henry surrenders | 292–293
Aug. 1091 – William returns to England with his brothers | 293
Stories of Henry’s adventures; evidence for his presence in England in 1091 | 293–295

§ 4. The Scottish Expedition of William Rufus.
August-October, 1091.

May, 1091 – Affairs of Scotland; Malcolm’s invasion of Northumberland; he is driven back | 295–297
Aug. 1091 – William and Robert in England; relations between Robert and Malcolm; stronger side of Robert and Eadgar | 297–298
September 3 – William’s march; state of Durham; restoration of Bishop William; his renewed influence | 298–300
Michaelmas – Loss of William’s ships | 300
The kings by the Scots’ Water; mediation of Robert and Eadgar; Malcolm does homage to William | 301–304
Questions as to the betrothal of Margaret and the earldom of Lothian | 303–304
Return of William; signatures to the Durham charters | 305–306
December 23 – Fresh disputes between William and Robert; Robert and Eadgar leave England | 306–307
October 15 – Fall of the tower at Winchcombe | 307
October 17 – Great wind in London | 308
1092 – Fire in London | 308
March 28 – Consecration of the church of Salisbury | 308–309
April 10 – The tower and roof blown down | 309

May 9 – Completion of Lincoln minster; the church ready for consecration; Thomas of York claims the jurisdiction of Lindesey; the King orders the consecration

309–312

May 6 – Remigius dies before the appointed day; the church remains unconsecrated | 312

§ 5. The Conquest and Colonization of Carlisle.
1092.

William’s conquest of Carlisle; popular mistakes as to Cumberland and Westmoreland | 313–314
603–685 – Early history of Carlisle; it forms part of the Northumbrian kingdom | 314
Scandinavians in Cumberland; destruction of Carlisle | 315
1092 – Dolfin lord of Carlisle; he is driven out; the city restored and the castle built | 315
The Saxon colony at Carlisle | 316
The earldom of Carlisle; later history of the city; the castle and the bishopric | 317–318
1093 – Fortunes of Henry; the men of Domfront choose him as their lord; description of Domfront | 319–320
Henry’s wars with Robert; he wins back his county | 320–321
The castle of Saint James is granted to Earl Hugh | 321–323
CHAPTER IV.
THE PRIMACY OF ANSELM AND THE ACQUISITION OF NORMANDY. 1093–1097.
1087–1092 – Character of the early years of William Rufus; chronological sequence of the history | 325–326
1093–1098 – Character of the next period; distinct lines of story | 326–328
Ecclesiastical affairs; working of the new ideas; new position of the King | 328
1089–1093 – Vacancy of the see of Canterbury; influence of Randolf Flambard | 328–329
§ 1. The Administration of Randolf Flambard.
1089–1099 – Early history of Flambard; question as to his settlement in England T. R. E. | 329
His service with the Bishop of London | 329–330
Flambard a priest, and said to have been Dean of Twinham | 330
Character of Flambard; his parents; his surname; his financial skill | 330–331
His probable share in Domesday; his alleged new Domesday | 331–332
His rise under Rufus; he holds the justiciarship; growth of the office under him | 332–333
His loss of land for the New Forest | 333
His systematic charges and exactions; the King to be every man’s heir | 333–335
The feudal tenure; wardship; marriage; dealings with bishoprics and abbeys | 335–336
Agency of Flambard; systematizing of the feudal tenures | 336–337
Flambard’s theory of land-holding; relief and redemption; dealings with wills | 337–339
Wardship; its oppressive working; wardship and marriage special to England and Normandy | 339–340
The two sides of feudalism; England in what sense feudal | 340–341
Flambard’s oppression falls most directly on the greatest estates; no special oppression of the English as such | 341–342
Dealings of the tenants-in-chief with their under-tenants | 342
Submission of the nobles; position of the king’s clerks | 342–343
Position of Rufus favourable for his schemes; effect on national unity | 343–344
Abuse of the old laws | 344
Dealings with church property; appointment and investiture of bishops and abbots | 345

Grant of the temporalities by the king; church lands become fiefs; analogy between lay and spiritual fiefs; Flambard’s inferences

346–347

Vacant prelacies held by the King; power of prolonging the vacancy | 347
Sale of bishoprics and abbeys; simony not systematic before Rufus | 347–348
Treatment of vacant churches; Flambard the chief agent | 349
Novelty of the practice; tenure in frankalmoign | 350
1092–1100 – Resignation and restoration of Abbot Odo of Chertsey | 350
Distinction between bishoprics and abbeys; the vacancies longer in the case of the abbeys | 350–352
English abbots; story of the appointment to an unnamed abbey | 352–353
Sees vacant in 1092 | 353
1091–1123 – Ralph Luffa Bishop of Chichester; his appointment and episcopate | 353–354
1091 – Death of Bishop William of Thetford; history of Herbert Losinga; he buys the bishopric | 354
1088–1091 – Three years’ vacancy of New Minster | 355
1091–1093 – Herbert buys the abbey for his father Robert | 355
1093 – Herbert repents; receives his bishopric again from the Pope; novelty of the act | 355–356
1092–1094 – Vacancy of the see of Lincoln | 356
1089–1093 – Vacancy of Canterbury | 356

§ 2. The Vacancy of the Primacy and the Appointment of Anselm.
1089–1093.

Effects of the vacancy of the see of Canterbury | 357
Special position of the metropolitan see; place of the Archbishop as the leader of the nation | 358–359
Appointment to the archbishopric; the see not granted to the King’s clerks | 359
The King’s purpose to keep the see vacant; his motives | 359–361
No fear of a bad appointment | 361–362
No thought of election either by the monks or by the Witan; silent endurance of the nation | 362–363
Results of the vacancy; corruption of the clergy; lack of ecclesiastical discipline | 363–365
Anselm; debt of England to foreigners; the Burgundian saints, Anselm and Hugh | 365
1080 – Birth and parentage of Anselm; Aosta | 366–368
Comparison of Lanfranc and Anselm; various sides of Anselm’s character; he is not preferred in England by the Conqueror | 368–369
Anselm and Eadmer; references to Eadmer in other writers | 369–370
Childhood of Anselm; his youthful licence | 370–371
1057–1060 – He leaves Aosta; his sojourn at Avranches | 371
1060 – He becomes a monk at Bec | 371
1063 – He is elected Prior; stories of him as Prior | 372
1078 – He is elected Abbot; Bec under his government; his widespread fame | 373
His correspondence | 374
Relations between Bec and England | 374–376
1090 – Foundation of the priory of Clare | 376
Frequency of lawsuits; Anselm’s desire to do justice | 376–377
1078 – His first visit to England; his friendship with the monks of Christ Church; his first acquaintance with Eadmer | 377–378
His general popularity in England; his love for England; his preaching and alleged miracles | 378–380
His friendship with the Conqueror and with Earl Hugh | 380–381
Feeling as to the vacancy of the archbishopric; Anselm looked to as the coming archbishop | 381–382
Earl Hugh changes the canons of Saint Werburh’s at Chester for monks; he asks help from Anselm | 382
Anselm refuses to go; repeated messages and refusals; he at last goes at the bidding of his own monks | 382–385
September 8, 1092 – Anselm at Canterbury | 385
His first interview with Rufus; his rebukes of the King; settlement of the affairs of Bec | 385–387
Anselm at Chester | 387
February, 1093 – The King refuses him leave to go back; William’s feeling towards Anselm | 388
Christmas, 1092–1093 – The Christmas assembly; the vacancy discussed by the Witan; petition of the assembly to the King | 387–389
Prayers for the appointment of an archbishop drawn up by Anselm | 389–390
Character of the year 1093 | 390
Discourse about Anselm before the King; the King’s mockery | 390–391
He falls sick at Alveston and is removed to Gloucester | 391
Repentance of Rufus; advice of the prelates and nobles; Anselm sent for; Rufus promises amendment | 392–393
His proclamation of reform; general satisfaction | 393–394
Beginnings of reform; prisoners set free; the bishopric of Lincoln granted to Robert Bloet | 394–395
March 6, 1093 – Rufus names Anselm to the archbishopric; unwillingness of Anselm | 396
Arguments of the bishops, of the King, and his own monks | 397–399
He is invested and installed by force | 398–401
Anselm’s renewed protest; his parable of the two oxen; the King orders the restitution of the temporalities of the see | 401–403
The royal right of investiture not questioned; no scruples on the part of Anselm; later change in his views | 403–404
No ecclesiastical election; sole action of the King; Gundulf’s letter to the monks of Bec | 404–405
Anselm tarries with Gundulf; consent of the Duke, the Archbishop of Rouen, and the monks of Bec | 406
April 17, 1093 – The King’s recovery; the Easter Gemót | 407
The King falls back into evil ways; he recalls his acts of mercy | 407–408
He keeps his purpose as to Anselm | 408–409
March-Dec. 1093 – Affairs of England and Wales; dealings between William and Malcolm; designs of William on Normandy | 409–410
Action of William of Eu; he suggests an attack on Normandy | 410–411
Dealings of Rufus with the Counts of Flanders | 411–412
Oct. 4 or 13, 1093 – Death of Robert the Frisian; accession of Robert of Jerusalem | 411–412
Interview between Anselm and the King at Rochester; his three conditions | 412–414

Anselm requires to be allowed to acknowledge Pope Urban; question of the acknowledgement of Popes; English feeling on the subject

414–416

The King’s answer; his special counsellors; Count Robert of Meulan and Bishop William of Durham | 417
The King prays Anselm to take the archbishopric; he asks for the confirmation of grants made by him during the vacancy | 418
Anselm refuses; statement of the case on both sides; the King’s advocatio of the archbishopric | 418–421
State of public feeling; special Gemót at Winchester; Anselm receives the archbishopric and does homage | 421–422
The King’s writ; the Archbishop’s thegns; clauses in favour of the monks | 422–423
Relations of the Archbishop to the city of Canterbury and the abbey of Saint Alban’s | 423–424
1093 – Death of Abbot Paul of Saint Alban’s; four years’ vacancy of the abbey | 423–424
The question as to the Pope left unsettled; no reference to the Pope in English episcopal appointments | 424–425
Order of episcopal appointments then and now; theory of the two systems | 425–427
Sept. 25, 1093 – Enthronement of Anselm; Flambard brings a suit against him on the day of his enthronement | 427–428
December 4 – Consecration of Anselm at Canterbury; list of the officiating bishops | 429–430
Successful objection of Thomas of York to the phrase “Metropolitan of Britain” | 430–432
Anselm’s general profession to the Roman church | 432–433
Thomas claims jurisdiction over Lincoln; Robert Bloet’s consecration delayed | 433
Christmas, 1093–1094 – Assembly at Gloucester; Anselm received by the King | 434

§ 3. The Assembly at Hastings and the second Norman Campaign.
1094.

Events of the year 1094; affairs of Normandy; their connection with Anselm | 434–435
Christmas, 1093–1094 – Robert’s challenge of William; war decreed | 435–436
Contributions collected for the war; Anselm unwilling to contribute; he at last gives five hundred pounds | 437–438
William first accepts the money and then refuses it | 438–440
Dispute with Bishop Maurice of London; judgement of Wulfstan | 440–441
February 2, 1094 – Assembly at Hastings; fleet delayed by the wind | 441–442
February 11 – Consecration of the church at Battle; William and Anselm at Battle | 442–445
February 3, 1093 – Death of Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances; his successor Ralph at Hastings and Battle | 444
February 12 – Consecration of Robert Bloet to Lincoln; his gift to the King; plot against Anselm; compromise with York | 445–446
1104–1123 – Character and episcopate of Robert Bloet | 447–448
Return of Bishop Herbert of Thetford; he is deprived by the King | 448
1094 – His restoration; he removes his see to Norwich | 448
February 17 – The ceremonies of Ash-Wednesday; Anselm rebukes the minions | 449–450
Anselm’s interview with the King; his silence about the war | 450–451
Anselm asks for help in his reforms; he asks leave to hold a synod; his appeal against the fashionable vices | 451–453
Grievances of the Church; wrongs of the church tenants | 454
He prays the King to fill the vacant abbeys; their relation to the King; hostile answer of Rufus | 454–456
Comparison of Lanfranc and Anselm; estimate of Anselm’s conduct | 456–457
Anselm tries to recover the King’s favour; the bishops advise him to give more money; his grounds for refusing | 457–460
The King more hostile than ever; Anselm leaves Hastings | 460
March 19, 1094 – William crosses to Normandy | 461
Vain attempts to settle the dispute between William and Robert; verdict of the guarantors against William | 461
Castles held by William; taking of Bures | 462–463
Robert calls in Philip; siege and surrender of Argentan; ransom of the prisoners | 463–464
Robert takes La Houlme | 465
Difficulties of Rufus; further taxation; levy of English soldiers; Flambard takes away the soldiers’ money | 465–466
Rufus buys off Philip | 466–467
Contemporary notices of the campaign; differences between England and Normandy; private wars go on in Normandy | 467–468
Relations between Rufus and Henry; war at Saint Cenery; the castle taken by Robert of Bellême | 468–469
Henry and Earl Hugh summoned to Eu | 469
October 31 – They go to Southampton and keep Christmas in London | 470
December 28 – The King comes to England; William and Henry reconciled | 470
February, 1095 – Henry goes to Normandy; his warfare with Robert | 470–471
Norman supporters of William | 471–474
Wretchedness of England; causes for the King’s return; affairs of Scotland and Wales; plots at home | 474–475

§ 4. The Council of Rockingham.
December, 1094-March, 1095.

Notes of the year 1095; councils of the year | 476
Jan., Feb., 1095 – Movements of William; alleged Welsh campaign | 476–477
April, 1094-Jan., 1095 – Last days and sickness of Wulfstan; his friendship with Bishop Robert of Hereford | 477–479
January 18, 1095 – Death of Wulfstan; his appearance to Bishop Robert | 480
January 22 – His burial | 480
Anselm and Urban; need of the pallium; elder usage as to it | 481–484
Anselm asks leave to go to Urban for the pallium; William refuses to acknowledge any pope | 484–485
Anselm asks for an assembly to discuss the question; he will leave the realm if he may not acknowledge Urban | 485–486
Frequency of assemblies under Rufus; a special meeting summoned | 487
Sunday, March 11 – Assembly at Rockingham | 487
Estimate of the question; the King technically right; no real objection to Urban on his part | 487–489
History and description of Rockingham | 490–491
Place of meeting; the King’s inner council | 491
Anselm’s opening speech | 492
The real point avoided on the King’s side; Anselm treated as an accused person | 493
Conduct of the bishops; the meeting adjourned till Monday | 493–494

Monday, March 12 – The bishops counsel submission; Anselm’s second speech; he asserts no exclusive claims; his two duties

494–496

Position of England towards the popes; Anselm and William of Saint-Calais | 496–497
Anselm not the first to appeal to Rome | 497
Answer of the bishops; the King’s messages; the bishops advise him to submit to the King in all things | 497–499
Anselm sleeps during the debate | 498
The bishops’ definition of freedom; Anselm will not forsake Urban | 499–500
Schemes of William of Saint-Calais against Anselm; he aspires to the archbishopric | 500–501
Objects of the King; promises of William of Saint-Calais; his speech to Anselm | 502–503
William’s imperial claims; his relations at the time to the vassal kingdoms | 503–505
The real question hitherto evaded; Anselm’s challenge; he states the real case | 505–506
New position of the bishops | 506
Anselm insulted; popular feeling on his side; story of Anselm and the knight | 506–508
Perplexity of the King; failure of William of Saint-Calais; the assembly adjourned | 508–509

Tuesday, March 13 – Debates in the inner council; William of Saint-Calais recommends force; the lay nobles refuse; speeches of the King and Robert of Meulan

510–511

The King bids the bishops renounce Anselm; he withdraws his protection; Anselm’s answer | 511–513
The King turns to the lay lords; they support Anselm | 513–514
Shame of the bishops; the King further examines them; his rewards and punishments | 514–516
Anselm wishes to leave England; another adjournment | 516–517
Wednesday March 14 – Anselm summoned to the King’s presence; the lay lords propose a truce; adjournment to May 20 | 517–519
Importance of the meeting at Rockingham | 519
William keeps faith to Anselm personally, but oppresses his friends | 519–521

§ 5. The Mission of Cardinal Walter.
1095.

March-May 1095 – Events of the time of truce; assemblies of the year | 521
Position of Urban | 521
March 1–7, 1095 – Council of Piacenza; its decrees; no mention of English affairs | 522–523
William’s schemes to turn the Pope against Anselm; mission of Gerard and William of Warelwast | 523–524
April 10 – Urban at Cremona; dealings of William’s messengers with Urban | 525
The Sicilian monarchy; relations between England and Sicily | 525–526
Gerard and William bring Walter of Albano as Legate; he brings a pallium | 526–527
Secrecy of his errand; his interview with the King; William acknowledges Urban | 527–528
Walter refuses to depose Anselm | 528–529
William and his counsellors outwitted by the Legate; he is driven to a reconciliation with Anselm | 529
May 13 – Whitsun Assembly; the King’s message to Anselm | 530
Anselm will not pay for the pallium; Anselm and William reconciled; their friendly discourse | 531–532
Anselm refuses to take the pallium from the King | 532
Popular aspect of the assembly | 533
Anselm absolves two bishops, Osmund of Salisbury and Robert of Hereford; he restores Wulfrith of Saint David’s | 533–534
June 10 – Anselm receives the pallium at Canterbury | 534–535
June 26 – Death of Bishop Robert of Hereford; the Legate stays in England; his dealings with Anselm | 535–537
The King’s northern march; Anselm entrusted with the defence of Canterbury | 537–538
Letters between Anselm and the Legate; the bishops object to Anselm’s position; his answer | 538–540
Question about the monks at Christ Church; Anselm and his tenants | 540–541
Christmas, 1095–1096 – Assembly at Windsor and Salisbury | 541–542
January 6 – Anselm attends William of Saint-Calais on his death-bed | 541–542
June 6 – Consecration of bishops; Samson of Worcester and Gerard of Hereford | 542–544
Anselm consecrates Irish bishops | 544

§ 6. The Crusade and the Mortgage of Normandy.
November 1095-March 1097.

March 7, 1095 – Council of Piacenza; appeal of the Emperor Alexios | 545
Nov. 18 – Council of Clermont; the first crusade | 545–547
Bearing of the crusade on our story; no king engaged in the first crusade; share of Normandy and Flanders | 546–547
The crusades a Latin movement; name of Franks | 546

Decrees of the Council; lay investitures forbidden; sentence against Clement and the Emperor; against Philip and Bertrada

548–549

Urban preaches the crusade; his geography | 549–550
French, Norman, and other crusaders | 550–552
Marriage of Robert of Meulan | 551
Duke Robert takes the cross; he applies to William for money; position of William towards the crusade | 552–553
Mission of Abbot Jeronto; he rebukes William | 553–554
Easter, April 13 – The Pope sends his nephew; peace between William and Robert | 554–555
Normandy pledged to William | 555
June 2 – Whitsun Assembly; taxation to raise the pledge-money; protest of the prelates | 556–557
Oppression of the tenants; plunder of the churches | 557–558
Contribution of Anselm; he mortgages Peckham to his monks | 558–559
September, 1096 – Conferences between William and Robert; Robert goes on the crusade; his companions | 559–560
Conduct of Robert; his treatment at Rome; his reception by Robert of Apulia | 560–561
1096–1097 – The crusaders winter in Apulia; siege of Amalfi; Bohemond takes the cross | 562
Feb. 1097 – Odo of Bayeux dies at Palermo | 563
Duke Robert crosses to Dyrrhachion; he does homage to Alexios | 563–564
Robert at Laodikeia; Hugh of Jaugy joins the crusaders; the rope-dancers of Antioch | 564–565
Robert refuses the crown of Jerusalem and goes back | 566
William takes possession of Normandy; character of his rule there | 566–567
The Côtentin restored to Henry | 567
1096 – Synod of Rouen; the Truce of God confirmed; other decrees; small results of the synod | 568–569
William’s appointments to Norman prelacies | 570
1090–1101 – Tancard Abbot of Jumièges | 570
1096–1107 – Etard Abbot of Saint Peter on Dives | 570
1098–1105 – Turold Bishop of Bayeux | 571

§ 7. The Last Dispute between William and Anselm.
1097.

Events of the year 1096–1097 | 571
State of Wales at the end of 1096 | 571
April, 1097 – Assembly at Windsor; Welsh war and seeming conquest | 572
William complains of Anselm’s contingent; position of the Archbishop’s knights; Anselm summoned to the King’s court | 572–574
Change in Anselm’s feelings; his yearnings towards Rome; aspect of his conduct | 574–578
Causes of his loss of general support | 578
His continued demands of reform; he determines not to answer the summons but to make a last effort | 579–580
May 24, 1097 – Whitsun assembly; Anselm favourably received; his last appeal | 581
He determines to ask leave to go to Rome; the King refuses | 581–583

June-Aug., 1097 – The charge against Anselm withdrawn; affairs of Wales; another assembly; Anselm’s request again refused

583

Wednesday, October 14 – Assembly at Winchester; Anselm renews his request; he is again impleaded | 584–585

Thursday, October 15 – Anselm and the bishops and lords; speech of Walkelin; the bishops’ portrait of themselves; Anselm’s answer

586–588

Part of the lay lords; Anselm’s promise to obey the customs; he is charged with breach of promise; alternatives given him

588–589

Anselm and the King; Anselm’s discourse; answer of Count Robert; the barons against Anselm | 589–592
Anselm allowed to go, but the archbishopric to be seized | 592–593
Anselm’s last interview with Rufus; he blesses him | 593–594
Anselm at Canterbury; he takes the pilgrim’s staff | 594
His treatment at Dover; he crosses to Whitsand | 595
The King seizes the archbishopric; Anselm’s acts declared null; the monks keep Peckham | 595–596
Rebuilding of the choir of Christ Church; works of Prior Ernulf | 596–597
Comparison of the trials of William of Saint-Calais, Anselm, and Thomas | 597–605
Anselm does not strictly appeal to the Pope | 598
He asserts no clerical privilege | 599
Question of observing the customs | 600
Comparison of the proceedings in each case | 600–601
Architectural arrangements | 601–602
Constitution of the assemblies; they become less popular; lessened freedom of speech | 602–603
The inner and outer council; foreshadowing of Lords and Commons | 603–604
The Witan and the Theningmannagemót | 604
Behaviour of Rufus, of Henry the First, of Henry the Second | 605
Effect on Anselm of his foreign sojourn | 606
His journey; dealings of Odo of Burgundy; he reaches Rome | 607
Councils of Lateran and Bari; story of the cope of Beneventum | 607–610
Position of Rufus; he is never excommunicated; probable effect of excommunication | 611–612
Anselm at Lyons; his letters to the Pope | 612
His letters to the King from Rome; William’s treatment of the letters | 613
Mission of William of Warelwast | 614–620
Nov., 1097-April, 1099 – William on the Continent | 614
Anselm at Schiavia; he writes “Cur Deus Homo” | 615
Anselm and Urban before Capua; Anselm and the Saracens | 615–617
Anselm wishes to resign the archbishopric; Urban forbids him | 617–618
October 1, 1098 – Council of Bari | 618
Anselm at Rome; dealings between the Pope and William of Warelwast; the excommunication threatened and respited | 618–620
Urban’s treatment of Anselm | 620–621
April 12, 1099 – Council of Lateran; protest of Reingard of Lucca; Anselm goes to Lyons | 621–622
July 29 – Death of Urban; William’s words on his death | 622–623
Aug. 13, 1099-Jan. 21, 1108 – Paschal the Second Pope; William’s words on his election | 623

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CHRONOLOGY OF THE YEARS 1087–1102.

1087 | September 8 | William Rufus leaves his father’s death-bed and hastens to England.
| He imprisons Morkere and Wulfnoth.
| He is accepted by Lanfranc.
| In Normandy Robert of Bellême and others drive out the Duke’s garrisons.
| September 26 | William is crowned at Westminster.
| He makes gifts for his father’s soul.
| December 25 | The Christmas assembly. Odo restored to his earldom.
1088 | -January 6
| Death of Abbot Scotland.
| Abbot Guy appointed at Saint Augustine’s.
| March | Conspiracy against the King. Rebellious movements in Kent and Sussex.
| Bishop William secures London, Dover, and Hastings for the King.
| March-May | The Bishop forsakes the King; his temporalities seized. He is summoned to the King’s court, and his lands laid waste.
| April 16 | The Easter assembly; the rebel nobles fail to appear.
| April-June | Ravaging of Gloucestershire and Somerset. Deliverance of Worcester.
| Attempted invasion of Robert. Sieges of Tunbridge, Pevensey, and Rochester.
| June | Return of Rhys; Gruffydd and the wikings harry Rhuddlan.
| Bishop William at the King’s court.
| Henry, now Count of the Côtentin, comes to England for his mother’s lands.
| July 3 | Death of Robert of Rhuddlan.
| July | John of Tours consecrated to the bishopric of Somerset void by the death of Gisa.
| August-September | Henry and Robert of Bellême go back to Normandy and are imprisoned.
| Duke Robert received at Le Mans; sieges of Ballon and Saint Cenery.
| Henry is released and restored to his county in the course of the autumn.
| September 6 | Agreement between Bishop William and the Counts.
| September 25 | Death of Bishop Geoffrey of Chichester.
| November 2 | Bishop William before the assembly at Salisbury.
| November 14 | Durham castle surrendered to the King.
| after 26 | Bishop William crosses to Normandy.
| November ? | Grant of the abbey of Bath to Bishop John; the bishopric of Somerset removed thither.
| The priory of Blyth founded in the course of the year by Roger of Bully.
1089 | May 24 | Death of Lanfranc.
1090 | April 21 | Easter assembly at Winchester; war declared against Normandy.
| A large part of eastern Normandy won by William without crossing the sea.
| Maine revolts from Robert; reign of Azo of Este; Howel imprisoned by Helias and visits England.
| June 28 | Howel returns to Le Mans.
| Intrigues of Conan at Rouen.
| November 3 | Rouen secured to Duke Robert; death of Conan.
| War of Evreux and Conches; peace between them.
| Anselm visits England for the first time as abbot in the course of the year.
| December 25 | Christmas assembly at Winchester.
1091 | -January 6
| January | Siege of Courcy.
| February | Helias buys the county of Maine from Hugh.
| The King crosses to Normandy.
| Treaty of Caen.
| February | William and Robert besiege Henry at Saint Michael’s Mount.
| May | Malcolm invades Northumberland and is driven back.
| August | William, Robert, and Henry go back to England. March towards Scotland.
| September 3 | Bishop William restored to his bishopric.
| September 29 | Loss of ships.
| Treaty with Malcolm.
| October 15 | Fall of the tower at Winchcombe.
| October 17 | Great wind in London.
| Death of Cedivor; victory of Rhys son of Tewdwr over Gruffydd son of Meredydd in the course of the year.

In the course of the year come the death of William Bishop of Thetford, the consecration of his successor Herbert Losinga, who also buys the abbey of New Minster for his father, and the consecration of Ralph Luffa Bishop of Chichester.

1092 | Fire in London.
| March 28 | Consecration of the church of Salisbury.
| April 10 | The tower blown down.
| May 6 | Death of Bishop Remigius; the church of Lincoln remains unconsecrated.
| William’s conquest and colonization of Carlisle.
| Marriage of Philip and Bertrada.
| September 8 | Anselm comes to England; his reception at Canterbury; his first interview with the King.
| Anselm helps Earl Hugh in his changes at Chester.
| December 25 | Christmas assembly; discussion of the vacancy of the archbishopric.
1093 | -January 6
| February | William refuses leave to Anselm to go back to Normandy.
| February 3 | Death of Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances; Ralph succeeds.
Lent, March 2 | Sickness of the King; his repentance and proclamation; he grants the see of Lincoln to Robert Bloet.
| March 6 | The King names Anselm to the archbishopric; his first installation.
| April 17 | Easter assembly at Winchester; the King recalls his reforms.
| Scottish embassy at Winchester; Malcolm summoned to appear in the King’s court.
| April 17–24 | Defeat and death of Rhys at Brecknock.
| April 30 | Cadwgan harries Dyfed.
| July 1 | The Normans enter Ceredigion and Dyfed.
| Advance of the Earls in North Wales; seeming conquest of all Wales.
| August 11 | Malcolm lays a foundation-stone at Durham.
| August 24 | Malcolm at Gloucester; William refuses to see him.
| Questions between the King and Anselm; his investiture.
| Intrigues of William of Eu; dealings of William with the Counts of Flanders.
| September 25 | Enthronement of Anselm.
| October 4–13 | Death of Robert the Frisian.
| October 17 | Translation of Saint Julian at Le Mans.
| November 13 | Death of Malcolm at Alnwick.
| November 17 | Death of Margaret.
| Donald King of Scots; driving out of Margaret’s children.
| December 4 | Consecration of Anselm.
| Death of Abbot Paul of Saint Alban’s.
| Henry received at Domfront and wins back the Côtentin.
| December 25 | Christmas assembly at Gloucester.
1094 | -January 6
| Challenge received from Robert; Duncan claims the Scottish crown and receives it from William.
| Contributions for the Norman war; Anselm’s gift refused.
| February 2 | Assembly at Hastings.
| February 11 | Consecration of the church of Battle.
| February 12 | Robert Bloet consecrated Bishop of Lincoln.
| Bishop Herbert of Thetford deprived of his bishopric.
| February 22 | Anselm’s Lenten sermon; he rebukes the King.
| March 19 | William crosses to Normandy.
| Campaign of Argentan, Bures, &c.; the French king bought off.
| May | The foreigners driven out of Scotland.
| October 31 | Henry and Earl Hugh summoned to Eu; they sail to Southampton.
| November | Duncan killed; Donald’s second reign in Scotland.
| December 28 | The King goes back to England.
| Deaths of Roger of Beaumont, Roger of Montgomery, and Hugh of Grantmesnil, in the course of the year.

In the course of the year the Welsh revolt under Cadwgan and recover the greater part of the country; Pembroke castle holds out.

1095 | January 18 | Death of Wulfstan.
| February 9 | Henry goes to Normandy.
| February | Interview of William and Anselm at Gillingham.
| March 1–7 | Council of Piacenza.
| March 11–14 | Assembly at Rockingham.
| Gerard and William of Warelwast sent to Pope Urban.
| March 25 | Assembly at Winchester; Earl Robert of Mowbray summoned, but does not appear.
| April 10 | Urban at Cremona; Cardinal Walter sent to England.
| May 13 | Assembly at Windsor; Anselm and William reconciled; Earl Robert fails to appear.
| June 10 | Anselm receives the pallium at Canterbury.
| June 26 | Death of Bishop Robert of Hereford.
| April 30 | Translation of Saint Eadmund.
| The King’s northern march; Anselm’s command in Kent.
| July-Sept. | Taking of Newcastle and Tynemouth; siege of Bamburgh.
| Michaelmas | Montgomery taken by the Welsh; the King marches against them.
| November 1 | The King reaches Snowdon; ill-success of the campaign.
| November 18 | Council of Clermont.
| Pope Urban at Le Mans.
| Robert of Mowbray taken at Tynemouth; surrender of Bamburgh.
| December 25 | Christmas assembly at Windsor.
1096 | -January6
| January 1 | Death of Bishop William.
| January 13 | The assembly adjourned to Salisbury; sentences of William of Eu, William of Alderi, and others.
| Imprisonment of Robert of Mowbray.
| Synod of Rouen; confirmation of the Truce of God.
| Mission of Abbot Geronto.
| Easter, April 13 | He is suspended by the Pope’s nephew.
| Normandy pledged to William.
| June 8 | Consecration of Bishop Gerard of Hereford and Samson of Worcester.
| August | William takes possession of Normandy.
| Helias takes the cross; mutual defiance between him and William.
| September | Duke Robert, Bishop Odo, and others go to the crusade.
| The King spends the winter in Normandy.

In the course of the year the Welsh take Rhyd-y-gors; Gwent and Brecknock revolt; Pembroke is besieged, but holds out; Gisors is fortified by Pagan Theobald.

1097 | February | Odo dies at Palermo.
| April 4 | William comes back to England.
| Assembly at Windsor.
| The King’s campaign in Wales; seeming conquest of the country.
| The King complains of Anselm’s knights.
| May 14 | Whitsun assembly; the charge against Anselm dropped; he asks leave to go to Rome, but is refused.
| Revolt of Cadwgan in Wales.
| June-August | The King’s last campaign in Wales; its ill-success.
| July 24 | Death of Howel; Hildebert Bishop of Le Mans.
| August | Assembly; an expedition against Donald decreed; Anselm’s request again refused.

September

The two Eadgars march to Scotland; exploits of Robert son of Godwine; Donald defeated and blinded; the younger Eadgar King of Scots.

| October 14 | Assembly at Winchester; Anselm allowed to go, but his temporalities to be seized; his parting with the King.
| Anselm leaves England.
| William demands the French Vexin.
| November | He crosses to Normandy for the war with France and Maine. Flambard and Walkelin joint regents.
| Nov. 1097-Sept. 1098. | French war; Lewis and William; fortification of Gisors by Robert of Bellême.
| December 19 | Death of Abbot Baldwin of Saint Eadmund’s.
| December 25 | The King demands money of Walkelin.
1098 | January 3 | Death of Walkelin.
| January | Beginning of the war of Maine; castles occupied by Robert of Bellême.
| Victories of Helias.
| April 28 | Helias taken prisoner.
| May 5 | Fulk Rechin at Le Mans.
| June | The King invades Maine; he retreats from Le Mans.
| July 20 | William at Ballon.
| August Convention between Helias and Fulk.
| William enters Le Mans.
| Helias set free; he strengthens himself in his southern castles.
| September 27 | William’s march against France.
| Attacks on Pontoise, Chaumont, and other castles.
| Coming of William of Aquitaine; attacks on the Montfort castles; failure of the two Williams.
| October 1 | Council of Bari; Anselm pleads for William.
| In the course of the year the Welsh withdraw to Anglesey.
| The Earls Hugh in Anglesey.
| Expedition of Magnus of Norway; death of Earl Hugh of Shrewsbury at Aberlleiniog.
| Establishment of Robert of Bellême in England; he buys his brother’s earldom.
| His works at Bridgenorth.
| He receives the estates of Roger of Bully.
| Christmas | The King spends the winter in Normandy; truce with France.
1099 | Mission of William of Warelwast to Rome; he wins over Urban.
| April 10 | The King in England; Easter assembly.
| April 12 | Council of Lateran; William’s excommunication delayed.
| Anselm leaves Rome for Lyons.
| April | Movements of Helias in southern Maine.
| May 19 | Whitsun assembly in the new hall at Westminster; the bishopric of Durham granted to Randolf Flambard.
| June 3 | Consecration of Flambard.
| June-July | Helios recovers Le Mans; the King’s garrisons hold out in the castles; burning of the city.
| The news brought to William; his ride and voyage.
| Helias leaves Le Mans and strengthens himself at Château-du-Loir.
| William passes through Le Mans to southern Maine.
| His failure before Mayet.
| He enters Le Mans.
| July 5 | Taking of Jerusalem; exploits of Duke Robert.
| July 12 | Duke Robert refuses the crown of Jerusalem; Geoffrey chosen King.
| July 19 | Death of Pope Urban the Second.
| August 12 | Battle of Ascalon.
| August 13 | Paschal the Second elected Pope.
| September | The King returns to England.
| November 3 | The great tide in the Thames.
| December 3 | Death of Bishop Osmund of Salisbury.
| Dec. 25-Jan. 6, 1100 | Christmas assembly at Gloucester.

In the course of the year Gruffydd and Cadwgan return, and Anglesey and Ceredigion are recovered by the Welsh. Eadgar goes on the crusade. Affairs of Robert son of Godwine in Scotland.

1100 | April 1 | Easter assembly at Winchester.
| May 20 | Whitsun assembly at Westminster.
| Great schemes of William Rufus.
| May | Death of Richard son of Duke Robert in the New Forest.
| June-July | Preparations for war.
| July 13 | Consecration of Gloucester abbey.
| August 1 | Abbot Fulchered’s sermon at Gloucester.
| August 2 | Death of William Rufus.
| August 3 | Burial of William Rufus; Henry elected King; he grants the bishopric of Winchester to William Giffard.
| August 5 | Coronation of Henry; his charter; he fills the vacant abbeys.
| He imprisons Flambard, and asks Anselm to come back.
| Helias recovers Le Mans; the castle holds out.
| September | Duke Robert comes back to Normandy.
| War between Henry and Robert.
| September 23 | Anselm comes back to England.
| Meeting of Anselm and Henry; question of homage and investiture; truce till Easter; mission to the Pope.
| November | Helias recovers the castle.
| November 11 | Marriage of Henry and Matilda.
| November 18 | Death of Archbishop Thomas of York.
| Empty legation of Guy of Vienne.
| Plots in England on behalf of Robert.
| December 25 | Christmas assembly at Westminster.
1101 | -January 6
| Escape of Flambard to Normandy; he stirs up Robert to action.
| April 21 | Easter assembly at Winchester; the question with Anselm again adjourned.
| Growth of the conspiracy.
| June 9 | Whitsun assembly; mediation of Anselm; renewed promise of good laws.
| July | Robert’s fleet at Tréport; the English fleet sent against him; some of the crews join him.
| Henry’s preparations at Pevensey.
| July 20 | Robert lands at Portchester; he declines to attack Winchester.
| The armies meet at Alton; conference of Henry and Robert; the treaty of 1101.
| Michaelmas | Robert goes back to Normandy.
| Henry’s rewards and punishments; banishment of Ivo of Grantmesnil and others.
| Robert of Meulan Earl of Leicester.
| December 25 | Christmas assembly at Westminster.
1102 | -January 6
| April 6 | Easter assembly at Winchester; Robert of Bellême summoned, but does not appear.
| War against Robert of Bellême in England and Normandy.
| Failure of Duke Robert’s troops at Vignats.
| Surrender of Arundel to Henry.
| Surrender of Tickhill.
| Autumn | Henry’s Shropshire campaign. Siege of Bridgenorth.
| The King wins over Jorwerth and the Welsh.
| Dealings of Robert of Bellême with Murtagh and Magnus.
| Surrender of Bridgenorth.
| The King’s march to Shrewsbury.
| Surrender of Shrewsbury and banishment of Robert of Bellême and his brothers.
1103 | | Death of Magnus.
| Jorwerth tried at Shrewsbury and imprisoned.
1104 | | Banishment of William of Mortain.
1106 | | Battle of Tinchebrai.
1107 | | Compromise with Anselm.

ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS.

VOL. I.

p. 33, l. 17, dele “the father of one of the men who had crossed the sea to trouble England.” Robert of Bellême had not come yet; see p. 56.

p. 37, note 3. The comparison of Bristol and Brindisi is a good deal exaggerated; but a certain measure of likeness may be seen.

p. 94, l. 18, dele “of the same kind.” See the distinction drawn in p. 604.

p. 96, note 2, for “abjuvare” read “abjurare.”

p. 133, note. See vol. ii. p. 330.

p. 180, note. I do not know how “Esparlon”—Épernon—comes to be reckoned among the possessions of Robert of Bellême. We shall find it in vol. ii. p. 251 in the hands of the French house of Montfort.

p. 183, l. 4 from bottom, for “Rotrou” read “Geoffrey.”

p. 184, note 1. See vol. ii. p. 396.

p. 214, side-note, for “William of Geroy” read “William son of Geroy.”

p. 217, l. 13, for “uncle” read “brother.”

p. 238, note 3, for “Aunde” read “Aumale.”

p. 243, note 2. I really ought to have mentioned the wonderful forms of torture which the man of Belial inflicted on his lord and his other prisoners (Ord. Vit. 705 A, B); “Per tres menses in castro Brehervallo eos in carcere strinxit, et multotiens, dum nimia hiems sæviret, in solis camisiis aqua largiter humectatis in fenestra sublimis aulæ Boreæ vel Circio exposuit, donec tota vestis circa corpus vinctorum in uno gelu diriguit.”

p. 247, l. 3. I suppose that Walter of Rouen, son of Ansgar, who appears high in the King’s confidence in vol. ii. pp. 241, 370, is a brother of this William. This is worth noting, as showing how Rufus picked out men likely to serve his purpose from all quarters.

p. 251, l. 5. See below, p. 461, note 3. It would be worth enquiring whether this name Champ de Mars is old or new. There is a Campus Martius at Autun, whose name is certainly at least mediæval; but, as it is within the Roman walls, it can hardly date from the first days of Augustodunum. It divides the upper and lower city, quite another position from that at Rouen.

p. 298, l. 6. Orderic is hardly fair to Edgar when he says (778 B), “Hic corpore speciosus, lingua disertus, liberalis et generosus, utpote Edwardi regis Hunorum filius [see 701 D and N. C. vol. ii. p. 672], sed dextera segnis erat, ducemque sibi coævum et quasi collectaneum fratrem diligebat.”

p. 302, note 1, for “Witan” read “Gemót.”

p. 307, l. 6. Something of the kind was actually done somewhat later; see below, p. 435. But that was a challenge through ambassadors.

p. 326, note. In strictness Anselm did not appeal to the Pope at all. See below, p. 598.

p. 335, l. 15, for “unrighteousness” read “unrighteousnesses.”

p. 353, l. 6 from bottom. I ought not to have forgotten the character of Ralph Luffa given by William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 205); “Radulfus proceritate corporis insignis, sed et animi efficacia famosus, qui contuitu sacerdotalis officii Willelmo juniori in faciem pro Anselmo archiepiscopo, quem immerito exagitabat, restiterit. Cumque ille, conscientia potestatis elatus, minas ingeminaret, nihil alter reveritus baculum protendit, annulum exuit, ut, si vellet, acciperet. Nec vero vel tunc vel postea austeritatem inflecteret si assertorem haberet. Sed quia discessu suo spem ejus et ceterorum, si qui boni essent, Anselmus enervavit, et tunc causa decidit et postmodum damno succubuit.” This seems at first sight to stand in contradiction to Eadmer’s picture of all the bishops, except possibly Gundulf (see below, pp. 497, 513, 516), forsaking and renouncing Anselm. We can understand that Eadmer would be inclined to make the worst of the bishops as a body, while William of Malmesbury would be inclined to make the best of the particular bishop of whom he was writing. This is one of the passages in which William of Malmesbury in his second edition watered down the vigorous language of the first. As he first wrote it, the King appeared as “leo ferocissimus Willelmus dico minor.” On second thoughts the comparison with the wild beast was left out.

p. 355, l. 15. I have sent Herbert to Rome at this time, in order to bring him back for the meeting at Hastings in 1094. See below, pp. 429, 448. I find that some difficulty has arisen on account of the words of Eadmer (see p. 429), which have been taken as implying that Herbert joined in the consecration of Anselm. Dr. Stubbs puts him on the list in the Registrum. But surely the words might be used if all the bishops came who were in England and able to come.

p. 355, side-note, for “1091–1093” read “1091–1098.” See vol. ii. p. 267.

p. 375, note 6, for “perversitatam” read “perversitatem.”

p. 385, l. 2, for “undoubtedly” read “by himself.”

p. 408, l. 15. There must however have been some exceptions. See the Additions and Corrections to vol. ii. p. 508.

p. 450, l. 3 from bottom. Yet the guarantors, even on William’s own side, held him to be in the wrong. See p. 461.

p. 469, note 1. The reference is to the passage of Orderic, quoted in vol. ii. p. 537. But it is hard to understand how Henry can have been at war with William in 1094. Yet there is the passage from Sigebert quoted in p. 471, note 3, where the date must be wrong, but which seems to hang together both with this passage of Orderic and with the suspicions on the Kings part implied in the narrative in the Chronicle.

p. 469, l. 10, and note 3, for “son” read “grandson.”

p. 485, l. 3, for “of” read “to.”

p. 492, l. 2, put semicolon after “within.”

p. 506, note 2. This passage is very singular, especially the words “nec ipsum advertere posse putaverunt.” On this last point the bishops seem to have been right, as Anselm himself nowhere puts forward any such claim to exemption.

p. 516, note 3. Besides the difficulty about Gundulf, there is the further difficulty about Ralph of Chichester, who, as we have just seen, is said by William of Malmesbury to have taken Anselm’s side. He at least stood in no such special position to the Archbishop as the Bishop of Rochester did.

p. 522, side-note, for “May” read “March.”

p. 546, l. 12. Worthiest certainly when any actual work was to be done; but the idle sojourn at Laodikeia (see p. 565) makes the general epithet too strong.

p. 551, l. 10, for “Rotrou” read “Geoffrey.”

p. 571, l. 3. I believe there is no authority for this English form, “Evermouth,” though it is not unlikely that “Ebremou” may, like so many other names in Normandy, really be a corruption of some such Teutonic name. The place is in Eastern Normandy, in the present department of Lower Seine.

p. 579, note 1. This is that singular use of the words “Christianitas” and the like which we find in such phrases as “Courts Christian” and “Deanery of Christianity.” We must not think of such a “subventio Christianitatis” as the Spanish Bishop sought for at the hands of Anselm. See vol. ii. p. 582.

p. 586, l. 25. For “three” read “four,” and add the name of Robert Bloet. He is the Robert referred to in the next page.

p. 604, note 1. The right to be tried is confined to the Peers; other persons of course may be so tried, if they are impeached by the Commons.

p. 609, note 1. When I was at Benevento this year (1880), I had hoped to get a sight of the cope, as the treasury of the metropolitan church is rich in vestments. But they are all of much later date, and I could hear nothing of the relic which I sought for.

p. 614, last line. See more in vol. ii. p. 403.

THE REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION.

Character of the reign of William Rufus.

THE reign of the second Norman king is a period of English history which may well claim a more special and minute examination than could be given to it when it took its place merely as one of the later stages in the history of the Norman Conquest, after the great work of the Conquest itself was done. There is indeed a point of view in which the first years of the reign of William the Red may be looked on as something more than one of the later stages of the Conquest. The Norman Conquest in one sense completed, in another undone. They may be looked on, almost at pleasure, either as the last stage of the Conquest or as the reversal of the Conquest. We may give either name to a struggle in which a Norman king, the son of the Norman Conqueror, was established on the English throne by warfare which, simply as warfare, was a distinct victory won by Englishmen over Normans on English soil. The truest aspect of that warfare was that the Norman Conquest of England was completed by English hands. But, in so saying, we must understand by the Norman Conquest of England all that is implied in that name to its fullest extent. When Englishmen, by armed support of a Norman king, accepted the fact of the Norman Conquest, they in some measure changed its nature. In the act of completing the Conquest, they in some sort undid it. If we hold that the end of the Conquest came in the days of Rufus, in the days of Feudal developement under Rufus and Flambard.Rufus also came the beginnings of the later effects of the Conquest. The reign of William the Red, the administration of Randolf Flambard, was, above all others, the time when the feudal side, so to speak, of the Conquest put on a systematic shape. The King and his minister put into regular working, if they did not write down in a regular code, those usages which under the Conqueror were still merely tendencies irregularly at work, but which, at the accession of Henry the First, had already grown into abuses which needed redress. Growth of anti-feudal tendencies.But, on the other hand, it was equally the time when the anti-feudal tendencies of the Conquest, the causes and the effects of the great law of Salisbury,[1] showed how firmly they had taken root. The reign of Rufus laid down the two principles, that, in the kingdom of England, no man should be stronger than the king,[2] but that the king should hold his strength only by making himself the head of the state and of the people. As a stage then in the history of the Conquest and its results, as a stage in the general constitutional history of England, the thirteen years of the reign of Rufus form a period of the highest interest and importance.

Extension of the power of England at home. But those years are a time of no less interest and importance, if we look at them with regard to the general position of England in the world. Within our own island, the reign of William the Red was marked by a great practical extension of the power of England on the Welsh marches. Wales;On another side it was marked yet more distinctly by an enlargement of the kingdom itself, by the settlement of the north-western frontier, by the winning for England of a new land, and by the restoration of a fallen city as the bulwark of the new Carlisle.boundary. What the daughter of Ælfred was at Chester, the son of the Conqueror was at Carlisle. Beyond the sea, we mark the beginnings of a state of things which has ceased only within our own memories. Beginning of rivalry between England and France.
Wealth of England.The rivalry between France and Normandy grows, now that England is ruled by Norman kings, into a rivalry between France and England. In will, if not in deed, the reign of Rufus forestalls the reigns of Edward the Third and Henry the Fifth. It sets England before us in a character which she kept through so many ages, the character of the wealthy land which could work with gold as well as with steel, the land whence subsidies might be looked for to flow into the less well-filled coffers of the princes of the mainland.Change in the European position of England. In the reign of Rufus we see England holding an European position wholly different from what she had held in earlier days. She passes in some sort from the world of the North into the world of the West. That change was the work of the Conqueror; but it is under his son that we see its full nature and meaning. The new place which England now holds is seen to be one which came to her wholly through her connexion with Normandy; it is no less seen to be one which she has learned to hold in her own name and by her own strength.

And, if we pass from the domain of political history into the domain of personal character and personal incident, we shall find few periods of the same length richer in both.Personal character of William Rufus. The character of William Rufus himself, repulsive as from many points it is, is yet a strange and instructive study of human nature. The mere fact that no prince ever made a deeper personal impression on the minds of the men of his own age, the crowd of personal anecdotes and personal sayings which, whether true or false, bear witness to the depth of that impression, all invite us to a nearer study of the man of whom those who lived in his own day found so much to tell, and so much which at first sight seems strange and contradictory. William Rufus stands before us as the first representative of a new ideal, a new standard. Our earlier experiences, English and Norman, have hardly prepared us for the special place taken by the king who has some claim to rank as the first distinctly recorded example of the new character of knight and gentleman. In the company of the Red King we are introduced to a new line of thought, a new way of looking at things, of which in an earlier generation we see hardly stronger signs in Normandy than we see in England. For good and for evil, if William Rufus bears the mark of his age, he also leaves his mark on his age. His own marked personality in some sort entitles him to be surrounded, to be withstood, by men whose personality is also clearly marked. His companions and adversaries.A circle of well-defined portraits, friends and enemies, ministers and rivals, gathers around him. Among them two forms stand out before all.Anselm and Helias. The holy Anselm at home, the valiant Helias beyond the sea, are the men with whom Rufus has to strive. And the saint of Aosta, the hero of La Flèche, are men who of themselves are enough to draw our thoughts to the times and the lands in which they lived. Each, in his own widely different way, stands forth as the representative of right in the face of a power of evil which we still feel to be not wholly evil. All light is not put out, all better feelings are not trampled out of being, when evil stands in any way abashed before the presence of good.

Rufus and England. Looked at simply as a tale, the tale of Rufus and Anselm, the tale of Rufus and Helias, is worth the telling. But better worth telling still is the tale of Rufus and England.The last warfare of Normans and English. The struggle which kept the crown for Rufus, the last armed struggle between Englishmen and Normans on English ground, the fight of Pevensey and the siege of Rochester, form a stirring portion of our annals, a portion whose interest yields only to that of a few great days like the days of Senlac and of Lewes. But the really great tale is after all that which is more silent and hidden. Results of the struggle.This was above all things the time when the Norman Conquest took root, as something which at once established the Norman power in England, and which ruled that the Norman power should step by step change into an English power. The great fact of Rufus’ day is that Englishmen won the crown of England for a Norman king in fight against rebellious Normans.The Conquest accepted and modified. On that day the fact of the Conquest was fully acknowledged; it became something which, as to its immediate outward effects, there was no longer any thought of undoing. The house of the Conqueror was to be the royal house; there were to be no more revolts on behalf of the heir of Cerdic, no more messages sent to invite the heir of Cnut. And with the kingship of the Norman all was accepted which was immediately implied in the kingship of the Norman.The Norman kingship becomes English. But on that day it was further ruled that the kingship of the Norman was to change into an English kingship. It became such in some sort even under Rufus himself, when the King of England went forth to subdue Normandy, to threaten France, to dream at least, as a link between Civilis and Buonaparte, of an empire of the Gauls.[3] Effects of the French War.The success of the attempt, the accomplishment of the dream, would have been the very overthrow of English nationality; the mere attempt, the mere dream, helped, if not to strengthen English nationality, at least to strengthen the national position of England. But these years helped too, in a more silent way, if not to change the Norman rule at home into an English rule, at least to make things ready for the coming of the king who was really to do the work. It was perhaps in the long run not the least gain of the reign of William the Red that it left for Henry the Clerk, not only much to do, but also something directly to undo.

Scheme of the work.In a former volume we traced the history of the Conqueror in great detail to his death-bed and his burial. In another volume we followed, with a more hasty course, the main features of the reign of William Rufus, looked at specially as bearing on the history of the Conquest and the mutual relations of English and Normans. We will now again take up the thread of our detailed story at the bed-side of the dying Conqueror, and thence trace the history of his successor, from his first nomination by his father’s dying voice to his unhallowed burial in the Old Minster of Winchester. And thence, though the tale of Rufus himself is over, it may be well to carry on the tale of England through the struggle which ruled for the second time that England should not be the realm of the Conqueror’s eldest son, and, as such, an appendage to his Norman duchy. The accession of Henry is essentially a part of the same tale as the accession of Rufus. The points of likeness in the two stories are striking indeed, reaching in some cases almost to a repetition of the same events. But the points of unlikeness are yet more striking and instructive. And it is from them that we learn how much the reign of Rufus had done alike towards completing the Norman Conquest and towards undoing it.

CHAPTER II.

THE EARLY DAYS OF WILLIAM RUFUS.[4]
1087–1090.

THE Character of the accession of Rufus.way by which the second William became fully established on the throne of his father has some peculiarities of its own, which distinguish it from the accessions of most English kings, earlier and later. The only claim of William Rufus to the crown was a nomination by his father which we are told that his father hardly ventured to make.No formal election. Of election by any assembly, great or small, we see no trace. Yet the new king is crowned, and he receives the nationalHis general acceptance. submission at his crowning, with the fullest outward national consent, with no visible opposition from any quarter, and, as events proved, with the hearty good will of the native English part of his subjects. Yet the King is hardly established in his kingdom before he has to fight for his crown. William Rufus had, like his father, to win the kingdom of England by war after he was already its crowned king. But, as regards those against whom he fought and those at whose head he fought, his position was the exact reverse of that of his father. Nominated by his father, elected, one might say, by Lanfranc, crowned with no man gainsaying him, William Rufus was at last really established in the royal power by the act of the conquered English. It was they who won the crown for the son of their Conqueror in fight against his father’s nearest kinsmen and most cherished comrades.

§ 1. The Coronation and Acknowledgement of William Rufus.
September, 1087.

One prominent aspect of the reign of William Rufus sets him before us as the enemy, almost the persecutor, of the Church in his realm, as the special adversary of the ecclesiastical power when the ecclesiastical power was represented by one of the truest of saints. And yet there have been few kings whose accession to the throne was in so special a way the act of the ecclesiastical power. William Rufus was made king by Lanfranc in a somewhat fuller sense than that in which every king of those times might be said to be made king by the prelate who poured the consecrating oil upon his head. Nomination by the last king, in the form of recommendation to the electors, had always been taken into account when the people of England came together to set a new king over them. The nomination of Eadward had formed a part, though the smallest part, of the right of Harold to become the chief of his own people.[5] An alleged nomination by Eadward formed the only plausible part of the claim by which William asserted his right to thrust himself upon a people of strangers. And now a nomination by William himself was the only right by which his second surviving son claimed to succeed to the crown which he had won. Modern notions of hereditary right would have handed over England as well as Normandy to the eldest son of the last king. English feeling at the time would doubtless, if a formal choice had to be made among the sons of the Conqueror of England, have spoken for his youngest son. Of all the three Henry alone was a true Ætheling; he alone had any right to the name of Englishman; he alone was the son of a crowned king and a man born in the land.[6] But the last wish of William the Great was that his island crown should pass to William the Red. He had not, as our fullest narrative tells us, dared to make any formal nomination to a kingdom which he had in his last days found out to be his only by wrong. He had not dared to name William as his successor; he left the kingdom in the hands of God; he only hoped that the will of God might be that William should reign, and should reign well and happily.[7] And as the best means of finding out whether the will of God were so, he left the actual decision to the highest and wisest of God’s ministers in his kingdom. He gave no orders for the coronation of Rufus; he simply prayed Lanfranc to crown him, if the Primate deemed such an act a rightful one.[8] As far as the will of the dying king went, one alone of the Witan of England, the first certainly among them alike in rank and in renown, was bidden to make the choice of the next sovereign on behalf of the whole kingdom.

The special agency of Lanfranc in the promotion of William Rufus is noticed by all the writers who give any detailed account of his accession.[9] Nor was it likely that, when the Archbishop was to be the one elector, the claims of the candidate should be refused. It would seem indeed as if Lanfranc doubted for a moment whether he ought to take upon himself the responsibility of the choice.[10] But everything must have helped to make him ready to carry out the wishes of his late master. That they were the Conqueror’s last wishes was no small matter, and Lanfranc had every personal reason to incline him the same way. To make William Rufus king was to promote the man who stood in a special relation to himself, who had been in some sort his pupil, and whom he had himself girded with the belt of knighthood.[11] And it really seems as if there was no other elector besides Lanfranc himself. For once in our history we read of a king succeeding without any formal election, without any meeting of the Witan before the coronation. Within three weeks of the death of the first William, the second William was full king over the land. As soon as he had heard the last wishes of his father, as soon as the dying king had dictated the all-important letter which was to express those wishes to the Primate, William Rufus left the bedside of his father while the breath was still in him. He started for the haven of Touques, a spot of which we shall get a vivid picture later in our story. With him set forth the bearer of the letter, one of the great King’s chaplains, and, as some say, his Chancellor. This was Robert Bloet, he who was presently to succeed Remigius of Fécamp in his newly-placed throne on the hill of Lincoln.[12] Before they had left Norman ground, the news came that all was over, that England had no longer a king.[13] William crossed with all speed, seemingly to Southampton, and found in England no rival, English or Norman. He indeed brought with him two men, either of whom, if Englishmen had still heart enough to dream of a king of their own blood, might have been his rival. Among the captives whom the Conqueror set free on his death-bed were two men who represented the mightiest of the fallen houses of conquered England. These were Morkere the son of Ælfgar, once the chosen Earl of the Northumbrians, and Wulfnoth, the youngest son of Godwine and brother[14]

of Harold.Wulf and Duncan set free by Robert. Two other captives of royal blood, Duncan the son of Malcolm and Ingebiorg, so long a hostage for his father’s doubtful faith to his over-lord,[15] and Wulf the son of Harold and Ealdgyth, the babe who had been taken when Chester fell,[16] were set free at the same time. Duncan and Wulf were in the power of Robert. They in no way threatened his possession of Normandy, and Robert, with all his faults, did not lack generous feeling. They were knighted and set free.[17]

Of Wulf we hear no more; Duncan lived to sit for a moment on the throne of his father. The fate of their fellow-sufferers was harsher. Morkere and Wulfnoth had come, by what means we know not, into the power of William. As Morkere had once crossed the sea with the father,[18] he now came back with the son. But their day of freedom was short. The son of Godwine and the grandson of Leofric might either of them be dangerous to the son of William. They therefore tasted the air of freedom only for a few days. William, acting as already king, went to his capital at Winchester, and there thrust the delivered captives once more into the house of bondage.[19] Of Morkere we hear no more; we must suppose that the rest of his days, few or many, were spent in this renewed imprisonment. Wulfnoth seems to have been released at some later time, to enter religion, and to be made the subject of the praises of a Norman poet.[20]

Such was the first act of authority done by the new ruler. Having thus disposed of the men whom he seems to have dreaded, William found no opposition made to his succession. But it was important for him to take possession without delay. The time, September, was not one of the usual seasons for a general assembly of the kingdom, and William could not afford to wait for the next great festival of Christmas. No native English competitor was likely to appear; but he must at least make himself safe against any possible attempts on the part of his brothers beyond the sea. From Winchester he hastened to the presence of Lanfranc—seemingly at Canterbury; as the story is told us, it seems to be taken for granted that it rested with the Primate to give or to refuse the crown.[21] Whether the younger William himself brought the news of the death of the elder is not quite clear; but we are not surprised to hear from an eye-witness that the first feeling of Lanfranc was one of overwhelming grief at the loss of the king who was dead, a king who, if he had been to him a master, had also been in so many things a friend and a fellow-worker.[22] Rufus is crowned at Westminster, September 26, 1087. The formal consecration of his successor was not long delayed; the new king was solemnly crowned and anointed by the hands of Lanfranc in the minster of Saint Peter, on Sunday the feast of the saints Cosmas and Damian. So the day is marked by a scholar who had specially explored the antiquities of Rome; Englishmen, who knew less of saints whose holy place was by the Roman forum, were content to mark it by its relation to the great festival three days later, or even by the mere day of the month.[23] On that day, before the altar of King Eadward’s rearing, the second Norman lord of England took the oaths which bound an English king to the English people. And, besides the prescribed oaths to do justice and mercy and to defend the rights of the Church, Lanfranc is said to have bound the new king by a special engagement to follow his own counsel in all things.[24] William Rufus was thus king, and, if anything had been lacking in the way of regular election before his crowning, it was fully made up by the universal and seemingly zealous acceptance of him at his crowning. “All the men on England to him bowed and to him oaths swore.”[25] The crown which had passed to Eadward from a long line of kingly forefathers, the crown which Harold had worn by the free gift of the English people, the crown which the first William had won by his sword and had kept by his wisdom, now passed to the second of his name and house. And it passed, to all appearance, with the perfect good will of all the dwellers in the land, conquerors and conquered alike. William the Second, William the Younger, William the Red, took his place on the seat of the great Conqueror without a blow being struck or a dog moving his tongue against him.

The first act of the uncrowned candidate for the kingly office had been one of harshness—harshness which was perhaps politic in the son, but which trod under foot the last wishes of a repentant father. The first act of the crowned King was one which might give good hopes for the reign which was beginning, and which certainly carried out his father’s wishes to the letter. From Westminster William Rufus went again to Winchester, this time not to make fast the bars of his father’s prison-house, but to throw open the stores of his father’s treasury.Wealth of the treasury at Winchester. Our native Chronicler waxes eloquent on the boundless wealth of all kinds, far beyond the powers of any man to tell of, which had been gathered together in the Conqueror’s hoard during his one and twenty years of kingship. The Chronicler had, as we must remember, himself lived in William’s court, and we may believe that his own eyes had looked on the store of gold and silver, of vessels and robes and gems and other costly things, which it was beyond the skill of man to set forth.[26] These were the spoils of England, and from them were made the gifts which, in the belief of those days, were to win repose in the other world for the soul of her despoiler.Gifts to churches. Every minster in England received, some six marks of gold, some ten, besides gifts of every kind of ecclesiastical ornament and utensil, rich with precious metals and precious stones, among which books for the use of divine service was not forgotten.[27] Gifts to Battle Abbey. And, above all, the special foundation of his father, the Abbey of the Battle, received choicer gifts than any, the royal mantle of the departed King among them.[28] Every upland church, every one at all events on the royal lordships, received sixty pennies.[29] Gifts to the poor. Moreover a hundred pounds in money was sent into each shire to be given away in alms to the poor for William’s soul.[30] Such a gift might be bountiful in a small shire like Bedford, where many Englishmen still kept their own; but it would go but a little way, even after eighteen years, to undo the work of the great harrying of Yorkshire. Meanwhile Robert, already received as Duke of the Normans, was doing the same pious work among the poor and the churches of his duchy.[31] The dutiful son and the rebel were both doing their best for the welfare of their father in the other world.

The Christmas Assembly. 1087–1088. From Winchester the new King went back to Westminster, and there he held the Christmas feast and assembly. It was attended by the two archbishops and by several other bishops, among whom the saint of Worcester is specially mentioned. Odo restored to his earldom. At this meeting too appeared Odo of Bayeux, who received again from his nephew his earldom of Kent.[32] Released from his bonds by the pardon which had been so hardly wrung from the dying Conqueror,[33] he already filled the first place in the councils of the new Duke of the Normans,[34] and he hoped to win the like power over the mind of his other nephew in England. But before long events came about which showed how true had been the foresight of William the Great, when he had said that mighty evils would follow if his brother should be set free from his prison.

Unusual character of William’s accession. It is certainly something unusual in those times for a king thus to make his way to his crown by virtue, as it were, of an agreement between a dead king and a living bishop, without either the nobles or the nation at large either actively supporting or actively opposing his claim. It is clear that men of both races had very decided views about the matter; but they gave no open expression to them at the time. The discussion of the succession came after the coronation, among men who had already acknowledged the new King. It may be that all parties were taken by surprise. The accession of William Rufus had not indeed followed the death of his father with anything like the same speed with which the accession of Harold had followed the death of his brother-in-law. But then the death of Eadward had long been looked for; the succession of Harold had long been practically agreed on; above all, the Witan were actually in session when the vacancy took place. Everything therefore could be done at a moment’s notice with perfect formal regularity. Now everything, if much less sudden, was much more unlooked for. The kingdom found itself called on to acknowledge a king whom no party had chosen, but whom no party had at the moment the means, perhaps not the will, to oppose. The Normans, we may believe, would, if they had been formally asked, have preferred Robert. The English, we may be sure, would, if they had been formally asked, have, at least among Norman candidates, preferred Henry. William the only available king at the moment. And practically the choice lay among Norman candidates only, and among them Henry was the one who was practically shut out. All hopes, we may be sure, had passed away of seeking for a king either in the house of Cerdic, in the house of Godwine, or in the house which, if not the house of Cnut, was, at least by female succession, the house of his father Swegen. Of the sons of the Conqueror, Henry, the one who was at once Norman and Englishman, was young and beyond the sea. William was in England, with at least his father’s recommendation to support him. The practical question lay between William and Robert. Was William to be withstood on behalf of Robert? Comparison between William and Robert. Between William and Robert there could at the moment be little doubt in the minds of Englishmen. Their father’s policy had kept both back from any great opportunity of doing either good or evil to the conquered kingdom. But, as far as their personal characters went, Robert had as yet shown his worst side and William his best. There could be little room for doubt between the man who had fought against his father and the man who had risked his life to save his father.Political bearing of William’s accession. And, besides this, the accession of William would separate England and Normandy. England would again have, if not a king of her own blood, yet at least a king of her own. The island world would again be the island world, no longer dependent on, or mixed up with, the affairs of the world beyond the sea. The harshness which had again thrust back Morkere and Wulfnoth into prison might be passed by, as an act of necessary precaution. Morkere too might by this time be well nigh forgotten, and Wulfnoth had never been known. If a native king was not to be had, William Rufus was at the moment by no means the most unpromising among possible foreign kings.

No real choice. But in truth neither Normans nor Englishmen were in this case called on to make any real choice. Both were called on, somewhat after the manner of the sham plebiscita of modern France, to acknowledge a sovereign who was already in possession. Whatever might have been the abstract preference of the Normans for Robert or of the English for Henry, neither party felt at the moment that degree of zeal which would lead them to brave the dangers of opposition. At any rate, William Rufus was a new king, and a new king is commonly welcome. Men of both races might reasonably expect that the rule of one who had come peacefully to his crown would be less harsh than that of one who had made his entry by the sword. Employment of the treasure. It is further hinted that William partly owed his recognicitaition to his early possession of his father’s hoard, perhaps to his careful discharge of his father’s will, perhaps, even thus early in his reign, to some other discreet application of his father’s treasures.[35]

Certain it is that, from whatever cause, all men accepted Rufus with all outward cheerfulness, though perhaps without any very fervent loyalty towards him on any side. It needed the events of the next few months, it needed strong influences and strong opposing influences, to turn the Normans in England into the fierce opponents of the new King, and the native English into his zealous supporters. It needed the further course of his own actions to teach both sides how much they had lost when they passed from the rule of William the Great to that of William the Red.

§ 2. The Rebellion against William Rufus.
March-November, 1088.

The winter of the year which beheld the Conqueror’s death passed without any disturbance in the realm of his son.[36] Beginning of the rebellion. But in the spring of the next year it became plain that the general acceptance which Rufus had met with in England was sincere on the part of his English subjects only. As the native Chronicler puts it, “the land was mightily stirred and was filled with mickle treason, for all the richest Frenchmen that were in this land would betray their lord the King, and would have his brother to King, Robert that was Earl in Normandy.”[37]

The leaders in this revolt were the bishops whom the Conqueror had clothed with temporal power. Discontent of Odo. And foremost among them was his brother, the new King’s uncle, Odo Bishop of Bayeux, now again Earl of Kent; and, according to one account, already Justiciar and chief ruler in England.[38] But whatever might be his formal position, Odo soon began to be dissatisfied with the amount of authority which he practically enjoyed. He seems to have hoped to be able to rule both his nephews and all their dominions, and, in England at least, to keep the whole administration in his own hands at least as fully as he had held it before his imprisonment. In this hope he was disappointed. The Earl of Kent was not so great a man under the younger William as he had been under the elder. The chief place in the confidence of the new King was held by another man of his own order. Influence of William of Saint-Calais. This was William of Saint Carilef or Saint Calais, once Prior of the house from which he took his name, and afterwards Abbot of Saint Vincent’s without the walls of Le Mans.[39] He had succeeded the murdered Walcher in the see of Durham, and he had reformed his church according to the fashion of the time, by putting in monks instead of secular canons.[40] His place in the King’s counsel was now high indeed. “So well did the King to the Bishop that all England went after his rede and so as he would.”[41] Besides this newly born jealousy of the Kings newly chosen counsellor, Odo had a long standing hatred against the other prelate who had so long watched over the King, and whose advice the King was bound by oath to follow.[42] He bore the bitterest grudge against the Primate Lanfranc, as the inventor of that subtle distinction between the Bishop of Bayeux and the Earl of Kent which had cost the Earl five years of imprisonment.[43]

Action of Odo. Of the two personages who might thus be joined or separated at pleasure, it is the temporal chief with whom we have now to deal. March 1, 1088. Lent was now come. Of the spiritual exercises of the Bishop of Bayeux during the holy season we have no record; the Earl of Kent spent the time plotting with the chief Normans in England how the King might be killed or handed over alive to his brother.[44] Gatherings of the rebels.We have more than one vigorous report of the oratory used in these seditious gatherings. According to some accounts, they went on on both sides of the sea, and we are admitted to hear the arguments which were used both in Normandy and in England.[45] Arguments on behalf of Robert. Both agree in maintaining the claims of Robert, as at once the true successor, and the prince best fitted for their purpose. But it is on Norman ground that the necessity for an union between Normandy and England is set forth most clearly. The main object is to hinder a separation between the two kingdoms, as they are somewhat daringly called.[46] It is clear that to men who held lands in both countries it would be a gain to have only one lord instead of two; but, if we rightly understand the arguments which are put into the mouths of the speakers, it was held that, if England had again a king of her own, though it were a king of the Conqueror’s house, the work of the Conquest would be undone. The men who had won England with their blood would be brought down from their dominion in the conquered island.[47] If they have two lords, there will be no hope of pleasing both; faithfulness to the one will only lead to vengeance on the part of the other.[48]

William was young and insolent, and they owed him no duty. Robert was the eldest son; his ways were more tractable, and they had sworn to him during the life-time of his father. Let them then make a firm agreement to stand by one another, to kill or dethrone William, and to make Robert ruler of both lands.[49]

Robert, we are told, approved of the scheme, and promised that he would give them vigorous help to carry it out.[50]

These arguments of Norman speakers are given us without the names of any ringleaders. We may suspect that the real speaker, in the idea of the reporter, was no other than the Bishop of Bayeux.[51] Speech of Odo. We hear of him more distinctly on English ground, haranguing his accomplices somewhat to the same effect; only the union of the two states is not so distinctly spoken of. It may be that such a way of putting the case would not sound well in the ears of men who, if not Englishmen, were at least the chief men of England, and who might not be specially attracted by the prospect of another conquest of England, now that England was theirs. Reasons for preferring Robert to William. The chief business of the Bishop’s speech is to compare the characters of the two brothers between whom they had to choose, and further to compare the new King with the King who was gone. The speaker seems to start from the assumption that, in the interests of those to whom he spoke, it was to be wished that the ruler whom they were formally to acknowledge should be practically no ruler at all. William the Great had not been a prince to their minds; William the Red was not likely to be a prince to their minds either. Robert was just the man for their purpose. Under Robert, mild and careless, they would be able to do as they pleased; under the stern and active William they would soon find that they had a master. Comparison of the elder and younger William. The argument that follows is really the noblest tribute that could be paid to the memory of the Conqueror. It sets him before us, in a portrait drawn by one who, if a brother, was also an enemy, as a king who did justice and made peace, and who did his work without shedding of blood. It is taken for granted that the death of the great king, at whose death we are told that peaceable men wept and that robbers and fiends rejoiced,[52] was something from which Odo and men like Odo might expect to gain. But nothing would be gained, if the rod of the elder William were to pass into the hands of the younger. The little finger of the son would be found to be thicker than the loins of the father. Their release from the rule of the King who was gone would profit them nothing, if they remained subjects of one who was likely to slay where his father had merely put in bonds.[53] In this last contrast, though we may doubt whether there could have been any ground for drawing it so early in the reign of Rufus, we see that the men of the time were struck by the difference between the King whose laws forbade the judicial taking of human life and the King under whom the hangman began his work again. To pleadings like these we are told that the great mass of the Norman nobility in England hearkened; a small number only remained faithful to the King to whom they had so lately sworn their oaths. Thus, as the national Chronicler puts it, “the unrede was read.”[54]

Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances joins the rebels. As the chief devisers of the unrede we have the names of two bishops besides Odo. One name we do not wonder to find along with his. Geoffrey Bishop of Coutances was a prelate of Odo’s own stamp, one of whose doings as a wielder of the temporal sword we have heard in northern, in western, and in eastern England.[55] But we should not have expected to find as partner of their doings the very man whose high promotion had filled the heart of Odo with envy. Treason of the Bishop of Durham. It was indeed the most unkindest cut of all when the Bishop of Durham, the man in whose counsel the King most trusted, turned against the benefactor who had raised him so that all England went at his rede. What higher greatness he could have hoped to gain by treason it is hard to see. Different statements of his conduct. And it is only fair to add that in the records of his own bishopric he appears as a persecuted victim,[56] while all the writers of southern England join in special reprobation of his faithlessness. The one who speaks in our own tongue scruples not to make use of the most emphatic of all comparisons. “He would do by him”—that is, Bishop William would do by King William—“as Judas Iscariot did by our Lord.”[57] We should certainly not learn from these writers that, after all, it was the King, and not the Bishop, who struck, or tried to strike, the first blow.

It is certainly far from easy to reconcile the different accounts of this affair. At a time a little later the southern account sets Bishop William before us as one who “did all harm that he might all over the North.”[58] But at Durham it was believed that at all events a good deal of harm had been already done by the King to the Bishop; and the Bishop claims to have at an earlier time done the best of good service to the King.[59] That service must have been rendered while the Lenten conspiracy was still going on; for at no later time does the Bishop of Durham seem to have been anywhere in the south of England. His alleged services to the King. Lent, 1088. Then, according to his own story, the Bishop secured to the King the possession of Hastings, of Dover, and of London itself. We have only William of Saint-Calais’ own statement for this display of loyal vigour on his part; but, as it is a statement made in the hearing of the King and of the barons and prelates of England, though exaggeration is likely enough, the whole story can hardly be sheer invention. Bishop William claims to have kept the two southern havens in their allegiance when the King had almost lost them. His action towards London. He claims further to have quieted disturbances in London, after the city had actually revolted, by taking twelve of the chief citizens to the King’s presence.[60] Our notes of time show that the events of which the Bishop thus speaks must have happened at the latest in the very first days of March. Early movements in Kent and Sussex. March, 1088. It follows that there must have been at the least seditious movements in south-eastern England, before the time of the open revolt in the west. In short, the rebellion in Kent and Sussex must have begun very early indeed in the penitential season.

We gather from the Durham narrative that, even at this early stage, both Bishop Odo and Earl Roger were already known to the King as traitors. Bishop William’s advice to the King. We gather further that it was by the advice of the Bishop of Durham that the King was making ready for military operations against them, and that, when the Bishop was himself summoned to the array, he made answer that he would at once join with the seven knights whom he had with him—seven chief barons of the bishopric, as it would seem—and would send to Durham for more. He forsakes the King. But, instead of so doing, he left the King’s court without his leave; he took with him some of the King’s men, and so forsook the King in his need.[61] Such was afterwards the statement on the King’s side. Certain it is that, whatever the Bishop’s fault was, the royal vengeance followed speedily on it. His temporalities seized. March, 1088. Early in March, whether with or without the advice of any assembly,[62]

Rufus ordered the temporalities of the bishopric to be seized, and the Bishop himself to be arrested. The Bishop escaped to his castle at Durham, whence it would not be easy to dislodge him without a siege. Meanwhile the King’s men in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire, though they failed to seize the Bishop’s own person, took possession in the King’s name of his lands, his money, and his men. He writes to the King. From Durham the Bishop wrote to the King, setting forth his wrongs, protesting his innocence, and demanding restitution of all that had been taken from him. He goes on to use words which remind us in a strange way at once of Godwine negotiating with his royal son-in-law and of Odo in the grasp of his royal brother. He offers the services of himself and his men. He offers to make answer to any charge in the King’s court. But, like Godwine, he asks for a safe-conduct before he will come;[63] like Odo, he declares that it is not for every one to judge a bishop, and that he will make answer only according to his order.[64] On the receipt of this letter, the King at once, in the sight of the Bishop’s messenger, made grants of the episcopal lands to certain of his barons;[65] those lands were therefore looked on as property which had undergone at least a temporary forfeiture. He is summoned to the King’s Court. He however sent an answer to the Bishop, bidding him come to his presence, and adding the condition that, if he would not stay with the King as the King wished, he should be allowed to go back safe to Durham. It must however be supposed that this promise was not accompanied by any formal safe-conduct; otherwise, though it is not uncommon to find the officers of a king or other lord acting far more harshly than the lord himself, it is hard to understand the treatment which Bishop William met with at the hands of the zealous Sheriff of Yorkshire. Action of Ralph Paganel. That office was now held by Ralph Paganel, a man who appears in Domesday as holder of lands in various parts, from Devonshire to the lands of his present sheriffdom,[66] and who next year became the founder of the priory of the Holy Trinity at York.[67] The Bishop, on receiving the King’s answer, sent to York to ask for peace of the Sheriff. But all peace was refused to the Bishop, to his messengers, and to all his men. A monk who was coming back from the King’s presence to the Bishop was stopped; his horse was killed, though he was allowed to go on on foot. The lands of the bishopric laid waste. March-May, 1088. Lastly, the Sheriff ordered all men in the King’s name to do all the harm that they could to the Bishop everywhere and in every way. The Bishop was thus cut off from telling his grievances; and for seven weeks, we are told, the lands of the bishopric were laid waste.[68] This date brings us into the month of May, by which time important events had happened in other parts of England.

We have seen that, in south-eastern England at least, the unrede of this year’s Lent must have gone beyond mere words, and must have already taken the form of action. General rebellion. But it seems not to have been till after Easter that the general revolt of the disaffected nobles broke forth throughout the whole land. By this time they had all thoroughly made up their minds to act. And we may add that it is quite possible that the King’s treatment of the Bishop of Durham may have had some share in helping them to make up their minds. They may have been led to think that open rebellion was the safest course. The Easter Gemót. April 16, 1088. The first general sign was given at the Easter Gemót of the year, which, according to rule, would be held at Winchester. The rebel nobles, instead of appearing to do their duty when the King wore his crown, kept aloof from his court.The rebels refuse to come. They gat them each man to his castle, and made them ready for war.[69] Soon after the festival the flame burst forth. The great body of the Norman lords of England were in open revolt against the son of the man who had made England theirs.

The rebel nobles. The list of the rebel nobles reads like a roll of the Norman leaders at Senlac or a choice of the names which fill the foremost places in Domesday. With a few marked exceptions, all the great men of the land are there. Robert of Mortain Along with Odo, Bishop and Earl, the other brother of the Conqueror, Robert of Mortain and of Cornwall, the lord of Pevensey and of Montacute, joined in the revolt against his nephew.[70] and William of Eu. So did another kinsman, a member of the ducal house of Normandy and gorged with the spoils of England, William son of Robert Count of Eu, grandson of the elder William and his famous wife Lescelina.[71] Earl Roger and the border lords. Of greater personal fame, and of higher formal rank on English soil, was the father of one of the men who had crossed the sea to trouble England, Roger of Montgomery, whose earldom of Shrewsbury swells, in the statelier language of one of our authorities, into an earldom of the Mercians.[72] He brought with him a great following from his own border-land. Among these was Roger of Lacy, great in the shires from Berkshire to Shropshire;[73] Osbern. and with him came the old enemy Osbern of Richard’s Castle, whose name carries us back to times that now seem far away.[74]

With Osbern came his son-in-law Bernard of Neufmarché or Newmarch, sister’s son to the noble Gulbert of Hugleville, the man who was soon to stamp his memory on the mountain land of Brecheiniog.[75] From the same border too came the lord of Wigmore, Ralph of Mortemer.[76]

But the treason of the great Earl of the central march was not followed by his northern neighbour. Loyalty of Earl Hugh. Hugh of Chester clave to the King, while the mightiest of his tenants joined the rebels. For the old Hugh of Grantmesnil raised the standard of revolt in Northhamptonshire, and in Leicestershire, the land of his sheriffdom.[77] Rebellion of Robert of Rhuddlan; And his rebellion seems to have carried with it that of his nephew the Marquess Robert of Rhuddlan, the terror of the northern Cymry.[78] Robert thus found himself in arms, not only against his king, but against his immediate and powerful neighbour and lord Earl Hugh. But the tie which bound a man to his mother’s brother was perhaps felt to be stronger than duty towards either king or earl. of Roger the Bigod; Along with the lords of the British marches stood the guardian of the eastern coast of England against the Dane, Roger the Bigod, father of earls, whose name, fated to be so renowned in later times, appears in the records of these days with a special brand of evil.[79] of Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances; And with Odo and William of Durham a third prelate joined in the unrede, a prelate the worthy compeer of Odo, the warrior Geoffrey of Coutances, the bishop who knew better how to marshal mailed knights for the battle than to teach surpliced clerks to chant their psalms in the choir.[80] He brought with him the last of the elder succession of Northumbrian earls, his nephew Robert of Mowbray, of Robert of Mowbray. tall of stature, swarthy of countenance, fierce, bold, and proud, who looked down on his peers and scorned to obey his betters, who loved better to think than to speak, and who, when he opened his lips, seldom let a smile soften his stern words.[81] With these leaders were joined a crowd of others, “mickle folk, all Frenchmen,” as the Chronicler significantly marks.[82] The sons of the soil, we are to believe, had no part in the counsels of that traitorous Lent, in the deeds of that wasting Easter.

Ravages of the rebels. The war now began, a war in which, after the example of the chief combatants, fathers fought against sons, brothers against brothers, friends against their former friends.[83] The rebel leaders, each from the point where his main strength lay, began to lay waste the land, specially the lordships of the King and the Archbishop. Evidence against the Bishop of Durham. And among these evil-doers the loyal monk of Peterborough distinctly sets down William of Saint-Calais, meek victim as he seems in the records of his own house. The Bishop may have argued that he was only returning what the King had done to him; but the witness is such as cannot be got over; “The Bishop of Durham did to harm all that he might over all the north” Some others of the confederates and their doings are sketched in a few words by the same sarcastic pen; Ravages of Roger Bigod; “Roger hight one of them that leapt into the castle at Norwich, and did yet the worst of all over all the land.”[84]

So does the English writer speak of the first Bigod who held the fortress which had arisen on the mound of the East-Anglian kings.[85] Roger had succeeded to the place, though not to the rank, of Ralph of Wader, and, as Ralph had made Norwich a centre of rebellion against the father, so Roger now made it a centre of rebellion against the son. of Hugh of Grantmesnil. Then we read how “Hugo eke did nothing better neither within Leicestershire nor within Northampton.”[86] This was the way in which the lord of Grantmesnil, so honoured at Saint Evroul, was looked on in the scriptorium of the house which had once been the Golden Borough. In some other parts of the country we get fuller accounts than these of the doers and of what was done. Three districts in the west and in the south-east of England became the scene of events which are set down by the writers of the age in considerable detail.

Bristol and its castle. Of Bristol, the great merchant-haven on the West-Saxon and Mercian border, we last heard when the sons of Harold failed to make their way within its walls,[87] and when its greedy slave-traders cast aside, for a while at least, their darling sin at the preaching of Saint Wulfstan.[88] The borough was now beginning to put on a new character, one which, in the disturbances half a century later, won for it the name of the stepmother of all England.[89] Bristol in the eleventh century.A fortress, the forerunner of the great work of Robert Earl of Gloucester,[90] had now arisen, and its presence made Bristol one of the chief military centres of England down to the warfare of the seventeenth century. The Bristol of those days had not yet occupied the ground which is now covered by its two chief ecclesiastical ornaments. The abbey of Saint The chief churches not yet built. Augustine, the creation of Robert Fitz-Harding, had not yet arisen on the lowest slope of the hills to the west, nor the priory of Saint James, the creation of Earl Robert, on the ground to the north of the borough. These foundations arose in the next age on the Mercian ground without the walls. And any forerunner which may then have been of the church of Saint Mary on the Red cliff, for ages past the stateliest among the parish churches of England, stood beyond the walls, beyond the river, on undisputed West-Saxon ground. Peninsular site of the borough. The older Bristol lay wholly on the Mercian side of the Avon, at the point where the Frome of Gloucestershire still poured its waters into the greater stream in the sight of the sun.[91] But nowhere, unless at Palermo, have the relations of land and water been more strangely turned about than they have been at Bristol. The two rivers. The course of the greater river, though not actually turned aside, is disguised by cuts and artificial harbours which puzzle the visitor till the key is found. The lesser stream of the Changes in later times. Frome has had its course changed and shortened, and the remnant is, like the Fleet of London, condemned by art to the fate which nature has laid on so many of the rivers of Greece and Dalmatia;[92] it runs, as in a katabothra, under modern streets and houses. The marshy ground lying at the meeting of the streams has been reclaimed and covered with the modern buildings of the city. In the twelfth century, still more therefore in the eleventh, this space was covered at every high tide, when the waters rushing up the channels of both rivers made Bristol seem to float on their bosom like Venice or Ravenna.[93] The castle. Of the castle again the more part of its site is covered by modern buildings; a great part of its moat is filled up; the donjon has vanished; the green is no longer a green; it is only by searching that we can find out some parts of the outer walls of the fortress, and some still smaller parts of the buildings which they fenced in.[94] But, when the key is once found, it is not hard to follow the line both of the borough and of the fortress. Bristol belongs to the same general class of peninsular towns as Châlons, Shrewsbury, Bern, and Besançon; but, as at Châlons, the height above the rivers is not great; and it is at Bristol made quite insignificant by comparison with the hills to the west and north. Yet on the narrow neck of the isthmus itself, the actual slope towards the streams on either side is not to be despised. To the west of that isthmus, within the peninsula, stood the original town, girded to the north by the original course of the Frome, to the south-west by the marshy ground at the junction of the rivers.[95]

To the west of the isthmus, outside the peninsula, stood the castle. Standing on the exposed side, open to an attack from the east, it was fenced in on three sides by a moat joining the two rivers at either end. Works of Earl Robert. A writer of the next age gives us a picture of Bristol Castle as it then stood, strengthened by all the more advanced art of that time.[96] But the great keep of Earl Robert, slighted in the days of the Commonwealth, was not yet. We can only guess at the state of borough and fortress, as they had stood when the sons of Harold were driven back from the walls of Bristol, or as they stood now at the opening of the civil war which we have now reached. But there are few towns whose general look must have been more thoroughly unlike what it is now. The central and busy streets which occupy the area of the older Bristol must, allowing for the difference between the eleventh century and the nineteenth, still keep the general character of the old merchant-borough. Growth of the town. But few changes can be greater than those which have affected Bristol both in earlier and in later times. One period of change first surrounded the elder town with a fringe of ecclesiastical buildings, and then took them within a more extended line of wall. Another in later days has swept away well nigh every trace of the fortress which was so famous both in the twelfth century and in the seventeenth, and has covered the whole range of the neighbouring hills with a new and airy city of modern days.

Edwᵈ. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

Map illustrating the
SOMERSET AND
GLOUCESTERSHIRE CAMPAIGN. 1088.

Bristol occupied by Bishop Geoffrey. The castle of Bristol then, though not perched, like so many of its fellows, on any lofty height, was placed on a strong and important site. That site, commanding the lower course of the Avon and the great borough upon it, and guarding the meeting-place, still of two shires, as once of two kingdoms, supplied an admirable centre for the work of those whose object was, not to guard those shires, but to lay them waste.[97] To that end Bristol was occupied and garrisoned by the warrior Bishop of Coutances, Geoffrey of Mowbray. It is not unlikely that he was already in command of the castle. He was not only a land-owner in the two neighbouring shires, a very great land-owner in that of Somerset;[98]

but the meagre notice of Bristol in the Great Survey His relation to the town. also shows that he stood in some special relation to the borough as the receiver of the King’s dues within it.[99]

He doubtless added anything that the castle needed in His works. the way of further defences, and conjecture has attributed to him one of the several lines which the city walls have taken, that which brought the line of defence most closely to the banks of the Frome.[100] But whatever were his works, we have no record of them; we know only that the fierce prelate, at the head of his partisans, turned Bristol Castle into a den of robbers. Ravages of William of Eu and Robert of Mowbray. His chief confederates were William of Eu, of whom we have already spoken[101] , and his own nephew Robert of Mowbray. Among them they harried the land, and brought in the fruits of their harrying to the castle.[102]

The central position of Bristol made a division of labour easy. Of Bishop Geoffrey’s two younger confederates, Robert undertook the work in Somerset and William in Gloucestershire. Robert marched up the valley of the Robert burns Bath. Avon to the Roman town of Bath, emphatically the “old borough.”[103] At the foot of the hills on either side, lying, as wicked wits put it, amid sulphureous vapours, at the gates of hell,[104] the square, small indeed, of the Roman walls sheltered the abbey of Offa’s rearing, now widowed by the death of its English abbot Ælfsige.[105] The city had been overthrown by the arms of Ceawlin; it had lain waste like the City of the Legions;[106] it had risen again as an English town to share with the City of the Legions in the two chief glories of the days of the peaceful Eadgar. If Chester saw his triumph,[107] Bath had seen his crowning. And now the hand of the Norman, not the Norman Conqueror but the Norman rebel, fell as heavily on the English borough as the hand of the West-Saxon invader had fallen five hundred years before. Bath was a king’s town; as such it drew on itself the special wrath of the rebels; the whole town was destroyed by fire, to rise again presently in another character.[108] From He marches through Wiltshire to Ilchester. Bath, the greatest town of Somerset, but which, as placed in a corner of the land, has never claimed to be one of its administrative centres, the destroyer passed on to another town of Roman origin, which once did aspire to be the head of the Sumorsætan, but from which all traces of greatness have passed away. From Bath Robert first marched into Wiltshire, most likely following the line of the Avon; he there wrought much slaughter and took great spoil. He then turned to the south-west along the high ground of Wiltshire; he made his way into the mid parts of Somerset, and laid siege to the King’s town of Givelceaster, Ivelchester, Ilchester, Position of Ilchester. the Ischalis of a by-gone day.[109] The town lay at the foot of the most central range of the hills of Somerset, on the edge of one of the inlets of the great marshland of Sedgemoor. The site was marked by the junction of the great line of the Fossway with a number of roads in all directions. The spot was defended by the river, the Ivel, which gives the town its English name. Here, at the foot of the high ground, the stream widens to surround an island, a convenient outpost in the defences of the town which arose on its southern bank. The siege. Ilchester, like Bath, drew on itself the special enmity of the rebels as being a king’s town, an enmity likely to be the sharper because Ilchester stands within sight of Count Robert’s castle of Montacute, and is divided only by the river from lands which were held by his fellow-rebel William of Eu.[110] The Ilchester of our day seems a strange place for a siege; but in the days of the Red King the town was still surrounded by strong walls, and those walls were defended by valiant burghers. The walls and gates have perished; the ditches have been filled up; yet the lasting impress of the four-sided shape of the Roman chester may still be traced in the direction of the roads and buildings of the modern town.[111] The importance of Ilchester had passed away even in the sixteenth century, when of its five or six churches all but one were in ruins; but, in the times with which we are dealing, its hundred and seven burgesses, with their market held in the old forum at the meeting-place of the roads, held no inconsiderable place among the smaller boroughs of Western England.[112] What Robert of Mowbray driven back from Ilchester. the men of Ilchester had they knew how to defend; the attack and the defence were vigorously carried on on either side. Our one historian of the leaguer—he becomes almost its minstrel—tells us how the besiegers fought for greed of booty and love of victory, while the besieged fought with a good heart for their own safety and that of their friends and kinsfolk. The stronger and worthier motive had the better luck. The dark and gloomy Robert of Mowbray, darker and gloomier than ever, turned away, a defeated man, from the unconquered walls of Ilchester.[113]

This utter failure of a man who stands forth in a marked way as one of the skilful captains of the age was a good omen for success at points which were still William of Eu plunders in Gloucestershire. more important in the struggle. Meanwhile the work of destruction was going steadily on in the lands on the other side of Bristol, among the flock of the holy Wulfstan. Gloucestershire was assigned as the province of William of Eu, and he did his work with a will along the rich valley of the Severn, still the land of pasture, then also the land of vines.[114] The district called Berkeley He harries Berkeley. Harness was laid waste with fire and sword, and the town of Berkeley itself was plundered.[115] Berkeley, once the abode of Earl Godwine and the scene of the pious scruples of Gytha,[116] is now simply marked as a king’s town;[117] the abbey had vanished in a past generation; the famous castle belongs to a later generation; but the Position of Berkeley. place was not defenceless. Berkeley is indeed one of those places which have become strongholds almost by accident. It looks up at a crowd of points on the bold outlying promontories of the Cotswolds, points some of them marked by the earthworks of unrecorded times, which in Normandy or Maine could hardly fail to have been seized on for the site of fortresses far sooner than itself. Nor is it near enough to the wide estuary of the Severn to have been of any military importance in the way of commanding the stream. It is rather one of those places where the English lord fixed his dwelling on a spot which was chosen more as a convenient centre for his lands than with any regard to purposes of warfare. The mound, the church, the town, rose side by side on ground but slightly higher than the rich meadows around them. But the mound on which the great Earl of the West-Saxons had once dwelled had been, as usual, turned to Norman military uses. The castle. Earl William of Hereford, whose watchful care stretched on both sides of the river, had crowned it with what Domesday marks as “a little castle.”[118] One would be well pleased to know in what such a defence was an advance on the palisades or other defences which may have surrounded the hall of Godwine. In after days the “little castle” was to grow into the historic home of that historic house in whom, whether they themselves acknowledge it or not, history must see the lineal offspring, not of a Danish king, but of an English staller.[119] At present however the savage William of Eu had not to assault the stronghold of Robert, son of Harding and grandson of Eadnoth, but merely to overcome whatever resistance could be offered by the castellulum of William Fitz-Osbern. Its defences were most likely much less strong than the Roman walls of Ilchester. Berkeley and the coasts thereof were thoroughly ravaged. On the whole, notwithstanding the defeat of Robert of Mowbray, the Bishop of Coutances and his lieutenants had done their work to their own good liking. No small spoil from each of the three nearest shires had been brought in to the robbers’ hold at Bristol.

Meanwhile the same work was going on busily to the north and north-west of Bishop Geoffrey’s field of action. Rebel centre at Hereford. Of the movements in Herefordshire and Worcestershire we have fuller accounts, accounts which, before we have done, land us from the region of military history into that of hagiography. The centre of mischief in this region was at Hereford. The city which Harold had called back into being, and where William Fitz-Osbern had ruled so sternly, had now no longer an earl; the rebel Roger was paying the penalty of his treason at some point far away alike from Hereford, from Flanders, and from Breteuil.[120] The city had now the King for its immediate lord. It was presently seized by Roger of Lacy,[121] and was turned into a meeting-place for the disaffected. The host that came together is marked as made up of “the men that eldest were of Hereford, and the whole shire forthwith, and the men of Shropshire with mickle folk of Bretland.”[122] Some of their names, besides that of Roger of Lacy, we have heard already.[123] Action of Earl Roger. And we are significantly told that the men of Earl Roger—the men of Shropshire—were with them, a formula which seems specially meant to shut out the presence of the Earl himself.[124] And though the leaders were “all Frenchmen,”[125] yet among their followers were men of all the races of the land. Not only Normans and Britons, but Englishmen also, were seen in the rebel ranks. So it seemed, if not in the general prospect as it was looked at from distant Peterborough, yet at least in the clearer view which men took from the watch-towers of more nearly threatened Worcester.[126]

The rebels march on Worcester. For it was the “faithful city” of after days on which the full storm of the Western revolt was meant to burst. The Norman lords of the border, with their British allies, now marched on Worcester, as, thirty-three years before, 1055.an English earl of the border, with his British allies, had marched on Hereford.[127] They came of their own will to deal by Worcester, shire and city, as, forty-seven years 1041. before, English earls had been driven against their will to deal with them at the bidding of a Danish king.[128] “They harried and burned on Worcestershire forth, and they came to the port itself, and would then the port burn and the minster reave, and the King’s castle win to their hands.”[129]

But Worcester was not doomed to see in the days of the second William such a day as Hereford had seen in the days of Eadward, as Worcester itself had seen in the days of Harthacnut. Deliverance of Worcester. The port was not burned, the minster was not reaved, nor was the King’s castle won into the hands of his enemies. And the deliverance of Worcester is, with one accord, assigned by the writers of the time to the presence within its walls of its bishop, the one remaining bishop of English blood, whose unshaken loyalty had most likely brought the special wrath of the rebels upon his city and flock. Action of Wulfstan. The holy Wulfstan was grieved at heart for the woes which seemed coming upon his people; but he bade them be of good courage and trust in the Lord who saveth not by sword or spear.[130] The man who had won the heart of Northumberland for Harold,[131] who had saved his own city for the first William,[132] was now to save it again for the second. Position of Worcester. At Worcester, castle, minster, and episcopal palace rose side by side immediately above the Severn. But Worcester is no hill city like Durham or Le Mans. The height above the stream is slight; the subordinate buildings of the monastery went down almost to its banks. The mound, traditionally connected with the name of Eadgar the Giver-of-peace, has now utterly vanished; it then stood to the south of the monastery, and had become, as elsewhere, the kernel of the Norman castle. It will be remembered that it was the sacrilegious extension of its precincts at the hands of Urse of Abetot which had brought down on him the curse of Ealdred.[133]

But by this time the new minster of Wulfstan’s own building, whose site, we may suppose, was further from the castle, that is, more to the north, than that of the church of Oswald,[134] was, if not yet finished, at least in making. It may be that at this moment the two minsters—the elder one which has wholly passed away, the newer, where Wulfstan’s crypt and some other portions of his work still remain among the recastings of later times,—both stood between the mound of Eadgar and its Norman surroundings, and the bishop’s dwelling, whatever may have been its form in Wulfstan’s day. Still along the line of the river, lay the buildings of the city further to the north, with the bridge leading to the meadows and low hills beyond the stream, backed by the varied outline of the heights of Malvern, the home of the newly-founded brotherhood of Ealdwine.[135] At the moment when the rebels drew near to Worcester, all the inhabitants of the city, of whatever race or order, were of one heart and of one soul under the inspiration of their holy Bishop. Wulfstan called to the command. Like the prophets and judges of old, Wulfstan suddenly stands forth as first, if not in military action, at least in military command. We know not whether the fierce Sheriff or some captain of a milder spirit formally bore rule in the castle. But we read that the Norman garrison, by whom the mild virtues of the English bishop were known and loved, practically put him at their head. They prayed him to leave his episcopal home beyond the church, and to take up his abode with them in the fortress. If danger should be pressing, they would feel themselves all the safer, if such an one as he were among them.[136] Wulfstan enters the castle. Wulfstan agreed to their proposal, and set out on the short journey which he was asked to make, a journey which the encroachments of the Sheriff had made shorter than it should have been.[137]

On his way he was surrounded by the inhabitants of Worcester of all classes, all alike ready for battle. He himself had, after the new fashion of Norman prelates, a military following,[138] and the soldiers of the King and of the Bishop, with all the citizens of Worcester, now came together in arms. From the height of the castle mound, Wulfstan and his people looked forth beyond the river. Advance of the rebels. The foes were now advancing; they could be seen marching towards the city, and burning and laying waste the lands of the bishopric.[139] Sally of the royal forces. Soldiers and citizens now craved the Bishop’s leave to cross the river and meet the enemy. Wulfstan gave them leave, encouraging them by his blessing, and by the assurance that God would allow no harm to befall those who went forth to fight for their King and for the deliverance of their city and people.[140] Grieved further by the sight of the harrying of the church-lands, and pressed by the urgent prayer of all around him, Wulfstan curses the rebels. Wulfstan pronounced a solemn anathema against the rebellious and sacrilegious invaders.[141] The loyal troops, strengthened by the exhortations and promises of their Bishop, set forth. Victory of the king’s men. The bridge was made firm; the defenders of Worcester marched across it;[142] and the working of Wulfstan’s curse, so the tradition of Worcester ran, smote down their enemies before them with a more than human power. The invaders, scattered over the fields for plunder, were at once overtaken and overthrown. Their limbs became weak and their eyes dim; they could hardly lift their weapons or know friend from foe.[143] The footmen were slaughtered; the horsemen, Norman, English, and Welsh, were taken prisoners; of the whole host only a few escaped by flight. The men of the King and of the Bishop marched back to Worcester—so Worcester dutifully believed—without the loss of a single man from their ranks. They came back rejoicing in the great salvation which had been wrought by their hands, and giving all thanks to God and his servant Wulfstan.[144]

Among the sorrows which rent the breast of the holy Bishop of Worcester, one may have been to see a man of his own order, one whom he had, somewhat strangely perhaps, honoured with his friendship, acting as a temporal leader in the rebellion against which he had to wield his spiritual arms. It was, it may be remembered, Geoffrey of Mowbray, the lord of the robbers’ hold at Bristol, who had rebuked the lamb-like simplicity of Wulfstan’s garb.[145] The lamb of Severnside had now overthrown alike the wolves of Normandy and the wild cats of the British hills. But, if Wulfstan mourned over the evil deeds of the warlike Bishop of Coutances, he had no such personal cause for grief over either the sins or the sorrows of another bishop who was meanwhile, like himself, besieged in an episcopal city. That bishop however was not, like Wulfstan, defending his own flock with either spiritual or temporal arms; he was doing all the wrong in his power to the flock of another. Movements of Odo in Kent. The source and leader of the whole mischief,[146] Odo, Bishop and Earl, chose his own earldom of Kent for the scene of his ravages. Our notes of time are very imperfect, and we have seen that there were movements in Kent, movements in which Odo seems to have had a share, much earlier in the year.[147] But it would seem that the great outbreak of rebellion in south-eastern England happened about the same time as the great outbreaks more to the west and north. As the Bishop of Coutances had fixed his head-quarters in the castle of Bristol, so the Bishop of Bayeux now fixed his head-quarters in the castle of Rochester, and thence ravaged the lands of the King and the Archbishop.[148] Another great Kentish fortress, that of Tunbridge, was also in rebellion. Tunbridge and Pevensey. So in Sussex was Pevensey, the very firstfruits of the Conquest, where Odo’s brother Count Robert also held out against the King. These three fortresses now become the busy scene of our immediate story; but the centre of all is the post occupied by the Bishop of Bayeux and Earl of Kent. This part of the war is emphatically the war of Rochester.

Edwᵈ. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

Map illustrating the
KENT AND SUSSEX
CAMPAIGN. A.D. 1088.

Early history of Rochester. The city by the Medway had been a fortress from the earliest times. We have seen that it had already played a part both in foreign and in civil wars. In the days of Æthelred it still kept the Roman walls parts of which still remain, walls which were then able to withstand two sieges, one at the hands of the King himself, and one at those of the Danish invaders.[149] Importance of its position. In truth the position of Rochester, lying on the road from London to Canterbury, near to the sea on a navigable river, made it at all times a great military post.[150] The chief ornament of the city did not yet exist in the days of Odo. The later castle. The noble tower raised in the next age by Archbishop Walter of Corbeuil, the tower which in one struggle held out against John[151] and in the next held out for his son,[152] and still remains one of the glories of Norman military architecture, had perhaps not even a forerunner of its own class.[153] The cathedral church. And the minster of Saint Andrew, which the enlargements of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries have still left one of the least among the episcopal churches of England, had then only the lowly forerunner which had risen, which perhaps was still only rising, under the hands of Gundulf.[154] The castle site fortified by the Conqueror. But the steep scarped cliff rising above the broad tidal stream was a stronghold in the Conqueror’s days, as it had doubtless been in days long before his. Whether a stone castle had yet been built is uncertain; the fact that such an one was built for William Rufus by Gundulf later in his reign might almost lead us to think that as yet the site, strong in itself, was defended only by earthworks and defences of timber.[155] The city. Below the castle to the south-east lay the city, doubtless fenced by the Roman wall; and a large part of its space had now begun to form the monastic precinct of Saint Andrew. The town is said to have been parted from the castle by a ditch which, as at Le Mans and at Lincoln, was overleaped by the enlarged church of the twelfth century;[156] in any case the castle, in all its stages, formed a sheltering citadel to the town at its feet. Nature of the site. Neither town nor castle by itself occupies a peninsular site; but a great bend of the river to the south makes the whole ground on which they stand peninsular, with an extent of marshy ground between the town and the river to the north and east. The stronghold of Rochester, no lofty natural peak, no mound of ancient English kings, perhaps as yet gathering round no square keep of the new Norman fashion, but in any case a well-defended circuit with its scarped sides strengthened by all the art of the time, was the chief fortress of the ancient kingdom over which the Bishop of Bayeux now ruled as Earl. The castle occupied by Odo. It now became, under him, the great centre of the rebellion. Gundulf, renowned as he was for his skill in military architecture, must have been sore let and hindered in the peaceful work of building his church and settling the discipline of his monks,[157] when his brother bishop filled the castle with his men of war, five hundred of his own knights among them.[158] But Odo was not satisfied with his garrison. Odo asks Robert to come. He sent beyond sea to Duke Robert for further help. The prince in whose name Rochester was now held was earnestly prayed to come at once at the head of the full power of his duchy, to take possession of the crown and kingdom which were waiting for his coming.[159]

E. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

ROCHESTER

The news brought to Robert. According to the narrative which we are now following, it would seem that Robert now heard for the first time of the movement which was going on in his behalf in England. His heart is lifted up at the unlooked for news; he tells the tidings to his friends; certain of victory, he sends some of them over to share in the spoil; he promises to come himself with all speed, as soon as he should have gathered a greater force.[160] He sends over Eustace of Boulogne and Robert of Bellême. At the head of the party which was actually sent were two men whose names are familiar to us.[161] One of them, Count Eustace of Boulogne, united the characters of a land-owner in England and of a sovereign prince in Gaul. This was the younger Eustace, the son of the old enemy of England, the brother of the hero who was within a few years to win back the Holy City for Christendom.[162] With him came Robert of Bellême; his share in the rebellion is his first act on English ground that we have to record. Three sons of Earl Roger at Rochester. Himself the eldest son of Earl Roger of Shrewsbury, he had either brought with him two of his brothers, or else they had already embraced the cause of Odo in England. Three sons of Roger and Mabel were now within the walls of Rochester.[163] Hugh of Montgomery. The second was Hugh, who was for a moment to represent the line of Montgomery while Robert represented the line of Bellême, and who was to be as fierce a scourge to the Britons of the Northern border as Robert was to be to the valiant defenders of the land of Maine.[164] Roger of Poitou. And with them was the third brother, Roger of Poitou, the lord of the debateable land between Mersey and Ribble,[165] carrying as it were to the furthest point of the earldom of Leofric the claim of his father to the proud title which the elder Roger bears at this stage of our story. Action of Earl Roger. It is as Earl of the Mercians that one teller of our tale bids us look for a moment on the lord of Montgomery and Shrewsbury.[166] But the Earl of the Mercians was not with his sons at Rochester any more than he had been with his men before Worcester. He was in another seat of his scattered power. His presence was less needed at Shrewsbury, less needed at the continental or the insular Montgomery, than it was in the South-Saxon land where the lord of Arundel and Chichester held so high a place. He stays at Arundel. While his men were overthrown before Worcester, while his sons were strengthening themselves at Rochester, Earl Roger himself was watching events in his castle of Arundel.[167] The spot was well fitted for the purpose. Arundel lies in the same general region of England as the three great rebel strongholds of Rochester, Tunbridge, and Pevensey; it lies in the same shire and near the same coast as the last named of the three. Position of Arundel. But it lies apart from the immediate field of action of a campaign which should gather round those three centres. A gap in the Sussex downs, where the Arun makes its way to the sea through the flat land at its base, had been marked out, most likely from the earliest times, as a fitting spot for a stronghold. A castle at Arundel T. R. E. The last slope of this part of the downs towards the east was strengthened in days before King William came with a mound and a ditch, and Arundel is marked in the Great Survey as one of the castles few and far between which England contained before his coming.[168] Description of the castle. The shell-keep which crowns the mound, and the gateway which flanks it, have been recast at various later times from the twelfth century onward, but it would be rash to assert that the mere wall of the keep may not contain portions either of the days of King William or of the days of King Eadward. The traces of a vast hall, more immediately overlooking the river, reared as usual on a vaulted substructure, almost constrain us to see in them the work of no age earlier or later than that of Roger or his successor of his own house.[169] The site is a natural watchtower, whence the eye ranges far away to various points of the compass, over the flat land and over the more distant hills, and over the many windings of the tidal river which then made Arundel a place of trade as well as of defence.[170] Less threatening than his vulture’s nest at Tre Baldwin,[171] less tempting to an enemy than his fortresses on the peninsula of Shrewsbury and within the walls of Chichester,[172] the stronghold of Arundel seems exactly the place for an experienced observer of men and things like Earl Roger to look out from and bide his time. He had to watch the course of things in the three rebel fortresses; he had further to watch what might come from a nearer spot, another break in the hill ground, where, between his doubtful Arundel and rebellious William of Warren at Lewes. Pevensey, the twin mounds of loyal Lewes,[173] the home of William and Gundrada, looked up to what was one day to be the battle-ground of English freedom. Its lord, long familiar to us as William of Warren, stood firm in his allegiance, and it was now, according to some His earldom of Surrey. accounts, that he received his earldom of Surrey, an earldom to be borne in after times along with that which took its name from Roger’s own Arundel.[174] William became the King’s chief counsellor, and his position at Lewes must have thrown difficulties in the way of any communication between Arundel and Pevensey. His loyalty. And in truth, when Earl Roger found it safest to watch and be prudent, we are not surprised to find events presently shaping themselves in such a way as to make it his wisest course to play the part of the Curio of the tale.[175]

Action of the King. But meanwhile where was King William? Where was the king who had taken his place on his father’s seat with so much ease, but whose place upon it had been so soon and so rudely shaken? We have been called on more than once in earlier studies to mark how the two characters of fox and lion were mingled in the tempers of the Conqueror and his countrymen, and assuredly the Conqueror’s second surviving son was fully able to don either garb when need called for it.[176] At this moment we are told in a marked way that William Rufus showed himself in the character of that which is conventionally looked on as the nobler beast. He had no mind to seek for murky holes, like the timid fox, but, like the bold and fearless lion, he gave himself mightily to put down the devices of his enemies.[177] Yet the first time when He wins over Earl Roger. we distinctly get a personal sight of him, the Red King is seen playing the part of the fox with no small effect. Earl Roger was assuredly no mean master of Norman craft; but King William, in his first essay, showed himself fully his equal. By a personal appeal he won the Earl over from at least taking any further personal share in the rebellion. At some place not mentioned, perhaps at Arundel itself, the Earl, disguising, we are told, his treason, was riding in the King’s company.[178]

The King took him aside, and argued the case with him. He would, he said, give up the kingdom, if such was really the wish of the old companions of his father. He knew not wherefore they were so bitter against him; he was ready, if they wished it, to make them further grants of lands or money. Only let them remember one thing; his cause and theirs were really the same; it was safer not to dispute the will of the man who had made both him and them what they were. “You may,” wound up Rufus, “despise and overthrow me; but take care lest such an example should prove dangerous to yourselves. My father has made me a king, and it was he alone who made you an earl.”[179] Roger felt or affected conviction, and followed the King, in his bodily presence at least, during the rest of the campaign.[180] Count Robert at Pevensey. But Robert, Count of Mortain and lord of Cornwall, still made Pevensey one of the strongholds of the revolt. Of the third great neighbour of these two lords, Count Robert of Eu, father of the ravager of Berkeley, we hear nothing on this side of the water.

Loyal Normans. But, amid the general falling away, the throne of William Rufus was still defended by some men of Norman birth on whom he could better rely than on the Earl Hugh.doubtful loyalty of the Earl of Shrewsbury. Earl Hugh of Chester remained faithful; so, as we have seen, did Earl Roger’s neighbour, now or afterwards Earl William.[181] William of Warren. And to these already famous names we must add one which was now only beginning to be heard of, but which was presently to equal, if not to surpass, the renown of either. Robert Fitz-hamon. This was Robert Fitz-hamon, the son or grandson of Hamon Dentatus, the rebel of Val-ès-dunes.[182] But it was not on the swords of the Norman followers of his father that the son of the Conqueror rested his hopes of keeping the crown which the Conqueror had left him. Forces on the side of Rufus, William Rufus had at his side two forces, either of which, when it could put forth its full power, was stronger by far than the Norman nobles. All that in any way represented the higher feelings and instincts of man was along with him. All that in any shape was an embodiment of law or right was arrayed against the men whose one avowed principle was the desire to shake off the restraints of law in any shape. the Church, and the people. Against the openly proclaimed reign of lawlessness the King could rely on the strength of the Church and the strength of the people. With the single exception of him of Durham, the marauding bishops of Bayeux and Coutances found no followers among the men of their order in England. Loyalty of the Bishops. Lanfranc stood firmly by the King to whom he had given the crown; and the other bishops, of whatever origin, sought, we are told, with all faithfulness of purpose, the things which were for peace.[183] The King appeals to the English. Either by their advice or by his own discernment, the King saw that his only course was to throw himself on the true folk of the land, to declare himself King of the English in fact as well as in name. His proclamation. A written proclamation went forth in the name of King William, addressed, doubtless in their own ancient tongue, to the sons of the soil, the men of English kin. The King of the English called on the people of the English, on the valiant men who were left of the old stock; he set forth his need to them and craved for their loyal help.[184] At such a moment he was lavish of promises. His promises. All the wrongs of the days of William the Elder were to be put an end to in the days of William the Younger. The English folk should have again the best laws that ever before were in this land. King William would reign over his people like Eadward or Cnut or Ælfred. The two great grievances of his father’s days were to cease; the King’s coffers were no longer to be filled by money wrung from his people; the King’s hunting-grounds were no longer to be fenced in by the savage code which had guarded the Conqueror’s pleasures. All unrighteous geld he forbade, and he granted to them their woods and right of hunting.[185] The English take up the King’s cause. At the sound of such promises men’s hearts were stirred. At such moments, men commonly listen to their hopes rather than to their reason; the prospects and promises of a new reign are always made the best of; and there was no special reason as yet why the word of William the Red should be distrusted. He had not conquered England; he had not as yet had the means of oppressing England; he had shown at least one virtue in dutiful attachment to his father; his counsellor was the venerated Primate; chief in loyalty to him was one yet more venerated, the one native chief left to the English Church, the holy Bishop of Worcester. If the English dealt with William as an English king, he might deal with them as an English king should deal with his people. Motives for supporting William. In fighting for William against the men who had risen up against him, they would be fighting for one who had not himself wronged them against the men who had done them the bitterest of wrongs. If the Bishop of Bayeux and the Bishop of Coutances, if Robert of Mortain and Robert of Mowbray, if Eustace of Boulogne and the fierce lord of Bellême, could all be smitten down by English axes or driven into banishment from the English shores, if their estates on English soil could be again parted out as the reward of English valour, the work of the Norman Conquest would indeed seem to be undone. And it would be undone none the less, although the king whose crown was made sure by English hands was himself the son of the Conqueror of England.

Loyalty of the English. With such feelings as these the sons of the soil gathered with glee around the standard of King William. Not a name is handed down to us. We know not from what shires they came or under what leaders they marched. They meet in London. We see only that, as was natural when the stress of the war lay in Kent and Sussex, the trysting-place was London.[186] How did that great city stand at this moment with regard to the rebellion? It will be remembered by what vigorous means Bishop William of Durham claimed to have secured the allegiance of the citizens some time earlier.[187] At all events, whether by the help of William of Saint-Calais or not, London was now in the King’s hands. William’s English army. There the royal host met, a motley host, a host of horse and foot, of Normans and English, but a host in which the English element was by far the greatest, and in which English feeling gave its character to the whole movement. Thirty thousand of the true natives of the land came together of their own free will to the defence of their lord the King.[188]

The figures are of much the same value as other figures; it is enough if we take them as marking a general and zealous movement. Their zeal in his cause. The men who were thus brought together promised the King their most zealous service; they exhorted him to press on valiantly, to smite the rebels, and to win for himself the Empire of the whole island.[189] This last phrase is worth noting, even if it be a mere flourish of the historian. William accepted as the English king. It marks that the change of dynasty was fully accepted, that the son of the Conqueror was fully acknowledged as the heir of all the rights of Æthelstan the Glorious and of Eadmund the Doer-of-great-deeds. A daughter of their race still sat on the Scottish throne; but for Malcolm, the savage devastator of Northern England, Englishmen could not be expected to feel any love. William was now their king, their king crowned and anointed, the lord to whom their duty was owing as his men.[190] Him they would make fast on the throne of England; for him they were ready to win the Empire of all Britain. The English followers of Rufus loudly proclaimed their hatred of rebellion. They even, we are told, called on their leader to study the history of past times, where he would see how faithful Englishmen had ever been to their kings.[191]

William’s march. At the head of this great and zealous host William the Red set forth from London. He set forth at the head of an English host, to fight against Norman enemies in the Kentish and South-Saxon lands. And in that host there may well have been men who had marched forth from London on the like errand only two-and-twenty years before. Great as were the changes which had swept over the land, men must have been still living, still able to bear arms, who had dealt their blows in the Malfosse of Senlac amidst the last glimmerings of light on the day of Saint Calixtus. The enemy was nationally and even personally the same. English hatred of Odo. The work before all others at the present moment was to seize the man whose spiritual exhortations had stirred up Norman valour on that unforgotten day, and whose temporal arm had wielded, if not the sword, at least the war-club, in the first rank of the invaders. Odo, the invader of old, the oppressor of later days, the head and front of the evil rede of the present moment, was the foremost object of the loyal and patriotic hatred of every Englishman in the Red King’s army. Could he be seized, it would be easier to seize his accomplices.[192] The great object of the campaign was therefore to recover the castle of Rochester, the stronghold where the rebel Bishop, with his allies from Boulogne and from Bellême, bade their defiance to the King and people of England.

It was not however deemed good to march at once upon the immediate centre of the rebellion. A glance at the map will show that it was better policy not to make the attack on Rochester while both the other rebel strongholds, Tunbridge and Pevensey, remained unsubdued. Tunbridge castle. The former of these, a border-post of Kent and Sussex, guarding the upper course of the stream that flows by Rochester, would, if won for the King, put a strong barrier between Rochester and Pevensey. Attack on the castle. The march on Rochester therefore took a roundabout course, and this part of the war opened by an attack on Tunbridge which was the first exploit of the Red King’s English army. Position of Tunbridge. At a point on the Medway about four miles within the Kentish border, at the foot of the high ground reaching northward from the actual frontier of the two ancient kingdoms, the winding river receives the waters of several smaller streams, and forms a group of low islands and peninsulas. On the slightly rising ground to the north, commanding the stream and its bridge, a mound had risen, fenced by a ditch on the exposed side to the north. This ancient fortress had grown into the castle of Gilbert the son of Richard, called of Clare and of Tunbridge, the son of the famous Count Gilbert of the early days of the Conqueror.[193]

As Tunbridge now stands, the outer defences of the castle stand between the mound and the river, and the mound, bearing the shell-keep, is yoked together in a striking way with one of the noblest gateways of the later form of mediæval military art.[194] The general arrangements of the latter days of the eleventh century cannot have been widely different. The mound, doubtless a work of English hands turned to the uses of the stranger, was the main stronghold to be won. It was held by a body of Bishop Odo’s knights, under the command of its own lord Gilbert; to win it for the King and his people was an object only second to that of seizing the traitor prelate himself. The rebel band bade defiance to the King and his army. The castle held out for two days; but the zeal of the English was not to be withstood; no work could be more to their liking than that of attacking a Norman castle on their own soil, even with a Norman King as their leader. The castle stormed. The castle was stormed; the native Chronicler, specially recording the act of his countrymen, speaks of it, like the castles of York in the days of Waltheof, as “tobroken.”[195]

Most likely the buildings on the mound were thus “tobroken;” but some part of the castle enclosure must have been left habitable and defensible. For the garrison, with their chief Gilbert, were admitted to terms; and Gilbert, who had been wounded in the struggle, was left there under the care of a loyal guard.

The first blow had thus gone well to the mark. Such an exploit as this, the capture by English valour of one of the hated strongholds of the stranger, was enough to raise the spirit of William’s English followers to the highest pitch. And presently they were summoned to a work which would call forth a yet fiercer glow of national feeling. They march towards Rochester. After Tunbridge had fallen, they set forth on their march towards Rochester, believing that the arch-enemy Odo was there. Their course would be to the north-east, keeping some way from the left side of the Medway; Bishop Gundulf’s tower at Malling,[196]

if it was already built, would be the most marked point on the road. But they were not to reach Rochester by so easy a path. While they were on their way, news came to the King that his uncle was no longer at Rochester. Odo at Pevensey. While the King was before Tunbridge, the Bishop with a few followers had struck to the south-east, and had reached his brother’s castle of Pevensey.[197] Odo exhorts Robert of Mortain to hold out. The Count of Mortain and lord of Cornwall was perhaps wavering, like his neighbour at Arundel. The Bishop exhorted him to hold out. While the King besieged Rochester, they would be safe at Pevensey, and meanwhile Duke Robert and his host would cross the sea. The Duke would then win the crown, and would reward all their services.[198]

Interest of Duke Robert in the rebellion. It is well to be reminded by words like these what the professed object of the insurgents was. It would be easy to forget that all the plundering that had been done from Rochester to Ilchester had been done in the name of the lawful rights of Duke Robert. The men who harried Berkeley and who were overthrown at Worcester were but the forerunners of the Duke of His coming looked for. the Normans, who was to come, as spring went on, with the full force of his duchy.[199] It was not for nothing that King William had gathered his English army, when a new Norman Conquest was looked for. He fails to help the rebels. But as yet the blow was put off; Duke Robert came not; he seemed to think that the crown of England could be won with ease at any moment. When the first news of William’s accession came, when those around him urged him to active measures to support his rights, he had spoken of the matter with childish scorn. His childish boasting. Were he at the ends of the earth—the city of Alexandria is taken as the standard of distance—the English would not dare to make William king, William would not dare to accept the crown at their hands, without waiting for the coming of his elder brother.[200] Both the impossible things had happened, and Robert and his partisans had now before them the harder task of driving William from a throne which was already his, instead of merely hindering him from mounting it. Up to this time Robert had done nothing; His promises. but now, in answer to the urgent prayers of his uncles, he did get together a force for their help, and promised that he would himself follow it before long.[201]

William marches on Pevensey. The news of Odo’s presence at Pevensey at once changed the course of William’s march. Wherever the Bishop of Bayeux was, there was the point to be aimed at.[202] Instead of going on to Rochester, the King turned and marched straight upon Pevensey. The exact line of his march is not told us, but it could not fail to cross, perhaps it might for a while even coincide with, the line of march by which Harold had pressed to the South-Saxon coast on the eve of the great battle. The English besiege Odo in Pevensey. Things might seem to have strangely turned about, when an English army, led by a son of the Conqueror, marched to lay siege to the two brothers and chief fellow-workers of the Conqueror within the stronghold which was the very firstfruits of the Conquest. The Roman walls of Anderida were still there; but their whole circuit was no longer desolate, as it had been when the Conqueror landed, and as we see it now again. The castle of Pevensey. One part of the ancient city had again become a dwelling-place of man. As Pevensey now stands, the south-eastern corner of the Roman enclosure, now again as forsaken as the rest, is fenced in by the moat, the walls, the towers, of a castle of the later type, the type of the Edwards, but whose towers are built in evident imitation of the solid Roman bastions. Then, or at some earlier time, the Roman wall itself received a new line of parapet, and one at least of its bastions was raised to form a tower in the restored line of defence. When the house of Mortain passed away in the second generation, the honour of Pevensey became the possession of the house of Laigle, and from them, perhaps in popular speech, certainly in the dialect of local antiquaries, Anderida became the Honour of the Eagle.[203] Within the circuit of the later castle, close on the ancient wall, rises, covered with shapeless ruins, a small mound which doubtless marks the site of the elder keep of Count Robert. Within that keep the two sons of Herleva, Bishop and Count, looked down on the shore close at their feet where they had landed with their mightier brother two-and-twenty years before. Within that stern memorial of their victory, they had now to defend themselves against the sons and brothers of men who had fallen by their hands, and whose lands they had parted out among them for a prey.

The siege of Pevensey. The siege of Pevensey proved a far harder work than the siege of Tunbridge. The Roman wall with its new Norman defences was less easy to storm than the ancient English mound. William the Red had to wait longer before Pevensey than William the Great had had to wait before Exeter. The fortress was strong; the spirit of its defenders was high; for Odo was among them. The King beset the castle with a great host; he brought the artillery of the time to bear upon its defences; but for six weeks his rebellious uncles bore up against the attacks of William and his Englishmen.[204] Duke Robert at last sends help. And, while the siege went on, another of the chances of war seemed yet more thoroughly to reverse what had happened on the same spot not a generation back. Again a Norman host landed, or strove to land, within the haven of Pevensey. But they came under other guidance than that which had led the men who came before them on the like errand. When William crossed the sea, his own Mora sailed foremost and swiftest in the whole fleet, and William himself was the first man in his army to set foot on English ground. William in short led his fleet; his son only sent his. Robert stays behind. Robert still tarried in Normandy; he was coming, but not yet; his men were to make their way into England how they could without him. They came, and they found the South-Saxon coast better guarded than it had been when Harold had to strive against two invaders at once. The English hinder the Normans from landing. When Robert’s ships drew nigh, they found the ships of King William watching the coast; they found the soldiers of King William lining the shore.[205] On such a spot, in such a cause, no Englishman’s heart or hand was likely to fail him. The attempt at a new Norman landing at Pevensey was driven back. Those who escaped the English sailors drew near to the shore, but only to fall into the hands of the English land-force. It must not be forgotten that, as the coast-line then stood, when the sea covered what is now the low ground between the castle and the beach, the struggle for the landing must have gone on close under the walls of the ancient city and of the new-built castle. The English who beat back the Normans of Duke Robert’s fleet as they strove to land must have been themselves exposed to the arrows of the Normans who guarded Count Robert’s donjon. But the work was done. Some of the invaders lived to be taken prisoners; but the more part, a greater number than any man could tell, were smitten down by the English axes or thrust back to meet their doom in the waves of the Channel. Some who deemed that they had still the means of escape tried to hoist the sails of their ships and get them back to their own land. But the elements fought against them. The winds which had so long refused to bring the fleet of William from Normandy to England now refused no less to take back the fleet of Robert from England to Normandy. And there were no means now, as there had been by the Dive and at Saint Valery, for waiting patiently by a friendly coast, or for winning the good will of the South-Saxon saints by prayers or offerings.[206] Even Saint Martin of the Place of Battle had no call to help the eldest son of his founder against his founder’s namesake and chosen heir. The ships could not be moved; the English were upon them; the Normans, a laughing-stock to their enemies, rather than fall into their enemies’ hands, leaped from their benches into the less hostile waters. Utter failure of the invasion. The attempt of the Conqueror’s eldest son to do by deputy what his father had done in person had utterly come to nought. The new invaders of England had been overthrown by English hands on the spot where the work of the former invaders had begun.

After the defeat of this attempt to bring help to the besieged at Pevensey, nothing more was heard of Duke Robert’s coming in person. Alleged death of William of Warren. If we may believe a single confused and doubtful narrative, the defenders of the castle had at least the satisfaction of slaying one of the chief men in the royal army. We are told that Earl William of Warren was mortally wounded in the leg by an arrow from the walls of Pevensey, and was carried to Lewes only to die there.[207] However this may be, the failure of the Norman expedition carried with it the failure of the hopes of the besieged. The castle surrenders. Food now began to fail them, and Odo and Robert found that there was nothing left for them but to surrender to their nephew on the best terms that they could get. Of the terms which were granted to the Count of Mortain and lord of Cornwall we hear nothing. The Bishop of Bayeux and Earl of Kent was a more important person, and we have full details of everything that concerned him. Terms granted to Odo. The terms granted to the chief stirrer up of the whole rebellion were certainly favourable. He was called on to swear that he would leave England, and would never come back, unless the King sent for him, and that, before he Rochester to be surrendered. went, he would cause the castle of Rochester to be surrendered.[208]

For the better carrying out of the last of his engagements, the Bishop was sent on towards Rochester in the keeping of a small body of the King’s troops, while the King himself slowly followed.[209] No further treachery was feared; it was taken for granted that those who held the castle for Odo would give it up at once when Odo came in person to bid them do so. These hopes were vain; the young nobles who were left in the castle, Count Eustace, Robert of Bellême, and the rest, were not scrupulous as to the faith of treaties, and they had no mind to give up their stronghold till they were made to do so by force of arms. Odo was brought before the walls of Rochester. The leaders of the party that brought him called on the defenders of the castle to surrender; such was the bidding alike of the King who was absent and of the Bishop who was there in person. But Odo’s friends could see from the wall that the voices of the King’s messengers told one story, while the looks of the Bishop told another. The garrison refuse to surrender; Odo taken prisoner by his own friends. They threw open the gates; they rushed forth on the King’s men, who were in no case to resist them, and carried both them and the Bishop prisoners into the castle.[210] Odo was doubtless a willing captive; once within the walls of Rochester, he again became the life and soul of the defence.

It perhaps did not tend to the moral improvement of William Rufus to find himself thus shamefully deceived by one so near of kin to himself, so high in ecclesiastical rank. At the moment the treachery of Odo stirred him up to greater efforts. Rochester should be won, though it might need the whole strength of the kingdom to win it. William’s Niðing Proclamation. But the King saw that it was only by English hands that it could be won. He gathered around him his English followers, and by their advice put out a proclamation in ancient form bidding all men, French and English, from port and from upland, to come with all speed to the royal muster, if they would not be branded with the shameful name of Nithing. That name, the name which had been fixed, as the lowest badge of infamy, on the murderer Swegen,[211]

was a name under which no Englishman could live; and it seems to have been held that strangers settled on English ground would have put on enough of English feeling to be stirred in the like sort by the fear of having such a mark set upon them. What the Frenchmen did we are not told; The second English muster. but the fyrd of England answered loyally to the call of a King who thus knew how to appeal to the most deep-set feelings and traditions of Englishmen.[212] Men came in crowds to King William’s muster, and, in the course of May, a vast host beset the fortress of Rochester. The siege of Rochester. According to a practice of which we have often heard already, two temporary forts, no doubt of wood, were raised, so as to hem in the besieged and to cut off their communications from without.[213]

The site of one at least of these may be looked for on the high ground to the south of the castle, said to be itself partly artificial, and known as Boley Hill.[214]

The besieged soon found that all resistance was useless. They were absolutely alone. Pevensey and Tunbridge were now in the King’s hands; since the overthrow of Duke Robert’s fleet, they could look for no help from Normandy; they could look for none from yet more distant Bristol or Durham. Straits of the besieged. Till the siege began, they had lived at the cost of the loyal inhabitants of Kent and London. For not only the Archbishop, but most of the chief land-owners of Kent were on the King’s side.[215]

This is a point to be noticed amid the general falling away of the Normans. For the land-owners of Kent, a land where no Englishman was a tenant-in-chief, were a class preeminently Norman. But we can well believe that the rule of Odo, who spared neither French nor English who stood in his way,[216] may have been little more to the liking of his own countrymen than it was to that of the men of the land. But all chance of plunder was now cut off; a crowd of men and horses were packed closely together within the circuit of the fortress, with little heed to health or cleanliness. Plague of flies. Sickness was rife among them, and a plague of flies, a plague which is likened to the ancient plague of Egypt, added to their distress.[217]

There was no hope within their own defences, and beyond them a host lay spread which there was no chance of overcoming. At last the heart of Odo himself failed him. They agree to surrender. He and his fiercest comrades, Eustace of Boulogne, even Robert of Bellême, at last brought themselves to crave for peace at the hands of the offended and victorious King.

Lesson of the war: the King stronger than any one noble. It was a great and a hard lesson which Odo and his accomplices learned at Pevensey and Rochester. It was the great lesson of English history, the great result of the teaching of William the Great on the day of Salisbury, that no one noble, however great his power, however strong the force which he could gather round him, could strive with any hope of success against the King of the whole land. In the royal army itself Odo might see one who had risen as high as himself among the conquerors of England, the father of the fiercest of the warriors who stood beside him, following indeed the King’s bidding, but following it against his will. Odo and Roger of Montgomery. Roger of Montgomery was in the host before Rochester, an unwilling partner in a siege which was waged against his own sons. Both he and other Normans in the King’s army are charged with giving more of real help to the besieged than they gave to the King whom they no longer dared to withstand openly.[218] But it was in vain that even so great a lord as Earl Roger sought to strive or to plot against England and her King. The unity of England. The policy of the Conqueror, crowning the work of earlier kings, had made England a land in which no Earl of Kent or of Shrewsbury could gather a host able to withstand the King of the English at the head of the English people.[219] When the days came that kings were to be brought low, it was not by the might of this or that overgrown noble, but by the people of the land, with the barons of the land acting only as the first rank of the people. Those days were yet far away; but an earlier stage in the chain of progress had been reached. The Norman nobles had taken one step towards becoming the first rank of the English people, when they learned that King and people together were stronger than they.

Rufus refuses terms to the besieged. The defenders of Rochester had brought themselves to ask for peace; but they still thought that they could make terms with their sovereign. Let the King secure to them the lands and honours which they held in his kingdom, and they would give up the castle of Rochester to his will; they would hold all that they had as of his grant, and would serve him faithfully as their natural lord.[220] The wrath of the Red King burst forth, as well it might. Odo at least was asking at Rochester for more favourable terms than those to which he had already sworn at Pevensey. William answered that he would grant no terms; he had strength enough to take the castle, whether they chose to surrender it or not. The King’s threats.And the story runs that he added—not altogether in the spirit of his father—that all the traitors within the walls should be hanged on gibbets, or put to such other forms of death as might please him.[221] But those of his followers who had friends or kinsfolk within the castle came to the King to crave mercy for them. Pleadings for the besieged. A dialogue follows in our most detailed account, in which the scriptural reference to the history of Saul and David may be set down as the garnish of the monk of Saint Evroul, but which contains arguments that are likely enough to have been used on the two sides of the question. An appeal is made to William’s own greatness and victory, to his position as the successor of his father. God, who helps those who trust in him, gives to good fathers a worthy offspring to come after them. The men in the castle, the proud youths and the old men blinded by greediness, had learned that the power of kings had not died out in the island realm. Those who had come from Normandy—here we seem to hear an argument from English mouths—sweeping down upon the land like kites, they who had deemed that the kingly stock had died out in England, had learned that the younger William was in no way weaker than the elder.[222] Mercy was the noblest attribute of a conqueror; something too was due to the men who had helped him to his victory, and who now pleaded for those who had undergone enough of punishment for their error. Answer of the King. Rufus is made to answer that he is thankful both to God and to his faithful followers. But he fears that he should be lacking in that justice which is a king’s first duty, if he were to spare the men who had risen up against him without cause, and who had sought the life of a king who, as he truly said, had done them no harm.[223]

The Red King is made to employ the argument which we have so often come across on behalf of that severe discharge of princely duty which made the names of his father and his younger brother live in men’s grateful remembrance. He fears lest their prayers should lead him away from the strait path of justice. He who spares robbers and traitors and perjured persons takes away the peace and safety of the innocent, and only sows loss and slaughter for the good and for the unarmed people.[224] This course is one which the Red King was very far from following in after years; but it is quite possible that he may have made such professions at any stage of his life, and he may have even made them honestly at this stage. Pleadings for Odo. But on behalf of the chiefest of all culprits, the counsellors of mercy had special arguments. Odo is the King’s uncle, the companion of his father in the Conquest of England. He is moreover a bishop, a priest of the Lord, a sharer in the privileges to which, in one side of his twofold character, he had once appealed in vain. The King is implored not to lay hands on one of Odo’s holy calling, not to shed blood which was at once kindred and sacred. Let the Bishop of Bayeux at least be spared, and allowed to go back to his proper place in his Norman diocese.[225] Pleadings for Eustace and Robert of Bellême. Count Eustace too was the son of his father’s old ally and follower—the invasion which Eustace’s father had once wrought in that very shire seems to be conveniently forgotten.[226]

Robert of Bellême had been loved and promoted by his father; he held no small part of Normandy; lord of many strong castles, he stood out foremost among the nobles of the duchy.[227] It was no more than the bidding of prudence to win over such men by favours, and to have their friendship instead of their enmity.[228] As for the rest, they were valiant knights, whose proffered services the King would do well not to despise.[229] The King had shown how far he surpassed his enemies in power, riches, and valour; let him now show how far he surpassed them in mercy and greatness of soul.[230]

To this appeal Rufus yielded. The King yields. It was not indeed an appeal to his knightly faith, which was in no way pledged to the defenders of Rochester. But it was an appeal to any gentler feelings that might be in him, and still more so to that vein of self-esteem and self-exaltation which was the leading feature in his character. If Rufus had an opportunity of showing himself greater than other men, as neither justice nor mercy stood in the way of his making the most of it, so neither did any mere feeling of wrath or revenge. As his advisers told him, he was so successful that he could afford to be merciful, and merciful he accordingly was. To have hanged or blinded his enemies would not have so distinctly exalted himself, as he must have felt himself exalted, when those who had defied him, those who had tried to make terms with him, were driven to accept such terms as he chose to give them. He grants terms. The Red King then plighted his faith—and his faith when once so plighted was never broken—that the lives and limbs of the garrison should be safe, that they should come forth from the castle with their arms and horses. But they must leave the realm; they must give up all hope of keeping their lands and honours in England, as long at least as King William lived.[231] To these terms they had to yield; but Odo, even in his extremity, craved for one favour. Odo asks for the honours of war. He had to bear utter discomfiture, the failure of his hopes, the loss of his lands and honours; but he prayed to be at least spared the public scorn of the victors. His proud soul was not ready to bear the looks, the gestures, the triumphant shouts and songs, of the people whom he had trodden to the earth, and who had now risen up to be his conquerors. He asked, it would seem, to be allowed to march out with what in modern phrase are called the honours of war. His particular prayer was that the trumpets might not sound when he and his followers came forth from the castle. This, we are told, was the usual ceremony after the overthrow of an enemy and the taking of a fortress.[232]

The King was again wrathful at the request, and said that not for a thousand marks of gold would he grant it.[233] Humiliation of Odo. Odo had therefore to submit, and to drink the cup of his humiliation to the dregs. With sad and downcast looks he and his companions came forth from the stronghold which could shelter them no longer. The trumpets sounded merrily to greet them.[234] But other sounds more fearful than the voice of the trumpet sounded in the ears of Odo as he came forth. Men saw passing before them, a second time hurled down from his high estate—and this time not by the bidding of a Norman king but by the arms of the English people—the man who stood forth in English eyes as the imbodiment of all that was blackest and basest in the foreign dominion. Odo might keep his eyes fixed on the ground, but the eyes of the nation which he had wronged were full upon him. Wrath of the English against him. The English followers of Rufus pressed close upon him, crying out with shouts which all could hear, “Halters, bring halters; hang up the traitor Bishop and his accomplices on the gibbet.” They turned to the King whose throne they had made fast for him, and hailed him as a national ruler. “Mighty King of the English, let not the stirrer up of all evil go away unharmed. The perjured murderer, whose craft and cruelty have taken away the lives of thousands of men, ought not to live any longer.”[235] Cries like these, mingled with every form of cursing and reviling, with every threat which could rise to the lips of an oppressed people in their day of vengeance, sounded in the ears of Odo and his comrades.[236]

But the King’s word had been passed, and the thirst for vengeance of the wrathful English had to be baulked. He leaves England for ever. Odo and those who had shared with him in the defence of Rochester went away unhurt; but they had to leave England, and to lose all their English lands and honours, at least for a season. But Odo left England and all that he had in England for ever.[237] The career of the Earl of Kent was over; of the later career of the Bishop of Bayeux we shall hear again.

End of the rebellion. The rebellion was now at an end in southern England. Revolt had been crushed at Worcester, at Pevensey, and at Rochester, and we hear nothing more of those movements of which Bishop Geoffrey had made Bristol the centre, and which had met with such a reverse at the hands of the gallant defenders of Ilchester. The chronology of the whole time is very puzzling. Order of events. We have no exact date for the surrender of Rochester; we are told only that it happened in the beginning of summer.[238] But, as the siege of Pevensey lasted six weeks,[239] it is impossible The Whitsun Assembly. June 4, 1088.to crowd all the events which had happened since Easter into the time between Easter and Whitsuntide. Otherwise the pentecostal Gemót would have been the most natural season for some acts of authority which took place at some time during the year. The King was now in a position to reward and to punish; and some confiscations, some grants, Confiscations and grants.were made by him soon after the rebellion came to an end. “Many Frenchmen forlet their land and went over sea, and the King gave their land to the men that were faithful to him.”[240] Of these confiscations and grants we should be glad to have some details. Did any dispossessed Englishmen win back their ancient heritage? And, if so, did they keep their recovered heritage, notwithstanding the amnesty which at a somewhat later time restored many of the rebels? One thing is clear, that the Frenchmen who are now spoken of were not the men of highest rank and greatest estates among the rebellious Normans. For them there was an amnesty at once. Amnesty of the chief rebels. Them, we are told, the King spared, for the love of his father to whom they had been faithful followers, and out of reverence for their age which opened a speedy prospect of their deaths. He was rewarded, it is added, by their repentant loyalty and thankfulness, which made them eager to please him by gifts and service of all kinds.[241]

The speed with which some of the greatest among the rebel leaders were restored to their old rank and their old places in the King’s favour is shown by the way in which, within a very few months, we find them acting on the King’s side against one who at the worst was their own accomplice, and who himself professed to have had no part or lot in their doings. Versions of the story of the Bishop of Durham. We must now take up again the puzzling story of Bishop William of Durham. We left him, according to his own version, hindered from coming to the King by the violence of the Sheriff of Yorkshire, and suffering a seven weeks’ harrying of his lands which carries us into the month of May.[242] This is exactly the time when the national Chronicler sets the Bishop himself before us as carrying on a general harrying of the North country.[243] It is likely enough that both stories are true; in a civil war above all it is easy, without the assertion of any direct falsehood, to draw two exactly opposite pictures by simply leaving out the doings of each side in turn. Anyhow the King had summoned the Bishop to his presence, and the Bishop had not come. The King again summons the Bishop. The King now sends a more special and urgent summons, demanding the Bishop’s presence in his court, that is, in all likelihood, at the Whitsun Gemót, or at whatever assembly took its place for that year.[244] The message was sent by a prelate of high rank, that Abbot Guy who had just before been forced by Lanfranc upon the unwilling monks of Saint Augustine’s.[245] The Bishop was to accompany the Abbot to the King’s presence. The Bishop’s complaints. But, instead of going with Guy, Bishop William, fearing the King’s wrath and the snares of his enemies, sent another letter, the bearer of which went under the Abbot’s protection.[246] The letter curiously illustrates some of the features of the case. We learn more details of the Sheriff’s doings. Doings of Counts Alan and Odo. He had divided certain of the Bishop’s lands between two very great personages, Count Alan of the Breton and of the Yorkshire Richmond, and Count Odo, husband of the King’s aunt, and seemingly already lord of Holderness.[247] The Sheriff had not only refused the King’s peace to the Bishop; he had formally defied him on the part of the King.[248] Some of the Bishop’s men he had allowed to redeem themselves; but others he had actually sold. Were they the Bishop’s slaves, dealt with as forfeited chattels, or did the Sheriff take on himself to degrade freemen into slavery?[249] The Bishop protests that he is ready to come with a safe-conduct, and to prove before all the barons of the realm that he is wholly innocent of any crime against the King. He adds that he would willingly come at once with the Abbot. He had full faith in the King and his barons; but he feared his personal enemies and the unlearned multitude.[250] Who were these last? Are we again driven to think of the old popular character of the Assembly, and did the Bishop fear that the solemn proceedings of the King’s court would be disturbed by a loyal crowd, ready to deal out summary justice against any one who should be even suspected of treason? The Bishop comes with a safe-conduct. The King sent the safe-conduct that was asked for, and the Bishop came to the King’s court.[251]

The two Williams, King and Bishop, now met face to face. William of Saint-Calais pleaded his rights as a bishop as zealously, and far more fully, than they had been pleaded by the bishop who was also an earl. The Bishop’s ecclesiastical claims. The Bishop of Durham, as Bishop of Durham, held great temporal rights; but William of Saint-Calais was not, like his predecessor Walcher, personally earl of any earldom. Bishop William’s assertion of the new ecclesiastical claims reminds us of two more famous assemblies, in the earlier of which William of Saint-Calais will appear on the other side. In forming our estimate of the whole story, we must never forget that the man who surprised the Red King with claims greater than those of Anselm is the same man who a few years later became the counsellor of the Red King against Anselm. In this first Assembly the Bishop refuses to plead otherwise than according to the privileges of his order. The demand is refused. He craves for the counsel of his Metropolitan Thomas of York and of the other bishops. This also is refused. He offers to make his personal purgation on any charge of treason or perjury. This is refused. The King insists that he shall be tried before the Court after the manner of a layman. He goes back to Durham. This the Bishop refuses;[252] but the King keeps his personal faith, and the Bishop is allowed to go back safely to Durham. We hear much of the ravages done on the Bishop’s lands, both while he was away from Durham and after he had gone back thither.[253] Of ravages done by the Bishop we hear nothing in this version. In this version William of Saint-Calais, blackest of traitors in the Peterborough Chronicle, is still the meekest of confessors.

June-September, 1088. We get no further details of the Bishop of Durham’s story till the beginning of September. But in the meanwhile the Bishop wrote another letter to the King, again asking leave to make his purgation. The only answer, we are told, on the King’s part was to imprison the Bishop’s messenger and to lay waste his lands more thoroughly than ever. But, from the beginning of September, the story is told with great detail. By that time southern England at least was at peace, and by that time too men who had taken a leading part in the rebellion were acting as loyal subjects to the King. Agreement between the Bishop On the day of the Nativity of our Lady an agreement was come to between the Bishop and three of the barons of the North. Two of these were the Counts Alan and Odo, who had received grants of the Bishop’s lands. and the Counts. September 8. They, it seems clear, had had no share in the rebellion; but with them was joined a leading rebel, Roger of Poitou, son of the Earl of Shrewsbury, whom we last heard of as one of Odo’s accomplices at Pevensey. These three, acting in the King’s name, pledged their faith for the Bishop’s personal safety to and from the King’s court. The three barons seem to make themselves in some sort arbiters between the King and the Bishop. His personal safety is guaranteed in any case. But the place to which he is to be safely taken is to differ according to the result of the trial. The terms seem to imply that, if the three barons deem justice to be on the side of the Bishop, he is to be taken back safely to Durham, while, if they deem justice to be on the side of the King, he is to be allowed freely to cross the sea at any haven that he may choose, from Sandwich to Exeter.[254] In case of the Bishop’s return to Durham, if he should find that during his absence any new fortifications have been added to the castle, those fortifications are to be destroyed.[255] If, on the other hand, the Bishop crosses the sea, the castle is to be surrendered to the King. No agreement contrary to this present one was to be extorted from the Bishop on any pretext. The terms were agreed to by the Bishop, and were sworn to, as far as the surrender of the castle was concerned, by seven of the Bishop’s men, seemingly the same seven of whom we have heard before and of whom we shall hear again. All matters were to be settled in the King’s court one way or the other by the coming feast of Saint Michael; but, as this term was plainly too short, the time of meeting was put off by the consent of both sides to an early day in November.

The Meeting at Salisbury. November 2, 1088. On the appointed day Bishop William of Durham appeared in the King’s court at Salisbury. We have not now, as we had two years before, to deal with a gathering of all the land-owners of England in the great plain. The castle which had been reared within the ditches that fence in the waterless hill became the scene of a meeting of the King and the great men of the realm which may take its place alongside of later meetings of the same kind in the castle by the wood at Rockingham and in the castle by the busy streets of Northampton. We have—from the Bishop’s side only, it must be remembered—a minute and lifelike account of a two days’ debate in the Assembly, a debate in which not a few men with whose names we have been long familiar in our story, in which others whose names and possessions are written in the Great Survey, meet us face to face as living men and utter characteristic speeches in our ears. Urse of Abetot. We are met at the threshold by a well-known form, that of the terrible Sheriff of Worcestershire, Urse of Abetot. Notwithstanding the curse of Ealdred, he flourished and enjoyed court favour, and we now find him the first among the courtiers to meet Bishop William, and to bid him enter the royal presence.[256] That presence the Bishop entered four times in the course of the day, having had three times to withdraw while the Court came to a judgement on points of law touching his case. Conduct of the Bishop. At every stage the Bishop raises some point, renews some protest, interposes some delay or other. And during the whole earlier part of the debate, it is Lanfranc who takes the chief part in answering him; the King says little till a late stage of the controversy. Before Bishop William comes in to the King’s presence, he prays again, but prays in vain, to have the counsel of his brother bishops. None of them, not even his own Metropolitan Thomas, would give him the kiss of peace or even a word of greeting. When he does come in, he first raises the question whether he ought not to be judged, and the other bishops to judge him, in full episcopal dress. Lanfranc’s view of vestments. To the practical mind of Lanfranc questions about vestments did not seem of first-rate importance. “We can judge very well,” he said, “clothed as we are; for garments do not hinder truth.”[257] Case of Thomas at Northampton. 1164. This point, it will be remembered, again came up at Northampton, seventy-six years later. The entrance of Thomas into the King’s hall clad in the full garb of the Primate of all England was one of the most striking features of that memorable day.[258]

A long legal discussion followed, in which Bishop William and Lanfranc were the chief speakers. Some points were merely verbal. Much turned on the construction of the word bishopric. The Bishop of Durham asked to be restored to his bishopric. Lanfranc answered that he had not been disseized of it.[259] In the course of this dispute one or two facts of interest come out. Hostile dealings of the Bishop’s own men. It appears from the Bishop’s complaint that some of the chief men of the patrimony of Saint Cuthberht had made their way to the meeting at Salisbury, and that not as their bishop’s friends. They, his own liegemen, had abjured him; they held the lands of the bishopric in fief of the King; they had made war upon him by the King’s orders, and were now sitting as his judges.[260] The Bishop called on to “do right.” But the main point was that the Bishop should, before matters went any further, do right to the King, that is, acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Court.[261] This demand the Bishop tried to evade by every means; but it was firmly pressed both by Lanfranc and by the lay members of the Court. These last seem to act in close concert with the Primate, and the ecclesiastical writer brings out in a lively way the energy of their way of speaking.[262] In answer to them the Bishop spake words which amounted to a casting aside of all the earlier jurisprudence of England, but which were only a natural inference from that act of the Conqueror which had severed the jurisdictions which ancient English custom had joined together. He denies the authority of the Court. He told the barons of the realm and the other laymen who were present that with them he had nothing to do, that he altogether refused their jurisdiction; he demanded, that, if the King and the Bishops allowed them to be present, they should at least not speak against him.[263] Growth of the new doctrines. The doctrine of ecclesiastical privilege had indeed grown, since, six and thirty years before, the people of England, gathered beneath the walls of London, had declared a traitorous archbishop to be deprived and outlawed, and had by their own act set another in his place. Position of Lanfranc and Bishop William. Yet the position of William of Saint-Calais was more consistent than the position of Lanfranc. William of Saint-Calais wholly denied the right of laymen to judge a bishop; Lanfranc, the assertor of that right, had been placed in his see on the very ground that the deposition of Robert and the election of Stigand were both invalid, as being merely acts of the secular power. Still, however logical might be the Bishop’s argument, his claims were practically new, either in English or in Norman ears. If they had ever been heard of before, it had been only for a moment from the lips of Odo. And we may mark again that, though the words of William of Saint-Calais would have won him favour with Hildebrand, they won him no favour with Lanfranc. Lanfranc represented the traditions of the Conqueror, and in the days of the Conqueror, all things, divine and human, had depended on the Conqueror’s nod.[264]

The King speaks. At this stage the King speaks for the first time, and, in this first speech the words of William the Red are mild enough. He had hoped, he said, that the Bishop would have first made answer to the charges which had been brought against him, and he wondered that he had taken any other course. But the charge had not yet been formally made. Roger Bigod demands that the charge be read. Amid the Bishop’s protests about the rights of his order, this somewhat important point was pressed by one of his fellow-rebels. This was Roger the Bigod, he who from the castle of Norwich had done such harm in the eastern lands, but who now appears as an adviser of the king against whom he had been fighting a few months before. Let the charge, he said, be brought in due form, and let the Bishop be tried according to it.[265] After more protests from the Bishop, the charge was made by Hugh of Beaumont.[266] The charge formally brought. It contained a full statement of the Bishop’s treason and desertion, as already described,[267] and the time is said to have been when the King’s enemies came against him, and when his own men, Bishop Odo, Earl Roger, and many others, strove to take away his crown and kingdom.[268] It is demanded that, on this charge and on any other charges that the King may afterwards bring, the Bishop shall abide by the sentence of the King’s court. We have this statement only in the version of Bishop William himself or of a local partisan. Its probable truth. Yet there is no reason to doubt that it is a fair representation of the formal charge which was brought in the King’s court. That charge brings out quite enough of overt acts of treason to justify even the strong words of the Peterborough Chronicler.[269] With the secret counsels of the rebels during Lent it does not deal; what share Bishop William had had in them might be hard to make out by legal proof, and the charge is quite enough for the King’s purpose without them. But it brings out this special aggravation of the Bishop’s guilt, that, after the rebellion had broken out, after military operations had begun, the Bishop was still at the King’s side, counselling action while he was himself plotting desertion. The flight of Bishop William, as we have already told it, really reads not unlike the flight of Cornbury and Churchill just six centuries later; and it would be pressing the judgement of charity a long way to plead in his behalf the doctrine that in revolutions men live fast.[270] Points not dwelled on. We may notice also that nothing is said about the Bishop’s harryings in Northern England. They might, according to the custom of the time, be almost taken as implied in the fact of his rebellion; or they might be among the other charges which the King had ready to bring forward if he thought good.

The Bishop’s answer. The formal charge was thus laid before the Court, and it was for the Bishop to make his answer. It was the same as before. Hugh of Beaumont might say what he chose;[271] only according to his own ideas of canonical rule would he answer. By this time the wrath of the lay members of the Assembly was waxing hot; Wrath of the lay members. they assailed the Bishop, some, we are told, with arguments, some with revilings.[272] At this stage Bishop William found a friend where we should hardly have looked for one. Speech of Bishop Geoffrey on behalf of William. The brigand Bishop of Coutances, already changed from a rebel into a loyal subject, was there among the great men of the realm. England knew him, not as a prelate of the Church, but as one of the greatest of her land-owners; but now, like Odo, he speaks as a bishop. He appeals to the Archbishops at least to give a hearing to Bishop William’s objection. They, the bishops and abbots, ought no longer to sit there; they ought to withdraw, taking with them some lay assessors, to discuss the point raised by the Bishop of Durham, whether he ought not to be restored to his bishopric before he is called on to plead.[273] Answer of Lanfranc. Again the great ecclesiastical statesman is inclined to scorn, almost to mock, the scruples of lesser men. Canonical subtleties might disturb the conscience of a bishop who had a few months before headed a band of robbers; but the lawyer of Pavia, the teacher of Avranches, the monk of Bec, the Abbot of Saint Stephen’s, the Patriarch of all the nations beyond the sea, had learned, in his long experience, that, as changes of vestments did not greatly matter, so changes of place and procedure did not greatly matter either. As Lanfranc had told Bishop William that they could judge perfectly well in the clothes which they then had on, so now he tells Bishop Geoffrey that they can judge perfectly well in the place and company in which they were now sitting. The Bishop goes out. There was no need to rise; let the Bishop of Durham and his men go out, and the rest of the Court, clergy and laity alike, would judge what was right to be done.[274] The Bishop warned the Court to act according to the canons, and to let no one judge who might not canonically judge a bishop. Lanfranc calmly, but vaguely, assured him that justice would be done.[275] Defiance of Hugh of Beaumont. Hugh of Beaumont told him more plainly, “If I may not to-day judge you and your order, you and your order shall never afterwards judge me.”[276] With one more protest, one more declaration that he would disown any judgement which was not strictly canonical,[277] Bishop William and his followers left the hall of meeting.

Debate in the Bishop’s absence. Our only narrative of these debates, the narrative of Bishop William himself or of some one writing under his inspiration, complains of the long delay before the Bishop was allowed to come back, and gives a description, one which reads like satire, of the assembly which stayed to debate the preliminary point of law. Constitution of the Court. There was the King, with the bishops and earls, the sheriffs and the lesser reeves, with the King’s huntsmen and other officials.[278] The great officers of state, Justiciar, Chancellor, Treasurer, had not yet risen to their full importance; still it is odd to find them, as they would seem to be, thrust in, after the manner of an et cetera, after, it may be, Osgeat the reeve and Croc the huntsman.[279] But anyhow, in this purely official assembly, we may surely see the Theningmannagemót gradually changing into the Curia Regis.[280] The Court, however constituted, debated in the Bishop’s absence on the point of the law which he had raised. The Bishop comes back. On his return, his own Metropolitan, Thomas of York, announced to him the decision of the Assembly. Till he acknowledged the jurisdiction of the Court, the King was not bound to restore anything that had been taken from him. Debate on the word fief. We seem to hear the voice of Flambard, when, in announcing this decision, Thomas makes use of the word fief, which had not hitherto been heard in the discussion.[281] Bishop William catches in vain at the novelty; Archbishop Thomas declines all verbal discussion; whether it is called bishopric or fief, nothing is to be restored till the jurisdiction of the court is acknowledged.[282] Thus baffled, Bishop William has only to fall back on his old protests, his old demand for the counsel of his brother bishops. Lanfranc meets him as a lawyer; the bishops are his judges, and therefore cannot be his counsel.[283] The King now steps in; the Bishop may take counsel with his own men, but he shall have no counsel from any man of his.[284] The Bishop’s seven men. The Bishop answers that, in the seven men whom he has with him—clearly the same seven of whom we have twice heard already—he will find but little help against the power and learning of the whole realm which he sees arrayed against him.[285] He goes out the second time. But he gets no further help; he withdraws the second time for consultation, but it is only with the seven men of his own following.

The result of their secret debate suggests that Bishop William in truth took counsel with no one but himself. Surely no seven men of English or Norman birth could have been found to suggest the course which William of Saint-Calais now took. For he came back to utter words which must have sounded strange indeed either in English or in Norman ears. He comes back and appeals to Rome. “The judgement which has here been given I reject, because it is made against the canons and against our law; nor was I canonically summoned; but I stand here compelled by the force of the King’s army, and despoiled of my bishopric, beyond the bounds of my province, in the absence of all my comprovincial bishops. I am compelled to plead my cause in a lay assembly; and my enemies, who refuse me their counsel and speech and the kiss of peace, laying aside the things which I have said, judge me of things which I have not said; and they are at once accusers and judges; and I find it forbidden in our law to admit such a judgement as I in my folly was willing to admit.[286] The Archbishop of Canterbury and my own Primate ought, out of regard for God and our order, to save me of their good will from this encroachment. Because then, through the King’s enmity, I see you all against me, I appeal to the Apostolic See of Rome, to the Holy Church, and to the Blessed Peter and his Vicar, that he may take order for a just sentence in my affair; for to his disposition the ancient authority of the Apostles and their successors and of the canons reserves the greater ecclesiastical causes and the judgement of bishops.”[287]

Character of the appeal. Such an appeal as this was indeed going to the root of the matter. It was laying down the rule against which Englishmen had yet to strive for more than four hundred years. William of Saint-Calais not only declared that there were causes with which no English tribunal was competent to deal, but he laid down that among such causes were to be reckoned all judgements where any bishop—if not every priest—was an accused party. Bishop William could not even claim that, as one charged with an ecclesiastical offence, he had a right to appeal to the highest ecclesiastical judge. Even such a claim as this was a novelty either in Normandy or in England; but William of Saint-Calais was not charged with any ecclesiastical offence. Except so far as the indictment involved the charge of perjury, that debateable ground of the two jurisdictions, the offence laid to the Bishop’s charge was a purely temporal one, that of treason against his lord the King. So arraigned, he refuses the judgement of the King of the English and his Witan, and appeals from them to the Bishop of Rome. He justifies his appeal by referring to some law other than the law of England, some special law of his own order, by which, he alleges, he is forbidden to submit to any such judgements as that of the national assembly of the realm of which he is a subject. We again instinctively ask, how would William the Great have dealt with such an appeal, if any man had been so hardy as to make it in his hearing? But we again see how the ecclesiastical system which William the Great had brought in was one which needed his own mighty hand to guide.[288] He was indeed, in all causes and over all persons, ecclesiastical and temporal, within his dominions supreme. But the moment he himself was gone, that great supremacy seems to have fallen in pieces. Arguments of Lanfranc. Lanfranc himself, steadily as he maintains the royal authority throughout the dispute, seems to shrink from boldly grappling with the Bishop’s claim. Some lesser fallacies we are not surprised to find passed over. The daring statement that the sole right of the Bishop of Rome to judge other bishops was established by the Apostles may perhaps have seemed less strange even to Lanfranc than it does to us. William’s comprovincials. But Lanfranc must have smiled, and Thomas of York must have smiled yet more, at the Bishop of Durham’s grotesque complaint that he was deprived of the help of his comprovincial bishops.[289] It was a vain hope indeed, if he thought that King Malcolm would allow him the comfort of any brotherly counsel from Glasgow or Saint Andrews. But the real point is that Lanfranc seems to avoid giving any direct answer to Bishop William’s claim to appeal to a court beyond the sea. Instead of stoutly denying the right of any English subject to appeal to any foreign power from the judgement of the highest court in England, he falls back into Bishop William’s own subtleties about “fief” and “bishopric;” and he appeals to the case of Odo, where it was only the Earl and not the Bishop who was dealt with.[290] The verbal question goes on, till the Bishop declares that he has no skill to dispute against the wisdom of Lanfranc; he has been driven to appeal to the apostolic see, and he wishes to have the leave of the King and the Archbishop to go to the see to which he has appealed.[291] The Bishop goes out the third time. A third time does he, at Lanfranc’s bidding, leave the hall while this question is debated by the King and his council. On his return the final sentence is pronounced by the mouth of Hugh of Beaumont. He comes back, and sentence is pronounced.As the Bishop has refused to answer the charges brought against him by the King, as he invites the King to a tribunal at Rome, the Bishop’s fief is declared forfeited by the judgement of the King’s court and the barons. It really says a good deal for the long-suffering of the prelates and barons, and of the Red King himself, He renews his appeal. that Bishop William again ventured to make his appeal in more offensive terms than before. He is ready, in any place where justice reigns and not violence, to purge himself of all charges of crime and perjury. He will prove in the Roman Church that the judgement which has just been pronounced is false and unjust.[292] Hugh of Beaumont is driven to a retort; “I and my companions are ready to confirm our judgement in this court.” The Bishop again declares that he will enter into no pleadings in that court. Let him speak never so well, his words are perverted by the King’s partisans. They have no respect for the apostolic authority, and, even after he has made his appeal, they load him with an unjust judgement. He will go to Rome to seek the help of God and of Saint Peter.[293]

Up to this time the King has taken only a secondary part in the lively dispute which has been going on in his presence. We have listened chiefly to the pithy sayings of Lanfranc and to the official utterances of Hugh of Beaumont. Speeches of the King. But now Rufus himself steps in as a chief speaker, and that certainly in a characteristic strain. His patience had borne a good deal, but it was now beginning to give way. The King’s short and pointed sentences, uttered, we must remember, with a fierce look and a stammering tongue, are a marked contrast to the long-turned periods and legal subtleties of the Bishop. He now steps into the dispute from a very practical side; “My will is that you give me up your castle, as you will not abide by the sentence of my court.”[294] More distinctions, more protests, more appeals to Rome, only stir up the Red King to the use of his familiar oath; “By the face of Lucca, you shall never go out of my hands till I have your castle.”[295] The Bishop was now fairly in the mouth of the lion; yet he again goes through the whole story of his wrongs and his innocence, with some particulars which we have not hitherto heard. When his possessions were seized by the King’s officers, though a hundred of his own knights looked on, no resistance had been offered to the King’s will.[296] He had now nothing left but his episcopal city; if the King wished to take that, he would offer no resistance, save by the power of God. He would only warn him, on behalf of God and Saint Peter and his Vicar the Pope, not to take it. He would give hostages and sureties that, while he went to Rome, his own men should keep the castle, and that, if the King wished, they should keep it for his service.[297] The King again spoke; “Be sure, Bishop, that you shall never go to Durham, nor shall your men hold Durham, nor shall you escape my hands, unless you freely give up the castle to me.”[298] The Bishop appeals to Counts Odo and Alan. The Bishop now for once says not a word about canonical rights; he appeals, more shortly and more prudently, to the plighted faith of the two Counts who had promised that he should go back to Durham. But Lanfranc argues that the Bishop has forfeited his safe-conduct, and that, if he refuses to give up the castle, the King may rightly arrest him.[299] Cries of the lay members. At this hint the lay members of the Assembly joined in with one voice, the foremost among them being that Randolf Peverel of whose possessions and supposed kindred we have had elsewhere to speak.[300] “Take him,” was the cry, “take him; for that old gaoler speaks well.”[301] But at this stage the Bishop finds friends in the Counts whose faith had been pledged to his safe-conduct. Intervention of Count Alan. Count Alan formally states the terms of the agreement, and prays the King—Odo and Roger joining with him in the prayer—that he may not be forced to belie his faith, as otherwise the King should have no further service from him.[302] But in Lanfranc’s view the second of the two cases which were contemplated in the agreement had taken place. The King was not bound to let the Bishop go back to Durham; all that he was now bound to do was to give him ships and a safe-conduct out of the realm.[303] The dispute goes on in the usual style. The Bishop appeals yet again. The Bishop continues his appeal to Rome; he again invokes what he calls specially the Christian law, pointing, it would seem, to a volume in his own hand;[304] while Lanfranc asserts the authority of the King’s court.[305] The King then steps in with one of his short speeches; “You may say what you will, but you shall not escape my hands, unless you first give up the castle to me.”[306] The Bishop then makes a shorter protest than usual, the drift of which seems to be that he is ready to suffer any loss rather than be personally arrested.[307] The final sentence. The sentence of the Court is now finally passed. A day is fixed by which the Bishop’s men should leave the city of Durham and the King’s men take possession of it instead.[308]

The judgement of the Assembly had thus formally gone against the claims of the Bishop of Durham; but his The Bishop asks for an allowance.resources were not at an end. Defeated on all points of law, he makes an appeal to the King’s generosity. Will his lord the King, he now prays, leave him something from his bishopric on which he may at least be able to live? Lanfranc again answers; “Shall you go to Rome, Answer of Lanfranc.to the King’s hurt and to the dishonour of all of us, and shall the King leave lands to you? Stay in his land, and he will give back to you all your bishopric, except the city, on the one condition that you do right to him in his court by the judgement of his barons.”[309] Bishop William, almost parodying the words of a much earlier appeal to Rome, says that he has appealed to the Apostolic See, and to the Apostolic See he will go.[310] Lanfranc retorts; “If you go to Rome without the King’s leave, we will tell him what he ought to do with your bishopric.” Bishop William answers in a long speech, renewing his protests of innocence and his offers of purgation, and setting forth the services which he claimed to have done for the King at Dover, Hastings, and London. The Bishop many times makes his prayer, and the King as often refuses. Then Lanfranc counsels him to throw himself wholly on the King’s mercy; if he will do so, he himself will plead for him at the King’s feet. But the Bishop still goes on about the authority of the canons and the honour of the Church; he will earnestly pray for the King’s mercy, but he will accept no uncanonical judgement. The King’s offers. The King then makes a new proposal; “Let the Bishop give me sureties that he will do nought to my hurt on this side the sea, and that neither my brother nor any of my brother’s men shall keep the ships which I shall provide to my damage or against the will of their crews.”[311] It certainly was demanding a good deal to expect Bishop William to go surety for either the will or the power of Duke Robert to do or to hinder anything. The Bishop pleads that the Counts pledged their faith that he should not be obliged to enter into any agreement except the one which had been made at Durham. The King and Ralph Paganel. And the Sheriff of Yorkshire, Ralph Paganel, the same who had been the spoiler of the Bishop’s goods, bears witness that his claim was a just one.[312] By this time the wrath of the Red King was gradually kindling; he turns on the Sheriff with some sharpness; “Hold your peace; for no surety will I endure to lose my ships; but if the Bishop will give this surety which I ask, I will ask for no other.”[313]

The Bishop falls back on his old plea; he will enter into no agreement save that into which he entered with the Counts. The King again swears by the face of Lucca that the Bishop shall not cross the sea that year, unless he gives the required surety for the ships.[314] The Bishop then protests that, rather than be arrested, he will give the surety and more than the surety which is demanded; but he calls all men to witness that he does this unwillingly and through fear of arrest.[315] He gives the surety, and another stage in the long debate ends.

Question of the safe-conduct. A new point, happily the last, was raised when the Bishop, having given the required surety, asked for ships and a safe-conduct. The King says that he shall have them as soon as the castle of Durham is in the King’s power; till then, he shall have no safe-conduct, but shall stay at Wilton.[316] He again meekly protests; he will endure the wrong against which he has no means of striving.[317] Then a man of Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances steps in with a new count. Charges against the Bishop’s men. The men who held the Bishop of Durham’s castle had—before the Bishop came to the King’s court; therefore, it might be inferred, with his knowledge—taken two hundred beasts belonging to the Bishop of Coutances which were under the King’s safe-conduct. Bishop Geoffrey had surely seen more than two hundred beasts brought into Bristol as the spoil of loyal men in Somerset, Gloucestershire, and Wiltshire; but he is careful to exact the redress of his own loss from his brother bishop and rebel. The men of the Bishop of Durham had refused to pay the price of the beasts; they refused even when Walter of Eyncourt—we have met him in Lincolnshire[318]—bade them do so in the King’s name; he William, the man of Bishop Geoffrey, demands that the price be paid to his lord.[319] The King puts it to the barons whether he can implead the Bishop on this charge also.[320] Interposition of Lanfranc on behalf of the Bishop. Lanfranc, for the first time helping his brother prelate, rules that this cannot be done. Bishop William cannot be impleaded any further, because he now holds nothing of the King—the surrender of the castle of Durham is thus held to be already made—and is entitled to the King’s safe-conduct.[321] The Bishop to leave England. The Assembly now breaks up for the day; the Bishop is to choose the haven from which he will sail, and to make known his choice on the morrow.

The next day the Court again comes together. The Bishop of Durham asks Count Alan to find him a haven and ships at Southampton. Conditions of the Bishop’s sailing. The King steps in; “Know well, Bishop, that you shall never cross the channel till I have your castle”—adding, with a remembrance of the doings of another prelate at Rochester—“for the Bishop of Bayeux made me smart with that kind of thing.”[322] If the castle of Durham was in the King’s hands by the fixed day, the fourteenth day of November, the Bishop should have the ships and the safe-conduct without further delay. November 21,1088. The King then bids Count Alan and the Sheriff Gilbert[323] to give the Bishop at Southampton such ships as might be needful for his voyage seven days after the day fixed for the surrender of the castle. November 14. Meanwhile, on the appointed day, the castle of Durham was received into the King’s hands by Ivo Taillebois and Erneis of Burun—names with which we have long been familiar.[324] They disseized the Bishop of his church and castle and all his land; but they gave to the Bishop’s men a writ under the King’s seal, promising the most perfect safety to the Bishop and his men through all England and in their voyage.[325] And, according to the most obvious meaning of the narrative, Heppo, the King’s balistarius—a man of whom, like Ivo Taillebois, we have heard in Lincolnshire—was put into their hands as surety for the observance of the safe-conduct.

It might have seemed that the Bishop’s troubles were now ended, so far as they could be ended by leaving the land which he professed to look on as a land of persecution.

But a crowd of hindrances were put in the way of his voyage. Action of Ivo Taillebois. Notwithstanding the safe-conduct given to the Bishop’s men, a number of wrongs were done to them by Ivo Taillebois, whose conduct may be thought to bear out his character as drawn in the legendary history of Crowland. The great grievance was that in defiance—so men thought at Durham—of Lanfranc’s judgement that Bishop William was not bound to plead in the matter of the beasts taken from the Bishop of Coutances, two of his knights were forced to plead on that charge.[326] November 21. Meanwhile the day came which had been appointed for the Bishop’s voyage. He had been waiting at Wilton, under the care of a certain Robert of Conteville, who had been assigned, at his own request, to keep him from all harm.[327] The Bishop’s voyage delayed. The castle had been duly given up; all seemed ready for his crossing. Bishop William asked the Sheriff Gilbert and his guardian Robert for ships, to cross in the company of Robert of Mowbray.[328] Under orders from the King,[329] November 26. they kept him for five days longer, when Robert of Conteville took him to Southampton. The wind was favourable, and the Bishop craved for leave to set sail at once. The King’s officers forbade him to sail that day; the next day, when the wind had become contrary, they, seemingly in mockery, gave him leave to sail. Charge against the monk Geoffrey. While he waited for a favourable wind, a new charge was brought against him, founded on the alleged doings of one of his monks, Geoffrey by name, of whom we shall afterwards hear as being in his special confidence. By the sentence of forfeiture pronounced by the Court, all the Bishop’s goods had become the property of the Crown. It was therefore deemed an invasion of the King’s rights when, after the Bishop had gone to the King’s court, Geoffrey took a large number of beasts from the Bishop’s demesne. He had also taken away part of the garrison of the castle, who had killed a man of the King’s. New summons against the Bishop. On this charge Bishop William was summoned to appear in the King’s court at the Christmas Gemót to be held in London. One of the bearers of the summons was no less famous a man than Bishop Osmund of Salisbury, a man of a local reputation almost saintly.[330] His argument with Osmund. Bishop William again appeals to the old agreement; he protests his innocence of any share in the acts of Geoffrey, though he adds that he might lawfully have done what he would with his own up to the moment when he was formally disseized.[331] These words might seem to imply that the act of Geoffrey, though done after the Bishop had left Durham, was done before the sentence was finally pronounced. But he cannot go to the King’s court; he has nothing left; he has eaten his horses; that is seemingly their price.[332] He is still repeatedly forbidden to cross, even alone.[333] In answer to an earnest message that he might be allowed to go to Rome, The Bishop again summoned by Walkelin. the King sent Walkelin Bishop of Winchester with two companions, one of them Hugh of Port, a well-known Domesday name, to summon him to send Geoffrey for trial to Durham and to appear himself in London at the Christmas Gemót to answer for the deeds of his men.[334] In defiance of all prayers and protests, the King’s officers kept the Bishop in ward night and day; in his sadness he sent a message to the Counts who had given him the safe-conduct, praying them by the faith of their baptism to have him released from his imprisonment and allowed to cross the sea.[335] Interposition of the Counts. They answered his appeal. At their urgent prayer, the King at last let him cross. He at last crosses to Normandy. He sailed to Normandy, where he was honourably received by Duke Robert, and—so the Durham writer believed—entrusted with the care of his whole duchy.[336] Perhaps it was owing to these new worldly cares that, though we often hear of him again, we do not hear of him as a suppliant at the court of Rome.

Importance of the story of William of Saint-Calais. The tale of Bishop William of Durham is long, perhaps in some of its stages it is wearisome; but it is too important a contribution to our story to be left out or cut short. It sets before us the earliest of those debates in the King’s court of which we shall come across other memorable examples before the reign of Rufus is over. Illustrations of jurisprudence. We see the forms and the spirit of the jurisprudence of England in the days immediately following the Norman Conquest, a jurisprudence which, both in its forms and its spirit, has become strongly technical, but which still has not yet become the exclusive possession of a professional class. Bishops, earls, sheriffs, are still, as of old, learned in the law, and are fully able to carry on a legal discussion in their own persons. And we see that a legal discussion in those days could be carried out with a good deal of freedom of speech on all sides. Legal trickery of the Bishop. As to the matter of the debate, all that we know of Bishop William, both afterwards and at this time from other sources, can leave hardly any doubt that he was simply availing himself of every legal subtlety, of every pretended ecclesiastical privilege, in order to escape a real trial in which he knew that he would have no safe ground on the merits of the case. Reasons for proceeding against him. And, if it be asked why the Bishop of Durham should have been picked out for legal prosecution, while his accomplices were forgiven and were actually sitting as his judges, the answer is to be found in the circumstances of the case. As we read the tale in all other accounts, as we read of it in the formal charge brought by Hugh of Beaumont, we see that there was a special treachery in Bishop William’s rebellion which distinguished his case from that of all other rebels. Why he should have joined the revolt at all, how he could expect that any change could make him greater than he already was, is certainly a difficulty; but the fact seems certain, and, if it be true, it quite accounts for the special enmity with which he was now pursued. The idea of the Bishop which the story conveys to us is that of a subtle man, full of resources, well able to counterfeit innocence, and to employ the highest ecclesiastical claims as a means to escape punishment for a civil crime. The first appeal to Rome made by William of Saint-Calais. It was from the mouth of William of Saint-Calais that, for the first time as far as we can see, men who were English by birth or settlement heard the doctrine that the King of the English had a superior on earth, that the decrees of the Witan of England could be rightly appealed from to a foreign power. The later career of the Bishop makes him a strange champion of any such teaching. The largest charity will not allow us to give him credit for the pure single-mindedness of Anselm, or even for the conscious self-devotion of Thomas. We feel throughout that he is simply using every verbal technicality in order to avoid any discussion of the real facts. A trial and conviction would hardly have brought with them any harsher punishment than the forfeiture and banishment which he actually underwent. But it made a fairer show in men’s eyes to undergo forfeiture and banishment in the character of a persecuted confessor than to undergo the same amount of loss in the character of a convicted traitor.

Behaviour of Lanfranc; The part played by Lanfranc is eminently characteristic. Practically he maintains the royal supremacy on every point; but he makes no formal declaration which could commit him to anti-papal theories. of the King. As for William Rufus, one is really inclined for a long while to admire his patience through a discussion which must have been both wearisome and provoking, rather than to feel any wonder that, towards the end of the day, he begins to break out into somewhat stronger language. But in the latter part of the story, like Henry the Second but unlike Henry the First, he stoops from his own thoroughly good position. He shows a purpose to take every advantage however mean, and to crush the Bishop in any way, fair or foul. So at least it seems in our story; but one would like to hear the other side, as one is unwilling to fancy either Bishop Walkelin or Bishop Osmund directly lending himself to sheer palpable wrong. The lesser actors. But, after all, not the least attractive part of the story is the glimpse which it gives us of the lesser actors, some of them men of whom we know from other sources the mere names and nothing more. We feel brought nearer to the real life of the eleventh century every time that we are admitted to see a Domesday name becoming something more than a name, to see Ralph Paganel, Hugh of Port, and Heppo the Balistarius playing their parts in an actual story. The short sharp speeches put into the mouths of some of the smaller actors, as well as those which are put into the mouth of the King, both add to the liveliness of the story and increase our faith in its trustworthiness. Conduct of the laity, As in some other pictures of the kind, the laity, both the great men and the general body, stand out on the whole in favourable colours. not favourable to the Bishop. It is perfectly plain, from Bishop William’s own words,[337] that he had not, like Anselm and Thomas, the mass of the people on his side. It is equally plain that the majority of the assembly, though they certainly gave him a fair hearing, were neither inclined to his cause nor convinced by his arguments. And the conduct of the Counts Alan and Odo and their companion Roger of Poitou is throughout that of strictly honourable men, anxious to carry out to the letter every point to which they have pledged their faith. The Red King, having merely pledged his faith as a king, and not in that more fantastic character in which he always held his plighted word as sacred, is less scrupulous on this head.

The affair of Bishop William brings us almost to the last days of the year of the rebellion. But, much earlier in the year, events of some importance had been happening in other parts of the island. No recorded movement in Scotland. We are almost tempted to take for granted that so great a stir in northern England as that which accompanied the banishment of the Bishop of Durham must have been accompanied or followed by some action on the part of King Malcolm of Scotland. None such however is spoken of. Movements in Wales. But the stirs on the Western border had been taken advantage of by the enemies of England on that side. We have seen that British allies played a part on the side of the rebels in the attack on Worcester. Further north, independent Britons deemed that the time was come for a renewal of the old border strife. When Earl Hugh of Chester and the Marquess Robert of Rhuddlan took opposite sides in a civil war, it was indeed an inviting moment for any of the neighbouring Welsh princes. The time seems to have been one of even more confusion than usual among the Britons. State of Wales. The year after the death of the Conqueror is marked in their annals as a special time of civil warfare, in which allies were brought by sea from Scotland and Ireland. Rhys restored by a fleet from Ireland. Rhys the son of Tewdwr, of whom we have already heard,[338] was driven from his kingdom by the sons of Bleddyn, and won it again by the help of a fleet from Ireland.[339] Men were struck by the vast rewards in money and captives with which he repaid his naval allies, who are spoken of as if some of them were still heathens.[340] These movements are not recorded by any English or Norman writer, nor do the Welsh annals record the event with which Norman and English feeling was more deeply concerned. But there was clearly a connexion between the two. Gruffydd the son of Cynan appears in the British annals as an ally of the restored Rhys,[341] Gruffydd’s Irish allies. and we now find a King Gruffydd, not only carrying slaughter by land into the English territory, but appearing in the more unusual character of the head of a seafaring expedition. We may feel pretty sure that it was the presence of the allies from Ireland—both native Irish, it would seem, and Scandinavian settlers—which combined with the disturbed state of England to lead Gruffydd to a frightful inroad on the lands of the most cruel enemy of the Britons, the Marquess Robert. He attacks Rhuddlan. The Welsh King and his allies marched as far as the new stronghold of Rhuddlan; they burned much and slew many men, and carried off many prisoners, doubtless for the Irish slave-market.[342] It was clearly through this doubtless far more profitable raid on the English territory that Rhys and Gruffydd found the means of rewarding their Irish and Scandinavian allies.

Robert of Rhuddlan. This inroad took place while the civil war in England was going on,[343] a war in which it must be remembered that other British warriors had borne their part.[344] While the lands of Rhuddlan were wasted, the Marquess Robert was busy far away at the siege of Rochester. His probable change of party. This would make us think that, like Earl Roger, he changed sides early,[345] and that he was now in the royal camp, helping to besiege Odo and his accomplices. He returns to North Wales. After the surrender of Rochester, the news of the grievous blow which had been dealt to himself and his lands brought Robert back to North Wales, wrathful and full of threats.[346] The enemy must by this time have withdrawn from the neighbourhood of Rhuddlan; for we now hear of the Marquess in the north-western corner of the land which he had brought under his rule. The peninsula of Dwyganwy. He was now in the peninsula which ends to the north in that vast headland which, like the other headland which ends the peninsula of Gower to the west, bears the name of the Orm’s Head.[347] The mountain itself, thick set with remains which were most likely ancient when Suetonius passed by to Mona, forms a strong contrast to the flat ground at its foot which stretches southward towards the tidal mouth of the Conwy. But that flat ground is broken by several isolated hills, once doubtless, like the Head itself, islands. Of these the two most conspicuous, two peaks of no great height but of marked steepness and ruggedness, rise close together, one almost immediately above the Conwy shore, the other landwards behind it. They are in fact two peaks of a single hill, with a dip between the two, as on the Capitoline hill of Rome. Here was the old British stronghold of Dwyganwy, The castle of Dwyganwy. famous in early times as the royal seat of Maelgwyn, him who is apostrophized in the lament of Gildas by the name of the dragon—the worm—of the island.[348] That stronghold had now passed into the hands of the Marquess Robert, and had been by him strengthened with all the newly imported skill of Normandy. The castle of Dwyganwy plays a part in every Welsh war during the next two centuries, and we can hardly fancy that much of Robert’s work survives in the remains of buildings which are to be traced on both peaks and in the dip between them. But it is likely that at all times the habitable part of the castle lay between the two peaks, while the peaks themselves formed merely military defences. Robert at Dwyganwy. Here then Robert was keeping his head-quarters in the opening days of July. At noon on one of the summer days the Marquess was sleeping—between the peaks, we may fancy, whether in any building or in the open air. He was roused from his slumber by stirring tidings. Approach of Gruffydd. July 3, 1088. King Gruffydd, at the head of three ships, had entered the mouth of the Conwy; he had brought his ships to anchor; his pirate crews had landed and were laying waste the country. The tide ebbed; the ships stood on the dry land; the followers of Gruffydd spread themselves far and wide over the flat country, and carried prisoners and cattle to their ships.[349] The Marquess rose; he climbed the height immediately above him, a height which looks on the flat land, the open sea, the estuary now crowned on the other side by Conwy with its diadem of towers, over the inland hills, and on the Orm’s Head itself rising in the full view to the northward. He saw beneath him a sight which might have stirred a more sluggish soul. As King Henry had looked down on the slaughter of his troops at Varaville,[350] so Robert, from his fortified post of Dwyganwy, saw his men carried off in bonds and thrown into the ships along with the sheep.[351] Eagerness of Robert. He sent forth orders for a general gathering, and made ready for an attack on the plunderers at the head of such men as were with him at the moment. They were few; they were unarmed; but he called on them to make their way down the steep hillside and to fall on the plunderers on the shore before the returning tide enabled them to carry off their booty.[352] The appeal met with no hearty answer; the followers of the valiant Marquess pleaded their small numbers and the hard task of making their way down the steep and rocky height.[353] But Robert was not to be kept back; he still saw what was doing through the whole of the peninsular lowlands. He could not bear to let the favourable moment pass by. Without his cuirass, attended only by a single knight, Osbern of Orgères, he went down to attack the enemy on the shores of the estuary.[354] Death of Robert. When the Britons saw him alone, with only a single companion and no defence but his shield, they gathered round him to overwhelm him with darts and arrows, none daring to attack him with the sword.[355] He still stood, wounded, with his shield bristling with missiles, but still defying his enemies. At last his wounds bore him down. The weight of the encumbered shield was too much for him; he sank on his knees[356] , and commended his soul to God and His Mother. Then the enemy rushed on him with one accord; they smote off his head in sight of his followers, and fixed it as a trophy on the mast of one of the ships.[357] Men saw all this from the hilltop with grief and rage; but they could give no help. A crowd came together on the shore; but it was too late; the lord of Rhuddlan was already slain. By this time the invaders were able to put to sea, and the followers of Robert were also able to get their ships together and follow them. They followed in wrath and sorrow, as they saw the head of their chief on the mast.[358] Gruffydd must have felt himself the weaker. He ordered the head to be taken down and cast into the sea. On this the pursuers gave up the chase; His burial at Chester. they took up the body of the slain Marquess, and, amidst much grief of Normans and English,[359] buried him in Saint Werburh’s minster at Chester.[360]

We are well pleased to have preserved to us this living piece of personal anecdote, which reminds us for a moment of the deaths of Harold and of Hereward. Connexion of Robert with Saint Evroul. Its preservation we doubtless owe to the connexion of Robert of Rhuddlan with the house of Saint Evroul. Otherwise we might have known no more of the conqueror of North Wales than we can learn from the entries in Domesday which record his possessions.[361] But Robert, nephew of Hugh of Grantmesnil, had enriched his uncle’s foundation with estates in England, and in the city of Chester itself.[362] He was therefore not allowed to sleep for ever in the foreign soil of Chester. He had a brother Arnold, a monk of Saint Evroul, zealous in all things for his house, who had begged endless gifts for it from his kinsfolk in England, Sicily, and elsewhere. His translation to Saint Evroul. Some years after Robert’s death, Arnold came to England, and, by the leave of Bishop Robert of Chester or Coventry—Bishop of the Mercians in the phrase of the monk who was born in his diocese—translated the body of Robert to the minster of Saint Evroul. There a skilful painter, Reginald surnamed Bartholomew—most likely a monk who had taken the apostolic name on entering religion—was employed to adorn the tomb of Robert and the arch which sheltered it with all the devices of his art.[363] Orderic writes his epitaph. And the English monk Vital—we know him better by his English and worldly name—was set to compose the epitaph of one who had in some sort, like himself, passed from Mercia to Saint Evroul.[364] In his history Orderic deemed it his duty to brand Robert’s dealings with the Welsh as breaches of the natural law which binds man to man.[365] Its character. And it may be that something of the same feeling peeps out in the words of the epitaph itself, which prays with unusual fervour for the forgiveness of Robert’s sins.[366] Yet in the verses which record his acts, his campaigns against the Briton appear as worthy exploits alongside of his zeal for holy things and his special love for the house of Ouche. It is not easy to track out all these exploits, even in the narrative of Orderic himself, much less in the annals of Robert’s British enemies. But all the mightiest names of the Cymry are set forth in order, as having felt the might of the daring Marquess. He had built Rhuddlan and had guarded it against the fierce people of the land. He had ofttimes crossed beyond Conwy and Snowdon in arms. He had put King Bleddyn to flight and had won great spoil from him. He had carried off King Howel as a prisoner in bonds. He had taken King Gruffydd and had overthrown Trahaern. That Howel, his former captive, should rejoice at his fall is in no way wonderful; but the epitaph speaks further of the treachery of a certain Owen, of which there is no mention in the prose narrative.[367] In any case Robert of Rhuddlan stands out as one of the mightiest enemies of the Northern Cymry, and the tale of his end is one of the most picturesque in this reign of picturesque incidents.

End of the Norman Conquest. The rebellion was now over, and the new King was firm upon his throne. And with the rebellion, the last scene, as we have already said, of the Norman Conquest was over also. Englishmen and Normans had, for the last time under those names, met in open fight on English soil. Whether of the two had won the victory? The Conquest confirmed and undone.Such a question might admit of different answers when the Norman King vanquished the Norman nobility at the head of the English people. In one sense the Conquest was confirmed; in another sense it was undone. How far undone. Men must have felt that the Conquest was undone, that the wergeld of those who fell two-and-twenty years back was indeed paid, when the second Norman host that strove to land on the beach of Pevensey, instead of marching on to Hastings, to Senlac, to London, and to York, was beaten back from the English coast by the arms of Englishmen. They must have felt that it was undone, when the castles on which Englishmen looked as the darkest badges of bondage were stormed by an English host, gathered together at the same bidding which had gathered men together to fight at Sherstone and at Stamfordbridge. He must have been Nithing indeed who did not feel that the wrongs of many days were paid for, when the arch-oppressor, the most loathed of all his race, came forth with downcast looks to meet the jeers and curses of the nation on which he had trampled. Days like the day of Tunbridge, the day of Pevensey, and the day of Rochester, are among the days which make the heart of a nation swell higher for their memory. They were days on which the Englishman overcame the Norman, days which ruled that he who would reign over England must reign with the good will of the English people. Tendencies to union. The fusion of Normans and English was as yet far from being brought to perfection; indeed nothing could show more clearly than those days that the gap between the two nations still yawned in all its fulness. But nothing did more than the work of those days at once to fill up the gap and to rule in what way it should be filled up. Those days showed that the land was still an English land, that the choice of its ruler rested in the last resort with the true folk of the land. Those days ruled that Normans and English should become one people; but they further ruled, if there could be any doubt about the matter, that they were to become one people by the Normans becoming Englishmen, not by the English becoming Normans. It is significant that, in recording the next general rebellion, the Chronicler no longer marks the traitors as “the richest Frenchmen that were on this land;” they are simply “the head men here on land who took rede together against the King.”[368]

How far confirmed. But, if in this way the Conquest was undone, if it was ruled that England was still to be England, in another way the Conquest was confirmed. The English people showed that the English crown was still theirs to bestow; but at the same time they showed that they had no longer a thought of bestowing it out of the house of their Conqueror. The Norman dynasty accepted. When the English people came together at the bidding of the Conqueror’s son, when they willingly plighted their faith to him and called on him, as King of the English, to trust himself to English loyalty, they formally accepted the Conquest, so far as it took the form of a change of dynasty. Men pressed to fight for King William against the pretender Robert; not a voice was raised for Eadgar or Wulf or Olaf of Denmark. The stock of the Bastard of Falaise was received as the cynecyn of England, instead of the stock of Cerdic and Woden; for there must have been few indeed who remembered that William the Red, unlike his father, unlike Harold, unlike Cnut, did come of the stock of Cerdic and Woden by the spindle-side.[369] And, in admitting the change of dynasty, all was admitted which the change of dynasty immediately implied. Men who accepted the son could not ask for the wiping out of the acts of the father. They could not ask for a new confiscation and a new Domesday the other way. In accepting the son of the Conqueror, they also accepted the settlement of the Conqueror. Acceptance of the Norman nobility in an English character. His earls, his bishops, his knights, his grantees of land from Wight to Cheviot, were accepted as lawful owners of English lands and offices. But the very acceptance implied that they could hold English lands and offices only in the character of Englishmen, and that that character they must now put on.

In this way the reign of William Rufus marks a stage in the developement or recovery of English nationality and freedom. And yet at the time the days of Rufus must have seemed the darkest of all days. Rufus’ breach of his promises. No reign ever began with brighter promises than the real reign of William the Red; for we can hardly count his reign as really beginning till the rebellion was put down. No reign ever became blacker. No king was ever more distinctly placed on his throne by the good will of his people. No other king was ever hated as William Rufus lived to be hated. No other king more utterly and shamefully broke the promises of good government by which he had gained his crown. Englishmen not oppressed as such; And yet we may doubt whether William Rufus can be fairly set down as an oppressor of Englishmen, in the sense which those words would bear in the mouths of a certain school of writers. His reign is rather a reign of general wrong-doing, a reign of oppression which regarded no distinctions of race, rank, or order, a time when the mercenary soldier, of whatever race, did what he thought good, and when all other men had to put up with what he thought good. but the general oppression touches them most. In such a state of things the burthen of oppression would undoubtedly fall by far the most heavily upon the native English; they would be the class most open to suffering and least able to obtain redress. The broken promises of the King had been specially made to them, and they would feel specially aggrieved and disheartened at his breach of them. Still the good government which Rufus promised, but which he did not give, was a good government which would have profited all the King’s men, French and English, and the lack of it pressed, in its measure, on all the King’s men, French and English. There is at least nothing to show that, during the reign of Rufus, Englishmen, as Englishmen, were formally and purposely picked out as victims. We must further remember that no legal barrier parted the two races, and that the legal innovations of the reign of Rufus, as mainly affecting the King’s military tenants, bore most hardly on a class which was more largely Norman than English. Rufus and the English. On the other hand, it is certain that native Englishmen did sometimes, if rarely, rise to high places, both ecclesiastical and temporal, in the days of Rufus. Of the many stories current about this king, not above one or two throw any light on his relations to the native English class of his subjects. The one saying of his that bears on the subject savours of good-humoured banter rather than of dislike or even contempt.[370] On the whole, dark as is the picture given us of the reign of Rufus, we cannot look on it as having at all turned back or checked the course of national advance. The mercenaries. When mercenary soldiers have the upper hand, they are sure to be chosen rather from strangers of any race than from natives of the land of any race. There is indeed no reason to think that either a native Englishman or a man of Norman descent born in England would, if he were strong, brave, and faithful, be shut out from the Red King’s military family. The eye of Rufus must have been keen enough to mark many an act of good service done on the shore of Pevensey or beneath the stronghold of Rochester. But all experience shows that the tendency of such military families is to recruit themselves anywhere rather than among the sons of the soil. And nothing draws the sons of the soil more closely together than the presence of strangers on the soil. In their presence they learn to forget any mutual grievances against one another. Their favour helps the fusion of races. In after times Normans and English drew together against Brabançons and Poitevins. We may feel sure that they did so from the beginning, and that the reign of Rufus really had its share in making ready the way for the fusion of the two races, by making both races feel themselves fellow-sufferers in a time of common wrong-doing.

The rebellion and its suppression, the affairs of the Bishop of Durham, and the striking episode by the Orm’s Head, fill up the first stirring year of the Red King. But the year of the rebellion is also marked by one or two ecclesiastical events, which throw some light on the state of things in the early days of Rufus, while he still had Lanfranc to his guide. Sale of ecclesiastical offices. The great ecclesiastical crimes of the Red King in his after days were the bestowal of bishoprics and abbeys for money, and the practice of keeping them vacant for his own profit. Of these two abuses, the former seems to have been the earlier in date. The keeping prelacies vacant was one of the devices of Randolf Flambard, Prolonging of vacancies. and it could hardly have been brought into play during the very first year of Rufus. The influence of Lanfranc too would be powerful to hinder so public an act as the keeping vacant of a bishopric or abbey; it would be less powerful to hinder a private transaction on the King’s part which might be done without the Primate’s knowledge. Add to this, that, while the filling a church or keeping it vacant was a matter of fact about which there could be no doubt, the question whether the King had or had not received a bribe was a matter of surmise and suspicion, even when the surmise and suspicion happened to be just. It is then not wonderful that we find Rufus charged with corrupt dealings of this last kind at a very early stage of his reign. Case of Thurstan of Glastonbury. We have seen that Thurstan, the fierce Abbot of Glastonbury, was, by one of the first acts of Rufus, restored to the office which he had so unworthily filled, and from which the Conqueror had so worthily put him aside. And we have seen that it was at least the general belief that his restoration was brought about by a lavish gift to the King’s hoard.[371] But three prelacies, two bishoprics and a great abbey, which either were vacant at the moment of the Conqueror’s death or which fell vacant very soon after, were filled without any unreasonable delay. Geoffrey Bishop of Chichester; dies September 25, 1088. Stigand, Bishop of Chichester, died about the time of the Conqeror’s death, whether before or after, and his see was filled by his successor before the end of the year.[372] Geoffrey’s own tenure was short; he died in the year of the rebellion, and, as his see did then remain vacant three years, we may set that down as the beginning of the evil practice.[373] Death of Scotland of Saint Augustine’s and Ælfsige of Bath. About the same time died Scotland Abbot of Saint Augustine’s, and the English Ælfsige, who still kept the abbey of Bath. Not long after died Ælfsige’s diocesan, the Lotharingian Gisa, who had striven so hard to bring in the Lotharingian discipline among his canons of Wells.[374] Death of Bishop Gisa. 1088. The bishopric of the Sumorsætan was thus among the first sees which fell to the disposal of William the Red, and his disposal of it led to one of the most marked changes in its history. The bishopric of Somerset granted to John of Tours. The bishopric was given to John, called de Villula, a physician of Tours, one of the men of eminence whom the discerning patronage of William the Great had brought from lands alike beyond his island realm and beyond his continental duchy. John was a trusty counsellor of the Red King, employed by him in many affairs, and withal a zealous encourager of learning.[375] But he had little regard to the traditions and feelings of Englishmen, least of all to those of the canons of Wells. He removes the see to Bath. Like Hermann, Remigius, and other bishops of his time, he carried out the policy of transferring episcopal sees to the chief towns of their dioceses. But the way in which he carried out his scheme, if not exactly like the violent inroad of Robert of Limesey on the church of Coventry,[376] was at least like the first designs of Hermann on the church of Malmesbury, which had been thwarted by the interposition of Earl Harold.[377] The change was made in a perfectly orderly manner, but by the secular power only. The abbey of Bath was now vacant by the death of its abbot Ælfsige. Bishop John procured that the vacant post should be granted to himself and his successors for the increase of the bishopric of Somerset. This was done by a royal grant made at Winchester soon after the suppression of the rebellion, and confirmed somewhat later in a meeting of the Witan at Dover.[378] John then transferred his bishopsettle from its older seat at Wells to the church which had now become his. Grant of the temporal lordship. He next procured a grant of the temporal lordship of the “old borough,” which was perhaps of less value after its late burning by Robert of Mowbray.[379] Thus, in the language of the time, Andrew had to yield to Simon, the younger brother to the elder.[380] That is, the church of Saint Peter at Bath, with its Benedictine monks, displaced the church of Saint Andrew at Wells, with its secular canons freshly instructed in the rule of Chrodegang, as the head church of the bishopric of Somerset. The line of the independent abbots of Bath came to an end; their office was merged in the bishopric, by the new style of Bishop of Bath. Thus the old Roman city in a corner of the land of the Sumorsætan, which has never claimed the temporal headship of that land, became for a while the seat of its chief pastor.

That so great an ecclesiastical change should be The change made wholly by the civil authority. wrought by the authority of the King and his Witan—perhaps in the first instance by the King’s authority only—shows clearly how strong an ecclesiastical supremacy the new king had inherited from his father and his father’s English predecessors. By the authority of the Great Council of the realm, but without any licence from Pope or synod, an ancient ecclesiastical office was abolished, the constitution of one church was altered, and another was degraded from its rank as an episcopal see. The change was made, so says the Red King’s charter, for the good of the Red King’s soul, and for the profit of his kingdom and people. It is more certain that it was eminently distasteful to both the ecclesiastical bodies which were immediately concerned. Power of bishops. The treatment which they met with illustrates the absolute power which the bishops of the eleventh century exercised over their monks and canons, but which so largely passed away from them in the course of the twelfth. Dislike to the change on the part of the canons of Wells To the canons of Wells Bishop John was as stern a master or conqueror as Bishop Robert was to the monks of Coventry. They were deprived of their revenues, deprived of the common buildings which had been built for them by Gisa, and left to live how they might in the little town which had sprung up at the bishop’s gate.[381] and the monks of Bath. To the English monks of Offa’s house at Bath the new bishop was hardly gentler; he deemed them dolts and barbarians, and cut short their revenues and allowances. It was not till he was surrounded by a more enlightened company of monks of his own choosing that he began to restore something for the relief of their poor estate.[382] Buildings of John of Tours. 1088–1122. But in his architectural works he was magnificent. His long reign of thirty-four years allowed him, not only to begin, but seemingly to finish, the great church of Saint Peter of Bath, of which a few traces only remain, and the nave only of which is represented by the present building.[383] The church of Bath called abbey. And though, since the days of Ælfsige, there has never been an Abbot of Bath distinct from the Bishop, yet abbey, and not minster or cathedral, is the name by which the church of Bath is always known to this day.[384]

Disturbances on the appointment of Guy at Saint Augustine’s. The disturbances at Saint Augustine’s which followed the death of Abbot Scotland, and the chief features of which have been described elsewhere, must have taken place earlier in the year. For the appointment or intrusion of Guy took place while Odo was still acting as Earl of Kent.[385] But the great outbreak, in which the citizens of Canterbury took part with the monks against the Abbot, did not happen till after the death of Lanfranc. Then monks and citizens alike made an armed attack on Guy, and hard fighting, accompanied by many wounds and some deaths, was waged between them and the Abbot’s military following.[386] Flight of Guy. The Abbot himself escaped only by fleeing to the rival house of Christ Church. Then came two Bishops, Walkelin of Winchester and Gundulf of Rochester, accompanied by some lay nobles, with the King’s orders to punish the offenders. Punishment of the rebellious monks. The monks were scourged; but, by the intercession of the Prior and monks of Christ Church, the discipline was inflicted privately with no lay eyes to behold.[387] They were then scattered through different monasteries, and twenty-four monks of Christ Church, with their sub-prior Anthony as Prior, were sent to colonize the empty cloister of Saint Augustine’s.[388] Punishment of the citizens. The doom of the citizens was harder; those who were found guilty of a share in the attack on the Abbot lost their eyes.[389] The justice of the Red King, stern as it was, thus drew the distinction for which Thomas of London strove in after days. The lives and limbs of monastic offenders were sacred.

§ 3. The Character of William Rufus.

Death of Lanfranc. May 24, 1089. The one great event recorded in the year after the rebellion was the death of Archbishop Lanfranc, an event at once important in itself, and still more important in the effect which it had on the character of William Rufus, and in its consequent effect on the general Its effects.march of events. The removal of a man who had played so great a part in all affairs since the earliest days of the Conquest, who had been for so many years, both before and after the Conquest, the right hand man of the Conqueror, was in itself no small change. For good or for evil, the Lombard Primate had left his mark for ever on the Church and realm of England. Position of Lanfranc in England and Normandy. One of the abetters of the Conquest, the chief instrument of the Conqueror, he had found the way to the good will of the conquered people, with whom and with whose land either his feelings or his policy led him freely to identify himself.[390] It must never be forgotten that, if Lanfranc was a stranger in England, he was no less a stranger in Normandy. As such, he was doubtless better able to act as a kind of mediator between the Norman King and the English people; he could do somewhat, if not to lighten the yoke, at least to make it less galling. In the last events of his life we have seen him act as one of the leaders in a cause which was at once that of the English people and of the Norman King. We have seen too some specimens of his worldly wisdom, of his skill in fence and debate. An ecclesiastical statesman rather than either a saint or strictly a churchman, it seems rather a narrow view of him when the national Chronicler sends him out of the world with the hope that he was gone to the heavenly kingdom, but with the special character of the venerable father and patron of monks.[391] His primacy of nearly nineteen years ended in the May of the year following the rebellion.[392] His burial at Christ Church. He was buried in the metropolitan church of his own rebuilding, and, when his shorter choir gave way to the grander conceptions of the days of his successor, the sweet savour that came from his tomb made all men sure that the pious hope of the Chronicler had been fulfilled.[393]

Lanfranc was borne to his grave amid general sorrow.[394] But the sorrow might have been yet deeper, if men had known the effect which his death would have on the character of the King and his reign. Change for the worse in the King’s character. Up to this time the worst features of the character of William Rufus had not shown themselves in their fulness. As long as his father lived, as long as Lanfranc lived, he had in some measure kept them in check. We need not suppose any sudden or violent change. It is the manifest exaggeration of a writer who had his own reasons for drawing as favourable a picture as he could of the Red King, when we are told that, as long as Lanfranc lived, he showed himself, under that wholesome influence, the perfect model of a ruler.[395] There can be no doubt that, while Lanfranc yet lived, William Rufus began to cast aside his fetters, and to look on his monitor with some degree of ill will. Lanfranc’s rebukes of William. The Primate had already had to rebuke him for breach of the solemn promises of his coronation, and it was then that he received the characteristic and memorable answer that no man could keep all his promises. But there is no reason to doubt that the death of Lanfranc set Rufus free from the last traces of moral restraint.[396] His dutiful submission to his father had been the best feature in his character; and it is clear that some measure of the same feeling extended itself to the guardian to whose care his father, both in life and in death, had entrusted him. But now he was no longer under tutors and governors; there was no longer any man to whom he could in any sense look up. He was left to his own devices, or to the counsels of men whose counsels were not likely to improve him. It was not a wholesome exchange when the authority of Lanfranc and William the Great was exchanged for the cunning service of Randolf Flambard and the military companionship of Robert of Bellême.

Picture of William Rufus. As soon then as Lanfranc was dead, William Rufus burst all bounds, and the man stood forth as he was, or as his unhappy circumstances had made him. We may now look at him, physically and morally, as he is drawn in very elaborate pictures by contemporary hands. William, the third son of the Conqueror, was born before his father came into England; but I do not know that there is any evidence to fix the exact year of his birth. Birth of William Rufus, c. 1060. He is spoken of as young[397] at the time of his accession, and from the date of the marriage of the Conqueror and Matilda, it would seem likely that their third son would then be about twenty-seven years of age. He would therefore be hardly thirty at the time of the death of Lanfranc. His outward appearance. The description of his personal appearance is not specially inviting. In his bodily form he seems, like his brother Robert,[398] a kind of caricature of his father, as Rufus, though certainly not Robert, was also in some of his moral and mental qualities. He was a man of no great stature, of a thick square frame, with a projecting stomach. His bodily strength was great; his eye was restless; his speech was stammering, especially when he was stirred to anger. He lacked the power of speech which had belonged to his father and had even descended to his elder brother; his pent-up wrath or merriment, or whatever the momentary passion might be, broke out in short sharp sentences, often showing some readiness of wit, but no continued flow of speech. His surname of Rufus. He had the yellow hair of his race, and the ruddiness of his countenance gave him the surname which has stuck to him so closely. The second William is yet more emphatically the Red King than his father is either the Bastard or the Conqueror. Unlike most other names of the kind, his surname is not only used by contemporary writers, but it is used by them almost as a proper name.[399] Up to the time of his accession, he had played no part in public affairs; in truth he had no opportunity of playing any. The policy of the Conqueror had kept his sons dependent on himself, without governments or estates.[400] Rufus in youth. We have a picture of Rufus in his youthful days, as the young soldier foremost in every strife, who deemed himself disgraced, if any other took to his arms before himself, if he was not the first to challenge an enemy or to overthrow any enemy that challenged his side.[401] His filial duty. Above all things, he had shown himself a dutiful son, cleaving steadfastly to his father, both in peace and war. His filial zeal had been increased after the rebellion of his brother, when the hope of the succession had begun to be opened to himself.[402] By his father’s side, in defence of his father, he had himself received a wound at Gerberoi.[403] Such was his character beyond the sea; but the one fact known of him in England before his father’s death is that he had, like most men of his time who had the chance, possessed himself in some illegal way of a small amount of ecclesiastical land.[404] It is quite possible that both his father and Lanfranc may have been deceived as to his real character. His natural gifts. In the stormy times which followed his accession, he had shown the qualities of an able captain and something more. He had shown great readiness of spirit, great power of adapting himself to circumstances, great skill in keeping friends and in winning over enemies. No man could doubt that the new King of the English had in him the power, if he chose to use it, of becoming a great and a good ruler. His conduct during the rebellion. And assuredly he could not be charged with anything like either cruelty or breach of faith at any stage of the warfare by which his crown was made fast to him. If he anywhere showed the cloven foot, it was in the matter of the Bishop of Durham. Case of the Bishop of Durham. Even there we can have no doubt that he spared a traitor; but he may have been hasty in the earliest stage of the quarrel; he certainly, in its latter stages, showed signs of that small personal spite, that disposition to take mean personal advantages of an enemy, which was so common in the kings of those days. Still, whatever Lanfranc may have found to rebuke, whatever may have been the beginnings of evil while the Primate yet lived, no public act of the new king is as yet recorded which would lead us to pass any severe sentence upon him, if he is judged according to the measure of his own times.

It is indeed remarkable that the pictures of evil-doing which mark the reign of Rufus from the Chronicle onwards are, except when they take the form of personal anecdote, mainly of a general kind. General charges against Rufus. Those pictures, those anecdotes, leave no room to doubt that the reign of Rufus was a reign of fearful oppression; but his oppression seems to have consisted more in the unrestrained Little personal cruelty; licence which he allowed to his followers than in any special deeds of personal cruelty done by his own hands or by his immediate orders. comparison with his father and brother. Rufus certainly did not share his father’s life-long shrinking from taking human life anywhere but in battle; but his brother Henry, the model ruler of his time, the king who made peace for man and deer, is really chargeable with uglier deeds in his own person than any that can be distinctly proved against the Red King. We are driven back to our old distinction. The excesses of the followers of Rufus, the reign of unright and unlaw which they brought with them, did or threatened harm to every man in his dominions; the occasional cruelties of Henry hurt only a few people, while the general strictness of his rule profited every one. His profligacy and irreligion. What makes William Rufus stand out personally in so specially hateful a light is not so much deeds of personal cruelty, as indulgence in the foulest forms of vice, combined with a form of irreligion which startled not only saints but ordinary sinners. Redeeming features in his character. And the point is that, hateful as these features in his character were, they did not hinder the presence of other features which were not hateful in the view of his own age, of some indeed which are not hateful in the view of any age.

His marked personality. The marked personality of William Rufus, the way in which that personality stamped itself on the memory of his age, is shown by the elaborate pictures which we have of his character, and by the crowd of personal anecdotes by which those pictures are illustrated. Allowing for the sure tendency of such a character to get worse, we may take our survey of the Red King as he seemed in men’s eyes when the restraints of his earlier life were taken away. As long as his father lived, he had little power to do evil; as long as Lanfranc lived, he was kept within some kind of bounds by respect for the man to whom he owed so much. When Lanfranc was gone, he either was corrupted by prosperity, or else, like Tiberius,[405] his natural character was now for the first time able to show itself in the absence of restraint. Comparison with his father. His character then stood out boldly, and men might compare him with his father. William the Red may pass for William the Great with all his nobler qualities, intellectual and moral, left out.[406] He could be, when he chose, either a great captain or a great ruler; but it was only by fits and starts that he chose to be either. His alleged firmness of purpose. His memory was strong; he at least never forgot an injury; he had also a kind of firmness of purpose; that is, he was earnest in whatever he undertook for good or for evil, and could not easily be turned from his will.[407] His caprice. But he lacked that true steadiness of purpose, that power of waiting for the right time, that unfailing adaptation of means to ends, which lends somewhat of moral dignity even to the worst deeds of his father. The elder William, we may be sure, loved power and loved success; he loved them as the objects and the rewards of a well-studied and abiding policy. The younger William rather loved the excitement of winning them, and the ostentatious display of them when they were won. Hard as it was for others to turn him from his purpose, no man was more easily turned from it by his own caprice. No man began so many things and finished so few of them. His military undertakings are always ably planned and set on foot with great vigour. His unfinished campaigns. But his campaigns come to an end without any visible cause. After elaborate preparations and energetic beginnings, the Red King turns away to something else, often without either any marked success to satisfy him or any marked defeat to discourage him. If he could not carry his point at the first rush, he seems to have lacked steadiness to go on. We have seen what he could do when fighting for his crown at the head of a loyal nation. He does not show in so favourable a light, even as a captain, much less as a man, when he was fighting to gratify a restless ambition at the head of hirelings gathered from every land.

His “magnanimity.” The two qualities for which he is chiefly praised by the writer who strives to make the best of him are his magnanimity and his liberality. The former word must not be taken in its modern English use. It is reckoned as a virtue; it therefore does not exactly answer to the older English use of the word “high-minded;” but it perhaps comes nearer to it than to anything that would be spoken of as magnanimity now. It was at all events a virtue which easily degenerated into a vice; the magnanimity of William Rufus changed, it is allowed, by degrees into needless harshness.[408] The leading feature of the Red King’s character was a boundless pride and self-confidence, tempered by occasional fits of that kind of generosity which is really the offspring of pride. His boundless pride. We see little in him either of real justice or of real mercy; but he held himself too high to hurt those whom he deemed it beneath him to hurt. His overweening notion of his own greatness, personal and official, his belief in the dignity of kings and specially in the dignity of King William of England, led him, perhaps not to a belief in his star like Buonaparte, certainly not to a belief in any favouring power, like Sulla,[409] but to a kind of conviction that neither human strength nor the powers of nature could or ought to withstand his will. This high opinion of himself he asserted after his own fashion. The stern and dignified aspect of his father degenerated in him into the mere affectation of a lofty bearing, a fierce and threatening look.[410] His private demeanour. This was for the outside world; in the lighter moments of more familiar intercourse, the grim pleasantry into which the stately courtesy of his father sometimes relaxed degenerated in him into a habit of reckless jesting, which took the specially shameless form of mocking excuses for his own evil deeds.[411] Indeed his boasted loftiness of spirit sometimes laid him open to be mocked and cheated by those around him. Trick of his chamberlain. One of the endless stories about him, stories which, true or false, mark the character of the man, told how, when his chamberlain brought him a pair of new boots, he asked the price. Hearing that they cost three shillings only—a good price, one would have thought, in the coinage of those times—he bade his officer take them away as unworthy of a king and bring him a pair worth a mark of silver. The cunning chamberlain brought a worse pair, which he professed to have bought at the higher price, and which Rufus accordingly pronounced to be worthy of a King’s majesty.[412] Such a tale could not have been believed or invented except of a man in whose nature true dignity, true greatness of soul, found no place, but who was puffed up with a feeling of his own importance, which, if it could sometimes be shaped into the likeness of something nobler, could also sometimes sink into vanity of the silliest and most childish kind.

His “liberality.” But the quality for which the Red King was most famous in his own day, a quality which was, we are told, blazed abroad through all lands, East and West, was what his own age called his boundless liberality. The wealth of England was a standing subject of wonder in other lands, and in the days of Rufus men wondered no less at the lavish way in which it was scattered abroad by the open hand of her King.[413] But the liberality of Rufus had no claim to that name in its higher sense.[414] It was not that kind of liberality which spends ungrudgingly for good purposes out of stores which have been honestly come by; it was a liberality which gave for purposes of wrong out of stores which were brought together by wrong. His wastefulness. It was a liberality which consisted in the most reckless personal waste in matters of daily life, and which in public affairs took the form of lavish bribes paid to seduce the subjects of other princes from their allegiance, of lavish payments to troops of mercenary soldiers, hired for the oppression of his own dominions and the disquieting of the dominions of others. It was said of him that the merchant could draw from him any price for his wares, and that the soldier could draw from him any pay for his services.[415] The sources which supplied William with his wealth were of a piece with the objects to which his wealth was applied; under him the two ideas of liberality and oppression can never be separated. What was called liberality by the foreign mercenary was called extortion by the plundered Englishman. His reward to the loyal troops after the rebellion. The hoard at Winchester, full as the Conqueror had left it, could not stay full for ever; it is implied that it was greatly drawn upon by gifts to those who saved William’s crown and kingdom at Pevensey and Rochester.[416] This was of a truth the best spent money of the Red King’s reign; for it rewarded true and honest service, and service done by the hands of Englishmen. But to fill the hoard again, to keep it filled amid the constant drain, to keep up with the lavishness of one to whom prodigality had become part of his nature,[417] needed every kind of unrighteous extortion. His extortions. The land was bowed down by what, in the living speech of our forefathers, was called ungeld; money, that is, wrung from the people by unrede, unright, and unlaw.[418] His generally strict government. Like his father, Rufus was, as a rule, strict in preserving the peace of the land; his hand was heavy on the murderer and the robber. The law of his father which forbade the punishment of death[419] was either formally repealed or allowed to fall into disuse. The robber was now sent to the gallows; but, when he had got thither, he might still save his neck by a timely payment to the King’s coffers.[420] And the sternness of the law which smote offenders who had no such prevailing plea was relaxed also in favour of all who were in the immediate service of the King.[421] His lavishness to his mercenaries. The chief objects of William’s boasted liberality were his mercenary soldiers, picked men from all lands. A strong hand and a ready wit, by whomsoever shown and howsoever proved, were a passport to the Red King’s service and to his personal favour.[422] And those who thus won his personal favour were more likely to be altogether strangers than natives of the land, whether of the conquering or of the conquered race. Chiefly foreigners. We may suspect that the settled inhabitants of England, whether English or Norman, knew the King’s mercenaries mainly as a body of aliens who had licence to do any kind of wrong among them without fear of punishment. The native Englishman and his Norman neighbour had alike to complain of the chartered brigands who went through the land, wasting the substance of those who tilled it, and snatching the food out of the very mouths of the wretched.[423] Their wrongdoings. A more detailed picture sets before us how, when the King drew near to any place, men fled from their houses into the woods, or anywhere else where they could hide themselves. For the King’s followers, when they were quartered in any house, carried off, sold, or burned, whatever was in it. They took the householder’s store of drink to wash the feet of their horses, and everywhere offered the cruellest of insults to men’s wives and daughters.[424] And for all this no redress was to be had; the law of the land and the discipline of the camp had alike become a dead letter in the case of offenders of this class. The oppressions of the King’s immediate company were often complained of in better times and under better kings; but they seem to have reached a greater height under William Rufus than at any time before or after. Statute of Henry against them. 1108. We hear of no such doings under the settled rule of the Conqueror; under Henry they were checked by a statute of fearful severity.[425] As usual, the picture of the time cannot be so well drawn in any words as those in which the native Chronicler draws it in our own tongue. King William “was very strong and stern over his land and his men and his neighbours, and very much to be feared, and, through evil men’s rede that to him ever welcome were, and through his own greediness, he harassed his land with his army and with ungeld. For in his days ilk right fell away, and ilk unright for God and for world uprose.”[426]

Thus were the promises with which William Rufus had bought the help of the English people in his day of danger utterly trampled under foot. He had promised them good laws and freedom from unrighteous taxes; he had promised them that they should have again, as in the days of Cnut,[427] the right of every man to slay the beasts of the field for his lawful needs. Instead of all this, the reign of the younger William became, above all other reigns, a reign of unlaw and of ungeld. Stricter forest laws. The savage pleasures of the father, for the sake of which he had laid waste the homes and fields of Hampshire, were sought after by the son with a yet keener zest, and were fenced in by a yet sterner code. In the days of William the Red the man who slew a hart had, what he had not in the days of William the Great, to pay for his crime with his life.[428] The working of this stern law is shown in one of the many stories of William Rufus, a story of which we should like to hear the end a little more clearly.[429] Story of the fifty Englishmen. Fifty men were charged with having taken, killed, and eaten the King’s deer. We are so generally left to guess at the nationality of the lesser actors in our story that our attention is specially called to the marked way in which we are told that they were men of Old-English birth, once of high rank in the land, and who had contrived still to keep some remnants of their ancient wealth.[430] They belonged doubtless to the class of King’s thegns; if we were told in what shire the tale was laid, Domesday might help us to their names. Why mentioned as Englishmen. This is one of the very few passages which might suggest the notion that Englishmen, as Englishmen, were specially picked out for oppression. And it may well be true that the forest laws pressed with special harshness on native Englishmen; no man would have so great temptation to offend against them as a dispossessed Englishman. What is not shown is that a man of Norman birth who offended in the same way would have fared any better. The mention of the accused men as Englishmen comes from the teller of the story only; and he most likely points out the fact in order to explain what next follows. On their denying the charge, they were sent to the ordeal of hot iron. Granting that killing a deer was a crime at all, this was simply the ancient English way of dealing with the alleged criminal. We are therefore a little surprised when our informant seems to speak of the appeal to the ordeal as a piece of special cruelty.[431] Their acquittal by ordeal. The fiery test was gone through; but God, we are told, took care to save the innocent, and on the third day, when their hands were formally examined, they were found to be unhurt. The King in his wrath uttered words of blasphemy. The King’s blasphemous comment. Men said that God was a just judge; he would believe it no longer. God was no judge of these matters; he would for the future take them into his own hands.[432] To understand the full force of such words, we must remember that the ordeal was, in its own nature, an appeal to the judgement of God in cases when there was no evidence on which man could found a judgement.[433] What happened further we are not told; it can hardly be meant that the men in whose favour the judgement of God was held to have been given were sent to the gallows all the same.

Special vices of Rufus. In this last story the most distinctive feature of the character of William Rufus comes out. In many of his recorded deeds we see the picture of an evil man and an evil king, but still of a man and a king whose deeds might find many parallels in other times and places. But the story in which he mocks at the ordeal leads us to those other points in him which give him a place of his own, a place which perhaps none other in the long roll-call of evil kings can dispute with him. Other kings have been cruel; others have been lustful; others have broken their faith with their people, and have said in their hearts that there was no God. But the Red King stands well nigh alone in bringing back the foulest vices of heathendom into a Christian land, and at the same time openly proclaiming himself the personal enemy of his Maker.

Contrast between Rufus and his father. It is with regard to his daily life and to the beliefs and objects which his age looked on as sacred that William Rufus stands out in the most glaring contrast to his father. William the Great, I need hardly repeat, was austere in his personal morals and a strict observer of every outward religious duty. His court was decent; the men who stood before him kept, we are told, to the modesty of the elder days. Old and new fashions of dress. Their clothes were fitted to the form of their bodies, leaving them ready to run or ride or do anything that was to be done.[434] They shaved their beards—all save penitents, captives, and pilgrims—and cut their hair close.[435] But with the death of William, of Pope Gregory, and of other religious princes, the good old times passed away, and their decorous fashions were forgotten through all the Western lands.[436] Then vain and foppish forms of attire came in. The gilded youth of Normandy and of Norman England began to wear long garments like women, which hindered walking or acting of any kind; they let their hair grow long like women; they copied the walk and mien of women.[437] The pointed shoes. Above all, their feet were shod with shoes with long curved points, like the horns of rams or the tails of scorpions. These long and puffed shoes were the device of a courtier of Rufus, Robert henceforth surnamed the Cornard, and they were further improved by Count Fulk of Anjou, when he wished to hide the swellings on his gouty feet.[438] The long hair and the long-pointed shoes serve as special subjects for declamation among the moral writers of the time.[439] Fashionable vices of the time. But these unseemly fashions were only the outward signs of the deeper corruption within. The courtiers, the minions, of Rufus, forerunners of the minions of the last Henry of Valois, altogether forsook the law of God and the customs of their fathers. The day they passed in sleep; the night in revellings, dicing, and vain talk.[440] Vices before unknown, the vices of the East, the special sin, as Englishmen then deemed, of the Norman, were rife among them. Personal crimes of the King. And deepest of all in guilt was the Red King himself. Into the details of the private life of Rufus it is well not to grope too narrowly. In him England might see on her own soil the habits of the ancient Greek and the modern Turk. His sins were of a kind from which his brother Henry, no model of moral perfection, was deemed to be wholly free, and which he was believed to look upon with loathing.[441]

Sinners, even of the special type of the Red King, have before now been zealous supporters of orthodoxy. If William persecuted Anselm, Constans defended Athanasius. His irreligion. But the foulness of William’s life was of a piece with his open mockery of everything which other men in his day held sacred. Whatever else divided Englishman and Norman, they were at least one in religious doctrine and religious worship. In matters of dogma Stigand was as orthodox as Lanfranc. But now, among the endless classes of adventurers whom the Conquest brought to try their luck in the conquered land, came men of a race whom Normans and Englishmen alike looked on as cut off from all national and religious fellowship. Coming of the Jews. In the wake of the Conqueror the Jews of Rouen found their way to London,[442] and before long we find settlements of the Hebrew race in the chief cities and boroughs of England, at York, Winchester, Lincoln, Bristol, Oxford, and even at the gates of the Abbots of Saint Edmund’s and Saint Alban’s.[443] Their position in England. They came as the King’s special men, or more truly his special chattels, strangers alike to the Church and to the commonwealth of England, but strong in the protection of a master who commonly found it to his interest to defend them against all others. Hated, feared, and loathed, but far too deeply feared to be scorned or oppressed, they stalked defiantly among the people of the land, on whose wants they throve. They lived safe from harm or insult, save now and then, when popular wrath burst all bounds, and when their proud mansions and fortified quarters could shelter them no longer from raging crowds eager to wash out their debts in the blood of their creditors.[444] The romantic picture of the despised, trembling, Jew, cringing before every Christian that he meets, is, in any age of English history, simply a romantic picture. Favour shown to them by Rufus. In the days of Rufus at all events, the Jews of Rouen and London stood erect before the prince of the land, and they seem to have enjoyed no small share of his favour and personal familiarity. The presence of the unbelieving Hebrew supplied the Red King with many opportunities for mocking at Christianity and its ministers. He is even said to have shown himself more than once, when it was to his interest so to show himself, as a kind of missionary of the Hebrew faith. He was not the only prince of his age who discouraged conversions to Christianity on the part of distinct races who could be made more useful, if they remained distinct, and who could in no way be kept so distinct as if they remained in the position of infidels. Comparison with the Sicilian Saracens. Count Roger of Sicily found that the unbelieving Saracens,[445] and William Rufus found that the unbelieving Hebrews, were, each in their own way, more profitable to their several masters than if they had been allowed to lose their distinct being among their Christian neighbours. William’s vein of mockery. But in the whole dealings of Rufus with the Jews there is a vein of mockery in which, if Roger shared, it is not recorded. It is true that we do not find Rufus taking the part of the Jew, except when the Jew made it worth his while to do so. But when he did take the Jew’s part, he clearly found a malicious pleasure in taking it. He enjoyed showing favour to the Jew, because so to do gave annoyance to the Christian.

Question of William’s scepticism. Whether Rufus was in any strict sense an intellectual sceptic may be doubted. That he was such cannot be inferred from his bidding in bitter mockery the Jewish rabbis and the bishops of England to dispute before him on the tenets of their several creeds, promising to embrace the faith of the strangers, if they should have the better in the discussion. The dispute between Jews and Christians. The discussion took place in London, most likely when the prelates were gathered for some Whitsun Gemót. The Christian cause was supported by several bishops and clerks—one would like to have their names—who argued, we are told, in great fear on behalf of the faith which was thus jeoparded.[446] As is usual in such cases, each side claimed the victory;[447] but in any case the arguments on the Hebrew side were not so overwhelming as to make the King become an avowed votary of Moses. Still he did what he could to hinder the ranks of the Church from being swelled at the cost of the synagogue. In a story which must belong to the latter part of his reign, we read how the Jews of Rouen began to be frightened at the great numbers of their body who fell away from the law of their fathers. Jews turn back again. They came to the King, and, by a large bribe, obtained from him a promise that the converts should be constrained to go back to the faith which they had forsaken. They were brought before Rufus, and most of them were by his terrible threats forced again to apostatize.[448] The tale of the Red King’s success in this crooked kind of missionary enterprise reached the ears of a Jew father—where we are not told—whose only and well-beloved son was lost to him by conversion to the Christian faith. Story of the convert Stephen and his father. The young man had been favoured with a vision of the protomartyr Stephen, who had bidden him ask for baptism and take his own name at the font.[449] He went to a priest, told his tale, and was admitted to baptism by the name which was appointed to him. His father, mourning for his loss, went to King William and made his complaint; praying that at his command his son might be restored to his old faith.[450] Rufus held his peace; the argument which alone persuaded him to meddle in such matters had not yet been urged.[451] A promise of sixty marks of silver, payable on the second conversion of the youth, brought the King to another mind,[452] and Stephen was called into the royal presence. A dialogue took place between the King and the neophyte, in which Rufus, remembering Dispute between Stephen and the King. perhaps the one redeeming feature in his own life, pressed Stephen’s return to Judaism as a matter of filial duty. The youth humbly suggests that the King is joking. Rufus waxes wroth, and takes to words of abuse and to his usual oath. Stephen’s eyes shall be torn out, if he does not presently obey his bidding.[453] The youth stands firm, and even rebukes the King. He can be no good Christian who, instead of trying to win to Christ those who are estranged from him, strives to drive back those who have already embraced his faith. Rufus, put to shame by the answer, has nothing to say, but drives Stephen from his presence with scorn.[454] The Jew father is waiting without. His son overwhelms him with words of abuse which even zeal for his new faith would hardly justify. He would no longer acknowledge a father in one whose own father was the Devil, and who, not satisfied with his own damnation, sought the damnation of his son.[455] With this somewhat harsh way of putting matters, the zealous youth vanishes from the story; the Jew father has yet another turn with the Red King. The King’s compromise with Stephen’s father. He is called in, and Rufus says that he has done what he had been asked to do, and demands the promised payment for his pains.[456] The Jew expostulates. His son, he says, is firmer than ever in his Christian faith and in his hatred towards himself. Yet the King says that he has done what he had been asked, and demands payment. “Finish,” he goes on, with a boldness which challenges some sympathy, “what you have begun, and then we will settle about my promise; such was our agreement.”[457] It is characteristic of Rufus not to be angry at a really bold word. Evidently entering into the grotesque side of the dispute, he rejects the doctrine of payment by results; he answers that he has done his best, and that, though he had not succeeded, he cannot go away with nothing for his trouble.[458] At last, after some further haggling, the parties in this strange dispute come to a compromise. The Jew pays, and the King receives, half the sum which had been promised in the beginning.

A king of whom such stories as these could be told, whether every detail is literally true or not, must have utterly cast aside all the decencies of his own or of any other age. But Rufus, according to the tales told of him, went even further than this. William’s defiance of God. He is charged with a kind of personal defiance of the Almighty, quite distinct alike from mere carelessness and from speculative unbelief. When he recovered from the sickness which forms such an epoch in his life, 1093.“God,” he said, “shall never see me a good man; I have suffered too much at his hands.”[459] He mocked at God’s judgement and doubted his justice—his disbelief in the ordeal is quoted as an instance. Either God did not know the deeds of men, or else he weighed them in an unfair balance.[460] He was wroth if any one ventured to add the usual reserve of God’s will to anything which he, King William, undertook or ordered to be undertaken. He had that belief in himself that he would have everything referred to his own wisdom and power only.[461] Modern ideas might be less shocked at another alleged sign of his impiety. His contempt for the saints. He was said to have declared publicly that neither Saint Peter nor any other saint had any influence with God, and that he would ask none of them for help.[462] In all this we are again left in doubt whether we are dealing with a speculative unbeliever, or only with one who was so puffed up with pride that he liked not to be reminded of any power greater than his own, least of all of a power which might some day call him to account for his evil deeds. Frequency of blasphemy. And though William Rufus clearly went lengths in his defiance of God to which even bad men were unaccustomed, we must remember that something of the same kind in a less degree was not uncommon in his time. Blasphemy strictly so called, that is, neither simple irreverence nor intellectual unbelief, but direct reviling and defiance of a power which, by the very terms of the defiance, is believed in, is a vice of which Englishmen of our own day have hardly any notion. But, as it has many parallels in heathen creeds, as it has not yet died out in all parts of Christendom, so it was by no means unknown in the days with which we are dealing. Its frequency at a somewhat later time is shown when Contrast of Saint Lewis. the biographer of Saint Lewis sets it down as one of his special virtues, that he never, under any circumstance, allowed any reviling of God or the saints.[463] Case of Henry the Second. On the other hand, we find Henry the Second, whom there is no reason whatever to look on as a speculative unbeliever, indulging, as in lesser forms of irreverence, so also in direct reviling of God.[464] But the vice, to us so revolting and unintelligible, seems to have reached its highest point in the King of whom men said in proverbs that he every morning got up a worse man than he lay down, and every evening lay down a worse man than he got up.[465]

Thus far we are inclined to see in our second William a character of unmixed blackness, alike as a man and as a King. There seems no room left for even pagan virtues in the oppressor, the blasphemer, the man given up to vices at whose foulness ordinary sinners stood aghast. Redeeming features in Rufus’ character. Yet nothing is plainer than that there was something in the character of William Rufus which made him not wholly hateful in the eyes of his own age. There was a side to him which, if we may not strictly call it virtuous, has yet in it something akin to virtue, as compared with other sides of him. Little personal cruelty. There is, as I have already hinted, amidst all the general oppressions of his reign, amidst all the special outrages which he at least allowed to go unpunished, no sign in him of that direct delight in human suffering which marks some of his contemporaries. Respect to his father’s memory. I have spoken of his dutiful obedience to his father while he lived; and the sentiment of filial duty lived on after his father’s death, and showed itself in some singular forms of respect for his memory. Elsewhere the enemy and spoiler of the Church, towards his father’s ecclesiastical foundations Rufus appears as a benefactor. Saint Stephen’s, the monument of his father’s penance, Battle, the monument of his father’s victory, were both the objects of his bounty.[466] But it is singularly characteristic that the means for bounty towards Saint Stephen at Caen were found in the plunder of the Holy Cross at Waltham.[467] His foundations. At York, strangely out of the common range of his actions, we find him counted as a second founder of the hospital of Saint Peter; we find him changing its site, enlarging its buildings and revenues, but specially setting forth that he was confirming the gifts of his father.[468] We shall see that, in all his wars, it was his special ambition to keep whatever had been his father’s; whatever he lost or won, it was a point of honour to hold the great trophy of his father’s continental victories. Le Mans. In other warfare the Red King might halt or dally or put up with an imperfect conquest. But when Le Mans, castle and city, was to be kept or won, when the royal tower of his father was in jeopardy or in hostile hands, then the heart of Rufus never waxed weak in counsel, his arm never faltered in the fight.

His chivalrous spirit. But one form of words which I have just used opens to us one special side of the character of the Red King which is apt to be overlooked. I have spoken of the point of honour. I am not sure that, in the generation before Rufus, those words could have applied in all their fulness either to Harold of England or to William of Normandy, either to Gyrth of East-Anglia or to Roger of Beaumont. Chivalry a new thing. But to no man that ever lived was the whole train of thoughts and feelings suggested by those words more abidingly present than they were to the Red King. It might be going too far to say that William Rufus was the first gentleman, as his claim to that title might be disputed by his forefather Duke Richard the Good.[469] But he was certainly the first man in any very prominent place by whom the whole set of words, thoughts, and feelings, which belong to the titles of knight and gentleman were habitually and ostentatiously thrust forward.

True character of chivalry. We have now in short reached the days of chivalry, the days of that spirit on which two of the masters of history have spoken in words so strong that I should hardly venture to follow them.[470] Of that spirit, the spirit which, instead of striving to obey the whole law of right, picks out a few of its precepts to be observed under certain circumstances and towards certain classes of people, William the Red was one of the foremost models. The knight and the monk. The knight, like the monk, arbitrarily picks out certain virtues, to be observed in such an exclusive and one-sided way as almost to turn them into vices. He has his arbitrary code of honour to supplant alike the law of God and the law of the land. That code teaches the duties of good faith, courtesy, mercy—under certain circumstances and towards certain people. His word when kept and when broken. Was William Rufus a man of his word? His subjects as a body had no reason to think so; the princes of other lands had no reason to think so. His promises to his people went for nothing; his treaties with other princes went for nothing.[471] To observe both of these was the dull everyday duty of a Christian man whom it had pleased God to call to a particular state of life, that namely of a king. Holding, as Rufus did, that no man could keep all his promises,[472] these were the class of promises that he thought it needless to try to keep. But when William plighted his word in the character of the probus miles, the preux chevalier, in modern phrase, as “an officer and a gentleman,” no man kept it more strictly. No man cared less for the justice of his wars; no man cared less for the wrong and suffering which his warfare caused. His knightly courtesy. But no man ever more scrupulously observed all the mere courtesies of warfare. He was not like Robert of Bellême. The life and limb of the prisoner of knightly rank were safe in his hands. Indeed any man of any rank who appealed to his personal generosity was always safe. Under the influence of the law of honour, the tyrant, the blasphemer, the extortioner, the oppressor who neither feared God nor regarded man, puts on an air of unselfishness, of unworldliness. His trust in the knightly word of others. Strict in the observance of his own knightly word, he places unbounded confidence in the knightly word of others. He thrusts indignantly aside the suggestion of colder spirits that a captive knight may possibly break his parole.[473] Contrast with Helias. We shall see all this as we follow the tale of his strife with Helias of Maine, one who was as scrupulous an observer of the law of honour as himself, but one who did not let the law of honour stand in the place of higher and older laws. Importance of this side of his character. And this is a side of the character of Rufus on which it is important to dwell, as it is one which the popular conception of him, a conception perfectly true as far as it goes, is apt to leave out. We have not grasped the likeness of the real man, unless we remember that the man whose crimes and vices the popular picture has not exaggerated, carried with him through life a sentimental standard of filial duty and reverence, and a knightly conscience, if the phrase may pass, as quick to speak and as sure to be obeyed as the higher conscience of Anselm or Helias. Without fully taking this in, we shall not easily understand the twofold light in which Rufus looked to the men of his own age, in whose eyes he clearly was not wholly hateful. And without fully taking it in, we shall fail to give him his place in the general history of England, Normandy, and mankind in general. He marks the beginning of a new æra. In William Rufus we have not only to study a very varied and remarkable phase of human nature; we have also to look on a man who marks the beginning of a new age and a new state of feeling.

The Red King has indeed this advantage, that the other parts of his character are so bad that the chivalrous side of him stands out as a relief, as at least comparative light amid surrounding darkness. Chivalry the bad side of some princes; There are other princes in whom the chivalrous side is the dark side, because there are other parts of their character better than chivalry. The essence of chivalry is that the fantastic and capricious law of honour displaces all the forms of the law of right. Its one-sided nature. The standard of the good knight, the rule of good faith, respect, and courtesy, as due from one knight to another, displaces the higher standard of the man, the citizen, and the Christian. There are perhaps whole ages, there certainly are particular men, in which this lower standard has its use. Any check, any law, is better than no check and no law. Its incidental use. He who cannot rise to the higher rank of an honest man had better be a knight and gentleman than a mere knave and ruffian. If a man cannot be kept back from all crimes by the law of right, it is a gain that he should be kept back from some crimes by the law of honour. It was better that William Rufus should show mercy and keep his word in some particular kind of cases than that he should never show mercy or keep his word at all. But the very fact that such an one as Rufus could feel bound by the law of honour shows how feeble a check the law of honour is. And we must remember that the very feeling of courtesy and deference towards men of a certain rank led only to more reckless and contemptuous oppression of all who lay without the favoured pale. And, at least as regards particular men, the beginning of the days of chivalry was the falling back from a higher standard. Instances of obedience to a higher law. We have come across men in our own story who showed that they obeyed a better law than that of honour. It was not at the bidding of chivalry or honour, it was not in the character of knight or gentleman, that Herlwin made light of his own wrongs by the side of those of his poor peasants,[474] or that Harold refused to harry the lands of the men who had chosen him to be their king.[475] Practical working of chivalry. But the law of honour and chivalry was most fully obeyed, the character of knight and gentleman was shown in its full perfection, when the Knight without Fear and without Bayard.Reproach refused to expose himself to toils of war which were too dangerous for any but the base churl.[476] It was fully carried out when the mirror of chivalry, the The Black Prince. Black Prince himself, gave their lives to the French knights who fought against him, and murdered the unarmed men, women, and children, who craved for mercy.[477] Francis the First of France. It was no less worthily carried out by the king who ever had the faith of a gentleman on his lips, who boasted that he had never broken his word except to women, and who betrayed, not only the women, but the allied princes and commonwealths who trusted in him. William the Red at least need not shrink from a comparison with Francis of Valois.[478] Twofold character of the Black Prince. But it must not be forgotten that one of the chivalrous heroes on our list had a side to him better than his chivalry. William the Great assuredly, and I believe William the Red also, would have shrunk from such a deed as the slaughter of Limoges. But he who wrought the slaughter of Limoges was also the patriotic statesman of the Good Parliament. The knight, courteous and bloody as became his knighthood, could turn about and act as something better than a knight. In such a man we must measure the balance of good and evil as we can, and the chivalrous side of him is the evil side. In William Rufus the chivalrous side is the better side; it is the comparatively bright spot in a picture otherwise of utter blackness.

Grouping of events in the reign of Rufus. The chief events of the reign of William Rufus fall into two classes. There is the military side; there is the ecclesiastical and constitutional side. There is the side which shows us the noblest and the basest type of the warrior in Helias of La Flèche and in Robert of Bellême. There is the side which shows us the noblest and the basest type of the priest in Anselm of Canterbury and in Randolf of Durham. The two sides go on together. The most striking features in both belong to a somewhat later time than that which we have now reached. But it is the military side in its earlier stages which most directly connects itself with the tale which we have gone through in the present chapter. The first Norman campaign of the Red King comes in date before the archiepiscopate of Anselm; it comes in idea before the administration of Randolf Flambard. On the other hand, it is directly connected with the war of Pevensey and Rochester, with the banishment of Bishop Odo and Bishop William. We will therefore pass to it as the chief subject of our next chapter.

CHAPTER III.

THE FIRST WARS OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
1090–1092.[479]

THE Character of the year 1089.rest of the year in which Lanfranc died was unmarked by any striking public event, political or military. The causes of evil which had begun to play their part before the Primate’s death, which were enabled to play it so much more powerfully after his death, were no doubt already at work; but they had as yet not wrought any open change, or done anything specially to impress men’s minds. Natural phænomena. The writers of the time have nothing to record, except natural phænomena, and it must be remembered that natural phænomena, and those mostly of a baleful kind, form a marked feature of the reign of William Rufus. Even he could hardly be charged with directly causing earthquakes, storms, and bad harvests; but, in the ideas of his day, it was natural to look on earthquakes, storms, and bad harvests, either as scourges sent to punish his evil deeds, or else as signs that some more direct vengeance was presently coming upon himself. The ever-living belief of those times in the near connexion between the moral and the physical world must always be borne in mind in reading their history. And in the days of William Rufus there was plenty in both worlds to set men’s minds a-thinking. The great earthquake. Aug. 11, 1089. Lanfranc had not been dead three months before the land was visited with a mighty earthquake. The strongest buildings—the massive keeps and minsters lately built or still building—seemed to spring from the ground and sink back again into their places.[480] Then came a lack of the fruits of the earth of all kinds; the harvest was slow in ripening and scanty when it came; men reaped their corn at Martinmas and yet later.[481]

Character of the year 1090. The next year we find no entries of this kind. There was a mighty stir in England and in Normandy; but it was not a mere stirring of the elements. Beginnings of foreign adventure. We now enter on the record of the foreign policy and the foreign wars of the Red King, and we hear the first wail going up from the oppressed folk within his kingdom. Throughout his reign the growth of the prince’s power and the grievances of his people go together. In the former year there was nothing to chronicle but the earthquake and the late harvest. First mention of domestic opposition. This year we hear of the first successes of the King beyond the sea, and we hear, as their natural consequence, that the “land was fordone with unlawful gelds.”[482]

The years 1090–1091. The two years which followed the death of Lanfranc saw the attempt of the first year of Rufus reversed. Instead of the lord of Normandy striving to win England, the lord Successes in Normandy. of England not only strives, but succeeds, in making himself master of a large part of the Norman duchy. Supremacy over Scotland. 1091. Having thus become a continental potentate, the King comes back to his island kingdom, to establish his Imperial supremacy over the greatest vassal of his crown, and to do what his father had not done, to enlarge the borders Annexation of Cumberland. 1092. of his immediate realm by a new land and a new city.

Through a large part then of the present chapter the scene of our story will be removed from England to Normandy. Close connexion of English and Norman history.Yet it is only the scene which is changed, not the actors. One main result of the coming of the first William into England was that for a while the history of Normandy and that of England cannot be kept asunder. The chief men on the one side of the water are the chief The same main actors in both. men on the other side. And the fact that they were so is the main key to the politics of the time. We have in the last chapter seen the working of this fact from one side; we shall now see its working from the other side. The same men flit backwards and forwards from Normandy to England and from England to Normandy. Normandy the chief seat of warfare. But of warfare, public and private, during the reign of William Rufus and still more during the reign of Henry the First, Normandy rather than England is the chosen field. Without warfare of some kind a Norman noble could hardly live. And for that beloved employment Normandy gave many more opportunities than England. The Duke of the Normans, himself after all the man of a higher lord, could not be—at least no duke but William the Great could be—in his continental duchy all that the King of the English, Emperor in his own island, could be within his island realm. Contrast between Normandy and England as to private war. Private war was lawful in Normandy—the Truce of God itself implied its lawfulness; it never was lawful in England. And wars with France, wars with Anjou, the endless struggle in and for the borderland of Maine, went much further towards taxing the strength and disturbing the peace of the Norman duchy, than the endless strife on the Welsh and Scottish marches could go towards taxing the strength and disturbing the peace of the English kingdom. Normandy then will be our fighting-ground far more than England; but the fighting men will be the same in both lands.

The old and the new generation. The old companions of the Conqueror were by this time beginning to make way for a new generation. The rebellion of 1088 saw the last exploits of some of them. Yet others among them will still be actors for a while. Bishop Odo. Bishop Odo, cut off from playing any part in England, still plays a part in Normandy. The great border earls, Hugh of Hugh. d. 1101. Chester and of Avranches, Roger of Shrewsbury and of Roger. d. 1094. Montgomery, die in the course of our tale, but not till we have something more to tell about both of them, and a good deal to tell about the longer-lived of the two. Robert of Mowbray. Their younger fellow, Robert of Mowbray, after becoming the chief centre of one part of our story, leaves the world by a living death. William of Warren. The new Earl of Surrey, if not already dead, passes away without anything further to record of him; Walter Giffard, d. 1102. Walter Giffard, old as a man, but young as an earl, still lives on. But younger men are coming into sight. William of Eu. William of Eu, the son of the still living Count Robert, has already come before us as a chief actor in our story, and we shall see him as the chiefest sufferer. But above all, two men, whom we have hitherto seen only by fits and starts, now come to the front as chief actors on both sides of the sea. Before we enter on the details of Norman affairs, it will be well to try clearly to take in the character and position of two famous bearers of the same name, great alike in England, in Normandy, and in France, Robert of Bellême. Robert of Bellême, afterwards of Shrewsbury, of Bridgenorth, and of both Montgomeries, and Robert of Meulan. Robert, Count of the French county of Meulan, heir of the great Norman house of Beaumont, and forefather of the great English house of Leicester.

The two Rogers, fathers of the two Roberts, are still living; but for the rest of their days they play a part quite secondary to that played by their sons. History and character of Robert of Bellême. Robert of Bellême, the eldest son of Roger of Montgomery, has already come before us several times, most prominently as a sharer in the rebellion raised by the present Duke against his father in Normandy[483] and in the rebellion raised on his behalf against his brother. Succeeds his mother Mabel. 1082. As son of the slain Countess Mabel,[484] he was heir of the house of Talvas, heir alike of their possessions and of their reputed wickedness. Lord through his mother of the Her inheritance.castle from which he took his name, lord of a crowd of other castles on the border-lands of Normandy, Perche, and Maine, Robert of Bellême, Robert Talvas, Succeeds his father at Montgomery, 1094; stands forth for the present as the son of Mabel rather than as the son of Roger. In after times counties and lordships flowed in upon him from various sources and in various quarters. The death of his father gave him the old Norman possessions of the house of Montgomery; and his brother at Shrewsbury, 1098. the death of his brother gave him the new English possessions of that house, the great earldom of Shrewsbury and all that went with it. We seem to be carried back to past times when we find that Robert of Bellême His wife Agnes of Ponthieu. was married to the daughter of Guy of Ponthieu, the gaoler of Harold, and that, at the accession of William Rufus, Guy had still as many years to reign as the Red King himself. Guy Count of Ponthieu. 1053–1100. Guy’s death at last added Ponthieu to the possessions of the house of Bellême, nominally in the person of Robert’s son William Talvas, practically in that of Robert himself. Greatness of Robert’s possessions. The lord of such lands, master of four and thirty castles,[485] ranked rather with princes than with ordinary nobles; and even now, when Robert held only the inheritance of his mother, the extent and nature of his fiefs gave him a position almost princely. The man alike of Normandy and of France, he could make use of the profitable as well as the dangerous side of a divided allegiance, and it is not without reason that we find the lord of the border-land spoken of by the fitting title of Marquess.[486] Great part played by him. From the death of the Conqueror onwards, through the reigns of Robert and William, till the day when Henry sent him to a life-long prison, Robert of Bellême fills in the history of Normandy and England a place alongside of their sovereigns.

His character. With the inheritance of Mabel and William Talvas, their son and grandson was believed to have succeeded in full measure to the hereditary wickedness of their house. That house is spoken of as one at whose deeds dæmons themselves might shudder,[487] His surname. and Robert himself bears in the traditions of his Cenomannian enemies the frightful surname which has been so unfairly transferred to the father of the Conqueror. His name lives in proverbs. In the land of Maine his abiding works are pointed to as the works of Robert the Devil. Elsewhere the “wonders of Robert of Bellême” became a familiar saying.[488] That Robert was a man of no small natural gifts is plain; to the ordinary accomplishments of the Norman warrior he added a mastery of the more intellectual branches of the art of warfare. His skill in engineering. As the Cenomannian legend shows, he stood at the head of his age in the skill of the military engineer.[489] Firm and daring, ready of wit and ready of speech, he had in him most of the qualities which might have made him great in that or in any other age. His special and wanton cruelty. But, even in that age, he held a place by himself as a kind of incarnation of evil. Restless ambition, reckless contempt of the rights of others, were common to him with many of his neighbours and contemporaries. But he stands almost alone in his habitual delight in the infliction of human suffering. The recklessness which lays waste houses and fields, the cruelty of passion or of policy which slays or mutilates an enemy, were common in his day. But even then we find only a few men of whom it was believed that the pangs of other men were to them a direct source of enjoyment. In Robert sheer love of cruelty displaced even greediness; he refused ransom for his prisoners that he might have the pleasure of putting them to lingering deaths.[490] The received forms of cruelty blinding and mutilation, were not enough for him; he brought the horrors of the East into Western Europe; men, and women too, were left at his bidding to writhe on the sharp stake.[491] Distrustful of all men, artful, flattering, courteous of speech, his profession of friendship was the sure path to destruction.[492] The special vices of William Rufus are not laid to his charge; it is at least to the credit of Latin Christendom in the eleventh century that it needs the union of its two worst sinners to form the likeness of an Ottoman Majesty, Excellency, or Highness in the nineteenth. But his domestic life was hardly happy. His treatment of his wife His wife Agnes, the heiress of Ponthieu, the mother of his one child William Talvas, was long kept by him in bonds in the dungeons of Bellême.[493] and his godson. And, more piteous than all, we read how a little boy, his own godchild, drew near to him in all loving trust. Some say, in the sheer wantonness of cruelty, some say, to avenge some slight fault of the child’s father, the monster drew the boy under his cloak and tore out his eyes with his own hands.[494]

The list of the men, great and small, who were simply wronged and dispossessed by Robert of Bellême, is long indeed.[495] Some of them, it is true, were now and then able to revenge their wrongs with their own arms. His enmity to the men of Domfront; He seems, as might have been expected, to have been the special enemy of all that was specially good in individuals or in communities. He was the bitter foe of the valiant and faithful men of Domfront.[496] to Helias; He was before all things the enemy of Helias of La Flèche. to Rotrou of Perche; He was the enemy of his neighbour Count Rotrou of Perche, who also bears a good character among the princes of his day.[497] to the prelates of Seez. As temporal lord of Seez, he was the enemy of its churches, episcopal and abbatial; he had not that reverence for the foundation of his father which is one of the redeeming features in the character of the Red King. Abbot Ralph, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. He underwent excommunication from the zeal of Bishop Serlo, and by the wrongs done by him to Abbot Ralph of Seez, which drove that prelate to seek shelter in England, he unwittingly gave England a worthy primate and Anselm a worthy successor.[498] One is inclined to wonder how such a man gained the special favour of the Conqueror, whose politic sternness had nothing in common with the fiendish brutality of Robert.[499] Perhaps, as in William Rufus, the worst features of his character may for a while have been hidden. It is less surprising that, in the days of William’s sons, we find him in honour at the courts of England, Normandy, and France. But at last vengeance came upon him. His imprisonment by Henry. 1110. When King Henry sent him to spend his days in prison, it was in a prison so strait and darksome that the outer world knew not whether he were dead or alive, nor was the time of his death set down in any record.[500]

Robert Count of Meulan and Earl of Leicester. The other Robert, the son of the other Roger, was a man of a different mould, a man who would perhaps seem more in place in some other age than in that in which he lived. He was the son of the old and worthy Roger of Beaumont, the faithful counsellor of princes, His father Roger of Beaumont. who, like Gulbert of Hugleville, refused to share in the spoils of England.[501] Great, like his namesake, in France, Normandy, and England, Robert passed through a long life unstained by any remarkable crime, though it was hinted that, of his vast possessions on both sides of the sea, some were not fairly come by.[502] He inherits Meulan from his uncle, He is known in history by the name of his French county of Meulan, which he inherited from his mother’s brother, Count Hugh, son of Count Waleran, who withdrew to become a monk of Bec.[503] and Beaumont from his father. From his father, when he too had gone to end his days in his father’s monastery of Preaux, Robert inherited the lordship of Beaumont, called, from his father’s name, Beaumont-le-Roger.[504] His earldom of Leicester. He shared in the Conqueror’s distribution of lands in England, and in after days he received the earldom of Leicester from King Henry, as his less stirring brother Henry had already received that of Warwick from the Red King. His exploits at Senlac. That he was a brave and skilful soldier we cannot doubt; his establishment in England was the reward of good service done at one of the most critical moments of the most terrible of battles.[505] But the warrior of Senlac hardly appears again in the character of a warrior; he His fame for wisdom. lives on for many years as a cold and crafty statesman, the counsellor of successive kings, whose wisdom, surpassing that of all men between Huntingdon and Jerusalem, was deemed, like that of Ahithophel, to be like the oracle of God.[506] His counsels were not always of an amiable kind. Character of his influence with Rufus and Henry. Under Rufus, without, as far as we can see, sharing in his crimes, he checked those chivalrous instincts which were the King’s nearest approach to virtue.[507] Under Henry his influence was used to hinder the promotion of Englishmen in their own land.[508] Yet on the whole his character stands fair. He discouraged foppery and extravagance by precept and example; he was the right-hand man of King Henry in maintaining the peace of the land, and he seems to have shared the higher tastes of the clerkly monarch.[509] Of Anselm he was sometimes the enemy, sometimes the friend.[510] His sons. His sons were well taught, and they could win the admiration of Pope and cardinals by their skill in disputation.[511] The eldest, Waleran, his Norman heir, plays an unlucky part in the reign of Henry;[512] his English heir Robert continued the line of the Earls of Leicester.[513] His last days. His last days were clouded by domestic troubles;[514] and he is said to have formally perilled his own soul in his zeal for the temporal welfare of his sons. His death. 1118. On his death-bed, so the story runs, Archbishop Ralph and other clergy bade him, for his soul’s health, to restore whatever lands he had gained unjustly.[515] Story of his death-bed.What then, he asked, should he leave to his sons? “Your old inheritance,” answered Ralph, “and whatever you have acquired justly. Give up the rest, or you devote your soul to hell.” The fond father answered that he would leave all to them, and would trust to their filial piety to make atonement for his sins.[516] But we are told that Waleran and Robert were too busy increasing by wrong what had been won by wrong to do anything for the soul of their father.[517]

These are the two men who, of secondary importance in the tale of the Conquest and of the reign of the first William, become the most prominent laymen of the reign of the second. The churchmen of the time who stand forth conspicuously for good and for evil will have their place in another chapter. Prominence of the two Roberts. But the two Roberts will, next to the King and the Ætheling, hold the first place in the tale which we have immediately to tell, as they held it still in days of which we shall not have the telling, long after the Ætheling had changed into the King. The force of him of Bellême, the wit of him of Meulan, had their full place in the affairs both of Normandy and of England, and both were brought to bear against the prince and people of Maine.

§ 1. Normandy under Robert.
1087–1090.

Temptations to the invasion of Normandy. That the thought of an invasion of his elder brother’s duchy should present itself to the mind of William Rufus was not very wonderful. The fact that it was his elder brother’s duchy might perhaps be of itself enough to suggest the thought. The dutiful son of his father, whom alone his father had called to rule of his own free will, might feel himself in some sort defrauded, if any part of his father’s dominions was held by a brother whose only claim was the accident of his elder birth, and whose personal unfitness for the rule of men his father had emphatically set forth. Indeed, without seeking for any special motive at all, mere ambition, mere love of enterprise, might be motive enough to lead a prince like Rufus to a campaign beyond the sea, a campaign which might make him master of the native dominion of his father, the land of his own birth. Interest of those who held land in both countries. And such schemes would be supported on grounds of reasonable policy by a large part of the Norman possessors of the soil of England. Holding, many of them, lands on both sides of the sea, it was their interest that the same prince should reign on both sides of the sea, and that they themselves should not be left open to the dangers of a divided allegiance. They had failed to carry out this purpose by putting Robert in possession of England; they might now carry it out by putting William in possession of Normandy. And the attempt might even be made with some show of justice. Provocation given by Robert. The help which Robert had given to the rebellion against Rufus might, in the eyes of Rufus, or of a much more scrupulous prince than Rufus, have been held to justify reprisals. State of Normandy. And to a prince seeking occasions or excuses for an invasion of Normandy the actual condition of that duchy might seem directly to invite the coming of an invader. The invader might almost comfort himself with the belief that his invasion was a charitable work. Any kind of rule, almost any kind of tyranny, might seem an improvement on the state of things which was now rife through the whole length and breadth of the Norman land. His invasion likely to be largely welcome. William Rufus might reasonably think that no small part of the inhabitants of Normandy would welcome invasion from an invader of their own blood, the son of their greatest ruler. And the event showed that he was by no means mistaken in so thinking.

The Conqueror foretells the character of Robert’s reign. No words of man were ever more truly spoken than the words in which William the Great, constrained, as he deemed himself, to leave Normandy in the hands of Robert, was believed to have foretold the fate of the land which should be under his rule. Robert was, so his father is made to call him, proud and foolish, doomed to misfortune; the land would be wretched where he was master.[518] The Conqueror was a true prophet; Utter anarchy of the duchy. when Robert stepped into his father’s place, the work of the fifty years’ rule of his father was undone in a moment. Normandy at once fell back into the state of anarchy from which William had saved it, the state into which it fell when the elder Robert set forth for Jerusalem.[519] Once more every man did what was right in his own eyes. And the Duke did nothing to hinder them. Again we are brought to that standard of the duties of a sovereign of which we have heard so often, that standard which was reached by the Conqueror and by his younger son, but which neither Robert in this generation nor Stephen in the next strove to reach. Character of Robert. Robert, it must always be noticed, is never charged with cruelty or oppression of any kind in his own person. His weak good-nature. His fault was exactly of the opposite kind. He was so mild and good-natured, so ready to listen to every suppliant, to give to every petitioner, to show mercy to every offender, that he utterly neglected the discharge of the first duty of his office, that which the men of his time called doing justice.[520] William the Great had done justice and made peace. Revival of brigandage and private war. The smaller brood of thieves and murderers had been brought to feel the avenging arm of the law. Thieves and murderers on a greater scale, the unruly nobles of the duchy, had been forced to keep back their hands from that form of brigandage which they dignified with the name of private war. Under Robert both classes of offenders found full scope for their energies. He did nothing to restrain either. He neither made peace nor did justice. Lack of “justice.” Brave, liberal, ready of speech, ready of wit and keen of sight in supporting the cause of another, Robert undoubtedly could be. But stronger qualities were needed, and those qualities Robert had not. Sunk in sloth and dissipation, no man heeded him; the land was without a ruler. Forgetful alike of injuries and of benefits, Robert, from the first moment of his reign, tamely endured the most flagrant outrages to the ducal authority, without doing anything to hinder or to avenge.[521]

Spread of vice and evil fashions. In other respects also Normandy suddenly changed from what it had been under the great King-duke. William the Great, strict to austerity in his private life, careful in the observance of all religious duties, a zealous supporter of ecclesiastical discipline, had made his duchy into a kind of paradise in ecclesiastical eyes. All this was now swept away. The same flood of foolish and vicious fashions which overspread England overspread Normandy also. There is nothing to convict Robert personally of the special vices of Rufus; but the life of the unmarried Duke was very unlike the life of his father. And vice of the grossest kind, the vices of Rufus himself, stalked forth into broad daylight, unabashed and unpunished.[522] Weakness of the spiritual power. The ecclesiastical power, no longer supported by the secular arm, was too weak to restrain or to chastise.[523] As every form of violence, so every form of licentiousness, had its full swing in the Normandy of Robert Curthose.

Building of castles. But, above all, this time stood out, like all times of anarchy, as a time of building and strengthening of castles. One of the means by which the Conqueror had The Conqueror keeps garrisons in the castles of the nobles.maintained the peace of the land had been by keeping garrisons of his own in the castles of such of his nobles as were likely to be dangerous. He had followed this wise policy with the castle of Evreux, the stronghold of Instances at Evreux, and in the Bellême castles.his kinsman Count William. He had followed it with the crowd of castles which, as the inheritance of his mother, had passed to Robert of Bellême, the man who is to be the leading villain of our present drama. But the precautions of the Conqueror lasted no longer than his life; his successor might be defied without danger. At the moment of the King’s death, Robert of Bellême was on his way to the court to “speak with the King,” in the ordinary phrase,[524] on some affairs of his own. He had reached Brionne when he heard of the Conqueror’s death. Robert of Bellême drives out the ducal forces. Instead of going on to offer his homage or support to the new Duke, he turned back, gathered his own followers, marched on Alençon, and by a sudden attack drove the ducal garrison out of the fortress by the Sarthe, the southern bulwark of Normandy. He did the same with better right on his own hill of Bellême, which was not strictly Norman soil. He did so with all his other castles, and with as many of the castles of his neighbours as he could.[525] The lord of Bellême in short established himself as a prince who might well bear himself as independent of the lord of Rouen. The like done by the Count of Evreux and others. Count William of Evreux followed his example; the late King’s garrison was driven out of the fortress which had arisen within the walls of the Roman Mediolanum. William of Breteuil, Ralph of Toesny or of Conches, the nobles of Normandy in general wherever they had the power, all did the like.[526] They drove out the garrisons; they strengthened the old fortresses; they raised new ones, adulterine castles in the phrase of the day, built without the Duke’s licence and placed beyond his control. Those who were strong enough seized on the castles of weaker neighbours. The land was again filled with these robbers’ nests, within whose walls and circuit law was powerless, lairs, as men said, of grievous wolves, who entered in and spared not the flock.[527] Robert’s lavish grants. Some nobles indeed had the decency to go through the form of asking the Duke for gifts which they knew that he would not have strength of mind to refuse them. One of them was William of Breteuil, the son of the famous Earl William of Hereford, the brother of the rebel Roger,[528] and once a sharer in Robert’s rebellion against his father. Ivry. He asked and received the famous tower of Ivry, the tower of Albereda, the now vanished stronghold which once looked down on the plain where Henry of Navarre was in after ages to smite down the forces of the League. This gift involved a wrong to the old Roger of Beaumont, who had held that great fortress by the Conqueror’s commission. Brionne. Roger was accordingly recompensed by a grant of Brionne, the island stronghold in the heart of Normandy, which had played such a part in the early wars of the Conqueror.[529] Thus places specially connected with the memory of the great William, places like Alençon and Brionne, which had cost him no small pains to win or to recover, passed away from his son without a thought. Robert gave to every man everything that he asked for, to the impoverishment of himself and to the strengthening of every other man against him.[530]

The Ætheling Henry. In one corner only of the duchy was there a better state of things to be seen. The Ætheling Henry had received from his dying father a bequest in money, but no share in his territorial dominions.[531] He claims his mother’s lands. He claimed however the English lands which had been held by his mother Matilda, but which the late King had kept in his own hands after her death.[532] This claim had not as yet been made good, and Henry’s possessions still consisted only of his five thousand pounds in money. With part of this he was presently to make a splendid investment. Lavish waste of Robert. While Henry had money but no lands, Robert had wide domains, but his extravagance soon left him without money. The Norman portion of the Conqueror’s hoard was presently scattered broadcast among his mercenary soldiers and other followers. Of these he kept a vast number; men flocked eagerly to a prince who was so ready to give; but before long he was without the means of giving or paying any more. He asks a loan of Henry. He asked Henry for a gift or a loan. The scholar-prince was wary, and refused to throw his money away into the bottomless pit of Robert’s extravagance.[533] The Duke then proposed to sell him some part of his dominions. At this proposal Henry caught gladly, and a bargain was struck. Henry buys the Côtentin and Avranchin. For a payment of three thousand pounds, Henry became master of a noble principality in the western part of the Norman duchy. The conquest of William Longsword,[534] the colony of Harold Blaatand,[535] the whole land from the fortress of Saint James to the haven of Cherbourg, the land of Coutances and Avranches, the castle and abbey of Saint Saviour,[536] and the house that was castle and abbey in one, the house of Saint Michael in Peril of the Sea—all this became the dominion of Henry, now known as Count of the Côtentin. With these territories he received the superiority over a formidable vassal; he became lord over the Norman possessions of Earl Hugh of Chester.[537] Thus the English-born son of the Norman Conqueror held for his first dominion no contemptible portion of his father’s duchy, as ruler of the Danish land which in earlier days had beaten back an English invasion.[538] In that land, under Henry’s firm rule. the rule of him who was one day to be called the Lion of Justice, there was a nearer approach to peace and order than could be found in other parts of Normandy. The young Count governed his county well and firmly; no such doings went on in the lands of Coutances and Avranches as went on in the rest of the duchy under the no-rule of Duke Robert.[539]

Henry goes to England. Summer, 1088. Henry, Ætheling on one side of the sea and now Count on the other side,[540] next thought of crossing the channel to seek for those estates in his native land which he claimed in right of his mother.[541] These lands, in Cornwall, Buckinghamshire, and specially in Gloucestershire, had mostly formed a part of the forfeited possessions of Brihtric, the man whose name legend has so strangely connected with that of Matilda.[542] Henry must have reached England about the time when the rebellion had been put down, and when the new King might be expected to be in a mood inclined either to justice or to generosity. William promises him the lands of Matilda. William received his brother graciously, and granted, promised, or pretended to grant, the restitution of the lands of their mother.[543] Henry, already a ruler on one side of the sea, a sharer in his father’s inheritance, went back to his peninsula in a character which was yet newer to him, that of a sharer in his father’s conquest, a great land-owner on the other side of the sea. But his luck, which was to shine forth so brightly in after times, forsook him for the present. If Henry ever came into actual possession of his English estates, his tenure of them was short. He seizes them again. At some time which is not distinctly marked, the lands which had been Matilda’s were again seized by William. They are granted to Robert Fitz-hamon.They were granted to one of the rising men of the time, one of the few who had been faithful to the King in the late times of trouble, to Robert Fitz-hamon, perhaps already the terror of the southern Cymry. Thus the old possessions of Brihtric passed into the hands of the lord of the castle of Cardiff, the founder of the minster of Tewkesbury.[544] In the next generation the policy of Henry was to win them back, if not for himself, yet for his son.[545]

Influence of Odo with Robert. If the Count of Coutances failed of his objects in England, a worse fate awaited him for a season on his return to Normandy. He had enemies at the court of Duke Robert; first of all, it would seem, his uncle Odo, lately Earl of Kent and still Bishop of Bayeux. He was now driven from his earldom to his bishopric, like a dragon, we are told, with fiery wings cast down to the earth.[546] Autumn, 1088. The tyrant of Bayeux, the worst of prelates—such are the names under which Odo now appears in the pages of our chief guide[547]—had again become Robert’s chief counsellor. His counsel seems to have taken the form of stirring up the Duke’s mind to abiding wrath against his brother of England, and against all who were, or were held to be, his partisans.[548] Henry brings back Robert of Bellême. When Henry left England to come back to Normandy, he brought with him a dangerous companion in the person of Robert of Bellême. That rebel of a few months back was now thoroughly reconciled to Rufus. Duke Robert was even made to believe that his namesake of Bellême, so lately his zealous supporter, was joined with Henry by a mutual oath to support the interests of the King of the English at the expense of the Duke of the Normans.[549] They are seized and imprisoned. The measures of Robert or of Odo were speedily taken; the coasts were watched; the voyagers were seized before they could disembark from their ships.[550] They were put in fetters, and presently consigned to prisons in the keeping of the Bishop. They had not even the comfort of companionship in bonds. While the Ætheling, Count of the Côtentin, was kept in Odo’s episcopal city, the place of imprisonment for the son of the Earl of Shrewsbury was the fortress of Neuilly, in the most distant part of Odo’s diocese, near the frontier stream of Vire which parts the Bessin from Henry’s own peninsula. The less illustrious captive was the first to find a champion. Earl Roger makes war on the Duke. Earl Roger, by the licence of the King, left England, crossed into Normandy, entered into open war with the Duke on behalf of his son, and garrisoned all his own castles and those of his son against him. Vassal of three lords, the lord of Montgomery and Shrewsbury, the father of the lord of Bellême, might almost rank as their peer. As a prince rather than as a mere baron, Earl Roger took to arms. His fortresses. The border-fortresses on the frontier ground of Normandy, Maine, and Perche were all put into a state of defence.[551] Alençon, by the border stream, was again, as in the days when its burghers mocked the Tanner’s grandson,[552] garrisoned against his son and successor. Bellême itself, the cradle of the house of Talvas—the Rock of Mabel, bearing the name of her who had united the houses of Talvas and Montgomery, and whose blood had been the price of its possession—Saint-Cenery on its peninsula by the Sarthe, another of the spoils of Mabel’s bloody policy—all these border strongholds, together with a crowd of others lying more distinctly within the Norman dominions, had again become hostile spots where the Duke of the Normans was defied.

The episcopal gaoler of Bayeux, in his character of chief counsellor of Duke Robert, is described as keeping his feeble nephew somewhat in awe. But his counsels, it is added, were sometimes followed, sometimes despised.[553] Odo’s exhortation to Robert. Now that all Normandy was in a blaze of civil war, Odo came to Rouen, and had an audience of the Duke, seemingly in an assembly of his nobles.[554] If our guide is to be trusted, Robert, who had no love for hearing sermons even from the lips of his father, was now condemned to hear a sermon of no small length from the perhaps even readier lips of his uncle. Odo gave Robert a lecture on the good government of his duchy, on the duty of defending the oppressed and putting down their oppressors. A long list of princes are held up as his examples, the familiar heroes of Persia, Macedonia, Carthage, and Rome, among whom, one hardly sees why, Septimius Severus takes his place along with the first Cæsar. Rivalry of Normandy and France. On the same list too come the princes of his own house, the princes whom the warlike French had ever feared, winding up with the name of his own father, greatest of them all.[555] In all this we hear the monk of Saint Evroul rather than the Bishop of Bayeux; but any voice is worth hearing which impresses on us a clearer understanding of the abiding jealousy between Normandy and France. But we may surely hear Odo himself in the practical advice that follows.The line of Talvas to be rooted out. Now is the time to root out the whole accursed stock of Talvas from the Norman duchy. They were an evil generation from the beginning, not one of whom ever died the death of other men.[556] It is as the son of Mabel, not as the son of Roger, that Robert of Bellême comes in for this frightful inheritance, and Odo could not foresee how pious an end the Earl of Shrewsbury was to make in a few years.[557] He reminded the Duke that a crowd of castles, which had been ducal possessions as long as his father lived, had been seized on his father’s death by Robert of Bellême, and their ducal garrisons driven out.[558] It was the Duke’s duty, as the ruler of the land, as a faithful son of Holy Church, to put an end to the tyranny of this usurper, and to give to all his dominions the blessing of lawful government at the hand of their lawful prince.

But the overthrow of the house of Talvas was not the only work to which Odo stirred up his nephew. Affairs of Maine. There was another enterprise to be undertaken before the great lord of the Cenomannian border could be safely attacked. These early days of Robert lead us on at once to that side of the continental wars and continental policy of Rufus which seems to have drawn to itself the smallest amount of English interest at the time,[559] but which is that on which we are now led to look with a deeper interest than any other. Before Robert could safely attack Bellême, he must make sure of Le Mans and of all Maine. Every mention of that noble city, of its counts and its bishops, its renowned church, and its stout-hearted citizens, has a charm which is shared by no other spot between the Loire and the Channel. Helias and Hildebert. And at no stage of its history did the Cenomannian state stand forth with greater brilliancy than in the last days of its independent being, when Le Mans had Helias to its count and Hildebert to its bishop. Those days are still parted from us by a few years; but the advice given by Odo to Robert brings us to the beginning of the chain of events which leads straight to them. The historian of William Rufus must now begin to look forward to the days when Rufus, like his father, tried his strength against the valiant men of the Cenomannian land and city, and tried it at a time when land and city could put forth their full strength back again under a leader worthy of them. But as yet the land of Maine has neither to deal with so mighty a foe nor to rejoice in the guardianship of so worthy a champion. In the stage of the tale which we have now reached, Rufus plays no part at all, and Helias plays only a secondary part. History of Maine under the Conqueror. The general story of Le Mans and Maine has been elsewhere carried down to the last mention of them in the days of the Conqueror.[560] It has been told how the land passed under 1063. William’s power in the days before he crossed the sea to win England[561]—how the city and land had revolted against the Norman—how, after trying the rule of a foreign branch of their own princely house, its people had 1073. risen as the first free commonwealth north of the Loire—how they had been again brought into William’s hand, and that largely by the help of his English warriors[562]—and how, after the final submission of the city, isolated spots of the Cenomannian land had again risen against the Norman power. The last act of this earlier 1083. drama was when a single Cenomannian fortress successfully withstood the whole strength of Normandy and England.[563] We have seen how Hubert of Beaumont beheld the Conqueror baffled before his hill fortress of Sainte-Susanne, the shattered keep which still stands, sharing with Dol in the Breton land the honour of being the two spots from which William had to turn away, conqueror no longer.[564] 1086. But, if Hubert had beaten back William from his castle, he had found it expedient to return to his allegiance; and, at the death of the Conqueror, Maine seems to have been as thoroughly under William’s power as Normandy and England. Dissatisfaction in Maine. Things changed as soon as the great King had passed away. The land and city which had striven so often against the Conqueror himself were not likely to sit down quietly under the feeble rule of Robert. Relations with Fulk of Anjou. And, besides the standing dislike of the people of Maine to Norman rule, there was a neighbour who was likely to be stirred up by his own ambition to meddle in the affairs of Maine, and to whom the actual provisions of treaties gave at least a colourable claim to do so. By the terms of the peace of Blanchelande, the new Duke of the Normans had become the man of Count Fulk of Anjou for the county of Maine.[565] It is true that the homage had been of the most formal kind. There had been no reservation of authority on the part of the superior lord, nor, as far as we can see, was any service of any kind imposed on the fief, if fief it is to be called. Robert’s homage to Fulk. The homage might almost seem to have been a purely personal act, a homage expressing thankfulness for the surrender of all Angevin rights over Maine, rather than an acknowledgement of Angevin superiority over the land and city. Still Robert, as Count of Maine, had, in some way or other, become Count Fulk’s man, and Count Fulk had, in some way or other, become Robert’s lord. A relation was thus established between them of which the Rechin was sure to take advantage, whenever the time came.

Robert Count of Maine. Robert, on his father’s death, had taken his title of Prince of the Cenomannians as well as that of Duke of the Normans,[566] and his authority seems to have been acknowledged at Le Mans no less than at Rouen. State of things in Maine. We may suspect that there was no very deep felt loyalty in the minds of a people whose rebellious tendencies had deeply impressed the mind of William the Great. He is said—though we may guess that the etymology comes rather from the reporter than from the speaker—to have derived the name of their land and city from their currish madness.[567] But there was as yet no open resistance. Of the three chief men in Church and State, Howel. Bishop Howel was an active supporter of the Norman connexion, while Geoffrey of Mayenne and Helias of La Flèche were at least not ready openly to throw it off. Geoffrey of Mayenne. Geoffrey, who had fought against the Conqueror twenty-five years before,[568] who had betrayed the young commonwealth of Le Mans fifteen years before,[569] must have been now advanced in life; but we shall still hear of him for some years to come. Helias. Helias, the chief hero of later wars, was of a younger generation, and now appears for the first time. His descent and position. He was, it will be remembered, the son of John of La Flèche and of Paula the youngest sister of the last Count Herbert.[570] He was therefore, before any other man in the land, the representative of Cenomannian independence, as distinguished both from Norman rule and from Angevin superiority. But his father had, in the Conqueror’s second Cenomannian war, remained faithful to the Norman, alike against commonwealth, Lombard, and Angevin.[571] His son for the present followed the same course. Story of Bishop Howel’s appointment. Bishop Howel was in any case a zealous Norman partisan; according to one story he was a special nominee of the Conqueror, appointed for the express purpose of helping to keep the people of Maine in order. According to the local historian, he had been appointed Dean of Saint Julian’s by his predecessor Arnold, and was, on Arnold’s death, freely and unanimously chosen to the bishopric.[572] In Normandy it was believed that King William, on Arnold’s death, offered the bishopric to one of his own clerks, Samson of Bayeux, who declined the offer on the ground that a bishop, according to apostolic rule, ought to be blameless, while he himself was a grievous sinner in many ways. The King said that Samson must either take the bishopric himself or find some fit person in his stead. Samson recommends him for the see. Samson made his nomination at once. There was in the King’s chapel a clerk, poor, but of noble birth and of virtuous life, Howel by name, and, as his name implied, of Breton birth or descent.[573] He was the man to be bishop of Le Mans. Howel was at once sent for. He came, not knowing to what end he was called. Young in years, slight and mean in figure, he had not the stately presence with which Walcher of Durham had once impressed the mind of Eadgyth, perhaps of William himself.[574] But Howel was not called upon, like Walcher, to be a goodly martyr, but only a confessor on a small scale. William was at first tempted to despise the unconscious candidate for the chair of Saint Julian. But Samson, who, sinner as he may have been, seems not to have been a bad preacher or reasoner, warned the King that God looked not at the outward appearance, but at the heart. William examined further into Howel’s life and conversation, and presently gave him the temporal investiture of the bishopric.[575] At the same time a congé d’élire went to Le Mans, which led to Howel’s “pure and simple” election by the Chapter.[576] A point both of canon and of feudal law turned up. Temporal relations of the bishopric of Le Mans. The old dispute between the Norman Duke and the Angevin Count about the advowson of the bishopric had never been settled; the Peace of Blanchelande was silent on that point. Legally there can be no doubt that the true temporal superior of the Bishop of Le Mans was neither Fulk nor William, but their common, if forgotten, lord King Philip.[577] But, whoever might be his temporal lord, no one doubted that the Bishop of Le Mans was a suffragan, and the suffragan highest in rank, of the Archbishop of Tours.[578] Yet, as things stood, as Tours was in the dominions of Fulk, a subject of William who went to that metropolis for consecration might have been called on to enter into some engagement inconsistent with his Norman loyalty. Howel consecrated at Rouen. April 21, 1085. By a commission therefore from Archbishop Ralph of Tours, Howel received consecration at Rouen from the Primate of the Normans, William the Good Soul.[579]

This story is worth telling, as it is thoroughly characteristic of the Conqueror; but there is this difficulty about it, that we can hardly understand either how the historian of the Bishops of Le Mans could fail to know the succession of the deans of his own church, or else how the head of the chapter of Saint Julian’s could be lurking as a poor clerk in King William’s chapel. Be this as it may, there is thorough agreement as to the episcopal virtues of Howel, as to his zeal in continuing the works in the church of Saint Julian,[580] Howel’s Norman loyalty. and as to his unwavering loyalty to the Norman house. And, builder and adorner of the sanctuary as he was, he did not scruple to rob the altars of the saints of their gold and silver to feed the poor in the day of hunger.[581] His loyalty to Robert seems to have carried with it, for a time at least, the submission of the city. Robert before Le Mans. The Duke drew near at the head of his army. Bishop Odo was again in harness as one of his nephew’s chief captains. With him came not a few of the lords who had seized castles in the Duke’s despite, but who were nevertheless ready to follow his banner. There was the elder Ralph of Toesny, he who had taken the strange message to King Henry after the day of Mortemer, and who had refused to bear the banner of Normandy on the day of Senlac.[582] With him was his nephew, William of Breteuil, the elder and more lucky of the two sons of William Fitz-Osbern. He had been one of Robert’s companions in his day of rebellion, along with the younger Ralph of Toesny and with Robert of Bellême, now their enemy.[583] The host entered Le Mans without resistance, and was received, we are told, with joy by clergy and citizens alike.[584] Messages were sent forth to summon the chief men of the county to come and do their duty to their new lord. Helias came; so did Geoffrey of Mayenne. General submission of the county. When two such leaders submitted, others naturally followed their example. All the chief men of Maine, it would seem, became the liegemen of Duke Robert. Ballon holds out. One obstinate rebel alone, Pagan or Payne of Montdoubleau, defended with his followers the castle of Ballon against the new prince.[585]

The castle of Ballon. The fortress which still held out, one whose name we shall again meet with more than once in the immediate story of the Red King, was a stronghold indeed. About twelve miles north of Le Mans a line of high ground ends to the north in a steep bluff rising above the Cenomannian Orne, the lesser stream of that name which mingles its waters with the Sarthe. The river is not the same prominent feature in the landscape which the Sarthe itself is at Le Mans and at some of the other towns and castles which it washes; it does not in the same way flow directly at the foot of the hill. But it comes fully near enough to place Ballon in the long list of peninsular strongholds. The hill forms a prominent feature in the surrounding landscape; and the view from the height itself, over the wooded plains and gentle hills of Maine, is wide indeed. He who held Ballon against the lord of Normandy, the new lord of Le Mans, might feel how isolated his hillfort stood in the midst of his enemies. To the south Le Mans is seen on its promontory; and, if the mighty pile of Saint Julian’s had not yet reached its present height, yet the twin towers of Howel, the royal tower by their side, the abbey of Saint Vincent then rising above all, may well have caught the eye even more readily than it is caught by the somewhat shapeless mass of the cathedral church in its present state. To the north and north-west the eye stretches over lands which in any normal state of things would have been the lands of enemies, the lands of the houses of Montgomery and Bellême. But at the moment of Robert’s siege the defenders of Ballon must have looked to them as friendly spots, joined in common warfare against the Norman Duke. To the north the eye can reach beyond the Norman border at now rebellious Alençon, to the butte of Chaumont, the isolated hill which looks down upon the Rock of Mabel. To the north-east the horizon skirts the land, at other times the most dangerous of all, but which might now be deemed the most helpful, the native home of the fierce house of Talvas. But, even if Ballon had been begirt on all sides by foes, its defenders might well venture to hope that they could defy them all. The hill had clearly been a stronghold even from præhistoric times. The neck of the promontory is cut off by a vast ditch, which may have fenced in a Cenomannian fortress in days before Cæsar came. This ditch takes in the little town of Ballon with its church. A second ditch surrounds the castle itself, and is carried fully round it on every side. The castle of Ballon therefore does not, like so many of its fellows, strictly overhang the stream or the low ground at its foot. At no point does it, like many other fortresses in the same land, mingle its masonry with the native rock. Ballon is more like Arques[586] on a smaller scale than like any of the strictly river fortresses. Within the ditch, the wall of the castle remains, a gateway, a tower, a house of delicate detail; but every architectural feature at Ballon is later than the days of Rufus; the greater part of the present castle belongs to the latest days of mediæval art. Siege of Ballon. This stronghold, to be fought for over and over again in the course of our story, now underwent the earliest of its sieges which concerns us. August-September, 1088. It held out stoutly for some time during the months of August and September. The loss on both sides was great. At last the besieged The castle surrenders.surrendered, and were admitted to the Duke’s grace.[587] Robert was for a moment the undisputed lord of all Maine.

Further schemes of Odo. The first part of Bishop Odo’s counsel was thus successfully carried out. But the submission of Maine was in Odo’s scheme only a means to the thorough rooting out of the house of Bellême. And Robert found himself in such sure possession of Le Mans and Maine that he could call on the warriors of city and county to follow him in carrying out the second part of the Bishop’s scheme. Robert attacks Saint Cenery. The first point for attack among the fortresses held on behalf of Earl Roger or his captive son was the castle of Saint Cenery. Description and history of the fortress. This was a border fortress of Normandy and Maine, one which could boast of a long and stirring history, and its small remains still occupy a site worthy of the tale which they have to tell. Just within the Norman border, some miles west of the town and castle of Alençon, not far from the junction of the lesser stream of Sarthon with the boundary river, a long narrow peninsula is formed by the windings of the Sarthe. It forms an advanced post of Normandy thrust forward with the Cenomannian land on three sides of it. The greater part of the peninsula consists of a steep and rocky hill,[588] which, as it draws near to its point, is washed by the stream on either side, though nearer to the isthmus the height rises immediately above alluvial meadows between its base and the river. The site was a tempting one for the foundation of a castle, in days when, though there might be hostile ground on three sides, yet no bow-shot or catapult from any hostile point could reach the highest part of the hill. Yet, as the name of the place is ecclesiastical, so its earliest memories are ecclesiastical, and its occupation as a fortress was, in the days of our story, a thing of yesterday. Cenericus or Cenery, a saint of the seventh century, gave the place its name. Monastery of Saint Cenery.A monastery arose, where a hundred and forty monks prayed around the tomb of their patron. His memory is still cherished on his own ground. A church contemporary with our story, a church of the eleventh century crowned by a tower of the twelfth, rises boldly above the swift stream which flows below the three apses of its eastern end. Within, the art of a later but still early age has adorned its walls with the forms of a series of holy persons, among whom the sainted hero of the spot holds a chief place.[589] But if the name of Saint Cenery first suggests the ecclesiastical history of the place, its surname[590] marks a chief feature in its secular history. The place is still Saint Cenery-le-Gerey. That is, it keeps the name of the famous house of Geroy, the name so dear to the heart of the monk of Saint Evroul.[591] For the monastery of Saint Cenery was but short-lived. The monks flee to Château-Thierry. When the wiking Hasting was laying waste the land, the monks of Saint Cenery fled away with the body of their patron, like that of Saint Cuthberht in our own land, to the safer resting-place of Château-Thierry in the land of Soissons.[592] As things now stand, the peninsula of Saint Cenery, with its church and the site of its castle, might suggest, as a lesser object suggests, a greater, the grouping of abbey and castle on that more renowned peninsula where the relics of Saint Cuthberht at last found shelter. The forsaken monastery was never restored. The holy place lost its holiness; over the tombs of the ancient monks arose a den of thieves, a special fortress of crime.[593] In other words, after a century and a half of desolation, a castle arose on the tempting site which was supplied by the neck of the peninsula.[594] Fragments of its masonry may still be seen, and its precinct seems to have taken in the church and the whole peninsula, though in the greater part of its circuit no defence was needed beyond the steep and scarped sides of the rocky hill itself. The castle founded by Geoffrey of Mayenne for William of Geroy.The castle was the work of a man whose name has been familiar to us for thirty years, a man who was still living, and who was actually in the host before the fortress of his own rearing. Geoffrey of Mayenne was closely connected, as kinsman and as lord, with William the son of Geroy. When Geoffrey fell into the hands of William Talvas, the faithful vassal ransomed his lord by the sacrifice of his own castle of Montacute, which stood just beyond the Sarthon within the borders of Maine. To repair this loss of his friend, no doubt also to repay the invasion of Cenomannian soil by a like invasion of Norman soil, and to put some check in the teeth of the house of Bellême, Geoffrey built the castle of Saint Cenery on the left bank of the Sarthe, and gave it as a gift of thankfulness to the son of Geroy.[595] But the inhabitants of the new stronghold, in their dangerous border position, never knew peace or good luck, but were visited with every kind of evil.[596] History of the descendants of Geroy. The sons of the pious and virtuous Geroy yielded to the influence of the spot; they fell into crime and rebellion, and were punished by banishments and strange deaths. The second lord of Saint Cenery, Robert the brother of William, had rebelled against the Conqueror; he had held his fortress against him, and he had died in a mysterious way of a poisoned apple.[597] His son and successor Arnold found how dangerous was the greed and hate of a powerful and unscrupulous neighbour. Roche-Mabille. Nearly north from Saint Cenery, at much the same distance as Alençon is to the east, not far from the foot of the hill of Chaumont which makes so marked a feature in the whole surrounding landscape, on a peninsula formed by a bend of the Sarthon, just within the borders of Maine as Saint Cenery is just within the borders of Normandy, rises the solitary rock which once had been known as Jaugy. There we still trace the ruins of the castle which bore the name of the cruel Countess, the despoiler of the house of Jaugy, the castle of the Rock of Mabel.[598] To the possessor of the Rock of Mabel the mightier rock of Saint Cenery, forming part of the same natural line of defence, could not fail to be an object of covetousness. Arnold died of poison, by the practice of the ruthless wife of Roger of Montgomery. Saint Cenery seized by Mabel. Saint Cenery became part of the possessions of the fierce line of Bellême; and, under its present master, it doubtless deserved the strongest of the names bestowed on it by the monk of Saint Evroul.

Saint Cenery held by Robert Carrel. At this moment Saint Cenery was held on behalf of Robert of Bellême by a specially valiant captain named Robert Carrel.[599] We have no details of the siege. We are told nothing of the positions occupied by the besiegers, The siege. or how they became masters of the seemingly impregnable height. We are told that the resistance was long and fierce; Surrender of Saint Cenery. but at last the castle was taken; and, as failure of provisions is spoken of as the cause, we may guess that the garrison was driven to surrender. If so, the surrender must have been to the Duke’s mercy, and the mercy of Duke Robert or of his counsellors was cruel. Robert Carrel blinded. The Duke, we are told, in his wrath, ordered the eyes of Robert Carrel to be put out. The personal act of the Duke in the case of the rebel leader seems to be contrasted with Other mutilations.the sentence of a more regular tribunal of some kind, by which mutilations of various kinds were dealt out to others of the garrison.[600] Yet personal cruelty is so inconsistent with the ordinary character of Robert that we are driven to suppose either that some strong personal influence was brought to bear on the Duke’s mind, or else that Robert Carrel had given some unpardonable offence during the course of the siege. But it is worth while to notice the words which seem to imply that the punishment of the other defenders of Saint Cenery was the work of some body which at least claimed to act in a judicial character. Question of the military tribunal. We can hardly look as yet for the subtlety of a separate military jurisdiction, for what we should now call a court-martial. That can hardly be thought of, except in the case of a standing body of soldiers, like Cnut’s housecarls, with a constitution and rules of their own.[601] But as in free England we have seen the army—that is, the nation in arms—act on occasion the part of a national assembly, so in more aristocratic Normandy the same principle would apply in another shape. The chief men of Normandy were there, each in command of his own followers. If Robert or his immediate counsellors wished that the cruel punishments to be dealt out to the revolted garrison should not be merely their own work, if they wished the responsibility of them to be shared by a larger body, the means were easy. There was a court of peers ready at hand, before whom they might arraign the traitors.

Claims of Robert, grandson of Geroy. But if there were those within Saint Cenery who were marked for punishment, there was one without its walls who claimed restitution. A son of Geroy’s son Robert, bearing his father’s name, had, like others of his family, served with credit in the wars of Apulia and Sicily. He was now in the Duke’s army, seemingly among the warriors of Maine, ready to play his part in winning back the castle of his father from the son of the murderess of his uncle. Geoffrey of Mayenne and the rest of the Cenomannian leaders asked of the Duke that the son of the former owner of the castle, Geoffrey’s own kinsman and vassal, should be restored to the inheritance of his father, the inheritance which his father held in the first instance by Geoffrey’s own gift. The warfare which was now waging was waged against the son of the woman by whom one lord of Saint Cenery had been treacherously slain. The triumph of right would be complete, if the banished man were restored to his own, at the prayer of the first giver. The castle granted to him. The Duke consented; Saint Cenery was granted afresh to the representative of the house of Geroy; Geoffrey saw the castle of his own rearing once more in friendly hands. The new lord strengthened the defences of his fortress, and held it as a post to be guarded with all care against the common enemy, the son of Mabel.[602]

Two fortresses were thus won from the revolters; and the success of the Duke at both places, his severity at one of them, had their effect on those who still defended other castles for Robert of Bellême.[603] Surrender of Alençon,
of Bellême. Alençon, where the great William had wrought so stern a vengeance for the mockeries of its citizens, stood ready to receive his son without resistance. So did Bellême itself, the fortress which gave its name to the descendants of the line of Talvas, the centre of their power, where their ancient chapel of Mabel’s day still crowns the elder castle hill, standing, isolated below the town and fortress of later date.[604] Its defenders made up their minds to submit to the summons of the Duke, if only the Duke would come near to summon them. The other castles ready to surrender. So did the garrisons of all the other castles which still remained in rebellion. Frightened at the doom of Robert Carrel and his companions, they stood ready to surrender as soon as the Duke should come. But it is not clear whether the Duke ever did draw near to receive the fortresses which were ready to open their gates to him. Robert had had enough of success, or of the exertions which were needful for success. It would almost seem as if the siege of Saint Cenery had been as much as he could go through, and as if he turned back at once on its surrender. At all events he stopped just when complete victory was within his grasp. He longed for the idle repose of his palace. Robert disbands his army. His army was disbanded; every man who followed the Duke’s banner had the Duke’s licence to go to his own home.[605]

Robert of Bellême still in prison. All this while, it will be remembered, Robert of Bellême himself was actually in bonds in the keeping of Bishop Odo. The war had been waged rather against his father Earl Roger than against himself. But it was wholly on Robert’s account that it had been waged. Whatever we may think of the right or wrong of his imprisonment at the moment when it took place, there can be no doubt that it was for the general good of the Norman duchy that Robert of Bellême should be hindered from doing mischief. He was the arch-rebel against his sovereign, the arch-plunderer of his neighbours, the man who, in that fierce age, was branded by common consent as the cruellest of the cruel. It was to break his power, to win back the castles which he had seized, that the hosts of Normandy and Maine had been brought together; it was for the crime of maintaining his cause that Robert Carrel and his comrades had undergone their cruel punishment. But the fates of the chief and of his subaltern were widely different. Duke Robert, weary of warfare, was even more than ever disposed to mercy, that is more than ever disposed to gratify the biddings of a weak good-nature. Earl Roger prays for his son’s release. Earl Roger marked the favourable moment, when the host was disbanded, and when the Duke had gone back to the idle pleasures of Rouen. He sent eloquent messengers, charged with many promises in his name—promises doubtless of good behaviour on the part of his son—and prayed for the release of the prisoner.[606] With Duke Robert an appeal of this kind from a man like Earl Roger went for more than all reasonable forethought for himself and his duchy. The welfare of thousands was sacrificed to a weak pity for one man. Robert of Bellême set free.Robert of Bellême was set free. His promises were of course forgotten; gratitude and loyalty were forgotten. Till a wiser sovereign sent him in after days to a prison from which there was no escape, he went on with his His career.career of plunder and torture, of utter contempt and defiance of the ducal authority.[607] But, under such a prince as Robert, contempt and defiance of the ducal authority was no disqualification for appearing from time to time as a ducal counsellor.[608]

Robert of Bellême was thus set free, because his father had asked for his freedom. A prince who sought to keep any kind of consistency in his acts could hardly have kept his own brother Henry in ward one moment after the prison doors were opened to his fellow-captive. But it would seem that the gaol-delivery at Bayeux did not follow at once on that at Neuilly. Henry set free. Henry was still kept in his prison, till, at the general request of all the chief lords of Normandy, he was set free.[609] He went back to his county of the Côtentin with no good will to either of his brothers.[610] Here he strove to strengthen himself in every way, by holding the castles of his principality, by winning friends and hiring mercenaries. Henry strengthens his castles. He strengthened the castles of Coutances and Avranches, those of Cherbourg by the northern rocks and of Gavray in the southern part of the Côtentin. His partisans. Among his counsellors and supporters were some men of note, as Richard of Redvers, and the greater name of the native lord of Avranches, Earl Hugh of Chester.[611] Indeed all the lords of the Côtentin stood by their Count, save only the gloomy, and perhaps banished, Robert of Mowbray, Earl of Northumberland. That we find the lords of two English earldoms thus close together in a corner of Normandy shows how thoroughly the history of the kingdom and that of the duchy form at this moment one tale. His good government. While the Count and Ætheling was strengthened by such support, the land of Coutances and Avranches enjoyed another moment of peace and order, while the rest of Normandy was torn in pieces by the quarrels of Robert of Bellême and his like.

§ 2. The first Successes of William Rufus.
1090.

Schemes of William Rufus. While the duchy of Normandy had thus become one scene of anarchy under the no-government of its nominal prince, the King of the English had been carefully watching the revolutions of his brother’s dominions. He now deemed that the time had come to avenge the wrongs which he deemed that he had suffered at his brother’s hands. He must have seen that he had not much to fear from a prince who had let slip such advantages as Robert had held in his hands after the taking of Saint Cenery. He watched his time; he made his preparations, and was now ready to take the decisive step of crossing the sea himself or sending others to cross it. But even William Rufus in all his pride and self-confidence knew that it did not depend wholly on himself to send either native or adopted Englishmen on such an errand. He had learned enough of English constitutional law not to think of venturing on a foreign war without the constitutional sanction of his kingdom. He consults the Assembly at Winchester. Easter, 1090.In a Gemót at Winchester, seemingly the Easter Gemót of the third year of his reign,[612] he laid his schemes before the assembled Witan, and obtained their consent to a war with the Duke of the Normans. His speech. If we may trust the one report which we have of his speech, William the Red had as good reasons to give for an invasion of Normandy as his father had once had to give for an invasion of England. He went forth to avenge the wrongs which his brother had done to him, the rebellion which he had stirred up in his kingdom. But he went also from the purest motives of piety and humanity. The prince who had tried to deprive him of his dominions had shown himself utterly unable to rule his own. A cry had come into the ears of him, the Red King, to which he could not refuse to hearken. It was the cry of the holy Church, the cry of the widow and the orphan. All were alike oppressed by the thieves and murderers whom the weakness of Robert allowed to do their will throughout the Norman land. That land looked back with a sigh to the days of William the Great, who had saved Normandy alike from foreign and from domestic foes. It became his son, the inheritor of his name and crown, to follow in his steps, and to do the same work again. He called on all who had been his father’s men, on all who held fiefs of his granting in Normandy or in England, to come forward and show their prowess for the deliverance of the suffering duchy.[613] But it was for them to take counsel and to decide. His constitutional language. Let the Assembly declare its judgement on his proposal. His purpose was, with their consent, to send over an army to Normandy, at once to take vengeance for his own wrongs, and to carry out the charitable work of delivering the Church and the oppressed, and of chastising evil-doers with the sword of justice.[614]

This constitutional language in the mouth of William Rufus sounds somewhat strange in our ears; the profession of high and holy purposes sounds stranger still. There is of course no likelihood that we are reading a genuine report of an actual speech; still the words of our historian are not without their value. No one would have been likely to invent those words, unless they had fairly represented the relations which still existed between a King of the English and the Assembly of his kingdom. The piety may all come from the brain of the monk of Saint Evroul; Its witness to constitutional usage. but the constitutional doctrines which he has worked into the speech cannot fail to set forth the ordinary constitutional usage of the time. Even in the darkest hour in which England had any settled government at all, in the reign of the worst of all our kings, it was not the will of the King alone, not the will of any private cabal or cabinet, but the will of the Great Council of the nation, which, just as in the days of King Eadward,[615] decided questions of peace and war.

The Witan unanimously agreed to the King’s proposal, and applauded, so we are told, the lofty spirit—the technical name is used—of the King himself.[616] War voted by the Witan. War was at once voted, and it might have been expected that a brilliant campaign would at once have followed on the warlike vote. We might have looked to see the Red King, the mirror of chivalry, cross the sea, as his father had done on the opposite errand, at the head of the whole force of his realm. We might have looked to see a series of gallant feats of arms take place between the two hostile brothers. The real story is widely different. The King stays in England. William Rufus did not cross the sea till a year after war had been declared, and remarkably little fighting happened, both while he stayed in England and after he set forth for Normandy. His policy. But we have seen that William Rufus, as a true Norman, was, with all his chivalry, at least as much fox as lion.[617] And a ruler of England, above all, a son of William the Great, had many weapons at his command, one only of which could the Duke of the Normans hope to withstand with weapons of the like kind. His advantages in a a struggle with Robert. Robert was in his own person as stout a man-at-arms as Rufus, and, if the chivalry of Normandy could only be persuaded to rally round his banner, he might, as the valiant leader of a valiant host, withstand on equal terms any force that the island monarch could bring against him. But courage, and, we may add, whenever he chose to use it, real military skill, were the only weapons which Robert had at his bidding. The armoury of the Red King contained a choice of many others, any one of which alone might make courage and military skill wholly useless. William, headstrong as he often showed himself, could on occasion bide his time as well as his father, and, well as he loved fighting, he knew that a land in such a state as Normandy was under Robert could be won by easier means. Besides daring and generalship equal to that of Robert, Rufus had statecraft; and he was not minded to use even his generalship as long as his statecraft could serve his turn. He knew, or his ready wit divined, that there were men of all classes in Normandy who would be willing to do his main work for him without his striking a blow, without his crossing the sea in person, almost without a blow being struck in his behalf. He had only to declare himself his brother’s rival, and it was the interest of most of the chief men in Normandy to support his claims against his brother. Interest of the chief Normans. The very same motives which had led the Normans in England to revolt against William on behalf of Robert would now lead the Normans in Normandy to revolt against Robert on behalf of William. Norman nobles and land-owners who held lands on both sides of the sea had deemed it for their interest that one lord should rule on both sides of the sea. They had then deemed it for their interest that that lord should be Robert rather than William. The former doctrine still kept all its force; on the second point they had learned something by experience. Position of William and Robert. If England and Normandy were to have one sovereign, that sovereign must needs be William and not Robert. There was not the faintest chance of placing Robert on the royal throne of England; there was a very fair chance of placing William in the ducal chair of Normandy. Simply as a ruler, as one who commanded the powers of the state and the army, William had shown that he had it in his power to reward and to punish. Robert had shown that it was quite beyond his power to reward or to punish anybody. He who drew on himself the wrath of the King was likely enough to lose his estates in England; he who drew on himself the wrath of the Duke had no need to be fearful of losing his estates in Normandy. Power of William’s wealth. And William had the means of making a yet more direct appeal to the interests of not a few of his brother’s subjects, in a way in which it was still more certain that his brother would not appeal to any of his subjects. The hoard at Winchester was still well filled. If it had been largely drawn upon, it was again filled to the brim with treasures brought in by every kind of unrighteous exactions. Already was the land “fordone with unlawful gelds;”[618] but the King had the profit of them. But there was no longer any hoard at Rouen out of which Robert could hire the choicest troops of all lands to defend his duchy, as William could hire them to attack it. Hiring of mercenaries. And the wealth at William’s command might do much even without hiring a single mercenary. The castles of Normandy were strong; but few of them were so strong that, in the words of King Philip—Philip of Macedon, not Philip of France—an Bribes. ass laden with gold could not find its way into them.[619] Armed at all points, master alike of gold and steel, able to work himself and to command the services of others alike with the head and with the hand, William Rufus could, at least in contending with Robert, conquer when he chose and how he chose. Bribes. He conquers without leaving England. And for a while he chose, like the Persian king of old, to win towns and castles without stirring from his hearth.[620]

Edwᵈ. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

Map illustrating the
NORMAN CAMPAIGN.
A.D. 1091.

Submission of Saint Valery. The first point of the mainland which the Red King won was one which lay beyond the strict bounds of the Norman duchy; but no spot, either in Normandy or in England, was more closely connected with the fortunes of his house. And it was one which had a certain fitness as the beginning of such a campaign. The first spot of continental ground which was added to the dominion of one who called himself King of the English, and who at least was truly King of England, was the spot from which his father had set forth for the conquest of England. He won it by the means which were specially his own. “By his cunning or by his treasures he gat him the castle at Saint Valery and the havens.”[621] Englishmen had fought for the elder William in Maine and before Gerberoi;[622] but that was merely to win back the lost possessions of the Norman Duke. Now the wealth and the arms of England were used to win castles beyond the sea for a prince whose possessions and whose titles up to that moment were purely English. Beginning of English action on the continent. In the history of England as a power—and the history of England as a power had no small effect on the history of the English as a people—the taking of Saint Valery is the beginning of a chain of events which leads on, not only to the fight of Tinchebray and the first loss of Rouen, but to the fight of Crecy and the fight of Chastillon, to the taking of Boulogne and the loss of Calais.

Saint Valery had, by the forced commendation of the still reigning Count Guy, passed under Norman superiority;[623] but it was no part of the true Norman land. Submission of Stephen of Aumale. The first fortress within the Norman duchy which passed into the hands of Rufus was the castle of Aumale, standing just within the Norman border, on the upper course of the river of Eu. Its lord, the first of the great Norman nobles to submit to William and to receive his garrison into his castle, was Stephen, son of Count Odo of Champagne and of Adelaide, whole sister of the Conqueror, cousin-german therefore of the two contending princes.[624] Aumale was won, as Saint Valery had been won, by cunning or by treasure. Stephen may simply have learned to see that it was better for him to have the same lord at Aumale and in Holderness, or his eyes may have been yet further enlightened by the brightness of English gold. But the Red King had other means at his disposal, and it seems that other means were needed, if not to win, at least to keep Aumale. Aumale strengthened as the King’s headquarters. The defences of the castle were greatly strengthened at the King’s cost,[625] and it became a centre for further operations. “Therein he set his knights, and they did harms upon the land, in harrying and in burning.”[626] Other castles were soon added to the Red King’s dominion. Submission of Count Robert of Eu and his son William; Count Robert of Eu, whom we have heard of alike at Mortemer and in Lindesey,[627] the father of the man whom we have more lately heard of at Berkeley, still held the house where William the Great had received Harold as his guest,[628] hard by the church where he had received Matilda as his bride.[629] The Count had been enriched with lands in southern England; he is not recorded as having joined in his son’s rebellion; and the lord of Eu now transferred the allegiance of his Norman county to the prince of whom he held his command on the rocks of Hastings.[630] Aumale and Eu, two of the most important points on the eastern border of Normandy, are thus the first places which we hear of as receiving Rufus on the mainland. We shall hear of both names again, but in quite another kind of tale, before the reign of Rufus is over.

of Gerard of Gournay. The next Norman noble to join the cause of William was another lord of the same frontier, who held a point of hardly less importance to the south of Eu and Aumale. This was Gerard of Gournay, son of the warrior of Mortemer who had gone to end his days as a monk of Bec,[631] son-in-law of the new Earl of Surrey,[632] husband of perhaps the only woman on Norman ground who bore the name of English Eadgyth.[633] His castle of Gournay, from which many men and more than one place[634] in England have drawn their name, stood on the upper course of the Epte, close to the French border. The fortress itself has vanished; The church of Gournay. but the minster of Saint Hildebert, where the massive work of Gerard’s day has been partly recast in the lighter style of the next century, still remains, with its mighty pillars, its varied and fantastic carvings, to make Gournay a place of artistic pilgrimage. Nor is it hard to trace the line of the ancient walls of the town, showing how the border stream of Epte was pressed into the service of the Norman engineers. The adhesion of the lord of Gournay seems to have been of the highest importance to the cause of Rufus. The influence of Gerard reached over a wide district north of his main dwelling. Other castles of Gerard. Along with Gournay, he placed at the King’s disposal his fortress of La Ferté Saint Samson, crowning a height looking over the vale of Bray, and his other fortress of Gaillefontaine to the north-east, on another height by the wood of its own name, overlooking the early course of the Bethune or Dieppe, the stream which joins the eastern Varenne by the hill of Arques.[635] Gerard too was not only ready in receiving the King’s forces into his own castles, but zealous also in bringing over his neighbours to follow his example.[636] Among these was the lord of Wigmore, late the rebel of Worcester, Ralph of Mortemer.[637] Submission of Earl Walter Giffard. Old Walter Giffard too, now Earl of Buckingham in England, had English interests far too precious to allow him to oppose his island sovereign. His castle of Longueville. He held the stronghold of Longueville—the north-eastern Longueville by the Scie, the stream which, small as it is, pours its waters independently into the Channel between Dieppe and Saint Valery-in-Caux. There, from a bottom fenced in by hills on every side, the village, the church where the hand of the modern destroyer has spared only a few fragments of the days of Norman greatness, the priory which has been utterly swept away, all looked up to a hill on the right bank of the stream which art had changed into a stronghold worthy to rank alongside of Arques and Gisors. Girt about with a deep ditch, on the more exposed southern side with a double ditch, the hill was crowned by a shell-keep which still remains, though patched and shattered, and a donjon which has been wholly swept away. In this fortress the aged warrior of Arques and Senlac received, like so many of his neighbours, the troops which William of England had sent to bring the Norman duchy under his power.

Ralph of Toesny and Count William of Evreux. The domains of all these lords lay in the lands on the right bank of the Seine, the oldest, but, as I have often remarked, not the truest Normandy. But the Red King also won a valuable ally in quite another part of the duchy. This was Ralph of Conches or of Toesny, with whom we are now most concerned as the husband of the warlike Isabel of Montfort, and, in that character rather than in any other, the enemy of the Countess Heloise and of her husband Count William of Evreux. The rival lords were in fact half-brothers. The old Roger of Toesny, the warlike pilgrim of Spain,[638] was succeeded by Ralph, who has so often played his part in our story, and whom we last met in Duke Robert’s army before Le Mans.[639] The widow of Roger, the mother of Ralph, had married Richard Count of Evreux, and was by him the mother of the present Count William.[640] Enmity of their wives. But this near kindred by birth had less strength to bind the brothers together than the fierce rivalry of their wives had to set them at feud with one another. The jealousy of these two warlike ladies kept a large part of Normandy in a constant uproar. Our historian bitterly laments the amount of bloodshed and havoc which was the result of their rivalry.[641] Countess Heloise of Evreux. Heloise was of the house of the Counts of Nevers, the Burgundian city by the Loire, a descent which carries us a little out of our usual geographical range.[642] Tall, handsome, and ready of speech, she ruled her husband and the whole land of Evreux with an absolute sway. Her will was everything; the counsels of the barons of the county went for nothing.[643] Violent and greedy, she quarrelled with many of the nobles of Normandy, with Count Robert of Meulan among them, and stirred up her husband to many disputes and wars to gratify her fierce passions.[644] At this time some slight which she had received from the lady of Conches had led her to entangle her husband in a bitter feud with his half-brother. Isabel of Montfort. Isabel or Elizabeth—the two names are, as usual, given to her indifferently—the wife of Ralph of Toesny, was a daughter of the French house of Montfort,[645] the house of our own Simon. Like her rival, she must now have been long past her youth; but, while Heloise was childless,[646] Isabel was the mother of several children, among them of a son who has already played a part in Norman history. This was that younger Ralph of Toesny who married the daughter of Waltheof and who had taken a part in the present Duke’s rebellion against his father.[647] Handsome, eloquent, self-willed, and overbearing, like her rival, Isabel had qualities which gained her somewhat more of personal regard than the Countess of Evreux. She was liberal and pleasant and merry of speech, and made herself agreeable to those immediately about her. Moreover, while of Heloise we read indeed that she stirred up wars, but not that she waged them in her own person, Isabel, like the ancient Queens of the Amazons, went forth to the fight, mounted and armed, and attended by a knightly following.[648] War between Conches and Evreux. The struggle between the ladies of Evreux and Conches was at its height at the moment when the castles of eastern Normandy were falling one by one into the hands of Rufus. Isabel and Ralph were just now sore pressed. Ralph in vain asks help of the Duke. The lord of Conches therefore went to Duke Robert and craved his help;[649] but from Duke Robert no help was to be had for any man. Ralph then bethought him of a stronger protector, in the sovereign of his English possessions. He submits to William.King William gladly received such a petition, and bade Count Stephen and Gerard of Gournay, and all who had joined him in Normandy, to give all the help that they could to the new proselyte.[650] Advance of William’s party. The cause of the Red King prospered everywhere; well nigh all Normandy to the right of Seine was in the obedience of Rufus. All its chief men had, in a phrase which startles us in that generation, “joined the English.”[651] And for them the King of the English was open-handed. Into the hoard at Winchester the wealth of England flowed in the shape of every kind of unlawful exaction. Out of it it flowed as freely to enable the new subjects of King William to strengthen the defences of their castles and to hire mercenaries to defend them.[652]

Helias of Saint-Saens. During all this time Duke Robert himself does not seem to have thought of striking a blow. But there was one man at least between Seine and Somme who was ready both to give and to take blows on his behalf. He marries Robert’s daughter. Robert had given one of his natural children, a daughter born, to him in his wandering days,[653] in marriage to Helias, lord of Saint-Saens.[654] Helias, like so many of the Norman nobles, came of a house which had risen to importance His descent.through the loves of Gunnor and Richard the Fearless.[655] A daughter of one of Gunnor’s sisters married Richard Viscount of Rouen, and became the mother of Lambert of Saint-Saens, the father of Helias.[656] Helias and the daughter of Robert had thus a common, though distant, forefather in the father of Gunnor. He has Caux as his wife’s dowry. With his wife Helias received a goodly dowry, nothing less, we are told, than the whole land of Caux.[657] Helias’ own lordship of Saint-Saens lies on the upper course of the Position of Saint-Saens. Varenne, in a deep bottom girt on all sides by wooded hills, one of which, known as the Câtelier, overhanging the town to the north, seems to have been the site of the castle of Helias. His stronghold has vanished; but the church on which the height looks down, if no rival to Saint Hildebert of Gournay, still keeps considerable remains of an age but little later than that with which we have to do. Importance of his position. The possessions of Helias, both those which he inherited and those which he received with his wife, made his resistance to the invader of no small help to the cause of his father-in-law. They barred the nearest way to Rouen, not indeed from Gournay, but from Eu and Aumale. They came right between these last fortresses and the domain of Walter Giffard at Longueville. Of the three streams which meet by Arques, while Helias himself held the upper Varenne at Saint-Saens, Bures. his wife’s fortress of Bures held the middle course of the Bethune or Dieppe below Gerard’s Gaillefontaine, and below Drincourt, not yet the New Castle of King Henry.[658] The massive church, with parts dating from the days of Norman independence, rises on the left slope of the valley above an island in the stream. But the site of the castle which formed part of the marriage portion of Duke Robert’s daughter is hard to trace. Helias holds Arques. But lower down, nearer the point where the streams meet, the bride of Helias had brought him a noble gift indeed. Through her he was lord of Arques, with its donjon and its ditches, the mighty castle whose tale has been told in recording the history of an earlier generation.[659] A glance at the map will show how strong a position in eastern Normandy was held by the man who commanded at once Saint-Saens, Bures, and Arques. But the son-in-law of Duke Robert deserves our notice for something better than his birth, his marriage, or his domains. Faithfulness of Helias towards Robert. Helias of Saint-Saens was, in his personal character, a worthy namesake of Helias of La Flêche. Among the crimes and treasons of that age, we dwell with delight on the unswerving faithfulness with which, through many years and amidst all the ups and downs of fortune, he clave to the reigning Duke and to his son after him.[660] But this his later history lies beyond the bounds of our immediate tale. What directly concerns us now is that Helias was the one noble of Normandy whom the gold of England could not tempt. It would be almost ungenerous to put on record the fact that, unlike most of his neighbours, he had no English estates to lose. The later life of Helias puts him above all suspicion of meaner motives. Saint-Saens, Arques, Bures, and all Caux, remained faithful to Duke Robert.

With this honourable exception, an exception which greatly lessened the value of his new conquests, William Rufus had won, without hand-strokes, without his personal presence, a good half of the original grant to Rolf, the greater part of the diocese of Rouen. William’s dealings with France. He was soon to win yet another triumph by his peculiar policy. By those arms which were specially his own, he was to win over an ally, or at least to secure the neutrality of an enemy, of far higher rank, though perhaps of hardly greater practical power, than the Count of Aumale and the aged lord of Longueville. Robert asks help of Philip. Robert in his helplessness cried to his over-lord at Paris. Had not his father done the same to Philip’s father? Had not King Henry played a part at least equal to that of Duke William among the lifted lances of Val-ès-dunes?[661] Philip had had his jest on the bulky frame of the Conqueror, and his jest had been avenged among the candles of the bloody churching at Mantes.[662] By this time at least, so some of our authorities imply, Philip had brought himself to a case in which the same jest might have been made upon himself with a good deal more of point. Philip comes to help. At the prayer of his vassal the bulky King of the French left his table and his dainties, and set forth, sighing and groaning at the unusual exertion, to come to the help of the aggrieved Duke.[663] It was a strange beginning of the direct rivalry between England and France. Meeting of the Norman and French armies. King Philip came with a great host into Normandy. And Robert must somewhere or other have found forces to join those of his royal ally. And now was shown the value of the position which was held by the faithful Helias in the land of Caux. They march on Eu. It must have been by his help that the combined armies of Robert and Philip were able to march to the furthest point of the Red King’s new acquisitions, to the furthest point of the Norman duchy itself, to the castle of Eu, which was held, we are told, by a vast host, Norman and English.[664] Let an honest voice from Peterborough tell what followed. “And the King and the Earl with a huge fyrd beset the castle about where the King’s men of England in it were. Philip bribed to go back. The King William of England sent to Philip the Franks’ King, and he for his love or for his mickle treasure forlet so his man the Earl Robert and his land, and went again to France and let them so be.”[665] A Latin writer does not think it needful to allow Philip the perhaps ironical alternative of the English writer. Love between Philip and William Rufus is not thought of. We are simply told that, while Philip was promising great things, the money of the King of England met him—the wealth of Rufus seems to be personified. Before its presence his courage was broken; he loosed his girdle and went back to his banquet.[666]

The first English subsidy. Thus the special weapons of Rufus could overcome even kings at a distance. But, ludicrous as the tale sounds in the way in which it is told, this negotiation between Philip and William is really, in an European, and even in an English point of view, the most important event in the whole story. We should hardly be wrong in calling this payment to Philip the first instance of the employment of English money in the shape of subsidies to foreign princes. For such it in strictness was. It was not, like a Danegeld, money paid to buy off a foreign invader. Nor was it like the simple hiring of mercenaries at home or abroad. It is, like later subsidies, money paid to a foreign sovereign, on condition of his promoting, or at least not thwarting, the policy of a sovereign of England. The appetite[667] which was now first awakened in Philip of Paris soon came to be shared by other princes, and it lasted in full force for many ages. First direct dealings between England and France. Again, we have now for the first time direct political dealings between a purely insular King of England—we may forestall the territorial style when speaking of England as a state rather than of Englishmen as a nation—and a French King at Paris. The embassies which passed between Eadward and Henry, even when Henry made his appeal on behalf of Godwine,[668] hardly make an exception. Different position of the two Williams. William the Great had dealt with France as a Norman duke; if, in the latter part of his reign, he had wielded the strength of England as well as the strength of Normandy, he had wielded it, as far as France was concerned, wholly for Norman purposes. But William the Red, though his position arose wholly out of the new relations between England and Normandy, was still for the present a purely English king. Relation of England, Normandy, and France. The first years of Rufus and the first years of Henry the First are alike breaks in the hundred and forty years of union between England and Normandy.[669] Had not a Norman duke conquered England, an English king would not have been seeking to conquer Normandy; but, as a matter of fact, an English king, who had no dominions on the mainland, was seeking to conquer Normandy. And he was seeking to win it with the good will, or at least the neutrality, of the French King. This was a state of things which could have happened only during the few years when different sons of the Conqueror ruled in England and in Normandy. Whenever England and Normandy were united, whether by conquest or by inheritance, the old strife between France and Normandy led England into the struggle. But at the present moment an alliance between England and France against Normandy was as possible as any other political combination. Results of Rufus’ dealings with Philip. And the arts of Rufus secured, if not French alliance, at least French neutrality. But either alliance or neutrality was in its own nature destructive of itself. Let either Normandy win England or England win Normandy, and the old state of things again began. The union of England and Normandy meant enmity between England and France, an enmity which survived their separation.[670] Friendly dealings between William and Philip were a step towards the union of England and Normandy, and thereby a step towards that open enmity between England and France which began under Rufus himself and which lasted down to our fathers’ times. The bribe which Philip took at Eu has its place in the chain of events which led to Bouvines, to Crécy, and to Waterloo.

State of Normandy. But while things were thus, unknown to the actors in them, taking a turn which was permanently to affect the history of mankind, the immediate business of the time went on as before in the lands of Northern Gaul. In Normandy that immediate business was mutual destruction—civil war is too lofty a name; in Maine it was deliverance from the Norman yoke. I am not called on to tell in detail the whole story of every local strife between one Norman baron and another, not even in those rare cases when the Duke himself stepped in as a judge or as a party in the strife. Those who loved nothing so well as slaughter, plunder, and burning, had now to make up for the many years during which the strong hand of William the Great had kept them back from those enjoyments. Private wars not interrupted by the invasion. They had no thought of stopping, though the kings of England and France, or all the kings of the earth, should appear in arms on Norman soil. Many a brilliant feat of arms, as it was deemed in those days, must be left to local remembrance; even at events which closely touched many of the chief names of our story we can do no more than glance. The revolt of Maine will have to be spoken of at length in another chapter; Action of Robert of Bellême. among strictly Norman affairs we naturally find Robert of Bellême playing his usual part towards his sovereign and his neighbours, and we find the tower of Ivry and the fortified hall of Brionne ever supplying subjects of strife to the turbulent nobles. We see Robert of Bellême at war with his immediate neighbour Geoffrey Count of Perche,[671] and driving Abbot Ralph of Seez to seek shelter in England.[672] We also find him beaten back from the walls of Exmes by Gilbert of Laigle and the other warriors of his house, the house of which we have heard in the Malfosse of Senlac and beneath the rocks of Sainte-Susanne.[673] William of Breteuil loses, wins, and loses again, his late grant of the tower of Ivry, and the second time he is driven to give both the tower and the hand of his natural daughter as his own ransom from a specially cruel imprisonment at the hands of a rebellious vassal.[674] Brionne forms the centre of a tale in which its new lord and his son, the other Roger and the other Robert of our story, play over again the part of the Earl of Shrewsbury and his son of Bellême. Robert of Meulan claims the tower of Ivry. Robert of Meulan comes from England to assert his claim among others to the much-contested tower of Ivry. The Duke reminds him that he had given Brionne to his father in exchange for Ivry. The Count of Meulan gives a threatening answer.[675] He is imprisoned, but set free at the intercession of his father. The Duke, with unusual spirit, puts him in prison, seizes Brionne, and puts it into a state of defence. Then the old Roger of Beaumont, old a generation earlier,[676] obtains, by the recital of his own exploits, the deliverance of his son.[677] He then prays, not without golden arguments, for the restitution of Brionne.[678] Robert takes Brionne. The officer in command, Robert son of Baldwin, asserts his own hereditary claim, and, at the head of six knights only, stands a siege, though not a long one, against the combined forces of the Duke and of the Count of Meulan and his father.[679] This siege is remarkable. The summer days were hot; all things were dry; the besiegers shot red-hot arrows against the roof of the fortified hall, and set fire to it.[680] So Duke Robert boasted that he had taken in a day the river-fortress which had held out for three years against his father.[681]

These events concern us only because we know the actors, and because they helped to keep up that state of confusion in the Norman duchy which supplied the Red King at once with an excuse for his invasion, and with the means for carrying out his schemes. Advance of Rufus. It must be remembered that the two stories are actually contemporary; while Robert was besieging Brionne, the fortresses of eastern Normandy were already falling one by one into the hands of Rufus. It is even quite possible that Robert of Meulan’s voyage from England to Normandy, and the demands made by him and his father on the Duke, were actually planned between the cunning Count and the Red King as a means of increasing the confusion which reigned in the duchy. But there are tales of local strife which concern us more nearly. The war of Conches and Evreux. The war of the half-brothers, the war of the Amazons, the strife between Conches and Evreux, between Isabel and Heloise, is an immediate part of the tale of William Rufus. The lord of Conches was strengthened in his struggle with his brother by forces directly sent to his help by the King’s order.[682] Movement at Rouen. The war went on; and, while it was still going on, a far more important movement began in the greatest city of Normandy, a movement in which the King of the English was yet more directly concerned. Up to this time his plans had been everywhere crowned with success. His campaign, if campaign we can call it, had begun soon after Easter. Half a year had passed, and nearly the whole of the oldest, though not the truest, Normandy had fallen into his hands without his stirring out of his island realm. It now became doubtful whether Robert could keep even the capital of his duchy.

November, 1090. The month of November of this year saw stirring scenes alike in the streets of Rouen and beneath the walls of Conches. But, while Conches was openly aided by the King’s troops, no force from England or from the parts of Normandy which William had already won had as yet drawn near to Rouen. Rufus knew other means to gain over the burghers of a great city as well as the lords of castles and smaller towns. State of things in Rouen. The glimpse which we now get of the internal state of the Norman metropolis tells us, like so many other glimpses which are given us in the history of these times, just enough to make us wish to be told more. A state of things is revealed to us which we are not used to in the history of Normandy. Rouen appears for a moment as something like an independent commonwealth, though an enemy might call it a commonwealth which seemed to be singularly bent on its own destruction. The municipal spirit. The same municipal spirit which we have seen so strong at Exeter and at Le Mans[683] shows itself now for a moment at Rouen. We may be sure that under the rule of William the Great no man had dreamed of a commune in the capital of Normandy. His arm, we may be sure, had protected the men of Rouen, like all his other subjects, in the enjoyment of all rights and privileges which were not inconsistent with his own dominion. But in his day Rouen could have seen no demagogues, no tyrants, no armies in civic pay, no dealings of its citizens with any prince other than their own sovereign. But the rule of William the Great was over; in Robert’s days it may well have seemed that the citizens of so great a city were better able to rule themselves, or at all events that they were entitled to choose their own ruler. When the arts of Rufus, his gifts and his promises, began to work at Rouen in the same way in which they had worked on the castles of the eastern border, his agents had to deal, not with a prince or a lord, but with a body of citizens under the leadership of one of whom one doubts whether he should be called a demagogue or a tyrant. We seem to be carried over two hundred and forty years to the dealings of Edward the Third with the mighty brewer of Ghent. Conan demagogue or tyrant. The Artevelde of Rouen was Conan—the name suggests a Breton origin—the son of Gilbert surnamed Pilatus. He was the richest man in the city; his craft is not told us; but we must always remember that a citizen was not necessarily a trader.[684] His wealth was such that it enabled him to feed troops of mercenaries and to take armed knights into his pay.[685] Another leading citizen, next in wealth to Conan, was William the son of Ansgar,[686] whose name seems to imply the purest Norman blood. Conan’s treaty with William. Conan had entered into a treaty with William, the object of which, we are told, was to betray the metropolis of Normandy and the Duke of the Normans—the sleepy Duke, as our guide calls him—into the power of the island King.[687] The citizens favour William. Nor was this merely the scheme of Conan and William; public feeling in the city went heartily with them. A party still clave to the Duke; but the mass of the men of Rouen threw in their lot with Conan, and were, like him, ready to receive William as their sovereign instead of Robert.[688] They may well have thought that, in the present state of things, any change would be for the better; the utter lawlessness of the time, which might have its charms for turbulent nobles, would have no charms for the burghers of a great city. Or the men of Rouen may have argued then, much as the men of Bourdeaux argued ages later, that they were likely to enjoy a greater measure of municipal freedom, under a King of the English, dwelling apart from them in his own island, than they would ever win from a Duke of the Normans, holding his court and castle in Rouen itself. Yet the friends of Robert might have their arguments too. A party for Robert. The party of mere conservatism, the party of order, would naturally cleave to him. But other motives might well come in. True friends of the commune might doubt whether William the Red was likely to be a very safe protector of civic freedom. They might argue that, if they must needs have a master, their liberties were less likely to be meddled with under such a master as Robert. But the party of the Duke’s friends, on whatever grounds it stood by him, was the weaker party. A majority of the citizens was zealous for William. A day fixed for the surrender to William. A day was fixed by Conan with the general consent, on which the city was to be given up,[689] and the King’s forces were invited to come from Gournay and other points in his obedience. Robert sends for help. Robert seems to have stayed in the capital which was passing from him; but he felt that, if he was to have supporters, he must seek for them beyond its walls. He sent to tell his plight to those of the nobles of Normandy in whom he still put any trust.[690] And he also hastened to seek help in a reconciliation with some neighbours and subjects with whom he was at variance.

Henry and Robert of Bellême come to the Duke’s help. It is certainly a little startling, after the history of the past year, to find at the head of the list of Duke Robert’s new allies the names of the Ætheling Henry and of Robert of Bellême. We may well fancy that they took up arms, not so much to support the rights of the Duke against the King as to check the dangerous example of a great city taking upon itself to choose among the claims of kings, dukes, and counts. Danger of the example of Rouen. Robert of Bellême may indeed have simply hastened to any quarter from which the scent of coming slaughter greeted him. But Henry the Clerk could always have given a reason for anything that he did. Popular movements at Rouen might supply dangerous precedents at Coutances. The Count of Coutances too might have better hopes of becoming Duke of Rouen, if Rouen were still held for a while by such a prince as Robert, than he could have if the city became either the seat of a powerful commonwealth or the stronghold of a powerful king. But, from whatever motive, Henry came, and he was the first to come.[691] Others to whom the Duke’s messengers set forth his desolate state[692] came also. Others who help Robert. Robert of Bellême, so lately his prisoner, Count William of Evreux and his nephew William of Breteuil, all hastened, if not to the deliverance of Duke Robert, at least to the overthrow of Conan. And with them came Reginald of Warren, the younger son of William and Gundrada,[693] and Gilbert of Laigle, fresh from his victory over his mightiest comrade.[694] November 3, 1090. At the beginning of November Duke Robert was still in the castle of Rouen; but his brother Henry was now with him within its walls, and the captains Henry at Rouen. who had come to his help were thundering at the gates of the rebellious city.

E. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

ROUEN

Rouen in the eleventh century. The Rouen of those days, like the Le Mans, the York, and the Lincoln, of those days, was still the Roman city, the old Rothomagus. As in those and in countless other cases, large and populous suburbs had spread themselves over the neighbouring country; at Rouen, as at York, those suburbs had passed the river; but the city itself, the walled space to be attacked and defended in wartime, was still of the same extent as it had been in the days before Rolf and before Chlodwig. The rectangular space marking the Roman camp stretched on its southern side nearly to the Seine, whose stream, not yet fenced in by quays, reached further inland on that side than it now does. Position of the city. Rouen is essentially a river city, not a hill city. The metropolitan church does indeed stand on sensibly higher ground than the buildings close to the river; but to one fresh from Le Mans or Chartres the rise which has to be mastered seems trifling indeed. For a hill city the obvious site would have been on the natural akropolis supplied by the height of Saint Katharine to the south-east. Yet Rouen is a city of the mainland; the islands which divide the waters of the Seine must have been tempting points for Rolf in his Wiking days; but even the largest of them, the Isle of the Cross, was hardly large enough for a town to grow upon it. Of the walls of Rothomagus not a fragment is left; yet the impress of a Roman chester is hard to wipe out; it is still easy to trace its lines among the streets and buildings of the greatly enlarged mediæval and modern city. Frightful as has been the havoc which the metropolis of Normandy has undergone in our own time, mercilessly as the besom of destruction has swept over its ancient streets, churches, and houses, the dæmon of modern improvement has spared enough to enable us, if not to tell the towers, yet in idea to mark well the bulwarks, of the city where the Conqueror reigned. The ducal castles. Near the south-west corner of the parallelogram, not far from the river-side, had stood the earlier castle of the Dukes. Its site in after times became the friary of the Cordeliers, a small fragment of whose church, as well as another desecrated church within the castle precinct, does in some faint way preserve the memory of the dwelling-place of Rolf.[695] But by the days of Robert, the dukes had moved their dwelling to the south-eastern corner, also near the river, where the site of the castle is marked by the vast halles, and by the graceful Renaissance porch, where the chapter of our Lady of Rouen yearly, on the feast of the Ascension, exercised the prerogative of mercy by saving one prisoner condemned to die. Here the memory of the castle, though only its memory, lives in the names of the Haute and the Basse Vieille Tour, one of which is soon to be famous in our story. The eastern side of the city. On the eastern side the wall was washed by a small tributary of the Seine, the Rebecq, a stream whose course has withdrawn from sight almost as thoroughly as the Fleet of London or the Frome of Bristol.[696] On this side of the city lay a large swampy tract, whose name of Mala palus still lives in a Rue Malpalu[697], though a more distant part of it has taken the more ambitious name of the Field of Mars. The archbishopric. Within the wall lay the metropolitan church of our Lady and the palace of the Primate of Normandy. If this last reached to anything like its present extent to the east, the Archbishops of Rouen, like the Counts of Maine,[698] must have been reckoned among the men who sat on the wall. Abbey of Saint Ouen. Outside the city, but close under the wall, near its north-eastern corner, stood the great abbey of Saint Ouen, the arch-monastery,[699] still ruled by its Abbot Nicolas, though his long reign was now drawing to an end.[700] At the opposite north-western angle, but much further from the walls, where the higher ground begins to rise above the city, stood the priory of Saint Gervase, the scene of the Conqueror’s death.[701] Priory of Saint Gervase. Saint Gervase indeed stood, not only far beyond the Roman walls, but beyond those fortifications of later times which took Saint Ouen’s within the city. For Rouen grew as Le Mans grew. Castle of Bouvreil. On the higher ground like Saint Gervase, but more to the east, rose the castle of Bouvreil, which Philip of Paris, after the loss of Norman independence, reared to hold down the conquered city. Walls of Saint Lewis. Between his grandfather’s castle and the ancient wall Saint Lewis traced out the newer line of fortification which is marked by the modern boulevards. His walls are gone, as well as the walls of Rothomagus; but of the house of bondage of Philip Augustus one tower still stands, while of the dwelling-place of her own princes even mediæval Rouen had preserved nothing.

The gates. The four sides of the Roman enclosure were of course pierced by the four chief gates of the city, of three of which we hear in our story. Of these the western, the gate of Caux, is in some sort represented by the Renaissance gate of the Great Clock[702] with its adjoining tower. The northern gate bore the name of Saint Apollonius. The river was spanned by at least one bridge, which crossed it by way of the island of the Cross, near the second ducal castle. Suburbs beyond the Seine. Beyond the stream lay the suburb of Hermentrudeville, now Saint Sever, where Anselm had waited during the sickness of the Conqueror.[703] There too the Duchess Matilda, soon to be Queen, had begun the monastery of the meadow, the monastery of our Lady of Good News, the house of Pratum or Pré, whose church still stood unfinished, awaiting the perfecting hand of her youngest son.[704]

Fright of Duke Robert. Meanwhile the elder and best-beloved son of Matilda was trembling within the city on the right bank of the broad river. Luckily he had the presence of his youngest brother, the English Ætheling, the Count of the Côtentin, to strengthen him. Personal courage Duke Robert never lacked at any time; but something more than personal courage was now needed. Robert was perhaps not frightened, but he was puzzled; at such a moment he seemed to the calm judgement of Henry to be simply in the way; it was for wiser heads to take counsel without him. But deliverance was at hand. Both sides of the Seine sent their helpers. Approach of Gilbert and Reginald. Gilbert of Laigle crossed the bridge by the island close under the ducal tower, and turned to the left to the attack of the southern gate. Reginald of Warren at the head of three hundred knights drew near to the gate of Caux.[705] Efforts of Conan. Against this twofold attack Conan strove hard to keep up the hearts of his partisans. He made speeches exhorting to a valiant defence. Division among the citizens. Many obeyed; but the city was already divided; while one party hastened to the southern gate to withstand the assault of Gilbert, another party sped to open the western gate and to let in the forces of Reginald. Utter confusion. Soldiers of the King of the English, the advanced guard doubtless of a greater host to come, were already in the city, stirring up the party of Conan to swifter and fiercer action.[706] Soldiers and citizens were huddled together in wild confusion; shouts passed to and fro for King and Duke; men at either gate smote down neighbours and kinsmen to the sound of either war-cry.[707] The strength of the city was turned against itself. The hopes of the commonwealth of Rouen, either as a free city or as a favoured ally of the island King, were quenched in the blood of its citizens. Le Mans and Exeter had fallen; but they had fallen more worthily than this.

Henry sends Duke Robert away. Meanwhile Henry and those who were with him in the castle deemed that the time had come for the defenders of the ducal stronghold to join their friends within and without the city. But there was one inhabitant of the castle whose presence was deemed an encumbrance at such a moment. Men were shouting for the Duke of the Normans; but the wiser heads of his friends deemed that the Duke of the Normans was just then best out of the way. Robert came down from the tower, eager to join in the fray and to give help to the citizens of his own party.[708] But all was wild tumult; it needed a cooler head than Robert’s to distinguish friend from foe. He might easily rush on destruction in some ignoble form, and bring dishonour on the Norman name itself.[709] He was persuaded by his friends to forego his warlike purposes, and to suffer himself to be led out of harm’s way. While every other man in the metropolis of Normandy was giving and taking blows, the lord of Normandy, in mere personal prowess one of the foremost soldiers in his duchy, was smuggled out of his capital as one who could not be trusted to let his blows fall in the right place. With a few comrades he passed through the eastern gate into the suburb of the Evil Swamp, just below the castle walls. No attacks from the east. It is to be noticed that no fighting on this side of the city is mentioned. The King’s troops were specially looked for to approach from Gournay, and the east gate was the natural path by which an army from Gournay would seek to enter Rouen. One would have expected that one at least of the relieving parties would have hastened to make sure of this most important point. Yet one division takes its post by the southern gate, another by the western, none by the eastern. Were operations on that side made needless, either by the neighbourhood of the castle, by any difficulties of the marshy ground, or by the disposition of the inhabitants of the suburb? Certain it is that Duke Robert’s nearest neighbours outside his capital were loyal to him. The men of the Evil Swamp received the Duke gladly as their special lord.[710] He allowed himself to be put into a boat, and ferried across to the suburb on the left bank. There he was received by one of his special counsellors, William of Arques, a monk of Molesme, and was kept safely in his mother’s monastery till all danger was over.[711]

It was clearly not wholly for the sake of such a prince as this that so many Norman leaders, Henry of Coutances among them, had made up their minds that the republican movement at Rouen was to be put down. The moment for putting it down had come. Gilbert enters Rouen. Gilbert of Laigle had by this time, by the strength of his own forces and by the help of the citizens of his party, entered Rouen through the southern gate. His forces now joined the company of Henry; they thus became far more than a match for the citizens of Conan’s party, even strengthened as they were by those of the King’s men who were in the city. Slaughter of the citizens. A great slaughter of the citizens followed; the soldiers of Rufus contrived to flee out of the city, and to find shelter in the neighbouring woods;[712] the city was full of death, flight, and weeping; innocent and guilty fell together; Conan taken prisoner. Conan and others of the ringleaders were taken prisoners. Conan himself was led into the castle, and there Henry took him for his own share of the spoil, not indeed for ransom, but to be dealt with in a strange and dreadful fashion. It is one of the contrasts of human nature that Henry, the great and wise ruler, the king who made peace for man and deer, the good man of whom there was mickle awe and in whose day none durst hurt other, should have been more than once guilty in his own person of acts of calm and deliberate cruelty which have no parallel in the acts of his father, nor in those of either of his brothers. Fate of Conan. So now Conan was doomed to a fate which was made the sterner by the bitter personal mockery which he had to endure from Henry’s own mouth. The Ætheling led his victim up through the several stages of the loftiest tower of the castle, till a wide view was opened to his eyes through the uppermost windows.[713] Henry and Conan in the tower. Henry bade Conan look out on the fair prospect which lay before him. He bade him think how goodly a land it was which he had striven to bring under his dominion.[714] These words well express the light in which Conan’s schemes would look in princely eyes; the question was not whether Robert or William should reign in Rouen; it was whether Conan should reign there as demagogue or tyrant in the teeth of all princely rights. Henry went on to point out the beauties of the landscape in detail; the eyes of the scholar-prince could perhaps better enjoy them than the eyes of Rufus or of Robert of Bellême. Beyond the river lay the pleasant park, the woody land rich in beasts of chase. There was the Seine washing the walls of the city, the river rich in fish, bearing on its waters the ships which enriched Rouen with the wares of many lands.[715] On the other side he bade him look on the city itself thronged with people, its noble churches, its goodly houses. The modern reader stops for a moment to think that, of the buildings which then met the eye of Conan, churches, castles, halls of wealthy burghers like himself, clustering within and without the ancient walls, all doubtless goodly works according to the sterner standard of that day, hardly a stone is left to meet his own eye as he looks down from hill or tower on the great buildings of modern Rouen. It was another Saint Romanus, another Saint Ouen, of far different outline and style from those on which we now gaze, which Henry called on Conan to admire at that awful moment. He bade him mark the splendour of the city; he bade him think of its dignity as the spot which had been from of old the head of Normandy.[716] The trembling wretch felt the mockery; all that was left to him was to groan and cry for mercy. He confessed his guilt; he simply craved for grace in the name of their common Maker. He would give to his lord all the gold and silver of his hoard and the hoards of his kinsfolk; he would wipe out the stain of his past disloyalty by faithful service for the rest of his days.[717] The Conqueror would have granted such a prayer in sheer greatness of soul; the Red King might well have deemed it beneath him to harm so lowly a suppliant. But the stern purpose of Henry was fixed, and his wrath, when it was once kindled, was as fierce as that of his father or his brother. “By the soul of my mother”—that seems to have been the most sacred of oaths with Matilda’s defrauded heir, as he looked out towards the church of her building—“there shall be no ransom for the traitor, but rather a hastening of the death which he deserves.”[718] Conan no longer pleaded for life; he thought only of the welfare of his soul. “For the love of God, at least grant me a confessor.”[719] Had the Lion of Justice reached that height of malice which seeks to kill the soul as well as the body? At Conan’s last prayer his wrath reached its height;[720] Conan should have no time for shrift any more than for ransom. If the clergy of Saint Romanus already enjoyed their privilege of mercy, they were to have no chance of exercising it on behalf of this arch-criminal. Death of Conan. With all the strength of both his hands, Henry thrust Conan, like Eadric,[721] through the window of the tower. He fell from the giddy height, and died, so it was said, before he reached the ground. His body was tied to the tail of a pack-horse and dragged through the streets of Rouen to strike terror into his followers. The spot from which he was hurled took the name of the Leap of Conan.[722] The tower, as I have said, has perished; the site of the Leap of Conan must be sought for in imagination, at some point, perhaps the south-eastern corner, of the vast halles of ancient Rouen.

Policy of Henry. The rule of Robert was now restored in Rouen, so far as Robert could be said to rule at any time in Rouen or elsewhere. It is remarkable that after the death of Conan we lose sight of Henry; that is, as far as Rouen is concerned, for we shall before long hear of him again in quite different relations towards his two brothers. He may well have thought that one fearful example was needed, but that one fearful example was enough. He would secure the punishment of the ringleader, even by doing the hangman’s duty with his own hands; but mere havoc and massacre had no charms for him at any time. His policy might well have forestalled the later English rule, “Smite the leaders and spare the commons.” If Robert or anybody else was to reign in Rouen, nothing would be gained by killing, driving out, or recklessly spoiling, the people over whom he was to reign. But there were men at his side to whom the utmost licence of warfare was the most cherished of enjoyments. The Duke, never personally cruel,[723] was in a merciful mood. Robert brought back. When all danger was over, he was brought across the river from his monastery to the castle. He saw how much the city had already suffered; his heart was touched, and he was not minded to inflict any further punishment. Treatment of the citizens. But he had to yield to the sterner counsels of those about him, and to allow a heavy vengeance to be meted out.[724] He seems however to have prevailed so far as to hinder the shedding of blood. At least we hear nothing of any general slaughter. The fierce men who had brought him back seem to have contented themselves with plunder and leading into captivity. The citizens of Rouen were dealt with by their countrymen as men deal with barbarian robbers. They were spoiled of all their goods and led away into bondage. Robert of Bellême and William of Breteuil, if they spared life, spared it only to deal out on their captives all the horrors of the prison-house.[725] Imprisonment and ransom of William son of Ansgar. The richest man in Rouen after the dead Conan, William the son of Ansgar, became the spoil of William of Breteuil. After a long and painful imprisonment, he regained his liberty on paying a mighty ransom of three thousand pounds.[726]

Before his captive was set free, the lord of Breteuil himself learned what it was to endure imprisonment, this time doubtless of a milder kind than that which he inflicted on William the son of Ansgar or that which himself endured at the hands of Ascelin.[727] Count William marches against Conches. November, 1090. The Count of Evreux and his nephew of Breteuil must have marched almost at once from their successful enterprise at Rouen to a less successful enterprise at Conches. For it was still November when Count William or his Countess resolved on a great attack on the stronghold of their rival.[728] Evreux was doubtless the starting-point for an undertaking which followed naturally on the work which had been done at Rouen. The Count of Evreux might keep on the garb of Norman patriotism which he had worn in the assault on the rebellious capital, and his Countess might add to the other crimes with which she charged Ralph and Isabel a share in the crime of Conan, that of traitorous dealing with the invading enemy. The forces of Evreux and Breteuil were therefore arrayed to march together against the stronghold of the common kinsman and enemy at Conches.

No contrast could well be greater than the contrast between the spot from which Count William set forth and the spot which he led his troops to attack. Position of Evreux and Conches. Near as Conches and Evreux are, they are more thoroughly cut off from one another than many spots which are far more distant on the map. The forest of Evreux parts the hills of Conches from the capital of Count William’s county. The small stream of the Iton flows by the homes of both the rival heroines. But at Conches it flows below the hill crowned by castle, church, and abbey; at Evreux its swift stream had ages before been taught to act as a fosse to the four walls of a Roman chester. Position of Mediolanum or Evreux. Low down in the valley, like our own Bath, with the hills standing round about his city, the Count of Evreux lived among the memorials of elder days. The walls of Mediolanum, which can still be traced through a large part of their circuit, fenced in to the south the minster of Our Lady and the palace of the Bishop, then still tenanted by the eloquent Gilbert.[729] His home, like that of his metropolitan at Rouen,[730] might seem to stand upon the Roman wall itself. At the north-west corner, the wall fenced in the castle from which Count William had driven out the Conqueror’s garrison, and where he, either then or at some later time, overthrew the Conqueror’s donjon.[731] History of Evreux. The wall of Mediolanum, like the wall of the Athenian akropolis, had fragments of ornamental work, shattered columns, capitals, cornices, built in among its materials. It would thus seem to belong to a late stage of Roman rule, when the Frank was dreaded as a dangerous neighbour, perhaps when he had already once laid Mediolanum waste. To the north, much as at Le Mans and at Rouen, the city in later times enlarged its borders, as, in later times still, it has enlarged them far to the south. The “Little City”—a name still borne by a street within the Roman circuit—is a poor representative of the Old Rome on the Cenomannian height;[732] but both alike bear witness to the small size of the original Roman encampments, and to the gradual process by which they were enlarged into the cities of modern times. The Roman walls. But in the days of William and Heloise the circuit of Roman Mediolanum was still the circuit of Norman Evreux. And, as in so many other places, the oldest monuments have outlived many that were newer. Small traces of the eleventh century at Evreux. Neither church, castle, nor episcopal palace, keeps any fragments of the days of the warlike Countess; it is only in the minster of Saint Taurinus without the walls that some small witnesses of those times are to be found. Even the Romanesque portions of the church of Our Lady must be later than Count William’s day, and the greater part of the building of the twelfth century has given way to some of the most graceful conceptions of the architects of the fourteenth. The home of the Bishop has taken the shape of a stately dwelling in the latest style of mediæval art; the home of the Count has vanished like the donjon which Count William overthrew. But the old defences within which bishops and counts had fixed themselves in successive ages still live on, to no small extent in their actual masonry, and in the greater part of their circuit in their still easily marked lines. And, high upon the hills, the eye rests on the stronghold of yet earlier days, bearing the local The Câtelier. name of the Câtelier, the earth-works which rise above Evreux as the earth-works of Sinodun rise above the northern Dorchester. Here we may perhaps see the point where the Gaul still held out on the hill, when the Roman had already entrenched himself by the river-side. At Evreux the works of the earliest times, the works of the latest times, the works of several intermediate times, are there in their fulness. But there is nothing whatever left in the city directly to remind us of the times with which we are now dealing. A man might pass through Evreux, he might make a diligent search into the monuments of Evreux, and, unless he had learned the fact from other sources, he might fail to find out that Evreux had ever had counts or temporal lords of any kind.

E. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

EVREUX

Position of Conches. It is otherwise with the fortress of the warlike lady of the hills, against which the warlike lady of the river-city now bade the forces of her husband’s county to march. The home of Isabel has no more of her actual work or date to show than the home of Heloise; but the impress of the state of things which she represents is stamped for ever on the stronghold of the house of Toesny. At Evreux the Count and his followers lived in the midst of works which, even in their day, were ancient; at Conches, on the other hand, all was in that day new. Conches had already its minster, its castle, most likely its growing town; but all were the works of its present lord or of his father. The hill of Conches is another of those peninsular hills which, as the chosen sites of castles, play so large a part in our story. But the castle of Conches does not itself crown a promontory, like the castle of Ballon. The cause doubtless was that at Conches the abode of peace came first, and the abode of warfare came only second. Either Ralph himself, the first of his house who bears the surname of Conches as well as that of Toesny, Foundation of the monastery. or else his fierce father in some milder moment, had planted on the hill a colony of monks, the house of Saint Peter of Conches or Castellion.[733] The monastery arose on that point of the high ground which is most nearly peninsular, that stretching towards the north. To the south of the abbey presently grew up the town with its church, a town which, in after times at least, was girded by a wall, and which was sheltered or threatened The castle. by the castle of its lords at the end furthest from the monastery. To the east, the height on which town and castle stand side by side rises sheer from a low and swampy plain, girt in by hills on every side, lying like the arena of a natural amphitheatre. On the hill-side art has helped nature by escarpments; the mound of the castle, girt by its deep and winding ditch, rises as it rose in the days of Ralph and Isabel; but the round donjon on the mound and the other remaining buildings of the fortress cannot claim an earlier date than the thirteenth century. The donjon and the apse of the parish church, a gem of the latest days of French art, now stand nobly side by side; in Isabel’s day they had other and ruder forerunners. The abbey. But of the abbey, which must have balanced the castle itself in the general view, small traces only now remain; it has become quite secondary in the general aspect of the place, which gathers wholly round the parish church and the donjon. The western side of the hill, towards the forest which takes its name from Conches, shows nearly the same features as the eastern side on a smaller scale. It looks down on another plain girt in by hills; but on this side the slope of the hill of Conches itself is gentler, and the town is here defended by a wall. Altogether it was a formidable undertaking when the lord of the ancient city in the vale carried his arms against the fortress, the work of his brother, which had arisen within his own memory on the height overlooking his own river.

Siege of Conches. Count William thus began his winter siege of Conches; but, as usual, we get no intelligible account of the siege as a military operation. We are told nothing of the Count’s line of march, or by what means he sought to bring the castle to submission. Near kindred of the combatants. But, as usual too, we have no lack of personal anecdotes, anecdotes some of which remind us how near were the family ties between the fierce nobles who tore one another in pieces. We have already mentioned one nephew of the Count of Evreux who came with him to the attack of Conches. But William of Breteuil was nephew alike of both the contending brothers. His mother Adeliza, daughter of Roger of Toesny, wife of Earl William of Hereford before he went to seek a loftier bride in Flanders,[734] was the whole sister of Ralph of Conches and the half-sister of Count William of Evreux.[735] Another nephew and follower of Count William, Richard of Montfort, son of his whole sister, was moreover a brother of the Penthesileia of Conches.[736] The fate of these two kinsmen was different. Death of Richard of Montfort. Richard, in warring against his sister’s castle, with some chance of meeting his sister personally in the field, did not respect the sanctity of the neighbouring abbey of her husband’s foundation. He heeded not the tears of the monks who prayed him to spare the holy place. A chance shot of which he presently died was looked on as the reward of his sacrilege. Both sides mourned for one so nearly allied to both leaders.[737] William of Breteuil taken prisoner. William of Breteuil, the ally of his uncle of Evreux, became the captive of his uncle of Conches. That wary captain, when the host of Evreux came a-plundering, was at the head of a large force of his own followers and of the King of England’s soldiers.[738] But he bade his men keep back till the foe was laden with booty; they were then to set upon them in their retreat. His orders were successfully carried out. Many of the party became the prisoners of the lord of Conches, among them the lord of Breteuil, the gaoler of William the son of Ansgar.[739] Of this incident came a peace which ended the three years’ warfare of the half-brothers.[740] The captive William of Breteuil procured his freedom by a ransom of three thousand pounds paid to his uncle of Conches, which was presently made good to him by the ransom of his own victim from Rouen. Settlement of the county of Evreux on young Roger of Conches. Moreover, as he had no lawful issue,[741] he settled his estates on his young cousin Roger, the younger son of Ralph and Isabel. The same youthful heir was also chosen by his childless uncle of Evreux to succeed him in his county.[742] Perhaps Duke Robert confirmed all these arrangements as a matter of course; perhaps the consent of such an over-lord was not deemed worth the asking.

The young Roger of Toesny thus seemed to have a brilliant destiny opened to him, but he was not doomed to be lord either of Evreux or of Breteuil. He was, it is implied, too good for this world, at all events for such a world as that of Normandy in the reign of Robert. Character of Roger. Pious, gentle, kind to men of all classes, despising the pomp of apparel which was the fashion of his day,[743] the young Roger attracts us as one of a class of whom there may have been more among the chivalry of Normandy than we are apt to think at first sight. An order could not be wholly corrupt which numbered among its members such men as Herlwin of Bec, as Gulbert of Hugleville,[744]

and the younger son of Ralph of Conches. A tale is told of him, a tale touching in itself and one which gives us our only glimpse of the inner and milder life of the castle of Conches under the rule of its Amazonian mistress. A number of knights sat idle in the hall, sporting and amusing themselves with talk in the presence of the lady Isabel.[745] At last they told their dreams. The three dreams. One whose name is not given, said that he had seen the form of the Saviour on the cross, writhing in agony and looking on him with a terrible countenance. All who heard the dream said that some fearful judgement was hanging over the head of the dreamer. Baldwin of Boulogne. Then spoke Baldwin the son of Count Eustace of Boulogne, one of the mightier sons of an ignoble father.[746] He too had seen his Lord hanging on the cross; but the divine form was bright and glorious; the divine face smiled kindly on the dreamer; the divine hand blessed him and traced the sign of the cross over his head.[747] All said that rich gifts of divine favour were in store for him. Roger’s dream. Then the young Roger crept near to his mother, and told her that he too knew one not far off who had beheld his vision also. Isabel asked of her son of whom he spoke and what the seer had beheld. The youth blushed and hesitated, but, pressed by his mother and his comrades, he told how there was one who had lately seen his vision of the Lord, how the Saviour had placed his hand on his head, and had bidden him, as his beloved, to come quickly that he might receive the joys of life. And he added that he knew that he who was thus called of his Lord would not long abide in this world.

Such talk as this in the hall of Conches, in the presence of its warlike lady, whether we deem it the record of real dreams or a mere pious imagining after the fact, seems like a fresh oasis in the dreary wilderness of unnatural war. Fulfilment of the dreams. Each vision was of course fulfilled. The nameless knight, wounded ere long in one of the combats of the time, died without the sacraments. Baldwin of Boulogne, afterwards son-in-law of Ralph and Isabel,[748] was indeed called to bear the cross, but in a way which men perhaps had not thought of six years before Pope Urban preached at Clermont. Count of Edessa, King of Jerusalem, the name of Baldwin lives in the annals of crusading Europe; to Englishmen it perhaps comes home most nearly as the name of a comrade of our own Robert son of Godwine.[749] Death of young Roger. But a brighter crown than that of Baldwin’s kingdom was, long before Baldwin reigned, the reward of the young Roger. A few months after the date of the tale, he died peacefully in his bed, full of faith and hope, and, amid the grief of many, his body was laid in the minster of Saint Peter of his father’s rearing.[750]

Later treaty between the two brothers.
1100. There was thus peace between Conches and Evreux, a peace which does not seem to have been again broken. Ten years later, in a time of renewed licence, we find the two brothers joining in a private war against Count Robert of Meulan.[751] Eight years later again, when Banishment and death of Count William. April 18, 1108. Count William and his Countess were busy building a monastery at Noyon, they fell under the displeasure of King Henry, and died in banishment in the land of Anjou.[752] Ralph of Toesny was succeeded by his son the younger Ralph, and Isabel, after a long widowhood, withdrew as a penitent to atone for the errors of her youth, one would think of her later days also, in a life of religion.[753]

Orderic’s picture of Normandy. It is after recording the war of Conches and the sack of Rouen that the monk of Saint Evroul takes up his parable to set forth the general wretchedness of Normandy in the blackest colours with which the pictures of Hebrew prophets and Latin poets could furnish him. And it is Orderic the Englishman[754] that speaks. His English feelings. In his Norman cell he never forgot that he first drew breath by the banks of the Severn. In his eyes the woes of Normandy were the righteous punishment for the wrongs of England. The proud people who had gloried in their conquest, who had slain or driven out the native sons of the land, who had taken to themselves their possessions and commands, were now themselves bowed down with sorrows. The wealth which they had stolen from others served now not to their delight but to their torment.[755] Normandy, like Babylon, had now to drink of the same cup of tribulation, of which she had given others to drink even to drunkenness. A Fury without a curb raged through the land, and smote down its inhabitants. The clergy, the monks, the unarmed people, everywhere wept and groaned. None were glad save thieves and robbers, and they were not long to be glad.[756] And so he follows out the same strain through a crowd of prophetic images, the locust, the mildew, and every other instrument of divine wrath. We admit the aptness of his parallel when he tells us that in those days there was no king nor duke in the Norman Jerusalem; we are less able to follow the analogy when he adds that the rebellious folk sacrificed at Dan and Bethel to the golden calves of Jeroboam.[757] At last, when his stock of metaphors is worn out, he goes back to his story to tell the same tale of crime and sorrow in other parts of the Norman duchy.[758]

§ 3. Personal Coming of William Rufus.
1091.

In a general view of the state of affairs, William Rufus had lost much more by the check of his plans at Rouen than he could gain by any successes of his Norman allies at Conches. The attempt of the Count of Evreux on the castle of his new vassal had been baffled; but his own far greater scheme, the scheme by which he had hoped to win the capital of Normandy, had been baffled also. It may have been this failure which led Christmas Gemót at Westminster. 1090.the King to see that his own presence was needed beyond the sea. The Christmas Gemót of the year was held, not, as usual, at Gloucester, but at Westminster. At Candlemas the King crossed to Normandy with a great fleet.[759] The King crosses to Normandy. February, 1091.The two things are mentioned together, as if to imply that a further sanction of the assembled Witan was given to this new stage of the war. War indeed between William and Robert there was none. It does not seem that a single blow was struck to withstand the invader. But blows were given and taken in Normandy throughout the winter with as much zeal as ever. And this time Duke Robert himself was helping to give and take them. Duke Robert helps Robert of Bellême. Stranger than all, he was giving and taking them in the character of an ally of Robert of Bellême against men who seem to have done nothing but defend themselves against the attacks of the last-named common enemy of mankind. Hugh of Grantmesnil and Richard of Courcy. Old Hugh of Grantmesnil, once the Conqueror’s lieutenant at Winchester and afterwards his Sheriff of Leicestershire,[760] was connected by family ties with Richard of Courcy,[761] and the spots from which they took their names, in the diocese of Seez, between the Dive and the Oudon, lay at no great distance from one another. They thus lay between Earl Roger’s own Montgomery[762] and a series of new fortresses on the Orne and the neighbouring streams, by which Earl Roger’s son hoped to extend his power over the whole land of Hiesmes.[763] Hugh and Richard strengthened themselves against the tyrant—such is the name which Robert bears—gathering their allies and putting their castles in a state of defence. Their united forces were too much for the lord of Bellême. He sought help from his sovereign, and the Duke, who was not allowed to strike a blow for his own Rouen, appeared as the besieger of Courcy, no less than of Brionne. He who had fought to turn the tyrant out of Ballon and Saint Cenery now fought to put Courcy into the tyrant’s power.

Siege of Courcy. January, 1091. The siege of Courcy began in January.[764] At the end of the month or the beginning of the next, a piece of news came which caused the Duke and the other besiegers to cease from their work. News of William’s coming. February. Robert himself could see that there was something else to be done besides making war on Hugh of Grantmesnil on behalf of Robert of Bellême, when the King of the English was in his own person on Norman ground. The siege raised. The host before Courcy broke up; some doubtless went to their own homes;[765] but we may suspect that some found their way to Eu. For there it was that King William had fixed his quarters; there the great men of Normandy were gathering around him. They did not come empty-handed. They welcomed the King with royal gifts; but it was to receive far greater gifts in return. Men flock to William from all parts. Thither too men were flocking to him, not only from Normandy, but from France, Flanders, Britanny, and all the neighbouring lands. And all who came went away saying that the King of the English was a far richer and more bountiful lord than any of their own princes.[766] In such a state of things it was useless for Robert to think of meeting his brother in arms. His only hope was to save some part of his dominions by negotiation before the whole Norman land had passed into the hands of the island king. Treaty of Caen. 1091. A treaty of peace was concluded, by which Robert kept his capital and the greater part of his duchy, but by which William was established as a powerful and dangerous continental neighbour, hemming in what was left of Normandy on every side.

The treaty was agreed to, seemingly under the mediation of the King of the French, in a meeting of the rival brothers at Caen.[767] Cession of Norman territory to William. The territorial cession made by Robert mainly took the form of recognizing the commendations which so many Norman nobles had made to the Red King. They had sought him to lord, and their lord he was to be. The fiefs held by the lords of Eu, Aumale, Gournay, and Conches, and all others who had submitted to William, passed away from Robert. They were to be held of the King of the English, under what title, if any, does not appear. To hold a fief of William Rufus meant something quite different from holding a fief of Robert. The over-lordship of Robert meant nothing at all; it did not hinder his vassal from making war at pleasure either on his lord or on any fellow-vassal. But the over-lordship of William Rufus, like that of his father, meant real sovereignty; the lords who submitted to him had given themselves a master. If any of them had a mind to live in peace, their chance certainly became greater; in any case the dread of William’s power, combined with the attractions of the rich hoard which was so freely opened, might account for the sacrifice of a wild independence. Their geographical aspect. The territory thus ceded to the east, the lands of Eu, Aumale, and Gournay, involved a complete surrender of the eastern frontier of the duchy. The addition of the lands of Conches formed an outpost to the south. Rouen was thus hemmed in on two sides. But this was not enough, in the ideas of the Red King, to secure a scientific frontier. The lord of the island realm must hold some points to strengthen his approach to the mainland, something better than the single port of Eu in one corner of the duchy. Robert had therefore to surrender two points of coast which had not, as far as we have heard, been occupied by William or by his Norman allies. Cession of Fécamp and Cherbourg. Rouen was to be further hemmed in to the north-west, by the cession of Fécamp, abbey and palace. The occupation of this point had the further advantage for William that it put a check on the districts which had been kept for Robert by Helias of Saint-Saen. These were now threatened by Fécamp on one side and by Eu and Aumale on the other. And William’s demands on the Duke of the Normans contained one clause which could be carried out only at the cost of the Count of the Côtentin. Henry’s fortress of Cherbourg, not so long before strengthened by him,[768] was also to pass to William. So early was the art known by which a more powerful prince, with no ground to show except his own will, claims the right to shut out a weaker prince or people from the seaboard which nature has designed for them.

William demands Saint Michael’s Mount. Besides Cherbourg, the Red King demanded the island fortress of Saint Michael’s Mount, the abbey in peril of the sea. Otherwise he seems to have claimed nothing in the west of Normandy. Robert might reign, if he could, over the lands which his father had brought into submission on the day of Val-ès-Dunes. Nor were the great cessions which Robert made to be wholly without recompence. It might be taken for granted that the Duke whose territories were thus cut off was to have some compensation in another shape out of the wealth of England. Money paid to Robert. So it was; vast gifts were given by the lord of the hoard at Winchester to the pauper prince at Rouen.[769] But he was not to be left without territorial compensation also. The lost dominions of the Conqueror to be restored to Robert. William not only undertook to bring under Robert’s obedience all those who were in arms against him throughout Normandy; he further undertook to win back for him all the dominions which their father had ever held, except those lands which, by the terms of the treaty, were to fall to William himself. This involved a very considerable enlargement of Robert’s dominions, besides turning his nominal rule into a reality in the lands where he was already sovereign in name. It was aimed at lands both within and without the bounds of the Norman duchy. Maine, city and county, was again in revolt against its Norman lords.[770] Projected recovery of Maine. By this clause of the treaty William bound himself to recover Maine for Robert. This obligation he certainly never even attempted to fulfil. He did not meddle with Maine till the Norman lord and the English King were again one. Then the recovery of Maine, or at least of its capital, became one of the chief objects of his policy.

But this clause had also a more remarkable application. Its terms were to be brought to bear on one nearer by blood and neighbourhood to both the contending princes than either Cenomannian counts or Cenomannian citizens. Henry to be despoiled of the Côtentin. The terms of the treaty amounted to a partition of the dominions of the Count of the Côtentin between his two brothers. Cherbourg and Saint Michael’s Mount were, as we have seen, formally assigned to William, and the remainder of Henry’s principality certainly came under the head of lands which had been held by William the Great and which the treaty did not assign to William the Red. As such they were to be won back for Robert by the help of William. That is to say, William and Robert agreed to divide between themselves the territory which Henry had fairly bought with money from Robert. No agreement could be more unprincipled. Character of the agreement. As between prince and prince, no title could be better than Henry’s title to his county; while, if the welfare of the people of Coutances and Avranches was to be thought of, the proposed change meant their transfer from a prince who knew the art of ruling to a prince whose nominal rule was everywhere simple anarchy. Neither Robert nor William was likely to be troubled with moral scruples; neither was likely to think much of the terms of a bargain and sale; but one might have expected that Robert would have felt some thankfulness to his youngest brother for his ready help in putting down the rebellious movement at Rouen.[771] William might indeed on that same account look on Henry as an enemy; but such enmity could hardly be decently professed in a treaty of alliance between Robert and William. We may perhaps believe that the chief feeling which the affair of Rouen had awakened in Robert’s mind was rather mortification than gratitude. A brother who had acted so vigorously when he himself was not allowed to act at all was dangerous as a neighbour or as a vassal. The memory of his services was humiliating; it was not well to have a brother so near at hand, and in command of so powerful a force, a brother who, if he had at one moment hastened to his elder brother’s defence, might at some other moment come with equal speed on an opposite errand. But whatever were their motives, King and Duke agreed to rob their youngest brother of his dominions. Henry attacked at once.And the importance which was attached to this part of the treaty is shown by the speed and energy with which it was carried out. While the recovery of Maine was delayed or forgotten, the recovery of the Côtentin was the first act of the contracting princes after the conclusion of the treaty.

Probable objects of William. But, when we look to some other terms of the treaty, it is possible that, in the mind of William at least, the spoliation of Henry had a deeper object. One purpose of the treaty was to settle the succession both to the kingdom of England and to the duchy of Normandy. Settlement of the English and Norman succession.Neither the imperial crown nor the ducal coronet had at this moment any direct and undoubted heir, according to any doctrine of succession. Both William and Robert were at this time unmarried; Robert had more than one illegitimate child; no children of William Rufus are recorded at any time. William and Robert to succeed one another. The treaty provided that, if either King or Duke died without lawful issue during the lifetime of his brother, the survivor should succeed to his dominions. I have spoken elsewhere of the constitutional aspect of this agreement.[772] Constitutional aspect of the agreement.It was an attempt to barter away beforehand the right of the Witan of England to bestow the crown of a deceased king on whatever successor they thought good. And, like all such attempts, before and after, till the great act of settlement which put an end to the nineteen years’ anarchy,[773] it came to nothing. Growth of the hereditary principle, But that such an agreement should have been made shows what fresh strength had been given by the Norman Conquest to the whole class of ideas of which the doctrine of hereditary succession to kingdoms forms a part.[774] But, putting this view of the matter aside, the objects of the provision, as a family compact, were obvious. It was William’s manifest interest to shut out Robert’s sons from any share in the inheritance of their father. and of the doctrine of legitimacy. This was easily done. The stricter doctrine of legitimacy of birth was fast growing.[775] It was but unwillingly that Normandy had, sixty years earlier, acknowledged the bastard of an earlier Robert; it was most unlikely that Normandy would submit to a bastard of the present Robert, while there yet lived lawful sons of him who had made the name of Bastard glorious. Robert, on the other hand, might not be unwilling to give up so faint a chance on the part of his own children, in order to be himself declared presumptive heir to the crown of England. But there were others to be shut out, one of whom at least was far more dangerous than the natural sons of Robert. The two Æthelings There were then in Normandy two men who bore the English title of Ætheling, one of the old race, one of the new; one whom Englishmen had once chosen as the last of the old race, another to whom Englishmen looked as the first of the new race who had any claim to the privileges of kingly birth. Henry; We must always remember that, in English eyes, Henry, the son of a crowned King of the English, born of his crowned Lady on English ground, had a claim which was not shared by his brothers, foreign born sons of a mere Norman Duke and Duchess.[776] Eadgar. The kingly and native birth of Henry might put his claims at least on a level with those of Eadgar, who, male heir of Ecgberht and Cerdic as he was, was born of uncrowned parents in a foreign land.[777] Indeed it might seem that by this time all thoughts of a restoration of the West-Saxon house had passed out of the range of practical politics, and that the claims of Eadgar were no longer entitled to a thought. The Red King however seems to have deemed otherwise. He was clearly determined to secure himself against the remotest chances of danger. Henry was to be despoiled; Eadgar banished from Normandy. Eadgar was to be banished. Eadgar had come back from Apulia;[778] he was now living in Normandy on terms of the closest friendship with the Duke, who had enriched him with grants of land, and, as we have seen, admitted him to his inmost counsels.[779] We know not whether Eadgar had given the Red King any personal offence, or whether William was simply jealous of him as a possible rival for the crown. At any rate, whether by a formal clause of the treaty or not, he called on Robert to confiscate Eadgar’s Norman estates and to make him leave his dominions.[780] William’s policy towards Henry and Eadgar. Neither towards Henry nor towards Eadgar would the policy of William Rufus seem to have been wise; but sound policy, in any high sense, was not one of the attributes of William Rufus. Whatever may be said of Henry’s relations towards Normandy, he was more likely to plot against his brother of England if he became a landless wanderer than if he remained Count of Coutances and Avranches. As for Eadgar, it might possibly have been a gain if he could have been sent back to Apulia or provided for in his native Hungary. As it was, he straightway betook himself to a land where he was likely to be far more dangerous than he could ever be in Normandy. Eadgar goes to Scotland. As in the days of William the Great,[781] he went at once to the court of his brother-in-law of Scotland.[782] It may be that William presently saw that he had taken a false step in the treatment of both the Æthelings. At a later time we shall see both Henry and Eadgar enjoying his full favour and confidence.

The man before whose eyes the crown of England had twice been dangled in mockery, and the man who was hereafter to grasp that crown with a grasp like that of the Conqueror himself, were thus both doomed to be for the moment despoiled of lands and honours. The followers of each side to be restored. To men of less exalted degree the treaty was more favourable. King and Duke alike, so far to the credit of both of them, stipulated for the safety and restoration of their several partisans in the dominions of the other. All supporters of William in any of those parts of Normandy which were not to be ceded to him were to suffer no harm at the hands of Robert. The rebels of 1088 to be restored. And, what was much more important, all those who had lost their lands in England three years before on account of their share in the rebellion on behalf of Robert were to have their lands back again. An exception, formal or practical, must have been made in the case of Bishop Odo. He certainly was not restored to his earldom of Kent.

The treaty sworn to. The treaty was sworn to by twelve chief men on each side.[783] The English Chronicler remarks, with perfect truth, It stands but a little while. that it stood but a little while.[784] But one part at least was carried out at once and with great vigour. William and Robert march against Henry. Within less than a month after William had landed in Normandy to dispossess Robert, he and Robert marched together to dispossess Henry. They spent their Lent in besieging him in his last stronghold. Lent, 1091.When the Count of Coutances heard of the coalition against him, he made ready for a vigorous resistance. Henry’s position. He put his two cities of Coutances and Avranches and his other fortresses into a state of defence, and gathered a force, Norman and Breton, to garrison them.[785] Britanny indeed was the only quarter from which he received any help in his struggle.[786] Earl Hugh of Chester and others betray their castles to William. Those who seemed to be his firmest friends turned against him. Even Earl Hugh of Chester, the foremost man in the land from which his father had taken his name,[787] had no mind to jeopard his great English palatinate for the sake of keeping his paternal Avranches in the obedience of the Ætheling. Henry’s other supporters, Richard of Redvers, it is to be supposed, among them, were of the same mind. They saw no hope that Henry could withstand the might, above all the wealth, of Rufus; they accordingly surrendered their fortresses into the King’s hands.[788] Henry takes up his quarters at Saint Michael’s Mount. One stronghold only was now left to Henry, one of the two which had been specially marked out to be taken from him, the monastic fortress of Saint Michael. The sacred mount was then famous and venerable through all Normandy, and far beyond the bounds of Normandy. The buildings on the Mount. Of that vast and wondrous pile of buildings, halls, cloister, church, buildings which elsewhere stand side by side, but which here are heaped one upon another, little could then have been standing. The minster itself, which crowns all, had begun to be rebuilt seventy years before by the Abbot Hildebert,[789] and it may be that some parts of his work have lived through the natural accidents of the next age[790] and the destruction and disfigurement of later times. But the series of pillared halls, knightly and monastic, which give its special character to the abbey of the Mount, are all of far later date than the war of the three brothers. Yet the house of the warrior archangel was already at once knightly and monastic. Abbot Roger. 1085. The reigning abbot Roger was, in strict ecclesiastical eyes, a prelate of doubtful title. He had come in—as countless other bishops and abbots of Normandy and England had come in—less by free election of the monks than by the will of the great Duke and King.[791] What personal share Roger took in the struggle is not recorded; but some at least of his monks, The monks welcome Henry. like the monks of Ely in the days of Hereward,[792] welcomed the small body of followers who still clave to Henry, and at whose head he now took up his last position of defence in the island sanctuary.[793]

Siege of the Mount. Lent, 1091 Here Henry was besieged by his two brothers, Duke and King. Yet we hear of nothing which can in strictness be called a siege. The Mount stands in the mouth of a bay within a bay. Its position. At high water it is strictly an island; at low water it is surrounded by a vast wilderness of sand—those treacherous sands from which thirty years before Harold had rescued the soldiers of the elder William[794] , and which stretch back as far as the rocks of Cancale on the Breton shore. The inner bay. In this sense the bay of Saint Michael may be counted to stretch from Cancale to the opposite point on the Norman coast, where the land begins to bend inwards to form the narrower bay. This last may be counted to stretch from the mouth of the border stream of Coesnon below Pontorson to Genetz lying on the coast nearly due west from Avranches. The Mount itself and its satellite the smaller rock of Tombelaine lie nearly in a straight line between these two points. Alternately inaccessible by land and by water, accessible by land at any time only by certain known routes at different points, the Mount would seem to be incapable of direct attack by any weapons known in the eleventh century. On the other hand, it would be easy to cut it off from all communication with the outer world by the occupation of the needful points on the shore and by the help of a blockading fleet. Later sieges. 1417–1424. And in the great siege three hundred and thirty years later—when Normandy had again a kingly duke of the blood of Rolf and Henry, but when the Mount clave to the King of Paris or of Bourges—we hear both of the blockading fleet of England and of the series of posts with which the shore was lined. No mention of ships. Without a fleet the Mount could hardly be said to be besieged; but, on the other hand, its insular position would be of no use to its defenders, unless they had either ships at command or friends beyond sea. In the present case we hear nothing of ships on either side, nor of any help coming to the besieged. Nor do we hear of any systematic occupation of the whole coast. Positions of the besiegers. We hear only that the besiegers occupied two points which commanded the two sides of the inner bay, On the north the Duke took up his quarters at Genetz; to the south the besiegers occupied Arderon, not far from the mouth of the Coesnon, while King William of England established himself in the central position of Avranches.[795] Character of the siege. The siege thus became an affair of endless small attacks and skirmishes. We hear of the plundering expeditions which Henry was able to make into the lands of Avranches and even of Coutances, lands which had once been his own, but which had now become hostile ground.[796] We hear too how, before each of the extreme points occupied by the besiegers, before Genetz and before Arderon, Combats the knights on both sides met every day in various feats of arms, feats, it would seem, savouring rather of the bravado of the tourney than of any rational military purpose.[797]

Edwᵈ. Weller

For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press.

Map to illustrate the
SIEGE of Sᵀ MICHAEL’S MOUNT.
A.D. 1091.

Personal anecdotes. We now get, in the shape of those personal anecdotes in which this reign is so rich, pictures of more than one side of the strangely mixed character of the Red King. At the other end of Normandy William had won lands and castles without dealing a single blow with his own sword, and with a singularly small outlay of blows from the swords of others. At Eu, at Aumale, and at Gournay, the work had been done with gold far more than with steel. Beneath Saint Michael’s Mount steel was to have its turn; and, when steel was the metal to be used, William Rufus was sure to be in his own person the foremost among those who used it. The change of scene seemed to have turned the wary trafficker into the most reckless of knights errant. Amidst such scenes he became, in the eyes of his own age, the peer of the most renowned of those Nine Worthies the tale of whom was made up only in his own day. William compared to Alexander. We shall see at a later stage how the question was raised whether the soul of the Dictator Cæsar had not passed into the body of the Red King; by the sands of Saint Michael’s bay he was held to have placed himself on a level with the Macedonian Alexander. The likeness could hardly be carried on through the general military character of the two princes; for Alexander, when he began an enterprise, commonly carried it on to the end. And it may be doubted whether Alexander ever jeoparded his own life in the senseless way in which Rufus in the tale is made to jeopard his. We must picture to ourselves the royal head-quarters between the height of Avranches and the sands of Saint Michael’s bay. Knight-errantry of William. The King goes forth from his tent, and mounts the horse which he had that morning bought for fifteen marks of silver.[798] He sees the enemy at a distance riding proudly towards him. Alone, waiting for no comrade, borne on both by eagerness for the fray and by the belief that no one would dare to withstand a king face to face, he gallops forward and charges the advancing party.[799] The King upset. The newly bought horse is killed; the King falls under him; he is ignominiously dragged along by the foot, but the strength of his chain-armour saves him from any actual wound.[800] By this time the knight who had unhorsed him has his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to deal a deadly blow. William, frightened by the extremity of his danger, cries out, “Hold, rascal, I am the King of England.”[801] The words had that kind of magic effect which is so often wrought by the personal presence of royalty. From any rational view of the business in hand, to slay, or better still to capture, the hostile king should have been the first object of every man in Henry’s garrison. To no case better applied the wise order of the Syrian monarch, “Fight neither with small nor great, save only with the King of Israel.”[802] But as soon as a voice which some at least of them knew proclaimed that it was a king who lay helpless among them, every arm was stayed. The soldiers of Henry tremble at the thought of what they were so near doing; with all worship they raise the King from the ground and bring him another horse.[803] His treatment of the knight who unhorsed him. William springs unaided on his back; he casts a keen glance on the band around him,[804] and asks, “Who unhorsed me?” As they were muttering one to another, the daring man who had done the deed came forward and said, “I, who took you, not for a king but for a knight.” A bold answer was never displeasing to Rufus; he looked approval, and said, “By the face of Lucca,[805] you shall be mine; your name shall be written in my book,[806] and you shall receive the reward of good service.” Here the story ends; we are to suppose that William, instead of being carried a prisoner to the Mount, rode back free to Avranches, having lessened the small force of Henry by a stout knight and two horses.

Character of the story. The tale is told as an example of the magnanimity of the Red King. And there is something which moves a kind of admiration in the picture of a man, helpless among a crowd of enemies, yet bearing himself as if they were his prisoners, instead of his being theirs. The point of the story is that Rufus did no harm, that he felt no ill will, towards the man who had unhorsed, and all but killed him; that he honoured his bold deed and bold bearing, and promised him favour and promotion. But had the soldiers of Henry done their duty, William would have had no opportunity, at least no immediate opportunity, of doing either good or harm to his antagonist. William assumes that the enemy will not dare to withstand him, and his assumption is so far justified that he is withstood only by one who knows not who he is, and whose words imply that, if he had known, he would not have ventured to withstand him. Trusting to this kind of superstitious dread, William is able to speak and act as he might have spoken if the man who unhorsed him had been brought before him in his own tent. Comparison with Richard the First. Richard of the Lion-heart, when the archer who had given him his death-wound was brought before him, first designed him for a death of torture, and then, on hearing a bold answer, granted him life and freedom.[807] In this, as in some other cases, the Red King, the earliest model of chivalry, certainly does not lose by comparison with the successor who is more commonly looked on as its ideal.[808]

Another and perhaps better known story which is told of this siege puts the character of William Rufus in another light, while it brings out the character of Robert in a lively form. Contrast between William and Robert. The Duke, heedless of the consequences of his acts but not cruel in his own person, was, above all men, open to those passing bursts of generosity which are quite consistent with utter weakness and want of principle. William Rufus was always open to an appeal to his knightly generosity, to that higher form of self-assertion which forbade him to harm one who was beneath him, and which taught him to admire a bold deed or word even when directed against himself. But the ties of kindred, still more the ties of common humanity, sat very lightly on him. The gentler soul of Robert was by no means dead to them. He did not shrink from waging an unjust war against his brother and deliverer; he did not shrink from despoiling that brother and deliverer of dominions which he had sold to him by his own act for a fair price; but he did shrink from the thought of letting the brother against whom he warred suffer actual bodily hardships when he could hinder them. Lack of water on the Mount. The defenders of the Mount had, according to one account, plenty of meat; but all our narratives agree as to the difficulty of providing fresh water for the fortress which twice in the day was surrounded by the waves.[809] Henry asks to be allowed to take water. Henry sent a message to the Duke, praying that he might be allowed access to fresh water; his brothers might, if they thought good, make war on him by the valour of their soldiers; they should not press the powers of nature into their service, or deprive him of those gifts of Providence which were open to all human beings.[810] Answer of Robert and William. Robert was moved; he gave orders to the sentinels at Genetz not to hinder the besieged from coming to the mainland for water.[811] One version even adds that he added the further gift of a tun of the best wine.[812] This kind of generosity, where no appeal was made to his own personal pride, was by no means to the taste of Rufus; as a commander carrying on war, he was ready to press the rights of warfare to the uttermost. When he heard what Robert had done, he mocked at his brother’s weakness; it was a fine way of making war to give the enemy meat and drink.[813] Robert answered, in words which do him honour, but which would have done him more honour if they had been spoken at the beginning as a reason for forbearing an unjust attack on his brother—“Shall we let our brother die of thirst? Where shall we find another, if we lose him?”[814]

Such are these two famous stories of the war waged beneath the mount of the Archangel. Both are eminently characteristic; there is no reason why both may not be true. But we must withhold our belief when one of our tale-tellers adds that William turned away from the siege in contempt for Robert’s weakness.[815] A more sober guide tells us that when, for fifteen days, Henry and his followers had held up against lack of water and Henry surrenders. threatening lack of food,[816] the wary youth saw the hopelessness of further resistance, and offered to surrender the Mount on honourable terms. He demanded a free passage for himself and his garrison. William, already tired of a siege in which he had made little progress and which had cost him many men and horses,[817] gladly accepted the terms. Henry, still Ætheling, though no longer Count, marched forth from his island stronghold with all the honours of war.[818] We are to suppose that, according to the terms of the treaty, the King took possession of the Mount itself, and the Duke of the rest of Henry’s former county. William at Eu. William stayed on the mainland, in the parts of Normandy which had been ceded to him, for full six months, having his head-quarters at Eu.[819] He goes back to England. August, 1091. In August the affairs of his island kingdom called him back again; and, strange to say, both his brothers went with him as his guests and allies.[820]

Fortunes of Henry. At this moment the past and the future alike lead us to look with more interest on the fates of the dispossessed Ætheling than on those of any other of the actors in our story. But there is at first sight some little difficulty in finding out what those fates were. His presence in England in 1091. From our English authorities we could only gather that Henry was in England before the end of the year in which the siege took place, and that three years later he was again beyond sea, in favour with William and at enmity with Robert. From other writers we get a version, which Story of Henry’s adventures. takes no notice of any visit to England, but which gives us a moving tale of Henry’s experiences in Normandy and the neighbouring lands. It is one of those cases where a writer, telling his own part of the story, altogether forgets, perhaps without formally contradicting, other parts. In such a case he is likely to stumble in some of his dates and details; but this need not lead us altogether to cast aside the main features of his story. It is plain that, for some time after the surrender of the Mount, Henry was, to say the least, landless. In the pictures of his actual distress and adversity there may well be somewhat of exaggeration; but they draw from one who is not a flatterer the important remark that, having known adversity himself, he learned to be gracious in after years to the sufferings of others.[821] His alleged wanderings. We are perhaps startled by such a saying when we think of some particular acts of Henry; but this witness does not stand alone; and, among the contradictions of human nature, there is nothing impossible in the belief that such a spirit may have existed alongside of many particular acts of cruelty.[822] But it is certain that Henry’s season of adversity must have been shorter than it appears in the picture of it which is given to us. We are told that, soon after he left the Mount, he found himself very nearly a solitary wanderer. He first went into Britanny, the only land from which he had received any help, and thanked his friends there for their services. Thence he betook himself to France, and spent, we are told, nearly two years in the borderland of the Vexin, the land which had been the scene of his father’s last and fatal warfare, and which was again to be the scene of warfare before his brother’s reign was ended. There, with a train cut down to one knight, one clerk, and three esquires, Henry wandered to and fro, seeking shelter where he could.[823] Whatever truth there may be in these details, the time of Henry’s probation could not have been spread over anything like a period of two years. He may have been a wanderer during the few months which immediately followed the surrender of the Mount; but, if so, he was reconciled to both his brothers long before the end of the year. Or he may, from some unexplained reason, have again become a wanderer during some months of the following year. There is nothing in any way impossible or unlikely in either story. What is certain is that, before the end of the next year, Henry had again an establishment on Gaulish ground, and one gained in the most honourable way. Robert and Henry accompany William to England. And it is equally certain that when King William went back to England in the month of August in the present year he took both of his brothers with him.[824]

§ 4. The Scottish Expedition of William Rufus.
August–October, 1091.

Affairs of Scotland. The business which called William back to his kingdom was a serious one; it was no other than to drive back or to avenge a Scottish invasion. King Malcolm, who seems to have stayed quiet during the rebellion three years before, now took up arms. We cannot help connecting this step with the visit of his brother-in-law, and the words of the Chronicler seem directly to imply that Malcolm’s invasion was the consequence of Eadgar’s coming.[825] From one version we might almost think that Malcolm had been called on to do homage and had refused.[826] This is perfectly possible in itself; but the time of William’s special occupation with Norman affairs seems oddly chosen for such a summons. An earlier time, some point in the blank period between the rebellion and the Norman campaign, would have seemed more natural for such a purpose. Malcolm’s invasion of Northumberland. May, 1091. However this may be, now, in the month of May, Malcolm took advantage of William’s absence in Normandy to invade Northumberland for the fourth time. He designed, we are told, to go much further and do much more, words which might almost suggest a purpose of asserting the claims of Eadgar to the English crown. Whatever were his objects, they were not carried out, save one which was doubtless not the least among them, that of carrying off great spoil from Northumberland.[827] The furthest point that Malcolm reached was Chester-le-Street, a point unpleasantly near to the bishopless monks of Durham.[828] He is driven back. There the men in local command went against him and drove him back. In the national Chronicle they appear as “the good men who guarded this land.”[829] In this way of speaking, as in many other phrases in our own and other tongues, the word “good” means rank and office rather than moral goodness. The “good men.” Yet the latter idea is not wholly absent; the name would hardly be given to men who were engaged in a cause which the writer wholly condemned. The “good men” here spoken of must have been mainly Normans, with Earl Robert of Mowbray at their head. Earl Robert was not likely to have won much love from the English people. Yet he passed for a “good man,” when he did his duty for England, when he guarded the land and drove back the Scottish invader. Of any wish to put Malcolm in the place of either the elder or the younger William we see no trace at any stage of our story. Beyond this emphatic sentence, we get no details. As in so many other cases, if conquest was the object of Malcolm’s expedition, plunder was the only result.

William and Robert in England. August, 1091. The news of this harrying of the northern part of his kingdom brought King William back from Normandy in the course of August. With him, as we have said, came Robert and Henry. Why was the Duke’s presence needed? One account hints that his coming had some reference to the actors in the late rebellion, some of whom at least were now restored to their estates.[830] Relations between Robert and Malcolm. Another version speaks of an old friendship between Robert and Malcolm;[831] and there was a tie of spiritual affinity between them arising out of Robert’s relation as godfather to a child of Malcolm.[832] It was perhaps in this character that Robert came to act, if need should be, as a welcome negotiator with his Scottish gossip. Stronger side of Robert and Eadgar. One strange thing is that, on more than one occasion in our story, both Robert and Eadgar, two men who seem so incapable of vigorous or rational action on behalf of themselves, play a distinctly creditable part when acting on behalf of others. But this is really no uncommon inconsistency of human nature; men are often found who are good advisers in the affairs of others, while they are by no means wise managers of their own. Robert in truth appears to most advantage anywhere out of his own duchy. Neither the warrior of the crusade nor the negotiator with the Scot seems to be the same man as the Duke who could not be trusted to defend his own palace.

William sets forth. In the present case there was more of negotiation than of warfare. Of actual fighting there seems to have been none. William got together, as his father had done in the like case,[833] a great force by land and sea for the invasion of Scotland. With the land force the King and the Duke set forth; but seemingly with no haste, as time was found for a great ecclesiastical ceremony on the way. Durham in the absence of Bishop William. For three years the church of Durham had been without a shepherd, and the castle of Durham had been in the hands of the King. The monks of Saint Cuthberht’s abbey had feared that this irregular time would be an evil time for them. But they put their trust in God and their patron saint, and went to the King to ask his favour. The King’s favourable treatment of the monks. Rufus was specially gracious and merciful; he rose up to greet Prior Turgot, the head of the embassy, and he gave orders that the monks of Durham should be in no way disturbed, but should keep full possession of their rights and property, exactly as if the Bishop had remained in occupation of his see.[834] We may even venture to guess that they had a somewhat fuller possession of them during the Bishop’s absence. We are expressly told by the local historian that the Red King did not deal with Durham as he dealt with other churches; he took nothing from the monks, and even gave them something of his own.[835] Works at Durham. The new society—for it must be remembered that the monks of Durham were a body of Bishop William’s own bringing in[836]—flourished so greatly during this irregular state of things that it was now that they built their refectory.[837] But a time of more settled order was now to come. Reconciliation of Bishop William with the King. Bishop William of Saint-Calais, whatever had been his crimes three years back, was among those whom King William had engaged by his treaty with his brother to restore to their lands and honours. Besides this general claim, it was believed, at Durham at least, that the banished prelate had earned his restoration by a signal service done to the King. In the third year of his banishment an unnamed Norman fortress was holding out for the King; but its garrison was sore pressed, and its capture by the enemy seemed imminent. The Bishop, by what means of persuasion we are not told, but it does not seem to have been by force, caused the besiegers to raise the siege.[838] This service won the King’s thorough good He is restored to his bishopric. September 3, 1091. will, and William, on his march to Scotland, personally put the Bishop once more in possession of his see and of all its rights and belongings, temporal and spiritual.[839] Bishop William did not come back empty-handed; he brought with him costly gifts for his church, ornaments, gold and silver vessels, and, above all, many books.[840] And, at some time before the year was out, we find him confirming with great solemnity, with the witness of the great men of the realm, certain grants of the Conqueror to the monks of his church.[841] The return of the Bishop was an event not only of local but of national importance. His renewed influence with the King. He was restored by the King, not only to his formal favour, but to a high place in his innermost counsels. Bishop William was not one of those who come back from banishment having learned nothing and forgotten nothing. He had, in his sojourn beyond the sea, learned an altogether new doctrine as to the relations between bishops and kings.

The march which had been interrupted by the ceremony at Durham was clearly a slow one. William was at Durham in the first days of September; much later in the month a heavy blow fell on one part of the expedition. Loss of the ships. Michaelmas, 1091. The greater part of the ships were lost a few days before the feast of Michaelmas, and we are told that this happened before the King could reach Scotland. The King was therefore several weeks in journeying from Durham to the border of the true Scotland, the Firth of Forth; and we are told that many of the land force also perished of cold and hunger.[842] The army however which remained was strong enough to make Malcolm feel less eager for deeds of arms than he had most likely felt in May. William and Malcolm by the Scots’ Water.At last, near the shore of the Scots’ Water, the estuary which parted English Lothian from Scottish Fife, the two kings met face to face, seemingly in battle array, but without coming to any exchange of blows. It is marked in a pointed way that Malcolm had crossed from his kingdom to his earldom. He “went out of Scotland into Lothian in England, and there abode,”[843] There a negotiation took place. Mediation of Robert and Eadgar. The ambassadors or mediators were Duke Robert and the Ætheling Eadgar.[844] According to the most picturesque version, Malcolm, who is conceived as still keeping on the northern side of the firth, sends a message to William to the effect that he owes no homage to him, but that, if he can have an interview with Robert, he will do to him whatever is right. Conference of Robert and Malcolm. By the advice of his Wise Men,[845] William sends his brother, who is courteously received by the Scottish King for three days. Somewhat like the Moabite king of old, though with quite another purpose, Malcolm takes his visitor to the tops of various hills, and shows him the hosts of Scotland encamped in the plains and dales below. With so mighty a force he is ready to withstand any one who should try to cross the firth; he would be well pleased if any enemy would make the attempt. Malcolm’s homage to Robert. He then suddenly turns to the question of homage. He had received the earldom of Lothian from King Eadward, when his great-niece Margaret was betrothed to him. The late King William had confirmed the gifts of his predecessor, and, at his bidding, he, Malcolm, had become the man of his eldest son, his present visitor Duke Robert. To him he would discharge his duty; to the present King William he owed no duty at all. He appealed to the Gospel for the doctrine that no man could serve two lords, the doctrine which had been so practically pressed on Robert’s behalf three years before.[846] Robert admitted the truth of Malcolm’s statement; but he argued that times were changed, and that the decrees of his father had lost their old force. It would be wise to accept the reigning King as his lord, a lord nearer, richer, and more powerful, than he could pretend to be himself. Malcolm might be sure of a gracious reception from William, if he came on such an errand. He submits to William. Malcolm was convinced; he went to the King of the English; he was favourably received, and a peace was agreed on. It is added that the two kings then disbanded their armies, and went together into England.[847]

This last statement throws some doubt upon the whole of this version; for Malcolm’s alleged journey to England at this moment is clearly a confusion with events which happened two years later. Question as to the betrothal of Margaret. The references too to the earldom of Lothian and to an earlier betrothal of Margaret are a little startling; yet it is perhaps not quite hopeless to reconcile them with better ascertained facts. As I have elsewhere suggested, this earlier betrothal of Margaret to Malcolm is not necessarily inconsistent with his later marriage with her after the intermediate stage of Ingebiorg.[848] Malcolm may at one time have been in no hurry to carry out a marriage dictated by political reasons; yet he may have afterwards become eager for the same marriage after he had seen her whose hand was designed for him. Question of Lothian. As for the Lothian earldom, we here see the beginning of the later Scottish argument, that homage was due from the Scottish to the English king only for lands held within the kingdom of England. At this stage Lothian was the land held within the kingdom of England; it was what Northumberland, Huntingdon, or any other confessedly English land held by the Scottish king, was in later times. When Malcolm was restored to his crown by the arms of Siward,[849] no doubt Lothian was granted to him among other things. Only Malcolm takes up the line, or our historian thinks it in character to make him take up the line, of implying, though not directly asserting, that Lothian was the only possession for which homage was due. And, on the strictest view of English claims, Malcolm would be right in at least drawing a marked distinction between Scotland and Lothian. He owed both kingdom and earldom to the intervention of Eadward and Siward; but Lothian was a grant from Eadward in a sense in which Scotland was not. Over Scotland neither Eadward nor William could claim more than an external superiority. Lothian was still English ground, as much as the land which is now beginning to be distinguished as Northumberland.

Treaty between William and Malcolm. The version of Malcolm’s submission which I have just gone through is certainly worth examining, and I do not see that it contradicts the simpler and more certain version. According to this account, the negotiation was carried on between Robert and Eadgar. The agreement to which the mediators came was that Malcolm should renew to the younger William the homage which he had paid to the elder.[850] On the other hand, he was to receive all lands and everything else that he had before held in England, specially, it would seem, twelve vills or mansions for his reception on his way to the English court.[851] Malcolm does homage. On these terms Malcolm became the man of William; Eadgar also was reconciled to William. The two kings parted on good terms, but the Chronicler notices, in a phrase of which he is rather fond, that it “little while stood.”[852]

William, Robert, and Eadgar now took their journey back again, as it is specially marked, from Northumberland into Wessex.[853] Return of William. The realm of Ælfred is still looked on as the special dwelling-place of his successors from beyond the sea. But it would seem that, at some stage of their southward journey, at some time before the year was out, they joined with other men of royal and princely descent in setting their crosses to a document, in itself of merely local importance, but which is clothed with a higher interest by the names of those who sign it. Evidence of the Durham charters. A grant of certain churches to the convent of Durham becomes a piece of national history when, besides the signatures for which we might naturally look, it bears the names of King William the Second, of Robert his brother, of Henry his brother, of Duncan son of King Malcolm, of Eadgar the Ætheling, and of Siward Barn.[854] This is the only time when all these persons could have met. There is no sign of any later visit of Robert to England during the reign of William. But the signatures of Henry and Duncan teach us more. Duncan. Duncan, it will be remembered, had been given as a hostage at Abernethy;[855] he had been set free by the Conqueror on his death-bed; he had been knighted by Robert, and allowed to go whither he would.[856] Had he already made his way back to his own land, or did he come in the train of his latest benefactor? In the former case, had he been again given as a hostage? Or had William found out that the son of Ingebiorg might possibly be useful to him? It is certain that, two years later, Duncan was at William’s court and in William’s favour; and it looks very much as if he had, in whatever character, gone back to England with the King. Eadgar. The signature of Eadgar shows that the document must be later than the treaty with Malcolm by which he was reconciled to William, that is, that it was signed on the journey southward, not on the journey northward. Henry. The signature of Henry is our only hint that he had any share at all in the Scottish business, and it throws a perfectly new light on this part of his history. He was plainly in England, seemingly in favour with both his brothers, and things look as if he too, though he is nowhere mentioned, must have gone on the march to Scotland. Siward Barn. Siward Barn, like Duncan, was one of those who were set free by William the Great on his death-bed. We now learn that he shared the good luck of Duncan and Wulf, not the bad luck of Morkere and Wulfnoth. He signs as one of the great men of the north, with Arnold of Percy, with the Sheriff Morel, and with Earl Robert himself.

One thing is plain, namely, that this document was not signed in the regular Christmas Assembly of the year. By that time Robert and Eadgar were no longer in England. By that time Robert and William had again quarrelled. Fresh dispute between William and Robert. We may guess that some of Robert’s old partisans had been less lucky than the Bishop of Durham. At all events, some points in the treaty of Caen remained unfulfilled. Then, as in later times, a diplomatic engagement was not found strong enough to carry itself out by its own force, like a physical law of nature. We are not told what was the special point complained of; but something which the Red King should have done for Robert or for his partisans was left undone.[857] It was simply as a man and a king that Rufus had entered into any engagements with his brother. His knightly honour was not pledged; the treaty therefore came under the head of those promises which no man can fulfil.[858] We are told in a pointed way that Robert stayed with his brother till nearly the time of Christmas. The matter in dispute, whatever it was, might have been fittingly discussed in the Christmas Assembly; only it might have been hard to find the formula by which the Duke of the Normans was to appeal the King of the English of bad faith before his own Witan. Robert and Eadgar leave England. December 23, 1091. Two days before the feast Robert took ship in Wight, and sailed to Normandy, taking the Ætheling Eadgar with him.[859]

Natural phænomena. Fall of the tower at Winchcombe. October 15, 1091. Either the reign of Rufus was really richer than other times in striking natural phænomena, or else they were specially noticed as signs of the times. About the time of the King’s Scottish expedition, the tower of the minster at Winchcombe was smitten by a mighty thunderbolt, and fell in ruins on the body of the church, crushing the most hallowed images in its fall. The Chthonian Zeus had no place in the mythology of the times; but this destruction, which left behind it a thick smoke and an evil smell, was deemed to be the work of the evil one, the signs of whose presence were got rid of only by the most solemn chants and processions.[860] Two days later, Great wind in London. October 17, 1091. London was visited by a fearful wind, which blew down seven churches and houses to the number of six hundred. Above all, the wooden roof of the church of Saint Mary-le-bow was carried off, and its beams were hurled to the ground with such force that they were driven into the hard earth, and had to be sawn off as they stood.[861] Two men who were in the church were crushed. The citizens could have hardly repaired their houses before another blow came upon them. Fire in London. March 28, 1092. Early in the next year the greater part of London was destroyed by fire.[862] By Eastertide the cathedral churches of two of the dioceses whose seats had been moved in the late reign stood ready for consecration. Consecration of the church of Salisbury. April 5, 1092. On the waterless hill which then was Salisbury, within the everlasting ditches of the elder time, looking down on the field of battle which had decreed that Britain should be English[863] and on the field of council which had decreed that England should be one,[864] Norman Osmund, the doctor of the ritual lore of England, had finished the work which Lotharingian Hermann had began. The new mother church of the lands of Berkshire, Wiltshire, and Dorset, the elder minster of Saint Mary, whose stones were borne away to build the soaring steeple of its successor but whose foundations may still be traced on the turf of the forsaken city, now awaited its hallowing. There was then no archbishop in southern England; the rite was done by Osmund himself with the help of his two nearest episcopal neighbours, Walkelin of Winchester and John of Bath.[865] The ceremony had thus a specially West-Saxon character. The three bishops who came together at Salisbury represented the three—once four—churches, among which the old West-Saxon diocese, the diocese of Winchester, had been parted asunder.[866] But at Salisbury too, the elements, if somewhat less hostile than at Winchcombe and London, were by no means friendly. The tower roof thrown down. April 10. Five days only after the hallowing, the lightning fell, as at Winchcombe; the peaked roof or low spire which sheltered the tower—doubtless of wood covered with lead—was thrown down, and its fall did much damage to the walls of the new minster.[867]

A day later by a month had been fixed for another ceremony of the same kind, the crowning of the work of a prelate who seems to have wished for a more stately ceremony and a greater gathering than the almost domestic rite which had satisfied Bishop Osmund. Remigius, Almoner of Fécamp, Bishop of Dorchester, Bishop of Remigius of Lincoln. Lincoln, was drawing near the end of his famous episcopate. He had reformed the constitution of his chapter and diocese; and we hear that he was no less zealous in reforming the manners of his flock.[868] The darling sin of Bristol—most likely the darling sin of every great trading-town—was rife at Lincoln also; and Remigius, like Wulfstan, preached against the wicked custom by which men sold their country-folk, sometimes their kinsfolk, to a life of shame or of bondage in foreign lands.[869] Completion of the minster. But beyond all this, he had finished his great work on the hill of Lincoln; the elder church of Saint Mary had grown into the great minster of which later rebuildings and enlargements have still left us some small remnants.[870] The eastern limb had as yet no need to overleap the Roman wall of Lindum; but Remigius had reared, and sought to consecrate, no fragment, but a perfect church. His doorways are there in the western front to show that the building has received no enlargement on that side from Remigius’ day to our own. The work was done, and its founder felt his last end coming. He was eager to see the house which he had builded dedicated to its holy use before he himself passed away. But an unlooked-for hindrance came. The only archbishop in the land, Thomas of York, claimed the district in which Remigius had built his church as belonging to his own diocese.[871] Thomas of York claims the jurisdiction of Lindesey. This does not seem to have been by virtue of the claim that the whole diocese of Dorchester came within his metropolitan jurisdiction.[872] The argument was that Lindesey, won for the Christian faith by Paullinus, won for the Northumbrian realm by Ecgfrith, was part of the diocesan jurisdiction of the Bishop of York. And, whatever the truth of the case might be, the warmest of all admirers of Remigius goes some way to strengthen the doctrine of Thomas, when he speaks of Lindesey almost as a conquered land won by the prowess of Remigius from the Northumbrian enemy.[873] The time was not one for doubtful disputations. Remigius wins over the King. Remigius, saint as he is pictured to us, knew how to use those baser arguments which were convincing above all others in the days of the Red King. His original appointment in the days of the Conqueror had not been altogether beyond suspicion;[874] and it was now whispered that it was by the help of a bribe that he won the zealous adhesion of William Rufus to his cause. Rufus was at least impartial; he was clearly ready to give a fair day’s work for a fair day’s wages, and what he would do for a Jew he would also do for a bishop. All the bishops of England were bidden by royal order to come together at the appointed day for the dedication of the church of Lincoln.[875] Gathering for the consecration at Lincoln. May 9, 1092. A vast crowd of men of all ranks came to Lincoln; the course of the story suggests that the King himself was there; all the bishops came, save one only. Robert of Hereford, the friend of Wulfstan, the Lotharingian skilled in the lore of the stars, knew by his science that the rite would not take place in the lifetime of Remigius. He therefore deemed it needless to travel to Lincoln for nothing.[876] Death of Remigius. May 6, 1092. His skill was not deceived; three days before the appointed time Remigius died.[877] The dedication of the church was delayed; it was done in the days of his successor, some years later.[878] Meanwhile Remigius himself won the honours of a saint in local esteem, and wonders of healing were wrought at his tomb for the benefit of not a few of divers tongues and even of divers creeds.[879]

§ 5. The Conquest and Colonization of Carlisle.
1092.

William’s conquest of Carlisle. It was seemingly from this fruitless gathering at Lincoln that William the Red went forth to what was in truth the greatest exploit of his reign. He went on a strange errand, to enlarge the bounds of England by overthrowing the last shadow of independent English rule. Hitherto the northern border of England had shown a tendency to fall back rather than to advance, and a generation later the same tendency showed itself again. But Rufus did what neither his father nor his brother did; he enlarged the actual kingdom of England by the addition of a new shire, a new earldom—in process of time a new bishopric—and he raised as its capital a renewed city whose calling it was to be the foremost bulwark of England in her northern wars. Whatever any other spot on either side of the sea may be bound to do, Carlisle, city and earldom, is bound to pay to the Red King the honours of a founder. And the Saxon branch of the English people must see in him one who planted a strong colony of their blood on the lands of men of other races, kindred and alien. Mistakes as to the position of Cumberland and Westmoreland. There is a certain amusement in seeing the endless discussions in which men have entangled themselves in order to explain the simple fact that Cumberland and Westmoreland are not entered in Domesday, forgetful that it was just as reasonable to look for them there as it would have been to look there for Caithness or the Côtentin. Cumberland and Westmoreland, by those names, formed no part of the English kingdom when the Conqueror drew up his Survey. Parts of the lands so called, those parts which till recent changes formed part, first of the diocese of York, afterwards of that of Chester, are entered in Domesday in their natural place, as parts of Yorkshire.[880] The other parts are not entered, for the simple reason that they were then no part of the kingdom of England. It was now, in the third or fourth year of William Rufus, that they became so.

History of Carlisle. Lugubalia or Caerluel was reckoned among the Roman cities of Britain. It was reckoned too among the cities of the Northumbrian realm, in the great days of that realm, 603–685. from the victory of Æthelfrith at Dægsanstan to the fall of Ecgfrith at Nectansmere.[881] Then the Northumbrian power fell back from the whole land between Clyde and Solway, and all trace of Lugubalia is lost in the confused history of the land of the Northern Britons. Its site, to say the least, must have formed part of that northern British land whose king and people sought Eadward the Unconquered to father and lord.[882] It must have formed part of that well nigh first of territorial fiefs which Eadmund the Doer-of-great-deeds granted to his Scottish fellow-worker.[883] It must have formed part of the under-kingdom which so long served as an appanage for the heirs of Scottish kingship. But, amidst all these changes, though the land passed under the over-lordship of the Basileus of Britain, yet it never, from Ecgfrith to Rufus, passed under the immediate dominion of any English king. And, as far as the city itself was concerned, for the last two centuries before Rufus the site was all that was left to pass to any one. Scandinavians in Cumberland. The history of Scandinavian influence in Cumberland is one of the great puzzles of our early history. The Northman is there to speak for himself; but it is not easy to say how and when he came there.[884] But one result of Scandinavian occupation or Scandinavian inroad was the overthrow of Lugubalia. Carlisle destroyed by Scandinavians. We gather that it fell, as Anderida fell before Ælle and Cissa, as Aquæ Solis fell before Ceawlin, as the City of the Legions fell before Æthelfrith.[885] But now the son of the Conqueror was to be to Lugubalia what the daughter of Ælfred had been to the City of the Legions. The king who made the land of Carlisle English bade the walls of Carlisle again rise, to fence in a city of men, a colony of the Saxon land.

Dolfin lord of Carlisle. At this moment the land of Carlisle, defined, as we can hardly doubt, by the limits of the ancient diocese, was the only spot of Britain where any man of English race ruled. Its prince, lord, earl—no definite title is given him—was Dolfin the son of Gospatric, a scion of the old Northumbrian princely house and sprung by female descent from the Imperial stock of Wessex.[886] When or how Dolfin had got possession of his lordship we know not; but it can hardly fail to have been a grant from Malcolm, and it must have been held by him in the character of a man of the Scottish king.

Dolfin driven out, the city restored and the castle built. 1092. We are not told whether either Dolfin or Malcolm had given any new offence to William, or whether there was any other motive for the King’s action at this moment. We can record only the event. Rufus went northward with a great force to Carlisle. He drove out Dolfin; he restored the forsaken city; he built the castle; he left a garrison in it, and went southward again.[887] But this was not all.The Saxon colony. Not only was the restored city to be a bulwark of England, but the conquered land was to become a colony of Englishmen. Many churlish folk were sent thither with wives and cattle, to dwell in the land and to till it.[888] We thus see, what seems always to be forgotten in discussions of Cumbrian ethnology, that, at least in the immediate district of Carlisle, the last element in its mixed population was distinctly Saxon.[889] Supposed connexion with the making of the New Forest. Ingenious writers have guessed that the men who were now settled at Carlisle were the very men who had been deprived of their homes and lands at the making of the New Forest. There is no evidence for this guess, and every likelihood is against it. Though I hold that the dispossessed land-owners and occupiers of Hampshire are not an imaginary class,[890] yet I cannot think that they can have formed so large a class as to have gone any way towards colonizing even so small a district as the old diocese of Carlisle. But it is plain that the land needed inhabitants, and that the new inhabitants were sought for in the south of England. In the Carlisle district then the order of settlement among the races of Britain is different from what it is anywhere else. Elsewhere it is Briton, Angle or Saxon, Dane or Northman. Here, as far as one can see, the order must be Briton, Angle, Pict, Northman, Saxon.

The land and earldom of Carlisle. The land now added to England is strictly the land of Carlisle. We do not hear the names of Cumberland or Westmoreland till after the times with which we are dealing. The restored city gave its name to the land, to its earls, when it had earls, to its bishops when it had bishops.[891]

And truly of all the cities of England none is more memorable in its own special way than that which now for the first time became a city of united England. History and character of the city. The local history of Carlisle stands out beyond that of almost any other English city on the surface of English history. It has not, as local history so often has; to be dug out of special records by special research. Called into fresh being to be the bulwark of England against Scotland, Carlisle remained the bulwark of England against Scotland as long as England needed any bulwark on that side. In every Scottish war, from Stephen to George the Second, Carlisle plays its part. Its analogy with Edinburgh and Stirling. Nor is it perhaps unfit that a city whose special work was to act as a check upon the Scot should itself have in its general look somewhat of a Scottish character. The site of the city and castle instinctively reminds us of the sites of Edinburgh and Stirling. It is a likeness in miniature; but it is a likeness none the less. The hill which is crowned by Carlisle castle is lower than the hills which are crowned by the two famous Scottish fortresses; but in all three cases the original city climbs the hill whose highest point is crowned by the castle. At Carlisle the castle stands at the northern end of the city, and its look-out over the Eden, towards the Scottish march, is emphatically the look-out of a sentinel. It looks out towards the land which so long was hostile; but it looks out also on one spot which suggests the memories of times when Scots, Picts, and Britons may have been there, but when they found no English or Danish adversaries to meet them. The Roman wall avoids Lugubalia itself, though the inner line of foss, which runs some way south of the wall itself, is said to be traced along the line which divides the castle from the city. But among the most prominent points of view from the castle is Stanwix, the site of the nearest Roman station, which seems to bear about it the memory of the stones of the ancient builders. The wall and the castle. Here, on the brow of the hill, cut off by a ditch like so many headlands of the same kind, on a site which had doubtless been a place of strength for ages before the Roman came, the Red King reared the new bulwark of his realm. Of the works of his age there are still large remains; how much is the work of Rufus himself, how much of his successor, it might be hard to say. The square keep is there, though sadly disfigured by the unhappy use of the castle as a barrack; a large part of the wall, both of city and castle, is still, after many patchings and rebuildings, of Norman date; it is still in many places plainly built out of Roman stones. Here and there one is even tempted to think that some of those stones in the lower part of the wall may have stood there since Carlisle was Lugubalia. Castle and city bear about them the memories of many later times and many stirring scenes in history. Works of Rufus and Henry at Carlisle. But on that spot we are most called on to trace out, in church and city and castle, every scrap that reminds us of the two founders of Carlisle, the two royal sons of the Conqueror. The names which before all others live on that site are those of William who raised up city and fortress from the sleep of ages, and of Henry who completed the work by adding Carlisle to the tale of English episcopal sees.[892]

Fortunes of Henry. In the same year in which King William of England thus advanced and strengthened the borders of his kingdom by strength of arms, his youngest brother again became a ruler of men by a nobler title. Whatever was the date or the length of Henry’s day of distress, it came to an end about the time of the restoration of Carlisle. No call could be more honourable than that which again set him in a place of power. Domfront held by Robert of Bellême. Among the many victims of Robert of Bellême were the people of Domfront, the old conquest of William the Great. The castle had passed into the hands of the tyrant, and grievous was the oppression which Domfront and the coasts thereof suffered at his hands. The men of Domfront choose Henry to lord. 1093. The inhabitants, under the lead of a chief man of the place, Harecher or Archard by name, rose in revolt, and chose the banished Count of the Côtentin as their lord and defender against the common enemy of mankind. In company with this local patriot, Henry came to Domfront; he accepted the offered lordship, and entered into the closest relations with those who had chosen him. He bound himself to respect all their local customs, and never to give them over to any other master. Henry kept his word; amidst all changes, he clave to Domfront for the rest of his days as a specially cherished possession.[893]

Position of Domfront. It was indeed, both in its position and in its associations, a noble starting-point for one who had to carve out a dominion for himself by his wits or by his sword. It was a place of happy omen for a son of William the Conqueror, as the place where his father first began to deserve that title, his first possession beyond the elder bounds of his own duchy.[894] Henry was now lord of the rocky peninsula, which, impregnable as it had once been deemed, had yielded to the terror of his father’s name, and where the donjon of his father’s rearing opened its doors to receive his greatest son as a prince and a deliverer. On one side, the Varenne flowed far beneath the rock, parting it from the wilder rocks beyond the stream. On the other side, on the same level as the castle, but with a slight dip between the two, just like the dip which parts town and castle at Nottingham,[895] was the walled town, in after days itself a mighty fortress, girded with double walls and towers in thick array, and entered by a grim and frowning gateway with two massive flanking towers grounded on the solid rock. But, of all spots in the world, Domfront is one whose lord could never bear to be lord of Domfront only. From few spots not fixed on actual Alps or Pyrenees can the eye range over a wider prospect than it ranges over from the castle steep of Henry’s new lordship. To the north the view is by comparison shut in; but on this side lies the way into the true heart of Normandy, to Caen and Bayeux and all that lies between. To the west the eye catches the hills of the Avranchin; to the south the land of Maine stretches far away, the land of his father’s victories at Ambrières and at Mayenne, the land whose sight suggests that the land of Anjou lies yet beyond it. To the south Henry might look on lands which were to be the inheritance of his children; to the north he looked on lands which were one day to be his own; but to the south-west, towards Mortain and Avranches and the Archangel’s Mount, his eye might light on a region some of the most famous spots of which he was presently to win with his own right hand.

Change in Henry’s affairs.
His old friends join him For the tide in Henry’s affairs turned fast, as soon as the wanderer of the Vexin became the chosen lord of Domfront. His old friends in his former principality began to flock around him once more. Earl Hugh was again on his side, with Richard of Redvers and the rest.[896] Earl Hugh.And he had now a mightier friend than all. King Henry restored to William’s favour. William of England soon found out that he had not played a wise part for his own interests, or at least for his own plans, in strengthening his elder brother at the expense of the younger. Henry at war with Robert. He was now again scheming against Robert; he therefore favoured the growth of the new power on the Cenomannian border. It was with the Red King’s full sanction that Domfront became the head-quarters of a warfare which Henry waged against both Roberts, the Duke and the tyrant of Bellême.[897] He made many expeditions, which were largely rewarded with plunder and captives, and in the course of which some picturesque incidents happened which may call for some notice later in our story.[898] For the present we are concerned rather with the re-establishment of Henry’s power, of which his possession of Domfront was at once the earnest and the beginning. He gets back his county. Favoured by William, helped by his former friends, Henry was soon again a powerful prince, lord of the greater part of his old county of Coutances and Avranches. And this dominion was secured on his southern border by the occupation of another fortress almost as important as Domfront itself, and no less closely connected with the memory of Henry’s father.

Castle of Saint James occupied by Henry. This was the castle of Saint James, the stronghold which the Conqueror reared to guard the Breton march,[899] which stands close on that dangerous frontier, in the southernmost part of the land of Avranches. That hilly and wooded land puts on at this point a somewhat bolder character. Its position. A peninsular hill with steep sides, and with a rushing beck, the Beuvron, between itself and the opposite heights, was a point which the eye of William the Great had marked out as a fitting site for a border-castle. Yet the castle did not occupy the exact spot where one would have looked for it. We should have thought to find it at the very head of the promontory, commanding the valley on all sides. It is so at Ballon; it is not so at Saint Cenery or at Conches. But in a more marked way than either of these, the castle of Saint James stood on one side of the hill, the south side certainly, the side looking towards the dangerous land, but still not occupying the most commanding position of all. In this choice of a site we may perhaps see a mark of the Conqueror’s respect for religion. The ecclesiastical name of the place shows that, in William’s day, the church of Saint James already occupied the lofty site which its successor still keeps. Castle-builders less scrupulous than the great William might perhaps have ventured, like Geoffrey of Mayenne at Saint Cenery,[900] to build their fortress on the holy ground. The Conqueror had been content with the less favourable part of the hill, and at Saint James, as at Conches, church and castle stood side by side. The natural beauty of the site cannot pass away; the look-out over the valley on either side is fairer and more peaceful now than it was in William’s day; but every care has been taken to destroy or to mutilate all that could directly remind us of the days when Saint James was a stronghold of dukes and kings. Slight remains of the castle. The elder church has given way to a structure strangely made up of modern buildings and ancient fragments. The tower of the Conqueror still gives its name to the Place of the Fort; but there are no such remains as we see in the shattered keep of Domfront, hardly such remains as may be traced out at Saint Cenery and on the Rock of Mabel. A line of wall to the south, strengthening the scarped hill-side like the oldest walls of Rome, is all that is left to speak to us of the castle which was William’s most famous work on that border of his dominions. Nothing beyond these small scraps is left of the fortress whose building led to that memorable march against the Breton in which William and Harold fought as fellow-soldiers.[901]

The castle granted to Earl Hugh. We are not told what were Henry’s relations with Britanny at the time when this great border fortress passed into his hands. Bretons had been his only friends at the time of the siege of the Mount; but their friendship for the Count of the Côtentin was perhaps felt for him, not so much in that character as in that of the enemy of the Norman Duke and the English King. It may possibly mark a feeling that the Celtic peninsula might again become a dangerous land, when the guardianship of the chief bulwark against the Bretwealas of the mainland was given to one who had full experience of warfare with the Bretwealas of the great island. The Earl of Chester had a hereditary call to be the keeper of the castle of Saint James. The fortress had, on its first building, been entrusted by the Conqueror to the guardianship of Earl Hugh’s father, the Viscount Richard of Avranches. Hugh’s treason when King and Duke came against him was now forgotten; his earlier and later services were remembered; and the restored prince, now once more Count as well as Ætheling, granted the border castle, not as a mere castellanship, but as his own proper fief, to the lord of the distant City of the Legions.[902]

We have thus seen the power of William the Red firmly established on both sides of the sea. He had received the homage of Scotland; he had enlarged the bounds of England; he had won for himself a Norman dominion hemming in the dominions which are left to the nominal sovereign of the Norman land. And it is wonderful with how little fighting all this had been done. It was only before the island rock of Saint Michael that the chivalrous King had any opportunity of winning renown by feats of chivalry. A year follows, crowded with events, but all of them events which happened within the four seas of our own island. Our next chapter will therefore deal mainly with English affairs, and with some aspects of English affairs which yield in importance to none in the whole history of England. One of the chief personages of our story now comes before us in the form of the holy Anselm. Few more striking personal contrasts are to be found in the whole range of history than those parts of our tale where Anselm and William meet face to face. But more memorable still, in a general aspect of English history, is the work which has been silently going on ever since William Rufus was made fast on his throne, the work which stands broadly forth as a finished thing when the controversy between King and Primate begins. Assuredly no “feudal system” was ever introduced into England by any law of William the Great; but it is only a slight stretch of language to say that something which, if any one chooses, may be called a “feudal system” was, during these years, devised in and for England by the craft and subtlety of Randolf Flambard.

CHAPTER IV.

THE PRIMACY OF ANSELM AND THE ACQUISITION OF NORMANDY.[903]
1093–1097.

THE Character of the early years of William Rufus. 1087–1092. story of the first five years of the Red King’s reign may be written with little, if any, forsaking of strict chronological order. The accession, the rebellion, the affairs of Normandy, the affairs of Scotland, follow one another in successive or nearly successive years, as the main subjects which challenge our attention. Chronological sequence of the history. One set of events leads to another. The rebellion followed naturally on the accession; the interference of Rufus in Normandy followed naturally on the rebellion; the Scottish invasion seems to have been the immediate occasion of the banishment of Eadgar from Normandy. But during the whole of the five years there is no great interlacing of different parts of the main story; at no stage are two distinct sets of events of equal moment going on at the same time; the historian is hardly called on to forsake the arrangement of the annalist. While the events recorded by the annalist were in doing, some of the greatest changes in English history were silently going on; but they were not changes of a kind which could be set down in the shape of annals. More complicated character of the next period. 1093–1098. From the end of the year which saw the restoration of Carlisle the nature of the story changes. Different scenes of the drama of equal importance are now acting at once. For the next five years we have three several lines of contemporary story, which are now and then intertwined, but which on the whole did not seriously affect one another. Three distinct sets of contemporary events. Each is best told by itself, with as little reference to either of the others as may be. And each begins in the year of which we have now reached the threshold. The sixth year of William Rufus saw the beginning of the primacy of Anselm, the beginning of the main dealings of the reign with Wales and Scotland, the beginning of renewed interference in the Norman duchy. Aspects of Rufus with regard to each. It will be well to keep these three lines of narrative as distinct as may be. They show the Red King in three different characters. In the first story he appears as the representative of the new form which the kingship of Primacy of Anselm.England has taken with reference both to temporal and to spiritual matters within the kingdom. In the second story we see him asserting the powers of the English crown beyond the kingdom of England, but within the island of Britain. Affairs of Scotland and Wales. And here, alongside of the affairs of Scotland, perhaps not very closely connected with them by any chain of cause and effect, but forming one general subject with them as distinguished alike from purely domestic and from continental affairs, will come the relations between England and Wales during the reign of William Rufus. Continental schemes. In the third story we see the beginning of the events which led to those wider schemes of continental policy which almost wholly occupy the last three years of the reign. Revolt of Robert of Mowbray. 1095. One event only of much moment stands apart from the general thread of any of the three stories. It stands by itself, as one of those events which might easily have led to great changes, but which, as a matter of fact, passed away without much result. This is the conspiracy and revolt of Robert of Mowbray and William of Eu, which may, dramatically at least, be connected with either the Scottish or the Norman story, but which, as a matter of actual English history, stands apart from all.

Relations between Rufus and Anselm. Of these three the first on the list must claim the precedence. The relations between Rufus and Anselm involve the whole civil and ecclesiastical policy of the reign. Working of the new ideas. The dispute between King and Primate was the outcome of all that had been working in silence while the Red King was winning castles in Normandy, receiving the homage of Scotland, and enlarging the bounds of England. During those years one side of the results of the Norman Conquest was put into formal shape. Between the fall of Rochester and the restoration of Carlisle, new ideas, new claims, had come to their full growth. New position of the King. Those ideas, those claims, had made the kingship of William the Red something marked by not a few points of difference from the kingship either of the Confessor or of the Conqueror. Ecclesiastical position of the Conqueror. Nowhere does the difference between the elder and the younger William stand forth more clearly than in their dealings with the spiritual power. No king, as I have often shown, was more truly Supreme Governor of the Church within his realm than was the Conqueror of England, her defender against the claims of Rome. William and Lanfranc. But William the Great sought and found his fellow-worker in all things in an archbishop likeminded with himself. We can hardly conceive the reign of the Conqueror without the primacy of Lanfranc. Opposite conduct of Rufus. But the great object of William the Red was to avoid the restraints which could not fail to be placed upon his self-will, if he had one standing at his side whose place it was to be at once the chief shepherd of the English Church and the tribune of the English people. Vacancy of the see of Canterbury. 1089–1093. For three years and more from the death of Lanfranc the see of Canterbury remained vacant. Such a vacancy was without precedent; but it was designed itself to become a precedent. It was by no accident, from no momentary cause, that William delayed the appointment of any successor to his old guardian and counsellor. Its policy. It was part of a deliberate policy affecting the whole ecclesiastical and civil institutions of the realm. Influence of Randolf Flambard. And that policy, there can be little doubt, was the device of a single subtle and malignant genius by whom the whole internal administration of the Red King’s reign was guided.

§ 1. The Administration of Randolf Flambard.
1089–1099.

The chief minister, if we may so call him, of William Rufus, during these years, and indeed to the end of his reign, was that Randolf Flambard or Passeflambard of whom we have already heard.[904] Early history of Flambard. His early history is not easy to trace, beyond the general fact that he rose to power by the same path by which so many others rose in his day, by service in the King’s chapel and chancery.[905] Said to have been settled in England T. R. E. It has been generally thought that he was settled in England as early as the days of Eadward; but it may be doubted whether the evidence bears out this belief. And the course of his life is certainly easier to understand, if we do not bring him into England so soon, or attribute to him so great a length of life, as we must do if we look on him as having been already a land-owner in England before the Conquest.[906] Said to have been in the service of Bishop Maurice [Bishop of London 1086–1107]. On the other hand, if we accept the story which makes him pass to the King’s service from the service of Maurice Bishop of London, he must have been the King’s clerk for so short a time before the death of the Conqueror as hardly to give room for the usual stages of official promotion. Another version places him in the King’s service from his earliest years.[907] Perhaps we may guess that the name of the Bishop of London is wrongly given, and that Flambard had really been in the service of one of Maurice’s predecessors, of Hugh of Orival or of the more famous William. Said to have held the deanery of Twinham. His reason for leaving his episcopal patron is said to have been that a deanery which he held was taken from him, a story which oddly connects itself with another, according to which he was at one time dean or other head of the canons of Twinham—better known as Christchurch—in Hampshire.[908] Preferments held by the clerks of kings and bishops. The story, true or false, like the earlier life of Thomas of London, illustrates the way in which the highest ecclesiastical preferments short of bishoprics and abbeys were held by these clerical servants of kings and bishops. Clerical they often were only in the widest sense; they were sometimes merely tonsured, and they seldom took priest’s orders till they were themselves promoted to bishoprics.[909] Flambard a priest. Randolf Flambard however was a priest;[910] he could therefore discharge the duties of his deanery in person, if he ever troubled himself to go near it. Character of Flambard. Otherwise there was very little of the churchman, or indeed of the Christian, about the future Bishop of Durham and builder of Saint Cuthberht’s nave. At all events it was wholly by his personal qualities, such as they were, that Randolf Flambard made his way to the highest places in Church and State. In his day the Church supplied the readiest opening for the service of the State, and service to the State was again rewarded by all but the highest honours of the Church.

His parents. The man who was practically to rule England had at least little advantage on the score of birth. He is set before us as the son of a low-born priest in the diocese of Bayeux and of a mother who bore the character of a witch, and who was reported to have lost an eye through the agency of the powers with which she was too familiar.[911] Handsome in person, ready of wit, free of speech and of hand, unlearned, loose of life, clever and unscrupulous in business of every kind, he made friends and he made enemies; but he rose. The name Flambard. The surname which cleaves to him in various shapes and spellings is said to have been given to him in the court of the Conqueror by the dispenser Robert, because he pushed himself on at the expense of his betters, like a burning flame.[912] His financial skill. But his genius lay most of all in the direction of finance, in days when finance meant to transfer, by whatever means, the greatest amount of the subject’s money into the coffers of the King. Mention of him in the Conqueror’s reign. One story describes him as sent on such an errand by the Conqueror into the lands of his future bishopric, and as smitten for his crime by the wonder-working hand of Saint Cuthberht himself.[913] There is every reason to believe that he had a hand in drawing up the Great Survey.[914] His share in Domesday. But, while William the Great lived, he seems not to have risen to any high place. Towards the end of his reign the Conqueror did begin to give away bishoprics to his own clerks,[915] but still hardly to such clerks as Randolf Flambard. Nor did the Conqueror need a minister, in the sense of needing one who should in some sort fill his place and exercise his powers. The elder William could rule his kingdom himself, or at most with the advice of the special counsellor whom ancient custom gave him in the person of Lanfranc. His rise under Rufus. But the younger William, sultan-like in his mood, needed, like other sultans, the help of a vizier. And he found the fittest of all viziers for his purpose in the supple clerk from the Bessin.

The reign of Flambard seems to have begun as soon as Lanfranc was gone. He thoroughly suited the Red King’s views. He was ready to gather in wealth for his master from every quarter; he knew how to squeeze the most out of rich and poor; when a tax of a certain amount was decreed, he knew how to make it bring in double its nominal value.[916] He alone thoroughly knew his art; no one else, said the laughing King, cared so little whose hatred he brought on himself, so that he only pleased his master.[917] His alleged new Domesday. He stands charged in one account of his deeds with declaring the Great Survey to be drawn up on principles not favourable enough to the royal hoard, and with causing it to be supplanted by a new inquisition which made the Red King richer than his father.[918] This story is very doubtful; but it is thoroughly in character. His official position. In any case Flambard rose to the highest measure both of power and of official dignity that was open to him. His office and its duties are described in various ways; in that age official titles and functions were less accurately distinguished than they were a little later.[919] He holds the Justiciarship. But there seems no doubt that Flambard, the lawyer whom none could withstand,[920] held the formal office of Justiciar. Till his time that post had not, as a distinct office, reached the full measure of its greatness. Growth of the office under him. It was Flambard himself who raised it to the height of power and dignity which accompanied it when it was held by Roger of Salisbury and Randolf of Glanville. He was to the post of Justiciar what Thomas of London two generations later was to the post of Chancellor; he was the man who knew how to magnify his office.[921] His “driving” of the Gemóts. In that office “he drave all the King’s gemóts over all England.”[922] The King’s thegns who had come to the local assembly on the King’s errand in the days of Æthelred and Cnut[923] had now grown into a mighty and terrible power. How Flambard drave the gemóts we learn elsewhere. He was fierce alike to the suppliant and to the rebel.[924] Suppliant and rebel alike were in his eyes useful only as means for further filling the mighty chest at Winchester. He loses his land for the New Forest. Strangely enough, he himself, clerk and Norman as he was, had found neither birth nor order protect him when the Conqueror had needed a part of his land for the creation of the New Forest.[925] His zeal for the King’s interests. On the principle that man is ever most ready to inflict on others the wrongs which he has borne himself, Flambard, who himself in some sort ranked among the disinherited, was of all ministers of the royal will the most eager to draw the heritage of every man, without respect to birth or order, into the hands of the master whom he served too faithfully.

But we shall altogether misunderstand both Flambard and his master, if we take either of them for vulgar spoilers, living as it were from hand to mouth, and casually grasping any sources of gain which chanced to be thrown in their way. His changes and exactions systematic. Whatever Flambard did he did according to rule and system; nay more, he did it according to the severest rules of logic. Amidst the vague declamations which set him before us as the general robber of all men, we light on particular facts and phrases which give us the clue to the real nature of his doings. His alleged spoliation of the rich. It is worth notice that, in more than one picture, the rich are enlarged on as the special victims of his extortions; in one the Ætheling Henry himself is spoken of as having suffered deeply at his hands.[926] His dealings with the Ætheling Henry. We may guess that this has some special reference to the way in which Henry was defrauded of the lands of his mother, a business in which Flambard is likely enough to have had a share.[927] These references to the wrongs done to the rich have their significance; they point to a cunningly devised system of Flambard’s, by which, the greater a man’s estate was, the more surely was he marked for extortion. The legislation of Flambard, if we can call that legislation which seems never to have been set down in any formal statute,[928] was not at all of the kind which catches the small flies and lets the large ones get through. Witness of the Chronicle. As we have seen in some other cases,[929] a seemingly casual expression of our native Chronicler is the best record of a matter of no small constitutional importance. The King to be every man’s heir. The Red King “would be ilk man’s heir, ordered and lewd.”[930] In those words lay the whole root of the matter. The great work of the Flambard’s lasting burthens and exactions.administration of Flambard, the great work of the reign of Rufus, was to put in order a system of rules by which the King might be the heir of every man. Those few words, which might seem to have dropped from the Chronicler in a moment of embittered sarcasm, do indeed set forth the formal beginning of a series of burthens and exactions under which Englishmen, and preeminently the rich and noble among Englishmen, groaned for not much less than six hundred years after Flambard’s days.

The Feudal Tenures. In short the “unrighteousness” ordained by William Rufus and Randolf Flambard[931] are no other than those Abolished 1660. feudal tenures and feudal burthens which even the Parliament which elected Charles the Second, in the midst of its self-abasement and betrayal of its own ancient rights, declared to have been “much more burthensome, grievous, and prejudicial to the kingdom than they have been beneficial to the king.”[932] Assuredly they were as burthensome, grievous, and prejudicial to the kingdom in the eleventh century as they were in the seventeenth; but assuredly they were found in the eleventh century to be highly beneficial to the King, or they would not have been ordained by Rufus and Flambard. Tenure in chivalry. We have reached the age of chivalry; and tenure in chivalry, with all its mean and pettifogging incidents, was put into a systematic form for the special benefit of the coffers of the king who was before all things the good knight, the preux chevalier, the probus miles. The King “would be the heir of ilk man, ordered and lewd.” Wardship. To that end the estate of the minor heir was to be made a prey; he was himself to be begged and granted and sold Marriage. like an ox or an ass;[933] the heiress, maid or widow, was in the like sort to be begged and granted, sold into unwilling wedlock, or else forced to pay the price which a chivalrous tenure demanded for the right either to remain unmarried or to marry according to her own will. Dealings with bishoprics and abbeys. The bishopric or the abbey was to be left without a pastor, and its lands were to be let to farm for the King’s profit, because the King would be the heir of the priest as well as of the layman. Agency of Flambard in systematizing the feudal tenures. That all this, in its fully developed and systematic form, was the work of Randolf Flambard, I hope I may now assume. I have argued the point at some length elsewhere,[934] and I need not now do more than pass lightly over some of the main points. The evidence. Certain tendencies, certain customs, of which, under the Conqueror and even before the Conqueror, Henry’s charters. we see the germs, but only the germs, appear at the accession of Henry the First as firmly established rules, which Henry does not promise wholly to abolish, while he does promise to redress their abuses. It follows that they had put on their systematic shape in the intermediate time, that is, during the reign of Rufus. One of these abuses, that which for obvious reasons was most largely dwelled on by our authorities, namely the new way of dealing with ecclesiastical property, is distinctly spoken of as a novelty, and a novelty of Flambard’s devising. The obvious inference is that the whole system, a system which logically hangs together in the most perfect way, was the device of the same subtle and malignant brain. Importance of seemingly casual phrases. And having got thus far, we are now enabled to see the full force of those seemingly casual expressions in the writers of the time of which I have already spoken. It was the royal claims of relief, of wardship, and marriage, systematically and mercilessly enforced, no less than the royal claim to enjoy the fruits of vacant ecclesiastical benefices, which are branded in Latin as the injustitiæ of Rufus and Flambard, and which in our own tongue take the shape of the King’s claim to be the heir of every man.

This last pithy phrase takes in all the new claims which were now set up over all lands, whether held by spiritual or temporal owners, and, in some cases at least, over personal property also. All the “unrighteousnesses,” all “the evil customs,” which the charter of Henry promises to reform[935] come under this one head. Flambard’s theory of land-holding. In Flambard’s system of tenure there could be no such thing as an ancient eðel or allod, held of no lord, and burthened only with such payments or duties as the law might lay upon its owner. With him all land was in the strictest sense loanland.[936] The owner had at most a life-interest in it; at his death it fell back to the king, for the king was to be the heir of every man. Relief and redemption. The king might grant it to the son of the last owner; but, if so, it was by a fresh grant,[937] for which the new grantee had to pay. And the terms of Henry’s charter imply that the payment was arbitrary and extortionate. Henry promises that the heir of a tenant-in-chief shall not be constrained to redeem—to buy back—his father’s lands as had been done in his brother’s time; he shall relieve them by a just and lawful relief.[938] Under Rufus then it was held that the land had, by the former holder’s death, actually passed to the king, as the common heir of all men, and that, if the son or other representative of the former holder wished to possess it, he must, in the strictest sense, buy it back from the king. Henry acknowledges the rights of the heir, while still maintaining the theory of the fresh grant. The heir is not to redeem—to buy back—his father’s land; he is merely to relieve it—to take it up again, and he is to pay only the sum prescribed by legal custom, the equivalent of the ancient heriot or the modern succession-duty. So it is with personal property. Dealings with men’s wills. The Red King, it is plain, claimed to be the heir of men’s money, as well as of their land. For one of Henry’s promised reforms is that the wills of his barons and others his men shall stand good, that their money shall go to the purposes to which they may have bequeathed it, and that, if they die without wills, their wives, children, kinsfolk, or lawful men, shall dispose of it as they may think best for the dead man’s soul.[939] Such a reform could not have been needed unless William Rufus had been in the habit of interfering with men’s free right of bequest. Older theory of wills. And it might have been plausibly argued that the right of bequest was no natural right of man, that the most ancient legal doctrine both of Rome and of England was that a will was an exceptional act, which needed the confirmation of the sovereign power. If such a doctrine had anyhow come to the knowledge of Flambard, it would assuredly seem to him a natural inference that no such confirmation should be granted save at such a price as the king might see fit to demand.

Wardship. But of all the devices of Flambard, there was one which, it would seem, was specially his own, one which was at once the most oppressive of all and that which followed most logically from the nature of feudal tenure. This was the lord’s right of wardship. This claim starts from the undoubted doctrine that the fief is after all only a conditional possession of its holder, that he holds it only on the terms of discharging the military service which is due from it. Nothing was easier than to argue that, when the fief passed to an heir who was from his youth incapable of discharging that service, the fief should go back into the lord’s hands till the heir had reached the time of life when he could discharge it. The abuses and oppressions which such a right led to need hardly be dwelled on; they are written in every page of our legal history from the days of Rufus to the days of Charles the First. Nothing now enriches an estate like a long minority; in those times the heir, when at last he came into possession, found his estate impoverished in every way by the temporary occupation of the king or of the king’s favourite to whom the wardship had been granted or sold. Its logical character. Yet it cannot be denied that the argument by which the right of wardship was established was, as a piece of legal argument, quite unanswerable. And of all the feudal exactions certainly none was more profitable. Its oppressive working. The tenant-in-chief who died, perhaps fighting in the king’s cause, and who left an infant son behind him, had the comfort of thinking that his estate would, perhaps for the next twenty years, go to enrich the coffers of his sovereign. On this head Henry speaks less clearly than he speaks on some other points; but his words certainly seem to imply that the wardship of the tenant-in-chief was to go, not to the king, but to the mother or to some kinsman.[940] If so, either Henry himself or his successors thought better of the matter. The right of wardship, as a privilege of the king or other lord, appears in full force in the law-book of Randolf of Glanville.[941]

Extent of Flambard’s changes. When we attribute all these exactions and “unrighteousnesses” to the device of Flambard, it is of course not meant that they were altogether unheard of either before his day or beyond the lands over which his influence reached. Traces of these claims, or of some of them, are to be found wherever and whenever feudal notions about the tenure of land had crept in. All that is meant is that claims which were vaguely growing up were put by Flambard into a distinct and systematic shape. What William the Great did on occasion, for reasons of state, William the Red did as a matter of course, as an ordinary means of making money.[942] Wardship and marriage special to England and Normandy. And it is significant that two of the most oppressive of these claims, that of wardship and the kindred claim of marriage, were, in their fully developed shape, peculiar or nearly so to the lands where Rufus reigned and Flambard governed, to the English kingdom and the Norman duchy.[943] The two sides of feudalism. I have said elsewhere that, of the two sides of feudalism, our Norman kings carefully shut out the side which tended to weaken the royal power, and carefully fostered the side which tended to strengthen it.[944] Both sides of this process were busily at work during the reign of Rufus. The great law of the Conqueror, the law of Salisbury, which decreed that duty to the king should come before all other duties, was practically tried and practically confirmed in the struggle which showed that no man in England was strong enough to stand against the king.[945] England in what sense feudal. England was not to become feudal in the sense in which Germany and France became feudal. But in all those points where the doctrines of feudal tenure could be turned to the king’s enrichment, England became of all lands the most feudal. Flambard the lawgiver of English feudalism. Enactor of no statute, author of no code or law-book, Randolf Flambard was in effect the lawgiver of feudalism, so far as that misleading word has any meaning at all on English soil.

Flambard’s oppression falls most directly on the greatest estates. All this exactly falls in with those phrases in our authorities which speak of Flambard as the spoiler of the rich, the plunderer of the inheritances of other men. It also bears out what I have said already,[946] that there is no evidence to show that Rufus was a direct oppressor of the native English as such. No special oppression of the native English. The subtle devices of tyranny of which we have just spoken directly concerned those only who were the King’s tenants-in-chief. That is to say, they touched a class of estates which were far more largely in Norman than in English hands. Most likely, even in that reign, a numerical majority of the King’s tenants-in-chief would have been found to be of English blood. But such a majority would have been chiefly made up of the very smallest members of the class; the greater landowners, those whose wrongs, under such a system, would be, if not heavier, at least more conspicuous, were mainly the conquerors of Senlac or their sons. It was a form of oppression which would strike men as specially falling upon the rich. A special meaning is thus given to phrases which might otherwise be thought to be merely those common formulæ which, in speaking of any evil which affects all classes, join rich and poor together. The devices of Flambard were specially aimed at the rich. Indirect oppression of other classes. The great mass of the English people, and that large class of Normans who held their lands, not straight of the king but of some intermediate lord, were touched by them only when the lords who suffered by Flambard’s exactions tried to make good their own losses by exactions of the same kind on their own tenants. Dealings of the tenants-in-chief with their under-tenants. That they did so is shown by the reforming charter of Henry. When he promises to deal fairly and lawfully by his barons and his other men in the matters of relief and marriage, he demands that his barons shall deal fairly and lawfully by their men in the like cases.[947] But in the first instance it was mainly the rich, mainly the Normans, whom the feudal devices of Flambard touched. Strange submission of the nobles. And it is not the least strange thing in these times to see a race of warlike and high-spirited nobles, conquerors or sons of conquerors, submit to so galling a yoke, a yoke which must have been all the more galling when we think of the origin and position of the man by whom it was devised. Position of the king’s clerks. We cannot think that the king’s clerks were ever a popular body with any class, high or low, native or foreign. Their position appealed to no sentiment of any kind, military, religious, or national; their rule rather implied the treading under foot of all such sentiments. The military tenants must have looked on them with the dislike which men of the sword, specially in such an age, are apt to look on the rule of men of the pen. In the eyes of strict churchmen they must have passed for ungodly scorners of the decencies of their order. To the mass of the people they must have seemed foreign extortioners, and nothing more. They represented the power of the king, and nothing else. In some states of things the power of the king, even of a despotic king, may be welcomed as the representative of law against force. The reign of unlaw. But under Rufus the power of the king was before all things the representative of unlaw. Yet though all murmured, all submitted. General submission. The son of the poor priest of the Bessin, clothed with a power purely official, lorded it over all classes and orders. Earls, prelates, and people, were alike held down by the guide and minister of the royal will.

Position of Rufus favourable for his schemes. One cause of this general submission is doubtless to be found in the immediate circumstances of the time. The alliance of the King and the English people had for the moment broken the power of the Norman nobles. The ecclesiastical estate was left without a head by the death of Lanfranc. The popular estate was left without a head, as soon as the King turned away from the people who had given him his crown, and broke all the promises that he had made to them. There was no power of combination; the great days when nobles, clergy, and commons, could join together against the king, as three orders in one nation, were yet far distant. Each class had to bear its own grievances as it could; no class could get any help from any other class; and the King’s picked mercenaries, kept at the expense of all classes, were stronger than any one class by itself. Effect on national unity. Yet we cannot doubt that even the rule of Rufus and Flambard did something towards the great work of founding national unity. All the inhabitants of the land, if they had nothing else in common, had common grievances and a common oppressor. For a moment we can believe that the English people would feel a certain pleasure in seeing the men who had once conquered them and whom they had more lately conquered, brought under the yoke, and under such a yoke as that of Flambard. But such a feeling would be short-lived compared with the far deeper feeling of common grievances and common enmities.

Other forms of exaction. For the yoke of Flambard was one which, in different ways, pressed on all classes. If the native English, and the less wealthy men generally, were less directly touched by his feudal legislation than those who ranked above them, Flambard had no mind to let poor men, or native Englishmen, or any other class of men, go scot free. Working of the old laws. If his new devices pressed mainly on the great, he knew how to use the old forms of law so as to press on great and small alike. No one was too high, no one was too low, for the ministers of the King’s Exchequer to keep their eyes on him. No source of profit was deemed too small or too mean, if the coffers of a “Driving” of the Gemóts. chivalrous king could be filled by it. If Flambard sought to seize upon every man’s heritage, he also drave all the King’s gemóts over all England. We have no details; but it is easy to see how the ancient assemblies, and the judicial and administrative business which was done in them, might be turned into instruments of extortion. We have seen that the worst criminals could win their pardon by a bribe,[948] and means might easily be found, by false charges and by various tricks of the law, for wringing money out of the innocent as well as the guilty. Witness of Henry’s charter. We may again turn to Henry’s charter. It is a very speaking clause which forgives all “pleas” and debts due to his brother, except certain classes of them which were held to be due of lawful right.[949] In the days of Rufus and Flambard the presumption was that a demand made on behalf of the crown was unlawful.

Dealings with church property. But there is one form of the exactions of the Red King which, for obvious reasons, stands forth before all others in the pages of the writers of the time. When the King would be the heir of every man, he was fully minded to be the heir of the clerk or the monk as well as of the layman. And Flambard, priest and chaplain as he was, had no mind to sacrifice the interests of his master to the interests of his order. By his suggestion William began early in his reign, as soon as the influence of Lanfranc was withdrawn, to make himself in a special way the heir of deceased bishops and abbots. These great spiritual lords were among the chief land-owners of the kingdom. The kings therefore naturally claimed to have a voice in their appointment. Appointment and investiture of bishops and abbots. They invested the new prelate with his ring and staff; and this right, so fiercely denied to the successor of Augustus, was exercised without dispute by the successor of Cerdic and Rolf.[950] The new prelate received, by the king’s writ, as a grant from the king, the temporal possessions which were attached to the spiritual office.[951] We have seen that this action on the part of the king by no means wholly shut out action either on the part of the local ecclesiastical body or on the part of the great council of the kingdom.[952] Grant of the temporalities by the king. But it was from the king personally that the newly chosen or newly nominated prelate received the actual investiture of his office and its temporalities. The temporalities with which he was invested might have their special Church lands become fiefs. rights and privileges; but at least they were not exempt from the three burthens which no land could escape, among which was the duty of providing men for military service in case of need.[953] As feudal ideas grew, the inference was easy that lands granted by the king and charged with military service were a fief held of the king by a military tenure. We have seen signs of change in that direction in the days of the Conqueror;[954] in the days of Rufus the doctrine was fully established, and it was pushed to its logical results by the lawyer-like ingenuity of Flambard. Flambard’s inferences. If the lands held by a bishop or abbot were a fief held by military tenure, they must be liable to the same accidents as other fiefs of the same kind. Analogy between lay and ecclesiastical fiefs. When a bishop or abbot died, or otherwise vacated his office, the result was the same as when the lay holder of a fief died without leaving an heir of full age. There was the fief; but there was no one ready to perform the duties with which it was charged. The fief must therefore fall back to the lord till it should be granted afresh to some one who could discharge those duties. The king thus, in the words of the Chronicler, became the heir of the deceased bishop or abbot, even more thoroughly than he became the heir of the deceased baron or other lay tenant-in-chief. For in the latter case, except when the late holder’s family became extinct by his death, there was always some one person who had by all law and custom a right above all other men to succeed him. The son or other natural successor might be constrained to buy back the lands of the ancestor,[955] or, if a minor, he might be kept out of them till his time of wardship was over. Still even Flambard would have allowed that such a natural successor had, if he could pay the price demanded, a claim upon the land which was not shared by any one else. But on the lands of a deceased bishop or abbot no man, even of his own order, had any better claim than another till such a claim was created by election or nomination. Vacant prelacies held by the King. The king was the only heir; the lands and all the other property of the vacant office passed into his hands; and, as no election or nomination could hold good without his consent, it was in his power to prolong his possession as heir as long as he thought good. That is to say, by the new device of Flambard, when a bishop or abbot died, the king at once Power of prolonging the vacancy.entered on his lands, and kept them as long as the see or abbey remained vacant. And, as it rested with the king when the see or abbey should be filled, he could prolong the vacancy for any time that he thought good. And William Rufus commonly thought good to prolong the Sale of bishoprics and abbeys. vacancy till some one offered him such a price in ready money as made it worth his while to put an end to it.[956]

The result was that, in the words of the Chronicler, “God’s Church was brought low.”[957] The great ecclesiastical offices, as they fell vacant, were either kept vacant for the King’s profit, or else were sold for his profit to men who, by the very act of buying them, were shown to be unworthy to hold them.[958] Innovations of Rufus. We are distinctly told that this practice was an innovation of the days of Rufus, and that it was an innovation of which Flambard was the author.[959] The charge of simony, like all other charges of bribery and corruption, is often much easier to bring than to disprove; but it is not likely to be spoken of as a systematic practice, unless it undoubtedly happened in a good many cases. Earlier cases of simony. We have come across cases in our earlier history where it was at least suspected that ecclesiastical offices had been sold, or, what proves even more, that they were looked on as likely to be sold.[960] And that the practice was common among continental princes there can be little doubt. Not systematic before Rufus. But there is nothing to make us believe that it was at all systematic in England at any earlier time, and the Conqueror at all events was clear from all scandal of the kind. But the chain of reasoning devised by Flambard would make it as fair a source of profit for the king to take money on the grant of a bishopric as to take it on the grant of a lay fief. And there is no reason to doubt that Rufus systematically acted on this principle, and that, save at the moment of his temporary repentance, he seldom or never gave away a bishopric or abbey for nothing. The other point of the Treatment of vacant churches. charge, that bishoprics and abbeys were kept vacant while the king received the profits, was not a matter of surmise or suspicion, but a matter of fact open to all men. When a prelate died, one of the king’s clerks was sent to take down in writing a full account of all his possessions. All was taken into the king’s hands. Sometimes the king granted out the lands for money or on military tenure, in which case the new prelate, when one was appointed, might have some difficulty in getting them back.[961] In other cases the king kept the property in his own hands, letting it out at the highest rent that he could get, and, as his father did with the royal demesnes, at once making void his bargains if a higher price was offered.[962] In the case of the abbeys and of those churches of secular canons where the episcopal and capitular estates were not yet separated, the king took the whole property of the church, and allowed the monks or canons only a wretched pittance.[963] We have seen that, in one case where local gratitude has recorded that he did otherwise, it is marked as an exception to his usual practice.[964] Flambard the chief agent. And, in all these doings, Flambard, as he was the deviser of the system, was its chief administrator. The vacant prelacies were put under his management; he extorted, for his own profit and for the king’s, such sums both from the monks or clergy and from the tenants of the church lands that they all said that it was better to die than to live.[965]

The practice a new one. These doings on the part of Rufus are by the writers of the time put in marked contrast with the practice of earlier kings, and especially with the practice of his own father. As the old and inborn kings had done nothing of the kind, so neither had the Conqueror from beyond sea. The olden practice. In their days, when an abbot or bishop died, his spiritual superior, the bishop of the diocese or the archbishop of the province, administered the estates of his church during the vacancy, bestowing the income to pious and charitable uses, and handing the estates over to the new prelate on his appointment.[966] In later legal language, the guardian of the spiritualties was also the guardian of the temporalities. Tenure in frank-almoign. Bishoprics and abbeys were dealt with as smaller preferments have always been dealt with, as holdings in frank-almoign. The novelty lay, not in receiving the bishopric or abbey from the king, but in receiving it on the terms of a lay fief. Odo Abbot of Chertsey resigns, 1092. One prelate, Odo Abbot of Chertsey, the Norman successor of the English Wulfwold,[967] resigned his post rather than hold it on such terms.[968] For the rest of the reign of Rufus the estates of the abbey were left in the hands of Flambard. Restored by Henry, 1100. One of the earliest among the reforms of Henry and Anselm was the restoration of Odo.[969]

Vacancies longer in abbeys than in bishoprics. If we look more minutely into the chronology of this reign, it will appear that these long vacancies were more usual in the case of the abbeys than in that of the bishoprics. At the time of William’s death he had in his hands, besides the archbishopric of the absent Anselm, the two bishoprics of Winchester and Salisbury and eleven abbeys.[970] Walkelin dies. Jan. 3, 1098. Of these Winchester had been vacant rather more than two years and a half, Salisbury had been vacant only eight months. Osmund dies. Dec. 3, 1099. And the bishoprics which were filled in his reign had mostly been vacant one, two, or at most three years, shorter times than bishoprics were often kept vacant in much later times.[971] The reason for the difference seems clear. Differences between bishoprics and abbeys. The bishoprics, when they were filled, commonly went to the king’s clerks, to Flambard himself and his fellows. The great temporal position of a bishopric was acceptable to men of this class, and they found in the king’s service the means of making up a purse such as would tempt the king to end the vacancy in their favour[972] . A bishopric was therefore likely to be filled, unworthily filled doubtless, but still filled, before any very long time had passed. The abbeys, on the other hand, would have small attractions for the king’s servants, who in fact, as secular clerks, could not hold them. And the men for whom such a post would have attractions, the monks of the vacant abbey or the abbots or priors of lesser houses, would not have the same means as the king’s servants of making up a purse. The abbeys therefore were likely to remain vacant longer than the bishoprics. When they were filled, it was not without simony, or at least not without a payment of some kind to the King. Case of Peterborough. 1098. For it is rather harsh to apply the word simony to the payment by which the monks of Peterborough bought of the King the right to choose an abbot freely—a free congé d’élire in short, without any letter missive.[973] Another thing may be noticed. The bishops appointed at this time all bear Norman names; Normans were the most likely men to English abbots. find their way into the King’s chapel and chancery. But the abbots are still not uncommonly English.[974] Rufus, who welcomed brave mercenaries from any quarter, also welcomed bribes from any quarter, with little of narrow prejudice for or against particular nations. An English monk was as likely as his Norman fellow to have, by some means quite inconsistent with his rule, scraped together money enough to purchase preferment. And when a body of monks bought the right of free election, they were likely to choose an Englishman rather than a stranger. At all times the kings interfered less with the elections to abbeys than they did with the elections to bishoprics.[975] And, if there is any truth, even as a legendary illustration, in a tale which is told both of Rufus and of other kings, there were moments when the Red King could prefer a practical joke to a bribe. Story of the appointment to an unnamed abbey. An abbey—the name is not given—is vacant; two of its monks come to the King, trying to outbid one another in offers of money for the vacant office. A third brother has come with them, and the King asks what he will give. He answers that he will not give anything; he has simply come to receive the new abbot, whoever he may be, and to take him home with all honour. Rufus at once bestows the abbey on him, as the only one of the party worthy of it.[976] The tale is not impossible; had it been placed in Normandy and not in England, we might have even said that it was not unlikely. For we shall see, as we go on, that, from whatever cause, Rufus dealt with ecclesiastical matters in Normandy in a different spirit from that in which he dealt with them in England.

Sees vacant in 1092. At the point which we have reached in our general story, the time of the restoration of Carlisle, two English sees only were vacant. Two had been filled during the year of the Norman campaign, and both of them by prelates of some personal mark. Ralph Luffa Bishop of Chichester. 1091–1123. Ralph Luffa, Bishop of Chichester, holds a high place in the history of his own church, as the founder alike of the existing fabric and of the existing constitution of its chapter.[977] He bears altogether so good a character that he is not likely to have come to a bishopric in the way which was usual in the days of Rufus. Did the King give him his staff in some passing better moment, like that in which he gave the staff to the worthy abbot at the nameless monastery? But the other episcopal appointment of the same year was one of the usual kind, as far as the motive of the appointment went, though the person to whom the bishopric was given or sold was not one of the class who in this reign commonly profited by such transactions. Death of William Bishop of Thetford. 1091. Bishop William of Thetford, the successor of the unlearned Herfast,[978] died in the year of negotiations, the year of the peace with Robert and the peace with Malcolm.[979] His bishopric was not long kept vacant; before the end of the year the church of Thetford had a new pastor, and one who plays no small part in local history. Herbert Losinga. This was the famous Herbert Losinga,[980] who, if we may trust such accounts of him as we have, made so bad a beginning and so good an ending. Norman by birth, an immediate countryman of the Conqueror, as sprung from the land of Hiesmes, a man of learning and Prior of Fécamp. evident energy, he became a monk of Fécamp and prior of that great house.[981] Early in the reign of Rufus or in the last days of the Conqueror, Abbot of Ramsey. 1087. he was raised to the abbey of Ramsey, when the long and varied life of Æthelsige came to an end.[982] He buys the see of Thetford. He now, on Bishop William’s death, at once bought for himself the see of Thetford for one thousand pounds.[983] Before the end of the year he was consecrated by Archbishop Thomas of York, making his profession to a future Archbishop of Canterbury.[984] At the same time he also bought preferment for his father Robert, who, it must be supposed, had embraced the monastic life. Three years’ vacancy of New Minster. 1088–1091. The New Minster of Winchester had now been for three years, since the death of its last Abbot Ralph, in the hands of Flambard.[985] Herbert now bought the abbacy for his father.[986] Robert Losinga Abbot. 1091–1093. This twofold simony naturally gave great offence, and formed a fertile subject for the eloquence of the time, both in prose and verse.[987] The reign of the father was short; two years later Flambard again held the wardship of New Minster.[988] The career of the son in his East-Anglian bishopric was longer and more varied, and we shall come across him again in the course of our story. Herbert repents and receives his bishopric again from the Pope, c. 1093. At present it is only needful to say that Herbert very soon repented of the shameful way by which he had climbed into the sheepfold, that he went to Rome, that he gave up his ill-gotten bishopric into the hands of Pope Urban, and received his staff from him again in what was deemed to be a more regular way.[989] Herbert’s repentance was to his credit; and, as things stood at the moment, there was perhaps no better way of making amends. But the course which he took was not only one which was sure to bring on him the displeasure of the Red King; it was in the teeth of all the customs of William the Great and of the kings before him. A journey to Rome, without the royal licence, and seemingly taken by stealth,[990] the submission to a Pope whom the King had not acknowledged,[991] the surrender to any Pope of the staff which he had received from the King of the English, were all of them offences, and the last act Novelty of Herbert’s act. was distinctly a novelty. Ulf, Ealdred, Thomas, Remigius, had all been deprived of their staves and had received them again;[992] but no English prelate of those times had of his own act made the Pope his judge in such a matter. When the holy Wulfstan was threatened with deposition, he had, even in the legend, given back his staff, not to the Pope who ruled at Rome, but to the King who slept at Westminster.[993] No wonder then that the Red King was moved to anger by a slight to his authority which his father could not have overlooked, and which might have stirred the Confessor himself to one of his passing fits of wrath. The return of Herbert from Rome forms part of a striking group of events to which we shall presently come.

The two bishoprics of Chichester and Thetford were thus filled soon after they became vacant. Vacancy of Lincoln. 1092–1094. In the year after the consecration of Ralph and Herbert, a third see, as we have seen, fell vacant by the death of Remigius of Lincoln.[994] That see was not filled so speedily as Chichester and Thetford had been; still it did not remain vacant so long as some of the abbeys. But a longer vacancy befell, a lasting vacancy seemed designed to befall, the mother church of all of them. Vacancy of Canterbury. 1089–1093. All this while the metropolitan throne of Canterbury remained empty. No successor to Lanfranc was chosen or nominated; it was the fixed purpose of the Red King to make no nomination himself, to allow no choice on the part of the ecclesiastical electors. Here at least the doctrines of Randolf Flambard were to be carried out in their fulness. It is the state of ecclesiastical matters during this memorable vacancy, and the memorable nomination which at last ended it, which call for our main attention at this stage of our story.

§ 2. The Vacancy of the Primacy and the Appointment of Anselm.
1089–1093.

Effects of the vacancy of the see of Canterbury. It needs some little effort of the imagination fully to take in all that is implied in a four years’ vacancy of the see of Canterbury in the eleventh century. For the King to keep any bishopric vacant in order to fill his coffers with its revenues was a new and an unrighteous thing, against which men cried out as at once new and unrighteous. Special position of the metropolitan see. But to deal in this way with the see of Canterbury was something which differed in kind from the like treatment of any other see. That the bishopric of Lincoln was vacant, that the Bishop of Durham was in banishment, was mainly a local grievance. The churches of Lincoln and Durham suffered; they were condemned to what, in the language of the times, was called a state of widowhood. The tenants of those churches suffered all that was implied in being handed over from a milder lord to a harsher one. The dioceses were defrauded of whatever advantages might have flowed from the episcopal superintendence of Robert Bloet or of William of Saint-Calais. But the general affairs of the Church and realm might go on much the same; there was one councillor less in the gemót or the synod, and that was all. It was another thing when the patriarchal throne was left vacant, when Church and realm were deprived of him who in a certain sense might be called the head of both. An Archbishop of Canterbury was something more than merely the first of English bishops. Setting aside his loftier ecclesiastical claims as the second Pontiff of a second world, he held within the realm of England itself a position which was wholly his own.[995] Its antiquity and dignity. He held an office older and more venerable than the crown itself. There were indeed kings in England before there were bishops; but there were Archbishops of Canterbury before there were Kings of the English. The successor of Augustine, the “head of Angle-kin,”[996] had been the embodiment of united English national life, in days when the land was still torn in pieces by the rivalry of the kings of this or that corner of it.[997] This lofty position survived the union of the kingdoms; it survived the transfer of the united kingdom to a foreign Conqueror. Lanfranc stood by the side of William, as Dunstan had stood by the side of Eadgar. Place of the Archbishop in the assembly. In every gathering of the Church and of the people, in every synod, in every gemót, the Archbishop of Canterbury held a place which had no equal or second, a place which was shared by no other bishop or earl or ætheling. If we reckon the King as the head of the assembly, the Archbishop is its first member. If we reckon the King as a power outside the assembly, the Archbishop is himself its head. His leadership of the nation. He is the personal counsellor of the King, the personal leader of the nation, in a way in which no other man in the realm could be said to be. As of old, under the Empire of Rome, each town had its defensor civitatis, so now, under the kingship of England, the successor of Augustine might be said to hold the place of defensor regni. The position which Lanfranc had held, and in which during these dreary years he had no successor, was a position wholly unlike that of the class of bishops to which we are now getting accustomed, royal officials who received bishoprics as the payment of their temporal services. It was equally unlike that of the statesman-bishops of later times, who might or might not forget the bishop in the statesman, but whose two characters, ecclesiastical and temporal, were quite distinct and in no way implied one another. An archbishop of those times was a statesman by virtue of his spiritual office; he was the moral guardian and moral mouth-piece of the nation. The ideal archbishop was at once saint, scholar, and statesman; of the long series from Augustine to Lanfranc, some had really united all those characters; none perhaps had been altogether lacking in all three. Appointments to the archbishopric. Hence the special care with which men were chosen for so great a place both before and for some time after the time with which we are dealing. The king’s clerks, his chancellor, his treasurer, even his larderer,[998] might beg or buy some bishopric of less account; but, seventy years after this time, the world was amazed when King Henry bethought him of placing Chancellor Thomas, Thomas of London. 1162. not in the seat of Randolf of Durham or Roger of Salisbury, but in the seat of Ælfheah, Anselm, and Theobald.[999] The King’s fixed purpose to keep the see vacant. The surprise which was then called forth by what was looked on as a new-fangled and wrongful nomination to the archbishopric of Canterbury may help us to judge of the surprise and horror and despair which came over the minds of men, as it became plain that the wish, perhaps the fixed purpose, of the Red King was to get rid of archbishops of Canterbury altogether.

The King’s motives. The motives of the King are plain. He sought something more than merely to get possession of the rich revenues of the archbishopric, though that was doubtless not a small matter in the policy of either Rufus or Flambard. The estates of the see. The estates of the see of Canterbury furnished a very perceptible addition to the royal income, and they gave the King a convenient means of rewarding some of his favourites, to whom he granted archiepiscopal lands on military tenure.[1000] Lanfranc himself had already done something like this;[1001] but the usual tendency of lands so granted to pass away from the Church would be greatly strengthened when it was not the Archbishop, but the King, at whose hands they had been received, and to whom the first homage had been paid. But all this was doubtless very secondary. Further motives. In the case of other sees it was a mere reckoning of profit; Rufus had no objection to fill them at once, if any one would make it worth his while to do so. But it is plain that he had a fixed determination to keep the archbishopric vacant, if possible, for ever, at all events as long as the patience of his kingdom would endure such a state of things. To Rufus, whether as man or as king, the appointment of an archbishop was the thing of all others which was least to be wished. To fill the see of Canterbury would be at once to set up a disagreeable monitor by his side, and to put some check on the reign of unright and unlaw, public and private. William doubtless remembered how, as long as Lanfranc lived, he had had to play an unwilling part, and to put a bridle on his worst and most cherished instincts. An archbishop of his own naming could not indeed have the personal authority of his ancient guardian; but any archbishop would have a charge to speak in the name of the Church and the nation in a way which could hardly be pleasing in his ears. The metropolitan see therefore remained unfilled till the day when William Rufus became for a short season another man.

No fear of a bad appointment. It is worth remarking that what might have seemed a very obvious way out of the difficulty clearly did not come into the head of the King or of any one else. The long vacancy of the archbishopric made men uneasy; they were grieved and amazed as to what might happen in so unusual a case; but they felt sure that the present distress must end some time, and they seem to have taken for granted that, when it did end, it would end by the appointment of some one worthy of the place. Men were troubled at the King’s failure to appoint any archbishop; they do not seem to have been at all troubled by fear that he might appoint a bad archbishop.[1002] Rufus himself seems never to have thought of granting or selling the metropolitan see to any of his own creatures, to Flambard for instance or to Robert Bloet. He might so deal with Lincoln or Durham; something within or without him kept him from so dealing with Canterbury. It is throughout taken for granted that the choice lay between a good archbishop or none at all. A good archbishop was the yoke-fellow of a good king, the reprover of an evil king. William Rufus wanted neither of those. But even William Rufus had not gone so far, his subjects did not suspect him of going so far, as to think of appointing an evil archbishop in order to be the tool of an evil king. Primates between Anselm and Thomas. The precedent of making the patriarchal throne of Britain the reward of merely temporal services[1003] did not come till it had been filled by four more primates, all taken from the regular orders, numbering among them at least one saint and one statesman, but no mere royal official. The first degradation of the archbishopric led to its greatest exaltation, in the person of Thomas of London. But Thomas of London, even in his most worldly days, was a very different person from Randolf Flambard.

Seemingly no thought of election. Another point to be remarked is how utterly the notion either of ecclesiastical election or of election in the Great Council of the realm seems to have passed away. There is nothing like an attempt at the choice of an archbishop, either by the monks of Christ Church, No action of the monks.the usual electors, or by the suffragan bishops, who afterwards claimed the right. It might have been too daring a step if the monks had done as they once had done in the days of King Eadward,[1004] if they had chosen an archbishop freely, and then asked for the King’s approval of their choice. Eadward had rejected the prelate so chosen; William Rufus might have done something more than reject him. But we do not hear of their even venturing to petition for leave to elect; they do not, like the monks of Peterborough,[1005] make such a petition, and enforce it by the strongest of arguments. No action of the Witan. Nor do bishops, earls, thegns, the nation at large, venture to act, any more than the monks. They murmur, and that is all. No action on the subject is recorded to have been taken in any of the gemóts till the vacancy had lasted nearly four years; and we shall see that the action which was at last taken showed more strongly than anything else that, as far as this world was concerned, Silent endurance of the action. it rested wholly with the King whether England should ever again have another primate or not. Through the whole time, the nation suffers, but it suffers in silence. We have already had to deal with a king on whose nod all things human and divine were held to hang;[1006] we are now dealing with a king who would have no petition made, no act ascribed, within his realm, to any God or man except himself.[1007]

Results, of the vacancy. The state of things during the time when William Rufus held firm to his purpose that no man should be archbishop but himself,[1008] and when the revenues of the archbishopric were paid into the hands of Randolf Flambard,[1009] was one of general corruption. Corruption of the clergy. It is immediately after recording the King’s way of dealing with bishoprics and abbeys that one of our chief guides breaks forth into his most vehement protest against the vices of the time, and specially against the corruption and degradation of the clergy.[1010] That they took to secular callings, that they became pleaders of causes and farmers of revenues, was not wonderful. Under the rule of Flambard there were endless openings for employments of this kind, employments for which, as in the case of Flambard himself, the clerk was commonly better fitted than the layman. Fiscal spirit of the time. And the general fiscal spirit of the time, the endless seeking after gold and silver of which the King set the example, naturally spread through all classes; every rich man, we are told, turned money-changer.[1011] The constant demands for actual coin, the large outlay of actual coin in the payment of the King’s mercenaries, must have led to an increased activity in the circulation of the precious metals. The newly-come Jews, strong in royal favour, doubtless found their account in this turn of things; but some classes of Christians seem to have found their account in it also. Effects of the lack of ecclesiastical discipline. But, besides all this, the writers of the time seem clearly to connect the frightful profligacy of the time, specially rife among the King’s immediate following, with the vacancy of the archbishopric. It is true that things were not much better in Normandy, where the good soul of Archbishop William must have been daily grieved at the unlawful deeds of almost every one around him. But an Archbishop of Rouen had never been held to have the same authority over either prince or people as an Archbishop of Canterbury. Whatever power, moral or formal, was at any time wielded by the ecclesiastical state for the reformation of manners was altogether in abeyance, now that there was no Primate either to call together a synod of the national Church or to speak with that personal authority which belonged to none of the chiefs of the national Church but himself. Even darker times were in store, when there was a Primate in the land, but when his authority was defied and his person insulted. But as yet the darkest times that men had known were the four years during which the sons of the English Church were left as sheep without a shepherd.

The shepherd was at last to come, like his immediate predecessor, in one sense from a distant land, in another sense from a land which was only too near. The house of Bec, the house of Herlwin, was for the second time to give a patriarch to the isle of Britain. Anselm. It had given us Lanfranc the statesman; it was now to give us Anselm the saint. Debt of England to foreigners. We may reckon it, not as the shame, but as the glory of our nation that we have so often won strangers, and even conquerors, to become our national leaders, and to take their place among the noblest worthies of the soil. Alongside of the lawgiver from Denmark, of the deliverer from France, we rank, as holding the same place among bishops which they hold among kings and earls, the holy man from the Prætorian Augusta.[1012] The annals of the eleventh and twelfth centuries are thick set with the names of foreign prelates holding English sees; and among them both Normandy and Lorraine, to say nothing of Pavia, had sent us some whom we might well be glad to welcome. The Burgundian saints. But the two whose names shine out above them all, the two from whose names all thought of their foreign birth passes away, the two whom we hail as our own by adoption and love, came from a more distant realm, and a realm which is well nigh forgotten. Hugh of Avalon. Hugh of Avalon and of Lincoln came from the more favoured and famous district where the Imperial Burgundy rises to the Alps and sinks again to the Rhone.[1013] Anselm of Aosta. Anselm of Aosta and of Canterbury came from that deep valley which, after all changes, is still Cisalpine Gaul. He came from that small outlying fragment of the Middle Kingdom which has not risen to the destiny of Unterwalden and Bern, of Lausanne and Geneva, but which has escaped the destiny of Bresse and Bugey, of Chablais and Nizza, of royal Arles and princely Orange, and of Hugh’s own home by the city of Gratian.[1014] The vale of Aosta, still Burgundian in its speech and buildings, the last remnant of the great Burgundian dominion of its lords, still gives a title to princes of the house of its earliest and of its latest Humbert. His parentage. The father of Anselm, no less than the father of Lanfranc, was of Lombard birth. But Gundulf had been fully adopted at Aosta, and his son, born on Burgundian soil, son of a Burgundian mother of lofty, perhaps of princely stock,[1015] must be reckoned as belonging to the Associations of his youth. Burgundy in which he was born and bred rather than to the Italy which in after days he visited as a stranger.[1016] There, in the last home of old Gaulish freedom, in an Augusta named after the first Augustus—an Augusta which we doubt whether to call Prætorian from the conquerors or Salassian from the conquered—in the long valley fenced in by the giant Alps on either side—at the foot of the pass where local belief holds that Hannibal had crossed of old and where Buonaparte was to cross in days to come—there where the square walls of the Roman town rise almost untouched above the rushing Dora—where the street still bearing the name of Anselm leads from the Roman gate to the Roman arch of triumph, where the towers of Saint Gratus and Saint Urse, fellows of kindred towers at Verona and at Lincoln, at Schaffhausen and at Cambridge, rose fresh in all their squareness and sternness when Anselm lay as a babe beneath their shadow—there, among the sublimest works of nature and among some of the most striking works of man, was born the teacher of Normandy, the shepherd of England, the man who dived deeper than any man before him into the most awful mysteries of the faith, but whom we have rather to deal with as one who ranks by adoption among the truest worthies of England, the man who stood forth as the champion of right against both political and moral wrong in the days when both political and moral wrong were at their darkest.

Comparison of Lanfranc and Anselm. I have already pointed out the contrast between the characters of Lanfranc and Anselm, in recording one memorable discourse between them, in which Anselm won Lanfranc over to a better mind in the matter of our English Ælfheah.[1017] The calling and the work of the two men were different; and the work of Anselm implied the earlier work of Lanfranc. Lanfranc was, after all, in some sort a conqueror of the English Church, and the character of a conqueror was one in which Anselm could never have shown himself. Lanfranc was a statesman, one whose policy could spread itself far beyond the bounds of this or that kingdom or nation, but whose very policy compelled him not to let the distinctions of kingdoms and nations slip out of his sight. To Anselm we could almost fancy that such distinctions were of small account. He was the servant of God and the friend of all God’s creatures; he perhaps hardly stopped to think whether those whose souls and bodies he was ever ready to help were Burgundian, Norman, or English. Anselm not preferred in England by the Conqueror. With such a spirit as this, he could not have done Lanfranc’s work; and it is worthy of remark that the Conqueror, who so greatly valued him, seems never to have thought of him for any preferment in England. Lanfranc had to carry out a policy, in some measure harsh and worldly, but which, granting his own position and that of his master, could not be avoided. Anselm fittingly came after him, at a time when national distinctions and national wrongs were almost forgotten in the universal reign of evil, to protest in the name of universal right, and in so doing to protest against particular and national wrongs. He would have been out of place in the first days of the Conquest; as a stranger, though only as a stranger, he would have been out of place in the days of our earlier freedom. Various sides of Anselm’s character. When he did come, he was thoroughly in place, as one who was before all things a preacher of righteousness, but who could, when need called for it, put on the mantle of the statesman and even that of the warrior. Like our own Wulfstan, in many things his fellow, we find him the friend and counsellor of men of a character most opposite to his own. And, as we have seen Wulfstan, if not commanding, at least directing, armies,[1018] so we shall see Anselm, if not waging war in his own person, at least hallowing more than one camp by his presence. And we can hardly blame him if, at some later stages of his career, he allowed himself to be swayed by scruples which he had never thought of at its beginning, if, in his zeal for eternal right, he allowed himself to sin against the ancient laws and customs of England. When England, Normandy, France, and the Empire, were as they all were in his day, we can forgive him for looking on the Roman Bishop as the one surviving embodiment of law and right, and for deeming that, when he spake, it was as when a man listened to the oracles of God.

Anselm and Eadmer. The tale of the early life of Anselm has been handed down to us by a loving companion, a man of our own nation, who was won in his youth by the kind words of the foreign saint when he came to England as a momentary visitor, and who in after times became the most faithful of disciples through all the changes of his fortunes. It is one of the marked features of the story that we know so little of Anselm, except from his own writings and from the narrative of Eadmer. Our own historians of the time speak of Anselm with the deepest reverence; References to Eadmer in other writers. but they say little of him beside the broad facts which lie on the surface of English history. Some of them directly refer to his special biographer for fuller accounts.[1019] In telling his story I find myself in the like case. Church’s Life of Anselm. I am tempted to refer once for all for the acts of Anselm to his Life as written in our own day by a master both of description and of comment.[1020] I could be well pleased to send my readers elsewhere to study Anselm the monk and abbot, and to concern myself only with his career as archbishop in our own land. But the earlier and the later career of Anselm hang together, and he has already made his appearance at more than one earlier stage of our own story. I must therefore attempt some general notice, though at less length than if the ground had not been thus forestalled, of the primate who came to us from Aosta, as his predecessor did from Pavia, and who, like his predecessor, made Bec a halting-place on the way to Canterbury.

Childhood of Anselm. In the life of Anselm a childhood and a manhood of eminent holiness are parted by a short time of youthful licence. The little child in his dream climbed his native mountains to seek for the palace of God on a Christian Olympos. He reported the idleness of the handmaids of his Lord; he sat at the feet of his Lord; he was refreshed by the steward of the divine household with a meal of the purest bread.[1021] The scholarly boy was so eager for the monastic life that he prayed for some sickness that might drive him into the cloister.[1022] His youthful licence. But the youth for a while cast aside his piety; he cast aside his learning; he gave himself to the thoughts and sports of the world; he even yielded to those temptations of the flesh which Wulfstan had withstood in the midst of his military exercises,[1023] and which Thomas withstood in the midst of his worldly business.[1024] But the love of his tender and pious mother kept him from wholly falling away. The yearning for a monastic life came He leaves Aosta. 1057.upon him again, though his wishes were greatly opposed by his father. At last, in his twenty-fourth year, Anselm left his own land. His sojourn at Avranches. After three years’ sojourn in Burgundy and France, he reached Normandy, and, in the steps of Lanfranc, first took up his abode at Avranches.[1025] But Lanfranc was now at Bec. He becomes a monk at Bec. 1060. Thither Anselm, fully bent on the monastic calling, followed the great scholar. He had doubted for a while between Bec and Clugny. We shall hardly think the worse of him for his frank confession of human feelings. He doubted, because at Clugny his human learning would be of no use, while at Bec it would be overshadowed by that of Lanfranc.[1026] In the end, by the advice of Lanfranc himself and of Archbishop Maurilius, he became a monk of Elected prior. 1063. Bec, and, when Lanfranc became Abbot of Saint Stephen’s, Anselm succeeded him in the office of prior.[1027]

Stories of him as prior. This first preferment Anselm seems to have taken willingly. A crowd of beautiful stories, setting forth his faith towards God and his kindliness towards all men, belong to this part of his career, the time when he was specially employed in writing his theological works. We admire the mixture of wisdom and kindness with which he reproved the abbot of another house who complained that the boys who were entrusted to his teaching got more and more unruly, even though they were whipped day and night.[1028] We are tempted to feel a slight grudge when he counsels a knight who seems to have been leading a good and devout life in the world to embrace the monastic calling.[1029] Much as that age needed men like Anselm, it still more needed men like Gulbert of Hugleville and Helias of La Flèche. But we note with some interest the comment of Eadmer, so curiously illustrating the common rivalry between one monastery and another. In such cases Anselm did not counsel profession at Bec rather than in any other house, and this particular convert took the cowl at Marmoutiers. Elected Abbot. 1078. At last, on the death of Herlwin, the unanimous choice of the convent called him to the place of abbot. His deep reluctance to accept so great a charge was overcome only by the express command of Archbishop Maurilius, who, on his election to the priorship, had bidden him by virtue of holy obedience to accept both that and any higher preferment which might come in his way.[1030] The election of Anselm to the abbacy marks a stage in our story. It was in his character of abbot that he was first brought into relations with England; in that character he paid his first visit to the land which was presently to make him her own.

Bec under Anselm. The fame of the new Abbot of Bec and of his house, great already, now grew still greater. Learning had shone at Bec ever since Lanfranc came thither; but hitherto it had shone only in the second rank. It now took the chief seat in the person of Abbot Anselm. He was sought by men from all parts as a friend, a teacher, a spiritual adviser. Of the open-handed hospitality of Bec it was not, we are told, for Norman neighbours to speak; those might speak who had found their way thither from the distant lands of Burgundy and Spain.[1031] His widespread fame. The whole Latin world drank in with eagerness the teaching of Anselm.[1032] Scholars of all lands came to sit at his feet. Noble ladies in their widowhood sought his neighbourhood and spiritual direction, and received the honourable title of mothers of the house.[1033] His correspondence. Like all the saints and scholars of his day, he had a crowd of correspondents of all classes; amongst them we see Countess Ida of Boulogne and the Conqueror’s renowned daughter Adela.[1034] Intercourse between Bec and England. And throughout his life and letters we see constant signs of the daily intercourse which, as naturally followed on the circumstances of the time, was ever going on between Normandy and England. The endless going to and fro between the two countries strikes us at every step.[1035] There was an interchange of men; if many Normans found their way to England, some Englishmen found their way to Normandy. Bec had already begun to give bishops to England. Lanfranc had placed two monks of his old house in the episcopal chair of Rochester.[1036] The second of them, the famous Gundulf, had been, when at Bec, the familiar friend of Anselm, who spoke little himself, but who listened to the great teacher, and wept at his touching words.[1037] On the other hand, in the house of Bec itself there were monks who were English of the Old-English stock, monks whom Lanfranc thought fit to call back to their own land and to the monastery of which he was the spiritual father.[1038]

Anselm had thus many ties of friendship and kindly association with England, even before he had any official connexion with the land or its inhabitants. And a strictly official connexion began long before he became archbishop. Lands of Bec in England. The Abbot of Bec had both temporal possessions and spiritual duties within our island. He was the lord of English estates and the spiritual father of brethren settled on English soil. The house of Bec appears in four places in Domesday as holder of lands in England; but one manor only was held in chief of the king. The church of Saint Mary of Bec held the lordship of Deverel in Wiltshire, once the possession of Brihtric, whether the son of Ælfgar or any less famous bearer of the name. This had been the gift of Queen Matilda, and it is worth noting that the value of the land had lessened in the few years between her death and the taking of the Survey.[1039] A smaller estate at Swinecombe in Oxfordshire, held of Miles Crispin, was more lucky; it had grown in value by one third.[1040] In Surrey the house held lands at Tooting and Streatham, the gift of Richard of Clare or of Tunbridge, him of whom we have so often heard. The possessions of Bec at Tooting, which had sunk to one fifth of their ancient value at the time of their grant to the abbey, had risen again to the value at which they were rated in the days of King Eadward.[1041] The business arising out of these lands, all seemingly held in demesne, with a mill, churls, slaves, and other dependents, must have called for some care on the part of the abbot or of those whom he employed for the purpose. And it would seem that, on the whole, the monastic body had been a careful husband of its English estates. In after times also Bec became the head of several alien priories in England; but one only of these can be carried back with certainty to Anselm’s day. This was the priory of Clare in Suffolk, afterwards moved to Stoke, which was founded as a cell to Bec while Anselm was abbot.[1042] The dependent priory of Clare. 1090. It was the gift of Gilbert of Clare, brother of Richard the other benefactor of the house, a house which seems to have had special attractions for the whole family of Count Gilbert.

Law-suits. Anselm was thus a land-owner on both sides of the sea, and, little as he loved temporal business, he could not wholly escape it. No man, no society of men, in either the Normandy or the England of those days, could hope to keep clear of law-suits. The house of Herlwin, new as it was and holy as it was, seems to have been entangled in not a few. Anselm’s desire to do justice. Anselm’s chief wish was that in these disputes justice should be done to all concerned. There were among the monks of Bec, as among the monks of other houses, men who knew the law and who were skilful in legal pleadings. The Abbot had sometimes to charge them to make no unfair use of their skill, and not to strive to win any advantage for the house but such as was strictly just.[1043] Otherwise, as far as he could, he entrusted mere worldly affairs—the serving of tables—to others.[1044] Yet he could not avoid journeys beyond sea on behalf of the house. He was thus more than once compelled to visit England. His first visit to England. 1078. He crossed the sea in the first year of his appointment as abbot. He came to Canterbury; he was received with mickle worship by Lanfranc and the monks of Christ Church.[1045] The first touch of English soil seems to have changed the Burgundian saint, the Norman abbot, into an Englishman and an English patriot. It was now that he made the memorable discourse in which he showed that English Ælfheah was a true martyr.[1046] His friendship with the monks of Christ Church. The Abbot of Bec did not scorn to be admitted into the brotherhood of the monks of Christ Church, and to dwell with them as one of themselves.[1047] It was the time when Lanfranc was doing his work of reform among them,[1048] a work which was doubtless helped by the sojourn and counsel of Anselm. With the more learned among them he lived familiarly, putting and answering questions, both in profane and sacred lore.[1049] And among them he made one friend, English by blood and name, whose memory is for ever entwined with his own. Eadmer. It was now that Eadmer, then a young monk of the house, won his deep regard, and attached himself for ever to the master whose acts he was in after times to record.[1050]

Anselm’s general popularity in England. But it was not only in the church which was one day to be his own, or among men of his own order only, that Anselm made friends in England. He made a kind of progress through the land, being welcomed everywhere, as well in the courts of nobles as in the houses of monks, nuns, and canons.[1051] Everywhere he scattered the good seed of his teaching, speaking to all according to their several callings, to men and women, married and unmarried, monks, clerks, laymen, making himself, as far as was lawful, all things to all men.[1052] Scholar and theologian as Anselm was, his teaching was specially popular; His preaching. he did not affect the grand style, but dealt largely in parables and instances which were easy to be understood.[1053] The laity therefore flocked eagerly to hear him, and every man rejoiced who could win the privilege of personal speech with the new apostle.[1054] The men of that age, stained as many of them were with great crimes—perhaps all the more because their crimes were of a kind which they could not help feeling to be crimes—commonly kept enough of conscience and good feeling to admire in others the virtues which they failed to practise themselves. William Rufus himself had moments when goodness awed him. It was only a few exceptional monsters like the fiend of Bellême whom no such feelings ever touched. His love for England. Anselm became the idol of all the inhabitants of England, without distinction of age or sex, of rank or race. The land became to him yet another home, a home which he loved to visit, and where he was ever welcome.[1055] His alleged miracles. Men sought to him for the cure of bodily as well as spiritual diseases; and we read of not a few cases of healing in which he was deemed to be the agent, cases in which modern times will most likely see the strong exercise of that power which, from one point of view, is called imagination, and from another faith.[1056] The highest in estate and power were the most eager of all to humble themselves before him. His friendship with the Conqueror; We have seen how the elder William, ever mild to good men, was specially mild to Anselm, how he craved his presence on his death-bed, and how Anselm, unable to help his master in life, was among those who did the last honours to him in death.[1057] We are told that there was not an earl or countess or great person of any kind in England, who did not seek the friendship of Anselm, who did not deem that his or her spiritual state was the worse if any opportunity had been lost of doing honour or service to the Abbot of Bec.[1058] Like some other saints of his own and of other times, he drew to himself the special regard of some whose characters were most unlike his own. with Earl Hugh. Earl Hugh of Chester, debauched, greedy, reckless, and cruel, beyond the average of the time, is recorded as being a special friend of the holy man.[1059] Hugh’s changes at Chester. He who rebuked kings doubtless rebuked earls also; but it would have been a better sign of reformation, if Hugh, under the teaching of Anselm, had learned to spare the eyes either of brother nobles or of British captives, than if he was merely led to place monks instead of canons at Saint Werburh’s, and in the end to take the cowl among them himself.

Feeling as to the vacancy of the archbishopric. 1092. But the planting of monks at Saint Werburh’s had no small effect on the destiny of Anselm and of England. In the course of the year which saw the annexation of Cumberland men began to be thoroughly wearied of the long vacancy of the archbishopric. It may be that the great gathering at Lincoln had brought home to every Vacancy of Lincoln.mind the great wrong under which the Church was suffering. The bishops of the land had come together to a great ecclesiastical rite; but they had come together as a body without a head. And they had parted under circumstances which made the state of things even worse than it had been when they met. The death of Remigius had handed over another bishopric to the wardship of Flambard. The land from the Thames to the Humber, the great diocese which took in nine shires, was to be left without a shepherd as long as Rufus and Flambard should think good. That is, it was to be left till some one among the King’s servants should be ready to do by Lincoln as Herbert Losinga had done by Thetford. Men began to say among themselves that such unlaw as this could not go on for ever; the land could not abide without a chief pastor; an archbishop must soon come somehow, whether the King and Flambard willed it or not. Anselm looked to as the coming archbishop. The feeling was universal; and with it another feeling was almost equally universal; when the archbishop should come, he could come only in the shape of the man who was of all men most worthy of the office, the man whom all England knew and loved as if his whole life had been spent within her seas, the holy Abbot of Bec.[1060] That such was the general feeling in England soon became known out of England; it became known at Bec as at other places; it was not hidden from the Abbot of Bec himself.

Earl Hugh seeks help from Anselm in his reforms. 1092. At the time which we have now reached Earl Hugh was planning his supposed reforms at Saint Werburh’s. Designing to fill the minster with monks, he would have his monks from the place where the monastic life was most perfectly practised; the men who were to kindle a new light at Chester must come from Bec.[1061] It was in the end from Bec that the first abbot Richard and his brethren came to wage that strife which we are told was so specially hard-fought in that region.[1062] But the founder further wished the work to be done under the eye of the Abbot of Bec himself; so, trusting in his old friendship, Earl Hugh prayed Anselm to come to him. His prayer was backed by that of other nobles of England;[1063] the monks of Bec too deemed that either the affairs of Saint Werburh’s or some other business of the monastery called for their abbot’s presence in England.[1064] Anselm refuses to go. But Anselm at first steadily refused to go; the general rumour had reached his own ears; he had been told that, if he went to England, he would certainly become Archbishop of Canterbury. His motives. He shrank from the acceptance of such an office; he shrank yet more from doing anything which might even have the look of seeking for such an office. It might be a question of casuistry whether the command of Maurilius to accept any preferment that might be offered could have any force beyond the life and the province of Maurilius; yet that command may have made Anselm yet more determined to keep out of the way of all danger of having the see of Canterbury offered to him. He refused to go to England, when it was possible that his object in going might be cruelly misconstrued.[1065] Hugh’s sickness and second message. Another message came, announcing that Earl Hugh was smitten with grievous sickness, and needed the spiritual help of his friend. Moreover Anselm need not be afraid; there was nothing in the rumours which he had heard; he stood in no danger of the archbishopric.[1066] In this Hugh most likely spoke the truth. Others had brought themselves to believe that there must soon be an archbishop, and that that archbishop must be Anselm. But they had no ground for thinking that anything of the kind would happen, except that it was the best thing that could happen. The Earl of Chester was as likely as any man except Flambard to know the King’s real mind; and what followed makes it plain that as yet Rufus had no thought of filling the archbishopric at all. The third message. Still Anselm would not go till a third message from the Earl appealed to another motive. It would not be for the soul’s health of Anselm himself if he stayed away when his friend so deeply needed his help.[1067] To this argument Anselm yielded; for the sake of friendship and of his friend’s spiritual welfare, he would go, let men say what they would about his motives for going.[1068]

He is bidden to go by his monks. But the invitation of Earl Hugh was not Anselm’s only motive for his journey. Another cause was added which a little startles us. The business of the abbey in England, business to be done with the King, still called for the abbot’s presence there. The monks sought to have the royal exactions on their English lands made less heavy.[1069] At this moment Anselm was not at Bec; he was spending some days at Boulogne with his friend and correspondent Countess Ida.[1070] While there, he received a message from Bec, bidding him, by virtue of the law of obedience, not to come back to the abbey till he had gone into England and looked after the matters about which he was needed there.[1071] Such a message as this from monks to their abbot sounds to us like a reversal of all monastic order; but it seems to have been held that, while each monk undoubtedly owed obedience to the abbot, the abbot himself owed obedience to the general vote of the convent. To these two influences, the law of obedience and care for Earl Hugh’s soul, Anselm at last yielded. He set sail from Boulogne or Whitsand, and landed at Dover. Anselm goes to England. He was now within what was presently to be his own province, his own diocese; and that province he was not again to leave till he sought shelter on the mainland in the character of archbishop and confessor.

The immediate business of Anselm led him to Chester, and to the place, wherever it was, where the King was to be found. We are told that he made the best of his way to his sick friend,[1072] who was so eager for Anselm’s coming that he despised all other spiritual help.[1073] But it is plain that he tarried on the road to see the King. From Dover his first stage was Canterbury. Anselm at Canterbury. September 8, 1092. There he was alarmed by the welcome given him by a crowd of monks and laymen who hailed him as their future archbishop. It was a high festival, the Nativity of our Lady; but Anselm, wishing to give no encouragement to such greetings as he had just received, declined to officiate at the celebration of the feast. He tarried but one night in the city, and left it early the next morning.[1074] His first interview with Rufus. He then went to the King. The reception which he met with showed that Rufus must have been for the moment in one of his better moods. Anselm indeed was a chosen friend of his father, and he had given him no personal offence. As soon as the approach of the Abbot of Bec was announced, the King arose, met him at the door, exchanged the kiss of peace, and led him by the hand to his seat.[1075] A friendly discourse followed. Perhaps the very friendliness of William’s greeting brought it more fully home to Anselm’s mind that it would be a failure of duty on his own part if he spoke only of the worldly affairs of his abbey. Anselm’s rebuke of the King. He must seize the moment to give a word of warning to a sinner whose evil deeds were so black, and who disgraced at the same time so lofty an office and such high natural gifts. Anselm asked that all others might withdraw; he wished for a private interview with the King. The affairs of the house of Bec were, for the moment at least, passed by; the welfare of the kingdom of England, and the soul’s health of its king, were objects which came first. Anselm told Rufus in plain words that the men of his kingdom, both secretly and openly, daily said things of him which in no way became his kingly office.[1076] From later appeals of Anselm to the conscience of Rufus, we may conceive that this general description took in at once the special wrongs done to the Church, the general abuses of William’s government, and the personal excesses of William’s own life. Anselm was not the man to hold his peace on any one of those three subjects; but we have no details of Anselm’s discourse from his own biographer, nor does he give us any notice of the way in which William received his rebuke.[1077] Yet it would seem that the milder mood of the Red King had not wholly passed away. If Anselm had been thrust aside with any violent or sarcastic answer, it would surely have passed into one of the stock anecdotes of the reign. Our only other description of the scene paints Rufus as held back from any disrespectful treatment of Anselm by a lingering reverence for the friend of his parents. He turned the matter off with a laugh. He could not hinder what men chose to say of him; but so holy a man as Anselm ought not to believe such stories.[1078] It is not even clear whether Anselm brought himself to speak at all on the particular business which had brought him to the King’s presence. Settlement of the affairs of Bec. King and Abbot parted; it would seem that nothing was done about the affairs of Bec for the present; but we may gather that, at some later time, the lands of the monastery were relieved from the burthens of which they complained.[1079]

Anselm at Chester. Anselm now went on to Chester, where he found his friend Earl Hugh restored to health. But the change in the foundation at Saint Werburh’s still needed his presence, and the special affairs of his own house had also to be looked to. Between these two sets of affairs, Anselm was kept in England for five months. The King refuses him leave to go back. February, 1093. He then wished to go back to Normandy; but the King’s leave, it seems, was needed, and the King’s leave was refused.[1080]

This refusal is worth notice. It does not seem to have been done in enmity; at least it was not followed by any kind of further wrong-doing on the King’s part towards Anselm. William’s feeling towards Anselm. It really looks as if William had, not indeed any fixed purpose of appointing Anselm to the archbishopric, but a kind of feeling that he might be driven to appoint him, a feeling that things might come to a stage in which he could not help naming some archbishop, and that, if it came to that stage, he could not help naming Anselm. It is plain from what follows that the thought of Anselm as a possible archbishop was in the King’s mind as well as in the minds of others. But certainly no offer or hint was at this stage made by William, nor was anything said to Anselm about the matter by any one else.[1081] Men no doubt knew Anselm’s feelings, and avoided the subject. But at one point during these five months the vacancy of the archbishopric was brought very strongly before Anselm’s mind, though Christmas Assembly, 1092–1093.not in a way which suggested his own appointment rather than that of anybody else. When the Midwinter Gemót of this year was held, the long vacancy, and the evils which flowed from it, The vacancy discussed by the Witan. became a matter of discussion among the assembled Witan. But they did not venture to attempt any election, or even to make any suggestion of their own; they did not even make any direct petition to the King to put an end to the vacancy. Petition of the Assembly to the King. A resolution was passed—our contemporary guide doubted whether future ages would believe the fact—that the King should be humbly petitioned to allow prayers to be put up throughout the churches of England craving that God would by his inspiration move the King’s heart to put an end to the wrongs of his head church and of all his other churches by the appointment of a worthy chief pastor.[1082] We thus see that the power of ending or prolonging the vacancy is acknowledged to rest only with the King; it is not for the Witan to constrain, but only for God to guide, the royal will. But we further see that the right of ordaining religious ceremonies is held to rest with the King and his Witan, just as it had rested in the days of Cnut.[1083] The unanimous petition of the Assembly was laid before the King. He was somewhat angry, but he took no violent step. He agreed to the matter of the address, but in a scornful shape. Prayers for the appointment of an archbishop. “Pray as you will; I shall do as I think good; no man’s prayers will do anything to shake my will.”[1084] To draw up a proper form of prayer was the natural business of the bishops; and they had among them one specially skilled in such matters in the person of Osmund of Salisbury. But they all agreed to consult the Abbot of Bec, and to ask him to draw up a prayer fitted for the purpose. Anselm draws up a form of prayer. Anselm, after much pressing, agreed; he drew up the prayer; it was laid before the Assembly, and his work was approved by all.[1085] The Gemót broke up, and prayers were offered throughout England, according to Anselm’s model, for the appointment of an archbishop, a prayer which on most lips doubtless meant the appointment of Anselm himself.[1086]

The year 1093. Before the Assembly broke up, a memorable year had begun. It is a year crowded with events, with the deaths of memorable men, with one death above all which led to most important results on the relations between the two great parts of the isle of Britain. With these events I shall deal in another chapter; we have now mainly to trace the ecclesiastical character of the year as the greatest of all stages in the career of Anselm. The Assembly had doubtless been held at Gloucester, and, after the session was over, the King tarried in the neighbourhood, at the royal house of Alvestone, once a lordship of Earl Harold.[1087] William’s sickness at Alvestone. There he was smitten with a heavy sickness. The tale has a legendary sound; yet there is nothing really incredible in the story that he fell sick directly after he had been guilty of a mocking speech about Anselm. Discourse about Anselm before the King. Some nobles were with the King at Alvestone, and one of them spoke of the virtues of the Abbot of Bec. He was a man who loved God only, and sought for none of the things of this world. The King says in mockery, “Not for the archbishopric of Canterbury?” The remark at least shows that Anselm and the archbishopric went together in the King’s thoughts as well as in the thoughts of other men.[1088] The King’s mockery. The lord who had spoken answered that, in his belief and in that of many others, the archbishopric was the very thing which Anselm least wished for.[1089] The King laughed again, and said that, if Anselm had any hope of the archbishopric, he would clap his hands and stamp with his feet, and run into the King’s arms. But he added, “By the face of Lucca, he and every other man who seeks the archbishopric may this time give way to me; for I will be archbishop myself.”[1090] He repeated the jest several times. He falls sick and is moved to Gloucester. Presently sickness came upon him, and, in a few hours, he took to his bed. He was carried in haste from Alvestone to the neighbouring city, where he could doubtless find better quarters and attendance.[1091] He lay sick during the whole of Lent; Ash Wednesday, March 2, 1093.but, unless his sickness began somewhat earlier, the whole of the events with which we have to deal must have been crowded into the first few days of the penitential season. At all events, during the first week of Lent, William Rufus was lying at Gloucester, sick of a sickness which both himself and others deemed to be unto death.[1092]

Repentance of Rufus. The heart of the Red King was not yet wholly hardened; with sickness came repentance. Believing himself to be at the gates of the next world, his conscience awoke, and he saw in their true light the deeds which he had been so long doing in this world. He no longer jested at his own crimes and vices; he bemoaned them and began to think of amendment. The great men of the realm, bishops, abbots, and lay nobles, pressed around his sick bed, looking for his speedy death, and urging him to make what atonement he could for his misdeeds, while he yet lived. Advice of the prelates and nobles. Let him throw open his prisons; let him set free his captives; let him loose those who were in chains; let him forgive his debtors—it is again assumed that a debt to the Crown must be a wrongful debt—let him provide pastors for the churches which he holds in his hands; above all, let him set free the head church of all, the church of Canterbury, whose bondage was the most crying wrong of his kingdom.[1093] All this they pressed, each to the best of his power, on the no longer unwilling mind of the King. It bethought them moreover that there was one not far off, who was more skilled than any of them in healing the diseases of the soul, and whose words would strike deeper into the heart of the penitent than the words of any other. Anselm sent for. The Abbot of Bec was still in England; he was even, knowing nothing of what was going on, tarrying at no great distance from Gloucester.[1094] A messenger was sent, bidding him come with all speed; the King was dying, and needed his spiritual help before all was over. Anselm and Rufus. Anselm came at once; he asked what had passed between the sick man and his directors, and he fully approved of all the counsel that they had given to the repentant sinner.[1095] The duties of confession, of amendment, of reparation, the full and speedy carrying out of all that his advisers had pressed upon him, was the only means, the only hope. By the general voice of all, Anselm was bidden to undertake the duty of making yet another exhortation to the royal penitent. Anselm spoke, and William hearkened. He more than hearkened; he answered, and for the moment he acted. Rufus promises amendment. He accepted all that Anselm told him; he promised to amend his ways, to rule his kingdom in mildness and righteousness. To this he pledged his faith; he made the bishops his sureties, and bade them renew the promise in his name to God before the altar.[1096] His proclamation. More practical still, a proclamation was put forth under the royal seal, promising to the people, in the old form, good laws, strict heed to right, strict examination into wrong. The vacant churches should be filled, and their revenues should be restored to them. The King would no longer sell them or set them to farm. All prisoners should be set free; all debts to the crown should be forgiven; all offences against the King should be pardoned, and all suits begun in the King’s name stopped.[1097] General satisfaction. Great was the joy through the land; a burst of loyal thankfulness was in every heart and on every mouth. The rule of King William was henceforth to be as the rule of the best of the kings who had gone before him. Thanksgivings went up to God through the whole land, and earnest prayers for the welfare of so great and so good a king.[1098]

This was the second time that the people of England had greedily swallowed the promises of the Red King. He had already deceived them once; but kings are easily trusted, and the awful circumstances under which reform was now promised might well lead men to believe that the promise was sincere. Beginnings of reform. Sincere for the moment it doubtless was; nor did the proclamation remain altogether a dead letter. The reforms were actually begun; some at least of the prisoners were set free. William also now made grants to some monasteries,[1099] and, what was more important than all, he filled the vacant bishoprics. He grants the bishopric of Lincoln to Robert Bloet. The fame of one of the two appointments so fills the pages of our guides that we might easily forget that it was now that the staff of Remigius was given to Robert Bloet.[1100] We have heard of him already as an old servant of William the Great, and as trusted by him with the weighty letter which ruled the succession of the crown on behalf of William the Red.[1101] He was now the King’s Chancellor. He bears a doubtful character; he was not a scholar, but he was a man skilful in all worldly business; he was not a saint, but he was perhaps not the extreme sinner which some have painted him.[1102] His consecration was put off for nearly a year; and we shall meet him again in the midst of a striking and busy scene when the next year has begun. For the present we need only remember that two bishops, and not one only, were invested, according to the ancient use of England, by the royal hand at the bedside of William Rufus.

We may take for granted that it took no such struggle to change the King’s Chancellor into the Bishop-elect of Lincoln as it took to change the man on whom all eyes were now fixed into an Archbishop-elect of Canterbury. March 6, 1093. It was now a Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent; a gathering of bishops and other chief men stood around the King who was believed to be dying. He had solemnly repented; he must now make restitution. The best men among those who stood around him pressed yet more strongly on his mind the duty of at once filling the metropolitan see. The sick man answered that such was his purpose. They asked whom he deemed worthy of such a post; none dared suggest any name; the choice rested wholly with the royal will.[1103] Rufus names Anselm to the archbishopric. The King made an effort; he sat up in his bed; he pointed out the Abbot of Bec among those who filled the room, and spake the words; “I choose this holy man Anselm.”[1104] The feeling which now bids men to listen in silence to the official utterances of royal lips was then unheard of; even the fear of danger to the sick man General delight. yielded to the universal joy; a loud shout of applause rang through the chamber which was soon, as men deemed, to be the chamber of death. One man alone joined not in the shout; one man grew pale and trembled in every limb. The moment so long dreaded had at last come; the burthen from which he shrank was at last to be forced on the shoulders of the struggling abbot. For in the case of Anselm the struggle was no metaphor. Unwillingness of Anselm. He was dragged to the King’s bedside to receive the investiture[1105]—no thought of the elective rights of the monks of distant Christ Church seems to have come into the head of any man. Pouring out reasons against his own appointment, Anselm withstood by main force all efforts to drag him nearer to the King. The bishops at last succeeded in drawing him apart from the crowd, and began Arguments of the bishops. to argue with him more quietly.[1106] They warned him not to withstand the will of God, or to refuse the work to which he was called. He saw that Christianity had almost died out in England; everything had fallen into confusion; every abomination was rife. One bolder voice—was it the voice of English Wulfstan or of Norman Gundulf?—added words such as are not often uttered in the chamber of a king, and which even then perhaps were not meant to reach kingly ears. “By the tyranny of that man”[1107]—pointing to the sick king on his bed—“we and the churches which we ought to rule have fallen into danger of eternal death; wilt thou, when thou canst help us, scorn our petition?” The appeal went on; Anselm was told how the church of Canterbury, in whose oppression all were oppressed, called to him to raise up her and them; could he, casting aside all thought for her freedom, all thought for the help of his brethren, refuse to share their work, and seek only his own ease? Anselm pleaded at length; he was old; he was unused to worldly affairs. He prayed to be allowed to abide in the peaceful calling which he loved. The bishops all the more called on him to take the rule over them which was offered to him; let him guide them in the way of God; let him pray to God for them, and they would manage all worldly affairs for him.[1108] He then pleaded that he was the subject of another realm;[1109] he owed obedience to his own prince, to his own archbishop; he could not cast off his duty to them without their leave; nay, he could not, without the consent of his own monks, cast off the duties which he owed to them. The bishops told him that the consent of all concerned would be easily gained. He protested that all that they did, all that they purposed, was nought.[1110]

Anselm dragged to the King’s bedside. The bishops had certainly the better in the argument; they had also the better in the physical struggle; for they now dragged Anselm close to the King’s bedside. They set forth to Rufus what they called the obstinacy of the Abbot;[1111] it was for the King to try what his personal authority could do. The sick man, lately so proud and scornful, was stirred even to tears; he made a speech far longer than his wont, but which seems to carry with it the stamp of genuineness. He had raised himself to speak his formal choice with a voice of authority; he now spoke, in plaintive and beseeching words, in the ear of the holy man beside him. In the mind of Rufus at that moment it was his own personal salvation that was at stake. Pleadings of the King. “O Anselm,” he whispered, “why do you condemn me to eternal torments? Remember, I pray you, the faithful friendship which my father and my mother had to you and which you had to them; by that friendship I adjure you not to let their son perish both in body and soul. For I am sure that I shall perish if I die while I still have the archbishopric in my hands.[1112] Help me then, help me, lord and father; take the bishopric for the holding of which I am already greatly confounded, and fear that I shall be confounded for ever.” Still Anselm drew back and excused himself. Then the bishops again took up their parable in a stronger tone. Further pleadings of the bishops What madness had possessed him? He was harassing the King, almost killing him; his last moments were embittered by Anselm’s obstinacy.[1113] They gave him to know that whatever disturbances, oppressions, and crimes, might hereafter disturb England would all lie at his door, if he did not stop them that day by taking on him the pastoral care. Still—so he himself witnessed afterwards—wishing rather, if it were God’s will, to die than to take on him the archbishopric, he turned to two of his own monks who had come with him, Eustace and Baldwin of Tournay, and asked them to help him.[1114] Baldwin answered, and of his own monks. “If it be the will of God that it shall be so, who are we that we should withstand the will of God?” His words were followed by a flood of tears, his tears by a gush of blood from his nostrils. Anselm, surely half-smiling, said, “Alas, how soon is your staff broken.” The King then, seeing that nothing was gained, bade the bishops fall at Anselm’s feet and implore him to take the see. A like scene had been gone through at Bec when it was first sought to raise Anselm to the abbacy.[1115] The bishops fell at his feet, and implored; Anselm fell at their feet, and implored back again. There was nothing to be done save the last shift of, so to speak, investing him with the bishopric by physical force. He is invested by main force. A cry was raised for a pastoral staff; the staff was brought, and was placed in the sick king’s hand.[1116] The bishops seized the right arm of Anselm; some pushed; some pulled; he was forced close up to the Kings bed. The King held out the staff; the Abbot, though his arm was stretched out against his will, held his hand firmly clenched. The bishops strove to force open his fingers, till he shrieked with the pain. After much striving, they managed to raise his forefinger, to place the staff between that one finger and his still closed hand, and to keep it there with their own hands.[1117] This piece of sheer violence was held to be a lawful investiture. The assembled crowd—we are still in the sick king’s room—began to shout “Long live the Bishop.” The bishops and clergy began to sing Te Deum with a loud voice.[1118] He is installed in the church. Then the bishops, abbots, and nobles, seized Anselm, and carried rather than led him into a neighbouring church—was it the great minster of Ealdred or its successor growing up under the hands of Serlo?[1119]—while he still refused and struggled and protested that all that they did went for nothing.[1120] A looker-on, Anselm himself says, might have doubted whether a crowd in their right mind were dragging a single madman, or whether a crowd of madmen were dragging a single man who kept his right mind.[1121] Anyhow they reached the church and there went through the ceremonies which were usual on such occasions.[1122] Anselm was now deemed to have become, however much against his own will, Archbishop-elect of Canterbury.

Anselm’s renewed protest. From the church Anselm went back to the King’s chamber. He there renewed his protest against the appointment, but he renewed it in the form of a prophecy. “My lord the King, I tell you that you will not die of this sickness; I would therefore have you know how easily you can undo what has been this day done with regard to me, as I never agreed, nor do I agree, that it shall be held valid.”[1123] He then left the sick room, and spoke to the bishops and nobles in some other place, perhaps the hall of the castle. Whether formally summoned as such or not, they were practically a Gemót of the realm.[1124] His parable to the prelates and nobles. Anselm spoke to them in a parable, founded on the apostolic figure which speaks of the Church as God’s husbandry.[1125] In England the plough of the Church ought to be drawn by two chief oxen of equal strength, each pulling with the same good will. These were the King and the Archbishop of Canterbury, one ruling by worldly justice and dominion, the other by divine doctrine and teaching. So, he implies, it had been in the days of William the Great and of Lanfranc his yoke-fellow.[1126] The figure is one which will bear much study. It is perhaps in England alone that it could have been used. Its special fitness in England. In the highest rank of all, used to the loftier metaphors of the two great lights of heaven and the two swords on earth, figures drawn from ploughs and oxen might have seemed unworthy of the supreme majesty of the Roman Emperor and the Roman Pontiff. In other lands the metaphor would have failed from another side. The Primate of Rheims or of Rouen could hardly be spoken of as in the same sort the yoke-fellow of the French King or the Norman Duke. In England the parable had more truth. It set forth at once the supreme ecclesiastical authority of the King, and the check which ancient custom put on that authority in the shape of an archiepiscopal tribune of the people. But the happy partnership of the two powers had come to an end. The strong ox Lanfranc was dead. His surviving yoke-fellow was a young and untameable wild bull.[1127] With him they wished to yoke an old and feeble sheep, who might perhaps furnish them with the wool and milk of the Lord’s word, and with lambs for His service,[1128] but who was utterly unequal to the task of pulling in fellowship with such a comrade. His weakness and the King’s fierceness could never work together. If they would only think over the matter, they would give up the attempt which they had begun. The joy with which they had hailed his nomination would be turned into sorrow. They talked of his raising up the Church from widowhood; if they insisted on forcing him into the see, the Church would be thrust down into a yet deeper widowhood, widowhood during the life of her pastor. He himself would be the first victim; none of them would dare to give him help, and then the King would trample them too under his feet at pleasure. He then burst into tears; he parted from the assembly, and went to his own quarters, whether in the city of Gloucester or at the unnamed place where he had before been staying.[1129] The King orders the restitution of the lands of the see. The King, foreseeing no further difficulties, gave orders that steps should be taken for investing him without delay with the temporal possessions of the see.[1130] But a whole train of unlooked-for hindrances appeared before Anselm could be put into possession of either the temporal or the spiritual powers of Lanfranc.

The royal right of investiture not questioned. At this first stage of the story, as at every other, as long as the scene is laid in England, we are struck in the strongest way by the fact that every one concerned takes the ancient customs of England for granted. If those customs have changed from what they may have been under Cnut or Eadward, they have at least not changed to the advantage of the Roman see, or indeed of the ecclesiastical power in any shape. Hildebrand has no followers either in England or in Normandy. No one has called in question the right either of the King of the English or of the Duke of the Normans to invest the prelates of his dominions with the pastoral staff. No scruples on the part of Anselm. There is not one word in the whole story implying that any one had any scruple on the subject. Anselm clearly had none. He had received the staff of Bec from the Duke; if he was not ready to receive the staff of Canterbury from the King, it was not because of any scruple as to the mode of appointment, but because he refused to accept the appointment itself, however made. Not a single English bishop has a word to say on the matter. We could not look for such scruples in Wulfstan who had received his staff from the holy Eadward; but neither do they trouble William of Saint-Calais, so lately the zealous champion of the rights of Rome. If anything, the bishops seem to attribute a kind of mystic and almost sacramental efficacy to the investiture by the King’s hand. No ecclesiastical election. Nor is there a word said as to the rights of any ecclesiastical electors, the monks of Christ Church or any other. It is taken for granted that the whole matter rests with the King. Anselm protests against the validity of the act, but not on any ground which assumed any other elector than the King. The nomination was invalid, because he did not consent to it himself, because the Duke of the Normans, the Archbishop of Rouen, and the monks of Bec, had not consented to it. Anselm is very careful as to the rights of all these three; he has not a word to say about the rights of the monks of Christ Church. Had he been a subject of the crown of England, a bishop or presbyter of the province of Canterbury, and himself willing to accept the archbishopric, there would clearly have been in his eyes nothing irregular in his accepting it in the form in which it was forced upon him, by the sole choice and sole investiture of the King. Later change in Anselm’s views. He afterwards learned to think otherwise; but it was neither at Canterbury nor at Bec nor at Aosta that he learned such scruples. He had to go beyond English, Norman, and Burgundian ground to look for them. At present he does at every stage, as an ordinary matter of course, something which his later lights would have led him to condemn. Gundulf’s letter to the monks of Bec. But it certainly does seem strange when Bishop Gundulf of Rochester, in a letter to his old companions the monks of Bec, tells them that the King had given the government of the church of Canterbury to their abbot Anselm, by the advice and request of his great men and by the petition and election of the clergy and people.[1131] We have often come across such phrases;[1132] and this case, where we know every detail, may help us to estimate their meaning in some other cases. That Anselm’s appointment had been the general wish of all classes before it was made, that it received the general approval of all classes after it was made, there is no manner of doubt. But there is no sign of any formal advice, petition, or election, by any class of men at any stage. It may be that the ceremony in the church at Gloucester was held to pass for an election by the clergy and people. But that was after the King had, by the delivery of the staff, given to Anselm the government of the church of Canterbury. Sole action of the King. Even in Gundulf’s formula, the advice, petition, and election are mere helps to guide the King’s choice; it is the King who actually bestows the see. And here again, of the rights of the monks of the metropolitan church there is not a word.

Several months passed after this amazing scene at Gloucester before Anselm was fully admitted to the full possession of the archbishopric. He had not yet given any consent himself, and the consents of the Norman Duke, the Norman Archbishop, and the Norman monks, on all of which Anselm laid such stress, were still to be sought for. Anselm tarries with Gundulf. The King sent messengers to all of them, and meanwhile Anselm was, by the King’s order, lodged on some of the archiepiscopal manors under the care of his old friend Bishop Gundulf.[1133] One may suspect that it was the influence of this prelate, a good man plainly, but not very stout-hearted, and more ready than Anselm to adapt himself to the ruling powers, which brought Anselm to the belief that he ought to give way to what he himself calls the choice of all England, and which he now allows to be the will of God. At any rate Anselm brought himself to write letters to the monks of Bec, asking their consent to his resignation of the abbey and acceptance of the archbishopric.[1134] Consent of the Duke, the Archbishop of Rouen, and the monks of Bec. For it was with the monks of Bec that the difficulty lay; Duke Robert and Archbishop William seem to have made no objection.[1135] It was, after much hesitation, and by a narrow majority only that the convent agreed to part with the abbot who had brought such honour upon their house.[1136] In the end all the needful consents were given. Anselm was free from all obligations beyond the sea. But he still had not given his own formal consent to the acceptance of the archbishopric. A long series of acts, temporal and spiritual, were needed to change the simple monk and presbyter, as he was now once more, into an Archbishop of Canterbury, clothed with the full powers and possessions of the Patriarch of all the nations beyond the sea. Those acts needed the consent, some of them needed the personal action, of the King. And King William the Red was now again quite another man from what he had been when he lay on his sick bed at Gloucester.

The King’s recovery. The King’s sickness is said to have lasted during the whole of Lent; but he seems to have been restored to health early enough to hold the Easter Gemót at Winchester.[1137] Anselm was there, in company with his guardian The Easter Gemót. 1093.Bishop Gundulf and his friend Baldwin the monk of Bec; but there is no mention of any business being done between him and the King. Doubtless the needful letters had not yet come from Normandy, even if Anselm had so soon brought himself to write those which were needful on his own part. By this time William was again in full health, and, with his former state of body, his former state of mind had also come back. William falls back into evil ways. He had repented of his repentance; he had fallen back into all his old evil courses with more eagerness than ever. All the wrong that he had done before he fell sick was deemed to be a small matter compared with the wrong which he did after he was restored to health.[1138] It is to this stage of his life that one of the most hideous of his blasphemous sayings is assigned. His renewed blasphemy. Instead of thankfulness for his renewed health, he looked on his sickness as a wrong done to him by his Maker, for which he would in some way have his revenge. It was now that he told Bishop Gundulf, whom we can fancy faintly exhorting him to keep in the good frame of mind which he had put on while he lay on his sick bed—“God shall never see me a good man; I have suffered too much at his hands.”[1139] And his practice was such as became the fool who said that there was no God, or rather the deeper fool who said that there was a God, and yet defied him. He recalls his acts of mercy. He even went on to undo, as far as lay in his power, the good works which he had done during his momentary repentance. Some of the prisoners to whom he had promised deliverance were already set free, and some of those who were set free had taken themselves beyond his reach. But those who were still in safe-keeping were kept in yet harsher bondage than before; and of those who had been set free as many as could be laid hold of were sent back to their prisons. The pardons, the remissions of debts, which had been put forth were recalled. Every man who had been held liable before the King’s sickness was held liable again. His gifts to monasteries were also recalled.[1140] But one thing which William had promised to do he remained as fully minded to do as before. He keeps his purpose as to Anselm. At no stage did he show the slightest purpose of recalling his grant of the archbishopric to Anselm. This distinction is quite in harmony with the general character of William Rufus. The reforms which he had promised, and which he had partly carried out, were part of the ordinary duty of a man in that state of life to which William had been called, the state of a king. As such, they were reckoned by him among those promises which it was beyond his power to fulfil. But his engagement to Anselm was of another kind. To say nothing of Anselm being the old friend of his father, his engagement to him was strictly personal. If it was not exactly done in the character of a good knight, it was done as the act of a man to a man. It was like a safe-conduct; it touched, not so much William’s kingly duty as his personal honour. William’s honour did not keep him back from annoying and insulting Anselm, or from haggling with him about money in a manner worthy of the chivalrous Richard himself. But it did keep him back from any attempt to undo his own personal act and promise. He had prayed Anselm to take the archbishopric; he had forced the staff, as far as might be, into Anselm’s unwilling hand. From that act he would not draw back, though he was quite ready to get any advantage for himself that might be had in the way of carrying it out.

Events of March-December, 1093. But we must not fancy that the affairs of Anselm and of the see to which he had been so strangely called were the only matters which occupied the mind of England during this memorable year. The months which passed between the first nomination of Anselm and his consecration to the archbishopric, that is, the months from March to December, were a busy time in affairs of quite another kind than the appointment of pastors of the Church. The events of those months chiefly concerned the relations of England to the other parts of the island, Welsh and Scottish, and I shall speak of them at length in another chapter. Affairs of England and Wales. Here it is enough to say that the very week of the Easter Gemót was marked by striking events in Wales,[1141] and that during the whole time from March to August, negotiations were going on between William and Malcolm of Scotland. In August Dealings between William and Malcolm. Malcolm came personally to Gloucester, but William refused to see him. Malcolm then went home in wrath, and took his revenge in a fifth and last invasion of England, in the course of which he was killed near Alnwick in the month of November. By that time Anselm was already enthroned, but not yet consecrated. The main telling of the two stories must be kept apart; but it is well always to keep the joint chronology of the two in mind. In reading the Lives of Anselm, where secular affairs are mentioned only casually, we might sometimes forget how stirring a time the year of Anselm’s appointment was in other ways; while the general writers of the time, as I have already noticed,[1142] tell us less about Anselm than we should have looked for. The affairs of Scotland and the affairs of Anselm were going on at the same time; and along with them a third chain of affairs must have begun of which we shall hear much in the next year. Designs of Rufus on Normandy. Rufus was by this time already planning a second attack on his brother in Normandy. Except during the short season of his penitence, he was doubtless ready for such an enterprise at any moment. And this same year, seemingly in the course of its summer, a special tempter came over from beyond sea. Action of William of Eu. This was William of Eu, of whom we have already heard as the King’s enemy and of whom we shall hear again in the same character, but who just now appears as the King’s counsellor. As the owner of vast English estates, he had played a leading part in the first rebellion against William, with the object of uniting England and Normandy under a single prince.[1143] That object he still sought; but he now sought to gain it by other means. He had learned which of the brothers was the more useful master to serve. His divided allegiance. He was now, by the death of his father, Count of Eu, and Eu was among the parts of Normandy which Robert had yielded to William.[1144] For Eu then Count William was the man of King William; but he was still the man of Duke Robert for some other parts of his possessions. He suggests an attack on Normandy. He thought it his interest to serve one lord only; he accordingly threw off his allegiance to Robert, and came over to England to stir up William to take possession of the whole duchy.[1145] And it must surely have been in connexion with these affairs that, at some time between March and September, William and Robert Count of Flanders. William had an interview with Count Robert of Flanders at Dover. By this description we are doubtless to understand the elder Count Robert, the famous Frisian, of whom we have already heard as an enemy to the elder William,[1146] but who must now have been at least on terms of peace with his son. Death of Count Robert. October 4 or 13, 1093. He was drawing near the end of his life, a memorable life, nearly the last act of which had been honourable indeed. He had, several years before the preaching of the crusade, sent a body of the choicest warriors of Flanders to defend Eastern Christendom against the Turk.[1147] Robert died in October of this year, and was succeeded by his Robert of Jerusalem. son Robert of Jerusalem,[1148] a name which the father had an equal right to bear. The younger Robert had been associated by his father in the government of the county; but one may suppose that, when our guide speaks of Robert Count of Flanders, it is the elder Robert who is meant. He was the enemy of the elder William rather in his Norman than in his English character, and his enmity may have passed to his successor in the duchy and not to his successor in the kingdom. Relation between William and the Flemish Counts. One can hardly help thinking that this meeting of William of England and Robert of Flanders had some reference to joint operations designed against Robert of Normandy. But, if so, the alliance was put an end to by the death of Robert the Frisian, and, when the time for his Norman enterprise came, William had to carry it on without Flemish help.

Interview between Anselm and the King at Rochester. By this time Anselm had received the letters from Normandy which were to make him free to accept the archbishopric; but the letters to the King from the same parties had not yet come. At this stage then Anselm wished for an interview with the King, the first—unless they met at Easter at Winchester—since they had parted in the sick room at Gloucester. William was on his way back from his meeting with the Count of Flanders at Dover; he came to Rochester, where Anselm was then staying with Bishop Gundulf. There Anselm took the King aside, and laid the case before him as it then stood.

Anselm’s position. Anselm was at this moment, in his own view, a private man. He was no longer Abbot of Bec. His monks had released him from that office, and he had formally resigned it by sending back to them the pastoral staff.[1149]

He was not yet Archbishop of Canterbury; he was not yet, in his own view, even Archbishop-elect; all that had been done at Gloucester he counted for null and void. But he was now free to accept the archbishopric, and, though he still did not wish for the post, he had got over the scruples which had before led him to refuse it. In such a case he deemed it his duty to be perfectly frank with the King, and to tell him on what terms only he would accept the primacy, if the King still persisted in offering it to him.

His conditions with the King. The conditions which Anselm now laid before William Rufus were three. The first of them had to do with the temporal estates of the archbishopric. I have elsewhere spoken of the light in which we ought to look at demands of this kind.[1150] Restoration of the estates of the see. We may be sure that Anselm would gladly have purchased the peace of the land, the friendship of the King, or anything that would profit the souls or bodies of other men, at the cost of any temporal possessions which were strictly his own to give up. But, if he became Archbishop of Canterbury, he would become a steward of the church of Canterbury, a trustee for his successors, the guardian of gifts which had been given to God, His saints, and His Church. In any of these characters, it would be a sin against his own soul and the souls of others, if he willingly allowed anything which had ever been given to his church to be taken from her or detained from her. If the King chose to keep the see vacant and to turn its revenues to his own use, that would be his sin and not Anselm’s; but Anselm would be a sharer in the sin, if he accepted the see without requiring full restitution of everything to which the see had a lawful claim. In the private conference at Rochester, he therefore demanded, as a condition of his accepting the see, that he should receive all that Lanfranc had held, without delay or dispute or process in any court. As for lands to which his church had an ancient claim, but which Lanfranc had been unable to win back, for those he demanded that the King should do him justice in his court.[1151] The second demand touched the ancient relations between the crown and the archbishopric. The sheep, about to be yoked with the wild bull, sought to make terms with his fierce comrade. He demands to be the King’s spiritual guide. Anselm demanded that, in all matters which touched God and Christianity, the King should take him as his counsellor before all other men; as he acknowledged in the King his earthly lord, so let the King acknowledge in him his ghostly father and the special guardian of his soul.[1152]

Acknowledgement of Popes. To these two requests Anselm added a third, one which touched a point on which the Red King seems to have been specially sensitive. It had been the rule of his father’s reign that no Pope should be acknowledged in England without his consent.[1153] William Rufus seems to have construed this rule in the same way in which he construed some others. From his right to nominate to bishoprics and abbeys he had inferred a right not to nominate to them; so, from his right to judge between contending popes, he inferred the right to do without acknowledging any pope at all. And, if the King acted in this way for his own ends, the country at large seems to have shown a remarkable indifference to the whole controversy. To Englishmen and to men settled in England it was clearly a much greater grievance to be kept without an Archbishop of Canterbury than it was to be left uncertain who was the lawful pope. Schism in the papacy. Victor the Third. 1086–1087. Urban the Second. 1088–1099. Urban and Clement. At this moment the Western Church was divided between the claims of Wibert or Clement, the Imperial anti-pope of the days of Hildebrand, and those of Urban, formerly Odo of Ostia, who, after the short reign of Victor, stepped into Hildebrand’s place. In the eyes of strict churchmen Urban was the true Vicar of Christ, and Wibert was a wicked intruder and schismatic. Yet it will be remembered that Lanfranc himself had, when the dispute lay between Wibert and Hildebrand, spoken with singular calmness and caution of a question which to more zealous minds seemed a matter of spiritual life and death.[1154] Our own Chronicler seems to have measured popes, as well as English feeling on the subject. kings and bishops, by the standard of possession; he found it hard to conceive a pope that “nothing had of the settle at Rome.”[1155] Even Anselm’s own biographer speaks very quietly on the point. Two rival candidates claimed the popedom; but which was the one rightly chosen no one in England, we are told, knew—or seemingly cared.[1156] Another of our guides describes Urban and Clement as alike men of personal merit, and looks on the controversy as one in which there was much to be said on both sides. The chief argument for Urban was that his supporters seemed to increase in number; otherwise no one really knew on which side the divine right was. In England opinion was divided; but fear of the King—so we are told—made it lean on the whole to Clement.[1157] Earlier in the reign we have heard Bishop William of Durham talk a great deal about going to the Pope; but he had taken care not to say to which pope he meant to go, and in the end he had not gone to either.[1158] Anselm requires to be allowed to acknowledge Urban. With Anselm the matter was more serious. Urban was his pope. All the churches of Gaul had acknowledged him; Bec and the other churches of Normandy had acknowledged him along with the rest.[1159] From the obedience which he had thus plighted he could not fall back. He told the King that, though he, King William, had not acknowledged Urban, yet he, Anselm, must continue to acknowledge him and to yield him such obedience as was his due.[1160] To be allowed freely to do so must be one of the conditions of his accepting the archbishopric.

The King’s answer was unsatisfactory, but not openly hostile. The King’s counsellors; Count Robert and Bishop William. He was however beginning to be on his guard; he called to his side the two subtlest advisers that the Church and realm of England could supply. The one was Count Robert of Meulan, at home alike in England, Normandy, and France. The other was William Bishop of Durham, once the strong assertor of ecclesiastical claims, who had appealed to the Pope against the judgement of the King and his Witan. He had indeed both learned and forgotten something in his exile. The Bishop’s new policy. He had come back to be the special counsellor of Rufus, the special enemy of Anselm, the special assertor of the doctrine that it was for the King alone to judge as to the acknowledgement of Popes. The King, having listened to Anselm, sent for these two chosen advisers. He bade Anselm say over again in their hearing what he had before said privately. The King’s answer. He then, by their advice, answered that he would restore to the see everything that had been held by Lanfranc; on other points he would not as yet make any positive engagement.[1161]

The letters come from Normandy. Up to this time the King had not yet received his expected letters from Normandy. They presently came, and Rufus evidently thought that some step on his part ought to follow. He had asked the Duke, the Archbishop, and the monks of Bec, to set Anselm free to accept the archbishopric. They had done so at his request. Unless then he wished to make fools of himself and of everybody else, he could not help again offering the see to the man whom he had himself chosen, and who was now free to take it. He sent for Anselm to Windsor, where he now was; The King prays Anselm to take the archbishopric. he prayed him no longer to refuse the choice of the whole realm;[1162] but in so doing, he fell back somewhat from the one distinct promise which he had made at Rochester. When the estates of the see came into his hands on the death of Lanfranc, he had granted out parts of them on tenure of knight-service. He asks for the confirmation of grants made by him during the vacancy. These grants he asked Anselm, as a matter of friendship to himself, to allow.[1163] Was William merely seeking an excuse for backing altogether out of his offer of the archbishopric, or did he feel himself bound in honour to the men to whom he had made the grants? If so, his scruple of honour was met by Anselm’s scruple of conscience. Anselm refuses. Anselm would not be a party to any alienation of the goods of the Church; above all, he would not make any agreement about such matters before he was invested with any part of them.[1164] The point clearly is that so to do would be more than wasting the estates of the Church; it would be obtaining the archbishopric by a corrupt bargain. To agree to give up the estates of the see to the King’s grantees would be the same thing as obtaining the see by a bribe to the King. Anselm therefore refused to consent to the grants which the King had made during the vacancy. The whole matter thus came to a standstill. Rufus refused the investiture unless his grants were to stand good. Anselm went away rejoicing.

The whole case was set forth at length by Anselm in a letter to his friend Hugh Archbishop of Lyons, the head prelate of his native Burgundy.[1165] Anselm’s statement of the case. The alienation to which Anselm was asked to consent was called by the King a “voluntary justice,” a phrase which has a technical sound, but the meaning of which is not very clear.[1166] The King’s argument was that, before the Normans invaded England, the lands in question had been held of the archbishopric by English thegns, that those thegns had died without heirs, and that it was open to the King to give them what heirs he would.[1167] It was certainly strange, if, on the one hand, not one of these thegns had been constrained to make way for a Norman successor, and if, on the other hand, not one of them had left a son to succeed him. But we must take the fact as it is stated. Nature of the King’s grants. Rufus seems to mean that, during Lanfranc’s incumbency, the lands which these thegns had held of the see had fallen back to the lord for lack of heirs, and had become demesne lands of the archbishopric. The King asserts his right, during the vacancy of the see, to grant out such lands by knight-service, service to be paid of course to the King as long as the vacancy lasted, but seemingly to the Archbishop, as soon as there should be an archbishop in possession. If this was the argument, an argument which savours of the subtlety of Flambard, there is, from Flambard’s point of view, a good deal that is plausible about it. The King’s case. The King, as temporary lord, claims to deal with the land as any other lord might do, and, when his temporary lordship comes to an end, he calls on the incoming lord to respect his acts. The legal question would seem to be whether the new doctrine which gave the King the temporary profits of the archbishopric gave him any right to turn its demesne lands into fiefs. Anselm’s argument. Anselm’s argument seems to be that anyhow the possessions of the archbishopric were practically lessened, as they undoubtedly were. Experience showed that such a lordship as the see would keep over the lands so granted out would be both hard to enforce and of little value if enforced.[1168] Practically the grants were an alienation of the lands of the see. And to this Anselm could not consent. Open robbery from some quarter which owed no special duty to the archbishopric he might bear, and in such a case there would be more hope of gaining back what was lost by the help of the law.[1169] But for the King, the advocate of the see, and for himself, its guardian, to come to an agreement whereby the see would be damaged, was a thing to which Anselm would never consent.[1170] The King’s advocatio of the archbishopric. In this argument we hear the word advocate, the equivalent of the modern patron, in its elder sense. The advocatio, the advowson, of an ecclesiastical benefice carries with it, not only the right to name the incumbent of that benefice, but also the duty of acting as its protector.[1171] For the King, the advocate of the see of Canterbury, to do anything against its rights was a greater crime than if another man did the same. For the Archbishop to betray the rights of his church and his successors was a greater crime still. And if King and Archbishop agreed to any such spoliation, all other men would naturally hold that the act could not be questioned. On these grounds Anselm refused to consent to the King’s grants. He left the royal presence trusting that he was now free from the burthen of ecclesiastical rule in any shape. He had been set free from the abbatial rule of Bec; he had escaped being loaded with the primatial rule of Canterbury. He was, as he wished to be, a private man.[1172]

Public feeling since the nomination at Gloucester. But a private man Anselm was not to remain. After the scene in the sick room at Gloucester, neither William nor Anselm could act exactly as if that scene had never taken place. The momentary repentance of the King, and the acts done during the time of that repentance, had given a strength to public opinion which even William Rufus could not despise. The old abuses, the old oppressions, began again; but men were now less disposed to put up with them than they had been before. They would no longer go on without an archbishop, after an archbishop, and Anselm as that archbishop, had been more than promised, after he had been given to them. The general murmur became so loud that the King had to give way.[1173] He could no longer help giving the archbishopric to Anselm, and that on Anselm’s own terms. And what he did, he did in the most solemn and, as far as outward appearances went, the most thorough manner. Gemót at Winchester. An extraordinary Gemót of the kingdom—for the season was neither Christmas, Easter, nor Pentecost—was summoned to Winchester. The King renews his promises. In the presence of the assembled Witan, William Rufus, in full health, renewed the promises which he had made in his sickness. The wrongs done in his kingdom, above all, the wrongs done to the Church, were a second time to come to an end.[1174] Anselm receives the archbishopric, and does homage. Anselm was exhorted, and at last persuaded, to accept the archbishopric. He received it, seemingly without scruple, according to the ancient use of England; he became the man of the King.[1175] Anselm kneeling before Rufus, with his pure hands between the polluted hands of the King, pledging himself as the King’s man for all earthly worship, makes a scene which it is strange to think of.[1176] The deed was now done, and it could not be recalled. Bishop in the spiritual sense Anselm was not as yet; but he was the legal possessor of all the temporal estates and temporal jurisdiction of the see of Canterbury.

The King’s writ. The act which had just been done had now to be announced to the whole nation in the ancient form. The writ of King William went forth, announcing to all the King’s faithful men, French and English, that he had granted to Anselm the archbishopric of Canterbury, with all the rights, powers, and possessions—rights, powers, and possessions, recited in the English tongue—which belonged to the see, with all liberties over all his men, within boroughs and without. And words were added which seemed meant expressly to enforce Anselm’s view of the point last in dispute. The Archbishop’s thegns. The new archbishop was to have all these liberties over as many thegns as King Eadward the King’s kinsman had granted to the see of Christ Church. This can hardly mean anything except the annulling of the grants which the King had made during the vacancy.[1177] Anselm was to have all such temporal rights as had been lawfully held by Lanfranc, as had been before him unlawfully held by Stigand. Clauses in favour of the monks. The writ further contains provisions on behalf of the metropolitan monastery. The estates of the convent were distinct from those of the see; still, in such a time of unlaw, it is likely that some excuse had been found to do them some wrong also. To the monks of Christ Church therefore the King confirms all their rights and possessions, with all the tolls and dues from the haven of Sandwich; no man, French or English, should meddle with them or their servants.[1178] The city of Canterbury and abbey of Saint Alban’s. Our Canterbury guide speaks also of a renewed grant, on more favourable terms than before, of the city of Canterbury and of the abbey of Saint Alban’s.[1179] These possessions were at least not granted by the writ which announces the grant of the archbishopric. Anselm and Saint Alban’s. Of one of them the local patriotism of Saint Alban’s naturally knew nothing, though we hear of the friendship which Anselm showed to the house and to its abbot Paul. Death of Abbot Paul. 1093. This friendship could hardly have been shown in the character of archbishop, as Paul died during the year of Anselm’s appointment.[1180] And it is not wonderful that Anselm’s friendship for the abbey did not avail to save it from the usual fate. Vacancy of the abbey. For four years after the death of Paul, the church of Saint Alban remained without an abbot, while the King held the lands of the abbey, cut down its woods, and found many ingenious excuses, such as Flambard knew how to devise, for wringing money out of its tenants.[1181]

It would seem that, of the three points which had been insisted on by Anselm at Rochester, two were left out of sight in the public assembly at Winchester no less than in the private conference at Windsor. The question about the grants of the archiepiscopal lands was settled, at least in name and for the time, in favour of Anselm; The question as to the Pope left unsettled. but nothing was said either about William’s obligation to take Anselm as his spiritual guide or about the acknowledgement of Urban as Pope. The former of these two was in truth a matter for the King’s private conscience; it was hardly a matter to be discussed and legislated about in an assembly of the kingdom. And even the matter of the Pope did not touch Anselm’s conscience in exactly the same way as the question of the grants. If Anselm had allowed the grants, it would have been, in his view, an alienation of the rights of his see, and therefore a personal crime. But he might, without in any way giving up his position, receive the investiture No reference to the Pope in English episcopal appointments. without saying anything about the papal question at all. It was not yet held that the Bishop of Rome was entitled to any voice as to the election, investiture, or consecration, of any English bishop. In the case of a diocesan bishop, there was no need for any reference to the Pope at any stage; in the case of a metropolitan, the pallium had to be asked for; but it was not asked for till after consecration. Anselm had given fair warning to the King that he meant to acknowledge Urban. But at no stage of the business which had yet been reached was there any need for any formal acknowledgement of any Pope. Anselm might therefore fairly hold that his first warning was enough, and that he was not called upon to raise the question again, till the time came when it would be his duty to seek for the pallium from one Pope or the other. When that time came, he would be ready to do or suffer as the circumstances of that yet future day might dictate.

Order of episcopal appointments. Before the time for any dealings with Rome should come, there were still two more ceremonies to be done in England. The process of making a bishop was, then as now, a long one; but the order of the several stages was different then from what it now is. Anselm had done homage and had received restitution of the temporalities; but he was not yet enthroned, still less consecrated. The order then was, homage, enthronement, consecration. Opposite present practice. The present order is the exact opposite. The bishop-elect is consecrated; then he takes corporal possession of the see by enthronement; last of all, he does homage to the King and receives restitution of the temporalities. In the elder state of things the spiritual office was bestowed on one who was already full bishop for all temporal purposes. By the later rule the temporal rights are bestowed on one who is already full bishop for all spiritual purposes. Theories of the two systems. The difference in order seems to arise from the different theory of the episcopate which has prevailed since the restoration of ecclesiastical elections was fully established by the Great Charter. In the irregular practice of the eleventh century, the notion of investiture of a benefice by the king had come to the front. The king had in his hands a great fief, which he granted to whom he would; that fief was chargeable with certain spiritual duties. It was therefore for the Church, by her spiritual rite of consecration, to make the king’s nominee, already invested with his temporal rights, capable of discharging his spiritual duties. Such was clearly the established view of the days of Rufus, and the order of the process is in harmony with it. The office is treated as an appendage to the benefice. In the theory which is both earlier and later the benefice is treated as an appendage to the office. Present process. The order of the process is therefore reversed. The spiritual office is first filled by the three ecclesiastical processes of election, confirmation, consecration—the last of course being needless when the person chosen is already a bishop. The bishop then takes personal possession of his church by installation or enthronement. The spiritual functions over, the bishop, now in full possession of his office, lastly receives the attached benefice by homage to the king and restitution of the temporalities at his hands. That elections were hardly ever really free at any time, that the royal leave was needed for the election, that kings recommended, that popes “provided,” that the later law requires the electors to choose only the king’s nominee and requires the metropolitan to confirm the person so chosen, makes no difference to the theory. The royal power is kept in the background; it is the ecclesiastical power which formally acts. The king’s hand pulls the wires of the ecclesiastical puppets; but the ecclesiastical puppets play their formal part. The whole is done according to a theory which naturally places the formal act of the temporal power last. In the days of Rufus the whole was done according to another theory which, as naturally, placed the formal act of the temporal power first of all.

The next stage then was for Anselm, still only a presbyter, but already invested with all the temporal powers and possessions of the archbishopric, to take personal possession of his see in the metropolitan church. It was the only time that such a rite was performed in the short eastern limb of the new church of Lanfranc. Anselm’s own later days were to see the removal of the patriarchal throne of Britain to be the centre of the more stately apse of Conrad, as later days saw it again removed to be the centre of the yet more stately apse of the two Williams. Enthronement of Anselm. September 25, 1093. On that throne, Anselm, chosen to be Pope of the island Empire, was placed on one of the later days of September in the presence of a rejoicing crowd of monks, clergy, and lay folk. Well might they rejoice; the Church had again a shepherd; the nation had again a defender. But even that day of joy did not pass without signs that the favour of the temporal lord of the island Empire was already turned away from its new pontiff. The King’s sense of personal honour required him to carry out the promise made at Gloucester, to allow, even to compel, Anselm to become archbishop. But he had no sense of Christian or kingly duty to keep him from insulting and harassing the man whom he had promoted, or to constrain him to keep the promises contained in his own proclamation. Those things had not been done in the character of probus miles, of knight and gentleman. It was quite consistent with chivalrous honour to send Flambard to disturb the joyful day of enthronement Flambard brings a suit against Anselm on the day of enthronement. by the announcement of a hostile suit against the new archbishop. We are not told what was its exact nature, only that it was something which, in the eyes of strict churchmen at least, wholly concerned the affairs of the Church, and with which the King’s court had nothing to do.[1182] In the older days of England such a distinction could hardly have been drawn; after the separation of the jurisdictions under the Conqueror, it may have been fair enough. Whatever the actual matter in dispute was, we can understand the general indignation at the choice of such a moment for the serving of the notice, at the malice which would not let even the first day of the Primate’s new dignity pass unmolested. We can also easily picture to ourselves the fierce swagger of Flambard, graphically as it is set before us.[1183] And we can listen also to the mild grief of Anselm, inferring from such treatment on the first day of his primacy what the troubles of his future life were likely to be.[1184]

Other events of the year. After the enthronement more than two months still passed before the final rite of consecration admitted Anselm to the fulness of his spiritual office. They were months of no small moment in the history of Britain. They beheld the last invasion of Malcolm, his death,[1185] the death of his saintly wife, the uprising of Scottish nationality against the foreign innovations or reforms which Malcolm and Margaret represented in the eyes of their native subjects. The affairs of Scotland, of Consecration of Anselm at Canterbury. December 4, 1093.Wales, of Normandy, were all on the Red King’s mind at the same moment, as well as the affairs of Anselm. But it is these last that we have to follow for the present. Early in December, on the second Sunday in Advent, the more part of the bishops of England came together at Canterbury for the consecration of the new metropolitan. At their head was the Archbishop of York, Thomas of Bayeux. Thomas of York. It was the privilege of his see—so the loyal historian of the church of York takes care that we should know—when Canterbury was without an archbishop, to consecrate bishops and to put the crown on the king’s head within the vacant province.[1186] Whether the one available suffragan of the northern province came along with Thomas, in the form of William of Durham, we are not distinctly told. Other bishops present. But of the bishops of the province of Canterbury eight must have been there. Robert Bloet was the elect of Lincoln; but he, like Anselm, was himself awaiting consecration. Of the rest three were absent, and among those three were the only two Absence of Herbert, who were English either by birth or by adoption, the two whom we could have most wished to have a share in the work. Herbert of Thetford must now have been on his penitential journey to Rome or on his way back.[1187] The holy Wulfstan, the one Englishman by descent Wulfstan, as well as by birth who was left among the bishops of England, the only one who had been a bishop in the old days of King Eadward, was still in the land, but was kept away by age or sickness. So was and Osbern. Osbern of Exeter, the only one of the foreign stock who had thoroughly made himself an Englishman by adoption. These two sent letters of consent instead of their personal presence.[1188] The others gathered round the high altar of Lanfranc’s rearing at Christ Church. Most of them are men with whose names we are familiar; Maurice of London, Walkelin of Winchester, Gundulf of Rochester, Osmund of Salisbury, Robert of Hereford, John who had moved from Wells to Bath, Robert of Lichfield or of Chester, who had moved in a fiercer sort to Earl Leofric’s Coventry. All of them, whatever they were in other ways, were mighty builders. If William of Durham, whose church had just begun to rise on the height above the Wear,[1189] was really in their company, there was indeed the master-builder of all, whose heart might already swell to think how the work which he had begun would surpass the work of Lanfranc under whose roof they were met. These eight came together in the new metropolitan church to perform the rite which should make Anselm at once their brother and their father.

But, before the rite could be gone through, an old question was stirred again, by no means for the last time. The leader of the episcopal band was fully minded that the rank to which they were about to admit the prelate elect should be clearly defined. Position of Thomas. Thomas of York had doubtless not forgotten the day when he had himself gone away unconsecrated from the spot where they were now met, because he could not bring himself to make such a submission to the higher dignity of Canterbury as Anselm’s predecessor had required of him.[1190] He now had his opportunity of raising his voice with greater success on behalf of the dignity of his own church. Before the consecrating prelates went on to the examination of the bishop-elect, it was the business of the Bishop of London to read the formal document declaring the cause why they had come together.[1191] Bishop Maurice handed over this duty to the Bishop of Winchester. Walkelin began to read how the church of Canterbury, the metropolitan church of all Britain, was widowed of its pastor. Thomas objects to the description of Anselm as “Metropolitan of Britain.” The Archbishop of York stopped him; “Metropolitan church of all Britain? Then the church of York, which all men know to be a metropolitan church, is not metropolitan. We all know that the church of Canterbury is the primatial church of all Britain; metropolitan church of all Britain it is not.”[1192] This was not a distinction without a difference. To allow the claim of Canterbury to be the metropolitan church of all Britain would have been to admit that the church of York was a mere suffragan see of Canterbury. The other form simply asserted the precedency of Canterbury as the higher in rank of the two metropolitan sees of Britain. So Anselm’s correspondent at Lyons was Primate of all the Gauls, without endangering the metropolitan rank of Rheims and Rouen. But William the Good Soul would have been stirred to wrath had it been hinted that Lyons was the metropolitan church of all Gaul, and Rouen simply its suffragan. A zealot for His objection admitted. the rights of Canterbury admits that the objection of Thomas was a good one.[1193] The wording of the document was at once changed;[1194] Anselm’s consecration. the rite went on, and Anselm was consecrated as Archbishop of Canterbury and Primate of all Britain. If the more northern suffragans of York had any objections to make, they were just then less likely than ever to be at Canterbury to make them.

The position of the newly-consecrated Primate within his own island was thus settled to the satisfaction of the man who thought that he had a special interest in the matter. Question of acknowledging the Pope. It was perhaps more difficult to settle his relation to the ecclesiastical powers beyond his own island. Anselm had warned the King that, if he became archbishop, he must yield obedience to Urban. But, as the King had not acknowledged Urban, it would have been deemed unlawful to speak of Urban as Pope in any public act. The difficulty seems to have been got over by Anselm making a profession of obedience to the Roman Church, without mentioning the name of any particular pontiff.[1195] Thus passed the day of the consecration; Thomas claims jurisdiction over Lincoln. but, on the morrow, Thomas of York, successful thus far, found yet another point to assert on behalf of the alleged rights of his church. He had, it will be remembered, striven to hinder Remigius from transferring the see of Dorchester to a spot which he deemed to be in his own province and diocese.[1196] Since that time, notwithstanding his remonstrances, the minster of Lincoln had arisen; but it remained unconsecrated, and its builder was dead. To the mind of Thomas these facts perhaps seemed to be signs as clear in their meaning as any which the Bishop of Hereford would find out from the lore of the stars.[1197] Thus emboldened, on the day after he had consecrated Anselm to the see of Canterbury, Thomas warned the new Primate against proceeding, as he had purposed, to consecrate Robert Bloet to the see of Lincoln. He might consecrate him, if he would, to the ancient see of Dorchester; but not to Lincoln or to any other place in that land of Lindesey which belonged to the jurisdiction of York.[1198] Robert Bloet’s consecration delayed. Anselm seems to have yielded; at least the matter remained unsettled, and the elect of Lincoln remained unconsecrated for two months longer.

Anselm now, after so many difficulties, was at last fully Archbishop. He remained in his metropolis for eight days only after his consecration. Christmas Gemót at Gloucester. 1093–1094. He then set forth for the Christmas Assembly of the realm, to be held at Gloucester.[1199] The prayer which he had drawn up at the assembly held there twelve months before had indeed been answered. The King’s heart had been stirred; the Archbishop had been appointed. Unhappily also the King’s heart had been stirred back again. William was again the king who had mockingly bidden his bishops to pray as they thought good, not the king who had passionately called on Anselm to step in between him and eternal death. The breach between King and Primate had begun before Anselm was fully Primate, when Flambard had insolently summoned him in his own church on the day of his enthronement. Whatever the matter of the summons was, Anselm was now ready in the King’s court to answer it. But of that dispute we hear no more. The Archbishop came to Gloucester, and was courteously and cheerfully received, Anselm received by the King. not only by the assembled nobles, but by the King himself.[1200] But the Witan were not to depart from the place of meeting till new grounds of quarrel had arisen between the two unequal yokefellows who were at last fully coupled together.

§ 3. The Assembly at Hastings and the Second Norman Campaign.
1094.

Events of the year 1094.The events of the year on which we have now entered consist partly of warlike movements in Normandy and Scotland, partly of matters directly touching ecclesiastical questions, above all touching Anselm. Of these, the affairs of Scotland and the affairs of Anselm have hardly any bearing on one another. Affairs of Normandy; their connexion with Anselm. But the affairs of Normandy and the affairs of Anselm have a close connexion. They were discussed in the same assemblies; and one ground of quarrel between King and Primate arose directly out of the discussion of Norman affairs. Some of the details of the two stories are so mixed up with one another that it would be hard to keep them apart. Again, the Scottish warfare of this year is part of a continuous series of Scottish events spread over several years. But the Norman warfare is a kind of episode. It is connected by the laws of cause and effect with things which went before and with things which came after; but, as a story, it stands by itself or is mixed up with the story of Anselm. It cannot be dealt with, like the King’s first Norman war, as a distinct chapter of our history. It will therefore be better, during the year which follows the consecration of Anselm, to keep Scottish affairs apart from the history of the ecclesiastical dispute, but to treat the Norman campaign as something filling up part of the time between two great stages in Anselm’s history.

Robert’s challenge of William. 1093–1094. The chief business of the assembly which now met at Gloucester was the reception of a hostile message from the Duke of the Normans. This fact makes us wish to know more in detail what Count William of Eu had suggested, and what King William of England had done. It is certain that King William needed no pressing to make him inclined for another attempt on his brother’s dominions; but it is clear that the coming of Count William had led to some special action which had given Duke Robert special ground of complaint. The Norman embassy came, and challenged one brother in the name of the other, almost as an earlier Norman embassy had challenged Harold in the name of the father of both of them.[1201] Form of the message. The diplomacy of those days was clear and outspoken. The bodes of Duke Robert seem to have spoken to King William in the midst of his Witan, much as the bodes of the Athenian commonwealth spoke, with a greater amount of personal deference, to King Philip on his throne. They told the King of the English that their master renounced all peace and treaty with him, unless he would do all that was set down in the treaty; they declared him forsworn and truthless, unless he would hold to the treaty, or would go and clear himself at the place where the treaty had been made and sworn to.[1202] Such a message as this was hardly wise in Robert, whatever it might have been in a prince who had the resources of his dominions more thoroughly at his command. It was in some sort an appeal to arbitration; but it was put in a shape which was sure to bring on war. War decreed. William had no doubt made up his mind for a Norman enterprise in any case; the message of Robert would really help him by turning a certain amount of public feeling to his side. An expedition was decreed; Normandy was to be a second time invaded by the Red King.

And now came the question how ways and means were to be found for the new war. That some of the ways and means which were employed were unworthy of all kingly dignity[1203] is not wonderful in this reign. But the only one of which we distinctly hear seems in itself less unworthy than some others, though the particular form which it took is eminently characteristic of Rufus. The great men who had come together to the assembly made presents to the King, forerunners of the benevolences of later times. Contributions collected for the war. The great men of Normandy had, twenty-eight years before, made contributions of ships for the invasion of England.[1204] Now the great men of England, some of them the same persons, made contributions of money for the invasion of Normandy. This was at least less unworthy of the kingly dignity than some of the tricks by which Flambard wrung money out of more helpless victims. But the Red King’s way of dealing with such gifts shows the mixture of greed and pride which stands out in all his doings. If the sum offered was less than he thought it ought to be, he cast it aside with scorn; nor would he ever again admit the offerer to his friendship, unless he made amends by a second offer of such a sum as the King might think becoming.[1205] Anselm unwilling to contribute. To this custom Anselm now conformed, with the other nobles and prelates; but it was with some pains that his friends persuaded him to conform to it.[1206] With his usual fear of being misconstrued, he dreaded that if, so soon after his consecration, he gave the King any sum which the King would think worth taking, it might have the air of a simoniacal bargain.[1207] He might also hold that the goods of the Church ought not to be applied to worldly, least of all to warlike, uses; he might even feel some scruple in helping towards a war against a prince who had so lately been his own worldly lord. But he was won over by the argument that a gift in season might win the King’s favour for ever, and that he might be allowed to give his mind with less disturbance to the spiritual duties of his office.[1208] He gives five hundred pounds. He brought himself therefore to offer the King five hundred pounds of silver. William was satisfied with the amount, and received the gift with courteous thanks.[1209]

William persuaded to refuse the money. What followed showed that William Rufus had counsellors about him who were worse than himself, or who at any rate were not ashamed to play upon the worst parts of his character to obtain their own ends. In this case they are nameless. Are we to fill up the blank with the names of the Bishop of Durham and the Count of Meulan? Or is it safer to lay any evil deed the doer of which is not recorded on the broad back of Randolf Flambard? At any rate, some malignant persons, whoever they were, came about the King, and persuaded him that the gift of the Archbishop was a contemptible sum which he ought to reject. One whom he had exalted and enriched above the other great men of England ought, in such need as that in which the King found himself, to have given him two thousand pounds, or one thousand at the very least. To offer so little as five hundred was mere mockery. Let the King wait a little, let him change his face towards the Archbishop, and Anselm would presently come, delighted to win back the King’s favour with the gift of five hundred pounds more.[1210] Thus the Primate’s enemies, whoever they were, sought to frighten him, and to get more money out of him for the King’s use. But their schemes were disappointed.[1211] Anselm was presently surprised by a message to say that the King refused his gift—the gift which he had already cheerfully accepted.[1212] Anselm prays Rufus to take the money. He then sought an audience, and asked the King whether such a message was really of his sending. Some tyrants might have seen in this question an escape from a difficulty. It would have been easy for Rufus to have denied his own act; but his pride was up, and direct lying was never in his vein. He avowed his message. Then Anselm prayed him not to refuse his gift; it was the first that he had offered; it should not be the last. It would be better for the King to receive a smaller sum from him as a friend, than to wring a larger sum from him as a slave.[1213] Of the alternative of increasing the amount of the gift he said not a word. One motive was that he could not raise a greater sum without doing wrong to his tenants—the wrong which he had declared Ælfheah to be a true martyr for refusing to do.[1214] Rufus refuses it.The King was now in the mood for short and wrathful speeches. “Keep your money and your jaw to yourself; I have enough of my own. Get you gone.”[1215] Anselm obeyed, remembering that at his enthronement the Gospel had been read which said that no man could serve two masters. He rejoiced that no one now could deem that he had been guilty of any corrupt bargain with the King. Yet he tried once more through messengers to persuade the King to take his gift, but, as he steadily refused to double it, it was still thrust aside with scorn. The assembly broke up; the Archbishop, still in the King’s disfavour, went away, and the money which the King had despised was given to the poor.

This business over, Anselm had now a few weeks, but a few weeks only, to give to his immediate pastoral work. Even those weeks were disturbed by a dispute with one of his suffragans. Dispute with the Bishop of London. The point at issue was the right of the Archbishop to consecrate churches and do other episcopal acts in such of his manors as were locally in other dioceses. This right was denied by Bishop Maurice of London, who sent two of his canons to forbid the Archbishop to consecrate the newly built church of Harrow.[1216] The matter was settled by an appeal to one who knew the ancient laws of England better than either Maurice or Anselm. Judgement of Wulfstan. Wulfstan of Worcester, now “one and alone of the ancient fathers of the English,” wrote back his judgement in favour of the Primate’s right.[1217] The question was thus decided; Maurice did not dare to set up his judgement on such a matter against that of the venerable saint, the relic of a state of things which had passed away.[1218]

Those of the great men of England who had come to the Gemót at Gloucester from the more distant parts of the kingdom could hardly have reached their homes when they were again summoned to give the King the benefit of their counsels. William Rufus was so strong upon his throne that in his days assemblies were sure to be frequent. He was moreover planning a campaign beyond the sea, so that it was very doubtful whether he would be able this year to wear his crown in England at the usual times of Easter and Pentecost. Assembly at Hastings. February 2, 1094. The Easter Gemót was therefore in some sort forestalled. As the starting-point for his second invasion of Normandy the King had chosen the spot which had been his father’s head-quarters in the great invasion of England. At Pevensey he had once beaten back the invasion of his Norman brother; at Hastings he now gathered the force which was for the second time to avenge that wrong. The chief men of England were again brought together. We may perhaps see in this assembly a case of the military Gemót. Anselm and several other bishops were there; but it is said that their presence was required to give their blessing to the King and his army before they crossed the sea.[1219] The fleet delayed by the wind. But that final blessing could not be given till many weeks after the army or assembly first came together. When the younger William sought to invade Normandy, he was kept lingering at Hastings, as the elder William had been kept lingering at Saint Valery when he sought to invade England. For six weeks the north wind refused to blow. While thus kept back from warfare, the King seems to have amused himself with ecclesiastical business and ecclesiastical ceremonies, and he further brought on himself the sharpest of ecclesiastical rebukes.[1220]

But one of the ceremonies which filled up the time of enforced leisure must have been something more than a matter of amusement to William the Red. Whatever traces of good feeling lingered in his heart gathered round the memory of his parents. And he was now called on to join in a rite which was the crowning homage to his father’s name, the most speaking memorial of his father’s victory and his father’s bounty. Again was a William encamped at Hastings called on to make his way to the hill of Senlac. But this time he could make his way thither in peaceful guise. The The Abbey of Battle. place was no longer a wilderness or a camp, no longer the hill of the hoar apple-tree, no longer bristling with the thickset lines of battle, no longer heaped with the corpses of the conquerors and the conquered. The height which had once been fenced in by the palisade of the English host was now fenced in by the precinct wall of a vast monastery; its buildings, overhanging the hill side, covered the spot where Gyrth had fallen by the hand of William;[1221] its church, fresh from the hands of the craftsman, covered the ground which had beheld the last act of the day of slaughter; its high altar, blazing doubtless with all the skill of Otto and Theodoric,[1222] marked the spot where Harold, struck by the bolt from heaven, had fallen between the Dragon and the Standard. Completion of the building. After so many years had passed since the Conqueror had bidden that the memorial of the Conquest should rise on that spot and on no other, the minster of Saint Martin of the Place of Battle stood ready for consecration. Moved by the prayer of Abbot Gausbert, prompted too by his own reverence for the memory and the bidding of his father, William the younger bade that his father’s church should at once be hallowed in his own presence.[1223] Consecration of the church. February 11, 1094. On a Saturday then in the month of February, in the twenty-eighth year since the awful Saturday of Saint Calixtus, the two who were so unequally yoked together to draw the plough of the Church of England made their way to the place of Battle. A crowd of nobles and commons came together to the sight; and with them, besides the Primate, were seven Bishops present; Ralph of Coutances. bishops of three different provinces. There was Ralph of Chichester, bishop of the diocese, whose jurisdiction within the favoured abbey was so zealously denied by every monk of Battle.[1224] There were Walkelin of Winchester, Osmund of Salisbury, John of Bath, and Gundulf of Rochester. There was the Primate’s great northern enemy, William of Durham. And there too was a suffragan of Rouen, the immediate successor of one of the fierce prelates who had blessed the Conqueror’s host on the morning of the great battle.[1225] Death of Geoffrey Bishop of Coutances. February 3, 1093. Geoffrey of Mowbray, Bishop and once Earl, had died a year before, and the episcopal chair of Coutances was now filled by his successor Ralph.[1226] How, it may be asked, came a Norman bishop in the court, almost in the army, of a king who was about to invade Normandy? The answer is easy. The Côtentin was now again in the hands of Henry,[1227] and the presence of its bishop at the court of William was a sign of the good understanding which now reigned between the two younger sons of the Conqueror. William and Anselm at Battle. But on such a day as this all interest gathers round the two main figures in the assembly, the two of highest rank in their several orders. William the Red, strange assistant in any religious rite, seems less out of place than usual as assistant in the rite which was to dedicate the work of his father. And if prayers and offerings were to go up on that spot for those who had fallen there on the defeated as well as on the victorious side, there was no mouth in which we should more gladly put them than in the mouth of him who was the chief celebrant on that day. Anselm, standing at the head of his foreign suffragans—English Wulfstan stood not by him—before the altar of Saint Martin of the Place of Battle, seemed like a representative of universal Christendom, of universal peace and love. The holy man from Aosta sang his mass in honour of the holy man of Tours. And he sang it on the spot where Harold of England had stood by his standard in the morning, where William of Normandy had held the feast of victory in the evening, the morning and evening of the most memorable day in the history of our island since England became one kingdom.

The King at Hastings. From the hill of Battle William went back to the hill of Hastings, now crowned by the castle into which the hasty fortress of his father had grown.[1228] William of Saint-Calais. Six years earlier the Bishop of Durham, charged with treason, had in answer, pleaded that he had kept Hastings and its castle in the King’s obedience.[1229] Notwithstanding that answer, he had been banished; he had been recalled, and he now stood, with all his former authority, chief counsellor of the King, chief enemy of the Archbishop. Consecration of Robert Bloet to Lincoln. February 12, 1094. On the morrow of the dedication of Saint Martin’s, William of Saint-Calais joined with Anselm in the long-delayed consecration of the elect of Lincoln. The rite was done in the church of Our Lady within the castle of Hastings, by the hands of the same prelates who had the day before dedicated the church of Battle. It was to the see of Lincoln, not to the see of Dorchester, that Robert Bloet was consecrated. Thomas of Bayeux was not there to repeat his protest. He would have been there in vain. The bishop-elect had, in the course of his chancellorship, got together the means of settling such questions. His bishopric, granted at the time of the King’s repentance, had cost him nothing. It was now a matter of regret with Rufus that it had cost him nothing; Robert had therefore to pay all the more for the establishment of the rights of his see. Robert’s gift to the King. One who had the means of knowing says that he gave the King the great sum of five thousand pounds to decide the cause in favour of Lincoln.[1230] This was done, the York writer complains, without the consent of the Archbishop of York and without the knowledge of his chapter.[1231] The case must have been settled either at Gloucester or now at Hastings. It was most likely at Hastings, as we can hardly fancy Thomas keeping away from the great Christmas gathering. Our Canterbury guide tells us a not very intelligible story which may show us how the claim of Thomas was spoken of in the southern metropolis. The cause of York had found at least professing friends among the great men at Hastings, though it met with no favour from the King himself. Plot against Anselm. Not knowing perhaps with what weighty arguments the elect of Lincoln had proved his case, certain unnamed bishops and lords deemed that they would please the King by anything which could annoy or discredit Anselm. They therefore insidiously tried to persuade the Archbishop to consecrate Robert without his making due profession to the church of Canterbury.[1232] Anselm stood firm. The King, when he heard of the plot, took to his magnanimous vein. His personal quarrel with Anselm should never lead him to do anything against the dignity of the Church of Canterbury his mother.[1233] The King and Flambard perhaps enjoyed the joke together. But Robert Bloet made the needful profession, and was consecrated as Bishop of Lincoln by Anselm and the assembled prelates. Compromise with York. The controversy with York was at last formally settled, by a compromise which was announced in a royal charter. By this the Archbishop of York accepted the patronage of the new abbey of Selby in his own diocese, and that of the church of Saint Oswald at Worcester—the city and diocese so long connected with York—in exchange for his claims over Lindesey.[1234] The isle and city of Lindum has ever since remained an undisputed member of the southern province.

Character of Robert Bloet. The new Bishop of Lincoln, the first prelate consecrated to that see, has left a doubtful character behind him. He held his bishopric for thirty years, living on far into the reign of Henry, and keeping the royal favour till just before his death. His offices. Chancellor under both Williams, he, as usual, resigned that post on his consecration; but under Henry he ruled with great power in the higher office of Justiciar.[1235] Bountiful in his gifts to his see and to his church, the number of whose prebends he doubled, splendid and liberal in his manner of life, bountiful to the poor, winning the hearts of all around him, not himself a scholar, but a promoter of scholars, skilful in worldly business of every kind, he does not show us the best, but neither does he show us the worst type of the prelates of his day. He was charged with looseness of life; but his chief accuser found it wise to strike out the charge, and his son Simon, Dean of his own church, was born while he was Chancellor to the Conqueror, quite possibly in lawful wedlock. His death. 1123. His last days form a striking incident in the next reign; here he chiefly concerns us as being in some sort, however strangely, bracketted with Anselm, as the other bishop whom the Red King named during his short time of repentance.[1236] Local legends about him. Anyhow it was hard on him to tell in after days how his ghost hindered anybody from praying or giving alms near his tomb in the minster, and that only because he removed the monks of Stow to Eynsham, because he subjected his see to the gift of a precious mantle to the King, or because he agreed to the wise measure which lessened the extent of his vast diocese.

Return of Herbert of Thetford. Another bishop appeared at this gathering, whose coming was, for the time, less lucky for himself than that of Robert Bloet. Herbert of Thetford, struck with penitence for his simoniacal bargain, had, as it will be remembered, gone beyond sea on an errand which of all others was most offensive to the King. He had gone to receive again from the Pope—doubtless from Urban—the bishopric which he had already bought of the King.[1237] He is deprived by the King. For this offence William now took away his staff; that is, he deprived him of his bishopric. With whose advice or consent this was done, and what line Anselm took with regard to such a step, we are not told. At all events the King now deprived a bishop of his office on the ground of what he deemed to be treason done without the realm. This was the converse of the act by which, forty-two years before, the nation had deprived another bishop on the ground of what they deemed to be treason within the realm.[1238] William however did not set up any doubtful Stigand of his own in the church of Thetford. About a year later Herbert was again in possession of his see.[1239] How he was restored to the King’s favour we are not told. He may have deemed it no sin to win it by means which he had learned to look upon as sin when applied to the obtaining of a spiritual office. Next year he removed the seat of the East-Anglian bishopric once more. Herfast had moved it from Elmham to Thetford. With the good will and help of Roger Bigod Herbert now translated it to its final seat at Norwich. He there began the foundation of that vast church and monastery, the creation of which caused his name to be ever since held in at least local honour.

Meanwhile the north wind still refused to blow, and the King with his prelates, lords, and courtiers, still tarried at Hastings. Lent, 1094. Lent began before the fleet had a chance of sailing. The penitential season began with the usual ceremonies. The Archbishop said his mass and preached his sermon in the ears of the multitude who came together on the day of ashes, to receive, according to custom, the ashes of penitence from the hands of the Primate. Among them came the minions and young gallants of the court of Rufus, with their long combed and twined hair, their mincing gait, defying alike the commands of the Apostle and the dictates of common decency and manliness. Anselm rebukes the minions. The voice of Anselm rebuked them, as well he might, when the outward garb was but the sign of the deeper foulness within. Not a few were moved to repentance; they submitted to the loss of their flowing locks, and put on again the form of men.[1240] Others were stubborn; they received neither ashes nor absolution. In this battle with a foolish custom which was in truth far more than a foolish custom, Anselm had not a few forerunners or followers. Saint Wulfstan, Gundulf, Serlo of Seez, all preached and acted vigorously against the long hair which was the symbol of the crying vice of the time.[1241] Anselm deemed that the evil called for something more than a single act of discipline. The man of God felt called on to strike at the root of the mischief; he was moved to make a warning appeal to the conscience, if any conscience was left, of the chief sinner of them all, and he made it, after his wont, at once gently and vigorously.

We may guess that the King had not been present at the ceremonies of Ash-Wednesday; had he been there, his presence would surely have been dwelled upon. It seems that Anselm, though openly out of the King’s favour, still visited him from time to time. Anselm’s interview with the King. One day therefore he went and sat down beside him, and spoke what was in his heart.[1242] The King was setting forth to conquer Normandy. His silence about the war. It is to be noticed that Anselm does not say a word as to the right or wrong of the war. Perhaps, after the challenge of Robert, the cause of Rufus may have seemed, even to him, to be technically just. Perhaps he knew that anything that could be said on that subject would be fruitless. He may even have deemed, a view which had much to be said for it, that a conquest of Normandy by the Red King would be a good exchange for the rule of its present sovereign. And we must remember that wars of all kinds were in those days so constantly going on that they would seem like a necessary evil, a dark side of the economy of things, but one which could not be hindered. Even men like Anselm would come to look with less horror than one might expect on wars which were waged only by those whose whole business might seem to be warfare. Anyhow Anselm said nothing directly against the war, even though it was to be waged against the prince to whom he had lately owed allegiance and against the land which had been to him a second birth-place. He asks for help in his reforms. But he asked the King whether he had any right to look for success in that or any other enterprise, unless he did something to check the evils which had well nigh uprooted the religion of Christ in his realm. He called on William to give him the help of the royal authority in his own schemes of reform. The King asked what form his help was to take,[1243] and Anselm then put forth his views at length.

He asks leave to hold a synod. First and foremost, the King was to help in the work of reform by allowing Anselm to hold a synod of the realm. It will be remembered that, by the laws of the Conqueror, no synod could be held without the King’s licence, and the acts of the synod were of no force without the King’s confirmation.[1244] But under the Conqueror Lanfranc had, on the conditions thus laid down, held his synods without hindrance. That is to say, the elder William, in all causes and over all persons within his dominions supreme, used that supremacy as the chief ruler of the Church from within, while the younger William turned that same supremacy into a weapon wherewith to assault the Church as an enemy from without. It is plain from the earnestness of Anselm one way—one might almost say, from the earnestness of Rufus the other way—that the synod was a real instrument for the reformation of manners. Advantages of the synod. It is plain that the assembled bishops, when they came together in a body, could do more both for ecclesiastical discipline and for moral improvement than they could do, each one in his own diocese. One cause may have been that, in a synod, the assembled prelates might seem to be really speaking as fathers in God, while the exercise of their local jurisdiction was too much mixed up with the petty and not always creditable details of their courts, with those tricks and extortions of archdeacons and other officials of which we have often heard. Anyhow, as the Roman Senate had good enough left in it to call forth the hatred of Nero, so an ecclesiastical synod had good enough left in it to call forth the hatred of William Rufus. No synod held under Rufus. Not one synod had he allowed to be held during the whole time of his reign, now in its seventh year.[1245] Anselm earnestly prayed to be allowed to hold one for the restoration of discipline and the reformation of manners. The King answered; “I will see to this matter when I think good; I will act, not after your pleasure but after my own. And, pray,” added he mockingly, “when you have got your synod, what will you talk about in it?” Anselm’s appeal against the fashionable vices. The man of God did not shrink from going straight to the crying evil of the time. What weighed most on Anselm’s mind was not any mere breach of ecclesiastical rule—such breaches he had to speak of, but he would not speak of them first;[1246] the burthen on his soul was the hideous moral corruption, a new thing on English ground, which had become rife throughout the land. Unless King and Primate, each in his own sphere, each with his own weapons, worked together to root out this plague, the kingdom of England might share the fate of the cities which it had come to resemble. A strict law was needed, the very hearing of which would make the guilty tremble.[1247] The words of Anselm were general; there was no personal charge against William; the Archbishop simply appealed to him as King to stop the sins of others. But all this makes us feel more strongly the wonderful character of such a scene, where two such men could be sitting side by side and exchanging their thoughts freely. But the heart of Rufus was hardened; he answered only by a sneer. “And what may come of this matter for you?” “For me nothing,” said Anselm; “for you and for God I hope much.”[1248]

There is so much of simple moral grandeur in this appeal of the righteous man against moral evil that we might almost have wished that Anselm’s discourse had ended at this point, and that he had not gone on to speak of matters which to us seem to have less of a moral and more of a technical nature. Ecclesiastical grievances. Yet Anselm would doubtless have thought himself faithless to his duty, if he had left the King’s presence without making a special appeal about the special grievances of ecclesiastical bodies. Moreover the wrongs of the bishoprics and abbeys were distinctly moral wrongs; the King’s doings involved breach of law, breach of trust; they were grievances on which the head of the ecclesiastical order was, as such, specially bound to enlarge. Wrongs of the church tenants. But they were also grievances which did not touch the ecclesiastical order only; the wrongs done to the tenants of the vacant churches are constantly dwelled on as one of the worst features of the system brought in by Rufus and Flambard. Anselm therefore deemed it his duty, before he parted from the King, to say a word on this matter also, a matter in which there could be no doubt that the King himself was the chief sinner. No bishopric was now vacant; but several abbeys, Saint Alban’s among them, were in the hands of Flambard. He prays the King to fill the vacant abbeys. Such a state of things called for his own care as Primate; he appealed to William to give him his help as King. In the monasteries which were left without rulers discipline became lax; the monks fell into evil courses; they died without confession. He prayed the King to allow the appointment of abbots to the vacant churches, lest he should draw on himself the judgement which must follow on the evils to which their vacancies gave cause.[1249] The King seems to have been less able to endure this rebuke than the other. The disorders of his courtiers and of his own private life he could not defend on any showing; but the demand that the abbeys should be filled touched what he looked on as one of his royal rights. Rufus burst forth in wrath. “Are not the abbeys mine? The abbeys in what sense the King’s. Tush, you do as you choose with your manors; shall not I do as I choose with my abbeys?”[1250] The answer of Anselm drew a distinction which was a very practical one in those days, and which affects our legal language still. To this day the King, the Bishop, the Chapter, all speak of any episcopal see as “our cathedral church,” and all speak, from their several points of view, with equal truth. Such a church is the king’s church by virtue of the fundatorial rights which he claims, in some cases by real historic succession, in all cases by a legal theory. By virtue of those fundatorial rights, he claims to be informed of every vacancy, and to give his consent to a new election. In this sense Anselm did not deny that the abbeys were the King’s abbeys; he did deny that they were the King’s in the further sense in which Rufus claimed them. “The abbeys are yours,” he said, “to defend and guard as an advocate; they are not yours to spoil and lay waste. They are God’s; they are given that his servants may live of them, not that you may make campaigns and battles at their cost.[1251] You have manors and revenues of many kinds, out of which you may carry on all that belongs to you. Leave, may it please you, the churches to have their own.” Hostile answer of Rufus. “Truly,” says the King, “you know that what you say is most unpleasing to me. Your predecessor would never have dared to speak so to my father. I will do nothing on your account.” When Anselm then saw that he was casting his words to the winds,[1252] he rose and went his way.

Lanfranc and Anselm. It may be that William Rufus spoke truly, and that Lanfranc would not, in any case, have dared to speak to the Conqueror as Anselm dared to speak to him. Lanfranc, with much that was great and good in him, was not a prophet of righteousness like Anselm. But it is far more certain that Lanfranc was never put to the test. The Conqueror never gave him any need to speak to him as Anselm had now need to speak to his son. What we blame in William the Great, what men like Wimund of Saint Leutfred dared to blame in him, Lanfranc could not blame. The position of Lanfranc in England involved the position of William. And, once granting that position, there was comparatively little to blame in the elder William. The beheading of Waltheof, the making of the New Forest, stand almost alone; and the beheading of Waltheof was at least no private murder; it was the judgement of what was in form a competent court. The harshness and greediness with which the Conqueror is justly charged was, after all, a small matter compared with the utter unlaw of his son’s reign. No need to rebuke the Conqueror on these points. And on the two subjects of Anselm’s present discourse, the elder William needed no rebuke at any time. His private life was at all times absolutely blameless, and, neither as Duke nor as King, did he ever turn his ecclesiastical supremacy into a source of gain. On both those points Lanfranc had as good a right to speak as Anselm; but on those points he was never called on to speak to his own master. Whether, in Anselm’s place, he would Estimate of Anselm’s conduct. have dared to speak as Anselm did, we cannot tell. But surely the holy boldness of Anselm cannot be looked on as in any way blameworthy, as either insolent or untimed. To him at least the time doubtless seemed most fitting. He called on the King, before he exposed himself to the dangers of a campaign beyond the sea, to do something to win God’s favour by correcting the two grossest of the evils which were rife in his kingdom. The Assembly was clearly not dissolved when Anselm spoke; William could at once have filled the abbeys, he could at once have put forth a law against the other class of offenders, in the most regular form, by the advice of his Wise Men. Anselm might even have held his synod while the wind was waiting. The synod in Lanfranc’s day followed on the Gemót, and it took up only three days.[1253] Most of the bishops were present at Hastings; those who were absent had doubtless been summoned and, by the rule of the Great Charter and of common sense, they would be bound by the acts of those who obeyed the summons.The Archbishop’s claim to the regency. Moreover, according to the precedents of the late reign, Anselm would be the sole or chief representative of the King during his absence. He might fairly ask to be clothed with every power, temporal and spiritual, which was needed for the fit discharge of kingly as well as pastoral duties.

Anselm attempts to recover the King’s favour. Anselm was deeply grieved at the ill success of his personal appeal to the King. He was now wholly out of the King’s favour, and he felt that, without some measure of support from the King, he could not carry out the reforms, ecclesiastical and moral, for which he longed.[1254] He was ready to do anything that could be done with a good conscience in order to win back the King’s good will. He sent the bishops to William, to crave that he might, of the King’s free grace, be again admitted to his friendship. If the King would not grant him his favour, let him at least say why he would not grant it; if Anselm had wronged him in any way, he was ready to make the wrong good.[1255] The bishops laid the prayer of their metropolitan before the King. The answer was characteristic. “I have no fault to find with the Archbishop; yet I will not grant him my favour, because I hear no reason given why I should.”[1256] What those words meant in the mouth of Rufus the bishops knew very well. Advice of the bishops to give more money. They went back to tell the Primate that the mystery was clear.[1257] The King’s favour was to be won only by money, and by money in no small store. Their counsel was that Anselm should at once give the King the five hundred pounds which he had before offered, and that he should promise him another gift of the same amount as soon as he could get it out of his men.[1258] On those terms they fully believed that the King would grant him his peace and friendship. They saw no other way for him; they were in the same strait themselves, and knew no other way out of it.[1259]

In the counsel thus given to Anselm by his suffragans we hear the words, not of utterly worldly and unscrupulous men, but of the ordinary prelates of the time, good men, many of them, in all that concerned their own personal lives and the ordinary administration of their churches, but not men disposed to risk or dare much, men disposed to go on as they best might in very bad times, without doing anything which might make things still worse. Anselm’s grounds for refusing. In the eyes of Anselm, on the other hand, things hardly could be made worse; if they could, it would be by consenting to them. By an unflinching assertion of principle things might be made better; in the worst case the assertor of principle would have delivered his own soul. In Anselm’s eyes the course which his suffragans suggested was sinful on every ground; moreover—an argument which some of them might better understand—it was utterly inexpedient. He refused to make his way out of his difficulties by the path which they proposed. The King allowed that he had no ground of complaint; he was simply angry because he could not get five hundred pounds out of him as the price of his favour. If now, while his appointment was still fresh, he should win the King’s favour at such a price, the King would get angry with him at any other time that might suit him, in order to have his wrath bought off in the same way. This last argument seems to show that Anselm was after all not so lacking in worldly wisdom as some have thought. He will not oppress his tenants. But his main argument was that he would not commit the crime of wringing any more money out of his tenants. They had been frightfully oppressed and robbed during the vacancy; he had not as yet been able to do anything to relieve them; he would not lay fresh burthens upon them; he would not flay alive those who were already stripped to their skins.[1260] Again, he would not deal with his lord the King as if his friendship was a thing to be bought and sold. He owed the King faith and honour, and it would be doing him dishonour to treat his favour like a horse or an ass to be paid for in vile money. He utterly refused to put such an insult upon his sovereign. His answer to the bishops. He told his suffragans that they should rather do their best to persuade the King to deal of his free grace as it was fit for him to deal with his archbishop and spiritual father. Then he, on his part, would strive to do all that he could and might do for his service and pleasure. This ideal view of the relation of King and Primate was doubtless above the heads of John of Bath, of Robert of Lincoln, of Robert of Chester, and of William of Durham in his present mood. It was surely one of them, rather than Osmund or Robert of Hereford, who answered; “But at least you will not refuse him the five hundred pounds which you once offered.” Anselm answered that he could not give that either; when the King refused it, he had promised it to the poor, and the more part of it had been given to them already. The bishops went back to the King on their unpromising errand. The King more hostile than ever. William bade them tell the Archbishop that he hated him much yesterday, that he hated him much to-day, and that he would hate him more and more to-morrow and every other day. He would never hold Anselm for father or archbishop; he cursed and eschewed his blessings and prayers. Let him go where he would; he need not stay any longer there at Hastings, if it was to bless him on his setting sail that he was waiting.[1261]

Anselm leaves Hastings. The Red King had thus cast aside another offer of grace. Our guide tells us; “We departed from the court with speed, and left him to his will.” The pronoun is emphatic. From that time, if not from an earlier time, English Eadmer was the inseparable companion of Anselm. Anselm and Eadmer then turned away, at what exact date we are not told. But the north wind seems not to have blown till more than half the month of March had passed. Then at last King William of England set sail from Hastings for the conquest of Normandy. He went without Anselm’s blessing; yet some of the ceremonies which had been gone through during his sojourn at Hastings must surely have dwelled in his mind. Fresh from the rite which in some sort marked the completion of his father’s work in England, the William crosses to Normandy. March 19, 1094.younger William set out so far to undo his father’s work as to bring Normandy into political subjection to England. At what Norman haven he landed we are not told; it was seemingly in some part of the lands of his earlier conquest, the lands on the right bank of the Seine. Before swords were drawn, an attempt was made to settle the dispute between the brothers.Vain attempts to settle the dispute. King and Duke met in person; what was their place of meeting we are not told; but no agreement could be come to.[1262] A second meeting took place, in which the guarantors of the former treaty were appealed to, much as Cnut had appealed to the witnesses of the treaty between him and Eadmund.[1263] Verdict of the guarantors against William. The guarantors, the twenty-four barons, twelve on each side, who had sworn to the treaty, agreed in a verdict which laid the whole blame upon the King. The words of our account—it is the English Chronicler who speaks—clearly imply that the guarantors on William’s side agreed in this verdict no less than those who swore on behalf of Robert.[1264] And he adds from himself that Rufus would neither allow that he was in fault nor abide by his former engagement.[1265] This meeting therefore was yet more fruitless than the former; the brothers parted in greater anger than ever.[1266] The Duke went back to Rouen; the King again took up his head-quarters at Eu.[1267]

Again on Norman soil, William began to practise the arts which had stood him in such stead in his former enterprise on the duchy. He hired mercenaries; he gave or promised money or lands to such of the chief men of Normandy as were willing to forsake the allegiance of Robert; he quartered his knights both in the castles which he had hitherto held, and in those which he won to himself by these means.[1268] Some of these last were very far from Eu. Castles held by the King. It shows how successful were the arts of Rufus, how wide was the disaffection against Robert, when we find castles, far away from one another, far away from the seat of William’s power in eastern Normandy, but hemming in the lands in the Duke’s obedience on two dangerous frontiers, garrisoned by the King’s troops. We are reminded of the revival of Henry’s power in the Côtentin when we read La Houlme. that the castle of La Houlme, at the junction of the two rivers Douve and Merderet, lying south-east from Valognes and nearly east from Saint Saviour, was now held for William.[1269] Argentan. So was another stronghold in quite another quarter, not far from the Cenomannian border, the castle of Argentan on the upper course of the Orne, to the south of the great forest of Gouffers. Two famous captains held these threatening posts. Argentan was commanded by Earl Roger’s son, Roger the Poitevin.[1270] La Houlme was held by William Peverel, the lord of Nottingham and the Peakland.[1271] Taking of Bures. But the first military exploit of the campaign was wrought in a land nearer to Eu. Bures—whether still held or not by the faithful Helias we are not told—was taken, and the garrison were made prisoners; some of them were kept in Normandy, others were sent by Rufus for better safe-keeping in his own kingdom.[1272]

Rufus thus pressed the war vigorously against his brother, with the full purpose of wholly depriving him of the duchy. Robert calls in King Philip. Robert, in his distress, again called on his over-lord, and this time with more effect than before.[1273] The French intervention was at least able to turn the balance for a while against Rufus. No object was more important for Robert than the recovery of the two strongholds which threatened him, one in the dangerous land on the upper Orne, the other in the no less dangerous Constantine peninsula. Siege of Argentan. A joint expedition of the new allies was agreed on, and King and Duke appeared side by side before Argentan. The castle stood on a height of no great elevation above the river, with the town, as usual, spreading down to its banks. The existing fragments show that the fortress and its precinct covered a vast space, but no architectural feature remains as a witness of the siege of Argentan by Philip and Robert. The town contains several attractive buildings of later date, ecclesiastical, civil, and military. There are churches, town-walls with their towers, the later château within the fortress; but of the stronghold which Roger of Poitou had to guard against the powers of Rouen and Paris but little can be traced. There are some massive and irregular pieces of wall, and part of a polygonal donjon, the latter at least far later than Roger’s day. But of the size and strength of the castle there can be no doubt. It is therefore with some little wonder that we read that the besiegers found its capture so easy a matter as they did, especially when its defender was one of the house of Montgomery and Bellême. Surrender of Argentan. On the very first day of the siege the castle surrendered without bloodshed. Roger of Poitou, with seven hundred knights and as many esquires—a name which we are now beginning to come across—and his whole garrison were made prisoners and were kept in ward till they were ransomed.[1274] Here we see the hand of Philip; we see, as in some other cases which we have come across already, the beginning of one of the institutions of chivalry. Ransom of prisoners. We shall presently see the custom of the ransom become a marked feature of the wars between France and England—so we shall soon find ourselves obliged to call them—in the eleventh century no less than in the fourteenth. But the bulky King of the French was for the present contented with this one exploit and with so valuable a stock of captives. Philip went back into France, and left his Norman vassal to go on with the campaign alone.[1275] Robert now drew some spirit from success. He marched westward, and attacked La Houlme. Robert takes La Houlme The castle surrendered; the lord of the Peak, with eight hundred men, became the prize of the Duke’s unusual display of vigour.[1276]

The war went on; each side burned the towns and took the men of the other side.[1277] But the tide had for the moment decidedly turned against the Red King. Difficulties of Rufus. The loss of Argentan and La Houlme, with their commanders and their large garrisons, was a serious military blow. The payment of their ransoms might be a still more serious financial blow. And the payment of a ransom, by which he only got back again what he had had before, would be less satisfactory to the mind of Rufus than the payment of bribes and wages by which he had a hope of gaining something fresh. The hoard at Winchester seems at last to have been running low; but when William Rufus was king and when he had Randolf Flambard to his minister, there could be no lack of ways and means to fill it again. Further taxation. Specially heavy were the gelds laid on England both in this year and in the following.[1278] And money was gained by one device which surely would have come into the head of no king and no minister save those by whom it actually was devised. A great levy was ordered; Levy of English soldiers. King William sent over his bidding that twenty thousand Englishmen should come over to help the King in Normandy.[1279] Englishmen had by this time got used to service beyond sea. Nothing is said of any difficulty in getting this great force together. The troops were gathered at Hastings, ready to set sail. Each man had brought with him ten shillings, the contribution of his shire for his maintenance in the King’s service. For the men who answered to Rufus’ bidding were no mercenaries, not even housecarls; they were the fyrd of England, summoned, by a perhaps unjustifiable but not very wonderful stretch of authority, to serve their king beyond the sea. But, when they were ready to sail, Flambard takes away the soldiers’ money. Flambard came, and by the King’s orders took away each man’s money, and bade them all go home again.[1280] One would like to know something of the feelings of the men who were thus strangely cheated; we should surely have heard if there had been any open resistance. Anyhow, by this amazing trick, the Red King had exchanged the arms of twenty thousand Englishmen for a sum of ten thousand pounds of English money. After all, the money might be of greater use than the men in a war with Philip of Paris.

If William thus reckoned, he was not deceived. He was still at Eu. Philip was again in arms; his forces joined those of Robert; again King and Duke marched side by side, this time with the purpose of besieging the King of the English in his Norman stronghold. Rufus buys off Philip. The ten thousand pounds now served William’s turn quite as well as the twenty thousand men could have served it. The combined French and Norman host had reached Longueville on the Scie, with streams and forests between them and Eu.[1281] Longueville was the last stage of their march. Thither Rufus sent those who knew how to bring his special arguments to bear on the mind of Philip. The King again went back to France, and the confederate army was broken up.[1282]

Contemporary notices of the campaign. There is something very singular in the way in which this second Norman war of William Rufus is dealt with by those who wrote at or near the time. Some make no mention of it at all; others speak of it only casually; our own Chronicler, who gives the fullest account of all, does not carry it on to any intelligible issue of success or of failure. In his pages, and in those of some others, the war drops out of notice, without coming to any real end of any kind.[1283] The monk of Saint Evroul, so lavish in local Norman details, seems to have had his head too full of the local strifes among the Norman nobles to tell us anything of a warfare which in our eyes comes so much nearer to the likeness of a national struggle. It must always be remembered that the local wars which tore every district of Normandy in pieces did not stop in the least because two hostile kings were encamped on Norman soil. Difference between England and Normandy. There cannot be a more speaking comment, at once on the difference between Robert and either of his brothers and on the essential difference between the ordinary state of Normandy and of England. With us private war was never lawful; we needed not the preaching of the Truce of God.[1284] William the Great, when his authority was fully established, kept England in peace; and in his later years the peace of Normandy itself, as distinguished from the border lands, was broken only by the rebellion of his own son. So in England there still were rebellions alike against Rufus and against Henry; but, when the rebellion was crushed, the land was at rest. Private wars go on in Normandy. In Normandy, as soon as the hand of the great ruler was taken away, things fell back into the state in which they had been during his own minority. And they remained in that state till William the Red in his later years again established order in the duchy. One can well understand that the endless ups and downs in the local struggles which went on close to every man’s door really drew to themselves far more of men’s thoughts than the strife of King William, King Philip, and Duke Robert himself. The two kings were but two more disputants added to the crowd, and they were disputants who really did much less harm to the land in general than was done by its own native chiefs. It is not very wonderful then that we hear so little of this war from the Norman side. It is not wonderful that, on the English side, when stirring events began again before long to happen in England, the Norman war dropped out of sight. And presently events in the world’s history were to come which made even the warfare of England and France seem trifles amid the general stir of “the world’s debate.”

Relations of Rufus and Henry. For the last events of Rufus’ second Norman war we have to go wholly to our one witness in our own tongue. It is plain that the King, even after his gold had turned Philip back, did not feel at all at ease in his Norman quarters. He seems to have distrusted two important personages at the other end of the duchy, his other brother and one of the mightiest of his own subjects. Henry, Ætheling and again Count, was safe in his castle of Domfront, among the people who had chosen him as their protector. At one period of this year, he is described as at war with both his brothers at once.[1285] We find him taking the part of the lord of Saint Cenery, Robert son of Geroy,[1286] against the common enemy, Robert of Bellême. Saint Cenery taken by Robert of Bellême. His help however did not hinder the cherished fortress from falling into the hands of the tyrant.[1287] We hear of him before the end of the war in a way which implies at least some suspicious feeling between himself and the King his brother. Henry and Hugh summoned to Eu. Besides Henry, Hugh of Chester—rather Hugh of Avranches or Hugh of Saint-James—was also in his own continental possessions. The King summoned both of them to come to him at Eu, and, as the state of the duchy did not allow them to come across Normandy by land, he sent ships to bring them.[1288] But Henry and Hugh, from whatever causes, did not choose to meet the King face to face. They go to Southampton. October 31, 1094.
They keep Christmas in London. Instead of sailing to Eu or its port, they made for Southampton, where they landed and seemingly stayed—with what objects we are not told—for some weeks.[1289] Thence they went to London, and kept Christmas there. King William was not this year wearing his crown either at Westminster or at Gloucester. But it is clear that the movements of his youngest brother had an effect upon his own. For the first three days of the holy twelve he stayed at Whitsand. The King comes to England. December 28, 1094. On the fourth day, the feast of the Innocents, the anniversary of the dedication of the West Minster, he crossed the sea and landed at Dover.[1290] Thence he seemingly came to London, where Henry was. Whatever quarrels or suspicions had sprung up between the King and the Ætheling were now made up. Henry was received into his brother’s fullest William and Henry reconciled. confidence. He stayed in England till Lent began, when he went to spend the penitential season in Normandy. But it was not to be an idle season; in the month between Epiphany and Lent, the Red King had made his preparations for a campaign in which Henry was to Henry goes to Normandy, c. Feb. 9, 1095. take his place. The Count of Coutances then went again beyond sea with great treasures to be used on the King’s behalf against his brother—Earl Robert, as English lips called him. “And ofttimes upon the Earl he won, and to him mickle harm either on land and His warfare with Robert.on men did.”[1291] Here ends our story. We get no further details till William became master of all Normandy by quite another process. General results of the campaign. But though we get no details of the war from Norman sources, we do get a general picture of its results. The no-rule of Robert is once more set before us in speaking words. The soft Duke, who feared his subjects more than they feared him, was benumbed with softness and idleness.[1292] He is contrasted with both his brothers. Progress of Henry. Henry held his stronghold at Domfront, together with a large but undefined part of the duchy, including without doubt the more part of his old peninsular county. Some places he had won by arms; others, like Domfront itself, had sought his rule of their own free will.[1293] Within these bounds he yielded to his brother the Duke just so much service as he thought good,[1294] which at this particular moment would be little indeed. And the other brother who wore the diadem of England held more than twenty castles on Norman ground. He, unlike Robert, was a ruler whom men feared; and his gifts, and the fear of him together, kept many of the great men of the land, not only in his allegiance, but in his zealous service.[1295] If Normandy was not conquered, it was at least effectually dismembered.

Norman supporters of William. The list of the Norman nobles who joined the King from beyond sea takes in most of the names with which we are most at home. There is Ralph of Conches, Gerard of Gournay, Richard of Courcy. We hear now too of Philip of Braose, a name to become famous in more than one part of our island. And we find the names of men yet higher in power, and nearer to the ducal house. William of Eu.
Stephen of Aumale. There is the first author of the late troubles, Count William of Eu, for the present still an adherent of Rufus, before long to be heard of in quite another character. With him stands Count Stephen of Aumale, also before long to play a part in our story wholly different from that which we find him playing now. Robert of Meulan. And it is needless to say that Count Robert of Meulan was the Red King’s servant in his Norman, as well as in his English character.[1296] Walter Giffard. Nor do we wonder to find in the same list—for he was Earl of Buckingham as well as lord of Longueville—the name of Walter Giffard, him who appeared as an aged man forty years before.[1297] He still lived, while, during this very year, more than one of the elder generation of the famous men of Normandy passed away. Death of Roger of Beaumont. 1094. The father of the Count of Meulan, the old Roger of Beaumont, renowned so many years before alike in arms and in council,[1298] died on the Norman soil which he had guarded so well, and which he seems never to have left. He had for some years left the world, to become a monk in the monastery of Preaux of his father’s rearing.[1299] His estates had passed to his son at Meulan, the mighty vassal of three lords. Henry Earl of Warwick. His younger son Henry had his lot cast in England, where, perhaps before this time, the Red King bestowed on him the earldom of Warwick. And, in the same year as the lord of Beaumont, died, far away in England, another Roger, Death of Roger of Montgomery. 1094. like him a monk, but four days before a mighty earl, Roger of Montgomery, of Arundel, and of Shrewsbury, the youngest brother of the house beyond the Severn bridge of which he at least claimed to be the founder.[1300] His vast possessions were divided at his death. Robert of Bellême succeeds his father in Normandy, and Hugh in England. Robert of Bellême, already heir of his mother in the border-land, now became heir of his father in Normandy. The earldom of Shrewsbury and Roger’s other English estates passed to his second son Hugh, who bears the character of being the only one of the sons of Mabel who was mild and gentle[1301]—mild and gentle, we must understand, to Normans, perhaps even to Englishmen, but certainly not to captive Britons. Of Hugh, as well as of Robert of Bellême and Roger of Poitou, as well as of Arnulf of Montgomery, a fourth son of the same fierce stock, we shall hear much as our tale goes on. Death of Hugh of Grantmesnil. In England too, perhaps within his sheriffdom of Leicester, died Hugh of Grantmesnil, of whom we have lately heard in the civil wars both of Normandy and of England, and whom his own shire and his neighbours of Northamptonshire had no reason to bless. His burial at Saint Evroul. His body, we need hardly say, found its way across the sea, to lie among his loyal bedesmen at Saint Evroul.[1302] These men all left the world in the year with which we are now dealing, Death of Walter Giffard. 1102. and left the hoary Earl of Buckingham to be for eight years longer the representative of an earlier day.[1303] The hands which eight and twenty years before had been too feeble to bear the banner of the Apostle[1304] were still, it would seem, ready to do whatever was still found for them to do in the service of the Red King. But the warfare of the King and his partisans is set down simply as one among the many ways in which Normandy was torn in pieces by her own children.[1305] Eadmer’s judgement of the campaign. An English writer meanwhile, on whose main subject the Norman campaigns of Rufus had but a very indirect bearing, speaks casually of this expedition as an undertaking on which a vast deal of money was spent, but by which very little was gained.[1306]

It is indeed to be borne in mind, as supplying at least a partial explanation of the way in which the second Norman expedition comes to an end without any end, that things in England were, just as they had been three years and a half before, in a state which urgently called for the presence of the King within his kingdom. Wretchedness of England. We know not whether it at all moved him that the heavy taxation which had been laid on his kingdom for the cost of his warfare had brought the land to the lowest pitch of wretchedness. Men, we are told, had ceased to till the ground; hunger followed; there were hardly left any who could tend the dying or bury the dead.[1307] These things might not have greatly stirred the heart of the Red King; but he may, like other tyrants, have felt that there was a bound beyond which oppression could not be safely carried. Causes for the King’s return. And there were political and military reasons which called him back. He could not afford to jeopard his undisputed possession of England for the sake of a few more castles in Normandy. He could hardly afford to jeopard for their sake the imperial supremacy of his crown over the whole isle of Britain, a supremacy which he was at that moment specially called on to assert. The year of the second Norman campaign was a year of special importance in the history both of Scotland and of Wales. Affairs of Scotland While the Red King was warring and bribing in Normandy, Scotland had, as in the days of Siward, received a king from England, and, what had not happened in the days of Siward, her people had slain the foreign nominee, and had again chosen a king of their own. The first reign of Donald, the momentary reign of Duncan, the beginning of the second reign of Donald, all of them events which were not mere changes of sovereign, but real revolutions in the state of the nation, had happened between the death of Malcolm and the return of William from Normandy thirteen months later. and Wales. Wales too had risen in a movement which had more than was usual of the character of real national insurrection, and the movement had called for all the energies of the new Earl of Shrewsbury and of the King himself on his return. Plots at home. And a plot yet nearer home, a plot to deprive the King of his crown and life, a plot devised by men who had been just now the foremost in supporting his cause, broke out soon after his return. It broke out so soon after it that one is tempted to think that it was already hatching, and that it was one of the causes which brought him back. The seeming break-down of the Red King’s second Norman campaign thus becomes more intelligible than some of the other cases where he began an undertaking and failed to finish it. William had plenty to do in Britain, both in camp and in council. As soon as he was assured of the adhesion of his brother Henry, he could afford, indeed he was driven, to leave him to do the work which had to be done in Normandy.

§ 4. The Council of Rockingham.
December, 1094–March, 1095.

Notices of the year 1095. The year to which the last Christmas feast introduces us brings strongly home to us the singular way in which our general chroniclers follow one line of events, while the special biographer of the Archbishop follows another. There is no contradiction; but the gaps which have to be filled up in each narrative are remarkable. It is not perhaps wonderful that the biographer of Anselm should, even in a work which bears a general title, pass by events which in no way affected the history of Anselm. It is more remarkable that one of the most striking scenes in Anselm’s history should not have been thought worthy of notice by the more general annalists of our land. But so it is. Councils of the year. The year 1095 is a year of very stirring events, and it is preeminently a year of councils. But, with a single exception, our two authorities do not record the same events and the same councils. Both tell us of the pallium being brought to Anselm; but, while one tells us nothing of the most striking of the assemblies in which Anselm bore a part, the other tells us nothing of the conspiracy, the revolt, the war, which specially mark this year in the general story of England.

Alleged Welsh campaign. January 9, 1095? If our story is rightly told, the Christmas meeting of William and Henry, followed before long by a Norman campaign on the part of Henry, was followed yet more immediately by a Welsh campaign on the part of William. The King took the affairs of his own island into his own hands, and, for the present, he left those of the mainland to the Count of Coutances. A winter campaign in Wales does not sound very promising, and we are not surprised to hear that it did not add much to the glory of the Red King’s arms.[1308] At all events it must have been short, for, in the course of January and February we find him at points at a considerable distance from the Welsh border. Movements of William. January-February, 1095. In January he was at Cricklade in Wiltshire; in February he was at Gillingham in Dorset, near to Ælfred’s monastery of Shaftesbury, and itself the scene of the election of the Confessor.[1309] In both cases we hear of the King’s movements through incidental notices in our ecclesiastical story. The second is part of the story of Anselm; the first does not concern Anselm himself; it forms part of the tale of the holiest of his suffragans.

Death of Wulfstan. In this month of January the soul of the last surviving English bishop, the sainted Wulfstan of Worcester, passed away. In the eyes of one annalist his death was the great event of the year, and was announced by signs and wonders in the heavens. “There was a stir among the stars, and Wulfstan Bishop of Worcester died!”[1310] Sickness of Wulfstan. The health of the good old man had been for some time ailing; we have seen that he had latterly been unable to show himself in assemblies and ceremonies. At the Easter, 1094. Easter of the year before his death, while the King was in Normandy, he told his steward that on the day of the feast he meant to dine in state with “good men.” He dines with “good men.” The steward, mistaking the meaning of a phrase which is ambiguous in several languages and which was specially so in the English of his day,[1311] got together many of the rich men of the neighbourhood—we are not told whether the Sheriff Urse was among them. The day came; the Bishop entered the hall with a large company of the poor, and ordered seats to be set for them among the other guests. The steward was displeased;[1312] but Wulfstan explained that those whom he brought with him were the men who had the true riches; he had rather sit down with such a company than sit down, as he had often done, with the King of the English.[1313] For Rufus, we are told, always received Wulfstan with honour; General respect for Wulfstan. we may doubt whether either knew enough of the other’s language for rebukes to be met by repartees. The great men of the realm did the like. Foreign princes, prelates, and potentates honoured him with gifts and asked for his prayers.[1314] His correspondence. Among his correspondents were the Pope—doubtless Urban—Malcolm and Margaret of Scotland, and the kings of Ireland. His increased sickness. Whitsuntide, 1094.To this list are added the Archbishop of Bari and the Patriarch of Jerusalem, which last name suggests correspondence on the common needs of Christendom. At Pentecost Wulfstan was very sick; he sent for his special friend Bishop Robert of Hereford, him whose skill had foretold that Remigius would never dedicate his minster.[1315] Wulfstan and Robert of Hereford. Robert came; the humble Wulfstan made his confession and submitted to the discipline.[1316] But he lived on during the rest of that year. Shortly after the beginning of the new year, he had another visit from Bishop Robert and two abbots of his diocese, Serlo of Gloucester and Gerald, abbot of the still unfinished house which Robert Fitz-hamon was raising at Tewkesbury.[1317] Wulfstan again confessed; he foretold his own death; he comforted his friends; he gave himself to religious exercises, causing his seat in his chamber to be so placed that he could see the altar in his chapel.[1318] Death of Wulfstan. January 18, 1095.
His appearance to Bishop Robert. At last, not many days after Robert’s visit, the one remaining bishop of the old stock passed away from his church and from the world. Men believed that he appeared in transitu to his friend Bishop Robert, who, as one who reconciled his episcopal virtues with skill in the affairs of the world, was now with the King at Cricklade.[1319]

The vision bade Robert come to his friend’s burial; he came, and the ceremony took place four days after Wulfstan’s death, among a mighty gathering of those who had honoured His burial. Jan. 22.him in life. A generation later it was made a subject of complaint, a subject of rebuke to an age which, we are told, was loath to believe in signs and wonders, that so holy a man was not formally enrolled on the list of saints.[1320] Aftertimes made up for this neglect. Wulfstan became the chief object of local devotion, and no small object of devotion throughout the land. The saint whom Rufus had honoured in life became after death the special object of the devotion of King John, who hoped to be safer in the next world if his body lay in Wulfstan’s church under the shadow of Wulfstan’s shrine.

Another link with the past was thus snapped, and, what the King at least thought more of, another bishopric passed into the hands of Flambard. About a month after the shade of Wulfstan had appeared to Bishop Robert in the King’s court at Cricklade, the living Anselm showed himself to the King in person in his court at Gillingham.[1321] Notwithstanding the hatred which William had expressed towards him at Hastings, the Archbishop had reasons which urged him to seek another interview. Anselm and Urban. The errand on which he came was one at which he had hinted before he had been invested with the archbishopric. He had then fairly warned the King that, if he became archbishop, he must acknowledge Urban as Pope.[1322] He had as yet done nothing towards acknowledging him; he had taken no step which involved the acknowledgement of Urban or of any other pope. With Anselm moral questions came first. The points on which he had first striven to awaken the conscience of the King had been the moral corruption of his court and kingdom, and the synod which, in Anselm’s eyes at least, was the best means for its reformation. But William had so utterly refused his consent to the holding of a synod, he had so utterly refused to give Anselm any help in his schemes of moral reform, that Anselm perhaps thought it useless to press those subjects again upon him. The point which he still thought it his duty to press was one which to us seems of infinitely less importance than either, but with regard to which we must look at matters with the eyes of Anselm’s day and not with the eyes of our own. Anselm was full archbishop in all points spiritual and temporal, as far as the spiritual and temporal powers of England could make him so. Need of the pallium. But he still lacked one badge of metropolitan authority, without which his position would certainly be deemed imperfect anywhere out of England. He had not received the archiepiscopal pallium from Rome. He naturally wished for this final stage of his promotion, this sign of recognition, as he would deem it, on the part of the Universal Church and her chief pastor. Elder usage as to the pallium. Now this supposed need of the pallium was not, like some of the claims of the Roman see, anything new. English archbishops had gone to receive the pallium at Rome, or they had had the pallium sent to them from Rome, in the days of the elder William, in the days of Eadward, in the days of kings long before then.[1323] Lanfranc had gone to Rome for his pallium with the full good will of the Conqueror,[1324] and one of the chief ecclesiastical difficulties of the time immediately before the Conqueror’s coming was the belief that Stigand had received his pallium in an irregular way.[1325] The amount of dependence on the Roman see which was implied in the receipt of this badge of honour may perhaps be questioned. It would be differently understood at Rome and at Canterbury. It would be differently understood at Canterbury, according to the temper of different archbishops, or according to their English or foreign birth. The pallium not needful for the validity of archiepiscopal acts. But it is at least plain that the possession of the pallium was not at this time looked on as at all needful for the validity of any archiepiscopal act. Anselm, as yet unclothed with it, had consecrated a bishop and had proposed to hold a synod. Still for the new archbishop to go to Rome to receive that badge of his office which was still lacking was a simple matter of course. Doubtless the journey needed the formal leave of the king; but no king but William Rufus would have thought of refusing his leave for the purpose. William had indeed not acknowledged Urban; but Anselm had warned William that, if he became archbishop, he must continue to acknowledge Urban, and William had allowed him to become archbishop on those terms. The earlier conduct of William in such matters could not have led Anselm to think that he attached much real importance to the matter. William of Saint-Calais had put forth the loftiest views of papal authority in the hearing of William and Lanfranc, and they had been objected to on quite other grounds. King and Primate had rightly objected when the Bishop of Durham appealed from the King and his Witan to the Pope of Rome; they had not quarrelled with the Bishop of Durham simply because he had implied that there was a Pope of Rome. Character of William’s refusal. The refusal to allow Anselm to go for the pallium could have come only from a king who was determined to raise every point which could annoy the archbishop, above all to raise every point which could by any chance drive him to a resignation of the archbishopric. Or better still than all in the Red King’s eyes would it be to find some point which could anyhow lead to Anselm’s being deprived of the archbishopric. If such an end could be gained, it would matter not by what power or by what process it was done; it would matter not if it involved the forsaking on William’s own part of every position which he had taken up.

Anselm asks leave to go to Urban for the pallium.
William will acknowledge no pope. Anselm then came to Gillingham, and asked the King’s leave to go to the Pope to ask for his pallium. William at once asked to which Pope he meant to go.[1326] Anselm of course answered, To Urban. The King said that he had not yet acknowledged Urban as Pope, that it was neither his custom nor that of his father to allow any one in his kingdom so much as to call any one Pope without his leave. So precious was this right to him that to seek to take it from him was the same thing as to seek to take away his crown.[1327] Anselm’s argument. Anselm then set forth the case of the two contending Popes, and his own personal case in the matter. He reminded the King of what he had told him at Rochester before he took the archbishopric, that, as Abbot of Bec, he had acknowledged Urban, and that he could not withdraw from the obedience which he had pledged to him. William’s answer. The King, in great wrath, said that Anselm could not at once keep his faith towards himself and the obedience which without his leave he had promised to Urban.[1328] Position of Anselm towards Urban. Now, when Anselm pledged his obedience to Urban, he was not an English subject, and he needed no leave from the King of England for anything. He acknowledged Urban, as all the rest of Normandy acknowledged him. The obedience which he had thus pledged Anselm looked on as still personally binding on him, though his temporal allegiance was transferred to a kingdom where Urban was not acknowledged. William, not unnaturally, took no heed of Anselm’s personal obligations. Whatever the Abbot of Bec might have done, neither the Archbishop of Canterbury nor any other English subject could acknowledge any Pope without the King’s leave. After all, Anselm’s acknowledgement of Urban had not yet gone further than speaking of him as Pope. He had had no dealings with him of any kind. He indeed proposed to do an act which would have been the fullest acknowledgement of Urban’s claims. But he had proposed to do it only with the King’s leave. What he should do in case the King refused to give him leave to go, he had not said, very likely he had not settled in his own mind. He would do nothing contrary to his obedience to Urban; but as yet his obedience to Urban was wholly in theory. The King’s words now made it a practical question; any kind of adhesion to Urban was declared by the King’s own mouth to be inconsistent with the duties of one who was the man of the King of England.

Twofold duty of the Archbishop. Anselm, it is plain, was most anxious to do his duty alike as churchman and as subject. He saw no kind of inconsistency between the two. No such questions had been raised in the days of Lanfranc, and he had not done, or proposed to do, anything but what Lanfranc had done before him. Reasonably enough, he was not prepared to admit the King’s interpretation of the law which declared that he could not be the friend at once of Urban and of William. He asks for an assembly to discuss the question. And, in a thoroughly constitutional spirit, he demanded that the question should be referred to a lawful assembly of the kingdom. Let the bishops, abbots, and lay nobles come together, and let them decide whether the two duties were so inconsistent with each other as the King said they were.[1329] By their judgement on the point of law he would abide. Anselm’s purposes. If they ruled that it was as the King said, that obedience to Urban was inconsistent with allegiance to William, then he would shape his own course accordingly. He will leave the realm if he may not acknowledge Urban. If such should be their verdict, he could not abide in the land without either openly throwing off the obedience of Urban or else openly breaking his duty as subject and liegeman to William. He would do neither. In such a case he would leave the realm till such time as the King should acknowledge Urban.[1330] By that means he would avoid all breach of either duty. The case might well have been argued on another ground, whether it was not being righteous overmuch to bring back again, for the sake of a technical scruple of any kind, all the evils which would at once follow if the land were again left without an archbishop. Anselm’s answer would doubtless have been that he could not do evil that good might come. And it would be much clearer to the mind of Anselm than it would have been to the mind of any native Englishman that a withdrawal of obedience from Urban was the doing of evil. The feelings of Aosta, even the feelings of Bec, were not quite at home in the air of Gillingham. But the bringing in of foreign ideas, feelings, and scruples, was one of the necessary consequences of foreign conquest. Anselm obeyed his own conscience, and his conscience taught him as a conscience schooled at Aosta and Bec could not fail to teach him.

Frequency of assemblies under Rufus. To Anselm’s proposal for referring the matter to the Witan of the kingdom William made no objection. The Red King seems never to have had any objection to meeting either his great men or the general mass of his subjects. He was in truth so strong that every gathering of the kind became little more than a display of his power. But it is not easy to see why the question could not have been kept open till the ordinary Easter Gemót. Easter Gemót. March 25, 1095. That Gemót was held this year at Winchester, and, as we shall see in another chapter, matters of no small moment had to be treated in it. The King’s authority was beginning to be defied in northern England, and at this Easter it had to be asserted. A special meeting summoned. But, for whatever reason, it was determined that a special assembly should be summoned a fortnight before the regular meeting at Winchester, for the discussion of the particular point which had been raised between the King and the Archbishop. It illustrates the way in which the kings and great men of that time were always moving from place to place that a spot was chosen for the special meeting, far away from the spot where William and Anselm then were, far away from the place where the regular assembly was to be held so soon after. Gillingham and Winchester were comparatively near to each other; Assembly of Rockingham. March 11, 1095. but the assembly which was to give a legal judgement as to Anselm’s conflicting duties was summoned to meet on the second Sunday before Easter at the royal castle of Rockingham on the borders of Northamptonshire and Leicestershire, a place which had at least the merit of being one of the most central in England.

In the question which was now to be argued, there can be little doubt that the King was technically in the right, as the law was understood in his father’s time. The King technically right. By the custom of the Conqueror’s reign, no Pope could be acknowledged without the King’s leave; and, though Anselm had not taken any active or public step in acknowledgement of Urban, he had acknowledged him in words spoken to the King himself, and he had declared that he would not on any account withdraw his obedience from Urban. Moral estimate of his conduct. At the same time one can hardly conceive a more pettifogging way of interpreting the law, or a meaner way of abusing a legal power. There was no reasonable ground for refusing to acknowledge Urban, except on the theory that the deposition of Gregory and the election of Clement were valid. Urban represented the claims of Gregory; Clement still lived to assert his own claims. But though Lanfranc had used cautious language about the dispute,[1331] England and her King had never thought of acknowledging Clement or of withdrawing their allegiance from Gregory. Gregory had been the Conqueror’s Pope, as long as the two great ones both lived. Position of the rival Popes. And, if Clement’s election was void from the beginning, Gregory’s death could not make his right any better. Victor had succeeded Gregory, and Urban had succeeded Victor. There could be no excuse for objecting to Urban, except on a ground which William Rufus might have been glad to take up, but which he could not take up with any decency. He might, not unreasonably from his own point of view, have thrown himself into the Imperial cause, as the common cause of princes. But he could not do this without throwing blame on the conduct of his father. Or again, if he had tried, in any legal or regular way, either to limit the papal power like Henry the Second, or to cast it off altogether like Henry the Eighth, we at least, as we read the story, could not have blamed him. But it was not in the nature of William Rufus to do anything in a legal or regular way. It was not in him to take up any really intelligible counter position, either by getting rid of Popes altogether or by acknowledging the Imperial Pope. It is true that he might have found it hard to carry with him even his servile prelates, still harder to carry his lay nobles, in either of those courses. But then it was just as little in him honestly to take the third course which was open to him, by frankly acknowledging Urban. William’s treatment of the question. It pleased him better to play tricks with his claim to acknowledge popes, just as he played tricks with his claim to appoint bishops and abbots. To keep the question open, to give no reason on either side, but practically to hinder the acknowledgement of any pope, was a more marked exercise of his own arbitrary will than if he had ruled the disputed question either way. But, just as he was ready to fill up a bishopric as soon as he thought it worth his while in point of money, so he was quite ready to acknowledge a pope as soon as it seemed worth his while to do so, in point either of policy or of spite. No real objection to Urban on his part. All this while he had not the slightest real objection to acknowledge Urban. Either now or very soon after, he was actually intriguing with Urban, in hopes of carrying his point against Anselm by his means.

And now the Assembly came together which was to declare the law of England as to the point in dispute between Anselm and the King. Position of Rockingham. It was not gathered in any of the great cities, or under the shadow of any of the great minsters, of the realm. Nor yet was it gathered, as some councils were gathered before and after, in one of those spots which were simply the seats of the King’s silvan pleasures. Rockingham, placed on the edge of the forest which bears its name, the wooded ground between the sluggish streams of Nen and Welland, was preeminently a hunting-seat; but it was not merely a hunting-seat; it was also a fortress. History of the place. As in so many cases, the Norman, in this case the Conqueror himself, had seized and adapted to his own use the home and the works of the Englishman. On a height just within the borders of Northamptonshire, looking forth across the valley of the Welland over the Danish land to the north, the Englishman Bofig had in King Eadward’s days held sac and soc in his lordship of Rockingham. His dwelling-place, like those of other English thegns, crowned a mound on a site strong by nature, and which the skill of Norman engineers was to change into a site strong by art. In the havoc which fell upon Northampton, borough and shire, when William went forth to subdue the Mercian land,[1332] the home of Bofig had become waste; and on that waste spot the King The castle. ordered a castle to be built.[1333] At Rockingham, as almost everywhere else, we find works earlier and later than the time of our story, but nothing that we can positively assign to the days of either William. There is no keep, as at Bridgenorth and at Oxford, which we can assign to any of the known actors in our tale. The mound of Bofig is yoked on to a series of buildings of various dates, from the thirteenth century to the sixteenth. But we can still trace the line of the walls and ditches which the Conqueror or his successors added as new defences to the primitive mound and its primitive ditch. Art and nature together have made the site almost peninsular; but a considerable space, occupied by the parish church and by the town which has sunk to a village, lies between the castle and the stream that flows beneath the height. Description of the site. The site is a lordly one, and is almost the more striking because it commands no other great object such as those which are commanded by those castles which were raised to protect or to keep down a city. When the forest was still a forest in every sense of the word, the aspect of the castle of Rockingham, one of the wilder retreats of English kingship, must have been at once lonelier and busier than it is now.

Meeting of the Assembly. March 11, 1095. At Rockingham then the Assembly met, a fortnight before Easter. The immediate place of meeting was the church within the castle.[1334] The church has perished, but its probable site may be traced among the buildings to the north of the mound. But it is hard to understand Place of meeting; the castle-chapel.how the narrow space of a castle-chapel could hold the great gathering which came together at Rockingham. The King and his immediate counsellors sat apart in a separate chamber, while outside were a numerous body, The King’s inner council. which is also spoken of as a vast crowd of monks, clerks, and laymen.[1335] It may be that, according to an arrangement which is sometimes found elsewhere, but of which there is no present trace at Rockingham, the great hall opened into the chapel, so that, while the church was formally the place of meeting, the greater space of the hall would be open to receive the overflowing crowd.[1336] Early hours of the assembly. The time of meeting was the early morning; a midnight sitting of the Wise Men was an unknown thing in those days. The King sat within in the outer space, whatever was its nature, Anselm’s opening speech. Anselm addressed the assembly, calling forth the bishops and lords from the presence-chamber to hear him. We must remember that, in the absence of the King, he was the first man in the Assembly and its natural leader. He laid his case before his hearers. He had asked leave of the King to go to Pope Urban for his pallium. The King had told him that to acknowledge Urban or any one else as Pope without his leave was the same thing as trying to take his crown from him. The King had added that faith to him and obedience to Urban were two things which could not go together; Anselm could not practise both at once. It was this point which the Assembly had come together to decide; it was on this point that their counsel was needed. He states his case. He bade his hearers remember that he had not sought the archbishopric, that in truth he would gladly have been burned alive rather than take it.[1337] They had themselves forced him into the office—the bishops certainly had in a literal and even physical sense. It was for them now to help him with their counsel, to lessen thereby the burthen which they themselves had laid on his shoulder.[1338] He appealed to all, he specially appealed to his brother bishops, to weigh the matter carefully, and to decide. Could he at once keep his plighted faith to the King and his plighted obedience to the Pope? It was a grave matter to sin against either duty. Could not both duties be observed without any breach of either?

The real point avoided on the King’s side. This was indeed the question which the Assembly was brought together to consider and to decide. The meeting had been called, at Anselm’s own request, to inform him on the point of law, whether he could acknowledge Urban without disloyalty to William. But during a long debate of two days, that real issue is never touched, till Anselm himself calls back men’s minds to the real object of their coming together. Assumption of the King’s party against Anselm. It is assumed throughout by the King and the King’s party that the point of law is already settled in the sense unfavourable to Anselm, that Anselm has done something contrary to his allegiance to the King, that He is treated as an accused person. he is there as an accused man for trial, almost as a convicted man for sentence. That he is a member of the Assembly, the highest subject in the Assembly, that the whole object of the meeting is to decide a question in which the King and his highest subject understand the law in different ways, seems not to come into the head of any of the King’s immediate counsellors. Conduct of the bishops. Least of all does it come into the heads of the bishops, the class of men who play the most prominent and the least creditable part in the story.

Answer of the bishops. To Anselm’s question then the bishops were the first to make answer. They are spoken of throughout as acting in a body; but they must have had some spokesman. That spokesman could not have been the Bishop of Durham, who must surely have been sitting with the King in his inner council. William of Saint-Calais comes on the scene afterwards, but no bishop is mentioned by name at this stage. The answer of the episcopal body was not cheering. The Archbishop had no need of their counsel. He was a man prudent in God and a lover of goodness, and could settle such points better than they could. If he would throw himself wholly on the King’s will, then they would give him their advice;[1339] or they would, if he wished, go in and report his words to the King. The meeting adjourned till Monday. They did so; and Rufus, with a scruple which one would rather have looked for from Anselm, ordered that, as the day was Sunday, the discussion should be adjourned to the morrow. Anselm was to go to his own quarters, and to appear again in the morning. One might like to know where, not only the Archbishop, but the whole host of visitors at times like this, found quarters. Unless they were all the King’s guests in the castle, and Meeting of Monday, March 12.filled its nooks and corners how they might, it must have been much harder to find lodgings at Rockingham than it was at Gloucester. Monday morning came; Anselm, with his faithful reporter Eadmer, went to the place of meeting. Anselm and the bishops. Sitting in the midst of the whole Assembly,[1340] he told the bishops, as it would seem, that he was ready to receive the advice which he had asked for yesterday. They counsel unreserved submission. They again answered that they had nothing to say but what they had said yesterday; they had no advice to give him, unless he was ready to throw himself wholly on the King’s will. If he drew distinctions and reservations, if he pleaded any call on behalf of God to do anything against the King’s will, they would give him no help.[1341] So low had the prelacy of England fallen under the administration of Rufus and Flambard. Position of the bishops. Neither as priests of God, nor as Witan of the realm, nor simply as freemen of the land, was there any strength or counsel in them. Their answer seems almost to imply that they cast aside the common decencies, not only of prelates but of Christian men, that they fully accepted the ruling of their sovereign, that the will of God was not to be put into comparison with the will of the King. Anselm makes no exclusive claims. Anselm is not doing like some before and after him, not even like his chief enemy in the present gathering. He is not asserting any special privilege for his order; he is not appealing from a court within the realm to any foreign jurisdiction. He asks for counsel how he may reconcile his duty to God with his duty to the King; and the answer he gets is that he has nothing to do but to submit to the King’s will; the law of God, and seemingly the law of England with it, are to go for nothing. But there was at least some shame left in them; when they had given their answer, they held their peace and hung down their heads, as if waiting for what Anselm might lay upon them.[1342] His second speech. Then the Primate spoke, seemingly not rising from his seat, but with uplifted eyes, with solemn voice, with a face all alive with feeling.[1343] He looked at the chiefs of Church and State, prelates and nobles, and told them that if they, shepherds and princes,[1344] could give no counsel save according to the will of one man, he must betake him to the Shepherd and Prince of all. That Shepherd and Prince had given a charge and authority to Peter first, and after him to the other Apostles, to the Vicar of Peter first and after him to all other bishops, a charge and authority which He had not given to any temporal prince, Count, Duke, King, or Emperor.[1345] His two duties. He owed a duty to his temporal prince, for the Lord had bidden him to render to Cæsar the things that were Cæsar’s. But he was bidden also to render to God the things that were God’s. He would, to the best of his power, obey both commands. He must give obedience to the Vicar of Peter in the things of God; in those things which belonged to the earthly dignity of his lord the King, he would ever give his lord his faithful counsel and help, according to the measure of his power.

Position of England towards the Popes. The words are calm and dignified, the words of a man who, forsaken by all, had no guide left but the light within him. There is indeed a ring about some of Anselm’s sayings which is not pleasing in English ears; we may doubt whether Dunstan would have drawn the distinction which was drawn by Anselm. And yet that distinction comes to no more than the undoubted truth that we should obey God rather than man. The only question was whether obedience to Pope Urban was a necessary part of obedience to God. The foreign clergy doubtless held stronger views of papal authority than had been known of old in England; but we may be sure that every man, native or foreign, held that the Bishop of Rome had some claim on his reverence, if not on his obedience. The ancient custom that an English archbishop should go to him for the pallium shows it of itself. The craven bishops themselves would, if secretly pressed by their consciences or their confessors, have spoken in all things as Anselm spoke. And there was one hard by, if not present in that company, yet within the wall of the same castle, who had gone many steps further Romeward than Anselm went. Anselm and William of Saint-Calais. Closeted with the King, caballing with him against the man of God, was Bishop William of Durham, the man who had openly appealed to the Pope from the sentence of an English court, the man who had openly refused to Cæsar what was most truly Cæsar’s, who had denied the right of the King and Witan of England to judge a bishop, even in the most purely temporal causes.[1346] Anselm had made no such appeal; he had made no such exclusive claims; it is needless to say that he did not, like William of Saint-Calais, take to the policy of obstruction, that he did not waste the time of the assembly by raising petty points of law, or subtle questions as to the befitting dress of its members.[1347] Anselm was a poor Papist, one might almost say a poor churchman, beside that still recent phase of the bishop who had now fully learned that the will of God was not to be thought of when it clashed with the will of the King. Anselm not the first to appeal to Rome. It was not Anselm, but the man who sought to supplant Anselm, who had taken the first and greatest step towards the establishment of foreign and usurped jurisdictions within the realm.

Answer of the bishops. The bishops heard the answer of their Primate. They rose troubled and angry; they talked confusedly to one another; they seemed as if they were pronouncing Anselm to be guilty of death.[1348] They turned to him in wrath; they told him that they would not carry to the King such a message as that, and they went out to the room where the King was. But it was right that the King should know what Anselm’s answer had been. Anselm had no one whom he could send on such an errand; it was not in his nature to thrust another into the mouth of the lion when he could brave the danger himself. Anselm goes in to the King. He went into the presence-chamber; he repeated his own words to the King, and at once withdrew. The wrath of William was kindled; he took counsel with the bishops and the nobles of his party, to see what answer he could make; but they found none. As in the hall at Lillebonne, when the Conqueror put forth his plan for the invasion of England,[1349] men were to be seen talking together by threes and fours, seeking for something to say which might at once soften the King’s wrath and at the same time not directly deny the doctrine set forth by Anselm.[1350] Anselm asleep. They were long over their discussion; the subject of their debates meanwhile sat leaning against the wall of the place of meeting, in a gentle sleep.[1351] He was awakened by the entrance of the bishops, accompanied by some of the lay nobles, charged with a message from the King. The King’s message. His lord the King bade him at once, laying aside all other words—the words, one would think, of dreamland so cruelly broken in upon—to hear, and to give his answer with all speed.[1352] Advice of the bishops. They had not as yet to announce any solemn judgement of the King and his Witan; their words still took the form of advice; but it was advice which was meant to be final and decisive.[1353] As for the matters which had been talked about between him and the King at Gillingham, the matter for whose decision he had sought the present adjournment, the matter at issue was plain and easy. The whole realm was complaining of the Archbishop, because he was striving to take away from the common lord of all of them his crown, the glory of his Empire. For he who seeks to take away the King’s dignities and customs seeks to take away his crown; the one cannot be without the other.[1354] Anselm to submit to the King in all things. They counselled Anselm at once to throw aside all obedience and submission to Urban, who could do him no good, and who, if he only made his peace with the King, could do him no harm. Let him be free, as an Archbishop of Canterbury should be in all his doings; as free, let him wait for the will and bidding of the King in all things.[1355] Let him, like a wise man, confess his fault and ask for pardon; then should his enemies who now mocked at his misfortunes, be put to shame as they saw him again lifted up in honour.[1356]

Such was the advice which the stranger bishops of England, with such of the stranger nobles as acted with them, gave to the stranger Primate. Such was their prayer, such was their counsel; such was the course which they insisted on as needful for Anselm and for all who held with him. Their definition of freedom. Among those was the true Englishman who wrote down their words, and who must have smiled over the definition of freedom which, even in their mouths, has a sound of sarcasm. Anselm will not reject Urban. Anselm said that, to speak of nothing else, he could not cast aside his obedience to the Pope. But it was evening; let there be an adjournment till the morrow; then he would speak as God should bid him.[1357] The bishops deemed either that he knew not what more to say or else that he was beginning to yield through fear.[1358] They went back to the King, and urged him that the adjournment should not be allowed, but that, as the matter had been discussed enough, if Anselm would not agree to their counsel, the formal judgement of the Assembly should be at once pronounced against him.[1359]

William of Saint-Calais. And now for the first time we come across a distinct mention of an individual actor, standing out with a marked personality from the general mass of the assembled Witan. Foremost on the King’s side, the chosen spokesman of his master, was the very man who had gone so far beyond Anselm, who had forestalled Thomas himself, in asserting the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Rome within this realm of England. William of Saint-Calais, who, when it suited his purpose, had appealed to the Pope, who had been so anxious to go to the Pope, but who, when he had the means of going, had never gone, stood now fully ready to carry out the Imperial teaching that what seems good to the prince has the force of law. His schemes against Anselm. This man, so ready of speech—that we have seen long ago—but, in Eadmer’s eyes at least, not rich in any true wisdom, was all this time stirring the King up to wrath against Anselm, and doing all that he could to widen the breach between them.[1360] He aspires to the archbishopric. Men believed, on Anselm’s side at least, that his object was to bring about the Archbishop’s deprivation or resignation by any means, in hopes that he might himself succeed him.[1361] Was this mere surmise, or had the Bishop of Durham any solid ground for looking forward to a translation to Canterbury? Had he the needful means? William of Saint-Calais was not a servant of the King’s to make a fortune in his service, like Randolf Flambard or Robert Bloet. He had risen, like Anselm himself, through the ranks of monk, prior, abbot, and bishop. But so too had Herbert Losinga, who had managed to buy a bishopric for himself and an abbey for his father. William of Saint-Calais had since his consecration spent three years in banishment while his bishopric was in the King’s hands. Still he may, during his two terms of possession before and after, have screwed enough out of the patrimony of Saint Cuthberht to pay even the vast price at which the archbishopric would doubtless be valued. Or he may have fondly dreamed that, if Anselm could be got rid of by his means, the service would be deemed so great as to entitle him to Anselm’s place as a free gift. Anyhow he worked diligently on the King’s behalf. We are told—and the picture is not out of character—that Objects of the King. Rufus wished to get rid of Anselm as the representative within his realm of another power than his own. He deemed himself to be no full king as long as there was any one who put the will of God before the will of the King, or who named the name of God as a power to which even the King must yield.[1362] In his hatred to Anselm, he hoped to carry one of two points. Either the Archbishop would abjure the Pope, and would abide in the land a dishonoured man who had given up the cause for which he strove. Or else, if he still clave to the Pope, the King would then have a reasonable excuse for driving him out of the kingdom.

To these intrigues of the blaspheming King the Bishop of Durham was not ashamed to lend himself. He recked nothing of the dishonour under which it was thought that Anselm would hardly bear to live. Bishop William’s promises to the King. He promised to the King that he would bring about one of two things; either the Archbishop should renounce the Pope, or else he should formally resign the archbishopric by restoring the ring and staff.[1363] Now seemingly was the time to press him, when he was weary with the day’s work and sought for a respite, when his enemies were beginning to hope that, either through fear or weariness, he would be driven to yield. So the bishops again went back from the King to the Archbishop, with him of Durham as their leader and spokesman. The time-server made his speech to the man of God. His speech to Anselm. “Hear the King’s complaint against you. He says that, as far as lies in your power, you have robbed him of his dignity by making Odo Bishop of Ostia”—William of Saint-Calais had had other names for him in an earlier assembly—“Pope in his England[1364] without his bidding. Having so robbed him, you ask for an adjournment that you may devise arguments to prove that that robbery is just. Rather, if you please, clothe him again with the dignify of his Empire,[1365] and then talk about an adjournment. Otherwise know that he will invoke the wrath of Almighty God upon himself, and we his liegemen will have to make ourselves sharers in the curse, if he grants you an adjournment of an hour. Wherefore at once make answer to the words of our lord, or else expect presently a judgement which shall chastise your presumption. Do not think that all this is a mere joke; we are driven on by the pricks of a heavy grievance.[1366] Nor is it wonderful. For that which your lord and ours claims as the chief thing in his whole dominion, that in which it is allowed that he surpasses all other kings,[1367] that you unjustly take away from him as far as lies in your power, and by taking it away you throw scorn on the oath which you have sworn to him, and plunge all his friends into this distress.”

William’s Imperial claim. Here are forms of words which may make us stop to study them. In this speech, and in the one which went before it, we see the ground on which William founded a claim to which he attached such special importance. It was not merely the King of the English, it was the Basileus of Britain, the Cæsar of the island world, whose dignity was deemed to be touched. To allow or to refuse the acknowledgement of Popes is here declared by William of Saint-Calais to be no part of the prerogative of a mere king; it is spoken of as the special attribute of Empire. He who, alone among Christian princes, knew no superior either in the elder or the younger Rome, was alone entitled to judge how far the claims of the Pontiff of one world should be acknowledged in another. This sole claim to Imperial power on behalf of the Monarch of all Britain[1368] might have been disputed in the last age in Bulgaria and in the next age in Castile; at that moment William of England was without a rival. He might even, if he chose to take up Anselm’s line of argument, bear himself as more truly Imperial than the German king whose Roman crown had been placed on his head by a schismatic pontiff. William and the vassal kingdoms. And yet at no moment since the day when Scot and Briton and Northman bowed to Eadward the Unconquered had the Emperor of the Isle of Albion been less of an Emperor than when Anselm met the Red King at Rockingham. The younger William had indeed fallen away from the dominion of the father who had received the homage at Abernethy and had made the pilgrimage to Saint David’s. The Welsh were in open and triumphant revolt; the Scots had driven out the king that he had given them. His ill-success at this moment. The Welsh had broken down his castles; the Scots had declared their land to be barred against all William’s subjects, French and English.[1369] True he was girding himself up for great efforts against both enemies; but those efforts had not yet been made. William was just then as far away as a man could be from deserving his father’s surnames of the Conqueror and the Great. At such a moment, we may really believe that he would feel special annoyance at anything which might be construed as casting doubt even in theory on claims which he found it so hard to assert in practice. In the moment of his first great success in England, there had been less to bring the wider and loftier side of his dominion before his mind. He had thought less of his right to allow or to refuse the acknowledgement of Popes in the days when the regale was asserted by Lanfranc and the pontificale by William of Saint-Calais, than he thought now that the regale was asserted by William of Saint-Calais and the pontificale by Anselm.

The shamelessness of the words of William of Saint-Calais in the mouth of William of Saint-Calais might have stirred even the meek Anselm to wrath. But he bore all with patience; he only seized, with all the skill of his scholastic training, on the palpable fallacy of the Bishop’s argument. The real question hitherto evaded. The Assembly had come together to discuss and settle a point of law. Was the duty which Anselm professed towards the Pope inconsistent or not with the duty which he no less fully acknowledged towards the King? On that point not only had no judgement been given, but no arguments either way had been heard. Messages had gone to and fro; Anselm had been implored, advised, threatened; but prayers, advice, and threats had all assumed that the point which they had all come there to discuss had already been ruled in the sense unfavourable to Anselm. William of Saint-Calais could talk faster than Anselm; but, as he had not Anselm’s principle, so neither had he Anselm’s logic. Anselm saw both his intellectual and his moral advantage. Anselm’s challenge. His answer to the Bishop of Durham took the shape of a challenge. “If there be any man who wishes to prove that, because I will not give up my obedience towards the venerable chief Pontiff of the holy Roman Church, I thereby break the faith and oath which I owe to my earthly King, let him stand forth, and, in the name of the Lord, he will find me ready to answer him where I ought and as I ought.” He states the real case. The real issue was thus at last stated; Anselm demanded that the thing should at last be done which the Assembly had been called for the very purpose of doing. The bishops were puzzled, as they well might be; they looked at one another, but no one had anything to say; so they went back to their lord.[1370] Our guide however puts thoughts into their hearts which Anselm had certainly not uttered, which his position in no way implied, and which one is tempted to think that both Anselm and Eadmer first heard of in later times when they came to talk with a pope face to face. New position of the bishops. The bishops, we are told, remembered, what they had not thought of before, that an Archbishop of Canterbury could not be judged on any charge by any judge except the Pope.[1371] This may be so far true as that William of Saint-Calais may have remembered the day when he had urged those very claims on behalf, not only of an Archbishop of Canterbury, but of a Bishop of Durham. If the other bishops had any such sudden enlightenment, they did well to keep their new light to themselves. The doctrine that no one but a Pope could judge the Archbishop, combined with the doctrine that there could be no Pope in England without the King’s leave, amounted, during the present state of things, to a full licence to the Archbishop to do anything that he might think good.

Meanwhile things were taking a new turn in the outer place of assembly. There a state of mind very unlike that of the King’s inner council began to show itself. There were those, as there will always be in every gathering of men, whose instinct led them to insult and trample on one who seemed to be falling. By such men threats, revilings, slanders of every kind, were hurled at the Archbishop, Anselm insulted. as he sat peacefully waking and sleeping, while William of Saint-Calais marched to and fro at the head of his episcopal troop. But threats and revilings were not the only voices that Anselm heard. Popular feeling on his side. The feeling of the great mass of the assembly was with him. Well might it be so. Englishmen still abiding on their own soil, Normans who on English soil were growing into Englishmen, men who had brought with them the spirit which had made the Conqueror himself pause on the day of Lillebonne, were not minded to see the assembly of the nation turned into a mere tool to carry out a despot’s will. They were not minded that the man whose cause they had come together to judge according to law should be judged without law by a time-serving cabal of the King’s creatures. English thegns, Norman knights, were wrought in another mould from the simoniacal bishops of William’s court. A spirit began to stir among them like the spirit of the old times, the spirit of the day which called back Godwine to his earldom and drove Robert of Jumièges from his archbishopric. When Anselm spoke and William of Saint-Calais stood abashed and speechless, the general feeling of the assembly went with the man who was ready to trust his cause to the event of a fair debate, against the man who could do nothing but take for granted over and over again the very question which they had come there to argue. There went through the hall that deep, low murmur which shows that the heart of a great assembly is stirring and that it will before long find some means of clearer utterance. But for a while no man dared to speak openly for fear—it is Eadmer’s word—of the tyrant.[1372] At last a spokesman was found. A knight—we should gladly know his name and race and dwelling-place—stepped Anselm and the knight. forth from the crowd and knelt at the feet of Anselm,[1373] with the words, “Father and lord, through me your suppliant children pray you not to let your heart be troubled at what you have heard; remember how the blessed Job vanquished the devil on his dunghill, and avenged Adam whom he had vanquished in paradise.” Anselm received his words with a pleased and cheerful look; for he now knew that the heart of the people was with him. “Vox populi vox Dei.” And his true companions rejoiced also, and grew calmer in their minds, knowing the scripture—so our guide tells us—that the voice of the people is the voice of God.[1374] Perplexity of the King. While a native English heart was thus carried back to the feelings of bygone times, the voice of the stranger King, to whom God was as a personal enemy, was speaking in another tone. His hopes had utterly broken down; his loyal bishops had made promises to him which they had been unable to fulfil. When he heard how popular feeling was turning towards Anselm, he was angered beyond measure, to the very rending asunder of his soul.[1375] His speech to the bishops. He turned to his bishops in wrath. “What is this? Did you not promise that you would deal with him altogether according to my will, that you would judge him, that you would condemn him?” William of Saint-Calais breaks down. The boasted wisdom, the very flow of speech, of their leader the Bishop of Durham now failed him; he spoke as one from whom all sense and reason had gone away.[1376] The assembly adjourned. All that he could say who had so lately with curses and threats refused Anselm’s plea for an adjournment was to propose an adjournment himself. It was night; let Anselm be bidden to go to his own quarters; they, the bishops, would spend the night in thinking over what Anselm had said, and in devising an answer on the King’s behalf.[1377] The assembly was accordingly prorogued till the next morning, and Anselm went to his own quarters, uncondemned, with his cause as yet unheard and unanswered, but comforted doubtless that he had put his enemies to silence, and that he had learned that the hearts of the people were with him.

March 13, 1095. Tuesday morning came, and Anselm and his companions took their seats in the accustomed place,[1378] awaiting the King’s bidding. That bidding was slow in coming. The debates in the King’s closet were perplexed. Debates in the inner council. The King and his inner counsellors were working hard to find some excuse for the condemnation of Anselm. The King asked the Bishop of Durham how he had passed the night;[1379] but the night thoughts of William of Saint-Calais, sleeping or waking, did not bring much help to the royal cause. He confessed that he could find no way to answer Anselm’s argument, all the more because it rested on holy writ and the authority of Saint Peter. We must always remember that the texts which Anselm quoted, and the interpretation which he put upon them, were in no way special to himself. Every one acknowledged them; William of Saint-Calais recommends force. William of Saint-Calais had appealed to them when it suited his purpose to do so. But the bishop who had once laid the lands of northern England waste could recommend force when reason failed. He whose dealings towards the King in whose cause he was now working had been likened to the deed of Judas was now ready to play Judas over again towards the Patriarch of all the nations beyond the sea. “My counsel,” he said in plain words, “is that he be put down by force;[1380] if he will not consent to the King’s will, let the ring and staff be taken from him, and let him be driven from the kingdom.” The lay nobles refuse. This short way of dealing with the Archbishop, proposed by the man who had once argued that none but the Pope could judge any bishop, suited the temper of the King; it did not suit the temper of the lay nobles. Many of them had great crimes of their own to repent of; but they could see what was right when others were to practise it. Besides Anselm was in one way their own chief; if they were great feudatories of the kingdom, so was he, the highest in rank among them. The doctrine that the first vassal of the kingdom was to be stripped of his fief at the King’s pleasure might be dangerous to earls as well as to bishops. The lay nobles refused their consent to the violent scheme of the Bishop of Durham. Speech of the King. The King turned fiercely on them. “If this does not please you, what does please you? While I live, I will not put up with an equal in my kingdom.” Speaking confusedly, it would seem, to bishops and barons alike, he asked, “If you knew that he had such strong grounds for his cause, why did you let me begin the suit against him? Go, consult, for, by God’s face, if you do not condemn him according to my will, I will condemn you.”[1381] The common spokesman was found in him whose counsel was held to be as the oracle of God.[1382] Speech of Robert of Meulan. Count Robert of Meulan spoke, and his speech was certainly a contrast to that of Bishop William, though both alike, these two special counsellors, confessed that Anselm had been too much for them. “All day long were we putting together counsels with all our might, and consulting how our counsels might hang together, and meanwhile he, thinking no evil back again, sleeps, and, when our devices are brought out, with one touch of his lips he breaks them like a spider’s web.”[1383]

The King and the bishops. When the temporal lords, the subtlest of counsellors among them, thus failed him, the King again turned to his lords spiritual. “And you, my bishops, what do you say?” They answered, but their spokesman this time is not mentioned; Bishop William, it would seem, had tried and had failed. They were grieved that they could not satisfy the pleasure of their lord. Anselm was Primate, not only of the kingdom of England, but of Scotland, Ireland, and the neighbouring islands—lands to which William’s power most certainly did not reach at that moment. They were his suffragans;[1384] they could not with any reason judge or condemn him, even if any crime could be shown against him, and now no crime could be shown. “What then,” asks William, “can be done?” The king bids the bishops withdraw their obedience from Anselm. The question was answered by a suggestion of his own, one which sounds as if it really were his own, and not the device of Bishop William or Count Robert. If the bishops could not judge him, could they not withdraw from him all obedience and brotherly friendship? This, they said, if he commanded it, they could do. It is not clear by what right they could withdraw their obedience from a superior whom they could not judge; but both king and bishops were satisfied. The bishops were to go and do the business at once; when Anselm saw that he was left alone, he would be ashamed, and would groan that he had ever forsaken his lord to follow Urban.[1385] He withdraws his protection. And, that they might do this the more safely, the King added that he now withdrew from Anselm all protection throughout his Empire, that he would not listen to or acknowledge him in any cause,[1386] that he would no longer hold him for his archbishop or ghostly father. Though the King’s commandment was urgent, the bishops still stayed to devise other devices against Anselm; yet found they none. The bishops and abbots carry the message. At last the bishops, now taking with them the abbots, a class of whom we have not hitherto heard in the story, went out and announced to Anselm at once their own withdrawal of obedience and friendship and the King’s withdrawal of protection. The Archbishop’s answer was a mild one. They did wrong to withdraw their obedience and friendship where it was due, merely because he would not withdraw his where it was also due. But he would not deal by them as they dealt by him. Anselm’s answer. He would still show them the love of a brother and a father; he would do what he could for them, as brethren and sons of the church of Canterbury, to bring them back from their error into the right way. And whereas the King withdrew from him all protection and would no longer acknowledge him as father and archbishop, he would still discharge to the King every earthly duty that lay upon him, and, so far as the King would let him,[1387] he would still do his duty for the care of the King’s soul. Only he would, for God’s service, still keep the name, power, and office, of Archbishop of Canterbury, whatever might be the oppression in outward things that it might bring upon him.

The King turns again to the lay lords. His words were reported to the King.[1388] We are again admitted to witness the scene in the presence-chamber. The bishops had proved broken reeds; William would make one more appeal to the lay nobles. “Everything that he says,” began the King, “is against my pleasure, and no one shall be my man who chooses to be his.[1389] Wherefore, you who are the great men of my kingdom, do you, as the bishops have done, withdraw from him all faith and friendship, that he may know how little he gains by the faith which he keeps to the Apostolic See in defiance of my will.” But the lay lords were not like the bishops; one would like to know by what mouth they made their calm and logical answer. They drew a clear distinction between spiritual and temporal allegiance. The King had told them that no one could be his man and the Archbishop’s at once, and he had bidden them to withdraw their faith—clearly using the word in the feudal sense—from the Archbishop. The lay lords support Anselm. They answered that they were not the Archbishop’s men, that they could not withdraw from him a fealty which they had never paid to him. This of course was true of the lay nobles as a body, whatever questions there might be about Tunbridge castle or any other particular fief. But they went on to say that, though Anselm was not their lord, yet he was their archbishop, that it was he who had to “govern Christianity” in the land; that, as Christian men, they could not, while in that land, decline his mastership, all the more as there was no spot of offence in him which should make the King treat him in any other way.[1390] The King’s difficulties. Such an answer naturally stirred up William’s wrath; but the earls and great barons of his kingdom were a body with whom even he could not dare to trifle. He was stronger than any one among them; he might not be stronger than all of them together, backed as they now were, as the events of the day before had shown, by popular feeling. He had once beaten the Norman nobles at the head of the English people; he might not be able to beat the Norman nobles and the English people together. He therefore made an effort, and kept down any open outburst of the wrath that was in him.[1391] But the bishops were covered with confusion;Shame of the bishops. they felt that all eyes were turned on them, and that their apostasy was loathed of all.[1392] This and that bishop was greeted, seemingly by this or that earl or baron, with the names usual in such cases, Judas, Pilate, and Herod.[1393] The King further examines the bishops. Then the King put the trembling bishops through another examination. Had they abjured all obedience to Anselm, or only such obedience as he claimed by the authority of the Roman Pontiff?[1394] The question was hard to answer. Anselm does not seem to have claimed any obedience by virtue of the authority of the Pope; he had simply refused to withdraw his own obedience from the Pope. Some therefore answered one way, some another. But it was soon plain which way the King wished them to answer. The real question in William’s mind had nothing to do with the Pope; any subtlety about acknowledging this or that Pope was a mere excuse. It was Anselm himself, as the servant of God, the man who spake of righteousness and temperance and judgement to come, that Rufus loathed and sought to crush. Those bishops therefore who said that they had abjured Anselm’s obedience utterly and without condition were at once bidden to sit down as his friends in seats of honour.[1395] His treatment of them. Those who said that they had abjured only such obedience as was claimed by the Pope’s authority, were sent, like naughty children, into a corner of the room, to wait, as traitors and enemies, for their sentence of condemnation.[1396] But they debated among themselves in their corner, and soon found the means of winning back the royal favour. A heavy bribe, paid at once or soon after, wiped out even the crime of drawing distinctions while withdrawing their obedience from a metropolitan whom the King hated.[1397]

Anselm wishes to leave England. While his suffragans were undergoing this singular experience of the strength of the secular arm, Anselm sent a message to the King. He now asked that, as all protection within the kingdom was withdrawn from him, the King would give him and his companions a safe-conduct to one of his havens, that he might go out of the realm till such a time as God might be pleased to put an end to the present distress.[1398] Perplexity of the King. The King was much troubled and perplexed. He wished of all things for Anselm to leave the kingdom; but he feared the greater scandal which would arise if he left the kingdom while still in possession of the archbishopric, while he saw no way of depriving him of it.[1399] He again took counsel; but this time he did not trouble the bishops for their advice. Of them he had had enough; it was their counsel which had brought him into his present strait.[1400] He once more turned to the lay lords. Another adjournment. They advised yet another adjournment. The Archbishop should go back to his own quarters in the King’s full peace,[1401] and should come again in the morning to hear the King’s answer to his petition. Many of the King’s immediate courtiers were troubled; they groaned at the thought of Anselm’s leaving the land.[1402] But he himself went gladly and cheerfully to his lodgings, hoping to cross the sea and to cast off all his troubles and all the burthens of the world.[1403]

Wednesday, March 14, 1095.
Anselm summoned to the King’s presence. The fourth day of the meeting came, and the way in which its business opened marks how the tide was turning in Anselm’s favour. A body of the nobles came straight from the King, asking the Primate to come to the royal presence.[1404] Anselm was tossed to and fro between the hope of leaving the kingdom and the fear of staying in it. Eadmer was eager to know what would be the end of the whole matter.[1405] They set forth and reached the castle. They were not however, at first at least, admitted to the presence-chamber, but sat in their wonted place. Before long the lay nobles, accompanied by some of the bishops, came to Anselm. They were grieved, they said, as old friends of his, that there had been any dispute between him and the King. The lay lords propose a “truce.” Their object was to heal the breach, and they held that the best means towards that object was to agree to an adjournment—a truce, a peace[1406]—till a fixed day, during which time both sides should agree to do nothing which could be counted as a breach of the peace. Anselm agreed, though he said that he knew what kind of peace it would be.[1407] But it should not be said of him that he preferred his own judgement to that of others. To all that his lord the King and they might appoint in the name of God he would agree,[1408] saving only his obedience to Pope Urban. Adjournment till May 20. The lords approved; the King agreed; he pledged his honour to the observance of the peace till the appointed day, the octave of Pentecost. The day seems to have been chosen in order that the other business of the Whitsun Gemót might be got over before the particular case of Anselm came on. If matters had not been brought to an agreement before that time, the case was to begin again exactly at the stage in which it had left off at Rockingham.[1409] It is not clear whether, even at this last moment, William and Anselm again met face to face. But the Archbishop, by the King’s leave, went to Canterbury, knowing that the truce was but an idle and momentary veiling of hatred and of oppression that was to come.[1410]

Importance of the meeting at Rockingham. So it soon proved; yet the scene at Rockingham was a victory, not only for a moment but for ever. No slight step had been taken in the great march of English freedom, when Anselm, whom the King had sought to condemn without trial or indictment, went back, with his own immediate case indeed unsolved, but free, uncondemned, untried, with the voice of the people loud in his favour, while the barons of the realm declared him free from every crime. It was no mean day in English history when a king, a Norman king, the proudest and fiercest of Norman kings, was taught that there were limits to his will. It is like a foreshadowing of brighter days to come when the Primate of all England, backed by the barons and people of England—for on that day the very strangers and conquerors deserved that name—overcame the Red King and his time-serving bishops. The day of Rockingham has the fullest right to be marked with white in the kalendar in which we enter the day of Runnymede and the day of Lewes.

The honour of the chivalrous King was pledged to the peace with Anselm. But the honour of the chivalrous King was construed after a truly chivalrous fashion. William keeps faith to Anselm personally. William doubtless thought that he was doing all that a true knight could be expected to do, if he kept himself from any personal injury to the man to whom he had personally pledged his faith. Anselm was unhurt; he was free; he went whither he would; he discharged the ordinary duties of his office undisturbed; it does not appear that he was in any way personally molested, or that any of the property of his see was taken into the King’s hands. But William knew full well how to wreak his malice upon Anselm without breaking the letter of the faith which he had pledged. He knew how to grieve Anselm’s loving heart far more deeply than it could be grieved by any wrong done to himself. He oppresses his friends. The honour of the good knight was pledged to Anselm personally; it was not pledged to Anselm’s friends and tenants. Towards them he might, without breach of honour, play the greedy and merciless king. A few days after Anselm had reached Canterbury, Rufus sent to drive out of England the Archbishop’s cherished friend and counsellor the monk Baldwin of Tournay,[1411] and two of his clerks. Their only crime was standing by their master in the trial which still stood adjourned.[1412] The Archbishop’s chamberlain was seized in his master’s chamber before his master’s eyes; false charges were brought against his tenants, unjust imposts were laid upon them, and other wrongs of many kinds done to them.[1413] The church of Canterbury, it was said, began to doubt whether it had not been better off during the vacancy than now that the archbishopric was full.[1414] And all this while, heavy as William professed to deem the crime of so much as giving Urban the title of Pope, William’s own dealings with Urban were neither slight nor unfriendly.

§ 5. The Mission of Cardinal Walter.
1095.

Events of the months of truce, March-May, 1095. The months of truce between the King and the Archbishop were, as our next chapter will show, busy months in other ways. William Rufus was all this time engaged in another dispute with a subject of a rank but little below that of the Primate, a dispute in which, at least in its early stages, the King appears to much greater advantage than he commonly does. A conspiracy against William’s throne and life was plotting; Robert of Mowbray was making ready for revolt, and his refusal to appear, when summoned, at the Easter and Whitsun assemblies of this year was the first overt act of his rebellion. Assemblies of the year. We may conceive that Anselm did not attend either of those gatherings; that of Whitsuntide we know that he did not. It might be more consistent with the notion of the truce that he should keep away from the King’s presence and court till the time which had been fixed for the controversy formally to begin again. At Easter and for some time after, Anselm seems to have stayed at Canterbury, and, while he was there, the metropolitan city received an unexpected visitor, who did not allow himself to be treated as a guest.

Position of Urban. The year which we have reached was one of the most memorable in the history of the papacy. Urban, though not in full possession of Rome, had kept his Christmas there a year before, and his cause was decidedly in the ascendant throughout the year of the Red King’s second Norman campaign.[1415] At the beginning of the next year, after keeping Christmas in Tuscany, Urban went on into Lombardy, where the Emperor still was, though his rebel son Conrad, crowned and largely acknowledged as King of Italy, was far more powerful than his father.[1416] Council of Piacenza. May 1–7. Almost on the same days as those which in England were given to the council of Rockingham, Urban held his great council of Piacenza, a council so great that no building could hold its numbers; the business of the assembly was therefore done, as we have seen it done in our own land, in the open fields.[1417] Its decrees. There the Empress Praxedes told her tale of sorrow and shame; there the cry of Eastern Christendom, set forth in the letters of the Emperor Alexios, was heard and heeded; there the heresy of Berengar, already smitten by Lanfranc,[1418] was again condemned; there a new set of anathemas were hurled at the married clergy,[1419] and a more righteous curse was denounced against the adulterous King of the French. No mention of English affairs. But no mention seems to have been made of English affairs; one is a little surprized at the small amount of heed which the dispute between the King and the Archbishop seems to have drawn to itself in foreign lands. Yet, next to the ups and downs of the Emperor himself, one would have thought that no change could have so deeply affected the Roman see as the change from William the Great to William the Red. It is part of the same general difficulty which attaches to the Red King’s career, the strange fact that the worst of all crowned sinners, the foulest in life, the most open in blasphemy, the most utter scorner of the ecclesiastical power, never felt the weight of any of those ecclesiastical censures which so often lighted on offenders of a less deep dye. But if Urban was not thinking about William, William was certainly thinking about Urban. It was at this stage that we light on the curious picture which we have before seen, showing us England in a state of uncertainty, and seemingly of indifference, between the rival Pontiffs.[1420] William’s fresh schemes to turn the Pope against Anselm. But just now it suited William to acknowledge some Pope, because he thought that his only chance of carrying out his purposes against Anselm was by the help of a Pope. He had found that no class of men in his kingdom, except perhaps some of the bishops, would support him in any attempt to deprive the Primate of his own arbitrary will. Mere violence of course was open to him; but his Witan would not agree to any step against Anselm which made any pretence to legal form, and, with public feeling so strongly on Anselm’s side, with a dangerous rebellion brewing in the realm, the King might well shrink from mere violence towards the first of his subjects. His new device was to acknowledge a Pope, and then to try, by his usual arts, arts which Rome commonly appreciated, to get the Pope whom he acknowledged to act against the Archbishop. To see Anselm deprived, or in any way humbled, by an exercise of ecclesiastical power, would be to wound Anselm in a much tenderer point, and would therefore be a much keener satisfaction to his own spite, than anything that he could himself do with the high hand.

Mission of Gerard and William of Warelwast. As soon therefore as William found, by the issue of the meeting at Rockingham, that Anselm could not be bent to his will, and that he could practically do nothing against Anselm, he sent two trusty clerks of his chapel and chancery on a secret and delicate errand. They were men of the usual stamp, both of whom afterwards rose to those high places of the Church which were just then commonly reserved for men of their stamp. They were Gerard, afterwards Bishop of Hereford and Archbishop of York, and William of Warelwast, afterwards Bishop of Exeter. Their commission. As we read our account of their commission, it would almost seem as if they were empowered to go to Rome, to examine into the state of things, and to acknowledge whichever seemed to be the true Pope, or rather whichever Pope was most likely to suit their master’s purpose. They are practically sent to acknowledge Urban. But practically they had no choice but to acknowledge Urban. Local English feeling might indeed set little store by one who simply “hight Pope, though he nothing had of the settle at Rome;”[1421] but Urban was plainly the stronger Pope, the Pope acknowledged by all who were not in the immediate interest of the Emperor. And, what was more, Urban was the only Pope who could carry out William’s purpose. A censure from Urban would be a real blow to Anselm and to Anselm’s partisans; a censure from Clement would in their eyes go for nothing, or rather it would be reckoned as another witness in their favour. Practically Gerard and William of Warelwast went to acknowledge Urban, and to see what they could make of him. They went secretly. Anselm knew nothing of their going. Most likely nothing was known of their errand by any man beyond the innermost cabal of the King’s special counsellors.[1422]

Their mission is said to have been to Rome; but the name Rome must be taken in a conventional sense for any place where the Pope might be. It is not likely that they really reached the Eternal City. Urban at Cremona. April 10, 1095. In the former part of April Urban was at Cremona, and was received there with great state by the rebel King Conrad.[1423] The momentary effort of Henry which followed, his vain attempt on Nogara, only raised the position of Urban and the Great Countess yet higher.[1424] Dealings of Gerard and William with Urban.It was most likely at Cremona that the ministers from England met Urban. They were to try, if possible, to win over the Pontiff, by gifts, by promises, by any means, to send a pallium to England for the King to bestow on the Archbishop of Canterbury, without mentioning the name of Anselm. The Sicilian “Monarchy.” They were, it seems, to try to obtain for the King a legatine authority like that which, then or later, had been granted to the Norman princes of Sicily.[1425] A Norman king of England was surely as worthy of such powers as a Norman Great Count of Sicily; and throughout these disputes we ever and anon see the vision of the “Sicilian Monarchy,” as something at which kings of England were aiming, and which strict churchmen condemned, whether in Sicily or in England.[1426] It is even possible that Gerard and William of Warelwast may have discussed the matter with some members of the Sicilian embassy which about this time brought the daughter of Count Roger to Pisa as the bride of King Conrad.[1427] Relations between England and Sicily. Close intercourse between the Norman princes of the great Oceanic and the great Mediterranean island is now beginning to be no small element in European politics. Some commission of this kind from the Pope was what William’s heart was set upon; he thought he had good right to it; he thought that his hope of it could not be doomed to disappointment.[1428] Did the proudest of men look forward, as an addition to royal and imperial power, to a day when he might fill a throne in the mother church of England, looking down on the patriarchal chair, as the empty thrones of later Williams still look down on the lowlier metropolitan seats of Palermo and Monreale?

Gerard and William come back, The dates show that the journeys must have been hasty, and that the business was got through with all speed. The two clerks could not have left England before the middle of March, and May was not far advanced before they were in England again, and a papal Legate with them. and bring Cardinal Walter as Legate. This was the Cardinal Walter, Bishop of Albano, whose good life is witnessed by our own Chronicler.[1429] His Italian subtlety showed itself quite equal to the work of outwitting the King and his counsellors whenever he chose; but his Roman greediness could not always withstand their bribes. He brings a pallium. He came, bringing with him a pallium, but the whole affair was, by the King’s orders, shrouded in the deepest mystery. Not a word was said about the pallium; indeed the Legate was not allowed to have any private discourse with any man. Secrecy of his errand. His two keepers, Gerard and William, watched him carefully; they passed in silence through Canterbury, and took care not to meet the Archbishop.[1430] His interview with the King. A few days before Whitsuntide, Cardinal Walter had an interview with the King. He spoke so that William understood him to be willing to abet all his purposes. Some special privilege was granted to William, which amounted at the least to this, that no legate should be sent into England but one of the King’s own choosing.[1431] Not a word did Cardinal Walter say on behalf of Anselm, not a word that could make peace between him and the King, not a word that could give Anselm any comfort among all the troubles that he was enduring on behalf of the Christian religion and of the authority of the Holy See.[1432] Many who had looked for great good from the Legate’s coming began to murmur, and to say, as Englishmen had learned to say already and as they had often to say again, that at Rome gold went for more than righteousness.[1433] To King William everything seemed to be going as he wished it to go. William acknowledges Urban. Fully satisfied, he put out a proclamation that throughout his Empire—through the whole patriarchate of Anselm—Urban should be acknowledged as Pope and that obedience should be yielded to him as the successor of Saint Peter.[1434] Walter had now gained his point; William fancied that he had gained his. He at once asked that Anselm might be deprived of his archbishopric by the authority of the Pope whom he had just acknowledged. He offered a vast yearly payment to the Roman See, if the Cardinal would only serve his turn in this matter.[1435] Walter refuses to depose Anselm. But Walter stood firm; he had done the work for which he had come; England was under the obedience of Urban. And, much as gold might count for at Rome, neither the Pope nor his Legate had sunk to the infamy of taking money to oppress an innocent man and a faithful adherent. Anselm was indeed treated by them as Englishmen, whether by race, by birth, or by adoption, whether Edmund, Thomas, or Anselm, commonly were treated by Popes. He was made a tool of, and he got no effectual support; but Urban was not prepared for such active wickedness as the Red King asked of him.

William and his counsellors outwitted by the Legate. William was now thoroughly beaten at his own weapons. The craft and subtlety of Randolf Flambard, of William of Saint-Calais, of the Achitophel of Meulan himself, had proved of no strength before the sharper wit of Walter of Albano. The King complained with good right that he had gained nothing by acknowledging Urban.[1436] In truth he had lost a great deal. He had lost every decent excuse for any further attack upon Anselm. The whole complaint against Anselm was that he had acknowledged Urban. But the King had now himself acknowledged Urban, and he could not go on persecuting Anselm for simply forestalling his own act. In legal technicality doubtless, if it was a crime to acknowledge Urban when the King had not yet acknowledged him, that crime was not purged by the King’s later acknowledgement of him. Rufus himself might have been shameless enough to press so pettifogging a point; but he had learned at Rockingham that no man in the land, save perhaps a few servile bishops, would support him in so doing. He is driven to a reconciliation with Anselm. There was nothing to be done but for William to make up his quarrel with Anselm, to make it up, that is, as far as appearances went, to make it up till another opportunity for a quarrel could be found. But till such opportunity was found, Anselm must be openly and formally received into the King’s favour.[1437] The thing had to be done; only if some money could be squeezed out of Anselm in the process of doing it, the chivalrous King would be the better pleased.

Whitsun Gemót at Windsor. May 13, 1095. The feast of Pentecost came, and with it the second of the assemblies at which the rebellious Earl of Northumberland refused to show himself. The King and his Witan were at Windsor; the Archbishop was keeping the feast at his manor of Mortlake. On the octave he was himself, according to the truce made at Rockingham, to appear at Windsor. The King’s message to Anselm. In the course of the Whitsun-week a message was brought to him from the King, bidding him go to Hayes, another of his manors nearer to Windsor, in order that messages might more easily go to and fro between him and the King.[1438] He went, and Eadmer went with him. The next day nearly all the bishops came to him; some of them, it will be remembered, had kept the King’s favour throughout, and the others who had lost it had bought it again. Their object was to try to persuade the Archbishop to give money to the King for the restoration of his favour. Anselm answered stoutly, as before, that he would not so dishonour his lord as to treat his friendship as something which could be bought and sold.[1439] He would faithfully discharge every temporal duty to his lord, on the one condition of being allowed to keep his obedience to Pope Urban. If that was not allowed, he would again ask for a safe-conduct to leave the kingdom. The Legate’s coming revealed to Anselm. They then told him—the secret must have been still kept, though Urban was acknowledged—that the Bishop of Albano had brought a pallium from the Pope; they did not scruple to add that he had, at the King’s request, brought it for Anselm.[1440] Would not the Archbishop pay something for so great a benefit?[1441] Would he not at least, now that the pallium had come to him instead of his going for the pallium, pay the sum which the journey to Rome would otherwise have cost him?[1442] Anselm will not pay for the pallium. Anselm would pay nothing. The King had thus to make the best of a bad bargain. As Anselm would not pay for either friendship or pallium, there was nothing to be done but to let him have both friendship and pallium without paying. Anselm and William reconciled. The King once more consulted his lay nobles, and, by their advice,[1443] he restored Anselm to his full favour, he cancelled all former causes of quarrel, he received him as archbishop and ghostly father, and gave him the fullest licence to exercise his office throughout the realm. One condition only seems to have been made; Anselm was to promise that he would observe the laws and customs of the realm and would defend them against all men.[1444] The promise was made, but with the express or implied reservation of duty to God.[1445] That was indeed the reservation which William most hated; but in his present frame of mind he may have brought himself to consent to it. Anselm came to Windsor, and was admitted by Their friendly discourse. the King to his most familiar converse in the sight of the lords and of the whole multitude that had come together.[1446] Cardinal Walter came in at the lucky moment, and was edified by the sight. He quoted the scripture, “Behold, how good and joyful it is brethren to dwell together in unity.” He sat down beside the friendly pair; he quoted other scriptures, and expressed his sorrow that he himself had not had any hand in the good work of bringing them together.

The wild bull and the feeble sheep thus seemed for a moment to pull together as friendly yokefellows. But a Norman king did not, in his character of wild bull, any more than in his character of lion, altogether cast aside his other character of fox. He, or Count Robert for him, had one shift left. Or it might almost seem that it was not the King’s own shift, but merely the device of flatterers who wished to win the royal favour by proposing it. Anselm asked to take the pallium from the King. Would not the Archbishop, for the honour of the King’s majesty, take the pallium from the King’s hand?[1447] Anselm had made no objection to receiving the staff from the King’s hand, for such was the ancient custom of England. But with the pallium the King had nothing to do; it belonged wholly to the authority of Saint Peter and his successor.[1448] He refuses. Anselm therefore refused to take the pallium from the King. The refusal was so clearly according to all precedent, the proposal the other way was such a manifest novelty, that nothing more was said about the matter. It was settled that, on a fixed day, the pallium should be laid on the altar of Christ in the metropolitan church, and that Anselm should take it thence, as from the hand of Saint Peter himself.[1449] The expression used is remarkable, as showing that the popular character of these assemblies had not utterly died out. Assent of the Assembly. “The whole multitude agreed.”[1450] They agreed most likely by a shout of Yea, Yea, rather than by any more formal vote; but in any case it was that voice of the people which Eadmer at least knew to be the voice of God.

Anselm absolves two repentant bishops. The Archbishop and his faithful comrade now set out for Canterbury. But he was called on to do some archiepiscopal acts by the way. They had hardly left Windsor when two bishops came to express their repentance for the crime of denying their metropolitan at Rockingham.[1451] Robert and Osmund. These were the ritualist Osmund of Salisbury, and Robert of Hereford, the friend of Wulfstan. It was believed that, besides the visit at the moment of his departure, the saint of Worcester had again appeared to Bishop Robert. He had warned him of divers faults in his life and in the administration of his diocese, giving him however good hopes if he mended his ways.[1452] Notwithstanding this voice from the dead, Robert had consented to the counsel and deed of them at Rockingham; he now came with Osmund to ask pardon. Anselm turned into a little church by the wayside, and gave them absolution. Then and there too he did another act of archiepiscopal clemency to a more distant suffragan. Wilfrith of Saint David’s restored. Wilfrith Bishop of Saint David’s had been—we are not told when—suspended for some fault—we are not told what. Anselm now restored him to his episcopal office.[1453]

Anselm receives the pallium at Canterbury. June 10, 1095. The Archbishop went on to Canterbury, and there awaited the coming of the Roman Cardinal. On the appointed day, a Sunday in June, Bishop Walter came. He was met with all worship by the convents of the two monasteries, Christ Church and Saint Augustine’s, by a great body of clergy, and by a vast crowd of layfolk of both sexes. The Bishop of Albano bore the precious gift in a silver casket. As they drew near to Christ Church, Anselm, with bare feet, but in the full dress of his office, supported on either side by the suffragans who had come to the ceremony, met the procession. The pallium was laid on the altar; it was taken thence by the hand of Anselm, and reverently kissed by those who were near him.[1454] The Archbishop was then clothed with his new badge of honour; nothing was now wanting to his position. Already invested, consecrated, clothed with full temporal and spiritual powers within his own province by the King and the bishops of England, he now received the solemn recognition of the rest of the Western Church, in the person of its chief Pontiff.[1455] Anselm and England were again in full fellowship with the lawful occupier of the apostolic throne. Nothing now was wanting. The Archbishop, clad in his pallium, sang the mass. But, as at his consecration, men found an evil omen in part of the words of the service. The gospel of the day told of the man who made a great supper and bade many, but whose unthankful guests began to make excuse.[1456]

The reception of the pallium by Anselm was the last great ceremony done in the metropolitan church during this his first primacy; it was one of the very few great ceremonies done in the unaltered church of Lanfranc. Death of Bishop Robert of Hereford. June 26, 1095.And, if we are to understand that all the suffragans of Canterbury were present, one of them was soon taken away. Not many days after Anselm first put on the pallium, his late penitent, Bishop Robert of Hereford, left the world, to join for ever, as the charity of Worcester believed, the saintly friend whom he had twice wonderfully seen.[1457] The Legate stays in England. Cardinal Walter meanwhile stayed in England during the greater part of that year, and according to some accounts for some months of the year which followed. Notwithstanding the good life for which the Chronicler gives him credit, he seems, like other Romans, to have been open to the King’s special means of influence, and a foreign writer who had good means of knowing seems to speak of his general conduct in England as having greatly tended to bring his office into discredit.[1458] His commission from Pope Urban was a large one. Objects of Walter’s mission. Among other things, he had to look to the better payment of the Romescot,[1459] which, it will be remembered, had not always flowed regularly into the papal coffers even in the days of the Conqueror,[1460] and which of course did not flow at all in the days when no Pope was acknowledged in England. He had also to enquire generally into the state of things in England, and to consult with Anselm as to the means of reform. His dealings with Anselm. It is plain however from most independent testimonies that the Archbishop and the Cardinal were by no means suited to work together. Two letters from Anselm to Walter throw a singular light on some points in the story which are not recorded in any narrative. The personal intercourse of the two prelates was interfered with by a cause which we should hardly have looked for, namely, the occupation of Anselm in the duties of a military command. But it is plain that Anselm did not look for much good from any special intercourse between himself and the Cardinal. He writes that private conferences between the two were of no use; they could do nothing without the King’s consent and help.[1461] But Anselm seems to have taken a more constitutional view of the way by which the King’s consent and help was to be got than the Roman Legate was likely to take. Anselm says that they would meet to no purpose, except when the King, the bishops, and the nobles, were all near to be referred to.[1462] This reads very much as if Anselm was aware of some underhand practices between the King and the Legate, and had no mind to meet the emissary of Rome except when he himself would have the constitutional voice of the nation to back him. But as things stood at the moment, circumstances seem to have hindered the meeting for which Walter seems to have wished and Anselm not to have wished.

The King’s northern march. We are now in the thick of the revolt of Earl Robert of Mowbray, the tale of which will be told in full in the next chapter. The King was on his march northward to put down the revolt. King, Archbishop, and Legate, had parted as if the Legate at least was not to see either of the other two again in England.[1463] At such a time the desired conference could not be held; and Anselm himself was bound for the time within a very narrow local range. Anselm entrusted with the defence of Canterbury. While the King marched on towards Northumberland, the Archbishop was entrusted with the care of Canterbury, perhaps of Kent generally, against an expected Norman invasion.[1464] If Anselm’s conscience would have allowed him to take part in actual warfare, we can hardly fancy that he would have proved a captain to the liking of the Red King. Yet it does sometimes happen that a simple sense of duty will carry a man with credit through business the most opposite to his own temper and habits. It is more likely however that the duty really laid upon Anselm, as upon Wulfstan at Worcester, was rather to keep the minds of the King’s forces up to the mark by stirring exhortations, while the task of personally fighting and personally commanding was given to others. Still he was, both by the King’s word of mouth and by his writ and seal, entrusted with the care of the district,[1465] and he deemed it his duty not to leave Canterbury, except to go to any point that might be immediately threatened.[1466] Why Walter could not have come to Canterbury is not clear. Letters between Anselm and Walter. Anyhow personal communication was hindered, and to that hindrance we owe a letter which gives us a further insight into the almost incredible shamelessness of the King’s courtly bishops. Walter, it is plain, had been rebuking them for their conduct towards Anselm. Position of the bishops. They were open to ecclesiastical censure for denying their archbishop, and he blames Anselm himself for too great lenity towards them.[1467] Anselm pleads that they had returned to him and had promised obedience for the future.[1468] The others, it would seem, had followed the example of the Bishops of Hereford and Salisbury. But it comes out in the letter that some of these undutiful suffragans had taken up the strangest and most self-condemning line of defence. These men, cringing slaves of the King, who had carried every mean and insulting message from the King to the Primate, who had laid down the rule that neither bishops nor other men had anything to do but to follow the King’s will in all things, The bishops object to Anselm’s position. were not ashamed to plead that Anselm was no lawful archbishop, that he could claim no duty from them, simply because he had done what they had themselves done in a far greater degree. These faithful servants of King William were not ashamed to urge that their master and his kingdom had been in a state of schism, cut off from the Catholic Church and its lawful head, and that Anselm had been a partaker in the schism. He had received investiture from a schismatic King; he had done homage to that schismatic King, and had received consecration from schismatic bishops. In other words, they plead that Anselm is no lawful archbishop, because he had been consecrated by themselves.

A more shameless plea than this could hardly be thought of, but Anselm does not seem stirred by its shamelessness. His answer. He simply answers the doubt which was cast on his own appointment and consecration as calmly as if it had been started by some impartial outsider.[1469] Those who consecrated him were not schismatics; no judgement had cut them off from the communion of the Church. They had not cast off their allegiance to the Roman Pontiff; they all professed obedience to the Roman See; they had not in any way denied that Urban was the lawful Pope; they had simply, in the midst of the controversy which was going on, doubted whether it was their clear duty to receive him as such.[1470] That his own position was perfectly good was shown by the conduct of the Pope himself. Urban knew all that had happened between him and the King, together with all the circumstances of his consecration. So knowing, he had treated him as lawfully consecrated, and had sent him the pallium by Walter’s own hands.[1471] If such objections had any force, why had not Walter spoken of them before he, Anselm, had received the pallium?[1472] Question about the monks of Christ Church. Another passage in this letter would seem to imply that some complaint had been made as to Anselm’s dealings with the monks of his own church. The Cardinal asks Anselm to leave them in free possession of their goods.[1473] Anselm answers that he earnestly desires the peace and advantage of his monks, and with God’s help he will do all that lies in his power to settle everything for their advantage.[1474] Anselm and his monks seem to have been commonly on the best of terms. Still we seem here to see the beginnings of those disputes which grew into such terrible storms a hundred years later. The lands of the monks had, as we have seen,[1476] not been spared during the vacancy of the archbishopric. And it may be that some wrong had been again done to them when the King was molesting the Archbishop’s men during the time of truce. We heard not long ago of great complaints going up during that time; some of them may have taken the formal shape of an appeal to the Cardinal. Anselm’s reeves may have been no more scrupulous than the reeves of other men. Indeed we find a curious witness that it was so. The question was raised why Anselm, a monk and a special lover of monks, did not always live at Canterbury, among his monks.[1475] Several answers are given. Anselm and his tenants. The most remarkable is that his presence in his manors was needed to protect his poorer tenants from the oppression of his reeves.[1476] When such care was needed on behalf of the tenants, it is quite possible that the reeves might sometimes meddle wrongfully with the possessions of the monks also.

A time of peace for Anselm followed, though hardly a time of peace for England. Before the year was out the King had put down the revolt in Northumberland; Earl Robert of Mowbray was his prisoner. An expedition against the Welsh was less successful, and Scotland still remained under the king of her own choice. Gemót of Windsor and Salisbury. Christmas, 1095–1096. The Christmas Gemót, of which we shall have presently to speak at length, was a famous, and, what was not usual in our early assemblies, a bloody gathering. It was held at Windsor and was then adjourned to Salisbury; at the former place at least Anselm was present, and he had an opportunity of showing Christian charity to an enemy. Anselm attends the Bishop of Durham on his death-bed. January, 1096. At Windsor Bishop William of Durham sickened and died. His latter days are so closely connected with the fall of Earl Robert that they will be better spoken of elsewhere. It is enough to say here that his last hours were cheered by the ghostly help of the holy man against whom he had so deeply sinned. Meanwhile Anselm, comforted by the recall of his friend Baldwin,[1477] was doing his duty in peace; ruling, writing, exhorting, showing love to every living creature,[1478] ever and anon called on to discharge the special duties of his office. Consecration of bishops. In this interval he consecrated two bishops to sees within the realm. The churches of Worcester and Hereford were vacant by the deaths of the two friends Wulfstan and Robert. Both sees were filled in the year after they fell vacant. Were they filled after the usual fashion of the Red King’s day, or was Anselm, now, outwardly at least, in William’s full favour, able during this interval of peace to bring about some relaxation of the crying evil of this reign? There is no direct statement either way; we can judge only by what we know of the characters of the two men appointed. Neither of them, one would think, was altogether to the mind of Anselm. Samson Bishop of Worcester. In the place of the holy Wulfstan, the diocese of Worcester received as its bishop, and the monks of Worcester received as their abbot, a canon of Bayeux, Samson by name, a brother of Archbishop Thomas of York. The influence of the Northern Primate may perhaps be seen in the appointment of his kinsman to a see so closely connected with his own. Samson was one of the school of learned men with whom Odo—it was his one redeeming merit—had filled his church of Bayeux.[1479] He was as yet only in deacon’s orders, and he was possibly married, at least he is said to have been the father of the second archbishop Thomas of York.[1480] He seems to have been one of those prelates, who, without any claim to special saintship, went through their course at least decently. He was bountiful to all; to the monks of Worcester he did no harm—some harm seems to have been looked for from a secular—beyond suppressing their dependent monastery of Westbury.[1481] Of the new Bishop of Hereford we know more. Gerard Bishop of Hereford, Archbishop of York 1100. He was that Gerard who had helped to bring Cardinal Walter to England, one of the King’s clerks, not even in deacon’s orders, and a thorough time-server.[1482] We cannot help suspecting that his bishopric was not granted for nothing, whatever may have been the case with Samson at Worcester. Consecration of Gerard and Samson. June 6, 1096. The bishops-elect came to Anselm for consecration. He was then with his friend Gundulf at Lambeth, then a manor of the see of Rochester. In the chapel of the manor Anselm ordained them priests.[1483] The next day he consecrated them in the cathedral church of London, with the help of four of his suffragans, three of whom, Thomas of York, Maurice of London, and Gundulf of Rochester, had in different ways a special interest in the ceremony. The fourth was Herbert, described as of Thetford or Norwich. It was in the course of this year that he began his great work in his last-named see.[1484]

Anselm consecrates Irish bishops. This year too Anselm was able to show that his style of Patriarch of all the nations beyond the sea was not an empty title. It was now that he consecrated two bishops to sees in Ireland, Samuel of Dublin and Malchus of Waterford. They were both Irish by birth, but monks of English monasteries, Samuel of Saint Alban’s, Malchus of Winchester. They came with letters from the clergy and people of their sees, and from King Murtagh or Murchard, of whom we shall hear again, and who takes to himself the sounding title of King of Ireland. Both were consecrated by Anselm, Samuel at Winchester, Malchus at Canterbury.[1485] It was no new claim; two predecessors of Samuel had already been consecrated by Lanfranc.

§ 6. The Crusade and the Mortgage of Normandy.
November, 1095-March, 1097.

We must now for a while again turn our eyes to Normandy, but to Normandy mainly as affected by the most stirring scenes in the history of the world. Council of Piacenza. March 7, 1095. We have seen Urban at Piacenza; we have heard him there make his appeal to Western Christendom on behalf of the oppressed churches and nations of the East. Their cry came up then, as it has come up in our own ears; and it was answered in those days as one only among Christian nations has been found to answer it in ours. In those days the bulwark and queen of the Eastern lands still Appeal of the Emperor Alexios. stood untouched. The New Rome had not then to be won back for Christendom; it had simply to be preserved. By the prince who still kept on the unbroken succession of Constantine and Diocletian and Augustus the appeal was made which stirred the hearts of nations Council of Clermont. November 18, 1095.as the heart of one man. The letters of Alexios had been read at Piacenza; the great call from the mouth of the Western Pontiff was made in the ears of a vaster multitude still in the memorable assembly of Clermont. The first Crusade. But the tale of the first Crusade needs not to be told here. The writers of the time were naturally called away from what might seem the smaller affairs of their own lands to tell of the great struggle of two worlds. Some of the fullest accounts of the gathering and march of the crusaders are to be found in the writings to which we are in the habit of turning in every page for the history of England and Normandy.[1486] Our native Chronicler can spare only a few words, but those are most pithy words, to set forth the great stirring of the nations.[1487] Bearing of the crusade on our story. And in our present tale the holy war directly comes home to us, chiefly because so many men whom we have already heard of took a part in it. Above all, it places two of our chief actors before us in parts eminently characteristic of the two. We see how Duke Robert of Normandy went forth to show himself among the foremost and the worthiest in the struggle, and how King William of England took occasion of his brother’s zeal to gain his duchy by money wrung from English households and English churches. I have noticed elsewhere,[1488] as has been often noticed before, that the work of the first crusade was strictly the work of the nations, and of princes of the second rank. No king engaged in the first crusade. Dukes and counts there were many in the crusading army, but no king of the West joined in its march. The Western Emperor was at open war with the Pope who preached the crusade. The kings of Spain had their own crusade to wage. The kings of England and France were of all men in their kingdoms the least likely to join in the enterprise.The crusades a Latin movement. The kingdoms of the North were as yet hardly stirred by the voice of Urban. It is indeed plain that the whole movement was primarily a Latin movement. It is with a true instinct that the people of the East have from those days onward Name of Franks. given the name of Franks to all the Christians of the West. It is a curious speculation, and one at which I have already hinted elsewhere, what would have been the share of England in the crusades, if there had been no Norman Conquest.[1489] As it was, the part of the Teutonic nations in the crusades is undoubtedly secondary to that of the Latin nations. Germany takes no leading part till a later stage; Scandinavia takes no leading part at all; England is brought into the scene as an appendage to Normandy. Share of Normandy and Flanders. The English crusaders served under the banner of the Norman Duke.[1490] Among the secondary powers Flanders indeed appears among the foremost; but Flanders, a fief of the crown of Paris, was, as a power, though not as a people, more Latin than Teutonic. The elder Count Robert had won the honour of forestalling the crusade by sending help to the Eastern Emperor on his own account.[1491] Place chosen for the council. It was fittingly in a Latin city, in a Gaulish city, that Urban, himself by birth a Frenchman in the stricter sense,[1492] called the nations of the West to arms. But it was equally fitting that it should not be within the immediate dominion of a king who had no heart for the enterprise, of a king whose own moral offences it was one of the duties of the Pontiff and his council to denounce. Not in the dominions of any king, not in the dominions of any of the great dukes and counts who were in power on a level with kings, but in the land of the lowlier counts, not as yet dauphins, of Auvergne, the assembly met whose acts were to lead to the winning back of the Holy City for Christendom, but with which we are more directly concerned as causing William the Red to reign at Rouen as well as at Winchester.

Decrees of the council. The preaching of the crusade was not the only business of the great assembly at Clermont. A crowd of canons of the usual kind were passed against the usual abuses. Those abuses were not confined to England and Normandy. We are told that in all the lands on our side of the Alps—and we may venture to doubt whether things were likely to be much better on the other side—simony prevailed among all classes of the clergy, while the laity had taken to put away their wives and to take to themselves the wives of other men.[1493] The great example of this last fault was certainly King Philip of France, whose marriage or pretended marriage with Bertrada of Montfort, the wife of Count Fulk of Anjou, was one of the subjects of discussion at the council. All abuses of all these kinds were again denounced, Lay investiture forbidden. as they had often been denounced before, and were often to be denounced again. But what concerns us more immediately is the decree that no bishop, abbot, or clerk of any rank, should receive any ecclesiastical benefice from the hand of any prince or other layman.[1494] This struck straight at the ancient use both of England and of Normandy. It forbad what Gregory the Seventh had, if not allowed, at least winked at, during his whole reign, in the case of the common sovereign of those two lands.[1495] This decree, we cannot doubt, had an important bearing on the future position of Anselm. Sentences against Clement and the Emperor; against Philip and Bertrada. Wibert, calling himself Clement, was of course excommunicated afresh, along with the Emperor as his supporter. So were the King of the French and his pretended queen, for their adulterous marriage. So were all who should call them King and Queen or Lord and Lady, or should so much as speak to either of them for any other purpose except to rebuke their offences.[1496] The thunders of the Church could have found only one more fitting object than the reformation of this great moral scandal. But we see to what a height ecclesiastical claims had grown, when the council took on itself to declare the offenders deprived of their royal dignity and their feudal rights. Then followed the great discourse which called men to the Holy War. Urban preaches the crusades; his geography. Urban told how, of the three parts of the world, the infidels had rent away two from Christendom; how Asia and Africa were theirs—a saying wholly true of Africa, and which, when the Turk held Nikaia, seemed even more true of Asia than it really was. Europe alone was left, our little portion. Of that, Spain had been lost—the Almoravids had come in since our last glimpse of Spanish matters[1497]—while most of the northern parts of Europe itself were still shrouded in heathen darkness. It needs some little effort to remember how true to the letter Urban’s religious geography was. The south-western peninsula was then, what the south-eastern is now, the land of Christian nations slowly winning back their own from infidel masters. And, before Swedish kings had crossed the Baltic, before Sword-brothers and Teutonic knights had arisen, before Russia had made her way northward, southward, and eastward, all north-eastern Europe was still heathen, while Scandinavia, Poland, and Hungary, were still recent conquests for the faith. Into the central strip of Christian land which lay between the heathen of the north and the Turks and Saracens of the south, east, and west, the enemy was now ready to cross. Urban called on his hearers to go forth and stop the way; and not a few of the men whose names have been famous, some whose names have been infamous, in our own story were among the foremost to go forth on the holy errand to which the voice of the Pontiff called them.

French and other crusaders. Those among the recorded crusaders whose names come more immediately home to Englishmen did not join the holy war till a later time. But not a few names which have been long familiar to us are to be found in the list of those who joined in the first regular expedition 1096. which set forth in the course of the year which followed the assembly at Clermont. Hugh brother of King Philip. Beyond the bounds of England and Normandy we may mark the names of Hugh surnamed the Great, the brother of King Philip, Count of Vermandois, Count of Valois in succession to the holy Simon,[1498] but who appears in our chief list of crusaders by the lowlier title of the Count of Crêpy. He went to the work, leaving his fiefs to his sons. His daughter Isabel or Elizabeth he gave in marriage to Count Robert of Meulan, by this time no very youthful bridegroom.[1499] Robert of Meulan marries his daughter. Among princes of greater power, but of less lofty birth, the foreign allies of the Norman house were represented by the younger Count Robert of Flanders, nephew of the Conqueror’s queen, and by Stephen Count of Chartres and Blois, husband of Robert of Flanders and Stephen of Chartres. the Conqueror’s noblest child, and father of a king of England and of a bishop of an English see more personally eminent than his royal brother. Rotrou of Mortagne and Walter of Saint Valery went from the border lands so closely connected with Norman history. In Everard of Puiset we hear the name of a house which was in the next century to become famous in England on the throne of Saint Cuthberht, the throne at that moment empty and widowed by the death of William of Saint-Calais. The brothers from Boulogne; And from a house most hateful to England, but which had received no small share of the spoils of England, went forth three brethren, one of whom was to show himself the worthiest, and to be placed the highest, in the crusading host. Eustace, Eustace of Boulogne, a prince beyond the sea but in England lord of lands scattered from Mendip to the Kentish and East-Saxon shores,[1500] marched with his two brothers, both of whom were to reign as kings in the Holy City. Baldwin, The part of Baldwin in the enterprise had been already foreshadowed in visions told in the hall of Conches.[1501] Visions were hardly needed to foretell the Godfrey of Lorraine. greatness of Godfrey of Lorraine, who had won his duchy as the prize of faithful service to the Emperor, but who was none the less ready to discharge the duties of a higher allegiance at the bidding of the Pontiff. From Normandy itself went, among a crowd of others, some of that younger generation which is beginning to supply the chief actors in our tale. Norman crusaders. Philip, the son of the lately deceased Roger of Montgomery, Ivo and Alberic the sons of the lately deceased Hugh of Grantmesnil,[1502] all went forth; so did Gerard of Gournay and his wife Eadgyth, he to die, she to come back for another marriage.[1503] And with them went another married pair whose names carry us back to earlier times. Ralph of Wader. The double traitor, Ralph of Wader, traitor to England, traitor to William, went forth with his valiant Emma, to do something to wipe out his old crimes by good service beneath the walls of Nikaia, and to leave his bones and hers in lands where his memory was not a memory of shame.[1504]

Duke Robert. We may be sure that among the crowd of men of every rank who were stirred by the voice of Urban none took up the cross with a more single mind than the Duke of the Normans. It was an appeal which spoke at once to the better side of him, an appeal which took him away from that land of his birth and dominion which was to him a land of such utter failure. As a son and a ruler, he had much to repent of; as a warrior, a worthy object of warfare was for the first time opened to him. His need of money. But how was he to go, at least how was he to go as became the prince of a duchy which under other princes had been so great? His hoard was empty; half his barons were in practical rebellion; his brothers held no small part of his duchy. He is driven to apply to William. He had no resource but one, to seek help, at whatever cost, from the brother who could command the wealth of England, even though the price should be nothing short of yielding the whole of Normandy to him who already held a part. It is needless to say that King William of England had no thought of going on the crusade himself. Position of William. He was not indeed hindered, as the Emperor and the King of the French were hindered, by actually lying under the censures of the Church. But he was as little likely as either of them to gird on his sword in the great quarrel. The voice which stirred the heart of Robert to the quick found no kindred chord to strike on in the mocking soul of Rufus. The enemy of God felt no call to march in the cause of God. He was not likely to spend his treasures or to display his chivalry in warfare which could not bring him any direct increase of wealth or power. It was rather for him to stay at home, and to reap what he could in the way of either wealth or power at the cost of those whose madness led them on errands which could bring in neither. Palestine was far away and hard to win. Normandy, so much as was left of Normandy, so much as was not already his own, was near and was easy to win with his own special arms. William Rufus was not at all likely to turn aside from any offer of the kind which Robert might make to him.

Mission of Abbot Jeronto. The brothers were however at war, and the services of a mediator were needed to open negotiations between them. The Pope becomingly undertook the office, and sent a prelate from the more distant parts of Gaul, Jeronto, Abbot of Saint Benignus at Dijon, to make peace between the King and the Duke. We are told that Walter of Albano’s greediness and subserviency to the King had brought the name of Legate, and of Rome itself, into discredit. Jeronto was therefore trusted with a commission to make an appeal to William, such as Walter had clearly never made, about the evils which were allowed to go on under his government.[1505] Of the two branches of this commission one prospered better than the other. Jeronto rebukes William. At first, we are told, the Abbot’s righteous boldness and plainness of speech seemed to have made an effect on the King, while it raised general hopes of reform among the nation.[1506] But the King or his counsellors knew how to deal, if not with Abbot Jeronto, at least with those in greater authority. He had, so the story runs, sent a messenger of his own to the Pope—most likely during his sojourn in northern Gaul, of which we shall hear again—carrying with him the weighty argument of ten marks of the purest gold.[1507] Trusting to this means of gaining his end, the King kept the Abbot of Dijon with him, till the Easter of the next year. The Pope sends his nephew. Easter, April 13, 1096. By that time the King’s messenger came back, bringing with him a commissioner from the Pope, a layman, the sister’s son of Urban, by whose word of mouth it would seem the Abbot’s commission was cancelled and all questions were adjourned till the next Christmas.[1508] When the next Christmas came, the King was not in England, to attend to ecclesiastical reform or to anything else.

Peace between Robert and William. The other object for which Jeronto came to England was fully carried out, whether Jeronto himself had any real hand in bringing it about or not. Peace was made between the Duke of the Normans and the King of the English. Normandy pledged to William. 1096. In order that Robert might have money to go to the crusade, the duchy of Normandy was pledged to his brother for a sum of ten thousand marks. The transaction was not a cession or a sale; it was a mere pledge. The duchy was to pass to William merely for a season, for three years, or for so long a time as Robert should be away. If the Duke should come back, and should find himself able to pay the money, the duchy was to be his again.[1509] Still William’s possession seemed likely to be a lasting one. There seemed but small chance of Robert’s ever coming back, and smaller still of his coming back with ten thousand marks to spare out of the spoils of the infidels. If he ever did come so laden, William Rufus doubtless trusted that, by some means either of force or of fraud, his brother’s restoration to his duchy might be either evaded or withstood.

The price not large. The price for which Normandy was thus handed over does not, when compared with other payments of the time, seem a large one. It was not very much higher than the sums which Herbert Losinga was said to have paid for a bishopric for himself and an abbey for his father.[1510] The price to be paid for at least a three years’ possession of all Normandy was not much more than three times the sum which courtiers at least had looked on as a reasonable contribution for an Archbishop of Canterbury to make towards a single Norman expedition.[1511] Heavy taxation to raise the money. Yet the sum which was now to be paid is spoken of as a drain upon the whole kingdom. Rufus had no thought of paying the money out of any rightful revenues of the crown or out of any stores which he had already wrung from his people. Something was to be wrung from them yet again for the special object of the moment. The time would seem to have been the summer of the year which followed the gathering at Clermont, the year which in England began with the death of Bishop William of Durham and the frightful punishment of Count William of Eu. Whitsun Assembly, 1096. The matter may have been discussed at the Whitsun Assembly of that year, of which we have no record. At any rate a heavy tax was laid on the whole kingdom; we may be sure that the Red King took the occasion to wring more out of the land than the actual sum which he had to pay to his brother. Otherwise, except on the view that everything had been taken already, the payment of a sum less than seven thousand pounds could hardly have weighed on the whole kingdom as this benevolence is said to have weighed. Extortion of the benevolence. For a benevolence it was, at least in form; men were invited to give or to lend; but we gather that some more stringent means was found for those who failed to give or to lend willingly.[1512] The English Chronicler sends up his wail for the heavy time that it was by reason of the manifold gelds, and he tells us how, as so often happened, hunger followed in the wake of the extortioner.[1513] Other writers describe the King as demanding loans and gifts from his prelates, earls, and other great men. Oppression of tenants. The great lay lords, we are told, raised their share by the plunder of the knights who held fiefs of them and of the churls who tilled their demesne lands.[1514] It is the cry of these last that we hear through the voice of the Chronicler. Protest of the prelates. The bishops and abbots are said to have made a protest, a thing which almost passes belief on the part of the bishops of the Red King’s day. When called on for their shares, they are said to have answered, in the spirit, or at least in the words, of Ælfheah, that they could not raise the money by any means save the oppression of the wretched tillers of the earth.[1515] Judged by the conduct of the two classes at Rockingham, the prelates and the lay barons seem to have changed places. Comparison of the prelates and the lay lords. It is the churchmen now who have the conscientious scruple. Yet the difference is not wonderful. The barons were used to general havoc and violence of every kind; what they scrupled at was the deliberate perversion of formal justice to crush a single man who claimed their reverence on every ground, official and personal. The prelates, on the other hand, might be ready for any amount of cringing and cowardice, and might yet shrink from being made the agents of direct oppression in their own persons. Anyhow another means of payment was suggested by the cunning agents of the impious King. It may have been the future Bishop of Durham who answered, “Have ye not chests full of the bones of dead men, but wrought about with gold and silver?”[1516] Plunder of the churches.In this strait the churchmen took the sacrilegious hint. The most sacred objects were not spared; books of the gospels, shrines, crucifixes, were spoiled of their precious ornaments, chalices were melted down, all the gifts of the bounty of the old time were seized on, not to relieve the poor, but to fill the coffers of the King with the money that was needed for his ambitious schemes.[1517]

In all this we have learned to suspect some exaggeration; extreme measures taken at some particular places must have been spoken of as if they had been universal throughout the land. In one case, and that the case of the highest personal interest, we get the details, and they are a good deal less frightful than the general picture. Contribution of Anselm. Among the other great men of the land, the Archbishop of Canterbury was called on for his contribution. His friends advised compliance with the request, and he himself did not complain of it as unreasonable.[1518] But Anselm had no great store of money in hand. He consulted the Bishops of Winchester and Rochester, Walkelin and Gundulf, and by their advice he borrowed a sum of money from the hoard of his monks, who seem to have been better provided than himself. He mortgages the manor of Peckham to his monks. The convent, by a vote of the majority, agreed to help the Archbishop with a present sum of two hundred pounds, in return for which Anselm made over to them for seven years his manor of Peckham, which brought in thirty pounds yearly. The money supplied by the monks, together with what Anselm could raise himself, made up a sum which seems to have satisfied the King; at least no complaint or dispute is recorded.[1519]

The ten thousand marks were raised and paid. We may well believe that more than the ten thousand marks were raised; but we may be sure that not a penny more than his bargain entitled him to found its way into the hands of Duke Robert. In September the whole business was finished. Conference between William and Robert. King William crossed the sea, and met his brother in a conference held under the mediation of the King of the French, at some point of the border-land of the Vexin, at Pontoise or at Chaumont, places of which we shall have to speak again.[1520] The money was paid to the Duke; the duchy was handed over to the King, Robert sets forth on the Crusade. September, 1096.
His companions, Robert, Stephen, and Odo. and Robert of Normandy set forth for the holy war. He went in company with his cousin the Count of Flanders and his brother-in-law the Count of Chartres. And with them went a kinsman of an elder generation, whose long history, though not specially long life, is now drawing to an end. Bishop Odo of Bayeux could not bear to stay in Normandy again to become a subject of the nephew to whom he had surrendered himself at Rochester.[1521] He joined the forces of his elder nephew, and with him went the eloquent Bishop of Evreux, Gilbert, who had preached the funeral sermon of the Conqueror.[1522] Conduct of Robert.The Duke on his armed pilgrimage showed new powers. He could now, often but not always, overcome his love of idleness and pleasure, and whenever the moment of real danger came, he was ever foremost, not only in the mere daring of the soldier, but in the skill and counsel of the commander.[1523] Another hand has traced his course with all vividness, but with less sympathy than one could have wished for the general objects of the holy war.[1524] A few points in Robert’s eastern career are all that need now be touched on. He and his companions passed by Lucca, and there received the blessing of the orthodox Pope Urban.[1525] Robert at Rome. They went on to what should have been Urban’s see, and found how truly the English Chronicler spoke when he said that Urban nothing had of the settle at Rome. When they went to pay their devotions in the basilica of Saint Peter, they met with much such entertainment from the followers of the schismatic Clement as the monks of Glastonbury had met with from their abbot Thurstan.[1526] His reception by Roger of Apulia. They reached southern Italy, now a duchy of the house of Hauteville, and the reigning Duke Roger, son of the renowned Wiscard, is said to have welcomed his natural lord in the head of the ducal house of his ancestral land.[1527]

At the time of their coming, Duke Roger, his uncle Count Roger of Sicily, who had won back a realm for Christendom, and his brother Bohemond—Mark Bohemond we find him accurately called[1528]—were warring Siege of Amalfi. against the famous merchant town of Amalfi,[1529] rebellious in their eyes against the Norman Duke, in its own eyes loyal to the Eastern Emperor. Bohemond takes the cross. At the coming of the crusaders Bohemond took the cross, and rent up a goodly cloak into crosses for his followers.[1530] Count Roger was left almost alone to besiege Amalfi, and he went back to his own island. The crusaders winter in Apulia. 1096–1097. Yet, after this outburst of pious zeal, those who were highest in rank among the warriors of the cross tarried to spend a merry winter in that pleasant land, while many of the lower sort, already weary of the work, turned aside and went back to their homes.[1531] The Norman prelates, from whatever motives, crossed to the great island of the Mediterranean, a trophy of Norman victory only second to the yet greater island of the Ocean. There, under the rule of the Great Count of Sicily, the whilom Earl of Kent might see how conquerors of his own blood could deal with the men of conquered lands after another sort from that in which he had dealt with the men of his English earldom. There, in the happy city of the threefold speech,[1532] the Bishop of Bayeux might mark, in the great temple of Palermo, once church, then mosque, and now church once more, those forms of art of the Greek and the Saracen, which had lost in grace, if they had gained in strength, in taking the shapes which he had himself followed in his great work in his own Saxon city. Odo dies at Palermo. February, 1097. There the Earl and Bishop at last ended a career of which Kent and Bayeux could tell so different a tale. Gilbert of Evreux discharged the last corporal work of mercy for his fiercer brother; and the tomb of Odo of Bayeux arose within the walls of the great church of Palermo, soon to boast itself the head of the Sicilian realm.[1533] And, after all the changes of later days, amid the small remains which the barbarians of the Renaissance have left us of the church of English Walter, we may, even beside the tomb of the Wonder of the World, stop for a moment to remember that the brother of our Conqueror, the scourge of our land, found his last resting-place so far away alike from Bayeux, from Senlac, and from Rochester.

Duke Robert crosses to Dyrrhachion. The Bishop went no further than Palermo; the Duke went on by the course which the warfare of the Apulian Normans had lately made familiar. They entered the Eastern world at Dyrrhachion, where the valour of Normans and Englishmen had been lately proved.[1534] Use of the Bulgarian name. They passed, in the geography of our authors, through Bulgaria;[1535] that is, they passed through those Illyrian and Macedonian lands where the rule of Byzantium had again displaced the rule of Ochrida, but to which the name of the people whom Samuel had made terrible still clave, as in the language of fact, though not of diplomacy, it cleaves still. They reached Thessalonica, they reached Constantinople, and wondered at the glories of the New Rome.[1536] Robert does homage to Alexios. There, as in duty bound, they pledged their faith to the truest heir of the Roman majesty, whose lost lands they were to win back from the misbelievers. Before the throne of Alexios Robert the Norman knelt; he placed his hands between the Imperial hands, and arose the sworn liegeman of Augustus.[1537] The homage of Harold to Robert’s father was not more binding than the homage of Robert to Alexios; but an English earl and a Norman crusader were measured in those days by different standards. The host passed on; at Nikaia, at Antioch, at Jerusalem, Robert was ever foremost in fight and in council. Yet the old spirit was not wholly cast out. Robert at Laodikeia. When the English Warangians at Laodikeia hailed their joint leaders in the son of their Conqueror and in the heir of their ancient kings,[1538] the pleasures of Asia, like the pleasures of Apulia, were too much for the Duke, and it needed the anathemas of the Church to call him back from his luxurious holiday to the stern work that was before him.[1539] Before the walls of Jerusalem he found a strange ally. Hugh of Jaugy joins the crusades. Hugh of Jaugy, one of the murderers of Mabel, after his long sojourn among the infidels, greeted his natural prince, returned to his allegiance, and by his knowledge of the tongue and ways of those whom he forsook, did useful, if not honourable, service.[1540] A worthier comrade was a noble and valiant Turk, who of his own accord came to seek for baptism and for admission to share the perils of the pilgrims.[1541] The Norman Duke ever appears as the fellow-soldier of his kinsman and namesake of Flanders; the two Roberts are always side by side. The “rope-dancers” at Antioch. It is needless to say that neither of them shared in that shameful descent from the walls of Antioch which gained for some of the heroes of Normandy the mocking surname of the rope-dancers.[1542] It is hard to find any absolutely contemporary authority for the statement which was very soon afloat, Robert said to have refused the crown of Jerusalem. that the crown of Jerusalem was offered to Robert and was refused by him.[1543] Robert could not have been as Godfrey; but we can believe that his career would have been more honourable in a Syrian than in a Norman dominion. He was at least one of the first to stand on the rescued walls of the Holy City;[1544] and in the fight for the newly-won realm against the Fatimite Caliph, it was not merely by cutting down the Saracen standard-bearer with his own hand, but by a display of really skilful tactics, that Robert did much to win the day for Christendom.[1545] His return. He then turned his face towards Constantinople and towards Apulia, and we shall meet him again in his own land.

William takes possession of Normandy. As soon as Robert had set forth for Jerusalem, William took possession of the duchy of Normandy—in modern phrase, he took upon him its administration—without opposition from any side. There was indeed no side, except the side of mere anarchy, from which opposition could come. It was perhaps a little humiliating for a great duchy to be handed over from one prince to another by a personal bargain, like a house or a field. But there was no practical ground for opposing William’s entry. All classes, save mere robbers, lordly or vulgar, must have had enough of Robert. And now Robert was gone, and in going, he had handed them over to the prince for whom many of them had fought or intrigued, and who already held some of the most important points of the country. Whether it was good or bad for England and Normandy to have the same ruler, it was clearly a gain for all Normandy to have only one ruler. In one sense indeed this object was not even now attained. William’s first step was to dismember the duchy which he had bought. Grants to Henry. Henry, it will be remembered, had been left in Normandy a year and a half before, and had been, perhaps ever since, acting in William’s interests against Robert. He now received the reward of his services in a noble fief indeed. He became again acknowledged Count of the whole Côtentin. And to his peninsular dominion he was allowed to add the whole Bessin, except the city of Bayeux and the castle and town of Caen.[1546] The spot which contained the foundations of his parents, the tombs of his parents, William Rufus could not bring himself to give up, even to reward the faithful service of a brother.

But for Henry, in full friendship with his brother, to hold a corner of Normandy as a fief of his brother was a partition of Normandy of quite another kind from such a partition as had been when William, as Robert’s enemy, hemmed in Robert in his capital. Rule of William in Normandy. There can be no doubt that the exchange from Robert to William was an unspeakable gain to the duchy. During the remainder of the life of Rufus Normandy had a stern master; but, after the anarchy of Robert, what the land most needed was a master of almost any kind. Synod of Rouen. 1096. The kind of work which was needed is shown in the acts of a synod which had been gathered at Rouen by Archbishop William, while Robert still nominally ruled, almost immediately after the greater gathering at Clermont. Three Norman bishops had been at Clermont in person, Odo of Bayeux, Gilbert of Evreux, and Serlo of Seez. They brought back the decrees of the council to their brethren, who forthwith assembled to accept and enforce in their own province all that had been ordered at Clermont for the Church and the world in general. Truce of God confirmed. They confirmed the Truce of God[1547] with all its enactments on behalf of the more useful and helpless members of society. They drew up an oath to be taken under pain of anathema by all men, which bound them to observe the Truce in their own persons, and to give the help of the temporal arm to the efforts of the ecclesiastical powers against those who should break it.[1548] In those days at least peace could be had only through war, and the Truce of God itself became the occasion of more fighting against those who scorned its wholesome checks. Other decrees. Other anathemas were pronounced against robbers, false moneyers, and buyers of stolen goods, against those who gathered themselves together in castles for purposes of plunder, and against the lords who sheltered such men in their castles. Such castles were put under an interdict; no Christian rite might be done in them.[1549] In going on to pronounce further anathemas against the invaders of ecclesiastical rights, against the unlawful occupiers of Church lands, against laymen who claimed to have a right in tithes and other Church dues,[1550] the synod uses a formula which shows how keenly Normandy felt the difference between the great William and his eldest son. The days of King William. What the days of the Confessor were in England, the days of the Conqueror were in his own duchy. The synod decreed that all churches should enjoy their goods and customs as they had been in the time of King William, and that no burthens should be laid upon them but such as King William had allowed.[1551]

It would be too much to think that William the Red at once brought back the Norman duchy to the state in which it had been in those golden days of William the Great. And it is still less needful to stop to prove that even the days of William the Great would not have seemed golden days as compared with the state of any well-governed land in our own time. But there can be no doubt that the coming of the new ruler wrought a real reform. And a reform was grievously needed. Small results of the synod. We read that very little came of the well-intentioned decrees of the synod. The bishops, Odo among them, did what they could—it is Odo’s last recorded act in the lands with which we have to deal, and it is something that he leaves us in the shape of a reformer and not in that of an oppressor. But very little came of the efforts of the prelates. The Duke did nothing to help them—his mind was perhaps too full of the crusade—and things were at the moment of William’s coming in almost greater confusion than ever.[1552] William’s rule in Normandy. He at least gave the land the advantage of a strong rule; he kept the luxury of oppression to himself. The lesser scourges of mankind were thoroughly put down. We hear no more of that private warfare which had torn the land in pieces in the days of Robert. William recalled many of the lavish grants of Robert; what his father had held, he would hold.[1553] Even in ecclesiastical matters Rufus is not painted in such dark colours in Normandy as he is in England. His appointments to prelacies. He is not charged with keeping ecclesiastical benefices vacant in order that he might enjoy their revenues. He found two great abbeys vacant, those of Jumièges and Saint Peter-on-Dives; and he at once supplied them with abbots. They were abbots of his own choosing, but it is not said that they bought their places.[1554] Tancard Abbot of Jumièges. 1096–1101. Tancard, the new abbot of Jumièges, may lie under some suspicion, as a few years after he was deposed on account of a shameful quarrel with his monks.[1555] Saint Peter’s was vacant, not by the death, but by the deposition and banishment—unjust we are told—of its abbot Fulk. Etard Abbot of Saint Peter’s. 1096–1107. William appointed a monk of Jumièges called Etard or Walter, who ruled well, we are told, for eleven years, till Fulk came back with letters from the Pope, on which his successor cheerfully made way for him again.[1556] No Norman bishopric was vacant at the time of William’s entry, nor did any become vacant for more than a year. February, 1098. Then in the midst of events which are to be told hereafter, the news came that the throne of Bayeux was vacant by the death of Odo far away at Palermo. William at once bestowed the staff on Turold the brother of Hugh of Evermouth, seemingly the same Hugh who figures in the legend of Hereward as his son-in-law and successor.[1557] Turold Bishop of Bayeux. 1098–1195. This prelate sat for seven years, and then, for reasons of his own, gave up his see, and became a monk at Bec.[1558]

§ 7. The Last Dispute between William and Anselm.
1097.

Christmas, 1096–1097. The year which followed William’s acquisition of Normandy was a busy year in many ways. The King passed the winter in the duchy; the greater part of the year he spent in England. He was largely occupied with the affairs of Wales and Scotland, and in this year came the last dispute between the King and the Archbishop, and the first departure of Anselm from England. Since their reconciliation at Windsor two years before, there had been no open breach between them. State of Wales at the end of 1096. The first difference arose out of the events of the Welsh war. At the end of the year which saw William master of Normandy, he seemed to have wholly lost his hold on Wales. Except Glamorgan and the one isolated castle of Pembroke, the Britons seemed to have won back their whole land.[1559] The affairs of Wales brought the King Easter, April 5, 1097.
William comes to England. back from Normandy, and he designed to hold the Easter Gemót in its usual place at Winchester. Stress of weather however hindered him from reaching England in time for the festival. He landed at Arundel on Easter eve, and thence went to Windsor, where the Assembly Assembly of Windsor.was therefore held, somewhat later than the usual time.[1560] The meeting was followed by a great expedition into Wales, Seeming conquest of Wales.and by a submission of the country which events a few months later proved to be very nominal indeed.[1561] But there was at last an apparent success. William seemed to be greater than ever; he had, by whatever means, won Normandy and recovered Wales. And, more than this, the beginnings of his Norman government had been good; he had thus far shown himself a better nursing-father of the Church in his duchy than his brother Robert had done. Good hopes for the future. A hope therefore arose in many minds that the days of victory and peace might be days of reformed government in England also, and that King and Primate might be able to join in some great measure for the improvement of discipline and manners.[1562] In this hope they were disappointed, as they were likely to be, especially if they reckoned on any long time of peace with the Britons. But the first renewed breach between the King and the Archbishop arose from quite a new cause. William complains of Anselm’s contingent to the Welsh war. When the King came back from the Welsh war, he sent a letter to Anselm, angrily complaining of the nature of the Archbishop’s military contingent to his army. The knights whom Anselm had sent had been so badly equipped and so useless in war that he owed him no thanks for them but rather the contrary.[1563] This story is commonly told as if Anselm had been the colonel of a regiment whose men were, through his fault, utterly unfit for service. Anselm had indeed, as we have seen, once held somewhat of a warlike command, but it had been of a passive kind; Estimate of the complaint. he was certainly not expected to go to the Welsh war himself. In truth the complaint is against knights; doubtless, if the knights were bad, their followers would be worse; but it is of knights that the King speaks. Position of the Archbishop’s knights. If I rightly understand the relation between the Archbishop and his military tenants, these knights were men who held lands of the archbishopric by the tenure of discharging all the military service to which the whole estates of the archbishopric were bound.[1564] It was doubtless the business of their lord to see that the service was paid, that the proper number of knights, each with his proper number of followers, went to the royal standard. But one can hardly think that it was part of the Archbishop’s business to look into every military detail, as if he had been their commanding officer. It was not Anselm’s business to find their arms and accoutrements; they held their lands by the tenure of finding such things for themselves. The King was dissatisfied with the archiepiscopal contingent, and, from his point of view, most likely not without reason. Anselm’s troops might be expected to be among the least serviceable parts of the army. Gentlemen and yeomen of Kent—we may begin to use those familiar names—could have had no great experience of warfare; there were no private wars to keep their hands in practice; they could not be so well fitted for war in general or specially for Welsh war, either as the picked mercenaries of the King or as the tried followers of the Earl of Chester and the Lord of Glamorgan. William, as a military commander, might naturally be annoyed at the poor figure cut by the Archbishop’s knights; but there is every reason to think that, in point of law, his complaint against the Archbishop was unjust. It seems to be shown to be so by the fact that the charge which the King brought against Anselm on this account was one which in the end he found it better to drop. Anselm summoned to the King’s court. But he now bade Anselm to be ready to do right to him, according to the judgement of his court, whenever he should think fit to summon him for that end.[1565]

Anselm’s distress. Anselm seems to have been thoroughly disheartened by this fresh blow. And yet it was no more than what he had been looking for. Over and over again he had said that between him and William there could be no lasting peace, that under such a king as William there could be no real reform.[1566] And the new grievance was a personal one; whether the charge was right or wrong, it had nothing to do with the interests of the Church or with good morals; it simply touched his relations to the King as his temporal lord. Since the meeting at Windsor two years before, though William had given Anselm no kind of help in his plans, he does not seem to have openly thwarted them, except, as seems implied throughout, by still refusing his leave for the holding of a synod. His weariness of England. At the same time there had been quite enough to make Anselm thoroughly weary of England and her King and of everything to do with her. And the visits of the Cardinal of Albano and the Abbot of Saint Benignus had done Anselm no good. Change in Anselm’s feelings. From this time we mark the beginning of a certain change in him which, without in any way morally blaming him, we must call a change for the worse. Left to himself, he seems not to have had the faintest scruple as to the customs which were established alike in England and in Normandy. He was unwilling to accept the metropolitan office at all; but he made no objection to the particular way of receiving it which was the use of England and of Normandy. He had, without scruple or protest, received the staff of Canterbury from the son as he had received the staff of Bec from the father. His wish to go to Rome to receive the pallium was fully according to precedent, and it was only the petty captiousness of the King that turned it into a matter of offence. His yearnings towards Rome. But the mere talking about Rome and the Pope which the discussion had led to was not wholesome; and everything that had since happened had tended to put Rome and the Pope more and more into Anselm’s head. The coming of the Legate, the rebukes of the Legate, even the base insinuations of his undutiful suffragans against the validity of his appointment, would all help to bring about a certain morbid frame of mind, a craving after Rome and its Bishop as the one centre of shelter and comfort among his troubles. The very failure of Walter’s mission, the unworthy greediness and subserviency into which the Legate had fallen, the utter break-down of the later mission of Abbot Jeronto, would all tend the same way. Anselm would hold, not that the Pope was corrupt, but that none but the Pope in his own person could be trusted. He would have nothing more to do with his unfaithful agents; he would go himself to the fountain-head which could not fail him. And he to whom he would go was not simply the Pope, any Pope; it was Urban the Second, the reformer, the preacher of the crusade. Personal position of Urban. Since Anselm’s work had begun, the world had been filled with the personal fame of the Pontiff in whose cause he had striven. In the same council which had stirred the common heart of Christendom Urban had denounced those customs of England to which Anselm had conformed in his own appointment and which he had promised to defend against all men. The rules laid down at Clermont against the acceptance of ecclesiastical benefices from lay hands not only condemned his own appointment, made before those decrees were issued; it condemned also the consecrations to the sees of Hereford and Worcester which he had himself performed since they had been issued. Amid the reign of unlaw, amid the constant breaches of discipline, the frightful sins against moral right, which he had daily to behold and which he was kept back from duly censuring, with none to support him outwardly, none but a few chosen ones to understand his inward thoughts, it is not wonderful if distant Rome seemed to him a blessed haven of rest from the troubles and sorrows of England. Let him flee thither at any cost, and have peace. Let him seek the counsel of the ghostly superior to whom he looked up in faith, and to whom he had been so faithful; to him he would open his soul; from him he would receive guidance, perhaps strength, in a course which was beset with so many difficulties on all sides. Ideal aspect of Rome. Rome, seen far away, looked pure and holy; its Pontiff seemed the one embodiment of right and law, the one shadow of God left upon earth, in a world of force and falsehood and foulness of life, a world where the civil sword was left in the hands of kings like William and Philip, and where an Emperor like Henry still wielded it in defiance of anathemas. At such a distance he would not see that the policy of Popes had already learned to be even more worldly and crooked than that of kings and emperors. He had not learned, what Englishmen had already learned, that gold was as powerful in the counsels of the Holy See as ever it was in the closet of the Red King. The Pope’s agents and messengers might take bribes; the Pope himself, the holy College around him, would never sink to such shame. The majestic and attractive side of the Roman system was all that would present itself to his eyes. He would flee to the blessed shelter and be at peace. He had had enough of the world of kings and courts, the world where men of God were called on to send men to fight the battles of this life, and were called in question if swords were not sharp enough or if horses were not duly trained and caparisoned. Weary and sick at heart, he would turn away from such a scene and from its thankless duties; he would, for a while at least, leave the potsherds of the earth to strive with the potsherds of the earth; he would go where he might perhaps win leave to throw aside his burthen, or where, failing that, he might receive renewed strength to bear it.

New position taken by Anselm. In all this we can thoroughly enter into Anselm’s feelings, nor are we called upon to pronounce any censure upon either his feelings or his conduct. But it is plain that he was now taking up a wholly different position from that which he had taken at Rockingham, a position in which he could not expect to meet with, and in which he did not meet with, the same support which he had met with at Rockingham. At Gillingham and at Rockingham Anselm did nothing which could be fairly construed as a defiance of the law or an appeal to the Pope against any lawful authority of the King. All that he did was to ask the King’s leave to go for the pallium, that is to do what all his predecessors had done, to obey what might be as fairly called a custom of the realm as any other. Aspect of his conduct. In the discussions which now began, his conduct would, to say the least, have, in the eyes of any but the most friendly judges, another look. He was asking leave to go to Rome, not to discharge an established duty, but, as it might be not unfairly argued, simply to gratify a caprice of his own. He might rightly ask for such leave; but it rested with the King’s discretion to grant or to refuse it, and no formal wrong would be done to him by refusing it. And to ask leave to go and consult the Pope, not because of any meddling with his spiritual office, not on account of any religious or ecclesiastical difficulty, but because the King had threatened him with a suit, just or unjust, in a purely temporal matter, had very much the air of appealing from the King’s authority to the Pope. We must remember throughout that Anselm nowhere makes the claim which Odo and William of Saint-Calais made before him, which Thomas of London made after him, to be exempt from temporal jurisdiction on the ground of his order. As such claims had no foundation in English law, neither was it at all in the spirit of Anselm to press them. All that he wanted was to be allowed to seek help in his troubles in the only quarter where he believed that help might be found. Causes of his loss of general support. But the petition for leave to seek it was put in a form and under circumstances which might well have awakened some distrust, some unwillingness, in minds far better disposed towards him than that of the Red King. We may not for a moment doubt the perfect singlemindedness of Anselm, his perfect righteousness from the point of view of his own conscience. But we cannot wonder that, in the new controversy, he failed to have the barons and people of England at his side, as he had had them on the day of trial at Rockingham and on the day of peace-making at Windsor.

The belief that the supposed season of peace might be a season of reform had been shared by Anselm himself. Anselm’s continued demands of reform. He had more than once urged the King on the subject; but William had always answered that he was too busy dealing with his many enemies to think about such matters.[1567] Such an answer was a mere put-off; yet a more discouraging one might have been given. Anselm had therefore fully made up his mind to make the most of this special opportunity, and to make yet one more urgent appeal to the King to help him in his work.[1568] He determines not to answer the new summons.And now, at the meeting where he trusted to make this attempt, he was summoned to appear as defendant on a purely temporal charge. To that charge he determined to make no answer. But surely the reason which is given is rather the reason of Eadmer afterwards than of Anselm at the time. Working of the King’s court. Anselm is made to say that in the King’s court everything depended on the King’s nod, and that his cause would be examined in that court, without law, without equity, without reason.[1569] He had not found it so at Rockingham, nor did he find it so now. But we can quite understand that, with his mind full of so much greater matters, he might think it better to let his judges settle matters as they might, for or against him, in questions as to horses and weapons and military training. The worst that could happen would be another payment of money.[1570] Anselm believed that the charge was a mere pretence, devised simply to hinder him from making the appeal to the King which he designed.[1571] He therefore made up his mind to make no answer to the summons, and to let the law, if there was any law in the matter, take its course.[1572] When he looked around at the spoliation of the Church, at the evils of all kinds which had crept in through lack of discipline, he feared the judgement of God on himself, if he did not make one last effort.[1573] His heart indeed sank when he saw that, of all the evil that was done, the King either was himself the doer or took pleasure in them that did it. He determines on a last effort. But he would strive once more; if his last effort failed, he would appeal to a higher spiritual power than his own; he would see what the authority and judgement of the Apostolic See could do.[1574]

Whitsun Gemót. May 24, 1097. The Whitsun festival came, and Anselm went to the Assembly. The place of meeting is not mentioned; according to usage it would be Westminster. Though the suit was hanging over Anselm, he went, not as a defendant in a suit, but as a chief member of the Gemót. He seems to have been graciously received by the King; Anselm favourably received; his last appeal. at least we hear of him at the royal table, and he had opportunities of private access to the royal ear. Of these chances he did not fail to take advantage for his purpose; but all was in vain; nothing at all tending to reform was to be got out of William Rufus.[1575] In this way the earlier days of meeting, the days of the actual festival, were spent. Then, as usual, the various matters of business which had to be dealt with by the King and his Witan were brought forward.[1576] Surmises as to the charge against Anselm. Among other questions men were eagerly asking what would become of the charge against the Archbishop as to the bad equipment of his knights in the late Welsh campaign. Would he have to pay some huge sum of money, or would he have to pray for mercy, and be thereby so humbled that he could never lift up his head again?[1577] Anselm’s thoughts meanwhile were set upon quite other matters. He had made his last attempt on the King’s conscience, and he had failed. There was nothing more to be done by his own unaided powers. He determines to ask leave to go to Rome. He must seek for the counsel and help of one greater than himself. He called together a body of nobles of his own choice, those doubtless in whom he could put most trust, and he bade them carry a message from him to the King, to say that he was driven by the He declares his purpose to a chosen body. utmost need to ask his leave to go to Rome.[1578] We ask why he who had been on such intimate terms with the King during the earlier days of the meeting, was now forced to send a message instead of speaking to the King face to face. We may suppose that the arrangement was the same as at Rockingham, that there was an outer and an inner chamber, and that, while the suit against the Archbishop was pending, he was not allowed to take his natural place among the King’s counsellors. During the days of festival, he had been a guest and a friend; now that the days of business had come, he had changed into a defendant. We are not told what the lords of his choice said or thought of the message which he put into their hands. Aspect of the demand. Unless it was accompanied by a rather full explanation, it must have been startling. With the help of Eadmer we can follow the workings of Anselm’s mind; but to one who heard the request suddenly it must have had a strange sound. Did the Archbishop wish to complain to the Pope because the King was displeased with the trim and conduct of his military contingent? The King at least, when the message was taken to him, was utterly amazed. But William was not in one of his worst moods; he was sarcastic, but not wrathful. He refused the licence. The King’s answer. There could be no need for Anselm to go to the Pope. He would never believe that Anselm had committed any sin so black that none but the Pope could absolve him. And as for counsel, Anselm was much better fitted to give it to the Pope than the Pope was to give it to Anselm. Anselm took the refusal meekly. “Power is in his hands; he says what pleases him. What he refuses now he may perhaps grant another day. I will multiply my prayers.”[1579] Anselm had therefore to stay in England. The charge against Anselm withdrawn. But the formal charge against him was withdrawn. Perhaps the King had merely made it in a fit of ill humour, and had long given up any serious thought of pressing it. And, if he really wished to annoy Anselm, he had now a way in which he might annoy him far more thoroughly and with much greater advantage than by any mere temporal suit.

Affairs of Wales. June-August, 1097. This year was a year of gatherings, alike for counsel and for warfare. The seeming submission of Wales was soon found to be utterly hollow. From Midsummer till August William was engaged in another British expedition, one which brought nothing but immediate toil and trouble, but of whose more distant results we shall have again to speak. Another assembly. On his return he summoned, perhaps not a general Gemót, but at any rate a council of prelates and lords, to discuss grave matters touching the state of the kingdom.[1580] We would fain hear something of their debates on other affairs than those of Anselm; but that privilege is denied us. Anselm’s request again refused. We only know that, when the council was about to break up, when all its members were eager to get to their homes, Anselm earnestly craved that his request to go to Rome might be granted, and that the King again refused.[1581]

William Rufus seems never to have been happy save when he was himself moving and keeping everybody else in motion. It must have been in his days as in the days of Constantius, when the means of getting from place to place broke down through the multitude of bishops who were going to and fro for the endless councils.[1582] In the month of October the bishops and great lords at least, if no one else, were brought together for the fourth time this year. Assembly at Winchester. October 14, 1097. This time the place of meeting was Winchester; the day was the day of Saint Calixtus, the thirty-first anniversary of the great battle. We hear nothing of any other business, but only of the renewed petition of Anselm. It is clear that the idea of going to the Pope had seized on Anselm’s mind to an unhealthy degree. He could not help pressing it in season and out of season, clearly to the weakening both of his influence and of his position. Anselm renews his request. He made his request to the King both with his own lips—this time he was no defendant—and by the lips of others. The King was now thoroughly tired of the subject; he was now not sarcastic, but thoroughly annoyed and angry. He was weary of Anselm’s endlessly pressing a request which he must by this time know would not be granted. Anselm had wearied him too much; he now directly commanded that he should cease from his importunity, that he should submit to the judgement of the court and pay a fine for the annoyance which he had given to his sovereign.[1583] The King had an undoubted right to refuse the licence; but it is hard to see why the Archbishop was to be fined for asking for it. Anselm again impleaded. By this turn Anselm was again made a defendant. Anselm now offers to give good reasons, such as the King could not gainsay, for the course which he took. Alternative given to Anselm. The King refuses to hear any reasons, and, with a mixture of licence, threat, and defiance, he gives the Archbishop a kind of alternative. Anselm must understand that, if he goes, the King will seize the archbishopric into his own hands, and will never again receive him as archbishop.[1584] There was some free expression of feeling in these assemblies; for this announcement of the King’s will was met by a storm of shouts on different sides, some cheering the King and some the Archbishop.[1585] The meeting adjourned. Some at last, the moderate party perhaps, proposed and carried an adjournment till the morrow, hoping meanwhile to settle matters in some other way.[1586]

Thursday, October 15, 1097. The next morning came; as so often before, Anselm and his friends sat waiting the royal pleasure. Some bishops and lords came out and asked Anselm what his purpose now was about the affair of yesterday. He had not, he answered, agreed to the adjournment Anselm and the bishops and lords. because he had any doubt as to his own purpose, but only lest he should seem to set no store by the opinion of others. He was in the same mind in which he had been yesterday; he would again crave the King’s leave to go. Go he must, for the sake of his own soul’s health, for the sake of the Christian religion, for the King’s own honour and profit, if he would only believe it.[1587] The bishops and lords asked if he had anything else to say; as for leave to go to Rome, it was no use talking; the King would not grant it. Anselm answers that, if the King will not grant it, he must follow the scripture and obey God rather than man. We here see that Anselm had brooded over his griefs till he had reached the verge of fanaticism. Such language would have been exaggerated, had it been used when he was forbidden to go for the pallium according to ancient custom; it was utterly out of place when no clear duty of any kind, no law of eternal right, no positive law of the Church, bade him to go to Rome in defiance of the King’s orders.

Speech of Bishop Walkelin. At this stage we again meet a personal spokesman on the other side; Bishop Walkelin of Winchester speaks where doubtless William of Saint-Calais would have spoken, had he still lived. Walkelin’s argument was one hardly suited to the mind of Anselm. The King and his lords knew the Archbishop’s ways; they knew that he was a man not easily turned from his purpose; but it was not easy to believe that he would be firm in his purpose of casting aside the honour and wealth of the great office which he held, merely for the sake of going to Rome.[1588] Anselm’s face lighted up, and he fixed his keen eyes on Walkelin, with the words, “Truly I shall be firm.” This answer was taken to the King, and was debated for a long while in the inner council. Anselm and the bishops. At last Anselm bethinks him that his suffragans ought rather to be advising him than advising the King; he sends and bids them to come to him. Three of them come at the summons, Walkelin, the ritualist Osmund, the cunning leech John of Bath. They sat down on each side of their metropolitan. Anselm called on them, as bishops and prelates in the Church of God. If they were really willing to guard the right and the justice of God as they were ready to guard the laws and usages of a mortal man,[1589] they will let him tell them in full his reason for the course which he is taking, and they will then give him their counsel in God’s name.[1590] The three bishops chose first to confer with their brethren; Walkelin and Robert were then sent in to the King, and the whole body of bishops came once more to Anselm. The bishops’ portrait of themselves. We now see the portrait of the prelates of the Red King’s day, as it is drawn by their own spokesman. Anselm they knew to be a devout and holy man who had his conversation in heaven. But they were hindered by the kinsfolk whom they sustained, by the manifold affairs of the world which they loved; they could not rise to the loftiness of Anselm’s life or trample on this world as he did.[1591] But if he would come down to them, and would walk in their way,[1592] then they would consult for him as they would consult for themselves, and would help him in his affairs as if they were their own. If he would persist in standing alone and referring everything to God,[1593] they would not go beyond the fealty which they owed to the King. This was plain speaking enough; the doctrine of interest against right has seldom, even in these later times, been more openly set forth. One would think that the bishops simply meant to strengthen Anselm’s fixed purpose; they could not hope to move him with arguments which certainly did not do justice to their own case. Anselm’s answer. Anselm’s scholastic training always enabled him to seize an advantage in argument. “You have spoken well,” he answered; “go to your lord; I will cleave to God.”[1594] They did as he bade them; they went, and Anselm was left almost alone; the few friends who clave to him sat apart at his bidding, and prayed to God to bring the matter to a good ending.[1595]

In all these debates it is the bishops who play the worst part. They seem to say in calm earnest the same kind of things which the King said in wrath or in jest. Part of the lay lords. After a short delay, they come back, accompanied by some lay barons, and the tone of their discourse is at once raised. Anselm has no longer the laity on his side, as he had at Rockingham; nor can we wonder at the change. The speech which is now made is harsh, perhaps captious; but at all events the stand is now taken on direct legal grounds, no longer on the base motives confessed to by the bishops. The King sent word that Anselm had troubled him, embittered him, tortured him, by his complaints.[1596] Anselm’s promise to obey the customs. The Archbishop is reminded that, after the suit at Rockingham and the reconciliation which followed at Windsor—a reconciliation which is now attributed to the earnest prayers of Anselm’s friends[1597]—he had sworn to obey the laws and customs of the realm, and to defend them against all men.[1598] After this promise the King had believed that Anselm would give him no more trouble.[1599] But he had already broken his oath—the charge is delicately worded—when He is charged with breach of promise. he threatened to go to Rome without the King’s leave.[1600] For any of the great men of the realm so to do was utterly unheard of; for him most of all. Anselm’s enemies had now the advantage of him; he certainly had uttered words which might be not unfairly construed as an intended breach of the law. They therefore called on him to make oath that he would never appeal to the Holy See in any shape in any matter which the King might lay upon him; Alternative given to him. otherwise he must leave the kingdom with all speed, on what conditions he already knew. And if he chose to stay and take the oath, he must submit to be fined at the judgement of the court for having troubled the King so much about a matter in which he had after all not stuck firm to his own purpose.[1601] This last condition seems hard measure; there was surely no treason in making a request to the King which it rested with the King to grant or to refuse. With regard to the alleged breach of promise they undoubtedly stood on firmer ground.

The King’s messengers did not wait for an answer. Anselm therefore rose; followed by his companions, he went in to the King, and, according to custom, sat down beside him.[1602] He asked whether the message which he had just heard had really come from the King, and he received for answer that it had. Anselm and the King. Anselm then said that he had undoubtedly made the promise to observe the laws, but that he made it only in God’s name, and so far as the laws were according to right, and could be obeyed in God’s name.[1603] Qualifications and distinctions. The King and his lords answered that in the promise there had been no mention of God or of right.[1604] We should be well pleased to have the actual words of the promise; but we need not suppose any direct misstatement of fact on either side; the forms of oaths and promises are commonly capable of more than one interpretation. Words which one side looks on as surplusage another side looks on as the root of the whole matter. But the form of the answer gave Anselm, if not a logical, at least a rhetorical, advantage. If there was no mention of God or right, what was there mention of? No Christian man could be bound to observe laws which were contrary to God and right. We have here reached the beginning of those distinctions and qualifications which play so great a part in the debates of the next century; but with Anselm the appeal is simply to God and right; there is not a word about the privileges of his order. His hearers murmured and wagged their heads, but said nothing openly.[1605] Anselm’s discourse; duty to God always excepted. So the Primate went on to lay down at some length the doctrine that every promise of earthly duty involved in its own nature a saving of duty to God. Faith was pledged in earthly matters according to the faith due to God; faith to God was therefore excepted by the very terms of the promise.[1606] The argument is doubtless sound, as regards the individual conscience; it leaves out of sight, and any argument of that age would probably have left out of sight, the truth that men may differ as to what is duty towards God, and that no lawgiver or administrator of the law can possibly listen to every scruple which may be urged on such grounds in favour of disobedience. To Anselm’s mind the case was clear. A custom which hindered him from going to consult the Vicar of Saint Peter for his own soul’s health and for the good of the Church was a custom contrary to God and right, a custom which ought to be cast aside and disobeyed. No man who feared God would hinder him from going to the head of Christendom on God’s service. He ended with a parable. The King would not think himself well served if any powerful vassal of his should by terrors and threatenings hinder any other of his subjects from doing his duty and service to him.

Answer of Count Robert. It was perhaps not wholly in enmity that the Count of Meulan, who at Rockingham had frankly professed his admiration of Anselm, joined the King at this stage in trying to turn off the matter with a jest. The Primate, he said, was preaching them a sermon; but prudent people could not admit his line of argument.[1607] And certainly Anselm’s present line of argument, the assertion of individual conscience against established law, could not be admitted by any legislative or judicial assembly. The barons against Anselm. A disturbance followed; the barons who had stood by the Archbishop when he lay under a manifestly unjust charge joined in the clamour against him when he declared that the law of the land was something to be despised and disobeyed. But Anselm’s conscience was not disturbed; he sat quiet and silent, with his face towards the ground, till the clamour wore itself out.[1608] He then finished his sermon, as Count Robert called it. He ends his discourse. No Christian man ought to demand of him that he would never appeal to the blessed Peter or his Vicar. So to swear would be to abjure Peter, and to abjure Peter would be to abjure Christ who had set Peter as the chief over his Church. He then turned to the King with a kind of gentle defiance; “When I deny Christ, O King, for your sake, then will I not be slow to pay a fine at the judgement of your court for my sin in asking your leave.” Half in anger, half in mockery, Count Robert said, “You will present yourself to Peter and the Pope; but no Pope shall get the better of us, to our knowledge.”[1609] “God knows,” answered Anselm, “what may be in store for you; He will be able, if He thinks good, to guide me to the threshold of his apostles.” With these words the Archbishop rose, and went again into the outer chamber.

The King and his counsellors seem to have been moved by the calm resolution of Anselm, even when the letter of the law was on their own side. Either Rufus was not in his most savage mood, or his wily Achitophel contrived to keep him in some restraint. Nothing could be gained by keeping Anselm in the kingdom. He had already had the choice set before him. Anselm to be allowed to go, but the archbishopric to be seized if he went. He might go; but, if he went, the archbishopric would be seized into the King’s hands. He had made his choice, and he should be allowed to carry it out without hindrance; only he knew on what conditions. The decision was on the whole not altogether unfair; but the inherent pettiness of the magnanimous King could not help throwing in an insult or two by the way. If Anselm chose to go, all that he had, in Rufus’ version of the law, at once passed to the King. Anselm allowed to go, but the archbishopric to be seized. He was therefore told, in the message which was sent out to him, that he might go, but that he might take nothing with him which belonged to the King.[1610] Anselm did not, like William of Saint-Calais, bargain for the means of crossing in state with dogs, hawks, and servants.[1611] He seems tacitly to raise a point of law. The lands of the archbishopric might pass to the King; but that could not take from him his mere personal goods. “I have,” he said, “horses, clothes, furniture, which perhaps somebody may say are the King’s. But I will go naked and on foot, rather than give up my purpose.” When these words were reported to Rufus, for a moment he felt a slight sense of shame.[1612] He did not wish the Archbishop to go naked and barefoot. But within eleven days he must be ready at the haven to cross the sea, and a messenger from the King would be there to tell him what he and his companions would be allowed to take with them. The King’s bidding was announced to the Archbishop, and Anselm’s companions wished, now the matter seemed to be settled, to go at once to their own quarters. But Anselm would not leave the man who was his earthly lord, who had once been, in form at least, his friend, to whom he held himself to stand in so close an official and personal relation, without one word face to face. Anselm’s last interview with the King. He entered the presence-chamber, and once more the saint sat down side by side with the foulest of sinners. “My lord,” said Anselm, “I am going. If I could have gone with your good will, it would have better become you, and it would have been more pleasing to every good man. But since things are turned another way, though it grieves me as regards you, as regards myself I will, according to my power, bear it with a calm mind. And not even for this will I, by the Lord’s help, withdraw myself from the love of your soul’s health. Now therefore, not knowing when I may again see you, I commend you to God, and, as a ghostly father speaking to a beloved son, as an Archbishop of Canterbury speaking to a King of England, I would, before I go, give you my blessing, if you do not refuse it.” For a moment Rufus was touched; his good angel perhaps spoke to him then for the last time. He blesses Rufus. “I refuse not your blessing,” was his answer. The man of God arose; the King bowed his head, and Anselm made the sign of the cross over it. He then went forth, leaving the King and all that were with him wondering at the ready cheerfulness with which he spoke and went.[1613]

Anselm at Canterbury. Rufus and Anselm never met again. From Winchester the Archbishop went to his own home at Canterbury.[1614] The day after he came there, he gathered together his monks, and addressed them in a farewell discourse.[1615] He takes the pilgrim’s staff. Then, in the sight of a crowd of monks, clerks, and lay folk, he took the staff and scrip of a pilgrim before the altar. He commended all present to Christ, and set forth amidst their tears and wailings. The same day he and his comrades reached Dover. There he found that the passing current of better feeling which had touched the King’s heart as he bowed his head for Anselm’s blessing had been but for a moment. Rufus had gone back to his old mind, to the spirit of petty insult and petty gain. William of Warelwast at Dover. The King’s obedient clerk, William of Warelwast, one day to be the builder of the twin towers of Exeter, was there already. For fifteen days Anselm and his companions were kept at Dover, waiting for a favourable wind. Meanwhile William of Warelwast went in and out with Anselm; he ate at his table, and said not a word of the purpose which had brought him.[1616] On the fifteenth day the wind changed, and the sailors urged the Archbishop’s party to cross at once. When they were on the shore ready to start, William stopped the Archbishop as if he had been a runaway slave or a criminal escaping from justice,[1617] and in the King’s name forbade him to cross, till he had declared everything that he had in his baggage. In hope of finding money, all Anselm’s bags and trunks were opened and ransacked, in the sight of a vast crowd that stood by wondering at so unheard of a deed, and cursing those who did it.[1618] The bags were opened and ransacked in vain. Nothing was found that the King’s faithful clerk thought worth his master’s taking. Anselm crosses to Whitsand. The Archbishop, with Baldwin and Eadmer, was then allowed to set sail, and they landed safely at Whitsand.

The archbishopric seized by the King. As soon as the King heard that Anselm was out of the kingdom, he did as he had said that he would do; he again seized all the estates of the archbishopric into his own hands. This was only what was to be looked for; it was fully in accordance with the doctrines of Flambard, and better kings than William Rufus would have done the like in the like case. But Rufus or his agents went much further. Our guide implies that he acted as if Anselm had been an intruder in the archbishopric. Anselm’s acts declared null. All the acts and orders of Anselm during his four years’ primacy—that is, we must suppose, all leases, grants, and legal transactions of every kind—were declared null and void.[1619] Much loss and wrong must have been thus caused to many persons. A man who had, in the old phrase, bought land of the archbishopric for a term or for lives[1620] would lose his land, and, we may be sure, would not get back his money. A clerk collated by the Archbishop might be turned out of his living to make room for a nominee of the King. It is no wonder then that the wrongs which were done now were said to be greater than the wrongs which had been done when the archiepiscopal estates had before been seized after the death of Lanfranc.[1621] For at any rate the acts of Lanfranc were not reversed. One feels a certain desire to know what became of the Archbishop’s knights whose array had so displeased the King earlier in the year. But we hear nothing of them or of any particular class; all is quite general. In one case indeed it is quite certain that the rule that all Anselm’s acts should be treated as invalid was not carried out. The monks keep Peckham. The monks of Christ Church clearly kept their temporary possession of the manor of Peckham. For they spent the whole income of it on great architectural works which Anselm himself had begun. The metropolitan church, so lately rebuilt by Lanfranc, had already become small in the eyes of a younger generation, as indeed it was smaller than many minsters of the same date. The church of Lanfranc had followed the usual Norman plan; the short eastern limb, the monks’ choir, was under the tower.[1622] Rebuilding of the choir of Christ Church. The arrangements of the minster were now recast after a new pattern which did not commonly prevail till many years later. The eastern limb was rebuilt on a far greater scale, itself forming as it were a cruciform church, with its own transepts, its own towers, one of which in after days received the name of Anselm. Ernulf Prior 1096? Abbot of Peterborough, 1107; Bishop of Rochester, 1115. This work, begun by Anselm before his banishment, was carried on in his absence by the prior of his appointment, Ernulf—Earnwulf—a monk of his old house of Bec, but perhaps of English birth, who rose afterwards to be Abbot of Peterborough and Bishop of Rochester.[1623] In marked contrast to the speed with which Lanfranc had carried through his work, the choir begun by Ernulf and carried on by his successor Prior Conrad was not consecrated till late in the days of Henry.[1624]

Comparison of the trials of William of Saint-Calais, Anselm, and Thomas. After reading the accounts of these two great debates or trials, at Rockingham and at Winchester, it is impossible to avoid looking both backwards and forwards. The story of these proceedings must be told, as I have throughout tried to tell it, with an eye to the earlier proceedings against William of Saint-Calais, to the later proceedings against Thomas of London. The three stories supply an instructive contrast. In each case a bishop is arraigned before a civil tribunal; in each case the bishop appeals to the Pope; but beyond that the three men have little in common. Comparison of the men. William and Thomas were both of them, though in widely different senses, playing a part; it is Anselm alone who is throughout perfectly simple and unconscious. Through the whole of Anselm’s life, we feel that he never could have acted otherwise than as he did act. He never stopped to think what was the right thing for a saintly archbishop to do; he simply did at all times what his conscience told him that he ought to do. Position of Thomas; Thomas, perfectly sincere, thoroughly bent on doing his duty, was still following a conscious ideal of duty; he was always thinking what a saintly archbishop ought to do; above all things, we may be sure, he was thinking what Anselm, in the like case, would have done. Thus, while Anselm acts quite singly, Thomas is, consciously though sincerely, playing a part. of William of Saint-Calais. William of Saint-Calais is playing a part in a far baser sense; he appeals to the Pope, he appeals to ecclesiastical privileges in general, simply to serve his own personal ends. He appealed to those privileges more loudly than anybody else, when he thought that by that appeal he might himself escape condemnation. He trampled them under foot more scornfully than anybody else, when he thought that by so doing he might bring about the condemnation of Anselm and his own promotion. But it is curious to see how in some points the sincere acting of Thomas and the insincere acting of William agree as distinguished from the pure single-mindedness of Anselm. Both William and Thomas distinctly appeal to the Pope from the sentence of the highest court in their own land. Anselm does not strictly appeal to the Pope. We cannot say that Anselm did this; he does not refuse the sentence of the King’s court; he does not ask the Pope to set aside the sentence of the King’s court; the utmost that he does is to say that it is his duty to obey God rather than man, and that his duty to God obliges him to go to the Pope. To the Pope therefore he will go, even though the King forbids him; but he is ready at the same time to bear patiently the spoiling of his goods as the penalty of going. This is assuredly not an appeal to the Pope in the same sense as the appeals made by William and Thomas.

Among the marks of difference in the cases is that both William and Thomas strongly assert the privileges of their order; none but the Pope may judge a bishop. Anselm does not assert clerical privileges. Anselm never once, during his whole dispute with William Rufus, makes the slightest claim to any such privilege; he never breathes a word about the rights of the clerical order. The doctrine that none but the Pope may judge the Archbishop of Canterbury—nothing is said about other priests or other bishops—is heard of only once during the whole story.[1625] And then it is not put forth by Anselm; it is not openly put forth by anybody; it is merely mentioned by Eadmer as something which came into the minds of the undutiful bishops as a kind of after-thought. This most likely means that it was not really thought of at the time, either by the bishops or by anybody else, but that Eadmer, writing by fresh lights learned at Rome and at Bari, could no longer understand a state of things in which it was not thought of by somebody. The truth doubtless is that in Anselm’s day the doctrine of clerical exemption from temporal jurisdiction was a novelty which was creeping in. It was well known enough for Odo and William of Saint-Calais to catch at it to serve their own ends; it was not so fully established that it was at all a matter of conscience with Anselm to assert it. By the time of Thomas every doctrine of the kind had so grown that its assertion had become a point of conscience with every strict churchman. Question of observing the customs. But there is another point in which the case of Anselm and the case of Thomas agree as distinguished from the case of William of Saint-Calais. In this last case nothing turned on any promise of the Bishop to obey the customs of the realm. Much in the case of Anselm, much more in the case of Thomas, turned on such a promise. In each case the Archbishop pleads a certain reservation expressed or understood; but there is a wide difference between the reservation made by Anselm and the reservation made by Thomas. The favourite formula with Thomas, the formula which he proposes, the formula which he is at Clarendon with difficulty persuaded to withdraw and on which he again falls back,[1626] is “saving my order.” Anselm has nothing to say about his order; he is not fighting for the privileges of any special body of men; he is simply a righteous man clothed with a certain office, the duties of which office he must discharge. It is not his order that he reserves; he reserves only the higher and more abiding names of God and right.

Nature of our reports of the trials. As for the cases themselves and the tribunals before which they were heard, we must always remember that our reports, though very full, are not official. Their authors therefore use technical or non-technical language at pleasure. They assume familiarity with the nature of the court and its mode of procedure; they do not stop to explain many things which we should be very glad if they had stopped to explain. But it is clear that the nature of the proceedings was not exactly the same in the three cases. Comparison of the proceedings in each case. And it is singular that, in point of mere procedure, there seems more likeness between the case of Anselm and the case of Thomas than there is between either and the case of William of Saint-Calais. William William and Thomas summoned to answer a charge. of Saint-Calais and Thomas were both of them, in the strictest sense, summoned before a court to answer a charge. The charges were indeed of quite different kinds in the two cases. William of Saint-Calais was charged with high treason. Thomas, besides a number of demands about money, was charged only with failing to appear in the King’s court in answer to an earlier summons. Anselm seeks advice on a point of law. Anselm, on the other hand, cannot be said to have been really charged with anything, though the King and his party tried to treat him as though he had been. The assembly at Rockingham was gathered at Anselm’s own request, to inform him on a point of law. The King and his bishops tried to treat Anselm as a criminal; but they found that the general feeling of the assembly would not allow them to do so. At Winchester again, Anselm was not summoned to answer any charge, for the charge about the troops in the Welsh war had been dropped at Windsor. The charges, such as they are, which are brought against him turn up as it were casually in the course of the proceedings. Yet the order of things seems much the same in the case of Anselm and in the case of Thomas, while in the case of William of Saint-Calais it seems to be different. Proceedings in the case of William of Saint-Calais. In the case of William of Saint-Calais everything is done in the King’s presence. The Bishop himself has more than once to leave the place of meeting, while particular points are discussed; but there is not that endless going to and fro which there is in the other two cases. In the case of Thomas, as in the case of Anselm, we see plainly the inner room where the King sits with his immediate counsellors, while the Archbishop waits in an outer place with the general body of the assembly. Architectural arrangements. At Northampton we see the architectural arrangement more clearly than either at Rockingham or at Winchester. Thomas enters the great hall, and goes no further, while the King’s inner council is held in the solar.[1627] Constitution of the several assemblies. It is possible, as indeed I have already hinted,[1628] that there was a difference in the nature of the assembly in the case of William of Saint-Calais and in the two cases of Anselm and Thomas. We must remember that in the reign of William Rufus the judicial and administrative system was still only forming itself, and that many things were then vague and irregular, both in fact and in name, which had taken a definite shape in the time of Henry the Second. Between the case of Anselm and the case of Thomas came the justiciarship of Roger of Salisbury and the chancellorship of Thomas himself. The Witenagemót; I am inclined to think that, at Rockingham, at Winchester, at Northampton, the assembly was strictly the great assembly of the nation, the ancient Witenagemót, with such changes in its working as had taken place between the days of the Confessor and the days of William Rufus, and again between the days of William Rufus and the days of Henry the Second. its constitution becomes gradually less popular. Each of these periods of change would of course do something towards taking away from the old popular character of the assembly. At Rockingham that popular character is by no means lost. We are not told where the line, if any, was drawn; but a multitude of monks, clerks, and laymen were there.[1629] At Northampton we hear of no class below the lesser barons; and they, with the sheriffs, wait in the outer hall, till they are specially summoned to the King’s presence. Lessened freedom of speech. At Rockingham too and at Winchester there seems much greater freedom of speech than there is at Northampton. The whole assembly shouts and cheers as it pleases, and a simple knight steps forth to speak and to speak boldly.[1630] At Northampton, as at Rockingham and at Winchester, the Archbishop is allowed the company of his personal followers. William Fitz-Stephen and Herbert of Bosham sit at the feet of Thomas, as Eadmer and Baldwin sit at the feet of Anselm. But at Northampton the disciples are roughly checked in speaking to their master, in a way of which there is no sign in the earlier assemblies. At Rockingham and Winchester again, though the Archbishop stays for the most part outside in the hall, yet he more than once goes unbidden into the presence-chamber, and is even followed thither by his faithful monks. At Northampton Thomas is never admitted to the King’s presence, and no one seems to go into the inner room who is not specially summoned. This may be merely because, as is likely enough, strictness of rule, form, and etiquette had greatly advanced between William Rufus and Henry the Second. Or it may have been because Thomas was strictly summoned to answer a charge, while Anselm was really under no charge at all, but came as a member of the assembly.

The inner and outer council; Another point here arises. I cannot but think that in these great assemblies, consisting of an inner and an outer body, we must see the same kind of distinction which we saw on the great day of Salisbury between the Witan and the landsitting men. foreshadowing of lords and commons. That is, I see in the inner and outer bodies the foreshadowing of Lords and Commons. To this day there is one chamber in which the King’s throne is set; there is another chamber whose occupants do not enter the presence of that throne, except by special summons. I am inclined therefore to see, both in the case of Anselm and in the case of Thomas, a true gathering of the Witan of the realm. Thomas tried before the Witan; Thomas comes, like Strafford or Hastings, to answer a charge before the Court of our Lord the King in Parliament,[1631] that court, which from an assembly of the whole nation, gradually shrank up into an assembly of the present peerage. In the case of Anselm I see the same body acting, not strictly as a court, but rather as the great inquest of the nation, but at the same time fluctuating somewhat, as was but natural in that age, between its judicial and its legislative functions. William before the Thening-mannagemót. But in the tribunal which sat on William of Saint-Calais I am, as I have already said, inclined to see, not the Mickle Gemót of the whole nation, but rather the King’s court in a narrower sense, the representative of the ancient Theningmannagemót, the more strictly official body.[1632] Here we have no division of chambers; the proceedings are strictly those of a court trying a charge, and the King, as chief judge, is present throughout.

Estimate of the three cases. As for the matter of the three cases, the trial of William of Saint-Calais was in itself the perfectly fair trial of a rebel who, in the end, after the custom of the age, came off very lightly for his rebellion. Behaviour of Rufus; There really seems nothing to blame William Rufus for in that matter—William Rufus, that is, still largely guided by Lanfranc—except some characteristic pettinesses just towards the end of the story.[1633] Towards Anselm William appears—save under one or two momentary touches of better feeling—simply as the power of evil striving, by whatever means, to crush the power of good. He seems none the less so, even when on particular points his own case is technically right. of Henry the Second. Henry the Second, acting honestly for the good of his kingdom, both technically and morally right in his main quarrel, stoops to the base and foolish course of trying to crush his adversary by a crowd of charges in which the King seems to have been both morally and technically wrong, and which certainly would never have been brought if the Archbishop had not given offence on other grounds. William Rufus again, and Henry the Second also, each forsook his own position by calling in, when it suited their momentary purposes, the very power which their main position bade them to control and to keep out of their kingdom. Comparison with Henry the First. Not so the great king who came between them. The Lion of Justice knew, and he alone in those days seems to have known, how to carry on a controversy of principle, without ever forsaking his own position, without ever losing his temper or lowering his dignity, without any breach of personal respect and friendship towards the holy man whom his kingly office made it his duty to withstand.

The three years of Anselm’s first sojourn beyond sea concern us for the most part only indirectly. Effect on Anselm of his foreign sojourn. Of their most important aspect, as concerns us, I have spoken elsewhere,[1634] and we shall again see their fruit before the present work is ended. In his journeyings to Lyons, to Rome, to Bari, Anselm learned a new doctrine which he had never found out either at Bec or at Canterbury. It was not for his good that he, who had, like the Primates who had gone before him, received his staff from the King’s hands, and placed his own hands in homage between them, should hear the anathema pronounced against the prince who should bestow or the clerk who should receive any ecclesiastical benefice in such sort as no prince had scrupled to give them, as no clerk had scrupled to receive them, in the days of King Eadward and in the days of King William.[1635] When Anselm came back to England, he came, as we shall see, the same Anselm as of old in every personal quality, in every personal virtue. Change in him. But in all things which touched the relations of popes, kings, and bishops, he came back another man.

His journey. But in the course of Anselm’s adventures, in his foreign journeys, there are details here and there which no Englishman can read without interest. We come across constant signs of the place which England and her Primate held in the minds of men of other lands. Alleged scheme of Odo Duke of Burgundy [1078–1102] against Anselm. We read how no less a prince than Odo Duke of Burgundy, already a crusader in Spain and afterwards a crusader in Palestine, was tempted by the report of the wealth of the great English see to sink into a common robber, and to set forth for the purpose of plundering the Primate as he passed through his land. We read how he was turned from his purpose, when he saw the white hair, the gentle and venerable look, of the Archbishop, the look which won all hearts. Instead of harming him, Odo received his kiss and sought his blessing, and sent him under a safe guard to the borders of his duchy.[1636] We read how the likeness of that venerable face had been painted by cunning limners in the interest of Clement, that the robbers who were sent to seize the faithful follower of Urban might better know their intended victim. Anselm at Rome. We read with some national pride how, at his first interview with Urban, when Anselm bowed himself at the Pontiff’s feet, he was raised, received to his kiss, and seated by him as one of equal rank, the Pope and Patriarch of another world. Council of Lateran. We read how, in the great gathering in the head church of the city and of the world, when no man knew what was the fitting place in a Roman council for a guest such as none had ever seen before, the English Archbishop was placed at the papal bidding in a seat of special honour. Anselm took his seat in that apse which was spared when papal barbarism defaced the long arcades of Constantine, when the patriarchal throne of the world was cast forth as an useless thing,[1637] but which the more relentless havoc of our own day, eager, it would seem, to get rid of all that is older than the dogmas of modern Rome, has ruthlessly swept away. We read how visitors and pilgrims from England bowed to kiss the feet of Anselm, as they would have kissed those of Urban himself, and how the humble saint ever refused such unbecoming worship.[1638] And we are most touched of all to hear how, among all these honours, Anselm was commonly spoken of in Rome, not by his name, not by the titles of his office, but simply as “the holy man.”[1639] At Rome, that name might have a special meaning. It was well deserved by the one suitor at the Roman throne who abstained from the use of Rome’s most convincing argument.

But in the record of Anselm’s wanderings there is one tale which comes home more than any other to the hearts of Englishmen, a tale which carries us back, if not strictly to the days of English freedom, at least to the days when we had a conqueror whom we had made our own. Council of Bari. The fathers are gathered at Bari, in the great minster of the Lykian Nicolas, where the arts of northern and southern Christendom, the massiveness of the Norman, the finer grace of the Greek, are so strangely blended in the pile which was then fresh from the craftsman’s hand. There, in his humility, the pilgrim from Canterbury takes to himself a modest place amongst the other bishops, with the faithful Eadmer sitting at his feet.[1640] The Pope calls on his father and master, Anselm Archbishop of the English, to arise and speak. There, in the city so lately torn away from Eastern Christendom, Anselm is bidden to justify the change which Latin theology had made in that creed of the East which changeth not. The Pope harangues on the sufferings of the Church in various lands, and, above all, on the evil deeds of the tyrant of England. The assembled fathers agree with one voice that the sword of Peter must be drawn, and that such a sinner must be smitten in the face of the whole world. Anselm pleads for Rufus. Then Anselm kneels at the feet of Urban, and craves that no such blow may be dealt on the man who had so deeply wronged him.[1641] But, while these high debates were going on, the curious eye of Eadmer had lighted on an object which spoke straight to his heart as an Englishman and a monk of Christ Church. The cope of Beneventum. Among the assembled prelates the Archbishop of Beneventum appeared clad in a cope of surpassing richness. Eadmer knew at once whence it came; he knew that it had once been one of the glories of Canterbury, worn by Primates of England before England had bowed either to the Norman or to the Dane. Eadmer, brought up from his childhood in the cloister of Christ Church, had been taught as a boy by aged monks who could remember the days of Cnut and Emma. Dealings between Canterbury and Beneventum. Those elders of the house, Eadwig and Blæcman and Farman, had told him how in those days there had been a mighty famine in the land of Apulia, how the then Archbishop of Beneventum had travelled through foreign lands to seek help for his starving flock, how he brought with him a precious relic, the arm of the apostle Bartholomew, and how, having passed through Italy and Gaul, he was led to cross the sea by the fame of the wealth of England and of the piety and bounty of Emma its Lady. She gave him plenteous gifts for his people, and he asked whether she would not give yet more as the price of the precious relic. Emma buys the arm of Saint Bartholomew. The genuineness of the treasure was solemnly sworn to;[1642] a great price was paid for it by the Lady, and, by the special order of King Cnut, it was added as a precious gift to the treasures of the metropolitan church. For in those days, says Eadmer, it was the manner of the English to set the patronage of the saints before all the wealth of this world. Æthelnoth’s gift of the cope. The Archbishop of Beneventum went back, loaded with the alms of England, and bearing with him, among other gifts from his brother Primate Æthelnoth, this very cope richly embroidered with gold with all the skill of English hands. Eadmer, taught by the tradition of his elders, knew the vestment as he saw it in that far land on the shoulders of the successor of the prelate who had come to our island for help in his day of need. Eadmer recognises the cope. He saw it with joy; he pointed it out to Father Anselm, and, feigning ignorance, he asked the Beneventan Archbishop the history of the splendid cope which he wore. He was pleased to find that the tradition of Beneventum was the same as the tradition of Canterbury.[1643] Now that we have made our way into other times and other lands, it is pleasing to look back for a moment, with our faithful Eadmer, to days when England still was England, even though she had already learned to bow to a foreign King and a foreign Lady.

More important in a general view than the details of Anselm’s journey are the negotiations which went on during this time between William, Urban, and Anselm. The Red King’s day of grace was now over. Position of Rufus. The last touch of feeling recorded of him is when he bowed his head to receive Anselm’s blessing. Henceforth he stands out, in a more marked way than ever, in the character which distinguishes him from other kings and from other men. We have had evil kings before and after him; but we have had none other who openly chose evil to be his good, none other who declared himself in plain words to be the personal enemy of the Almighty. Yet, as we have already noticed, the bolts of the Church never lighted on Possible effect of excommunication on him.the head of this worst of royal sinners. We have just seen how once at least he was spared by the merciful intercession of his own victim. We are tempted to stop and think how a formal excommunication would have worked on such an one as William Rufus had now become. Papal excommunications not yet despised. We must remember that the weight of papal excommunications of princes had not yet been lowered, as it came to be lowered afterwards, either by their frequency or by their manifest injustice. The cases which were then fresh in men’s minds were all striking and weighty. The Emperor Henry. The excommunication of the Emperor was, from the papal point of view, a natural stage of the great struggle which was still raging. Philip of France. Philip of France had been excommunicated for a moral offence which seemed the darker because it involved the mockery of an ecclesiastical sacrament. Boleslaus of Poland. 1079. And no man could wonder or blame when, in the days of Hildebrand, Boleslaus of Poland was put out of the communion of the faithful for slaying with his own hands before the altar the bishop who had rebuked him for his sins.[1644] The case most akin to the wanton excommunications of later times had been when Alexander the The case of Harold. Second in form, when Hildebrand in truth, had denounced Harold without a hearing for no crime but that of accepting the crown which his people gave him. But men are so apt to judge by results that the fall of Harold and of England may by this time, even among Englishmen, have begun to be looked on as a witness to the power of the Church’s thunders. In the days of Rufus a papal excommunication was still a real and fearful thing at which men stood aghast. It might not have turned the heart of Rufus; it might even have hardened his heart yet further. Probable effect of an excommunication on the people. But among his people, even among his own courtiers, the effect would doubtless have been such that he must in the end, like Philip, have formally given way. As it was, the bolt never fell; the hand of Anselm stopped it once; other causes, as we shall soon see, stopped it afterwards. And, instead of the formal excommunication of Rome, there came that more striking excommunication by the voice of the English people, when, by a common instinct, they declared William the Red to have no true part in that communion of the faithful from which he had never been formally cut off.

Anselm writes to the Pope from Lyons. The negotiations, if we may so call them, which followed the departure of Anselm may be looked on as beginning with a letter written by Anselm to the Pope from Lyons.[1645] The Archbishop, once out of England, seems to take up a new tone. His new tone. His language with regard to the King’s doings is still singularly mild;[1646] but he now begins to speak, not only of God and right, but of the canons of the Church and the authority of the Pope, as something to which the arbitrary customs of England must give way.[1647] To those customs he cannot agree without perilling his own soul and the souls of his successors. He comes to the Apostolic See for help and counsel.[1648] Anselm at Rome. When he had reached Rome, he again set forth his case more fully, as it had been set forth in the letter from Lyons. Letters to the King. Letters both from Anselm and from the Pope were sent to the King by the same messenger, letters which unluckily are not preserved. The summary of the papal letter seems to point to a lofty tone on the part of the Pontiff. He moves, he exhorts, he at last commands, King William, to leave the goods of the Archbishop free, and to restore everything to him.[1649] Anselm’s own letter was doubtless in a milder strain. The messenger came back, to find both Urban and Anselm again at Rome after the synod at Bari. His reception of the letters. The letter from Urban had been received, though ungraciously; the letter from Anselm was sent back. As soon as the King knew that the bearer was a man of the Archbishop’s, he had sworn by the face of Lucca that, unless the messenger speedily got him away out of his lands, he would have his eyes torn out without fail.[1650]

Mission of William of Warelwast. The Pope however could hardly be left wholly without some answer, however scornfully William might deal with the letter of his own subject. But the answer was not speedy in coming. Its bearer was the trusty clerk William of Warelwast, of whom we have already heard more than once. The King’s business did not now call for the same haste as it had done when the same man was sent to find out who was the true Pope.[1651] Much happened before he came. Amongst other things, not a few travellers came from England and Normandy, bringing with them fresh and fresh reports of the evil doings of the King, some of which we have already heard of. William on the continent. November, 1097-April, 1099. William was now in Normandy. He crossed at Martinmas,[1652] and spent the whole of the next year in the wars of France and Maine. He did not come back to England till the Easter of the year following that.[1653] It was now that he played at Rouen the part of a missionary of the creed of Moses.[1654] But he kept his eye upon England also; for to this time is assigned the story of the fifty Englishmen who so enraged the blaspheming King by proving their innocence by the ordeal.[1655] Nor was it merely rumours of William’s doings at home which found their way into Italy from Normandy and England. While the King was devising his answer to the Pope, his emissaries were busy in other parts of the peninsula. Affairs of Southern Italy. The affairs of the Normans in their two great settlements are always joining in one stream. While Bohemund and Tancred were on their Eastern march, the reigning princes of their house, Roger of Apulia and Roger of Sicily, were carrying on their schemes of advancement west of Hadria. Siege of Capua. Their armies now lay before Capua. Meanwhile Anselm had withdrawn with John Abbot of Telesia to seek quiet in a town of the Abbot’s on the upper Vulturnus, Anselm at Schiavia. whose name of Schiavia may suggest some ethnological questions.[1656] Our guide specially marks that this journey was a journey into Samnium; he may not have fully taken in how truly Telesia was the heart of Samnium, alike in the days of the Pontius of the Caudine Forks and in the days of the Pontius of the Colline Gate.[1657] He writes “Cur Deus Homo.” Here, in his Samnite retreat, Anselm was moulding the theology of all later times by his treatise which told why God became Man.[1658] Meanwhile William of England, at war with righteousness in all its forms, held Helias in his prison at Bayeux,[1659] and plotted against Anselm in his hermitage at Schiavia. When Duke Roger’s army was so near, the master of Normandy deemed that something might be done for his purpose by Norman arms or Norman craft. He sent letters—his letters could go speedily when speed was needed—to stir up Duke Roger to do some mischief to the man whom he hated.[1660] The plot was in vain. Anselm and Urban before Capua. Anselm was invited to the Duke’s camp; he was received there with all honour during a sojourn of some time, as he was at every other point of the Duke’s dominions to which he went.[1661] The Pope and Anselm, patriarchs of two worlds, were Duke Roger’s guests at the same time. But only the rich dared to present themselves in the presence of the Pope of the mainland, while the shepherd of the nations beyond the sea welcomed men of all kinds lovingly.[1662] Anselm and the Saracens. The very Saracens whom Count Roger had brought from Sicily to the help of his nephew pressed to visit the holy man of another faith, to be received and fed at his cost, to kiss his hands, and to cover him with prayers and blessings. Not a few of them were even ready to embrace Anselm’s creed;[1663] but proselytism among his soldiers formed no part of the policy of the conqueror of Sicily. Count Roger was ready enough to extend the territorial bounds of Christendom by his sword; Count Roger forbids conversions. but he found, as his great-grandson found after him, that in war no followers were to be trusted like the misbelievers. Once enlisted in his service, they had no motive to forsake him for any other Christian leader, while they had no hope of restoring the supremacy of their own faith. With them too neither Clement nor Urban, nor any votary of Clement or Urban, had any weight. So useful a class of warriors was not to be lessened in number. Whatever might be his missionary zeal at Palermo or Syracuse, Count Roger allowed no conversions in the camp before Capua. The men who were ready to hearken to Anselm’s teaching had to turn away at the bidding of their temporal lord, and the father of Christian theology was forbidden the rare glory of winning willing proselytes to the Christian faith among the votaries of Islam.[1664]

Anselm wishes to resign the archbishopric. Meanwhile the tales of William’s misdoings in Normandy and England were brought in day by day. The heart of Anselm was moved ever more and more; he saw that, come what might, he and such a king could never agree; the only course for him was to cast aside the grievous burthen and responsibility of his archbishopric. He earnestly craved the Pontiff’s leave to resign it into his hands.[1665] Urban was far too wary for this. Urban forbids him. He enjoined Anselm, by virtue of holy obedience, to do no such thing. The King, in his tyranny, might seize his temporalities and might keep him out of the land; but in the eye of the Church he remained none the less the Archbishop of the English kingdom, with his power of binding and loosing as strong as ever.[1666] Anselm was not only not to give up his office; he was to make a point of always appearing with the full badges of his office.[1667] Even now Anselm seems to have been in some difficulties how to reconcile his two duties to God and to Cæsar, difficulties which he would doubtless have got rid of altogether by resigning the archbishopric.[1668] But he submits to the Pontiff’s will, and he is bidden to meet him again at Bari, where judgement will be given in the matter of the King of the English and of all others who interfere with the liberties of the Church.[1669]

Council of Bari. October 1, 1098. Then came the meeting at Bari, the disputation against the Greeks, the excommunication of Rufus stopped by Anselm’s intercession.[1670] That Anselm was playing an arranged part we cannot believe for a moment; but we may believe, without breach of charity, that Urban threatened the excommunication of Rufus in the full belief that Anselm would intercede for him. Anselm at Rome. Urban and Anselm then went back to Rome; and thither presently came the messenger from Normandy, who had to tell of the King’s frightful threats towards himself. William of Warelwast and Urban. Soon after came William of Warelwast, with a message from the King to the Pope. The diplomacy of the future bishop of Exeter was at least straightforward. “My lord the King sends you word that he wonders not a little how it can have come into your mind to address him for the restitution of the goods of Anselm.” He added, “If you ask the reason, here it is. When Anselm wished to depart from his land, the King openly threatened him that, if he went, he should take the whole archbishopric into his demesne. Since Anselm then would not, even when thus threatened, give up his purpose of going, the King deems that his own acts were right, and that he is now wrongfully blamed.”[1671] The Pope asked whether the King had any other charge against Anselm. “None,” answered the envoy. Urban had gained an advantage. Urban’s answer. He poured forth his wonder at a thing so unheard of in all time as that a king should spoil the primate of his kingdom of all his goods merely because he would not refrain from visiting the Roman Church, the mother of all churches.[1672] Excommunication threatened. William of Warelwast might go back to his master, and might tell him that the Pope meant to hold a council at Rome in the April 12, 1099. Easter-week next to come, and that, if by that time Anselm was not restored to all that he had lost, the sentence of excommunication should go forth.[1673]

Brave words were these of Pope Urban, but William the Red knew how to deal with mere bravery of words, even in the Pope whom he had acknowledged. Walter of Albano had once outwitted William and his counsellors; but Walter of Albano had in the end yielded to William’s most powerful argument. William of Warelwast’s secret dealings with Urban. William of Warelwast was not the least likely to outwit Urban; but he had it in commission from his master to overcome the Pope by the same logic by which his Legate had been overcome. We may copy the words of our own Chronicler four-and-twenty years later; “That overcame Rome that overcometh all the world, that is gold and silver.”[1674] To Urban’s well conceived speech the answer of William of Warelwast was pithy and practical; “Before I go The excommunication respited. away, I will have some dealings with you more in private.”[1675] He went to work prudently, as the Red King’s clerks knew how to do; he made friends here and there; the Pope’s advisers were blinded; the Pope himself was blinded; April-September, 1099. a respite from Easter to Michaelmas was granted to King William of England.[1676]

Position of Anselm. This adjournment was a heavy blow for Anselm. He had in no way stirred up the Pope to any action against the prince whom he still acknowledged as his sovereign. At Bari, when no answer had as yet been received from the King, Anselm had pleaded for him; it was indeed only common justice to give him that one more chance. But, when the answer had come, and had proved to be of such a kind as we have seen, Anselm most likely thought that the time for action had come. He might indeed fairly deem that the excommunication would in truth be an act of kindness towards William. All other means of reclaiming the sinner had failed; that final and most awful means might at last succeed. At all events, Anselm’s soul was grieved to the quick at the thought that the Pope’s sentence, whatever it might be, could be changed or delayed by the power of filthy lucre. Urban’s treatment of Anselm. He had borne every kind of grief, he had borne insults and banishment and the spoiling of his goods, for the sake of Rome and the Pope, and he had now found out what Rome and the Pope were. He had found that the master was no better than his servants. He had found Rome to be what Rome was ever found to be by every English bishop, by every Englishman by birth or adoption, who ever trusted in her. Urban proved the same broken reed to Anselm which Alexander in after days proved to Thomas. Anselm had gone through much in order to have the counsel and help of the Pope. But no counsel or help had he found in him.[1677] Anselm made to stay for the Council of Lateran, April 12, 1099. He craved leave to depart from Rome, and again to tarry at Lyons with a friend in whom he could better trust, the Primate of all the Gauls.[1678] The request was refused. Urban had still to make use of Anselm for his own purposes. He had to show his guest and the Church’s confessor—the guest and confessor whom he had sold for William’s gold—to the whole world in his Lateran Council. The special honours which were there paid to Anselm must have been felt by him as little more than a mockery. Protest of Reingar of Lucca. It may have been a preconcerted scene, it may have been a burst of honest indignation, when Reingar, Bishop of Lucca, bore an emphatic witness on Anselm’s side. Reingar, chosen on account of his lofty stature and sounding voice to announce the decrees of the Council, broke forth in words of his own declaring the holiness and the wrongs of the Archbishop of the English, and thrice smote his staff on the floor with quivering lips and teeth gnashed together.[1679] The Pope checked him; Reingar protested, and renewed his protest. Anselm simply wondered; he had never said a word to the Bishop of Lucca on any such matter, nor did he believe that any of his faithful followers had done so either.[1680]

End of the Council. The council broke up. The great general anathema was pronounced which would take in William along with the other princes of the earth;[1681] but nothing was said or done directly for Anselm or his cause.[1682] Anselm goes to Lyons. Anselm now at last left Rome for Lyons. He there heard of the deaths both of him who was to issue the excommunication and of him against whom it was to be issued. Death of Urban. July. 29, 1099. Urban did not live to hear how his preaching at Clermont was crowned by the deliverance of the Holy City. Yet the work was done while he still lived. Fourteen days after the storm of Jerusalem, seven days after the election William’s words on his death. of King Godfrey, Pope Urban died. The news of his death was brought to William while he was in the midst of his last warfare for Le Mans. Let God’s hate, he answered, be upon him who cares whether he be dead or alive.[1683] Battle of Ascalon. August 12, 1099. Fourteen days after Urban’s death, the hosts of Egypt were smitten at Ascalon; and the city which had just been won was again made safe. The next day a fresh Pope was chosen, Paschal, who, in the course of a long reign, had to strive alike with a Henry of Germany and Paschal the Second, Pope. August 13, 1099-January 21, 1118.with a Henry of England. The news of his election was brought to William, and he asked what manner of man the new Pope might be. He was told that he was a man in many things like Archbishop Anselm. “Then by God’s face,” said the Red King, “if he be such an one, he is no good.” But William felt that his wished for time was now William’s words on Paschal’s election.come. Now at least there should be no trouble about acknowledging Popes against his will. “Let the Pope be what he will, he and his popedom shall not this time come over me by little and little. I have got my freedom again, and I will use it.”[1684] The time fixed for the excommunication passed unmarked over the head of the living Rufus. But before a full year had passed from Paschal’s election, the dead Rufus was excommunicated by the voice of his own kingdom.

We leave Anselm at Lyons; we shall meet him again when he comes back in all honour to crown and to marry a king and a queen who filled the English throne by the free call of the English people. Meanwhile we must take up the thread of our story, and see more fully what has been happening in the other lands which come within the Red King’s world, while Anselm was so long and so wearily striving for righteousness. The tale of Normandy, the tale of Jerusalem, so far as it concerned us to tell it, could hardly be kept apart from the tale of Anselm. But we have still to tell the tale of Scotland, of Northumberland, of Wales, of France, above all the tale of Maine and its noble Count, during the years through which we have tracked the history of Anselm. We have to go back to the beginning of the story through which we have just passed, and to begin afresh while Rufus in his short day of penitence lies on his sick-bed at Gloucester.

FOOTNOTES.

[1] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 692.

[2] Will. Malms. iv. 306.

[3] Tac. Hist. iv. 59.

[4] There is not much to say about the authorities for this chapter. The main sources are those with which we have long been familiar, the Peterborough Chronicle, Orderic, Florence, William of Malmesbury. The last three of these increase in value at every step, as they become more and more strictly contemporary. So Henry of Huntingdon, beginning his seventh book in the second year of Rufus, formally puts on the character of a contemporary writer. Hitherto he had written from his reading or from common fame; “nunc autem de his quæ vel ipsi vidimus, vel ab his qui viderant audivimus, pertractandum est.” But he still wisely kept the Chronicle before him. He is himself largely followed by Robert of Torigny (or De Monte—that is Abbot of Saint Michael’s Mount) in his chronicle. From Robert we have also the so-called eighth book of William of Jumièges, which may pass as a History of Henry the First. He is not strictly contemporary for any part of our immediate story. Eadmer, so precious a few years later, gives us as yet only a few touches and general pictures. The French riming chroniclers are of some value later in the reign of Rufus; but we have hardly anything to do with them as yet. A crowd of accessory, occasional, and local writings have to be turned to as usual.

[5] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 583.

[6] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 228, 795. So Will. Neub. i. 3; “Filiorum quidem Willelmi Magni ordine nativitatis novissimus, sed prærogativa primus. Quippe, aliis in ducatu patris natis, solus ipse ex eodem jam rege est ortus.” This is noteworthy in a writer in whom (see Appendix A) we see the first sign of a notion of Robert’s hereditary right. The author of the Brevis Relatio (9) goes yet further, and seems to assert that a party at least was for Henry’s immediate succession; “Sicut postea multi dixerunt, justum fuit ut ipse rex Angliæ post patrem suum esset qui de patre rege et matre regina genitus extitisset.”

[7] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 706, note 3.

[8] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 706, note 3.

[9] See Appendix A.

[10] See Appendix A.

[11] Will. Malms. iv. 305. “Eum nutrierat et militem fecerat.” So Matthew Paris, Hist. Ang. i. 35.

[12] Orderic has two statements as to the port from which William set sail. In his account of the Conqueror’s death (659 D), he makes him sail from Witsand. But afterwards (763 D), when speaking of Robert Bloet, he says, “Senioris Guillelmi capellanus fuerat, eoque defuncto de portu Tolochæ cum juniore Guillelmo mare transfretaverat, et epistolam regis de coronanda prole Lanfranco archiepiscopo detulerat.” This latter is to be preferred, as the more circumstantial account. Touques moreover is at once the more likely haven to be chosen by one setting out from Rouen, and the one less likely to come into the head of a careless narrator. Robert of Torigny also (Cont. Will. Gem. viii. 2) makes the place Touques.

[13] Ord. Vit. 659 D. “Ibi jam patrem audivit obiisse.”

[14] Fl. Wig. 1087. “Willelmus … Angliam festinato adiit, ducens secum Wlnothum et Morkarum.”

[15] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 517.

[16] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 315.

[17] Fl. Wig. 1087. “Robertus … Ulfum, Haroldi quondam regis Anglorum filium, Dunechaldumque regis Scottorum Malcolmi filium a custodia laxatos et armis militaribus honoratos, abire permisit.”

[18] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 76.

[19] Flor. Wig. 1087. “Mox ut Wintoniam venit, illos, ut prius fuerant, custodiæ mancipavit.”

[20] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 855. The Winchester Annals (1087; Ann. Mon. ii. 35) give him, like Prior Godfrey, the title of Earl, and say that he was not released at all. The Conqueror releases all his prisoners in England and Normandy “exceptis duobus comitibus Rogero et Wlnodo.” These three captives are joined together in the signatures to an alleged charter of Bishop William of Saint-Calais in the Monasticon, i. 237, and in the Surtees volume, Hist. Dun. Scriptt. Tres, v, of which I may have to speak again; “Morkaro et Rogerio [clearly meant for Roger of Hereford] et Siwardo cognomento Bran et Wlnoto Haraldi regis germano.” They are made to sign, along with Abbot Æthelwig, who died in 1077, in a Council in London in 1082. The whole thing is clearly spurious; but what put the signatures of the captives into anybody’s head?

[21] See Appendix A.

[22] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 13 Selden. “Quantus autem mœror Lanfrancum ex morte ejus perculerit quis dicere possit, quando nos qui circa illum nuncia morte illius eramus, statim eum præ cordis angustia mori timeremus?” This seems to imply that the news reached Lanfranc when he had his monks about him, that is at Canterbury.

[23] William of Malmesbury (iv. 305) marks the coronation as being done “die sanctorum Cosmæ et Damiani.” In the Chronicle it is “þreom dagum ǽr Michaeles mæssedæg;” while Florence simply gives the day of the month. Wace (14482) says inaccurately “Li jor de feste saint Michiel;” and the Chronicon de Bello (40) still more inaccurately, “in nativitate Christi, intrante anno incarnationis ejusdem Verbi Dei mlxxxviii.”

[24] See Appendix A.

[25] Chron. Petrib. 1087. “Ealle þa men on Englalande him to abugon, and him aðas sworon.”

[26] Chron. Petrib. 1087. “Ðisum þus gedone, se cyng ferde to Winceastre, and sceawode þæt madmehus, and þa gersuman þe his fæder ǽr gegaderode, þa wæron unasecgendlice ænie man hu mycel þær wæs gegaderod, on golde and on seolfre and on faton and on pællan and on gimman and on manige oðre deorwurðe þingon þe earfoðe sindon to ateallene.” Yet Henry of Huntingdon (p. 211) knew the exact amount of the silver, sixty thousand pounds, one doubtless for each knight’s fee.

[27] Florence brings in the books in a list of gifts which is longer than that of the Chronicler; “Cruces, altaria, scrinia, textos, candelabra, situlas, fistulas, ac ornamenta varia gemmis, auro, argento, lapidibusque pretiosis, redimita, per ecclesias digniores ac monasteria jussit dividi.”

[28] Chron. de Bello, 40. “Regni diadema suscepit. Quod adeptus, paterni mandati non immemor, patris pallium regale et feretrum unde supra meminimus, cum ccctis philacteriis, sanctorum pignorum excellentia gloriosis, ecclesiæ beati Martini quantocius delegavit, quæ simul apud Bellum viii Kalendas Novembris suscepta sunt.”

[29] The Chronicler says, “to ælcen cyrcean uppe land lx. pæǹ.” But Florence limits it; “ecclesiis in civitatibus vel villis suis per singulas denarios lx. dari.”

[30] Chron. Petrib. 1087. “Into ælcere scire man seonde hundred punda feos, to dælanne earme mannan for his saule.”

[31] Flor. Wig. 1087. “Ejus quoque germanus Rotbertus in Normanniam reversus, thesauros quos invenerat monasteriis, ecclesiis, pauperibus, pro anima patris sui largiter divisit.”

[32] Chron Petrib. 1087. “Se cyng wæs on þam midewintre on Lundene.” So Henry of Huntingdon (211); “Rex novus curiam suam ad Natale tenuit apud Lundoniam.” He adds a list of bishops who were present. There were the two Archbishops, Maurice of London, Walkelin of Winchester, Geoffrey [it should be Osbern] of Exeter, William of Thetford, Robert of Chester, William of Durham, as also “Wlnod [sic] episcopus sanctus Wirecestriæ.” On the presence of Odo, see Appendix B. Robert of Torigny (1087) writes “Vulnof.” I cannot see much in his editor’s suggestion that the Geoffrey spoken of is the Bishop of Coutances, because the so-called Bromton, of all people, has made a blunder about him; X Scriptt. 984.

[33] N. C. vol. iv. p. 708.

[34] Ord. Vit. 664 D. “Totum in Normannia pristinum honorem adeptus est, et consiliarius ducis, videlicet nepotis sui, factus est.”

[35] Will. Malms, iv. 305. “Claves thesaurorum nactus est; quibus fretus totam Angliam animo subjecit suo.”

[36] Ib. “Reliquo hiemis quiete et favorabiliter vixit.”

[37] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “On þisum geare wæs þis land swiðe astirad, and mid mycele swicdome afylled; swa þæt þa riceste Frencisce men þe weron innan þrisan lande wolden swican heore hlaforde þam cynge, and woldon habban his broðer to cynge, Rodbeard, þe wæs eorl on Normandige.” The duty of faithfulness to the lord, whoever he may be, is always strongly felt; still William Rufus is only “heora hlaford se cyng,” not “heora cynehlaford.” But the notion that Robert had any special right as the eldest son seems not to have come into any purely English mind of that age.

[38] He appears in the list given by Henry of Huntingdon (see above, p. 19) as “justiciarius et princeps totius Angliæ.” Simeon of Durham (1088) calls him “secundus rex.”

[39] See Florence, 1081; Sim. Dun. His. Eccl. Dun. iv. 1.

[40] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 674.

[41] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Swa wæll dyde se cyng be þam bisceop þæt eall Englaland færde æfter his ræde and swa swa he wolde.” So Florence; “Ea tempestate rex prædictus illius, ut veri consiliarii, fruebatur prudentia; bene enim sapiebat, ejusque consiliis totius Angliæ tractabatur respublica.” Cf. Ann. Wint. 1088. “Episcopus Willelmus Dunelmensis, qui paulo ante quasi cor regis erat.”

[42] Will. Malms, iv. 306. “Immortale in eum [Lanfrancum] odium anhelans, quod ejus consilio a fratre se in vincula conjectum asserebat.”

[43] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 680.

[44] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “And þæs unræd wearð gewesen innan þam Lengtene.” So Florence; “Pars nobiliorum Normannorum favebat regi Willelmo, sed minima; pars vero altera favebat Roberto comiti Normannorum, et maxima; cupiens hunc sibi adsciscere in regnum, fratrem vero aut fratri tradere vivum aut regno privare peremptum.” Here is the end of a hexameter.

[45] See Appendix B.

[46] Ord. Vit. 665 D. “Optimates utriusque regni conveniunt, et de duobus regnis nunc divisis, quæ manus una pridem tenuerat, tractare satagunt.” Cf. the language used at an earlier time about Normandy, N. C. vol. i. p. 221.

[47] Ib. 666 A. “Labor nobis ingens subito crevit, et maxima diminutio potentiæ nostræ opumque nobis incumbuit…. Violenta nobis orta est mutatio et nostræ sublimitatis repentina dejectio.” It is now that he makes the flourish about “Saxones Angli” (see N. C. vol. i. p. 542); there is also a good deal about Jeroboam and Polyneikês.

[48] Ib. “Quomodo duobus dominis tam diversis, et tam longe ab invicem remotis competenter servire poterimus?”

[49] Ib. B, C. “Inviolabile fœdus firmiter ineamus, et Guillelmo rege dejecto vel interfecto, qui junior est et protervus, et cui nihil debemus, Robertum ducem, qui major natu est et tractabilior moribus, et cui jamdudum vivente patre amborum fidelitatem juravimus, principem Angliæ ac Neustriæ ad servandam unitatem utriusque regni constituamus.”

[50] Ib. C. “Decretum suum Roberto duci detexuit. Ille vero, utpote levis et inconsideratus, valde gavisus est promissis inutilibus, seseque spopondit eis, si inchoarent, affaturum in omnibus, et collaturum mox efficax auxilium ad perpetrandum tam clarum fecimus.”

[51] See Appendix B.

[52] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 710.

[53] Will. Malms. iv. 306. “Multos eodem susurro infecit [Odo]; Roberto regnum competere, qui sit et remissioris animi, et juveniles stultitias multis jam laboribus decoxerit; hunc delicate nutritum, animi ferocia (quam vultus ipse demonstret), prætumidum, omnia contra fas et jus ausurum; brevi futurum ut honores jamdudum plurimis sudoribus partos amittant; nihil actum morte patris, si quos ille vinxerit iste trucidet.” (Again the ending of a hexameter.) A good deal of this seems to come from later experience of Rufus.

[54] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “þæs unræd wærð geræd.”

[55] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 276, 580, 673.

[56] See Appendix C.

[57] “He þohte to donne be him eall swa Iudas Scarioð dide be ure Drihtene.”

[58] “Se bisceop of Dunholme dyde to hearme þæt he mihte ofer eall be norðan.”

[59] See Appendix C.

[60] Mon. Angl. i. 248. “Monstrabo quod Dorobernium et Hastingas, quæ jam pene perdiderat, in sua fidelitate detinui, Londoniam quoque quæ jam rebellaverat, in ejus fidelitate sedavi, meliores etiam duodecim ejusdem urbis cives ad eum mecum duxi, ut per illos melius ceteros animaret.”

[61] Mon. Angl. i. 247. “Ipse [rex] te summonuit ut cum eo equitares; tu vero respondisti ei, te cum septem militibus quos ibi habebas libenter iturum, et pro pluribus ad castellum tuum sub festinatione missurum, et postea fugisti de curia sua sine ejus licentia, et quosdam de familia sua tecum adduxisti, et ita in necessitate sua sibi defecisti.”

[62] See Appendix C.

[63] Mon. Angl. i. 245. “Præsto sum in curia vestra vobis justitiam facere convenienti termino, securitate veniendi accepta.” Cf.N. C. vol. ii. pp. 149, 150.

[64] Mon. Angl. i. 245. “Non est enim omnium hominum episcopos judicare, et ego vobis secundum ordinem meum omnem justitiam offero; et si ad præsens vultis habere servitium meum vel hominum meorum, illud idem secundum placere vestrum vobis offero.”

[65] Ib. “Rex acceptis et auditis istis litteris episcopi, dedit baronibus suis terras episcopi, vidente legato quem sibi miserat episcopus.” I suppose that these barons are no other than the Counts Alan and Odo, of whose share in the matter we shall hear much more as we go on.

[66] See Ellis, i. 464. It is there remarked that Ralph’s lands in Devonshire had largely been Merleswegen’s. This is equally true in Yorkshire. He must have succeeded Hugh the son of Baldric as sheriff. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 801.

[67] See the foundation charter in the Monasticon, iv. 682; though it is hard to understand how Pope Alexander could have confirmed anything in 1089. According to the charter, the church had once been held by a body of canons, which had come to nothing. Ralph now restored it as a Benedictine monastery, a cell to Marmoutiers.

[68] “Præcepit omnibus regis fidelibus de parte regis ut malum facerent episcopo ubicumque et quomodo cumque possent. Cumque episcopus per se vel per legatos suos regem non posset requirere, et terras suas destrui et vastari absque ulla ultione per vii. septimanas et amplius sustineret,” etc.

[69] Their absence from the assembly comes from Florence; “Execrabile hoc factum clam tractaverunt in quadragesima, quod cito in palam prorumpi posset post pascha; nam a regali se subtrahentes curia, munierunt castella, ferrum, flammam, prædas, necem, excitaverunt in patriam.” Cf. Orderic, 666 C; “Munitiones suas fossis et hominibus, atque alimentis hominum et equorum, abundanter instruebant.”

[70] On Count Robert, see N. C. vol. ii. p. 296; iv. pp. 78, 168, 170. His name does not now occur in the Chronicles, nor in Orderic, who does not mention the siege of his castle of Pevensey. But his action comes out strongly in Florence, who classes him with Odo as a leader, though in his narrative he appears merely as his tool. The Hyde writer (297) also dwells fully on his share in the work, but he has no special facts or legends.

[71] See N. C. vol. iii. pp. 117, 672; iv. pp. 39, 562, 825.

[72] In Orderic, 667 B, he appears as “Rogerius Merciorum comes.”

[73] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Rogerius de Laceio, qui jam super regem invaserat Herefordam.” He appears in Domesday in Berkshire, Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, Shropshire, but most largely in Herefordshire. See Ellis, i. 442.

[74] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 138, 352.

[75] Ib. vol. iii. p. 132; iv. p. 448.

[76] Ib. vol. iii. p. 737.

[77] Ib. vol. iii. p. 233.

[78] Ord. Vit. 666 D. See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 74, 489.

[79] See below, p. 36.

[80] See his picture in Orderic, 703 B. “Præfatus præsul nobilitate cluebat, magisque peritia militari quam clericali vigebat. Ideoque loricatos milites ad bellandum quam revestitos clericos ad psallendum magis erudire noverat.”

[81] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 672. Orderic gives his portrait along with that of his uncle; “Robertus Rogerii de Molbraio filius potentia divitiisque admodum pollebat, audacia et militari feritate superbus pares despiciebat, et superbioribus obtemperare, vana ventositate turgidus, indignum autumabat. Erat erim corpore magnus, fortis, niger et hispidus, audax et dolosus, vultu tristis et severus. Plus meditari quam loqui studebat, et vix in confabulatione ridebat.”

[82] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Swiðe mycel folc mid heom, ealle Frencisce men.” He must mean that all the leaders were French. We shall see (see below, p. 47) that there were both Englishmen and Britons in the rebel army.

[83] Flor. Wig. 1088.

[84] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Roger hét an of heom se hleop into þam castele æt Norðwic, and dyde git eallra wærst ofer eall þæt land.” He is “Rogerius Bigot” in William of Malmesbury. We shall find him behaving better later in our story.

[85] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 68, 590.

[86] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Hugo eac an þe hit ne gebette nan þing, ne innan Lægreceastrescire ne innan Norðamtune.” He is “Hugo de Grentemesnil” in William of Malmesbury. See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 74, 232.

[87] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 226.

[88] Ib. p. 382.

[89] Gesta Stephani, 41. “Totius Angliæ noverca Bristoa.”

[90] Simeon of Durham (1088) speaks of the “castellum fortissimum” at this time.

[91] Gesta Steph. 36. “Est Bristoa civitas … ipso situ loci omnium civitatum Angliæ munitissima. Sicut enim de Brundusio legimus, quædam provinciæ Glaornensis pars ad formam linguæ restricta, et in longum protensa, duobus fluviis gemina ejus latera proluentibus, inque inferiori parte, ubi ipsa terra defectum patitur, in unam aquarum abundantiam coeuntibus, efficit civitatem.”

[92] One might quote nearer instances in the streams which flow out of Mendip; only they have their katabothra at the beginning.

[93] Gesta Steph. u. s. “Viva quoque et fortis maris exæstuatio, noctibus et diebus abundanter exundans, ex ambabus civitatis partibus fluvios ipsos in latum et profundum pelagus regurgitare in seipsos cogit, portumque mille carinis habillimum et tutissimum efficiens, ambitum illius adeo prope et conjuncte constringit ut tota civitas aquis innatare, tota super ripas considere videatur.”

[94] In what was the castle green is a very pretty undercroft of early thirteenth century work, most likely the support of a chapel.

[95] The course of the stream and the line of the walls have been altered more than once; but the description in the Gesta Stephani of the peninsula, as long and tongue-shaped, shows that the Frome cannot, when that was written, have taken the line of the present Baldwin Street. The town was on the peninsula, but it covered only the north-east part of it.

[96] Gesta Steph. “Ex una tamen ejus regione ubi ad obsidendum opportunior magisque pervia habetur, castellum plurimo aggere exaltatum, muro et propugnaculis, turribus, et diversis machinis firmatum, impugnantium coercet accessus.” This is doubtless equally true in its measure of the state of things in 1088; but there is not now much sign of the “plurimus agger.” The old prints of Bristol show Earl Robert’s keep, a square tower of the best class.

[97] The description of the later occupation of Bristol (Gesta Steph. p. 37) will serve equally for this earlier one. “E diversis siquidem provinciis et regionibus emersi, tanto illic abundantius et gratulantius affuerunt, quanto sub divite domino ex munitissimo castello, quicquid libentium animo occurreret, in uberrima committere Anglia fuit eis permissum.”

[98] His estates in Somerset are very large. See Domesday, 87 a et seqq. In Gloucestershire (165) he appears as “Episcopus de Sancto Laudo”—the older seat of the bishopric of Coutances.

[99] Domesday, 163. Under “Bertune apud Bristou,” now Barton Regis, we read, “Hoc manerium et Bristou reddit regi c. et x. markas argenti. Burgenses dicunt quod episcopus G. habet xxxiii. markas argenti et unam markam auri propter firmam regis.” This looks like the Earl’s third penny; but Geoffrey certainly had no formal earldom in Gloucestershire.

[100] This is Camden’s conjecture; it does not greatly matter for my purpose.

[101] See above, p. 33.

[102] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Gosfrid bisceop and Rodbeard a Mundbræg ferdon to Bricgstowe and hergodon, and brohton to þam castele þa hergunge.” So Florence; “Gosfridus episcopus Constantiensis, in castello Brycstowa, socium conjurationis et perfidiæ habebat secum nepotem suum Rotbertum de Mulbraio, virum gnarum militiæ.”

[103] In the song in the Chronicles, 973, Eadgar is crowned

“On þaere ealdan byrig,
Acemannes ceastre,
Eac hie egbuend.
Oþre worde
Beornas Baðan nemnað.”

In the prose entries in Worcester and Peterborough this is done “at Hatabaðum.”

[104] See Richard of the Devizes, 62. “Bathonia, in imis vallium, in crasso nimis aere et vapore sulphureo posita, imo deposita, est ad portas inferi.”

[105] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 385.

[106] Mr. Earle has, I think, made it morally certain that the Old-English poem on a ruined city in the Codex Exoniensis refers to Bath. It is a pity that his account is hidden in the Proceedings of the Bath Natural History and Antiquarian Field Club, vol. ii. no. 3, 1872.

[107] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 310.

[108] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “And syððon foron út of þam castele and hergodon Baðon, and eall þæt land þær abutan.” Florence adds the burning; “Rotbertus … congregato exercitu invasit Bathoniam, civitatem regiam, eamque igne succendit.”

[109] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Illa [Bathonia] deprædata, transivit in Wiltusciram, villasque depopulans, multorumque hominum strage facta, tandem adiit Givelceastram, obsedit, et expugnare disposuit.”

[110] Geveltone, now Yeovilton, was held by one Ralph under William of Eu (Domesday, 96 b). Givele, now Yeovil, was held by Count Robert (Domesday, 93). All these names come in various corruptions from the river Givel or Ivel, also called Yeo. Only in Yeovil we may trace a bit of false etymology, which has also set the pattern to Yeovilton.

[111] I took with me to Ilchester a book by the Rev. W. Buckler, “Ilchester Almshouse Deeds” (Yeovil, 1866), which contains the accounts of Ilchester from Leland, Camden, and Stukeley, together with Stukeley’s map. The last-named writer may have drawn somewhat on his imagination; but I could trace the line of the walls, represented in a great part of their course by modern buildings. Under the circumstances of the site, the usual carfax is not to be found at Ilchester, any more than at Godmanchester.

[112] Domesday, 86 a. “In Givelcestre sunt 107 burgenses, reddentes xx. solidos. Mercatum cum suis appendiciis reddit xi. libras.”

[113] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Pugnant exterius spe capti prædæ et amore victoriæ, repugnant intrinsecus acriter pro se suorumque salute. Tandem inter utrumque necessitatis vicit causa; repulsus et tristis recedit Rotbertus privatus victoria.” The Chronicle and William of Malmesbury do not speak of Ilchester. William thus sums up the campaign; “Gaufridus episcopus, cum nepote, Bathoniam et Bercheleiam partemque pagi Wiltensis depopulans, manubias apud Bristou collocabat.”

[114] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 144.

[115] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “And eall Beorclea hyrnesse hi awæston.” Florence more fully; “Willelmus de Owe Glawornensem invadit comitatum, regiam villam deprædatur Beorchelaum, per totam ferro et flamma grande perpetrat malum.”

[116] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 557.

[117] See Domesday, 164. But it had already given a name to Roger and Ralph of Berkeley; Domesday, 168. From Roger’s descendants it passed by marriage to Robert the son of Harding. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 758.

[118] Domesday, 163. “In Nesse [Sharpness] sunt v. hidæ pertinentes ad Berchelai quos W. comes misit extra ad faciendum unum castellulum.”

[119] Since I wrote the fourth volume of the Norman Conquest, there has been much controversy about the origin of Robert Fitz-Harding. (See Notes and Queries, Jan. 3rd, 1880.) I am confirmed on the whole in my old belief that he was the son of Harding the son of Eadnoth.

[120] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 590, 855.

[121] See above, p. 33.

[122] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Þa men þe yldest wæron of Hereforde, and eall þeo scír forþmid, and þa men of Scrobscyre mid mycele folce of Brytlande.”

[123] See above, p. 33.

[124] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Cum hominibus comitis Rogerii de Scrobbesbyria.” Yet the Chronicler says distinctly, “And Rogere eorl wæs eac æt þam unræde.” That is, he joined in the conspiracy, but did not take a personal share in the war.

[125] See above, p. 35, note 3.

[126] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Congregato magno Anglorum, Normannorum, et Walensium exercitu.”

[127] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 395.

[128] Ib. vol. i. p. 520.

[129] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Þa men … comon and hergodon and þærndon on Wiðreceastrescire forð, and hi comon to þam porte sylfan, and woldon þa þæne port bærnen, and þæt mynster reafian, and þæs cynges castel gewinnan heom to handa.” Florence adds, “grandem de regis incolis fidelibus sumpturos vindictam.” On the deliverance of Worcester, see Appendix D.

[130] Florence brings in his own Bishop with a panegyric; “Vir magnæ pietatis et columbinæ simplicitatis, Deo populoque quern regebat in omnibus amabilis, regi, ut terreno domino, per omnia fidelis, pater reverendus Wlstanus.” In the Chronicle he is simply “se arwurða bisceop Wlfstan.” He goes on to make his exhortation after the manner of Moses.

[131] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 61.

[132] Ib. vol. iv. p. 579.

[133] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 174.

[134] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 379.

[135] Ib.

[136] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Normanni interim, ineuntes consilium, rogant ipsum episcopum ut ab ecclesia transiret in castellam, tutiores se affirmantes de ejus præsentia, si majus incumberet periculum; diligebant enim eum valde. Ipse enim, ut erat miræ mansuetudinis, et pro regis fidelitate, et pro eorum dilectione, petitioni eorum adquievit.”

[137] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 174.

[138] Flor. Wig. u. s. “Interea audenter in arma se parat episcopalis familia.” On the nature of this “familia,” see N. C. vol. v. p. 496.

[139] Ib. “Inter quos [hostes] magna belli jam fervebat insania; contumaciter enim episcopi contemnentes mandata, in terram ipsius posuerunt incendia.” On the order of events, see Appendix D.

[140] Ib. “Conveniunt castellani et omnis civium turma, occurrere se affirmant hostibus ex altera parte Sabrinæ fluminis, si hoc eis pontificis annueret licentia. Parati igitur et armis instructi, ipsum ad castellum euntem habent obviam, quam optabant requirunt licentiam; quibus libentur annuens, ‘Ite,’ inquit, ‘filii, ite in pace, ite securi, cum Dei et nostra benedictione.’ Confidens ego in Domino, spondeo vobis, non hodie nocebit vobis gladius, non quicquam infortunii, non quisquam adversarius. State in regis fidelitate, viriliter agentes pro populi urbisque salute.”

[141] Ib. “Episcopus ingenti concutitur dolore, videns debilitari res ecclesiæ, acceptoque inde consilio, gravi eos, ab omnibus qui circumaderant coactus, percussit anathemate.” See Appendix D.

[142] Ib. “Alacres pontem reparatum transeunt, hostes de longinquo accelerantes conspiciunt.”

[143] See Appendix D.

[144] Flor. Wig. u. s. “Cæduntur pedites, capiuntur milites, cum Normannis tam Angli quam Walenses, cæteris vero vix debili elapsis fuga [were the ‘milites’ spared for the sake of ransom?] regis fideles cum pontificis familia, exultantes in gaudio, sine ulla diminutione suorum, redeunt ad propria; gratias Deo referunt de rerum ecclesiæ incolumitate, gratias episcopo referunt de consilii ejus salubritate.”

[145] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 386.

[146] Chron. Petrib, 1088. “Þe wæs ærur heafod to þam unræde.”

[147] See above, p. 29.

[148] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Ðe bisceop Odo, þe þas cyng of awocan, ferde into Cent to his earldome and fordyde hit swyðe, and þæs cynges land and þæs arcebisceopes mid ealle aweston, and brohte eall þæt gód into his castele on Hrofeceastre.” This follows at once on the accounts of Roger the Bigod and Hugh of Grantmesnil. So William of Malmesbury, who here brings in the story of Lanfranc’s share in Odo’s imprisonment in 1082, in order to account for Odo’s special hatred towards the Archbishop.

[149] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 267, 296. On the early history of Rochester generally, see Mr. Hartshorne’s paper in the Archæological Journal, September, 1863.

[150] This is brought out by Orderic, 667 B; “Oppidum igitur Rovecestræ sollicita elegerunt provisione, quoniam, si rex eos non obsedisset in urbe, in medio positi laxis habenis Lundoniam et Cantuariam devastarent, et per mare, quod proximum est, insulasque vicinas, pro auxiliis conducendis nuntios cito dirigerent.” The islands must be Sheppey and Thanet.

[151] See the siege of Rochester in 1215 and his defence by William of Albini in Roger of Wendover, iii. 333.

[152] For the siege of 1264 see W. Rishanger, Chron. p. 25 (Camd. Soc.). On Simon’s military engines he remarks that the Earl “exemplum relinquens Anglicis qualiter circa castrorum assultationes agendum sit, qui penitus hujusmodi diebus illis fuerant ignari.” A forerunner of Kanarês, he had a fire-ship in the river; he also used mines, as the Conqueror had done at Exeter.

[153] Mr. Hartshorne showed distinctly that the present tower of Rochester was not built by Gundulf, but by William of Corbeuil. See the passages which he quotes from Gervase, X Scriptt. 1664, and the continuator of Florence, 1126. But we have seen (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 366) that Gundulf did build a stone castle at Rochester for William Rufus (“castrum Hrofense lapidum”), and we should most naturally look for it on the site of the later one. On the other hand, there is a tower, seemingly of Gundulf’s building and of a military rather than an ecclesiastical look, which is now almost swallowed up between the transepts of the cathedral. But it would be strange if a tower built for the King stood in the middle of the monastic precinct.

[154] The odd position of the cloister at Rochester suggests the notion that Gundulf’s church occupied only the site of the present eastern limb, and that the later Norman nave was an enlargement rather than a rebuilding.

[155] Domesday, 2 b. “Episcopus de Rouecestre pro excambio terræ in qua castellum sedet, tantum de hac terra tenet quod xvii.s. et iv.d. valet.” This is said of land at Aylesford; but the castle spoken of must surely be that of Rochester. The Domesday phrase “sedet” seems beautifully to describe either the massive square donjon or the shell-keep on the mound; yet it may be doubted whether Rochester had either in the Conqueror’s day.

[156] This ditch is said to have been traced right across the middle of the cathedral, with the twelfth-century nave to the west of it. I can say nothing either way from my own observation; but such an extension of the church to the west would exactly answer to the extension of the churches of Le Mans and Lincoln to the east. In both those cases the Roman wall had to give way.

[157] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 367.

[158] Ord. Vit. 667 A. “Tunc Odo Bajocensis cum quingentis militibus intra Rofensem urbem se conclusit, ibique Robertum ducem cum suis auxiliaribus secundum statuta quæ pepigerant præstolari proposuit.” The last clause of course implies the supposed earlier agreement with Duke Robert, on which see above, p. 25, and Appendix B.

[159] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Rumore autem percussus insolito, comes exultat, amicis nunciat, quasi jam de victoria securus triumphat, plures ad prædam incitat; Odoni episcopo, patruo suo, auxiliarios in Angliam legat, se quantocius, congregato majori exercitu, secuturum affirmat.”

[160] Ib. “Prædictus episcopus Baiocensis, munita Roveceastra, misit Normanniam, exhortans comitem Rotbertum cito venire in Angliam, nuntians ei rem gestam, affirmans paratum sibi regnum, et si sibi non desisteret, paratam et coronam.”

[161] Ib. “Missi a comite Rotberto venerunt in Angliam, ab Odone episcopo ad custodiendum receperunt Roveceastram; et horum ut primates Eustatius junior, comes Bononiæ, et Rotbertus de Beleasmo gerebant curam.” Here we have (see Appendix B) the true moment of their coming. From this point we may accept the account in Orderic (667 B); “Prædictum oppidum Odo præsul et Eustachius comes atque Robertus Bellesmensis, cum multis nobilibus viris et mediocribus, tenebant, auxiliumque Roberti ducis, qui desidia mollitieque detinebatur, frustra exspectabant.” We meet them again in 765 B.

[162] “Eustatius junior,” “Eustatius þe iunga.” See N. C. vol. iv. p. 745.

[163] They are mentioned in the Chronicle along with the incidental mention of Eustace; “Innan þam castele wæron swiðe gode cnihtas, Eustatius þe iunga, and Rogeres eorles þreo sunan, and ealle þa betstboren men þe wæron innan þisan lande oððe on Normandige.” This is followed by William of Malmesbury (iv. 306); “Erat tunc apud Roveceastram omnis pene juventutis ex Anglia et Normannia nobilitas; tres filii Rogerii comitis, et Eustachius Bononiæ junior, multique alii quos infra curam nostram existimo.”

[164] The three sons of Earl Roger can hardly fail to be his three eldest sons (see Will. Gem. vii. 16; Ord. Vit. 708 D), Robert, Hugh, and Roger, all of whom figure in our story. Arnulf does not appear in English history till later, and Philip the clerk does not appear at all. Geoffrey Gaimar (Chron. Ang. Norm. i. 35), after setting forth the possessions of Robert of Bellême, mentions the other three; but one does not exactly see why he says,

“Le conte Ernulf ert le quarte frère, Par cors valeit un emperère.”

Cf. Ord. Vit. 708 D, 808 C.

[165] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 488.

[166] See above, p. 33.

[167] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Rogerus fautor Rotberti erat in castello suo Arundello, comitis prædicti opperiens adventum.”

[168] See N. C. iv. 66, v. 808.

[169] See Tierney’s History of Arundel, i. 43.

[170] Domesday, 23 “Modo inter burgum et portum aquæ et consuetudinem navium reddit xii. libras et tamen valet xiii. libras. De his habet S Nicolaus xxiiii. solidos.” “Clerici sancti Nicolai” are mentioned again in the next column. The church then was secular in 1086; but the clerks must have soon given way to the priory of Saint Nicolas, founded by Earl Roger himself as a cell to his abbey at Seez; in 1386 it gave way to the college of Arundel.

[171] See N. C. iv. p. 501.

[172] Domesday, 23. “Modo est ipsa civitas in manu comitis Rogerii.” Here he had one quarter of a Roman chester, while the Bishop had another; yet there were sixty houses more than there had been T. R. E.

[173] See the customs of Lewes and the rights of William of Warren in Domesday, 26. The toll on selling a man was threepence. The two mounds of the castle, the smaller known as Brack Mount, are rare, perhaps unique. The inner gateway seems to be of Earl William’s building.

[174] I suspect that the original title of the Earls of Arundel was Earl of Sussex, and that the name of the castle came to be used, much as the successors of William of Warren, strictly Earls of Surrey, are more commonly called Earls Warren. See more in Tierney’s History of Arundel.

[175] Lucan, iv. 819.

[176] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 161.

[177] Ord. Vit. 666 D. “Rex Guillelmus, ut vidit suos in terra sua contra se pessima cogitare, et per singula crebrescentibus malis ad pejora procedere; non meditatus est ut timida vulpes ad tenebrosas cavernas fugere, sed ut leo fortis et audax rebellium conatus terribiliter comprimere.”

[178] Will. Malms. iv. 306. “Nec minori astutia Rogerium de Monte Gomerico, secum dissimulata perfidia equitantem, circumvenit.”

[179] Ib. “Seorsum enim ducto magnam ingessit invidiam; dicens, Libenter se imperio cessurum, si illi et aliis videatur quos pater tutores reliquerat. Non se intelligere quid ita effrænes sint: si velint, pecunias accipiant pro libito; si augmentum patrimoniorum, eodem modo; prorsus, quæ velint, habeant. Tantum videant ne judicium genitoris periclitetur: quod si de se putaverint aspernandum, de se ipsis caveant exemplum; idem enim se regem, qui illos duces fecerit. His verbis comes et pollicitationibus incensus, qui primus factionis post Odonem signifer fuit, primus defecit.” Roger of Wendover (ii. 33) adds the words “pœnitentia ductus.”

[180] Orderic a little later (667 B) says, “Rogerus Merciorum comes, multique Normannorum, qui cum rege foris obsidebant, clam adminiculari quantum poterant inclusis satagebant.”

[181] Orderic (680 C) puts the creation of this earldom somewhat later, at the Gemót held just before the invasion of Normandy in 1090. He adds that the new earl died soon after (“quem paulo post mors nulli parcens e medio rapuit”), and records his burial at Lewes, and adds his epitaph. There is no better authority than that of the Hyde writer (298) for placing the creation at this time or for placing the Earl’s death a little later (see below, p. 76). But his narrative is so minute that one would think that he must have had some kind of ground for it. His words are; “Rex Willelmus … videns igitur principes regni nutantes et exercitum a se dilabi, sapienti usus consilio, Willelmum de Warennia, virum bellicosum, animo ferum et corpore strenuum famaque præclarum, in amicitia Asarum [what this may mean I have no notion, but the editor vouches that such is the reading of the MS.] comitis honore sublimat, multa impendit multaque promittit.”

[182] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 251.

[183] Ord. Vit. 667 C. “Omnes episcopi Angliæ cum Anglis sine dolo regem juvabant, et pro serena patriæ pace, quæ bonis semper amabiles est, laborabant.”

[184] The appeal to the English is strongly marked in the Chronicle; “Ða þe cyng undergeat ealle þas þing and hwilcne swicdom hi dydon toweard his, þa wearð he on his mode swiðe gedrefed. Sende þa æfter Englisce mannan, and heom fore sæde his neode and gyrnde heora fultumes.” Simeon of Durham gives a free translation quite independent of Florence; “Hoc audito, rex fecit convocare Anglos, et ostendit eis traditionem Normannorum, et rogavit ut sibi auxilio essent.” But the appeal comes out no less strongly in Orderic (666 D); “Lanfrancum archiepiscopum cum suffraganeis præsulibus, et comites, Anglosque naturales convocavit, et conatus adversariorum, ac velle suum expugnandi eos indicavit.” The writ comes from William of Malmesbury, iv. 306; “Ille, videns Normannos pene omnes in una rabie conspiratos, Anglos probos et fortes viros, qui adhuc residui erant, invitatoriis scriptis accersiit.” It is singular that Florence mentions the English only in an incidental way a little later; “Congregato quantum ad præsens poterat Normannorum, sed tamen maxime Anglorum, equestri et pedestri, licet mediocri, exercitu.” Does the precious document spoken of by William of Malmesbury still lurk in any manuscript store?

[185] Chron. Petrib. “And behet heom þa betsta laga þe æfre ær wæs on þisan lande, and ælc unriht geold he forbead, and geatte mannan heora wudas and slǽtinge.” William of Malmesbury (iv. 306) translates, “Bonas leges et tributorum levamen, liberasque venationes pollicens.” Florence is less literal; “Statuens leges, promittens fautoribus omnia bona.” Simeon gives another version; “Eo tenore, ut si in hac necessitate sibi fideles existerent, meliorem legem quam vellent eligere eis concederet, et omnem injustum scottum interdixit, et concessit omnibus silvas suas et venationem. Sed quicquid promisit, parvo tempore custodivit. Angli tamen fideliter eum juvabant.”

[186] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Jure regio, militari, ut impiger, fretus audacia, mittit legatos, vocat quos sibi credit fidos, vadit Lundoniam, belli tractaturus negotia, expeditionis provisum, necessaria.”

[187] See above, p. 29.

[188] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Ac Englisce men swa þeah fengon to þam cynge heora hlaforde on fultume.” The numbers come from Orderic (667A); “Anglorum triginta millia tunc ad servitium regis sponte sua convenerunt.”

[189] Ord. Vit. 667 A. “Passim per totum Albionem impera, omnesque rebelles deice regali justitia.”

[190] Ib. “Viriliter age, ut regis filius et legitime ad regnum assumptus; securus in hoc regno dominare omnibus.”

[191] Ord. Vit. 667 A. “Solerter Anglorum rimare historias, inveniesque semper fidos principibus suis Angligenas.” Fancy William Rufus sitting down to study the Chronicles, as his brother Henry may likely enough have done.

[192] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Ferdon þa toweard Hrofeceastre and woldon þone bisceop Odan begytan, þohtan gif hi hæfdon hine, þe wæs ærur heafod to þam unræde, þæt hi mihton þe bet begytan ealla þa oðre.”

[193] It is somewhat singular that, though Richard appears in Domesday as “Ricardus de Tonebrige” as well as “Ricardus filius Gisleberti comitis” (14 et al.), and though his “leva” or “lowy” (see Ellis, i. 212) is often spoken of, yet Tunbridge castle itself is not entered. See on Richard of Bienfaite, Clare, or Tunbridge, N. C. vol. ii. p. 196; iv. 579. A singular story is told in the Continuation of William of Jumièges (viii. 15), how Tunbridge was granted in exchange for Brionne, and measured by the rope. See Appendix S.

[194] At Tunbridge the mound and the gateway stand side by side, as indeed they do, though less conspicuously, at Arundel and Lewes. A wall is built from the gateway to the keep on the mound, losing itself, as it were, in the side of the mound. The mound thus stands half within and half without the enclosure formed by the gateway.

[195] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Þa Englisce men ferdon and tobræcon þone castel, and þa men þe þærinne wæron griðodon wið þone cyng,” So Simeon of Durham; “Sed viriliter Angli insilientes in illud, destruxerunt totum castrum, et qui intus erant in manus regi dederunt.” Florence gives some further details; “Tunebrycgiam cui præerat Gilebertus filius Ricardi, contrarium sibi invenit: obsedit, in biduo expugnavit, vulneratum Gilebertum cum castello ad deditionem coegit.” Is it possible that, according to Orderic’s second account of the rebellion (765 A, B), we are still only in the Easter week?

[196] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 366. While I am revising my text, an account of this tower by Mr. Clark has appeared in the Builder, November 27, 1880.

[197] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Se cyng mid his here ferde toweard Hrofeceastre, and wendon þæt se bisceop wære þærinne, ac hit wearð þam cynge cuð þæt se bisceop wæs afaren to þam castele on Pefenesea.” Florence helps us to an hexameter in the middle of his prose; “Relatum erat ei ibi esse episcopum Odonem cum omnibus suis et cohortem ultramarinam….

Fama volans dicti pervenit Odonis ad aures,
et cum sociis inito consilio, relinquens Roveceastram, cum paucis adiit castrum fratris sui Roberti Moritanensis comitis quod Pevenessa dicitur.” Are the “cohors ultramarina” those who had come with Eustace and Robert of Bellême?

[198] Flor. Wig. 1088. “Fratrem reperiens, cum ut se teneat hortatur, pollicens se securos ibi posse esse, et dum rex ad expugnandam Roveceastram intenderet, comitem Normanniæ cum magno exercitu venturum, seque suosque liberaturum et magna fautoribus suis dando præmia regnum accepturum.”

[199] Ord. Vit. 666 D. “Statuerat præcursores suos vere redeunte sequi cum multis legionibus militum.”

[200] Cont. Will. Gem. viii. 2. “Quum sui fideles eum exhortarentur ut regnum Angliæ sibi a fratre præreptum velocius armis sibimet restitueret, simplicitate solita et, ut ita dicam, imprudentiæ proxima, respondisse fertur, ‘Per angelos Dei [Gregory’s pun in another form], si essem in Alexandria, exspectarent me Angli, nec ante adventum meum Regem sibi facere auderent. Ipse etiam Willelmus frater meus, quod eum præsumpsisse dicitur, pro capite suo sine mea permissione minime attentaret.’”

[201] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Betwyx þissum se eorl of Normandige Rodbeard, þes cynges broðer, gaderode swiðe mycel folc, and þohte to gewinnane Englelande mid þæra manna fultume þe wæron innan þisan lande ongean þone cyng, and he sende of his mannan to þisum lande, and wolde cuman himsylf æfter.”

[202] Florence seems here to translate what the Chronicler had said a little before (see above, p. 67); “Inito itaque salubri consilio, illum eo usque cum exercitu persequitur, sperans se belli citius finem assequuturum, si ante triumphare posset de principibus malorum prædictorum.”

[203] So I find it called in several papers in the Sussex Archæological Collections. But the local antiquaries seem hardly to have fully grasped the fact that there is a town in Normandy called Laigle, and that the family with which we are concerned took its name from it.

[204] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “And se cyng mid his here ferde æfter, and besætt þone castel abutan mid swiðe mycele here fulle six wucan.” The artillery comes from Florence; “Accelerat, machinas parat, patruum utrumque obsidet; locus erat munitissimus; ad expugnationem indies laborat.” William of Malmesbury cuts the siege of Pevensey short, and Orderic leaves it out altogether.

[205] See Appendix E.

[206] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 395.

[207] Liber de Hyda, 299. “Willelmus de Warennia apud obsidionem Peveneselli sagitta in crure valde vulneratus, Leuwias cum omnium mœrore deportatus est.” The writer goes on to describe Earl William’s last testament and death. It will be remembered (see above, p. 62) that Orderic makes William of Warren die quietly at a later time; but, small as is the authority of the Hyde writer, it is strange if he altogether invented or dreamed this minute account.

[208] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Syððan heom ateorede mete wiðinnan þam castele, þa gyrndon hi griðas, and agefan hine þam cynge, and se bisceop swór þæt he wolde út of Englelande faran, and ná mare cuman on þisan lande butan se cyng him æfter sende, and þæt he wolde agyfan þone castel on Hrofeceastre.” So William of Malmesbury (iv. 306); “Captum ad quod libuit jusjurandum impulit, ut Anglia decederet et Rovecestram traderet.”

[209] Chron. u. s. “Ealswa se bisceop ferde and sceolde agifan þone castel and se cyng sende his men mid him.” So Will. Malms. “Ad quod implendum eum cum fidelibus suis præmisit, lento pede præeuntes subsecutus…. Regii cum episcopo pauci et inermes (quis enim eo præsente insidias timeret?) circa muros desiliunt, clamantes oppidanis ut portas aperiant; hoc episcopum præsentem velle, hoc regem absentem jubere.”

[210] Will. Malms. u. s. “At illi, de muro conspicati quod vultus episcopi cum verbis oratorum non conveniret, raptim apertis portis ruunt, equos involant, omnesque cum episcopo vinctos abducunt.” This explains the shorter account in the Chronicle; “þa arisan þa men þe wæron innan þam castele, and namon þone bisceop and þes cynges men, and dydon hi on hæftmenge.” It is now that both the Chronicle and William give the names of the chief nobles who were in the castle. Henry of Huntingdon (1088, p. 215) strongly marks Odo’s treachery; “Eustachius consul et cæteri proceres qui urbi inerant, fallacia ipsius, episcopum regisque ministros ceperunt et in carcerem retruserunt.”

[211] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 104.

[212] Will. Malms, iv. 306. “Ille [rex]…. Anglos suos appellat; jubet ut compatriotas advocent ad obsidionem venire, nisi si qui velint sub nomine Niðing, quod nequam sonat, remanere. Angli, qui nihil miserius putarent quam hujusce vocabuli dedecore aduri, catervatim ad regem confluunt, et invincibilem exercitum faciunt.” This leaves out the fact that the proclamation was addressed both to French and English. The words of the Chronicle are express; “Ða se cyng undergeat þat þing, þa ferde he æfter mid þam here þe he þær hæfde, and sende ofer eall Englalande, and bead þæt ælc man þe wære unniðing sceolde cuman to him, Frencisce and Englisce, of porte and of uppelande.” We can hardly doubt that we have here the actual words of the proclamation. It must not be forgotten that, by the law of the Conqueror, Frenchmen who had settled in King Eadward’s day were counted as English. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 620.

[213] Ord. Vit. 667 B. “Animosus rex … oppidum Maio mense cum grandi exercitu potenter obsedit, firmatisque duobus castellis omnem exeundi facultatem hostibus abstulit.” It must have been late in May, as six weeks had been spent before Pevensey. Indeed, if the siege did begin in the Easter week, it must have been June.

[214] See Mr. Clark in the Archæological Journal, vol. xxxii. p. 205.

[215] This appears from the words of Florence; “Hrofenses Cantwariensibus et Lundoniensibus cædes inferunt et incendia. Landfrancus enim archiepiscopus et pene omnes optimates ejusdem provinciæ erant cum rege.” Orderic too (u. s.) points out the advantageous position of Rochester for such purposes; “In medio positi laxis habenis Lundoniam et Cantuariam devastarent.”

[216] See N. C. vol. v. p. 748.

[217] Ord. Vit. 667 C. “In oppido Rofensi plaga similis Ægyptiorum plagæ apparuit, qua Deus, qui semper res humanas curat et juste disponit, antiqua miracula nostris etiam temporibus recentia ostendit.” Nobody could eat, unless his neighbour drove away the flies; so they wielded the flapper by turns.

[218] See above, p. 62.

[219] Will. Malms. iv. 306. “Nec diutius potuere pati oppidani quin se traderent, experti quamlibet nobilem, quamlibet consertam manum, nihil adversus regem Angliæ posse proficere.”

[220] Ord. Vit. 667 D. “Guillermum regem nuntiis petierunt ut pacem cum eis faceret, ac oppidum ab eis reciperet, tali tenore ut terras, fundos, et omnia quæ hactenus habuerant, ab ipso reciperent, et ipsi eidem ut naturali domino [cynehlaford] fideliter amodo servirent.”

[221] Ord. Vit. 667 D. “His auditis rex iratus est, et valde rigidus intumuit, et in nullo flexus legatorum postulationibus non acquievit; sed perfidos traditores in oppido virtute potenti capiendos juravit, et mox patibulis suspendendos, et aliis mortium diversis generibus de terra delendos asseruit.”

[222] Ib. “Ecce turgidi juvenes et cupiditate cæcati senes jam satis edocti sunt quod regiæ vires in hac insula nondum defecerunt. Nam qui de Normannia, tamquam milvi ad prædam, super nos cum impetu advolarunt, et in Anglia regiam stirpem defecisse arbitrati sunt, jam Guillelmum juvenem Guillelmo sene non debiliorem, cohibente Deo, experti sunt.”

[223] Ord. Vit. 668 B. “Quid sceleratis peccavi? quid illis nocui? quid mortem meam totis nisibus procuraverunt, et omnes pro posse suo contra me populos cum detrimento multorum erexerunt?”

[224] Ib. “Quisquis parcit perjuris et latronibus, plagiariis et execratis proditoribus, aufert pacem et quietem innocentibus, innumerasque cædes et damna serit bonis et inermibus.” We seem to be reading the cover of the Edinburgh Review.

[225] Ord. Vit. 668 C. “Baiocensis Odo patruus tuus est et pontificali sanctificatione præditus est.” “Cum patre tuo Anglos subjugavit”—a merit which would hardly be pleaded in the hearing of the King’s army. He is “antistes Domini,” and so forth. “Omnes precamur ut illi benevolentiam tuam concedas et illæsum in Normanniam ad diocesim suam abire permittas.”

[226] Ib. “Comes Boloniensis patri tuo satis fuit fidelis, et in rebus arduis strenuus adjutor et contubernalis.” There must be some confusion between father and son.

[227] Ib. “Magnam Normanniæ partem possidet, fortissimisque castellis corroboratus pene omnibus vicinis suis et Neustriæ proceribus præeminet.”

[228] Here (ib. D) a hexameter peeps out;

“Idem qui lædit, fors post ut amicus obedit.”

It is the doctrine of Aias in Sophoklês (659);

ἐγὼ δ’ ἐπίσταμαι γὰρ ἀρτίως, ὅτι
ὅ τ’ ἐχθρὸς ἡμῖν ἐς τοσόνδ’ ἐχθαρτέος,
ὡς καὶ φιλήσων αὖθις.

The balancing clause was not called for.

[229] They were (ib.) “eximii tirones”—“swiðe gode cnihtas”—“quorum servitutem, inclite rex, parvi pendere non debes.”

[230] Ib. “Igitur, quos jam superasti potestate, divitiis, et ingenti probitate, subjuga tibi magnificentia et pietate.” On the sense of “magnificentia,” cf. N. C. vol. i. p. 261.

[231] Ord. Vit. 668 D. “Omnem spem habendi hæreditates et terras in regno ejus, quamdiu ipse regnaret, funditus abscidit.”

[232] Ord. Vit. 668 D. “Tunc Odo pontifex a rege Rufo impetrare temptavit, ne tubicines in eorum egressu tubis canerent, sicut moris est dum hostes vincuntur et parvum oppidum capitur.” Why “parvum”?

[233] Ib. “Nec se concessurum etiam propter mille auri marcos palam asseruit.”

[234] Ib. “Oppidanis cum mœrore et verecundia egredientibus, et regalibus tubis cum gratulatione clangentibus.”

[235] Ord. Vit. 669 A. “Multitudo Anglorum quæ regi adhærebat cunctis audientibus, vociferabatur, et dicebat; Torques, torques afferte, traditorem episcopum cum suis complicibus patibulis suspendite. Magne rex Anglorum, cur sospitem pateris abire incentorem malorum? Non debet vivere perjurus homicida, qui dolis et crudelitatibus peremit hominum multa milia.”

[236] Ib. “Hæc et alia probra mœstus antistes cum suis audivit.”

[237] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Se bisceop Odo mid þam mannum þe innan þam castele wæron ofer sæ ferdon, and se bisceop swa forlet þone wurðscipe þe he on þis land hæfde.” Orderic (669 A)—in his character of “Angligena”—moralizes; “Sic irreligiosus præsul de Anglia expulsus est, et amplissimis possessionibus spoliatus est. Tunc maximos quæstus, quos cum facinore obtinuit, justo Dei judicio cum ingenti dedecore perdidit, et confusus Baiocas rediit, nec in Angliam postmodum repedavit.”

[238] Ord. Vit. 669 A. “Anno primo Guillelmi Rufi regis, in initio æstatis, Rofensis urbs ei redita est, omniumque qui contra pacem enses acceperant, nequam commotio compressa est.” We shall see by the story of Robert of Rhuddlan, to which we shall presently come, that some of the King’s followers were at home again by the end of June.

[239] See above, p. 74.

[240] Chron. Petrib. 1088. “Eac manige Frencisce men forleton heora land and ferdon ofer sæ, and se cyng geaf heora land þam mannum þe him holde wæron.”

[241] Ord. Vit. 669 B. “Quorumdam factiones sævissimis legibus puniit, aliquorum vero reatus ex industria dissimulavit. Antiquis baronibus, quos ab ipso aliquantum desciverat nequitia, versute pepercit, pro amore patris sui cui diu fideliter inhæserant, et pro senectutis reverentia, sciens profecto quod non eos diu vigere sinerent morbi et mors propria. Porro quidam, quanto gravius se errasse in regiam majestatem noverunt, tanto ferventius omni tempore postmodum ei famulati sunt, et tam muneribus quam servitiis ac adulationibus multis modis placere studuerunt.”

[242] See above, p. 32.

[243] See above, p. 28.

[244] See above, p. 88.

[245] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 409, 825, and below, p. 139.

[246] Mon. Ang. i. 245. “Tandem misi sibi rex abbatem sancti Augustini, mandans ei ut, sicut prius mandaverat sibi, ad curiam suam cum abbate veniret. Episcopus autem, inimicorum suorum insidias cum regis ira metuens, sine bono conductu se non posse venire respondet et legatos suos per abbatis conductum cum subscriptis litteris regi misit.”

[247] Ib. “Homines meos et terras et pecuniam quam vicecomites vestri ubicumque poterant, mihi abstulerunt, scilicet Offedene et Welletune quas diviserunt Odoni et Alano comitibus, cum cæteris terris in Ewerwickschire.” See above, p. 31. On Count Alan, see N. C. vol. iv. p. 294, and on Odo, vol. iv. pp. 301, 805.

[248] Ib. “Quod breve cum mississem Radulfo Paganello non solum mihi pacem negavit sed et de parte vestra me diffidavit.” On diffidatio see Ducange in voce. In N. C. vol. v. p. 270 we have a case of the man defying his lord. Here the lord defies his man. In either case there is the withdrawal of one side of the mutual duty of lord and man.

[249] Ib. “Hominum vero quosdam vendidit, quosdam redimi permisit.”

[250] Mon. Ang. i. 245. “Hoc in veritate vobis mando quod libenter cum hoc abbate venissem, nisi plus inimicos meos et indoctam populi multitudinem timuissem quod de vestro brevi et baronum vestrorum fiducia dubitassem.”

[251] Ib. “Rex visis his litteris misit conductum episcopo et bene affidavit eum per litteras suas quod per eum vel per suos homines nullum ei damnum eveniret usque quo de rege rediens Dunelmum intraret. Perrexit ergo episcopus ad regem.”

[252] Mon. Ang. i. 245. “Episcopus … deprecatus est eum ut rectitudinem sibi consentiret sicut episcopo suo. Rex autem respondit ei, Quod si laicaliter placitare vellet, et extra pacem quam rex ei dederat se mitteret, hoc modo rectitudinem sibi consentiret, et, si hoc modo placitare recusaret, Dunelmum faceret eum reconduci.”

[253] Ib. “Dunelmum rediit episcopus, cui rex interim plus quam septingentos homines cum multa præda abstulerat.”

[254] They were to have (Mon. Ang. i. 246) the “securitas et conductus regis” till they had crossed—“donec ultra mare ad terram siccam cum rebus suis essent.” The catalogue of the “res suæ” is curious; “Et liceret eos per conductum regis secum ducere et portare [ἄγειν καὶ φέρειν] aurum et argentum, equos et pannos et arma et canes et accipitres, et sua prorsus omnia quæ de terra portari debent.” The hawks and hounds remind us of Harold setting sail from Bosham in the Tapestry. See N. C. vol. iii. p. 222.

[255] Mon. Ang. i. 246. “Episcopus dedit fidem suam Rogero Pictavensi, quod si ipse per præscriptam condicionem castellum reduceretur, et major fortitudo in castello missa vel facta esset in hominibus vel in munitione vel in castelli fortitudine quam eadem die ibi erat, episcopus totum illud destrui faceret, ita quod episcopus inde nullum proficuum haberet nec rex damnum.”

[256] Mon. Angl. i. 246. “In quarto nonas Novembris … venit episcopus Salisbiriam, quem cum Ursus de Habetot unus ex servientibus regis ad regem intrare moneret.” On Urse of Abetot, see N. C. vol. iv. pp. 173, 383, 579, 820.

[257] Ib. “Episcopus reqnisivit ab archiepiscopis utrum revestitus ingredi deberet, dixitque, ‘Nihil se prorsus acturum ibi nisi canonice et secundum ordinem suum et sibi videbatur quod ecclesiastica consuetudo exigebat ut ipse revestitus ante revestitos causam suam diceret et causantibus canonice responderet,’ Cui Lanfrancus archiepiscopus respondens, ‘bene possumus,’ inquit, ‘hoc modo vestiti de regalibus tuisque negotiis disceptare, vestes enim non impediunt veritatem,’”

[258] See William FitzStephen, iii. 56, Robertson.

[259] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Episcopus surgens precatus est regem ut episcopatum suum quem jamdiu sine judicio abstulerat sibi redderet. Lanfrancus vero, rege tacente, dixit, ‘Rex de episcopatu tuo nihil tibi abstulit vel aliquis per eam neque breve suum vidisti per quod te de episcopatu tuo dissaisiret vel dissaisiri præciperet.’”

[260] The Bishop now tells his grievances at length. After other wrongs the King “misit comites et barones cum exercitu suo, et per eos totum episcopatum meum vastavit, terras quoque et homines et pecuniam Sancti Cuthberti et meam mihi abstulit. Nostram etiam sedem me ad tempus abjuvare coegit; ipsi etiam casati ecclesiæ qui mei homines ligii fuerant et quidquid habebant de casamento ecclesiæ tenebat ex præcepto regis guerram mihi fecerunt, et terras suas de rege tenentes pacifice hic eos cum rege video adversum me convenisse.”

[261] “Rectitudinem facere” is the technical phrase. See Appendix C.

[262] “Tunc laici hujusmodi verbis Lanfranci totius Angliæ primatis animati, adversus episcopum exclamantes dixerunt ‘injustum esse quod rex episcopo responderet antequam regi fecisset justitiam.’ Laicis vero hæc et alia multa declamantibus et iterantibus, facto silentio, dixit episcopus.”

[263] “Domini barones et laici, permittite me, quæso, quæ dicturus sum regi dicere, archiepiscopis et episcopis respondere, quia nihil vobis habeo dicere, et, sicut huc non veni judicium vestrum recepturus, ita illud omnino recuso, et si domino nostri regi et archiepiscopis et episcopis placuisset vos hic negotio interesse, nec me taliter obloqui decuisset.”

[264] See the complaints from the ecclesiastical side in N. C. vol. iv. p. 436.

[265] Mon. Angl. i. 247. “Tunc Rogerus Bygotus dixit regi, ‘Vos debetis episcopo dicere unde eum appellare vultis, et postea, si ipse nobis voluerit respondere de responsione sua facite eum judicari; sin autem, facite inde quod barones vestri vobis consulerent.’”

[266] I cannot identify this Hugh. “Hugo cognomento pauper” (Ord. Vit. 806 A), son of Count Robert of Meulan, and afterwards Earl of Bedford (Gest. Steph. 61), was not yet born.

[267] See above, p. 30.

[268] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Rex te appellat quod, cum ipse audivit quod inimici sui super eum veniebant, et homines sui, episcopus scilicet Baiocensis et Rogerus comes et alii plures regnum suum pariter sibi et coronam auferre volebant, et ipse per consilium tuum contra illos equitabat.” There is something odd in this calm mention of Earl Roger as an open rebel.

[269] See above, p. 28.

[270] Macaulay, ii. 496–499, 510, 511.

[271] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Episcopus autem Hugoni respondit, ‘Hugo, dicas quidquid volueris, non tibi tamen hodie respondebo.’”

[272] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Tum multum tumultuantes laici, quidam rationibus, quidam vero contumeliis, adversus episcopum deiterarent.”

[273] Ib. “Domini archiepiscopi, nos non oporteret diutius hæc ita considerare, sed deceret nos surgere et episcopos et abbates convocare, quosdam etiam baronum et comitum istorum nobiscum habere, et cum eis juste decernere si episcopus debeat prius investiri vel ante investituram de querelis regis intrare in placitum.” The text has “S. Constantiensis episcopus,” but Bishop Geoffrey must be meant.

[274] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Ad hæc Lanfrancus archiepiscopus, ‘Non est necesse,’ inquit, ‘nos surgere, sed episcopus et homines sui egrediantur, et nos remanentes, tam clerici quam laici, consideremus equaliter quid inde juste facere debeamus.’”

[275] Ib. “Vade, nos enim juste faciemus quidquid fecerimus.”

[276] Ib. “Si ego hodie te et tuum ordinem judicare non potero, tu vel tuus ordo nunquam me amplius judicabitis.”

[277] Ib. “Vide autem qui in domo ista remanent et me judicare disponunt ut et canonicos judices habeant et canonice me judicent; si enim aliter agerent, eorum judicia penitus recusarem.”

[278] Ib. “Rege, cum suis episcopis et consulibus et vicecomitibus et præpositis et venatoribus aliisque quorumlibet officiorum, in judicio remanente.”

[279] We have met with Osgeat the Reeve in Domesday. See N. C. vol. v. p. 812. Croc the hunter, like others of his craft, appears in 49, 74 b. See Ellis, i. 403. This odd mixture of great and small officials is not unusual. In the “Constitutio Domus Regis” in Hearne’s Liber Niger, i. 341, the descent from the Chancellor to the bakers and cooks—the huntsmen come at the end—is more sudden than one would have looked for, though certain chaplains and seneschals break the fall.

[280] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 423, 878.

[281] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Dominus noster archiepiscopus et regis curia vobis judicat quod rectitudinem regi facere debetis antequam de vestro feodo revestiat.”

[282] Ib. “Nullus mihi hodie vel ego alicui de feodo feci verbum,” says Bishop William. To which Archbishop Thomas answers, “Vobis judicat curia ista, quia de nulla re debet vos rex resaissire antequam sibi rectitudinem faciatis.”

[283] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Episcopi sunt judices, et eos ad consilium tuum habere non debes.”

[284] Ib. “Cum tuis ibi consule, quia de nostris in consilio tuo nullum prorsus habebis.”

[285] Ib. “Parum consilii in his septem hominibus habeo contra virtutem et scientiam totius hujus regni quod hic adversum me video congregatum.”

[286] Mon. Angl. u. s. “In lege nostra prohibitum invenio, ne tale judicium suspiciam.” This strange phrase, twice repeated, most likely refers to the False Decretals, of which he seems to have had a copy with him. See below, p. 109.

[287] Ib. “Apostolicam sedem Romanam, sanctam ecclesiam et beatum Petrum ejusque vicarium appello, ut ipsius ordinatione negotii mei justam sententiam suscipere merear, cujus dispositioni majores causas ecclesiasticas et episcoporum judicia antiqua apostolorum eorumque successorum atque canonum auctoritas reservavit.” Yet, according to the doctrine held long after by Thomas Stubbs (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 260), the Bishop of Durham need not have gone very far to find a Vicar of Saint Peter.

[288] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 338.

[289] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Dispoliatus episcopio extra provinciam meam, absentibus omnibus comprovincialibus meis, in laicali conventu causam meam dicere compellor.”

[290] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Nos non de episcopio sed de tuo te feodo judicamus, et hoc modo judicavimus Baiocensem episcopum ante patrem hujus regis de feodo suo, nec rex vocabat eum episcopum in placito illo, sed fratrem et comitem.”

[291] Ib. “Quia Dei gratia sapientissimus et nominatissimus estis, in hoc sapere vestrum tam sublime intelligo, quod parvitas mea illud comprehendere non potest; sed apostolicam sedem quam ex necessitate appellavi per licentiam regis et vestram adire volo.”

[292] Mon. Ang. u. s. “In omni loco in quo non violentia sed justitia dominetur, de scelere et perjurio me purgare paratus sum, et hoc quod hic pro judicio recitasti in Romana ecclesia falsum et injuste dictum esse monstrabo.”

[293] Ib. “In curia ista nullum ad præsens placitum subintrabo, quia nihil ibi tam bene dicerem quin fautores regis depravando perverterent, qui ipsam et non reverentes apostolicam auctoritatem post ejus appellationem me judicio non legali gravant, sed Dei et Sancti Petri postulans auxilium Romam vadam.”

[294] Ib. “Tunc rex ait, ‘Modo volo ut castellum tuum mihi reddas, quoniam judicium meæ curiæ non sequeris.’”

[295] Mon. Ang. i. 248. “Per vultum de Luca nunquam exibis de manibus meis donec castellum habeam.”

[296] Ib. “Ego passus sum per tres servientes vestros aufferri mihi terras et pecuniam ecclesiæ, præsentibus centum meis militibus, et in nullo prorsus vobis restiti.”

[297] Durham is described as “Urbs ipsa in qua sedes est ecclesiæ.” The Bishop adds; “Paratus sum bonos obsides et fiducias dare vobis, quod homines mei quos ibi dum Romam vado volo dimittere in fidelitate vestra eam custodient, et, si volueritis, libenter vobis servient.”

[298] “Tunc rex ait, ‘In veritate credas, episcope, quod nullo modo Dunelmum reverteris et quod homines tui Dunelmi nullatenus remanebunt, nec tu manus meas evades donec castellum tuum liberum mihi reddas.’”

[299] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Si episcopus amplius castellum suum vobis contradixerit, bene eum capere potestis, quia conductum quem hactenus habuit nunc dimittit, cum prior conventionem frangit, et barones vestros probare appetit quod fidem suam servarent non bene.”

[300] On Randolf Peverel and his alleged connexion with William, see N. C. vol. iii. p. 662; iv. 200; v. 26.

[301] Mon. Angl. i. 248. “Tunc Radulfus Piperellus et omnes laici unanimiter conclamantes dixerunt; ‘Capite eum, capite eum, bene enim loquitur iste vetustus ligaminarius.’” One would like to have the original French of this somewhat irreverent description of the Archbishop, but gaoler seems to be the most likely meaning of the unusual word ligaminarius.

[302] Ib. “Multum precor dominum meum regem ne fidem meam inde faciat me mentiri, nullum enim proficuum in me haberet ulterius.”

[303] Ib. “Rex bene vos adquietavit; plenam namque rectitudinem episcopo obtulit, et ipse eam vobis audientibus recusavit, regem quoque Romam injuste invitavit; recognoscat igitur episcopus hoc justum fecisse judicium, et si illud sequi nollet, et rex sibi naves inveniet et conductum.”

[304] “Christianam legem quam hic scriptam habeo, testem invoco.” See above, p. 104.

[305] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Non est justum ut placitum vel judicium regis pro aliqua contradictione longius procedat, sed quotiens in curia sua judicium agitur, ibidem necesse est ut concedatur vel contradicatur, tu ergo judicium nostrum vel hic concede, vel hic evidenti ratione contradicito.”

[306] Ib. “Rex ait, ‘Dicas licet quidquid velis, non tamen effugies manus meas nisi castellum prius mihi reddas.’” The Bishop has just before spoken of “Roma, ubi debeo et ubi justitia magis quam violentia.”

[307] Ib. “Cum vos non solum episcopatum, verum et omnia mea, injuste abstuleritis, et ipsam modo sedem violenter auferre velitis, pro nulla re quam facere possim capi me patiar.”

[308] Ib. “Constituta est ergo dies qua episcopus urbem suis hominibus vacuaret et rex ibi suos poneret.”

[309] Ib. “Tu pro regis damno et omnium nostrorum dedecore vadis Romam, et ipse tibi terram dimitteret? Remane in terra sua, et ipse episcopatum tuum præter urbem tibi reddet, ea conditione quod in curia sua judicio baronum suorum rectitudinem sibi facias.”

[310] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Ego apostolicam sedem appellavi, quia in curia ejus nullum justum judicio audio et nullo modo dimittam quin illuc vadam.”

[311] Ib. “Tunc rex ait, ‘Faciat mihi episcopus fiduciam quod damnum meum citra mare non quærat vel recipiat, et quod naves meas quas sibi inveniam non detinebit frater meus vel aliquis suorum ad damnum meum contra nautarum voluntatem.’”

[312] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Reginaldus Paganellus ait, ‘Certe comites vestri promiserunt hoc quod dicit episcopus et convenienter inde eos custodite.’” “Reginaldus” must surely be a slip for “Radulfus.”

[313] Ib. “‘Tace,’ inquit rex, ‘quia pro nullius fiducia naves meas perdere patiar, sed, si episcopus inde se fiduciam fecisse cognoverit, super illam aliam non requiram.’”

[314] Ib. “Tunc rex iratus ait, ‘Per vultum de Luca, in hoc anno mare non transibis, nisi fiduciam quam de navibus requiro prius modo feceris.’”

[315] Ib. “Faciam hanc et multo majorem, si necesse fuerit, fiduciam antequam hic in captione detinear; sed bene omnes audiant quod ea invitus faciam et captionis timore coactus.”

[316] Ib. “Rex ait, ‘Nullum conductum habebis, sed Wiltone moraberis donec ego vere sciam quod castellum habeam in mea potestate, et tunc demum naves recipies et conductum.’” Wilton seems an odd place for the purpose; should it be “Wintonie?”

[317] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Cum quod vellem et deberem facere non valeam, hoc ipsum quod dicitis injuste patiar et coactus.”

[318] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 215. “Walterus de Haiencora,” or “Haiencorn,” must be a corruption of his name.

[319] Mon. Angl. i. 249. “Precamur vos ut faciatis domino meo reddi pecuniam.” The name of the speaker is given as “Willelmus de Merlao.”

[320] Ib. “Rex ait, ‘Videant barones isti si ego juste possum implacitare episcopum.’”

[321] Ib. “Injustum esset si amplius implacitaretis eum, cum de vobis mihi teneat et securum conductum habere debeat.”

[322] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Bene scias, episcope, quod nunquam transfretabis donec castellum tuum habeam; episcopus enim Baiocensis inde me castigavit.”

[323] Gilbert of Bretevile appears as a considerable landowner in Hampshire (Domesday, 48) and Wiltshire (71). He may have been Sheriff of either shire.

[324] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 215, 800. Besides Erneis himself, we have heard of a Ralph Fitz-Erneis at Senlac, vol. iii. p. 494.

[325] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Dissaisiverunt episcopum de ecclesia et de castello et de omni terra sua xviii. Kal. Dec., et liberaverunt hominibus episcopi Helponem balistarium regis.” The King’s writ follows. Helpo must be Heppo. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 216. See Appendix C.

[326] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Accepit Ivo Taillesbosci duos milites episcopi, et coegit eos placitare de animalibus Constantiensis episcopi de quibus judicatum fuerat ante regem Dunelmensi episcopo non debere respondere.” It is of course possible that there might be some ground for impleading the knights, though not for impleading the Bishop.

[327] He had before asked; “dum in Anglia fuero, habetote mecum unum bonum hominem, qui et hospitia mihi inveniat et ab impedimento me defendat.” The “good man” assigned is “Robertus de Comitisvilla.” One would think that he was a kinsman of the husband of Herleva, the King’s step-grandfather.

[328] Roger in the text; but Robert must surely be meant.

[329] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Illi responderunt se nullam sibi navem liberaturos, et dixerunt regem sibi præcepisse ut bene servarent episcopum, ne de potestate regis exiret usque quo quid de eo fieri præciperet, illis per suas sigillatas literas remandaret.”

[330] Mon. Ang. u. s. “Venerunt ad eum Salesberiensis episcopus et Robertus de Insula et Ricardus de Cultura, et summonuerunt eum de parte regis, Kal. Decembr., ut in nativitate Domini esset Londoniæ ad curiam regis, et faceret ei rectitudinem de Gaufrido monacho suo, qui, postquam episcopus ad curiam venerat, de dominicatu episcopi quingenta et triginta novem animalia acceperat, et munitionem castelli abstulerat de quibusdam suis aliis hominibus, qui unum hominem regis occiderant.” The Gemót was therefore to be at Westminster, not in its regular place at Gloucester.

[331] Ib. “Quamvis juste facere potuissem, potui enim de meis facere quidquid volui, usquequo de mea sede me dissaisivit.”

[332] Ib. “Ad curiam ejus amplius ire non possum, ipse enim omnia mea mihi abstulit, et equos meos jam venditos manducavi.”

[333] He offers, “Solus, si liceat, transfretabo.”

[334] Mon. Angl. u. s. “Rex misit ei Wintoniensem episcopum et Hugonem de Portu et Gaufridum de Traileio, et per illos sibi mandavit ut Gaufridum monachum ad placitandum de prædictis forisfactis Dunelmum mitteret, et ipse Londoniam iret, ut in nativitate Domini de hominibus suis ibi rectitudinem regi faceret.”

[335] Ib. “Episcopus tristis misit ad comites Alanum et Rogerum et Odonem, mandans eis impedimenta sua, et conjuravit eos per eam fidem quam in baptismo susceperant et quam sibi promiserant.”

[336] Ib. “A Roberto fratre regis comite Normannorum honorifice susceptus, totius Normanniæ curam suscepit.”

[337] See above, p. 91, where he is afraid of the “indocta multitudo.”

[338] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 502, 675.

[339] Ann. Camb. 1087. “Resus filius Teudur a regno suo expulsus est a filiis Bledint, scilicet Madauc, Cadugan, et Ririt. Resus vero ex Hibernia classem duxit et revertitur in Britanniam.” The Brut is to the same effect.

[340] Ib. “Ingentem censum captivorum gentilibus et Scotis filius Teudur tradidit.” The Brut for “gentiles et Scoti” has “Yscotteit ar Gúydyl,” marking the Gwyddyl as heathen Ostmen. This is the most common use of the word in the British writers; but we can hardly think that the Scots here spoken of are Scots in the elder sense.

[341] In Ann. Camb. 1082, Trahaern (see N. C. iv. 675), with others, “a Reso filio Teudur et a Grifino filio Conani occidisus est.” This Gruffydd must be distinguished from Gruffydd son of Meredydd. He may be the “Grifin puer” of Domesday, 180 b. “Griffin rex” in p. 269 is surely Gruffydd son of Llywelyn.

[342] Ord. Vit. 669 B. “Grithfridus rex Guallorum cum exercitu suo fines Angliæ invasit, et circa Rodelentum magnam stragem hominum et incendia fecit, ingentem quoque prædam cepit, hominesque in captivitatem duxit.”

[343] Orderic (u. s.) specially marks Gruffydd’s invasion as happening “cum supradicta tempestate vehementer Anglia undique concuteretur et mutuis vulneribus incolæ regni quotidie mactarentur.”

[344] See above, pp. 34, 47. Now is the time for the exploits of the grandsons of Jestyn ap Gwrgan. See N. C. vol. v. p. 822, and Appendix DD.

[345] We have seen him among the rebels. See above, p. 34.

[346] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Robertus Rodelenti princeps de obsidione Rofensi rediens, et tam atroces damnososque sibi rumores comperiens, vehementer dolens ingemuit, et terribilibus minis iram suam evidenter aperuit.”

[347] Ib. 670 B. “Tertio die Julii Grithfridus rex Guallorum cum tribus navibus sub montem qui dicitur Hormaheva littori appulsus est.” It needs a moment’s thought to see that Hormaheva is Ormesheafod, the Orm’s Head. Here the name bears the Scandinavian form given to it doubtless by Northern rovers. The Worm’s Head in Gower, in its English form, marks the presence of Low-Dutch settlers, whether Flemish or Saxon.

[348] Ord. Vit. 670 B. “Incolis Britonibus sævo Marte repulsis, fines suos dilatavit, et in monte Dagaunoth, qui mari contiguus est, fortissimum castellum condidit.” Orderic has clearly got hold of the right names and the right incidents; but he has misconceived the topography.

Dwyganwy passes as the stronghold of that Maglocunus or Maelgwyn, whom Gildas (Ep. 33) addresses as “insularis draco, multorum tyrannorum depulsor, tam regno quam etiam vita” (cf. Nennius, c. 62, and Ann. Camb. 547, the year of his death). See Giraldus, It. Kamb. ii. 10; Descrip. Kamb. i. 5 (where he calls it “nobile castellum”), vol. vi. pp. 136, 176.

[349] Ord. Vit. 670 C. “Interim mare fluctus suos retraxit, et in sicco litore classis piratarum stetit. Grithfridus autem cum suis per maritima discurrit, homines et armenta rapuit, et ad naves exsiccatas festine remeavit.”

[350] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 176.

[351] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Clamor vulgi Robertum meridie dormitantem excitavit, eique hostilem discursum per terram suam nuntiavit. Ille vero, ut jacebat, impiger surrexit, et mox præcones ad congregandum agmen armatorum per totam regionem direxit. Porro ipse cum paucis bellatoribus imparatus Guallos prosecutus est, et de vertice montis Hormohevæ, qui nimis arduus est, captivos a piratis ligari, et in naves cum pecoribus præcipitari speculatus est.”

Orderic must surely have confounded the Orm’s Head itself with the lower hill of Dwyganwy. It is there, in or near his own castle, that we must conceive Robert sleeping, not on the Orm’s Head itself, or on any casual point of the flat ground between the two. To climb the higher of the two peaks of Dwyganwy would be perfectly natural, and would give him a wide enough view over the whole country. But to conceive him first crossing the flat, and then climbing a huge mountain for no particular object, seems quite out of the question.

[352] Ib. “Marchisus audax, ut leo nobilis, vehementer infremuit, hominesque paucos qui secum inermes erant, ut, antequam æstus maris rediret, super Guallos in sicco litore irruerent, admonuit.”

[353] Ord. Vit. 670 C. “Prætendunt suorum paucitatem, et per ardui montis præcipitium descendendi difficultatem.”

[354] Ib. “Nimis doluit, impatiensque moræ per difficilem descensum sine lorica cum uno milite nomine Osberno de Orgeriis, ad hostes descendit.” I cannot identify this Osbern, unless he be “Osbernus filius Tezonis,” who in Domesday (267 b, 268 b) holds a good deal of land in Cheshire under Earl Hugh, but none seemingly under Robert himself. For Orgères see Stapleton, ii. lxxxv.

[355] Ib. 670 D. “Quem cum viderent solo clypeo protectum et uno tantum milite stipatum, omnes pariter in illum missilia destinant, et scutum ejus jaculis intolerabiliter onerant, et egregium militem letaliter vulnerant. Nullus tamen, quamdiu stetit et parmam tenuit, ad eum comminus accedere, vel eum ense impetere ausus fuit.” Cf. the account of the death of Siccius in Dion. Hal. xi. 26. He has an ὑπασπιστής to play the part of Osbern of Orgères.

[356] Ib. “Bellicosus heros spiculis confossus genua flexit, et scutum missilibus nimis onustum viribus effœtus dimisit.”

[357] Ib. “In conspectu suorum caput ejus abscindunt ac super malum navis pro signo victoriæ suspendunt.”

[358] Ord. Vit. 670 D. “Classe parata piratas per mare fugientes persequebantur nimis tristes, dum caput principis sui super malum puppis intuebantur.”

[359] Ib. 671 A. “Cum nimio luctu Anglorum et Normannorum.” This may be well believed. Normans and English soon forgot their own differences in warfare with the Welsh.

[360] But Orderic has forgotten his dates when he says, “Nuper illud cœnobium Hugo Cestrensis consul construxerat, eique Ricardus Beccensis monachus abbas præerat.” We shall see as we go on that the monks were not planted at Saint Werburh’s till 1092 (see N. C. vol. iv. pp. 312, 491). It is now that Orderic speaks of the “belluini cœtus”—we are not told whether they were Norman, English, or Welsh—among whom Abbot Richard had to labour.

[361] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 489.

[362] His gifts in lands, tithes, and villains, in Normandy and in England, are reckoned up by Orderic, 669 C, D. Among them was “in civitate Cestra ecclesiam sancti Petri de mercato et tres hospites.”

[363] Ord. Vit. 671 B. “Rainaldus pictor, cognomento Bartolomæus, variis coloribus arcum tumulumque depinxit.”

[364] Ib. “Vitalis Angligena satis ab Ernaldo rogatus epitaphium elegiacis versibus hoc modo edidit.”

[365] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 490.

[366] Ord. Vit. 672 A;

“Eripe tartareis Robertum, Christe, camœnis [caminis];

Est nimis ipse reus; terge, precor, facinus;”

with four more lines to the same effect.

[367] Ord. Vit. 671 C, D.

“Montem Snaudunum fluviumque citum Colvenum,

Pluribus armatis transiliit vicibus.

Præcipuam pulcro Blideno rege fugato

Prædam cum paucis cepit in insidiis.

Duxit captivum lorisque ligavit Hoëllum

Qui tunc Wallensi rex præerat manui.

Cepit Grithfridum regem vicitque Trehellum;

Sic micuit crebris militiæ titulis.

Attamen incaute Wallenses ausus adire,

Occidit æstivi principio Julii.

Prodidit Owenius, rex est gavisus Hovellus;

Facta vindicta monte sub Hormaheva.

Ense caput secuit Grithfridus, et in mare jecit,

Soma quidem reliquum possidet hunc loculum.”

The exploits of Robert fully entitled him to Orderic’s pet Greek word. “Colvenus” must be some corrupt form of Conwy.

[368] We have seen that, in describing the rebellion of 1088, the words of the Chronicler are, “þa riceste Frencisce men þe weron innan þisan lande wolden swican heora hlaforde þam cynge.” In 1101 we read simply, “þa sona þæeræfter wurdon þa heafod men her on lande wiðerræden togeanes þam cynge.”

[369] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 308.

[370] I refer to the passage which I have already quoted in N. C. vol. v. p. 830, where William Rufus, just before his death (Ord. Vit. 782 B), mocks at the English regard for omens; “Num prosequi me ritum autumat Anglorum, qui pro sternutatione et somnio vetularum dimittunt iter suum seu negotium?”

[371] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 393.

[372] Stigand appears in the list of deaths which accompanied that of William in the Chronicle, where one would think that the persons spoken of died after him; but in the less rhetorical account of the same year in Florence they seem to have died before him. The Life of Lanfranc at the end of the Chronicles records the consecrations and benediction of all the three prelates with whom we are concerned, Geoffrey, Guy, and John, in 1088; “Cantuariæ, in sede metropoli, examinavit atque sacravit.” Cf. Gervase, X Scriptt. 1654.

[373] See Stephens’ Memorials of Chichester, p. 47.

[374] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 459.

[375] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 195 draws a curious picture of him; “Erat medicus probatissimus, non scientia sed usu, ut fama, nescio an vera, dispersit. Litteratorum contubernio gaudens, ut eorum societate aliquid sibi laudis ascisceret; salsioris tamen in obloquentes dicacitatis quam gradus ejus interesse deberet.” He had just before described him as “natione Turonicus, professione medicus, qui non minimum quæstum illo conflaverat artificio.” The local writer in the Historiola (21) calls him “vir prudens et providus.”

[376] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 417.

[377] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 411.

[378] See Appendix F.

[379] See above, p. 41.

[380] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 196. “Cessit Andreas Simoni, frater fratri, minor majori.” Yet before the west front of the church of Wells there can be no doubt who was there looked on as the very chiefest apostle.

[381] See Appendix F.

[382] See Appendix F.

[383] Will. Malms. 195. “Sepultus est in ecclesia sancti Petri, quam a fundamentis erexerat, magno et elaborato parietum ambitu.”

[384] The like usage is still more remarkable at Durham and Carlisle, churches which never had an abbot distinct from the bishop. At Carlisle the “abbey” seems to mean the monastic precinct rather than the church itself.

[385] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 409. The story is told in the Winchester Appendix to the Chronicles.

[386] Chron. Wint. App. 1089. “Post ejus [Lanfranci] obitum, monachi sancti Augustini, præfato abbati suo Widoni palam resistentes, cives Cantuariæ contra eum concitaverunt, qui illum armata manu in sua domo interimere temptaverunt. Cujus familia cum resisteret, pluribus utrimque vulneratis et quibusdam interfectis, vix abbas inter manus illorum illæsus evasit, et ad matrem ecclesiam, quærendo auxilium, Cantuariam, fugit.” This last odd expression must be owing to the fact that Saint Augustine’s stood outside the walls.

[387] Chron. Wint. App. “Coram populo subire disciplinam, quia palam peccaverant, ii qui advenerant, decreverunt; sed prior et monachi ecclesiæ Christi, pietate moti, restiterunt; ne, si palam punirentur, infames deinceps fierent, sicque eorum vita ac servitus contemneretur. Igitur concessum est ut in ecclesia fieret, ubi non populus, sed soli ad hoc electi admitterentur.”

Thierry, who of course colours the whole story after his fashion, becomes (ii. 140) not a little amusing at this point. The flogging was done by two monks of Christ Church, “Wido et Normannus.” If one stopped to think of matters of nationality at such a moment, we might admire the impartiality of the Norman bishops in entrusting the painful duty to a monk of each nation, somewhat on the principle of a mixed jury. For no one can doubt that Normannus, Northman, was as good an Englishman as Northman the son of Earl Leofwine and other English bearers of that name. Thierry, on the other hand, tells us that the whipping was done by “deux religieux étrangers, appelés Guy et Le Normand.” He seemingly mistook the Christian name “Normannus” for the modern surname “Lenormand,” and he forgot that this last could be borne only by one whose forefathers had moved from Normandy to some other French-speaking land.

[388] Chron. Wint. App.

[389] Ib. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 410.

[390] See Lanfranc, Ep. 67 (i. 80, ed. Giles); N. C. vol. iv. p. 439.

[391] Chron. Petrib. 1089. “On þisum geare se arwurða muneca feder and frouer Landfranc arcebisceop gewat of þissum life, ac we hopiað þæt he ferde to þæt heofanlice rice.”

[392] The exact date comes from his Life, 52 (i. 312, ed. Giles); “anno archiepiscopatus xix, v. calendas Junii diem clausit extremum.” The Latin Chronicler gives us the exact measure of his primacy; “In sede pontificali sedit annis decem et octo, mensibus ix. duobus diebus.” The Life gives us his epitaph, which begins;

“Hic tumulus claudit quem nulla sub orbe Latino

Gens ignoravit.”

See N. C. vol. ii. p. 636.

[393] Vita Lanfranci, 52 (i. 312, ed. Giles). “Cum immineret dies ipsius dedicationis, sicut mos est, omnia corpora de ecclesia elata fuerunt. Tunc quidam frater, sive curiositate, seu quod magis credibile est, pro reliquiis habendam de casula gloriosi Lanfranci abscidit particulam; de qua miri odoris suavitas efflagrabat. Ostendit aliis, qui et ipsi senserunt odoris fragrantiam. Qua de re intellegi datur, quod anima illius in magna suavitate requiescit; cujus corporis indumenta tanto odore redolent.”

[394] Vita Lanf. ib. “Dolor omnibus incomparabilis, et luctus inconsolabilis suis.”

[395] See the passages from William of Malmesbury quoted in Appendix G.

[396] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 14. “Cum posthac in regno fuisset confirmatus, postposita pollicitatione sua, in contraria dilapsus est. Super quo cum a Lanfranco modeste redargueretur, et ei sponsio fidei non servatæ opponeretur, furore succensus, ‘Quis,’ ait, ‘est qui cuncta quæ promittit implere possit?’ Ex hoc igitur non rectis oculis super pontificem intendere valebat, licet a nonnullis ad quæ illum voluntas sua trahebat, ipsius respectu, eo superstite, temperaverit.”

[397] See above, p. 25.

[398] Will. Malms. iv. 321. “Si quis desiderat scire corporis ejus qualitatem, noverit eum fuisse corpore quadrato, colore rufo, crine subflavo, fronte fenestrata, oculo vario, quibusdam intermicantibus guttis distincto; præcipuo robore, quamquam non magnæ staturæ, et ventre paullo projectiore. Eloquentiæ nullæ, sed titubantia linguæ notabilis, maxime cum ira succresceret.” Cf. the description of Robert, N. C. vol. iv. p. 633.

[399] So for instance Orderic (667 B); “Rex ergo Rufus indigenarum hortatu promptior surrexit,” and William of Malmesbury (iv. 306), “Quomodo adversarios rex Rufus vicerit.” So again Wace (14496);

“Por devise del nom k’il out,
Ki à son pere ressemblout,
Kar chescun Willame aveit nom,
Out li filz poiz Ros à sornom.”

Presently (14513) he is “li reis Ros.” The use of the nickname in this way was the more easy, because Rufus was a real name which had been borne by other men, while nobody had ever been called Curthose. See on the name Martel, N. C. vol. ii. p. 280; vol. v. p. 569.

I do not know that any one except Matthew Paris has turned the Red King into a Red Dragon. He does so twice. Hist. Angl. i. 97, “Rex Willelmus, qui a multis rubeus draco cognominabatur;” and again, i. 167, “Rex Willelmus, draco rubeus—sic enim eum appellabant propter tyrannidem.”

[400] M. Gaston le Hardy, the apologist of Duke Robert (Le Dernier des Ducs Normands, Caen, 1880, p. 41), refers to the Monasticon and Orderic for the statement that William Rufus was called “comes” in his father’s life-time. But I cannot find the places. Has he got hold of any signature of Earl William Fitz-Osbern?

[401] Will. Malms. iv. 305. “Emensa pueritia, in militari exercitio adolescentiam egit; equitari, jaculari, certare cum primævis obsequio, cum æquævis officio. Jacturam virtutis putare si forte in militari tumultu alter eo prior arma corriperet, et nisi primus ex adverso provocaret, vel provocantem dejiceret.”

[402] Ib. “Genitori in omnibus obsequelam gerens, ejus se oculis in bello ostentans, ejus lateri in pace obambulans. Spe sensim scaturiente, jam successioni inhians, maximum post abdicationem fratris majoris, cum et tirocinium minoris nonnihil suspiceret.”

[403] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 644.

[404] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 629.

[405] A great part of the description of Tiberius given by Tacitus (Ann. vi. 51) applies to William Rufus; only we cannot make out quite so many stages in the moral downfall of the Red King. “Egregium vita famaque quoad privatus vel in imperiis sub Augusto fuit; occultum et subdolum fingendis virtutibus donec Germanicus ac Drusus superfuere: idem inter bona malaque mixtus, incolumi matre.” These are words of almost the same meaning as some of the expressions of Eadmer and William of Malmesbury. See specially Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 14; “Confestim [after Lanfranc’s death] rex foras expressit quod in suo pectore, illo vivente, confotum habuit.” In any case we may say, “postremo in scelera simul ac dedecora prorupit, postquam, remoto pudore et metu, suo tantum ingenio utebatur.” The change in William after Lanfranc’s death is most strongly brought out by Matthew Paris, Hist. Angl. i. 38.

[406] This is well drawn out by Dean Church, Anselm, 156, 157.

[407] Ord. Vit. 680 A. “Tenacis memoriæ, et ardentis ad bonum seu malum voluntatis erat.” Nearly to the same effect are the words of the Hyde writer (299); “Erat quidem operibus levis, sed verbis, ut aiunt, in tantum stabilis ut, si cui bonum vel malum promisisset, certus inde satis exsistere posset.”

[408] See Appendix G.

[409] See Historical Essays, Second Series, p. 343.

[410] Will. Malms. iv. 312. “Erat in foris et in conventu hominum tumido vultu erectus, minaci oculo adstantem defigens, et affectato rigore feroci voce colloquentem reverberans.”

[411] Ib. “Intus et in triclinio cum privatis, omni lenitate accommodus, multa joco transigebat; facetissimus quoque de aliquo suo perperam facto cavillator, ut invidiam facti dilueret et ad sales transferret.”

[412] This tale is told by William of Malmesbury (iv. 313) in illustration of the general character of Rufus, as “homo qui nesciret cujuscumque rei effringere pretium vel æstimare commercium.” He adds, “vestium suarum pretium in immensum extolli volebat, dedignans si quis alleviasset.” In the story which follows, the King’s speech to the chamberlain is characteristically vigorous; “Indignabundus et fremens, ‘Fili,’ ait, ‘meretricis, ex quo habet rex caligas tam exilis pretii?’” We are not surprised to hear that the officer got rich in the service of such a master; “Ita cubicularius ex eo pretium vestimentorum ejus pro voluntate numerabat, multa perinde suis utilitatibus nundinatus.” So there is a story told of a rich patient who despised the cheapness of Galen’s prescriptions, and asked him to order something dearer. See Friedländer, Sittengeschichte Roms, i. 339.

[413] Take for instance Suger (Duchèsne, iv. 283); “Ille opulentus et Anglorum thesaurorum profusor, mirabilisque militum mercator et solidator.”

[414] See Appendix G.

[415] Will. Malms. iv. 313. “Cui pro libito venditor distraheret mercimonium et miles pacisceretur stipendium.” This comes in the passage quoted in the last page.

[416] Ib. “Cum primis initiis regni metu turbarum milites congregasset, nihil illis denegandum putabat, majora in futurum pollicitus. Itaque quia paternos thesauros evacuaret impigre, et modicæ ei pensiones numerabantur, jam substantia defecerat.”

[417] Ib. “Sed animus largiendi non deerat, quod usu donandi pene in naturam verterat.”

[418] See the extract from the Chronicle, below, p. 155.

[419] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 621.

[420] Will. Malms. iv. 314. “Cujuscumque conditionis homunculus, cujuscumque criminis reus, statim ut de lucro regis appellasset, audiebatur; ab ipsis latronis faucibus resolvebatur laqueus si promisisset regale commodum.”

[421] See Appendix G.

[422] We shall see some instances as we go on, specially the story told by William of Malmesbury, iv. 309.

[423] William of Malmesbury, iv. 314. “A buccis miserorum cibos abstrahentes.”

[424] See Appendix G.

[425] See N. C. vol. v. p. 159. The evil went on under Henry until the passing of this statute, as we see by the terrible complaint of the Chronicler in the year 1104; “æfre ealswa se cyng for, full hergung þurh his hired uppon his wreccea folc wæs, and þær onmang for oft bærneta and manslihtas.”

[426] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “He wæs swiðe strang and reðe ofer his land and his mænn and wið ealle his neahheburas, and swiðe ondrædendlic, and þurh yfelra manna rædas þe him æfre gecweme wæran and þurh his agene gitsunga, he æfre þas leode mid here and mid ungylde tyrwigende wæs, forþan þe on his dagan ælc riht afeoll and ælc unriht for Gode and for worulde úp aras.”

[427] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 436, 754.

[428] Will. Malms. iv. 319. “Venationes, quas rex primo indulserat, adeo prohibuit ut capitale esset supplicium prendisse cervum.” Contrast this with his father’s law in N. C. vol. iv. p. 621.

[429] The story is told by Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 48. It is brought in as an illustration of the impiety of Rufus rather than of his cruelty.

[430] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 48. “Quinquaginta circiter viri quibus adhuc illis diebus ex antiqua Anglorum ingenuitate divitiarum quædam vestigia arridere videbantur.”

[431] Ib. “Negant illi; unde statim ad judicium rapti, judicantur injectam calumniam examine igniti ferri a se propulsare debere. Statuto itaque die præfixi pœnæ judicii pariter subacti sunt, remota pietate et misericordia.” Yet, unless there was some special circumstance of hardship which is not recorded, this was only the old law of England kept on by the Conqueror. (See N. C. vol. iv. p. 624; v. pp. 400, 874.) That is, if the accuser was English, and the King’s reeves and huntsmen were largely English. If the accuser was French, the accused were entitled to a choice between the ordeal and the wager of battle. Can Eadmer mean that this choice was not allowed them?

[432] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 48. “Cum principi esset relatum condemnatos illos tertio judicii die simul omnes inustis manibus apparuisse, stomachatus taliter fertur respondisse, ‘Quid est hoc? Deus est justus judex? Pereat qui deinceps hoc crediderit. Quare per hoc et hoc meo judicio amodo respondebitur. Non Dei quod pro voto cujusque hinc inde plicatur.’”

[433] “Judicium” is the usual Domesday name. See N. C. vol. v. p. 875.

[434] Ord. Vit. 682 C. “Illi modestis vestiebantur indumentis optimeque coaptatis ad sui mensuram corporis. Et erant habiles ad equitandum et currendum et ad omne opus quod ratio suggerebat agendum.”

[435] Ib. “Olim pœnitentes et capti et peregrini usualiter intonsi erant, longasque barbas gestabant, judicioque tali pœnitentiam, seu captionem, vel peregrinationem spectantibus prætendebant.”

[436] Ib. “Post obitum Gregorii papæ et Guillelmi Nothi aliorumque principum religiosorum, in occiduis partibus pene totus abolitus est honestus patrum mos antiquorum.” Yet, unless we go as far north as the sainted Cnut of Denmark, it is not easy to find any specially devout princes who died about the same time as Gregory and William.

[437] See Appendix G.

[438] See Appendix G.

[439] Take, above all, the story of Bishop Serlo’s most practical sermon in Orderic, 815, 816. See N. C. vol. v. p. 844, and Appendix G.

[440] Ord. Vit. 682 B. “Nocte comessationibus et potationibus vanisque confabulationibus, aleis et tesseris aliisque ludicris vacabant; die vero dormiebant.”

[441] See Appendix G.

[442] See N. C. vol. v. p. 818. In some manuscripts of William of Malmesbury (iv. 317) he says distinctly, “Judæi qui Lundoniæ habitabant, quos pater a Rothomago illuc traduxerat.”

[443] The Jews meet us at every turn in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. At Lincoln and Saint Eadmundsbury they have left their works. Those of Winchester—their Jerusalem—shared in the perfection which marked all classes of men in that city (see Ric. Div. c. 82). In the genuine “Annals of an English Abbey” (Gest. Abb. i. 193) we may see something of the “superbia magna et jactantia” which the Jew Aaron (of Lincoln) displayed at Saint Alban’s.

[444] As in the great massacre at York in 1189. Or the King himself might, like John, do as he would with his own chattels.

[445] See Eadmer, Vit. Ans. iii. 5. We shall come across them again.

[446] Will. Malms. iv. 317. “Apud Londoniam contra episcopos nostros in certamen animati [Judæi], quia ille ludibundus, credo, dixisset quod, si vicissent Christianos apertis argumentationibus confutatos, in eorum sectam transiret. Magno igitur timore episcoporum et clericorum res acta est, pia sollicitudine fidei Christianæ timentium.”

[447] Ib. “De hoc quidem certamine nihil Judæi præter confusionem retulerunt, quamvis multotiens jactarint se non oratione sed factione superatos.”

[448] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. p. 47. “Ferebant … ad eum convenire, conquerentes nonnullos ex suis, spreto Judaismo, Christianos tune noviter factos fuisse, atque rogantes ut, sumpto pretio, illos, rejecto Christianismo, ad Judaismum redire compelleret. Adquiescit ille, et, suscepto pretio apostasiæ, jubet ex Judæis ipsis adduci ad se. Quid plura? Plures ex illis minis et terroribus fractos, abnegato Christo, pristinum errorem suscipere fecit.” Eadmer brings in this story, without pledging himself to its truth, as one which he, when in Italy, heard from those who came from Rouen. “Sicut illa accepimus, simpliciter ponam, non adstruens vera an secus exstiterint, an non. Ferebant igitur hi qui veniebant,” &c. It is the same story as that which William of Malmesbury tells, iv. 317; “Insolentiæ in Deum Judæi suo tempore dedere indicium; semel apud Rothomagum, ut quosdam ab errore suo refugas ad Judaismum revocarent, muneribus inflectere conati.”

[449] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. p. 47. The protomartyr pleads his own example; “Uno dierum per viam forte eunti apparuit alter juvenis, vultu et veste decorus, qui interrogatus unde vel quis esset, dixit se jam olim ex Judæo Christianum effectum, Stephanum protomartyrem esse.”

[450] Ib. “Æstuans quonam modo suis sacris filium posset restituere, didicit quemadmodum Willielmus rex Anglorum nonnullos hujusmodi, pecuniæ gratis, nuper Judaismo reddiderit.” This way of speaking might almost make us think that the Jew was not living in William’s dominions; yet the whole tenor of the story, which seems to be laid at Rouen, looks otherwise. One phrase is odd; “paternis rogat legibus imperiali sanctione restitui.” William Rufus, as we shall see, did not forget his imperial as well as his royal dignity, but Rouen was an odd place in which to show himself in the imperial character.

[451] Ib. “Tacet ille ad rogata, nondum audiens quamobrem tali negotio sese deberet medium facere.”

[452] Ib. “Advertit Judæus mysterium cur suis precibus non responderet, et e vestigio sexaginta marcas argenti se illi daturum, si Judaismo restitueret filium suum, pollicetur.” This almost looks as if the Jew thought at first that the King, out of zeal for the Hebrew cause, would do the job for him for nothing.

[453] Eadmer, u. s. “Tecum jocarer, stercoris fili? Recede potius et præceptum meum velocius imple, alioquin per vultum de Luca faciam tibi oculos erui.” On the oath, see Appendix G.

[454] Ib. “Confusus princeps in istis, contumeliis affectum juvenem cum dedecore jussit suis conspectibus eliminari.”

[455] Ib. “Fili mortis et pabulum externæ perditionis, non sufficit tibi damnatio tua, nisi et me tecum præcipites in eam? Ego vero cui jam Christus patefactus est absit ut te unquam pro patre agnoscam, quia pater tuus diabolus est.” The reference must be to St. John viii. 44; but the pedigree was a dangerous one for a presumptive grandson to meddle with.

[456] Ib. “Ecce feci quod rogasti, redde quod promisisti.”

[457] Eadmer, u. s. “Filius meus jam nunc et in Christi confessione constantior et mihi est solito factus infestior; et dicis”—mark the scriptural turn—“‘Feci quod petisti, redde quod promisisti?’ Immo quod cœpisti primo perfice, et tunc demum de pollicitis age. Sic enim convenit inter nos.”

[458] Ib. “Feci quantum potui; verum, quamvis non proficerim, minime tamen feram me sine fructu laborasse.”

[459] Ib. 54. “Quod Deus nunquam eum bonum habiturus esset pro malo quod sibi inferret.” The words are spoken to Bishop Gundulf. Eadmer comments; “In cunctis erat fortunatus, ac si verbis ejus hoc modo respondit Deus, ‘Si te pro malo, ut dicis, numquam bonum habebo, probabo an saltem pro bono possim te bonum habere, et ideo in omni quod tu bonum æstimas velle tuum adimplebo.’”

[460] Eadmer, 48. “Ad hoc quoque lapsus est ut Dei judicio incredulus fieret, injustitiæque illud arguens, Deum aut facta hominum ignorare, aut æquitatis ea lance nolle pensare adstrueret.” Then follows the story of the deer-stealers which I have told in p. 155. Mark Eadmer’s firm belief in the ordeal, which had not yet been condemned by the Church.

[461] Ib. 47. “Ferebatur eum in tantam mentis elationem corruisse ut nequaquam patienter audire valeret, si quivis ullum negotium quod vel a se vel ex suo præcepto foret agendum, poneret sub conditione voluntatis Dei fieri. Sed quæque acta simul et agenda suæ soli industriæ ac fortitudini volebat adscribi.” We have his like in Kapaneus, Æsch. Sept. c. Theb. 409;

θεοῦ τε γὰρ θέλοντος ἐκπέρσειν πόλιν
καὶ μὴ θέλοντος φησὶν, οὐδὲ τὴν Διὸς
ἔριν πέδῳ σκήψασαν ἐκποδὼν σχέθειν.

[462] Ib. “Quæ mentis elatio ita excrevit in eo ut, quemadmodum dicebatur, crederet et publica voce assereret nullum sanctorum cuiquam apud Deum posse prodesse, et ideo nec se velle, nec aliquem sapientem debere, beatum Petrum seu quemlibet alium quo se juvaret interpellare.”

[463] Joinville, p. 217 ed. Michel; “Le roy ama tant Dieu et sa douce mère que touz ceulz que il pooit atteindre qui disoient de Dieu ne de sa mère chose déshoneste ne vilein serement, que il les fesoit punir griefment.” He goes on to tell how, like Saint Wulfstan (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 386) but unlike Saint Eadward (ib. ii. p. 26), he never swore nor mentioned the devil.

[464] Giraldus (de Inst. Prin. c. iii. 11) gives a specimen of his blasphemies, and adds, “quibus ne memoriæ refricatio facinus atque blasphemiam posteris ad mentem revocet, supersedere potius quam paginam nostram commaculare dignum duximus.”

[465] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 54. “In tantum ex successibus suis profecit ut, sicut hi qui factis ejus die noctuque præsentes exstiterunt attestantur, numquam vel de lecto surgeret vel in lecto se collocaret, quin seipsum aut collocante aut surgente semper deterior esset.”

[466] See Appendix G.

[467] See Appendix G.

[468] See Appendix G.

[469] See N. C. vol. i. p. 255.

[470] See Appendix H.

[471] Twice under the same year 1091 the Chronicler adds to the record of a treaty concluded by Rufus that it “litle hwile stode.”

[472] See above, p. 143.

[473] I refer to the story of the Angevin knights at Ballon, told by Orderic (772 C, D). We shall come to it in a later chapter.

[474] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 220.

[475] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 438.

[476] This was at the siege of Padua in 1509. “Maximilien fit proposer à La Palisse de faire mettre pied à terre à sa gendarmerie pour monter à l’assaut avec les landsknechts. Mais d’après le conseil de Bayard, La Palisse répondit que la gendarmerie française était toute composée de gentilshommes, et qu’il ne serait pas convenable de la faire combattre pêle-mêle avec les fantassins allemands, qui étaient roturiers.” Sismondi, Rép. Ital. xiv. 26.

[477] The story of the massacre of Limoges, the most truly chivalrous deed ever done, is well known. It will be found in Froissart, i. 289 (vol. i. p. 401, ed. Sauvage).

[478] Hallam, who thoroughly understood Henry the Eighth, adds in a note (Const. Hist. i. 36); “After all, Henry was every whit as good a king and man as Francis I, whom there are still some, on the other side of the channel, servile enough to extol; not in the least more tyrannical and sanguinary, and of better faith towards his neighbours.” The famous letter of Francis about all being lost except honour is now disbelieved, but it is characteristic all the same. I have said something about this in the Fortnightly Review, December, 1876.

It is singular enough that in 1546 some reader of the “Normanniæ Nova Chronica,” after the entries about the misdeeds of William Rufus in 1098, bursts out (p. 9) into a fierce invective against the vices and oppressions of Francis the First, as far surpassing those of Rufus. If men murmured in 1098, how much more reason had they to murmur in 1546.

[479] There is nothing special to note as to the authorities for this chapter, except that we now begin to make some little use of the Lives of the Bishops of Le Mans in Mabillon’s Vetera Analecta, of which we shall have to make much larger use in a later chapter.

Since this chapter was written and partly printed, I have come across a book called “Le Dernier des Ducs Normands. Étude de Critique Historique sur Robert Courte-Heuse; par Gaston le Hardy (Caen, 1880).” It is a gallant apology for Duke Robert, who however, it seems, cannot be set up without a cruel setting down both of Orderic and of King Henry. M. le Hardy believes in the false Ingulf and seems to be an enemy to Italian freedom. He has worked with care at his authorities, and I have to thank him for a few references; but his style of criticism is odd. In p. 47 he argues against the last speech of the Conqueror in Orderic—a speech very open to argument against it on other grounds—because William is there made to confess that he had no right to the English crown. This at least cannot be. “Comment croire que le Conquérant, dont les droits légitimes à la couronne d’Angleterre étaient au moins fondés sur des apparences très-respectables, puisqu’elles décidèrent le Pape à se prononcer en sa faveur, se soit appliqué à les désavouer, et à démentir ainsi toute sa vie.” I think more highly both of the intellect and of the conscience of William the Great. I can conceive his being led to repent of his sins, even though the Pope told him that they were no sins. M. le Hardy, like so many of his countrymen, seems unable to understand any English matter, and he seems never to have looked at any English or German book.

I let my estimate of Robert stay where it was. His character is best summed up in the portrait drawn by William of Malmesbury at the end of his fourth book;

“Patria lingua facundus ut sit jocundior nullus; in aliis consiliosus ut nihil excellentius; militiæ peritus ut si quis unquam; pro mollitie tamen animi nunquam regendæ reipublicæ idoneus judicatus.”

I think I have throughout done justice to Robert’s military skill—it was more than mere daring—and to his gifts as a counsellor of others.

[480] Chron. Petrib. 1089. “Swilc eac gewarð ofer eall Engleland mycel eorðstyrunge, on þone dæg iii. Id. Aug.” Will. Malms. iv. 322. “Secundo anno regni ejus terræ motus ingens totam Angliam exterruit tertio idus Augusti, horrendo miraculo, ut ædificia omnia eminus resilirent, et mox pristino more residerent.” Some annals, as those of Plympton (Liebermann, 26), directly connect the events. “Obiit Lanfrancus archiepiscopus, et terra mota est.”

[481] Chron. u. s. “And wæs swiðe lætsum gear on corne and on ælces cynnes wæstmum, swa þæt manig man ræpon heora corn onbuton Martines mæssan and gyt lator.” “Vix ad festum sancti Andreæ,” says William of Malmesbury.

[482] Chron. Petrib. 1090. “And betwyx þisum þingum þis land wæs swiðe fordón on unlaga gelde and on oðre manige ungelimpe.”

[483] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 558, 638.

[484] Ib. p. 493.

[485] Ord. Vit. 708 B. He does not say distinctly at what stage he means. Geoffrey Gaimar (Chron. Angl. Norm. i. 35) has an elaborate picture of Robert at his greatest;

“Li quens Robert, cil de Belesme,
Mil chevalers out en son esme;
En Engleterre out treis contez,
Quens de Pontif estait clamez,
Si ert conte de Leneimeis,
D’Esparlon e de Sessuneis;
Sue estait Argenton, Seis,
Roche-Mabilie estait en sa pœs.
En Rom out rues assez.
Il esteit quen de sis contez;
Ço ert le meillur chevaler
Ke l’em séust pur querreier.
Cil vint à son seignur le rei,
Mil chevalers menat od sei.”

He then goes on to mention his brothers. (See above, p. 37.) Many of the places on this list will come in our story. “Rom,” it is hardly needful to say, is only the capital of Normandy, not of the world. But what are the three counties in England? There is Shropshire, and most likely Sussex. What is the third? Yorkshire, on the strength of Tickhill? But Robert had no earldom there.

[486] Ord. Vit. 675 D.

[487] Hen. Hunt. De Cont. Mund. 11. “Gens ipsis dæmonibus horrenda.”

[488] See N. C. vol. i. p. 468. The Archdeacon of Huntingdon himself, with a slight contempt of sex and species, calls him “Pluto, Megæra, Cerberus, vel si aliquid horrendi scribi potest.” He speaks of the proverb, “Mirabilia Roberti de Belesme.”

[489] See his two pictures in Orderic, 675 C, D, and 707 C, D. In his character of engineer we shall meet him at Gisors. See 766 B.

[490] Ord. Vit. 707 D. “Magis affectabat supplicia miseris inferre quam per redemptionem captivorum pecunias augere.” So Hen. Hunt. u. s. Yet, as some of his captives escaped, he lost the ransom for nothing.

[491] Ib. “Homines privatione oculorum et amputatione pedum manuumve deformare parvipendebat, sed inauditorum commeditatione suppliciorum in torquendis miseris more Siculi Phalaris tripudiabat. Quos in carcere pro reatu aliquo stringebat, Nerone seu Decio vel Diocletiano sævior, indicibiliter cruciabat, et inde jocos cum parasitis suis et cachinnos jactabundus exercebat. Tormentorum quæ vinctis inferebat delectatione gloriabatur, hominumque detractione pro pœnarum nimietate crudelis lætabatur.” The special detail of the impaling comes from Henry of Huntingdon, who says also, “Erat ei cædes horribilis hominum cibus jucundus animæ.”

[492] Will. Malms. v. 398. “Simulationis et argutiarum plenus, frontis sereno et sermonum affabilitate credulos decipiens, gnaros autem malitiæ exterritans, ut nullum esset majus futuræ calamitatis indicium quam prætensæ affabilitatis eloquium.” Something of the same kind was said of King Henry himself. See N. C. vol. v. p. 841.

[493] Ord. Vit. 708 B. She at last escaped to Countess Adela at Chartres, and got to her own land of Ponthieu.

[494] The story is told with the difference spoken of in the text by Henry of Huntingdon (de Cont. Mundi, 11) and by William of Malmesbury (v. 398). Henry says only, “Filioli sui oculos sub chlamide positi quasi ludens pollicibus extraxit.” William supplies a kind of motive; “Puerulum ex baptismo filiolum, quem in obsidatum acceperat, pro modico delicto patris excæcarit, lumina miselli unguibus nefandis abrumpens.” That is, the Archdeacon makes the ugly story still uglier, just as in the case of the children of Juliana. See N. C. vol. v. pp. 157, 841.

[495] Ord. Vit. 708 A. “Ob insolentiam et cupiditatem plurima contra collimitaneos prælia cœpit; sed sæpe victus cum damno et dedecore aufugit.”

[496] See further on in this chapter.

[497] Ord. Vit. 675 D.

[498] See Ord. Vit. 707 D for the Bishop; ib. 678 A and Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 127 for the Abbot. With the bishopric there was a question of the right of advowson; “Episcopium contra jus et fas comprimebat, et Guillelmo Belesmensi avo ejus a Ricardo duce datum asserebat.” Cf. on the bishopric of Le Mans, N. C. vol. iii. p. 194. From the Abbot too he demanded an oath of allegiance, “de sacramento et homagio abbatem exagitare.” This was in Henry’s time.

[499] Ord. Vit. 668 C. “Robertus Belesmensis qui patri tuo fuit valde dilectus, et multis honoribus olim ab ipso promotus.” See above, p. 84.

[500] Hen. Hunt. u. s. “Quem tantopere fama coluerat dum viveret, in carcere utrum viveret vel obisset, nescivit, diemque mortis ejus obmutescens ignoravit.”

[501] Will. Malms. v. 407. “Homo antiquæ simplicitatis et fidei, qui crebro a Willelmo primo invitatus ut Angliam veniret, largis ad voluntatem possessionibus munerandus, supersedit, pronuncians patrum suorum hæreditatem se velle fovere, non transmarinas et indebitas possessiones vel appetere vel invadere.” (Cf. N. C. vol. iv. p. 448.) We have heard of him already; N. C. vol. ii. p. 201; iii. 288, 380, 386; iv. 82, 192, 475, 645.

[502] See the story in p. 186.

[503] Will. Malms. u. s.; Will. Pict. 134; Will. Gem. vii. 4; Ord. Vit. 709 A.

[504] This Norman Beaumont must be distinguished from the French and Cenomannian Beaumonts which we shall meet with, just as there is a Norman, a French, and a Cenomannian Montfort.

[505] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 487.

[506] Will. Malms. v. 407. “Cum superiorum regum tempore, spe sensim pullulante, in gloriam procederet, hujus [Henrici] ætate summo provectu effloruit, habebaturque ejus consilium quasi quis divinum consuluisset sacrarium.” So Hen. Hunt. de Cont. Mund. 7. “Fuit Robertus consul de Mellend in rebus secularibus sapientissimus omnium hinc usque in Jerusalem degentium.”

[507] We shall see this presently in the story of Helias. See Ord. Vit. 773 B.

[508] See N. C. vol. v. p. 828.

[509] Hen. Hunt. u. s. “Fuit scientia clarus, eloquio blandus, astutia perspicax, providentia sagax, ingenio versipellis, prudentia insuperabilis, consilio profundus, sapientia magnus.” A goodly string of synonyms. William of Malmesbury (u. s.) gives more details. He was “suasor concordiæ, dissuasor discordiæ,” “in placitis propugnator justitiæ, in guerris provisor victoriæ, dominum regem ad severitatem legum custodiendam exacuens, ipse non eas sequens sed proponens, expers in regem perfidiæ, in ceteros ejus persecutor.” He was “ingentis in Anglia momenti, ut inveteratum vestiendi vel comedendi exemplo suo inverteret morem.” He brought in the “consuetudo semel prandendi,” contrary to the custom of Harthacnut.

[510] We shall see him in both characters as we go on. See Appendix Y. He stood firmly by the King in the matter of investiture. See Will. Malms. v. 417.

[511] Will. Malms. v. 406. This was when Pope Calixtus came into Normandy in 1110. See N. C. vol. v. p. 191.

[512] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 197, 207, 288.

[513] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 192.

[514] I do not quite understand the story in Henry of Huntingdon (8) about another earl depriving Robert of his wife or bride; “Contigit quemdam alium consulem sponsam ei tam factione quam dolosis viribus arripuisse. Unde in senectute sua mente turbatus et angaria obnubilatus, in tenebras mœroris incidit, nec usque ad mortem se lætum vel hilarem sensit.” Earl Robert’s widow, Elizabeth or Isabel of Crépy or Vermandois, was presently married again to the younger Earl William of Warren. (See Ord. Vit. 686 B, 723 D, 805 D; Will. Gem. viii. 40, 41.) Was there anything irregular or scandalous about the marriage? Count Robert married her in 1096, so that, as he was distinctly old at his death in 1118, she must have been far from young. His children therefore were children of his advanced life, which lessens the difficulty about the child whom his daughter Isabel is said to have borne to King Henry late in his reign. (Will. Gem. viii. 29; cf. 37; and see N. C. vol. v. p. 844.)

[515] Hen. Hunt. u. s. “Ut terras quas vi vel arte multis abstulerat, pœnitens redderet, et erratum lacrimis lavaret.” Would this extend to English grants from the Conqueror? One might almost suspect that his father thought so.

[516] Ib. “Filiis omnia tradam; ipsi pro salute defuncti misericorditer agant.”

[517] Ib. “Filii ejus magis injuste congregata injuste studuerunt augere quam aliquid pro salute paterna distribuere.”

[518] Ord. Vit. 659 B. “Indubitanter scio quod vere misera erit regio quæ subjecta fuerit ejus dominio. Superbus enim est et insipiens nebulo, trucique diu plectendus infortunio.” See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 705, 854. The words must of course take their share of the doubts which can hardly fail to attach to the long speech of which they form a part; but they are more likely than most parts of it to have been preserved by a trustworthy tradition. On the speech see Church, Anselm, 147.

[519] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 191.

[520] There is more than one passage in Orderic setting forth the wretched state of things in Normandy under Robert. See 664 B; 672 B, C; 675 A, B; 677 B. In the first passage he gives a personal description, not unlike that quoted in N. C. vol. iv. p. 633; “Omnes ducem Robertum mollem esse desidemque cognoscebant, et idcirco facinorosi eum despiciebant et pro libitu suo dolosas factiones agitabant. Erat quippe idem dux audax et validus, multaque laude dignus, eloquio facundus, sed in regimine sui suorumque inconsideratus, in erogando prodigus, in promittendo diffusus, ad mentiendum levis et incautus, misericors supplicibus, ad justitiam super iniquo faciendam mollis et mansuetus, in definitione mutabilis, in conversatione omnibus nimis blandus et tractabilis, ideoque perversis et insipientibus despicabilis. Corpore autem brevis et grossus, ideoque Brevis-ocrea a patre est cognominatus.” Cf. Roman de Rou, 14470.

The words about Robert’s tendency to falsehood would seem to imply, not so much deliberate lying as that kind of carelessness of truth which is quite of a piece with the rest of his character.

On the technical use of the word justice, see N. C. vol. v. pp. 157, 253, 320, 520; cf. ii. 33, 40, 173.

[521] Ord. Vit. 672 B. “Provincia tota erat dissoluta, et prædones catervatim discurrebant per vicos et per rura, nimiumque super inermes debacchabatur latrunculorum caterva. Robertus dux nullam super malefactores exercebat disciplinam, et grassatores per octo annos sub molli principe super imbecillem populum suam agitabant furiam.” Perhaps the most striking character of Robert is that which is given of him by one who had studied him in two parts of the world, Ralph of Caen in his Gesta Tancredi, c. xv. (Muratori, v. 291). The virtues of Robert were “pietas”—in the sense of pity—and “largitas.” But he carried both virtues so far that they became vices. “Pietas largitasque valde fuissent mirabiles; sed quia in neutra modum tenuit, in utraque erravit.” He goes on to describe Robert at greater length; “Siquidem misericordiam ejus immisericordem sensit Normannia, dum eo consule per impunitatem rapinarum nec homini parceret nec Deo licentia raptorum. Nam sicariis manibus, latronum gutturi, mœchorum caudæ salaci, eamdem quam suis se reverentiam debere consul arbitrabatur. Quapropter nullus ad eum vinctus in lacrimis trahebatur, quin solutus mutuas ab eo lacrimas continuo impetraret. Ideo, ut dixi, nullis sceleribus frænum, immo omnibus additum calcar ea tempestate Normannia querebatur.” Of Robert’s bounty he goes on to say that he would give any sum for a hawk or a dog; “Hujus autem pietatis sororculam eam fuisse patet largitatem, quæ accipitrem, sive canem argenti summa quantalibet comparabat.”

[522] Orderic is plain-spoken enough on this head in 672 B.

[523] Ib. “Episcopi ex auctoritate Dei exleges anathematizabant. Theologi prolatis sermonibus Dei reos admonebant. Sed his omnibus tumor et cupiditas cum satellitibus suis immoderate resistebant.”

[524] See N. C. vol. v. 46. Cf. vol. iv. p. 688.

[525] Orderic (664 B) records Robert’s doings at Alençon and Bellême, and adds, “Hoc quoque fecit Bellismæ, et omnibus aliis castellis suis, et non solum suis, sed et in vicinorum suorum, quos sibi pares dedignabatur habere, municipiis, quæ aut intromissis clientibus sibi subjugavit, aut penitus, ne sibi aliquando resistere possent, destruxit.”

[526] Ib. He adds a reflexion in his character of “Angligena.” “Sic proceres Neustriæ de munitionibus suis omnes regis custodes expulerunt, patriamque divitiis opulentam propriis viribus vicissim exspoliaverunt. Opes itaque quas Anglis aliisque gentibus violenter rapuerunt, merito latrociniis et rapinis perdiderunt.”

[527] Ord. Vit. 672 C. “Adulterina passim municipia condebantur, et ibidem filii latronum ceu catuli luporum ad dilacerandas bidentes nutriebantur.” Our Chronicler was yet more vigorous when he peopled the castles with devils and evil men, A. D. 1135. The “adulterina municipia” are the castles built without the Duke’s licence. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 193. For the German laws on the same subject, see Maurer, Einleitung, p. 24. M. le Hardy (60) amusingly mistakes the “municipia” for “quelques communes.”

[528] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 537, 638.

[529] Ord. Vit. 664 C. “Guillelmo de Britolio dedit Ibericum, ubi arx quam Albereda proavia ejus fecit fortissima est. Et Rogerio de Bellomonte, qui solebat Ibericum jussu Guillelmi regis custodire, concessit Brioniam, quod oppidum munitissimum et in corde terræ situm est.” On Ivry, see N. C. vol. i. p. 258. See Will. Gem. viii. 15, where the same story is told as by Orderic. On Brionne, see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 196, 268, 624.

[530] Ord. Vit. 664 C. “Cunctis placere studebat, cunctisque quod petebant aut dabat aut promittebat vel concedebat. Prodigus dominium patrum suorum quotidie imminuebat, insipienter tribuens unicuique quod petebat, et ipse pauperescebat, unde alios contra se roborabat.”

[531] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 709.

[532] The passages from Orderic which set forth Henry as the heir of his mother have been discussed in N. C. vol. iv. p. 854 (cf. pp. 320, 629), as also the expression of William of Malmesbury (v. 392) which implies that the Conqueror bequeathed Matilda’s lands to Henry, or directed that Matilda’s earlier bequest should take effect. The same writer also just before speaks (v. 391) of Henry, after his father’s death, as “paterna benedictione et materna hæreditate simul et multiplicibus thesauris [“gersuman unateallendlice” in the Chronicle] nixus.” Wace also says (14484),

“E Henris out des déniers asez
Ke sis peres li out donez,
Partie out del tresor son pere
E grant partie out de sa mere.”

[533] Ord. Vit. 665 C. “Opes quas habebat militibus ubertim distribuit, et tironum multitudinem pro spe et cupidine munerum sibi connexuit. Deficiente ærario Henricum fratrem suum, ut de thesauro sibi daret, requisivit. Quod ille omnino facere noluit.”

[534] N. C. vol. i. p. 170.

[535] Ib. vol. i. p. 191.

[536] Ib. vol. ii. p. 249.

[537] The purchase is thus described by Orderic (ib.); “Henricus duci tria millia librarum argenti erogavit, et ab eo totum Constantinum pagum, quæ tertia Normanniæ pars est, recepit. Sic Henricus Abrincas et Constantiam, Montemque sancti Michaëlis in periculo maris, totumque fundum Hugonis Cestrensis consulis, quod in Neustria possidebat, primitus obtinuit.” This of course does not mean any disseisin of Earl Hugh, but only the transfer of his homage from Robert to Henry. For other versions of the transaction, see Appendix I.

[538] See N. C. vol. i. p. 302.

[539] Ord. Vit. 665 C. “Constantiniensem provinciam bene gubernavit, suamque juventutem laudabiliter exercuit.” He was hardly twenty years old. So 689 C; “Constantinienses Henricus clito strenue regebat.”

[540] He is “Henricus clito [Ætheling], Constantiniensis comes” in Orderic, 672 D; “comes Henricus” in Will. Gem. viii. 3.

[541] Ord. Vit. 672 D. “In Angliam transfretavit et a fratre suo terram matris suæ requisivit.” The date is fixed by the words “postquam certus rumor de Rofensis [oppidi] deditione citra mare personuit.”

[542] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 164, 759.

[543] Ord. Vit. 672 D. “Rex Guillelmus benigniter eum, ut decuit fratrem, suscepit, et quod poterat fraterne concessit. Deinde, peractis pro quibus ierat, in autumno regi valefecit.” An actual possession of something seems implied in the words of Orderic, 689 C, “Regi Angliæ hostis erat pro terra matris suæ, qua rex eumdem in Anglia dissaisiverat, et Roberto Haimonis filio dederat.”

[544] See Appendix GG.

[545] See N. C. vol. v. p. 853; Ord. Vit. 681 A.

[546] This flight is Orderic’s own. In 673 A we have, “Baiocensis Odo, velut ignivolus draco projectus in terram.”

[547] Ib. 672 D, “Baiocensis tyrannus;” 673 A, “pessimus præsul Odo.” This last phrase comes at the beginning of Odo’s speech in the Duke’s council; at the end of it our historian has waxed milder, and tells us (674 A) how “exhortatoriam antistitis allocutionem omnes qui aderant laudaverunt.”

[548] Ord. Vit. 673 A. “Variis seditionibus commovebat Normanniam, ut sic de aliquo modo nepoti suo, a quo turpiter expulsus fuerat, machinaretur injuriam.”

[549] Orderic here (672 D) speaks only of “quidam malevoli discordiæ satores … falsa veris immiscentes.” But surely the Bishop was at their head.

[550] I think we may accept this circumstantial account of Orderic. For other versions, see Appendix I.

[551] Ord. Vit. 672 D. “Rogerius comes Scrobesburiæ, ut Robertum filium suum captum audivit, accepta a rege licentia, festinus in Neustriam venit, et omnia castella sua militari manu contra ducem munivit.”

[552] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 297.

[553] Ord. Vit. 673 A. “Ipsum nempe dux multum metuebat, et quibusdam consiliis ejus adquiescebat, quædam vero flocci pendebat.”

[554] At least there were others besides the Duke to hear and to cheer. See p. 198, note 4.

[555] Ord. Vit. 673 B. “Reminiscere patrum et proavorum, quorum magnanimitatem et virtutem pertimuit bellicosa gens Francorum.” It is curious to see how often Norman patriotism falls back on the memory of the wars with France rather than on the conquest of England. So it is in the speech of Walter of Espec before the battle of the Standard. See N. C. vol. v. p. 832.

[556] Ib. 673 D. “Hoc nimirum horrenda mors eorum attestatur, quorum nullus communi et usitato fine, ut cæteri homines, defecisse invenitur.”

[557] See Ord. Vit. 708 B.

[558] See above, p. 193.

[559] The only entry which the Chronicler has on Rufus’ wars in Maine is the short one in 1099 (more was said about the expedition of the elder William in 1063), but some parts of the Norman war are given in great detail.

[560] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 543–563, 652–655.

[561] Ib. vol. iii. pp. 182–215.

[562] Ib. vol. iv. pp. 483, 557, 827.

[563] Ib. vol. iv. p. 652.

[564] Ib. vol. iv. pp. 635, 657.

[565] N. C. vol. iv. p. 563.

[566] Ord. Vit. 673 C. “Normannorum dux et Cœnomannorum princeps nomine tenus multis annis factus est.”

[567] Ord. Vit. 531 A. “Cœnomanis, a canina rabie dicta, urbs est antiqua, et plebs ejus finitimis procax et sanguinolenta, dominisque suis semper contumax et rebellionis avida.” Following the diphthongal spelling of the text, one might rather be tempted to derive the name from the commune or κοινόν set up by its men.

[568] N. C. vol. iii. pp. 167, 203, 209–212.

[569] Ib. iv. 546–555.

[570] Ib. vol. iii. p. 197.

[571] Ib. vol. iv. pp. 545, 560, 563.

[572] Mabillon, Vet. An. 288. “Favore totius cleri ejusdem ecclesiæ decanum statuerat; in quo gradu tanto amore totius populi erga se illexit affectum, ut eo jam tempore non minorem quam episcopo omnes illi reverentiam exhiberent…. Unde factum est, ut post decessum memorati antistitis in electionem ipsius omnes unanimiter convenirent, ipsumque episcopatu dignissimum voce consona proclamarent.”

[573] Ord. Vit. 531 B. “‘Ecce in capella tua est quidam pauper clericus, sed nobilis et bene morigeratus. Huic præsulatum commenda in Dei timore, quia dignus est (ut æstimo) tali honore.’ Regi autem percunctanti quis esset, Samson respondit: ‘Hoëlus dicitur, et est genere Brito; sed humilis est, et revera bonus homo.’” On Samson himself, see N. C. vol. iv. p. 641.

[574] N. C. vol. iv. p. 478.

[575] Ord. Vit. 531 C. “Ei curam et seculare jus Cœnomanensis episcopatus commisit” I have elsewhere spoken of this kind of document in England (N. C. vol. ii. p. 588). Only it would seem that in England the King either acted wholly of himself or else confirmed an election already made by the Chapter. Here the Chapter, as in later times, elects on the King’s recommendation.

[576] Ib. “Decretum regis clero insinuatum est, et præfati clerici bonæ vitæ testimonium ab his qui noverunt ventilatum est. Pro tam pura et simplici electione devota laus a fidelibus Deo reddita est, et electus pastor ad caulas ovium suarum ab episcopis et reliquis fidelibus, quibus hoc a rege jussum fuerat, honorifice perductus est.” The regale, or rather ducale, comes out strongly in these matters, as it always does in Normandy.

[577] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 194.

[578] Vet. An. 290. “Celeberrimum est enim Cenomannensis ecclesiæ præsulem post Turonensem archiepiscopum totius Turonensis diœceseos obtinere primatum.” Diœcesis here stands for province, as parochia constantly stands for diocese.

[579] Vet. An. 288. “Quia propter contentionem quæ inter Vvillum regem Anglorum, et Fulconem Andegavorum comitem de eodem episcopatu exorta erat, Radulfus Turonorum archiepiscopus Turonis eum ordinare non potuit, ipsius assensu atque præcepto omniumque suffraganeorum ejus, cum magno honore ordinatus est in Rotomago civitate, a domno Willelmo ejusdem urbis archiepiscopo xi. Kalend. Maii, anno ab Incarnatione Domini millesimo lxxxv.”

[580] See Appendix MM.

[581] Vet. An. 290. “Cum fames populum oppressisset, essetque impossibile unius copiis generalem afflictorum indigentiam sustentari, ex communi cleri plebisque consilio, aurum et argentum quod erat in tabula altaris sanctorum martyrum Gervasii et Protasii pius temerator accepit; illudque fideli dispensatione pauperibus erogavit.” Compare the action of Abbot Leofric of Saint Alban’s, and the “prædictæ rationes” which led him so to act, together with the argument of Matthew Paris with regard to its lawfulness; Gest. Abb. i. 29, 30.

[582] See N. C. vol. iii. pp. 159, 465.

[583] Ib. vol. iv. p. 659.

[584] See Appendix KK.

[585] Ord. Vit. 674 B. “Paganus de Monte Dublabelis, cum aliis contumacibus castrum Balaonem tenebat et venienti duci cum turmis suis acriter resistebat.”

[586] N. C. vol. iii. p. 122.

[587] Ord. Vit. 674 B. “Post plurima damna utriusque partis, Balaonenses pacem cum duce fecerunt.”

[588] Ord. Vit. 674 D. “Habitatoribus hujus municipii quies et pax pene semper defuit, finitimique Cenomannenses, seu Normanni insistunt. Scopulosum montem anfractus Sartæ fluminis ex tribus partibus ambit, in quo sanctus Cerenicus venerandus confessor tempore Milehardi Sagiorum pontificis habitavit.”

[589] In local belief, Saint Cenery on his own ground seems to have supplanted the Archangel himself as the weigher of souls.

[590] On surnames of places, see N. C. vol. v. p. 573.

[591] Ib. vol. ii. p. 233.

[592] Ord. Vit. 674 D. “Carolo Simplice regnante, dum Hastingus Danus cum gentilium phalange Neustriam depopulatus est, sanctum corpus a fidelibus in castrum Theodorici translatum est et dispersis monachis monasterium destructum.” Yet at a later time (see Ord. Vit. 706 D) Saint Cenery still possessed an arm of the eponymous saint, though monks of Seez, not of Saint Cenery, were its keepers; and there is still a bone or fragment of a bone under the high altar of the parish church which claims to be a relic of him.

[593] Ib. “Sanguinarii prædones ibi speluncam latronum condiderunt,” “scelesti habitatores,” &c.

[594] Unless Orderic’s words just quoted are mere rhetoric, we must infer that the site of the castle, and not the site of the present church, had been the site of the forsaken monastery. Well suited as the whole peninsula was for the purposes of a castle, the actual isthmus, where three small knolls rise above the general level of the hill, must have been the most tempting spot of all. On two of the knolls remains of its masonry are still to be seen, and the outworks reach far down the hill on its western side. The place seems to have been a simple fortress, with no town or village, beyond such houses as may have grown up around the castle.

[595] Orderic tells the story, 674 C.

[596] See the extract in the last page.

[597] N. C. vol. iv. p. 184.

[598] N. C. vol. iii. p. 169.

[599] Ord. Vit. 674 D. “Ibi familia Roberti Belesmensis erat, cui Robertus Quadrellus, acerrimus miles et multo vigore conspicuus, præerat, qui hortatu Rogerii comitis obsidentibus fortiter obstabat.” The modern form of “Quadrellus” would be “Carrel.” “Fulcherius Quarel” appears among the knights of Perche bearing harness under Philip Augustus; Duchèsne, p. 1032.

[600] Ord. Vit. 674 D. “Præfatus municeps jussu irati ducis protinus oculis privatus est. Aliis quoque pluribus qui contumaciter ibidem restiterant principi Normanniæ [this almost sounds like the wording of an indictment] debilitatio membrorum inflicta est ex sententia curiæ.”

[601] N. C. vol. i. pp. 445, 476.

[602] This is told by Orderic, 674 D. He adds, “Ille fere xxxvi annis postmodum tenuit, muris et vallis zetisque munivit, et moriens Guillermo et Roberto filiis suis dereliquit.” Yet he lost it for a season to the old enemy. See 706 D.

[603] Ord. Vit. 675 A. “Municipes Alencionis et Bellesmi aliarumque munitionum, ut audierunt quam male contigerit Roberto Quadrello et complicibus qui cum eo fuerant, valde territi sunt, et ut debitas venienti duci munitiones redderent, consilium inierunt.” But the words which immediately follow are; “Verum Robertus ab incœpta virtute cito defecit, et mollitie suadente ad tectum et quietem avide recurrit, exercitumque suum, ut quisque ad sua repedaret, dimisit.” This leaves it not quite clear, whether he stayed to receive in person the surrenders which were ready for him.

[604] The site of the true castle of Bellême may easily be distinguished from the later fortress. The native home of Mabel stands quite apart from the hill on which the town and the later castle stand, being cut off from it by art. The chapel is but little altered, and has a crypt, the way down to which reminds one of Saint Zeno and other Italian churches.

[605] See note 1, last page.

[606] Ord. Vit. 675 A. “Per dicaces legatos a duce pacem filiique sui absolutionem postulans, multa falso pollicitus est.” Robert, he adds, “qui improvidus erat et instabilis, ad lapsum facilis, ad tenendum justitiæ rigorem mollis, ex insperato frivolis pactionibus infidorum adquievit.” It is now that Orderic gives us his full picture of Robert of Bellême and his doings.

[607] Ord. Vit. 675 B. “Liberatus intumuit, jussa ducis atque minas minus appretiavit, præsentisque memor injuriæ diutinam multiplicemque vindictam exercuit.”

[608] Ib. 681 D. “Tunc Edgarus Adelinus, et Robertus Bellesmensis, atque Guillelmus de Archis monachus Molismensis præcipui ducis consiliarii erant”—an oddly assorted company. This is in 1090.

[609] Ib. 677 A. “Optimatum suorum supplicationibus adquiescens, Henricum fratrem suum concessit, et a vinculis in quibus cum Roberto Belesmensi constrictus fuerat absolvit.”

[610] Ib. 689 C. “Constantienses Henricus clito strenue regebat, rigidusque contra fratres suos persistebat. Nam contra ducem inimicitias agitabat pro injusta captione quam nudiustertius, ut prædictum est, ab illo perpessus fuerat. Regi nihilominus Angliæ hostis erat pro terra matris suæ.”

[611] Ord. Vit. 689 C. “Oppida sua constanter firmabat, et fautores sibi de proceribus patris sui plurimos callide conciliabat. Abrincas et Cæsarisburgum et Constantiam atque Guabreium, aliasque munitiones possidebat, et Hugonem comitem et Ricardum de Radveriis, aliosque Constantinienses, præter Robertum de Molbraio, secum habuit, et collectis undique viribus prece pretioque quotidie crescebat.”

[612] Ord. Vit. 680 B. “Turmas optimatum adscivit, et Guentoniæ congregatis quæ intrinsecus ruminabat sic ore deprompsit.” The Chronicler tells us, under 1090, how “se cyng wæs smægende hu he mihte wrecon his broðer Rodbeard swiðost swencean, and Normandige of him gewinnan.” The custom of holding the Easter Gemót at Winchester seems to fix this assembly to Easter. 1090.

The continuance of the three yearly assemblies is well marked by William of Malmesbury in the Life of Wulfstan (Ang. Sac. iii. 257); “Rex Willelmus consuetudinem induxerat [that is, he went on with what had been done T. R. E.], quam successores aliquamdiu tritam consenescere permisere. Ea erat, ut ter in anno cuncti optimates ad curiam convenirent, de necessariis regni tractaturi, simulque visuri regis insigne, quomodo iret gemmato fastigiatus diademate.”

[613] Ord. Vit. 680 C. “Commoneo vos omnes qui patris mei homines fuistis et feudos vestros in Normannia et Anglia de illo tenuistis, ut sine dolo ad probitatis opus mihi viriliter unanimiter faveatis.”

[614] Ib. “Colligite, quæso, concilium, prudenter inite consilium, sententiam proferte, quid in hoc agendum sit discrimine. Mittam, si laudatis, exercitum in Normanniam, et injuriis quas mihi frater meus sine causa machinatus est talionem rependam. Ecclesiæ Dei subveniam, viduas et orphanos inermes protegam, fures et sicarios gladio justitiæ puniam.”

[615] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 93, 95.

[616] Ord. Vit. 680 C. “His dictis omnes assensum dederunt et magnanimitatem regis collaudaverunt.”

[617] See above, p. 60.

[618] See above, p. 177.

[619] Plutarch, Reg. et Imp. Apoph. Philip. 15.

[620] Æsch. Pers. 861;

ὅσσας δ’ εἷλε πόλεις, πόρον οὐ διαβὰς Ἄλυος ποταμοῖο,
οὐδ’ ἀφ’ ἑστίας συθείς.

[621] Chron. Petrib. 1090. “Ðeah þurh his geapscipe, oððe þurh gærsuma he begeat þone castel aet S[~c]e Waleri and þa hæfenan, and swa he begeat þone æt Albemare.” This is followed by William of Malmesbury, iv. 307, who translates the passage, “Castrum Sancti Walerici, et portum vicinum. et oppidum quod Albamarla vocatur, sollertia sua acquisivit, pecunia custodes corrumpens.” Florence however calls it “castellum Walteri de Sancto Walarico.” This might be understood of any castle belonging to Walter of Saint Valery; and the change might be taken either as having the force of a correction or as showing that Florence did not understand what he found in the Chronicles. I do not find any mention of the taking of Saint Valery, or of any possession of Walter of Saint Valery, anywhere except in the English writers. Walter, who is more than once mentioned by Orderic (724 B, 729 D) as a crusader, was of the house of the Advocates of Saint Valery of whom I have spoken elsewhere (N. C. vol. iii. pp. 131, 393).

[622] N. C. vol. iv. pp. 557, 643.

[623] Ib. vol. iii. p. 157.

[624] Ib. vol. ii. p. 632.

[625] Ord. Vit. 681 A. “Primus Normannorum Stephanus de Albamarla filius Odonis Campaniæ comitis regi adhæsit, et regiis sumptibus castellum suum super Aucium flumen vehementer munivit, in quo validissimam regis familiam contra ducem suscepit.” Florence calls it “castellum Odonis de Albamarno.”

[626] Chron. Petrib. 1090. “And þarinne he sette his cnihtas, and hi dydon hearmes uppon þam lande on hergunge and on bærnete.”

[627] N. C. vol. iii. p. 153; vol. iv. p. 280.

[628] Ib. vol. iii. p. 226.

[629] Ib. vol. iii. p. 93.

[630] Domesday, 18. “Rex W. dedit comiti [de Ow] castellariam de Hastinges.”

[631] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 152.

[632] See above, p. 59.

[633] N. C. vol. iv. p. 733; vol. v. p. 560.

[634] As Barrow Gurney in Somerset.

[635] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 121.

[636] Ord. Vit. 681 A. “Gornacum et Firmitatem et Goisleni fontem, aliasque munitiones suas regi tradidit, finitimosque suos regiæ parti subjicere studuit.”

[637] N. C. vol. iv. pp. 39, 737.

[638] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 201.

[639] See above, p. 209.

[640] Will. Gem. vii. 4. See N. C. vol. i. p. 465. The kindred is also implied in the fact that William of Breteuil was the nephew of both Ralph and William. See Ord. Vit. 688 B, D, and below, p. 266.

[641] Ord. Vit. 687 D. “Perstrepentibus undique præliis in Neustria, securitate pacis perfrui non poterat Ebroicensis provincia. Illic nempe plus quam civile bellum inter opulentos fratres exortum est, et maligna superbarum æmulatione mulierum malitia nimis augmentata est. Heluisa namque comitissa contra Isabelem de Conchis pro quibusdam contumeliosis verbis irata est, comitemque Guillelmum cum baronibus suis in arma per iram commovere totis viribus conata est. Sic per suspiciones et litigia feminarum in furore succensa sunt fortium corda virorum, quorum manibus paulo post multus mutuo cruor effusus est mortalium, et per villas et vicos multarum incensa sunt tecta domorum.”

[642] She was the daughter of William the First, Count of Auxerre and Nevers, by his first wife Ermengarde, daughter of Reginald Count of Tonnerre. See Art de Vérifier les Dates, ii. 559.

[643] Orderic has two pictures of her. In the second (834 B), drawn a few years later than our present time, when Count William “natura senioque aliquantum hebescebat,” we read, “Uxor ejus totum consulatum regebat, quæ in sua sagacitate plus quam oporteret confidebat. Pulcra quidem et facunda erat, et magnitudine corporis pene omnes feminas in comitatu Ebroarum consistentes excellebat, et eximia nobilitate, utpote illustris Guillelmi Nivernensis comitis filia, satis pollebat. Hæc nimirum consilio baronum mariti sui relicto, æstimationem suam præferebat, et ardua nimis secularibus in rebus plerumque arripiebat atque immoderata temptare properabat.” Elsewhere (688 A), he says, “Ambæ mulieres quæ talia bella ciebant, loquaces et animosæ, ac forma elegantes erant, suisque maritis imperabant, subditos homines premebant, variisque modis terrebant.” When Orderic (576 C), recording Isabel’s widowhood and religious profession, speaks of her as “letalis lasciviæ cui nimis in juventute servierat pœnitens,” the word need not be taken in the worst sense. He uses (864 A) the same kind of language of Juliana daughter of Henry the First, who, whatever she was as a daughter, seems to have been a very good wife and mother.

[644] Ord. Vit. 834 B. “Pro feminea procacitate Rodberto comiti de Mellento aliisque Normannis invidiosa erat.”

[645] Ord. Vit. 576 B, C.

[646] Ib. 834 C.

[647] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 605, 643.

[648] Ord. Vit. 688 A. “Magna in eisdem morum diversitas erat. Heluisa quidem solers erat et facunda, sed atrox et avara. Isabel vero dapsilis et audax atque jocosa, ideoque coessentibus amabilis et grata. In expeditione inter milites, ut miles, equitabat armata, et loricatis equitibus ac spiculatis satellitibus non minori præstabat audacia quam decus Italiæ Turni manipularibus virgo Camilla.” He goes on to liken her to Penthesileia and all the other Amazons.

[649] Ib. “Radulfus Robertum ducem adivit, querelas damnorum quæ a contribulibus suis pertulerat intimavit, et herile adjutorium ab eo poposcit; sed frustra, qui nihil obtinuit.”

[650] Ib. B. “Hinc alias conversus est, et utile sibi patrocinium quærere compulsus est. Regem Angliæ per legatos suos interpellatur, eique sua infortunia mandavit, et si sibi suffragaretur, se et omnia sua permisit. His auditis rex gavisus est, et efficax adminiculum indigenti pollicitus est. Deinde Stephano comiti et Gerardo de Gornaco, aliisque tribunis et centurionibus qui præerant in Normannia familiis ejus, mandavit ut Radulfum totis adjuvarent nisibus et oppida ejus munirent necessariis omnibus.”

[651] Ord. Vit. 681 A. “Robertus Aucensium comes, et Gauterius Gifardus et Radulfus de Mortuomari, et pene omnes qui trans Sequanam usque ad mare habitabant, Anglicis conjuncti sunt.”

[652] Ib. “De regiis opibus ad muniendas domos suas armis et satellitibus copiosam pecuniam receperunt.”

[653] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 644.

[654] Ord. Vit. 681 A. “Robertus dux contra tot hostes repagulum paravit, filiamque suam quam de pellice habuerat, Heliæ filio Lamberti de Sancto Sidonio conjugem dedit.”

[655] N. C. vol, i. p. 253.

[656] Will. Gem. viii. 37.

[657] Ord. Vit. 681 B. “Archas cum Buris et adjacente provincia in maritagio tribuit, ut adversariis resisteret Calegiique comitatum defenderet. Ille vero jussa viriliter complere cœpit.”

[658] Neufchâtel-en-Bray, famous for cheeses.

[659] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 121.

[660] Ord. Vit. 681 B. “Roberto duci et Guillelmo filio ejus semper fidelis fuit, et sub duobus regibus Guillelmo et Henrico multa pertulit, labores videlicet ac exhæreditationem, damna, exsilium, ac multa pericula.” See N. C. vol. v. pp. 84, 182.

[661] N. C. vol. ii. p. 254.

[662] N. C. vol. iv. p. 700.

[663] Will. Malms. iv. 307. “Domino suo regi Franciæ per nuntios violentiam fratris exposuit, suppetias orans. Et ille quidem iners, et quotidianam crapulam ructans, ad bellum singultiens ingluvie veniebat.”

[664] The place is not mentioned in the Chronicles nor in any other of our accounts, except by Robert of Torigny in the Continuation of William of Jumièges, viii. 3. He tells his story backwards in a very confused way, and mixes up the events of this year and the next; “Facta est itaque tandem inter eos [Robertum et Willelmum] apud Cadomum, ut diximus, adminiculante Philippo rege Francorum, qui in auxilium ducis contra Willelmum regem apud oppidum Auci ingenti Anglorum et Normannorum exercitu tunc morantem venerat, qualiscumque concordia.” This means the peace of 1092, when William was in Normandy, and when Philip certainly did not come to Eu. On the other hand, William was certainly not at Eu in 1091. But as Philip did in 1091 come to some castle which must have been either Eu, Aunde, or Gournay, we may perhaps accept this as evidence in favour of Eu.

[665] Chron. Petrib. 1090. “Se cyng Willelm of Englalande sende to Philippe Francena cynge, and he for his lufan oððe for his mycele gersuma, forlet swa his man þone eorl Rodbeard and his land, and ferde ongean to France, and let heom swa weorðan.” The spirit is lost in the Latin of Florence; “Quod cum regi Willelmo nuntiatum esset, non modica pecuniæ quantitati regi Philippo occulte transmissa, ut obsidione dimissa, domum rediret, flagitavit et imperavit.”

[666] Will. Malms. iv. 307. “Occurrerunt magna pollicenti nummi regis Angliæ, quibus infractus cingulum solvit et convivium repetiit.”

[667] Macaulay, Hist. Eng. iv. 265. “The Elector of Saxony … had, together with a strong appetite for subsidies, a great desire to be a member of the most select and illustrious orders of knighthood.” For this last passion there was as yet no room, but William Rufus did a good deal towards bringing about the state of things in which it arose.

[668] N. C. vol. ii. p. 318.

[669] So are the Norman reigns of Geoffrey Plantagenet and his son Henry. But their position in Normandy was quite different from Robert’s, while they claimed England in quite a different sense from the claims of Robert, and had—the son at least had—partisans there.

[670] N. C. vol. v. pp. 85, 95, 96.

[671] The character of this Count Geoffrey (son of the Rotrou who figures in the war of the Conqueror and his son, N. C. vol. iv. pp. 637, 639) as drawn by Orderic (675 D; see above, p. 183) is worth studying; “Erat idem consul magnanimus, corpore pulcher, et callidus, timens Deum et ecclesiæ cultor devotus, clericorum pauperumque Dei defensor strenuus, in pace quietus et amabilis, bonisque pollebat moribus.” Yet he was also “in bello gravis et fortunatus, finitimisque intolerabilis regibus et inimicus [cis?] omnibus.” Moreover “multas villas combussit multasque prædas hominesque adduxit.” The truth is that the curse of private warfare drew the best men, no less than the worst, into the common whirlpool; and, once in arms, they could not keep back their followers from the usual excesses, even if any such thought occurred to themselves. Cf. Ord. Vit. 890 B for another mention of Geoffrey.

[672] See above, p. 184.

[673] Ord. Vit. 685 A, B. This Gilbert is son of Eginulf, who died at Senlac (N. C. vol. iii. p. 503, note), and brother of Richer, who died before Sainte-Susanne (N. C. vol. iv. p. 659). His sister Matilda married Robert of Mowbray.

[674] Ib. 684 D, 685 C, D; Will. Gem. viii. 15. The offender, a man of Belial, was Ascelin surnamed Goel. The marriage was blessed or cursed with the birth of seven sons, all, according to both our authorities, of evil report.

[675] See above, p. 194. The bandying of words, as given by Orderic (686 A), is worth notice; “Robertus comes Mellenti muneribus et promissis Guillelmi regis turgidus de Anglia venit, Rothomagum ad ducem accessit, et ab eo arcem Ibreii procaciter repetiit. Cui dux respondit, Æquipotens mutuum patri tuo dedi Brioniam nobile castrum pro arce Ibreii. Comes Mellenti dixit, Istud mutuum non concedo, sed quod pater tuus patri meo dedit habere volo. Alioqui per sanctum Nigasium faciam quod tibi displicebit. Iratus igitur dux illico eum comprehendi et in carcere vinciri præcepit, et Brioniam Roberto Balduini filio custodiendam commisit.” This Robert in 686 D sets forth his pedigree, as grandson of Count Gilbert the guardian of the Conqueror (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 195, 196). He was nephew of Richard of Bienfaite (see above, p. 68), the founder of the house of Clare.

[676] He is now brought in as “callidus senex.”

[677] Ord. Vit. 686 C. The Duke speaks of the old Roger’s “magna legalitas,” “loyalty,” according to its etymology. Is it characteristic of the “callidus senex” that he addresses the Duke as “vestra sublimitas,” “vestra serenitas,” and thanks him for imprisoning his son, “temerarium juvenem”? Yet it was twenty-four years since the exploits of Robert of Meulan at Senlac.

[678] Ib. D. “Ob hoc ingens pecuniæ pondus promisit.”

[679] Ib. 687 A.

[680] Ib. A, B. “Tunc calor ingens incipientis æstatis, et maxima siccitas erant, quæ forinsecus expugnantes admodum juvabant. Callidi enim obsessores in fabrili fornace quæ in promptu structa fuerat, ferrum missilium calefaciebant, subitoque super tectum principalis aulæ in munimento jaciebant, et sic ferrum candens sagittarum atque pilorum in arida veterum lanugine imbricum totis nisibus figebant.”

[681] Ib. “Sic Robertus dux ab hora nona Brioniam ante solis occasum obtinuit, quam Guillelmus pater ejus cum auxilio Henrici Francorum regis sibi vix in tribus annis subigere potuit.” See N. C. vol. ii. p. 268.

[682] See above, p. 234.

[683] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 145, 451.

[684] Ib. vol. v. pp. 466, 474.

[685] Ord. Vit. 689 D. “Hujus nimirum factionis incentor Conanus Gisleberti Pilati filius erat, qui inter cives, utpote ditissimus eorum, præcellebat. Is cum rege de tradenda civitate pactum fecerat, et immensis opibus ditatus in urbe vigebat, ingentemque militum et satellitum familiam contra ducem turgidus jugiter pascebat.”

[686] Ib. 691 A. “Guillelmus Ansgerii filius, Rodomensium ditissimus.” This is after Conan’s death.

[687] Ib. 689 D. “Cives Rothomagi regiis muneribus et promissis illecti de mutando principe tractaverunt, ac ut Normanniæ metropolim cum somnolento duce regi proderent consiliati sunt.”

[688] Ib. “Maxima pars urbanorum eidem adquiescebant. Nonnulli tamen pro fide duci servanda resistebant, et opportunis tergiversationibus detestabile facinus impediebant.”

[689] Ord. Vit. 689 D. “Conanus de suorum consensu contribulium securus, terminum constituit.” Orderic most likely means nothing in particular by this odd word “contribules.” But the later history of free cities supplies a certain temptation to begin thinking of gilds, Zünfte, Geschlechter, abbayes, and alberghi.

[690] Ib. “Dux, ubi tantam contra se machinationem comperiit, amicos in quibus confidebat ad se convocavit.”

[691] Ord. Vit. 690 A. “Henricus igitur primus ei suppetias venit, et primo subsidium fratri contulit, deinde vindictam viriliter in proditorem exercuit.”

[692] Ib. “Fidelibus suis desolationem sui cita legatione intimavit.”

[693] Ib. See above, p. 76, and N. C. vol. iv. p. 654.

[694] See above, p. 242. He was killed next year. See Ord. Vit. 685 B.

[695] This earlier castle of the dukes must be carefully distinguished from the Vieux Palais, which, though it is no longer standing, still lives in street nomenclature. This last was the work of our Henry the Fifth, and lay to the west, between the Roman wall and the wall of Saint Lewis.

On this side of the city the modern street lately called Rue de l’Impératrice, and now promoted to the name of Rue Jeanne Darc, is not a bad guide. It runs a little outside of the Roman wall and may fairly represent its fosse. So the other great modern street called Rue de l’Hôtel de Ville, and now Rue Thiers, runs a little further outside the northern wall of the ancient city, which is marked by the Rue de la Ganterie.

[696] On this side again a modern street helps us. The Rue de la République, lately Rue Impériale, marks, though less accurately than the others, the eastern side of the city. The Rebecq may be traced for a little way, but it presently loses itself, or at least is lost to the inquirer.

[697] Ord. Vit. 690 B. See below, p. 255.

[698] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 203.

[699] “Archimonasterium” is a title of Saint Ouen’s. See Neustria Pia, 1.

[700] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 183, 468.

[701] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 704.

[702] The “Tour de la Grosse Horloge” and the gate close by are conspicuous features in that quarter of Rouen. The noble Palace of Justice was not even represented in the times with which we have to do.

[703] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 706.

[704] Neustria Pia, 611.

[705] Ord. Vit. 690 A. “Ad Calcegiensem portam properavit.”

[706] Ord. Vit. 690 A. “Jampridem quidam de regiis satellitibus in urbem introierant, et parati, rebellionem tacite præstolantes, seditionis moram ægre ferebant.”

[707] Ib. B. “Dum militaris et civilis tumultus exoritur, nimius hinc et inde clamor attollitur, et tota civitas pessime confunditur, et in sua viscera crudeliter debacchatur. Plures enim civium contra cognatos vicinosque suos ad utramque portam dimicabant, dum quædam pars duci, et altera regi favebant…. Dum perturbationis ingens tumultus cuncta confunderet, et nesciretur quam quisque civium sibi partem eligeret.”

[708] Ib. B. “Dux ubi furentes, ut dictum est, in civitate advertit, cum Henrico fratre suo et commanipularibus suis de arce prodiit, suisque velociter suffragari appetiit.”

[709] Ord. Vit. 690 B. “Ne perniciem inhonestam stolido incurreret, cunctisque Normannis perenne opprobrium fieret.”

[710] Ib. “Fugiens cum paucis per orientalem portam egressus est, et mox a suburbanis vici, qui Mala-palus dicitur, fideliter ut specialis herus susceptus est.”

[711] Ord. Vit. 690 B. “Cimba parata Sequanam intravit, et relicto post terga conflictu trepidus ad Ermentrudis-villam navigavit. Tunc ibidem a Guillelmo de Archis Molismensi monacho susceptus est, ibique in basilica sanctæ Mariæ de Prato finem commotæ seditionis præstolatus est.” On this William of Arques, see above, p. 220.

William of Malmesbury (v. 392) has quite another account, in which the Duke’s flight is not spoken of, and in which Henry at least urges him to action; “Regios eo interdiu venientes, qui dolo civium totam jampridem occupaverant urbem, probe expulit [Henricus], admonito per nuntios comite ut ille a fronte propelleret quos ipse a tergo urgeret.” This account does not come in its chronological place, but in William’s account of the early life of Henry. And he misconceives the date, placing the revolt of Rouen after the coming of William into Normandy; “Willelmo veniente in Normanniam uti se de fratre Roberto ulcisceretur, comiti obsequelam suam exhibuit [Henricus], Rotomagi positus.”

[712] Ord. Vit. 690 C. “Regia cohors territa fugit, latebrasque silvarum quæ in vicinio erant, avide poscens, delituit, et subsidio noctis discrimen mortis seu captionis difficulter evasit.”

[713] On the different versions of the death of Conan in Orderic and in William of Malmesbury, see Appendix K.

[714] Ord. Vit. 690 C. “Considera, Conane, quam pulcram tibi patriam conatus es subjicere.”

[715] Ord. Vit. 690 C. “En, ad meridiem delectabile parcum patet oculis tuis. En saltuosa regio silvestribus abundans feris. Ecce Sequana piscosum flumen Rotomagensem murum allambit, navesque pluribus mercimoniis refertas huc quotidie devehit.”

[716] Ib. D. “En ex alia parte civitas populosa, mœnibus sacrisque templis et urbanis ædibus speciosa, cui jure a priscis temporibus subjacet Normannia tota.”

[717] Ib. “Pro redemptione mei domino meo aurum dabo et argentum, quantum reperire potero in thesauris meis meorumque parentum, et pro culpa infidelitatis fidele usque ad mortem rependam servitium.”

[718] Ord. Vit. 690 C. “Per animam matris meæ, traditori nulla erit redemptio, sed debitæ mortis acceleratio.”

[719] Ib. “Conanus gemens clamavit alta voce; Pro amore, inquit, Dei, confessionem mihi permitte.”

[720] Ib. “Henricus acer fraternæ ultor injuriæ præ ira infremuit.” Simple wrath is an attribute which we are more used to assign to Henry the Second, with his hereditary touch of the Angevin devil, than to the calm, deliberate, Henry the First. Yet we can understand how, through the stages of the “ironica insultatio,” as Orderic calls Henry’s discourse to Conan, a determination taken in cold blood might grow into the fierce delight of destruction at the actual moment of carrying it out.

[721] See Appendix K.

[722] Ord. Vit. 691 A. “Locus ipse, ubi vindicta hujusmodi perpetrata est, saltus Conani usque in hodiernam diem vocitatus est.”

[723] See above, p. 190.

[724] Ord. Vit. 691 A. “Robertus dux, ut de prato ad arcem rediit et quæ gesta fuerant comperit, pietate motus infortunio civium condoluit, sed, fortiori magnatorum censura prævalente, reis parcere nequivit.”

[725] Ord. Vit. 691 A. “Robertus Belesmensis et Guillelmus Bretoliensis affuerunt, et Rodomanos incolas velut exteros prædones captivos abduxerunt, et squaloribus carceris graviter afflixerunt…. Sic Belesmici et Aquilini ceterique ducis auxiliarii contra se truculenter sæviunt, civesque metropolis Neustriæ vinculatos attrahunt, cunctisque rebus spoliatos, ut barbaros hostes male affligunt.”

[726] Ib. “A Guillelmo Bretoliensi ducitur captivus, et post longos carceris squalores redimit se librarum tribus millibus.”

[727] See above, p. 243.

[728] Ib. 688 B. “Mense Novembri Guillelmus comes ingentem exercitum aggregavit, et Conchas expugnare cœpit.” One would like to know what number passed for “ingens exercitus” in this kind of warfare.

[729] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 713.

[730] Ib. p. 713.

[731] Ord. Vit. 834 C. “Prædictus comes et Heluisa comitissa dangionem regis apud Ebroas funditus dejecerunt.”

[732] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 204.

[733] On the foundation of the abbey of Conches or Castellion, see Neustria Pia, 567, and the passages from Orderic and William of Jumièges there cited. William (vii. 22) puts it among the monasteries founded in the reign of William the Great, and calls its founder Ralph. But Orderic (460 A) attributes the foundation to a Roger, seemingly the old Roger who came back from Spain. I can hardly accept the suggestion in Neustria Pia that the Roger spoken of is the young Roger of whom we shall presently hear, the son of Ralph and Isabel, and that he was joint-founder with his father Ralph.

Orderic twice (493 B, 576 A) distinguishes Ralph of Conches, the husband of Isabel, from his father Roger of Toesny; “Rodulphus de Conchis, Rogerii Toenitis filius,” “Radulfus de Conchis, filius Rogerii de Toënia.”

[734] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 534.

[735] Will. Gem. vii. 22.

[736] Ord. Vit. 688 B.

[737] Ord. Vit. 688 B. “Dum cœnobialem curiam beati Petri Castellionis invaderet, nec pro reverentia monachorum, qui cum fletibus vociferantes Dominum interpellabant, ab incœptis desisteret, hostili telo repente percussus est, ipsoque die cum maximo luctu utriusque partis mortuus est.” He is described as “formidabilis marchisius.”

[738] Ib. C. “Radulfus pervalidum agmen de suis, et de familia regis habuit.”

[739] Ib. “Cupidis tironibus foras erumpere dixit, Armamini et estote parati, sed de munitione non exeatis donec ego jubeam vobis. Sinite hostes præda onerari, et discedentes mecum viriliter insectamini. Illi autem principi suo, qui probissimus et militiæ gnarus erat, obsecundarunt, et abeuntes cum præda pedetentim persecuti sunt.” Cf. the same kind of policy on the part of the Conqueror, N. C. vol. iii. p. 152.

[740] Ib. “Ebroicenses erubescentes quod guerram superbe cœperant et inde maximi pondus detrimenti cum dedecore pertulerant, conditioni pacis post triennalem guerram adquieverunt.” The peace was clearly made about the end of 1090 or the very beginning of 1091. The three years of war must therefore be reckoned from the death of the Conqueror, or from some time not long after.

[741] Ord. Vit. 688 D. He had at least two natural children, a daughter Isabel, of whom we have already heard (see above, p. 243), and a son Eustace, who succeeded his father in the teeth of all collateral claimants. Eustace is best known as the husband of Henry the First’s natural daughter Juliana (see N. C. vol. v. p. 157, note), in whose story we come again to the ever-disputed tower of Ivry. See Will. Gem. viii. 15; Ord. Vit. 577 B; 810 C; 848 B, C.

[742] Ib. “Ebroicensis quoque comes eundem Rogerium, utpote nepotem suum, consulatus sui heredem constituit.” This was to the prejudice of his nephew Amalric of Montfort, son of his whole sister Agnes, and half-brother of Isabel. After Count William’s death in 1108, the strivings after his county were great and long, till Amalric recovered full possession in 1119. Ord. Vit. 863 C.

[743] Ib. “Pretiosis vestibus quibus superbi nimis insolescunt, uti dedignabatur, et in omni esse suo sese modeste regere nitebatur.” This must be taken in connexion with Orderic’s various protests against the vain fashions of the day, especially the great one in p. 682.

[744] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 219; iv. p. 448.

[745] Ord. Vit. 688 D. “Quondam milites otiosi simul in Aula Conchis ludebant et colloquebantur, et coram domina Elisabeth de diversis thematibus, ut mos est hujusmodi, confabulabantur.” Then follows this beautiful story of the three dreams.

[746] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 130.

[747] Ord. Vit. 689 A. “Dextera sua me benedicentem, signumque crucis super caput meum benigniter facientem.”

[748] He married their daughter Godehild, the former wife of Robert, son of Henry Earl of Warwick. See Ord. Vit. 576 C; Will. Gem. viii. 41. The strange story of his two later marriages does not concern us, and the way in which he became Count of Edessa was hardly becoming in a holy warrior.

[749] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 94, 819, and Appendix HH.

[750] Ord. Vit. 689 C.

[751] Ib. 784 B.

[752] Ib. 834 C. There is a singular contrast in the words with which Orderic disposes of the dead bodies of the Count and the Countess; “Comitissa nempe defuncta prius apud Nogionem quiescit; comes vero, postmodum apoplexia percussus, sine viatico decessit, et cadaver ejus cum patre suo Fontinellæ computrescit.”

[753] See above, p. 233.

[754] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 496.

[755] Ord. Vit. 691 A, B. “Ecce quibus ærumnis superba profligatur Normannia, quæ nimis olim victa gloriabatur Anglia, et naturalibus regni filiis trucidatis sive fugatis usurpabat eorum possessiones et imperia. Ecce massam divitiarum quas aliis rapuit eisque pollens ad suam perniciem insolentur tumuit, nunc non ad delectamentum sui sed potius ad tormentum miserabiliter distrahit.” He has an earlier reflexion to the same effect (664 B); “Sic proceres Neustriæ … patriam divitiis opulentam propriis viribus vicissim exspoliaverunt, opesque quas Anglis aliisque gentibus violenter rapuerunt merito latrociniis et rapinis perdiderunt.”

[756] Ord. Vit. 691 A, B. “Soli gaudent, sed non diu nec feliciter, qui furari seu prædari possunt pertinaciter.”

[757] Ib. “In diebus illis non erat rex neque dux Hierusalem, aureisque vitulis Jeroboam rebellis plebs immolabat in Dan et Bethel.” We are used to this kind of analogy whenever any one goes after a wrong Pope; but Normandy, with all its crimes, seems to have been perfectly orthodox.

[758] Ib. C. “Multa intueor in divina pagina quæ subtiliter coaptata nostri temporis eventui videntur similia. [Every age, except perhaps the eighteenth, has made the same remark.] Ceterum allegoricas allegationes et idoneas humanis moribus interpretationes studiosis rimandas relinquam, simplicemque Normannicarum historiam rerum adhuc aliquantulum protelare satagam.” This praiseworthy resolve reminds us of an earlier passage (683 B) where he laments the failure of the princes and prelates of his day to work miracles, and his own inability to force them to the needful pitch of holiness; “Ast ego vim illis ut sanctificentur inferre nequeo. Unde his omissis super rebus quæ fiunt veracem dictatum facio.”

It would seem from this that Orderic dictated his book. (See also his complaint in 718 C, when at the age of sixty he felt too old to write and had no one to write for him.) We need not therefore infer in some other cases that, because an author dictated, therefore he could not write.

[759] The Chronicle (1091) says expressly, “On þisum geare se cyng Willelm heold his hired to X[~p]es messan on Wæstmynstre, and þæræfter to Candelmæssan he ferde for his broðer unþearfe ut of Englalande into Normandige.” So Florence; “Mense Februario rex Willelmus junior Normanniam petiit.” Orderic (696 D) seems to place his voyage a little earlier; “Mense Januario Guillelmus Rufus rex Anglorum cum magna classe in Normanniam transfretavit.” But he places it late in the month; for in 693 B, having recorded the death of Bishop Gerard on January 23, he adds that the King’s voyage happened “eadem septimana.”

[760] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 234.

[761] Richard of Courcy’s son Robert married Rohesia, one of the many daughters of Hugh of Grantmesnil. Ord. Vit. 692 A.

[762] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 197.

[763] Ord. Vit. 691 C.

[764] See Appendix L.

[765] Ord. Vit. 693 B. “Cujus [Guillelmi] adventu audito, territus dux cum Roberto aliisque obsidentibus actutum recessit, et unusquisque propria repetiit.” He is more emphatic in 697 A; “Robertus de Belesmo cum suis complicibus aufugit.”

[766] Ord. Vit. 693 B. “Mox omnes pene Normannorum optimates certatim regem adierunt, eique munera, recepturi majora, cum summo favore contulerunt. Galli quoque et Britones et Flandritæ, ut regem apud Aucum in Neustria commorari audierunt, aliique plures de collimitaneis provinciis, ad eum convenerunt. Tunc magnificentiam ejus alacriter experti sunt, domumque petentes cunctis cum principibus suis divitiis et liberalitate præposuerunt.”

[767] On the Treaty of 1091, see Appendix M.

[768] See above, p. 221.

[769] Ord. Vit. 693 B. “Tunc ingentia Robertus dux a rege dona recepit.”

[770] See Appendix M; and for the affairs of Maine, see below, Chapter VI.

[771] William of Malmesbury (v. 392) is becomingly strong on this head; “Parum hic labor apud Robertum valuit, virum animi mobilis, qui statim ad ingratitudinem flexus, bene meritum urbe cedere coegit.” This comes just after the death of Conan. His whole account is very confused.

[772] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 87–90.

[773] Ib. vol. v. p. 328

[774] Ib. vol. v. p. 388.

[775] Ib. vol. v. p. 89.

[776] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 288, 796.

[777] Ib. vol. iii. p. 7; see vol. ii. p. 376.

[778] Ib. vol. iv. p. 694.

[779] We have seen him already as a counsellor; see above, p. 220. Orderic, giving a picture of him some years later (778 B), adds that “ducem sibi coævum et quasi collectaneum fratrem diligebat.”

[780] See Appendix M.

[781] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 194, 508, 567.

[782] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “And ut of Normandig for to þam cynge his aðume to Scotlande and to his swustor.”

[783] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “Ðas forewarde gesworan xii. þa betste of þes cynges healfe, and xii. of þes eorles.” In Florence the “betste” become “barones.”

[784] “Þeah hit syððan litle hwile stode.”

[785] Ord. Vit. 697 A. “Aggregatis Britonibus et Normannis, Constantiam et Abrincas aliaque oppida munivit, et ad resistendum totis nisibus insurrexit.”

[786] Ib. 697 B. “Britones, qui sibi solummodo adminiculum contulerant.”

[787] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 209.

[788] Ord. Vit. 697 A. “Hugo Cestrensis comes aliique fautores, ejus paupertatem perpendentes, et amplas opes terribilemque potentiam Guillelmi regis metuentes, egregium clitonem in bellico angore deseruerunt, et municipia sua regi tradiderunt.” Wace tells quite another tale, more favourable to Earl Hugh, but much less likely. See Appendix N.

[789] Ann. S. Mich. 1023. “Hoc anno inchoatum est novum monasterium a Richardo secundo comite et Hildeberto abbate, qui abbas ipso anno obiit.” This is Hildebert the Second, appointed in 1017.

[790] Ib. 1100. “Hoc anno pars non modica ecclesiæ montis sancti Michaelis corruit … in cujus ruina portio quædam dormitorii monachorum destructa atque eversa est.” Ib. 1112. “Hoc anno combusta est hæc ecclesia sancti Michaelis igne fulmineo, cum omnibus officinis monachorum.”

[791] Ann. S. Mich. 1085. “Huic [Rannulfo] successit Rogerius Cadomensis, non electione monachorum, sed vi terrenæ potestatis.”

[792] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 468.

[793] See Florence’s account in Appendix N.

[794] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 235.

[795] I take this from Wace, 14660;

“Li Munt asistrent environ,
De Genez de si à Coisnon
E la revière d’Ardenon;
N’issent del mont se par els non.
A Avrenches li reis séeit
Et a Genez li dus esteit.”

On the value of Wace’s general story, see Appendix N; but we may trust the topography of the Jerseyman.

[796] See Florence’s account in Appendix N. So Will. Malms. iv. 308; “Crebris excursibus obsidentem militiam germanorum contristavit.” Wace (14652) says,

“Sovent coreit par Costentin,
E tensout tot Avrencin;
Li vilains prist, si fist raendre,
Ne leissout rien k’il péust prendra.”

[797] Wace, 14666;

“Mult véissiez joster sovent,
E tornéier espessement
Entre li Munt et Ardenon
E la rivière de Coisnon.
Chescun jor al flo retraiant
Vint chevaliers jostes menant.”

[798] On the two versions of this story, if they are meant to be the same story, in William of Malmesbury and in Wace, see Appendix N.

[799] Will. Malms. iv. 309. “Solus in multos irruit, alacritate virtutis impatiens, simulque confidens nullum sibi ausurum obsistere.”

[800] Ib. “Fides loricæ obstitit ne læderetur.”

[801] Ib. “Tolle, nebulo, Rex Angliæ sum.”

[802] I Kings xii. 31.

[803] Will. Malms. iv. 309. “Tremuit, nota voce jacentis, vulgus militum, statimque reverenter de terra levato equum alterum adducunt.”

[804] Ib. “Non expectato ascensorio, sonipedem insiliens, omnesque circumstantes vivido perstringens oculo, Quis, inquit, me dejecit?”

[805] See Appendix G. We have had this favourite oath already.

[806] Will. Malms. u. s. “Meus amodo eris, et meo albo insertus laudabilis militiæ præmia reportabis.” Of William’s “album” or muster-roll we hear elsewhere. Wace, 14492;

“N’oïst de chevalier parler
Ke de proesce oïst loer,
Ki en son brief escrit ne fust,
E ki par an del suen n’éust.”

[807] See Roger of Howden, iv. 83. The King is wounded before Chaluz; the castle is taken, “quo capto, præcepit rex omnes suspendi, excepto illo solo qui eum vulneraverat, quem, ut fas est credere, turpissima morte damnaret, si convaluisset.”

[808] See N. C. vol. v. p. 73. Where did William of Malmesbury find his story of Alexander, “qui Persam militem se a tergo ferire conatum, sed pro perfidia ensis spe sua frustratum, incolumem pro admiratione fortitudinis conservavit”? The story in Arrian, i. 15, is quite different.

[809] The stock of meat comes from Wace, 14700;

“De viande aveient plenté
Maiz de bevre aveient grant chierté;
Asez aveient a mengier,
Maiz molt trovoent li vin chier.”

The lack of water is secondary in his version. See Appendix N.

[810] Will. Malms. iv. 310. “Impium esse ut eum aqua arceant, quæ esset communis mortalibus; aliter, si velit, virtutem experiatur; nec pugnet violentia elementorum sed virtute militum.” If this represents a real message from Henry, it must surely have been meant as an argumentum ad hominem for Robert.

[811] Ib. “Genuina mentis mollitie flexus, suos qua prætendebant laxius habere se jussit.” This must mean the quarters of Robert at Genetz, as distinguished from those of William.

[812] See Appendix N.

[813] Will. Malms. iv. 310. “Belle scis actitare guerram, qui hostibus præbes aquæ copiam; et quomodo eos domabimus si eis in pastu et in potu indulserimus?”

[814] Ib. “Ille renidens illud come et merito famosum verbum emisit, Papæ, dimitterem fratrem nostrum mori siti? et quem alium habebimus si eum amiserimus?” For the other version, see Appendix N. M. le Hardy (80), who is a knight of the order of Pius the Ninth, translates “Papæ,” “par le Pape.”

[815] See Appendix N.

[816] Ord. Vit. 697 A. “Fere xv. diebus cum suis aquæ penuria maxime coarcuerunt. Porro callidus juvenis, dum sic a fratribus suis coarctaretur, et a cognatis atque amicis et confœderatis affinibus undique destitueretur, et multimoda pene omnium quibus homines indigent inedia angeretur,” &c. The siege began “in medio quadragesimæ,” and lasted fifteen days. Florence is therefore wrong in saying “per totam quadragesimam montem obsederunt.”

[817] Flor. Wig. 1091. “Frequenter cum eo prœlium commiserunt, et homines et equos nonnullos perdiderunt. At rex, cum obsidionis diutinæ pertæsus fuisset, impacatus recessit.”

[818] Ord. Vit. 697 A. “Liberum sibi sociisque suis exitum de monte ab obsidentibus poposcit. Illi admodum gavisi sunt, ipsumque cum omni apparatu suo egredi honorifice permiserunt.” On the honours of war, see above, p. 86. See Appendix N.

[819] Ib. “Rex in Neustria usque ad Augustum permansit, et dissidentes qui eidem adquiescere voluerunt regali auctoritate pacavit.” So in 693 C he mentions the lands of Eu, Gournay, and Conches, and adds, “ubi præfatus rex a Januario usque ad kal. Augusti regali more cum suis habitavit.” I assume Eu as his actual head-quarters, as it was before and after.

[820] Ib. D. See the next chapter.

[821] Ord. Vit. 697 B. “Sic regia proles in exsilio didicit pauperiem perpeti, ut futurus rex optime sciret miseris et indigentibus compati, eorumque dejectioni vel indigentiæ regali potentia seu dapsilitate suffragari, et ritus infirmorum expertus eis pie misereri.”

[822] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 156, 843.

[823] See Appendix O.

[824] Will. Malms. iv. 310. “In regnum se cum ambobus fratribus recepit.” I should hardly have accepted this evidence, if it had not been confirmed by the signatures to a charter of which I shall presently speak. See below, p. 305.

[825] Immediately after the words quoted in p. 282, follows the entry about Malcolm; “Onmang þam þe se cyng W. ut of Englelande wæs ferde se cyng Melcolm of Scotlande hider into Englum, and his mycelne dæl ofer hergode.”

[826] Ord. Vit. 701 A. “In illo tempore Melcoma rex Scotorum contra regem Anglorum rebellavit, debitumque servitium ei denegavit.” See Appendix P.

[827] Flor. Wig. 1091. “Mense Maio rex Scottorum Malcolmus cum magno exercitu Northymbriam invasit; si proventus successisset, ulterius processurus, et vim Angliæ incolis illaturus. Noluit Deus: ideo ab incepto est impeditus: attamen antequam rediisset, ejus exercitus de Northymbria secum non modicam prædam abduxit.”

[828] Sim. Dun. 1093 (where he reckons up Malcolm’s invasions); “Quarto, regnante Willelmo juniore, cum suis copiis infinitis usque Ceastram, non longe a Dunelmo sitam, pervenit, animo intendens ulterius progredi.”

[829] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “Oð þæt þa gode men þe þis land bewiston, him fyrde ongean sændon and hine gecyrdon.” Did they not go in their own persons?

[830] See above, p. 282. The words of Orderic (701 A) are odd; “Guillelmus rex … cum Roberto fratre suo pacem fecerat, ipsumque contra infidos proditores qui contra regem conspiraverant secum duxerat.” This surely cannot mean the Scots; it must mean the rebels of three years before. Robert cannot have been brought to act in any way against them; yet the words of Orderic must have a confused reference to some real object of his coming.

[831] Will. Malms. iv. 311. “Satagente Roberto comite, qui familiarem jamdudum apud Scottum locaverat gratiam, inter Malcolmum et Willelmum concordia inita.” See Appendix P.

[832] See Appendix BB.

[833] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 513.

[834] Sim. Dun. His. Eccl. Dun. iv. 8. “Priori ad se venienti humiliter assurgens, benigne illum suscepit, et ita per omnia sub se, quemadmodum sub episcopo, curam ecclesiæ cum omni libertate agere præcepit.”

[835] Ib. “Licet in alia monasteria et ecclesias ferocius ageret, ipsis tamen non solum nihil auferebat, sed etiam de suo dabat, et ab injuriis malignorum sicut pater defendebat.”

[836] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 674.

[837] Sim. Dun. u. s. “Hoc tempore refectorium, quale hodie cernitur, monachi ædificaverunt.”

[838] Ib. “Tertio anno expulsionis episcopi, cum homines regis quoddam in Normannia castellum tenentes obsiderentur, et jamjamque capiendi essent, eos episcopus a periculo liberavit, et consilio suo ut obsidio solveretur effecit.”

[839] Sim. Dun. His. Eccl. Dun. iv. 8. “Unde rex placatus, universa quæ in Anglia prius habuerat, ei restituit.” More formally in the Gesta Regum, 1091; “Veniens Dunelmum, episcopum Willelmum restituit in sedem suam, ipso post annos tres die quo eam reliquit, scilicet tertio idus Septembris.” The time of three years is not quite exact; see above, p. 94.

[840] Hist. Eccl. Dun. u. s. “Ille nequaquam vacuus rediit, sed non pauca ex auro et argento sacra altaris vasa et diversa ornamenta, sed et libros plurimos ad ecclesiam præmittere curavit.”

[841] See above, p. 295, and below, p. 305.

[842] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “Se cyng W…. sona fyrde hét ut abeodan ægðer scipfyrde and landfyrde; and seo scipferde, ær he to Scotlande cuman mihte, ælmæst earmlice forfór, feowan dagon toforan S[~c]e Michæles mæssan.” Florence calls the host “classis non modica et equestris exercitus,” and adds that “multi de equestri exercitu ejus fame et frigore perierunt.”

[843] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “Ac þa þa, se cyng Melcolm gehyrde þæt hine man mid fyrde secean wolde, he for mid his fyrde ut of Scotlande into Loðene on Englaland, and þær abad.” Florence, followed by Simeon, oddly enough translates this; “Rex Malcolmus cum exercitu in provincia Loidis occurrit.” Hence some modern writers have carried Malcolm as far south as Leeds, I presume only to Leeds in Yorkshire. Orderic (701 A), though, as we shall see, he somewhat misconceives the story, marks the geography very well; “Exercitum totius Angliæ conglobavit, ut usque ad magnum flumen, quod Scotte Watra dicitur, perduxit.” The “Scots’ Water” is of course the Firth of Forth. So Turgot in the Life of Margaret (Surtees Simeon, p. 247) speaks of “utraque litora maris quod Lodoneium dividit et Scotiam.” See Appendix P.

[844] Chron. Petrib. ib. “Ða ða se cyng William mid his fyrde genealehte þa ferdon betwux Rodbeard eorl and Eadgar æþeling, and þæra cinga sehte swa gemacedon.” So Florence; “Quod videns comes Rotbertus, clitonem Eadgarum, quem rex de Normannia expulerat, et tunc cum rege Scottorum degebat, ad se accersivit: cujus auxilio fretus, pacem inter reges fecit.” On the details in Orderic, see Appendix P.

[845] “Ex consultu sapientum,” says Orderic. These ancient formulæ cleave to us wherever we go, even in the camp. On the action of the military Witan, see above, p. 216.

[846] See above, p. 25.

[847] See Appendix P.

[848] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 175.

[849] Ib. vol. ii. p. 272.

[850] It is specially marked that the homage now done was the renewal of the old homage. So the Chronicle, 1091; “Se cyng Melcolm to uran cynge com, and his man wearð to ealle swilcre gehyrsumnisse swa he ǽr his fæder dyde, and þæt mid aðe gefestnode.” So Florence; “Ea conditione, ut Willelmo, sicut patri suo obedivit, Malcolmus obediret.”

[851] The Chronicle says only; “Se cyng William him behét on lande and on ealle þinge þæs þe he under his fæder ǽr hæfde.” Florence is fuller; “Et Malcolmo xii. villas, quas in Anglia sub patre illius habuerat, Willelmus redderet, et xii. marcas auri singulis annis daret.” See Appendix P.

[852] Chron. Petrib. u. s. “On þisum sehte wearð eac Eadgar eþeling wið þone cyng gesæhtlad, and þa cyngas þa mid mycclum sehte tohwurfon, ac þæt litle hwile stod.” Florence is to the same effect. See Appendix P.

[853] Flor. Wig. 1091. “Post hæc rex de Northymbria per Merciam in West-Saxoniam rediit.”

[854] See Appendix P.

[855] See N. C. vol. v. p. 121. The Chronicle in 1093 brings him in as “Dunecan … se on þæs cynges hyrede W. wæs, swa swa his fæder hine ures cynges fæder ær to gisle geseald hæfde.”

[856] See above, p. 14.

[857] Could there be any reference to the non-restoration of Odo? See above, p. 283.

[858] See above, p. 143.

[859] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “And se eorl Rodbeard her oð X[~p]es mæsse forneah mid þam cynge wunode, and litel soðes þær onmang of heora forewarde onfand; and twam dagon ær þære tide on Wiht scipode and into Normandig fór, and Eadgar æþeling mid him.” So Florence; “Rex … secum fere usque ad nativitatem Domini comitem retinuit, sed conventionem inter eos factam persolvere noluit. Quod comes graviter ferens, xᵒ. kal. Januarii die cum clitone Eadgaro Normanniam repetiit.”

[860] Florence (1091) tells this tale; “Magnus fumus cum nimio fœtore subsecutus, totam ecclesiam replevit, et tamdiu duravit, quoad loci illius monachi cum aqua benedicta et incensu et reliquiis sanctorum, officinas monasterii psalmos decantando circumirent.” William of Malmesbury (iv. 323) gives more details, and is better certified as to the cause; “Secutus est odor teterrimus, hominum importabilis naribus. Tandem monachi, felici ausu irrumpentes, benedictæ aquæ aspergine præstigias inimici effugarunt.” A modern diplomatist might have said that the prestige of the evil one was lowered.

[861] Florence again tells the tale; but William of Malmesbury (iv. 324) again is far more emphatic, and seems to look on the winds as moral agents; “Quid illud omnibus incognitum sæculis? Discordia ventorum inter se dissidentium, ab Euro-austro veniens decimo sexto kal. Novembris Londoniæ plusquam secentas domos effregit…. Majus quoque scelus furor ventorum ausus, tectum ecclesiæ sanctæ Mariæ quæ ‘ad Arcus’ dicitur pariter sublevavit.” But Florence is simply setting down events under their years, while William is making a collection of “casualties,” to illustrate the position that “plura sub eo [Willelmo Rufo] subita et tristia acciderunt,” and notes this year as specially marked by “tumultus fulgurum, motus turbinum.”

[862] Flor. Wig. 1092. “Civitas Lundonia maxima ex parte incendio conflagravit.”

[863] See N. C. vol. i. p. 321.

[864] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 691.

[865] Flor. Wig. 1092. “Osmundus Searesbyriensis episcopus, ecclesiam quam Searesbyriæ in castello construxerat, cum adjutorio episcoporum Walcelini Wintoniensis et Johannis Bathoniensis, nonis Aprilis feria ii. dedicavit.” Cf. Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 183. The foundation charter (Mon. Ang. vi. 1299) was signed in 1091, “Willelmo rege monarchiam totius Angliæ strenue gubernante anno quarto regni ejus, apud Hastinges”—most likely on his return from Normandy in August. The signatures come in a strange order. Between the earls and the Archbishop of York come “Signum Wlnoti. Signum Croc venatoris.” Wulfnoth here turns up in the same strange way in which he so often does. Croc the huntsman we have heard of already. See above, p. 102. We get also the signatures of Howel Bishop of Le Mans, and of Robert the dispenser, who invented the surname Flambard (see below, p. 331). On the signature of Herbert Losinga, see Appendix X.

[866] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 606.

[867] Will. Malms. iv. 325. “Eadem violentia fulminis apud Salesbiriam tectum turris ecclesiæ omnino disjecit, multamque maceriam labefactavit, quinta sane die postquam eam dedicaverat Osmundus, præclaræ memoriæ episcopus.”

[868] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 419, and Giraldus, Vita Rem. c. 3, 4, 5 (vol. vii. p. 17 et seqq. Dimock). Giraldus is, I believe, the only writer who makes a saint of Remigius. He enlarges on the effects of Remigius’ preaching, and consequently on the wickedness of those to whom he had to preach.

[869] Giraldus, Vit. Rem. ch. v. “Prolem propriam quam genuerat, nepotes etiam et neptes, alienigenis in servitutem detestanda avaritia venalem ex consuetudine prostituebant.” Cf. N. C. vol. iv. p. 381, and the stories in Will. Malms. ii. 200, about Godwine’s supposed first wife. See N. C. vol. i. p. 737.

[870] I mentioned in N. C. vol. iv. p. 212, that Lincoln minster grew out of an earlier church of Saint Mary. The history of John of Schalby printed by Mr. Dimock shows that this elder parish church went on within the minster. This is a very important case of a double church. See Giraldus, vii. xxx. 194, 209.

[871] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 369.

[872] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 355.

[873] Giraldus, Vit. Rem. ch. iv. “Operam erga regem et archiepiscopum, excambium Eboracensi pro Lindeseia donantes, prudenter effectui, Deo cooperante mancipavit. Et sic Lindeseiam terramque totam inter Widhemam scilicet Lincolniæ fluvium et Humbriam diocesi suæ provinciæque Cantuariensi viriliter adjecit.” This is Giraldus’ improvement on the local record copied by John of Schalby (Giraldus, vii. 194); “Datis per regem prædictum Eboracensi archiepiscopo in excambium possessionibus, totam Lyndesyam suæ diocesi et provinciæ Cantuariensi conjunxit.” It must be remembered that a bishopric of Lindesey had once been set up by the Northumbrian Ecgfrith. See Bæda, iv. 12.

[874] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 90, 354. This seems to be delicately referred to in the record copied by John of Schalby (Giraldus, vii. 193); “Remigius natione Normannus ac monachus Fiscanensis, qui ob certam causam venerat cum eodem [Willielmo rege] in episcopum Dorkecestrensem.”

[875] So says Florence. Remigius is eager to dedicate his church, “quia sibi diem mortis imminere sentiebat.” Thomas objects, “affirmans eam in sua parochia esse constructam.” “At rex Willelmus junior, pro pecunia quam ei Remigius dederat, totius fere Angliæ episcopis mandavit ut, in unum convenientes, septennis idibus Maii ecclesiam dedicarent.” Of course there is nothing about the bribe in Giraldus, nor yet in William of Malmesbury, Gest. Pont. 313, where the King’s order to the bishops is issued “magnanimi viri”—Remigius has got the King’s own epithet—“hortatu.” Matthew Paris, in the Historia Anglorum, i. 42, credits the Red King with an unlooked-for degree of zeal; “Postea rex Willelmus, cujus consilio et auxilio ecclesia illa fuit a primo loco suo remota, et quam pro anima patris sui [this at least is characteristic] multis ditaverat possessionibus, procuravit ut ea magnifice consummaretur.”

[876] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 313. “Solus Rotbertus Herefordensis venire abnuerat, et certa inspectione siderum dedicationem tempore Remigii non processuram viderat, nec tacuerat.”

[877] On the exact date, see Mr. Dimock’s note to Giraldus, vii. 20. Ascension Day came on the feast of Saint John ante Portam Latinam.

[878] “Ecclesiæ per hoc remansit dedicatio.” William of Malmesbury (u. s.) says, “Rem dilatam successor ejus non graviter explevit, utpote qui in labores alterius delicatus intrasset.” There seems to be no mention of this in the Lincoln writers.

[879] Giraldus (vii. 22–31) has fifteen chapters, very short ones certainly, of the miracles of Remigius. One takes most to the healings of the crippled women Leofgifu and Ælfgifu; Remigius “huic præcipue languori se propitium dedit.” A Norman, Richard by name, who tried to pull a hair from the beard of the saint’s uncorrupted body (cf. N. C. vol. iii. p. 32), became crippled himself. But a certain deaf and dumb Jewess, who came to blaspheme—doubtless mentally—was smitten to the earth and suddenly endowed with hearing and speech, beginning by uttering the name of Remigius in French. “Ex quo patet, quia non propter merita semper aut devotionem, sed ut manifestetur gloria Dei, miracula fiunt.” She was baptized by Bishop Alexander, and was carried about by him hither and thither to declare the praises of his predecessor.

[880] See Appendix R.

[881] See Bæda, Hist. Eccl. iv. 29. But we have a more distinct notice in the Life of Saint Cuthberht, c. 27 (ii. 101 Stevenson), of “Lugubalia civitas, quæ a populis Anglorum corrupte Luel vocatur.” In Ecgfrith’s day there might be seen “mœnia civitatis, fonsque in ea miro quondam Romanorum opere extractus.”

[882] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 58, 576.

[883] Ib. vol. i. pp. 63, 580.

[884] See N. C. vol. i. p. 647.

[885] Flor. Wig. 1092. “Hæc civitas, ut illis in partibus aliæ nonnullæ, a Danis paganis ante cc. annos diruta, et usque ad id tempus mansit deserta.”

[886] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 134.

[887] Chron. Petrib. 1092. “On þisum geare se cyng W. mid mycelre fyrde ferde horð to Cardeol, and þa burh geæðstaþelede, and þone castel arerde, and Dolfin út adraf, þe æror þær þæs landes weold, and þone castel mid his mannum gesette.” Florence seems to connect this with the unwrought ceremony at Lincoln; “His actis, rex in Northymbriam profectus, civitatem quæ Brytannice Cairleu, Latine Lugubalia vocatur, restauravit et in ea castellum ædificavit.” Orderic brings together the old and the new when he speaks (917 B) in David’s time of “Carduilum validissimum oppidum, quod Julius Cæsar, ut dicunt, condidit.”

[888] The Chronicler goes on; “And syððan hider suð gewænde, and mycele mænige cyrlisces folces mid wifan and mid orfe þyder sænde þær to wunigenne þæt land to tilianne.” So Henry of Huntingdon, vii. 2; “Rex reædificavit civitatem Carleol, et ex australibus Angliæ partibus illuc habitatores transmisit.” Florence leaves out both the colonization and the driving out of Dolfin.

[889] See Appendix R.

[890] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 858.

[891] See Appendix R.

[892] On the bishopric, see N. C. vol. v. p. 230.

[893] On Henry’s election at Domfront, see Appendix P.

[894] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 287; vol. iii. p. 165.

[895] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 198.

[896] See Appendix P.

[897] See Appendix P.

[898] See Appendix P.

[899] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 253.

[900] See above, p. 213.

[901] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 228.

[902] Will. Gem. viii. 4. “Quia in hoc negotio et in aliisque plerisque suis necessitatibus Hugo comes Cestrensis ei fidelis exstiterat, concessit ei ex integro castellum quod sancti Jacobi appellatum est, in quo idem comes tunc temporis nihil aliud habebat, præter custodiam munitionis istius oppidi.” He goes on to describe the building of the castle, in words partly borrowed from William of Poitiers, and the grant to Richard of Avranches. On Richard, see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 209, 296.

[903] During this chapter, the authorities for the life of Anselm become of primary importance. We have the invaluable help of the two works of Anselm’s friend and faithful companion, the English monk Eadmer, afterwards Bishop-elect of Saint Andrews. Both Orderic and William of Malmesbury speak of Eadmer with the deepest reverence, and cut short their own accounts of Anselm, referring to his. He first wrote the Historia Novorum, and then the Vita Anselmi as a kind of supplement, to bring in certain points more purely personal to his hero. The subject of the Historia Novorum we might call “Anselm and his Times.” The subject of the Vita is naturally Anselm himself. Eadmer’s history is of course most minute and most trustworthy for all that concerns Anselm; other matters he cuts short. In most cases one can see his reasons; but it is not easy to see why he should have left out the mission of Geronto recorded by Hugh of Flavigny (see Appendix AA). Along with the works of Eadmer, we have also a precious store in the Letters of Anselm himself (see Appendix Y), which, besides the picture which they give of the man, throw a flood of light on the history. All these materials, with the other writings of Anselm, will be found in two volumes of Migne’s Patrologia, 158 and 159. I have used this edition for the Letters and for the Life; the Historia Novorum I have gone on quoting in the edition of Selden.

I need hardly say that Anselm’s English career, with which alone I am concerned, is only one part of his many-sided character. I have kept mainly to the history of Anselm in England; I have cut short both his early life and even the time of his first banishment. With his theology and philosophy I have not ventured to meddle at all. Anselm has had no lack of biographers from the more general point of view; Hasse (Anselm von Canterbury, Leipzig, 1852), Charles de Rémusat (Saint Anselme de Cantorbéry, Paris, 1853), Charma (Saint-Anselme, Paris, 1853), Croset-Mouchet (S. Anselme d’Aoste, Archevêque de Cantorbéry, Paris, 1859). I have made some use of all these; but the value even of Hasse and De Rémusat for my strictly English purpose is not great. M. Croset-Mouchet writes with a pleasant breeze of local feeling from the Prætorian Augusta, but he is utterly at sea as to everything in our island.

In our own tongue the life of Anselm has been treated by a living and a dead friend of my own, holding the same rank in the English Church. Dean Hook, I must say with regret, utterly failed to do justice to Anselm. This is the more striking, as he did thorough justice to Thomas. From Dr. Hook’s point of view it needed an effort to do justice to either, a smaller effort in the case of Anselm, a greater in the case of Thomas. As sometimes happens, he made the greater effort, but not the smaller. I am however able to say that he came to know Anselm better before he died. Dean Church, on the other hand, has given us an almost perfect example of a short sketch of such a subject. The accuracy of the tale is as remarkable as the beauty of the telling. It lacks only the light which is thrown on the story of Anselm by the earlier story of William of Saint-Calais. It is most important to remember that Anselm was not the first to appeal to the Pope.

[904] See N. C. vol. v. p. 131.

[905] Ib. p. 135.

[906] Ib. vol. iv. p. 521, and see Appendix S.

[907] See the extract from Orderic (678 C) in Appendix S.

[908] See Appendix S.

[909] So Liebermann truly remarks (Einleitung in den Dialogus de Scaccario, 40). He adds; “Diese pflegten die Priesterweihe möglichst spät zu empfangen; desto eifriger erjagten sie fette Pfründen.”

[910] Florence (1100) notices emphatically that the doings of Flambard were done “contra jus ecclesiasticum, et sui gradus ordinem, presbyter enim erat.” So he is marked by Anselm (Epp. iv. 2) as “sacerdos.”

[911] See Appendix S. The story about Flambard’s mother, which Sir Francis Palgrave suggests may have come from a ballad, is told by Orderic in another place (787 A); “Mater, quæ sortilega erat et cum dæmone crebro locuta, ex cujus nefaria familiaritate unum oculum amiserat,” One thinks of a later dabbler in mischief; “Our minnie’s sair mis-set, after her ordinar, sir—she’ll hae had some quarrel wi’ her auld gudeman—that’s Satan, ye ken, sirs.” William of Malmesbury (Gesta Regum, iv. 314) calls him “fomes cupiditatum, Ranulfus clericus, ex infimo genere hominum lingua et calliditate provectus ad summum.” In the Gesta Pontificum, 274, he is more guarded, and says only “ex quo ambiguum genere.”

[912] See Appendix S.

[913] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 522.

[914] See Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 348.

[915] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 687.

[916] Will. Malms. iv. 314. “Is, si quando edictum regium processisset ut nominatum tributum Anglia penderet, duplum adjiciebat.”

[917] Ib. “Subinde, cachinnantibus quibusdam ac dicentibus, solum esse hominem qui sciret sic agitare ingenium nec aliorum curaret odium dummodo complacaret dominum.” This is one of the passages where William of Malmesbury thought it wise to soften what he first wrote. For “cachinnantibus quibusdam ac dicentibus” some manuscripts read “cachinnante rege ac dicente.”

[918] See Appendix U.

[919] See N. C. vol. v. p. 430.

[920] Will. Malms. iv. 314. “Invictus causidicus, et tam verbis tam rebus immodicus.” One thinks of Lanfranc’s successes in the law-courts of Pavia (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 226); but knowledge of the Imperial law was a matter of professional learning; with the simpler law of England age and experience were enough.

[921] See Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 384, and Appendix T.

[922] Chron. Petrib. 1099. “Rannulfe his capellane … þe æror ealle his gemot ofer eall Engleland draf and bewiste.”

[923] See N. C. vol. v. p. 445.

[924] Will. Malms. iv. 314. “Juxta in supplices ut in rebelles furens.”

[925] See Appendix T.

[926] See the extract from Orderic, 786 C, in Appendix T.

[927] See above, p. 198.

[928] See N. C. vol. v. p. 398.

[929] As in the case of the general redemption of lands (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 25) and the great confiscation and distribution in the midwinter Gemót of 1067 (ib. p. 127).

[930] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “Forðan þe he ælces mannes gehadodes and læwedes yrfenuma beon wolde.”

[931] William of Malmesbury (v. 393) seems to sum up the reforms of Henry in the words “injustitias a fratre et Rannulfo institutas prohibuit.” “Justitiæ” is a technical phrase (see N. C. vol. iv. pp. 559, 560). “Injustitiæ,” as here used, is something like our “unlaw” and “ungeld.”

[932] Revised Statutes, i. 725. By some chance this statute is printed in this collection, which commonly leaves out the statutes which are of most historical importance.

[933] I borrow this phrase from the story of Count William of Evreux in Orderic, 814 C (see Appendix K), though he was not to be given in quite the same sense.

[934] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 373–381.

[935] See the charter of Henry, Select Charters, 97; “Et omnes malas consuetudines quibus regnum Angliae injuste opprimebatur inde aufero, quas malas consuetudines ex parte hic pono.” He then goes through the grievances in order, relief, marriage, wardship, and the rest.

[936] I borrow our ancient word lænland, which survives in the German lehn.

[937] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 379, 867.

[938] Select Charters, 97. “Si quis baronum, comitum meorum sive aliorum qui de me tenent, mortuus fuerit, hæres suus non redimet terram suam sicut faciebat tempore fratris mei, sed justa et legitima relevatione relevabit eam.”

[939] Ib. “Et si quis baronum vel hominum meorum infirmabitur, sicut ipse dabit vel dare disponet pecuniam suam, ita datam esse concedo. Quod si ipse præventus armis vel infirmitate, pecuniam suam non dederit vel dare disposuerit, uxor sua sive liberi aut parentes, et legitimi homines ejus, eam pro anima ejus dividant, sicut eis melius visum fuerit.”

[940] Select Charters, 97. “Et terræ et liberorum custos erit sive uxor sive alius propinquorum qui justius esse debeat.”

[941] See Tractatus de Legibus, vii. 9. 10; and Phillips, Englische Reichs- und Rechtsgeschichte, ii. 204.

[942] See N. C. vol. v. p. 374.

[943] This was pointed out by Hallam, Middle Ages, i. 128, ed. 1846.

[944] See N. C. vol. v. p. 381.

[945] See above, p. 81.

[946] See above, p. 133.

[947] Select Charters, 97. “Similiter et homines baronum meorum justa et legitima relevatione relevabunt terras suas de dominis suis…. Et præcipio quod barones mei similiter se contineant erga filios et filias vel uxores hominum suorum.”

[948] See above, p. 153.

[949] Select Charters, 97. “Omnia placita et omnia debita quæ fratri meo debebantur condono, exceptis rectis firmis meis et exceptis illis quæ pacta erant pro aliorum hæreditatibus vel pro eis rebus quæ justius aliis contingebant.”

[950] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 429, 821. Eadmer says emphatically in the Preface to the Historia Novorum; “Ex eo quippe quo Willelmus Normanniæ comes terram illam [Angliam] debellando sibi subegit, nemo in ea episcopus vel abbas ante Anselmum factus est qui non primo fuerit homo regis, ac de manu illius episcopatus vel abbatiæ investituram per dationem virgæ pastoralis suscepit.” He excepts the bishops of Rochester, who received investiture from the Archbishop of Canterbury, their lord as well as their metropolitan.

A distinct witness to the antiquity of the royal rights in England is borne by William of Malmesbury (v. 417), where he is speaking of the controversy in Henry the First’s time. The King refused to yield to the new claims of the Pope, “non elationis ambitu, sed procerum et maxime comitis de Mellento instinctu, qui, in hoc negotio magis antiqua consuetudine quam recti tenore rationem reverberans allegabat multum regiæ majestati diminui, si omittens morem antecessorum, non investiret electum per baculum et annulum.”

Another remarkable witness is given by one of the continuators of Sigebert (Sigeberti Auctarium Ursicampinum, Pertz, vi. 471). He records the death of Lanfranc under a wrong year, 1097, and adds; “Anselmus abbas Beccensis, pro sua sanctitate et doctrina non solum in Normannia, sed etiam in Anglia jam celeberrimus, successit in præsulatu. Qui licet a rege Willelmo et principibus terre totiusque ecclesiæ conventu susceptus honorifice fuisset, multas tamen molestias et tribulationes postmodum sub ipso rege passus est pro statu ecclesiæ corrigendo. Nam reges Angliæ hanc injustam legem jam diu tenuerant, ut electos ecclesiæ præsules ipsi per virgam pastoralem ecclesiis investirent.”

This is of course written by the lights of Henry the First’s reign, as Anselm never objected to the royal investiture in the time of Rufus.

[951] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 588.

[952] Ib. p. 590.

[953] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 93, 601.

[954] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 372.

[955] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 37.

[956] See Appendix W.

[957] This comes in the great passage under 1100; “Godes cyrcean he nyðerade, and þa bisceoprices and abbotrices þe þa ealdras on his dagan feollan, ealle he hi oððe wið feo gesealde, oððe on his agenre hand heold and to gafle gesette.”

[958] See the passage quoted from Eadmer in Appendix W.

[959] See Appendix W.

[960] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 505, 527; vol. ii. p. 69.

[961] See Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 299. We have come across a good many cases which illustrate the difficulty of getting back church lands, even when they had been granted away only for a season. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 565; vol. iv. p. 803.

[962] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 617.

[963] See Appendix W.

[964] See above, p. 298.

[965] Ann. Wint. 1097. “Radulfus xvi. ecclesias carentes pastoribus sub tutela sua habebat, episcopatus, et abbatias, quas ad extremam paupertatem perduxit. Ecclesiæ quibus pastores præerant, dabant singulis annis regi ccc. vel cccc. marcas, aliæ plus, aliæ vero minus. In tanta erant tam ordinati miseria quam laici, quod tædebat eos vitæ eorum.” The annalist had said a little earlier (1092), in nearly the same words, “Prædictus Radulphus, vir quo in malo nemo subtilior, ecclesias sibi commissas exspoliavit bonis omnibus, et divites simul et pauperes [see p. 341] ad tantam deduxit inopiam, ut mallent mori quam sub ejus vivere dominatu.”

[966] See Appendix W.

[967] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 383, 385, 481.

[968] Ann. Wint. 1092. “Odo abbas abbatiam dimisit, nolens eam de rege more sæcularium tenere.” Here is a distinct protest against the new tenure.

[969] Ib. 1100. “Odoni reddidit [Henricus] abbatiam Certesiæ.”

[970] Chron. Petrib. 1100.

[971] Take two cases at random with a great interval between them, the vacancy of the see of Lincoln under Henry the Second, and that of Oxford, which one might have thought hardly worth keeping vacant, under Elizabeth. Hugh Curwin (see Godwin, 405) died in 1568, and his successor John Underhill was not appointed till 1589.

[972] Orderic (764 A) gives a picture of the kind of men who became bishops under this system; “Sic utique capellani regis et amici præsulatus Angliæ adepti sunt, et nonnulli ex ipsis præposituras ad opprimendos inopes, sibique augendas opes nihilominus tenuerunt…. Plerumque leves et indocti eliguntur ad regimen ecclesiæ tenendum, non pro sanctitate vitæ vel ecclesiasticorum eruditione dogmatum liberaliumve peritia litterarum, sed nobilium pro gratia parentum et potentum favore amicorum.”

[973] See N. C. vol. v. p. 224.

[974] Ib.

[975] See Stubbs, Const. Hist. vol. iii. pp. 318, 319. He gives amongst the reasons for the difference; “The abbots were not so influential as the bishops in public affairs, nor was the post equally desirable as the reward for public service; with a very few exceptions the abbacies were much poorer than the bishoprics, and involved a much more steady attention to local duties, which would prevent attendance at court.”

[976] This story has no better authority than that of the Hyde writer (299); still it is, to say the least, remarkable that it should be told of William Rufus. But there is an element of fun in the tale, and the Red King may for once have preferred a joke to a bribe. The description of the three monks at all events is good; “Cum coram rege astarent pariter, et uno plura promittente, alius pluriora promitteret, rex sagaciter cuncta perscrutans, tacentem monachum tertium quid quæsivit, ille se nil omnino promittere aut dare respondit, sed ad hoc tantum venisse ut abbatem suum cum honore suscipiendo domum deduceret.”

[977] See Stephens, Memorials of Chichester, p. 47.

[978] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 666.

[979] On the chronology, see Appendix X.

[980] I have already sketched his career, N. C. vol. iv. p. 420.

[981] So says Bartholomew Cotton, in his History of the Norwich Bishops; Hist. Angl., ed. Luard, p. 389; “Hic prius fuit prior Fiscanni, postea abbas Ramesseye, et pater suus Robertus abbas Wintoniæ. Hic Herbertus in pago Oxymensi natus, Fiscanni monachus, post ejusdem loci prioratum strenue administratum, translatus in Angliam a rege Willelmo, qui secundus ex Normannis obtinuit imperium, Ramesseye abbatis jure prælatus est.”

[982] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 36, 747.

[983] See Appendix X.

[984] See Appendix X.

[985] Ann. Wint. 1088. “Radulfo abbate Wintoniæ defuncto, commisit rex abbatiam Radulfo Passeflabere capellano suo.”

[986] See Appendix X.

[987] See Appendix X.

[988] Mon. Angl. ii. 431.

[989] See Appendix X.

[990] “Latenter,” says the extract from Florence quoted in Appendix X.

[991] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 437. So in Eadmer, Vit. Ans. ii. 3. 23. William Rufus says, “Se illum [Urbanum] pro papa non tenere, nec suæ consuetudinis esse, ut absque sua electione alicui liceret in regno suo papam nominare.”

[992] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 118, 464; vol. iv. p. 354.

[993] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 376, 820.

[994] See above, p. 312.

[995] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 661, 662.

[996] In the poem on the captivity of Ælfheah in the Chronicles, 1011, he is

“Se þe ær wæs heafod
Angelcynnes
And Cristendomes.”

[997] Cf. Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 211 et seqq. with 245.

[998] So we read of Henry the First in Florence, 1102; “Duos de clericis duobus episcopatibus investivit, Rogerium videlicet cancellarium episcopatu Saresbyriensi, et Rogerium larderarium suum pontificatu Herefordensi.”

[999] See N. C. vol. v. p. 662, and Contemporary Review, 1878, pp. 493, 496.

[1000] See below, p. 418.

[1001] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 372.

[1002] We shall come to this again. This state of feeling is implied in Eadmer’s whole description of the time immediately before Anselm’s appointment.

[1003] We have seen even under the reign of the Confessor (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 69, and above, p. 348) a notion afloat that the archbishopric of Canterbury was to be had by bribery; but it was to be bribery carried on in some very underhand way, not in the form of open gifts either to King Eadward or to Earl Godwine. The appointment of Stigand (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 347) might be said to be the reward of temporal services; but they were services done to the whole nation, and the reward was bestowed by the nation itself.

[1004] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 69. Cf. Appendix I.

[1005] See above, p. 352.

[1006] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 436.

[1007] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. ii. 3. 23. The King and his courtiers, “quid dicerent non habentes, eum in regem blasphemare uno strepitu conclamavere, quandoquidem ausus erat in regno ejus, nisi eo concedente, quidquam vel Deo ascribere.”

[1008] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 16. “Et adjecit, Sed per sanctum vultum de Luca (sic enim jurare consueverat) [see Appendix G] nec ipse hoc tempore nec alius quis archiepiscopus erit, me excepto.”

[1009] The action of Flambard in the matter comes out most strongly in the Winchester Annals, 1089, where a motive is assigned for Flambard’s zeal; “Hoc anno commisit rex Radulfo Passefiabere archiepiscopatum Cantuariæ, defuncto Lanfranco. Ipse autem regi quicquid inde aliquo modo lucrari poterat, ut de ejus cogitaret promotione, donavit.” But he had to wait eight years for his reward.

[1010] I refer to the well-known outburst of William of Malmesbury, iv. 314, some passages of which I have quoted in Appendix G.

[1011] Will. Malms. iv. 314. “Nullus dives nisi nummularius, nullus clericus nisi causidicus, nullus presbyter nisi (ut verbo parum Latino utar) firmarius.”

[1012] Of the birthplace of Anselm and its buildings, some of which must have been fresh in his childhood, I attempted a little picture in my Historical and Architectural Sketches. The nature of the country is brought out with all clearness by Dean Church, Anselm, p. 8. Before him it had stirred up the local patriotism of M. Croset-Mouchet to the best things in his book.

[1013] I must venture to admire, though the poet has forsaken the natural Saturnian of Nævius and Walter Map for the foreign metre of Homer, the lines in which one of the biographers of Saint Hugh (Metrical Life, Dimock, p. 2) describes the country of his hero;

“Imperialis ubi Burgundia surgit in Alpes,

Et condescendit Rhodano, convallia vernant,

Duplicibus vestitur humus; sunt gramina vestis

Publica, sunt flores vestis sollennis, et uno

Illa colore nitent, sed mille coloribus illi.”

[1014] Eadmer (Vit. Ans. i. 1. 1.) carefully marks the geography of Aosta. It is “Augusta civitas, confinis Burgundiæ et Langobardiæ.” I have collected some passages on this head in Historical Geography, p. 278. The French writers De Rémusat (Saint Anselme, 21), Charma (4), and specially M. Croset-Mouchet (55), as a neighbour, seem to have caught the Burgundian birth of Anselm better than the English. Yet Charma, who knows that Aosta was Burgundian, calls Anselm an Italian, perhaps on account of the Lombard birth of his father.

[1015] M. Croset-Mouchet (57) is very anxious to connect Anselm’s mother with the house of the Counts of Savoy. He gives a genealogical table at the end of his book, where the pedigree of Ermenberga is traced up to Ardoin the Third, Count of Turin and Marquess in Italy. He seems however to be not very certain about the matter, and it does not greatly affect Anselm’s career either at Bec or at Canterbury.

[1016] Pope Urban (Hist. Nov. 45) counsels Anselm to avoid the unhealthy season at Rome, “quia urbis istius aër multis et maxime peregrinæ regionis hominibus nimis est insalubris.” Later in the story (Hist. Nov. 72), Ivo of Chartres gives him a like piece of advice about Italy generally; “Accepit ab Ivone et a multis non spernendi consilii viris, satius fore cœptum iter in aliud tempus differendum, quam Italicis ardoribus ea se tempestate cum suis tradere cruciandum. Nimis etenim fervor æstatis ita ubique, sed maxime, ut ferebatur, in Italia, tunc temporis quæque torrebat, ut incolis vix tolerabilis, peregrinis vero gravis et importabilis.” The difference of air between Aosta and Rome or Italy generally does not depend upon the boundaries of kingdoms; but here Anselm is distinctly reckoned as a “peregrinus homo” in Italy no less than Eadmer or Ivo or Pope Urban himself.

[1017] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 441.

[1018] See above, p. 49, and N. C. vol. iv. p. 579.

[1019] Will. Malms. iv. 315. “Simul et supersedendum est in historia, quam reverendissimi Edmeri præoccupavit facundia.”

[1020] I feel towards Dean Church almost as William of Malmesbury felt towards Eadmer. But he of course looks at Anselm from a point of view somewhat different from mine. And he had not been led to notice that earlier action of William of Saint-Calais which from my point of view is all-important for the story of Anselm.

[1021] This beautiful story is told by Eadmer at the very beginning of the Life, i. 1. 2.

[1022] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. i. 1. 3. “Ille in suo proposito perstans oravit Deum, quatenus infirmari mereretur, ut vel sic ad monachicum quem desiderabat ordinem susciperetur.”

[1023] Will. Malms. Vita Wlst. 245. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 470. The confession of Anselm in this matter comes out in his sixteenth Meditation, p. 793 of Migne’s edition. The passage seems to imply more serious offences than would have been guessed from the more general words of Eadmer, i. 1. 4. The meditation is addressed to a sister. If this means his own sister Richeza or Richera, it must have been before her marriage with Burgundius. See his Epistles, iii. 43.

[1024] See William Fitz-Stephen, iii. 21, Robertson, and the remarkable story in William of Canterbury, i. 5, Robertson.

[1025] Vit. Ans. i. 1. 45. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 228.

[1026] Vit. Ans. i. 1. 6. He is made to say; “Ecce, inquit, monachus fiam. Sed ubi? Si Cluniaci vel Becci, totum tempus quod in discendis litteris posui, perdidi. Nam et Cluniaci districtio ordinis, et Becci supereminens prudentia Lanfranci, qui illic monachus est, me [al. mihi] aut nulli prodesse, aut nihil valere comprobabit. Itaque in tali loco perficiam quod dispono, in quo et scire meum possim ostendere, et multis prodesse.”

[1027] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 110. His election to the priorship is recorded in the Life, i. 2. 9. There is no mention of any such dislike to the promotion on Anselm’s part as is recorded at his later election as abbot. The whole account of Anselm’s monastic life, as given by Eadmer and followed by his modern biographers, is of the deepest interest. I have noticed only a few special points here and there.

[1028] See the story in the Life, i. 4. 30.

[1029] Ib. i. 4. 35. His name is given as Cadulus.

[1030] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. i. 36. The scene between the monks and the abbot-elect, the mutual prayers and prostrations, are very like to the later scene when he is named archbishop at Gloucester. The command of the Archbishop of Rouen comes out emphatically; “Vicit quoque et multo maxime vicit præceptum, quod, ut supra retulimus, ei fuerat ab archiepiscopo Maurilio per obedientiam injunctum, videlicet, ut, si major prælatio quam illius prioratus exstiterat ipsi aliquando injungeretur, nullatenus eam suscipere recusaret.”

[1031] Ord. Vit. 530 B. “De hospitalitate Beccensium sufficienter eloqui nequeo. Interrogati Burgundiones et Hispani, aliique de longe seu de prope adventantes respondeant: et quanta benignitate ab eis suscepti fuerint, sine fraude proferant, eosque in similibus imitari sine fictione satagant. Janua Beccensium patet omni viatori, eorumque panis nulli denegatur charitative petenti.”

[1032] Ib. A. “Fama sapientiæ hujus didascoli per totam Latinitatem divulgata est, et nectare bonæ opinionis ejus occidentalis Ecclesia nobiliter debriata est.”

[1033] See Appendix Y.

[1034] See Appendix Y.

[1035] See Appendix Y.

[1036] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 366.

[1037] There is something amusing in the picture of the two in the Life of Gundulf, Anglia Sacra, ii. 275. “Anselmus, quia in scripturis eruditior erat, frequentior loquebatur. Gundulfus vero, quia in lacrimis profusior erat, magis fletibus rigabatur. Loquebatur ille; plorabat iste. Ille plantabat; iste rigabat. Divina ille proferebat eloquia; profunda iste trahebat suspiria. Christi vices ille, iste gerebat Mariæ.” There are not a few letters of Anselm addressed to Gundulf. See Appendix Y.

[1038] Among these was one of the men named Osbern—there would seem to be more than one—who play a part in the life of Anselm. There is the Osbern mentioned in the Life, i. 2. 13, 14, as first the bitter enemy and then the chosen friend of Anselm. He seems to live and die at Bec, and after his death he appears to Anselm and tells him how the old serpent thrice rose up against him, but the Lord’s bearward, “ursarius Domini Dei” (comp. N. C. vol. ii. p. 26), saves him. Then there is the Osbern mentioned in the Letters, i. 57, 58. This last Osbern is demanded by Lanfranc for his monastery at Canterbury (“domnus Osbernus quem ad se reduci auctoritas vestra jubet”), and he is sent to Prior Henry at Christ Church with a letter of recommendation from Anselm. In this are the words, “domnus Osbernus vester, qui ad vos redit, pristinæ vitæ perversitatam sponte accusat et execratur.” This and a good deal more would exactly suit the Osbern of the Life, yet it is hardly possible that they can be the same. But this second Osbern may be the same as the one who writes the most remarkable letter to Anselm (iii. 2), on which see Appendix Y. Osbern, Osbiorn, is one of those names which are both English—or at least Danish—and Norman. That the second Osbern at least was English seems clear from Epp. i. 60, 65, where we hear of “domnus Hulwardus [Wulfward] Anglus, consobrinus domni Osberni.” Did Lanfranc claim all English monks anywhere?

[1039] Domesday, 69 b. “Totum manerium valet xii. libras; valebat xv. libras vivente Mathilde regina, quæ dedit eidem ecclesiæ.” There were six hides and a half in demesne, and one hide held by the church of the place.

[1040] Domesday, 159 b. “Valuit xl. solidos; modo lx. solidos. Hæc terra nunquam geldum reddidit.” This exceptional privilege, designed or casual, might become a ground of disputes.

[1041] Domesday, 34 b. “Sancta Maria de Bech tenet de dono Ricardi Totinges…. T. R. E. et modo val. c. solidos; cum recepit xx. solidos.” On these possessions of Bec in England during the reign of the Conqueror, see N. C. vol. iv. p. 440.

[1042] See Mon. Angl. vii. 1052. An earlier church of secular canons was changed by Gilbert of Clare into a cell of Bec. It was removed to Stoke in 1124, made denizen in 1395, and restored to seculars in 1415. See Mon. Angl. vi. 1415. Weedon Beck in Northamptonshire is also said to have had a cell of Bec, founded shortly after the Conquest. Weedon appears three times in Domesday, 223, 224 b, 227; but there is no mention of Bec. Ernulf of Hesdin is also said to have founded a cell to Bec at Ruislip in Middlesex, Mon. Angl. vii. 1050. Ruislip appears in Domesday, 129 b, as a possession of Ernulf, but there is no mention of Bec. The chief dependency of Bec in England, Oakburn in Wiltshire, does not claim an earlier date or founder than Matilda of Wallingford, daughter of Robert of Oily, in 1149.

[1043] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. i. 5. 37. “Abominabile quippe judicabat, si quidvis lucri assequeretur ex eo quod alius contra moderamina juris quavis astutia perdere posset. Unde neminem in placitis patiebatur a suis aliqua fraude circumveniri, observans ne cui faceret quod sibi fieri nollet.” Compare the cunning lawyers whom Abbot Adelelm found among the monks of Abingdon, N. C. vol. iv. p. 476.

[1044] Ib. “Delegatis monasterii causis curæ ac sollicitudini fratrum, de quorum vita et strenuitate certus erat.”

[1045] Ib. 41. “Cum igitur Anselmus, transito mari, Cantuariam veniret, pro sua reverentia et omnibus nota sanctitate, honorifice a conventu ecclesiæ Christi in ipsa civitate sitæ susceptus est.” His discourse to the monks is given at great length.

[1046] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 441.

[1047] Vit. Ans. i. 5. 41. “Accepta fraternitate monachorum, factus est inter eos unus ex eis. Degens per dies aliquot inter eos et quotidie, aut in capitulo, aut in claustro, mira quædam et illis adhuc temporibus insolita de vita et moribus monachorum coram eis rationabili facundia disserens.”

[1048] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 361.

[1049] Vit. Ans. u. s. “Privatim quoque aliis horis agebat, cum his qui profundioris ingenii erant, profundas eis de divinis nec non sæcularibus libris quæstiones proponens, propositasque exponens.”

[1050] Ib. “Quo tempore et ego ad sanctitatis ejus notitiam pervenire merui, ac, pro modulo parvitatis meæ, beata illius familiaritate utpote adolescens, qui tunc eram, non parum potiri.”

[1051] Ib. 6. 45. “Vadens et ad diversa monasteria monachorum, canonicorum, sanctimonialium, nec non ad curias quorumque nobilium, prout eum ratio ducebat, perveniens, lætissime suscipiebatur, et suscepto quæque charitatis obsequia gratissime ministrabantur.”

[1052] Ib. “Solito more cunctis se jucundum et affabilem exhibebat, moresque singulorum in quantum sine peccato poterat, in se suscipiebat.” Eadmer draws out the apostolic rule at some length, and gives specimens of Anselm’s discourses to these different classes.

[1053] Vit. Ans. i. 6. 47. “Non eo, ut aliis mos est, docendi modo exercebat, sed longe aliter singula quæque sub vulgaribus et notis exemplis proponens, solidæque rationis testimonio fulciens, ac remota omni ambiguitate, in mentibus auditorum deponens.”

[1054] Ib. “Lætabatur ergo quisquis illius colloquio uti poterat, quoniam in eo quodcumque petebatur divinum consilium in promptu erat.” He had said yet more strongly, “Corda omnium miro modo in amorem ejus vertebantur, et ad eum audiendum famelica aviditate replebantur.”

[1055] Ib. 48. He became “pro sua excellenti fama totius Angliæ partibus notus, ac pro reverenda sanctitate charus cunctis effectus.” And directly after, “Familiaris ergo ei dehinc Anglia facta est, et prout diversitas causarum ferebat, ab eo frequentata.”

[1056] No strictly physical miracle is alleged to have been wrought by Anselm’s own hands; but several stories are told by Eadmer in the sixth chapter of the first book of the Life, in which cures were believed to be done by water in which he had washed, and the like. In another class of stories in the third chapter, the bodily wants of Anselm or his friends are supplied in an unexpected way, but without any physical miracle. Thus the well-known Walter Tirel, entertaining Anselm, makes excuses for the lack of fish. The saint announces that a fine sturgeon is on the road, and it presently comes.

Eadmer’s book of the Miracles of Anselm, which forms No. xvi. in Dr. Liebermann’s collection, consists of wonders of the usual kind at or after Anselm’s death.

[1057] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 704, 713.

[1058] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. i. 6. 47. “Non fuit comes in Anglia seu comitissa, vel ulla persona potens, quæ non judicaret se sua coram Deo merita perdidisse, si contingeret se Anselmo abbati Beccensi gratiam cujusvis officii tunc temporis non exhibuisse.”

[1059] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 491. So Hist. Nov. 15, “Certe amicus meus familiaris ab antiquo comes Cestrensis Hugo fuit.”

[1060] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 14. “Jam enim, quodam quasi præsagio mentes quorundam tangebantur, et licet clanculo, nonnulli adinvicem loquebantur, eum, si Angliam iret, archiepiscopum Cantuariensem fore.” William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 78), “Erat tamen spes nonnulla his malis posse imponi finem, si quando Cantuariensem archiepiscopum viderent, qui esset os omnium, vexillifer prævius, umbo publicus. Spargebaturque in vulgus rumor, haud equidem sine mente et numine Dei, ut arbitror, Anselmum fore archiepiscopum, virum penitus sanctum, anxie doctum, felicem futuram hujus hominis benedictionibus Angliam.”

[1061] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 312, 491. We might have guessed from Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 14) that it is Saint Werburh’s of which he is speaking, when he says, “Hugo comes Cestrensis volens in sua quadam ecclesia monachorum abbatiam instituere, missis Beccum nuntiis, rogavit abbatem Anselmum Angliam venire, locum inspicere, eumque per monachos suos regulari conversatione informare.” But it is William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 78) who distinctly mentions Chester. Anselm comes to England, “ut abbatiam apud Cestrum firmaret, quam ejusdem civitatis comes Hugo monachis potissimum Beccensibus implere volebat.”

[1062] He had to dwell among “belluini cœtus.” See N. C. vol. iv. p. 491, and above, p. 127.

[1063] Vit. Ans. ii. 1. 1. “Invitatus, imo districta interpellatione adjuratus, ab Hugone Cestrensi comite, multisque aliis Anglorum regni principibus, qui eum animarum suarum medicum et advocatum elegerant.”

[1064] Ib. “Insuper ecclesiæ suæ prece atque præcepto pro communi utilitate coactus.”

[1065] Hist. Nov. 14. “Quia hoc [his purpose not to accept the archbishopric] non omnes intelligebant (providendo bona, non tantum coram Deo, sed etiam coram omnibus hominibus), Angliam intrare noluit, ne se hujus rei gratia intrasse quisquam suspicaretur.”

[1066] Ib. 15. “Si timor suscipiendi archiepiscopatus ne veniat eum detinet, fateor, inquit, in fide mea, quoniam id, quod rumor inde jactet, nihil est.”

[1067] Hist. Nov. 15. “Tertio mandat illi hæc, si non veneris, revera noveris, quia nunquam in vita æterna in tanta requie eris quin perpetuo doleas te ad me non venisse.” There is something very striking in the frequent mixture of strong faith with evil practice in men of Earl Hugh’s stamp. But his cleaving to such a man as Anselm is at least more enlightened than the fetish-worship of Lewis the Eleventh. Cf. Church, Anselm, 173.

[1068] Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 15) gives his reflexions at some length. They are summed up in the words of William of Malmesbury, Gest. Pont. 78; “Cæterum quid homines loquerentur ipsi viderent, cum quantum sua interesset, eorum obloquia, honesta diu conversatione vitasset.” He adds, “Simul et jam rumor de ejus archiepiscopatu, minas olim intentans, longinquitate temporis detepuerat.”

[1069] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 79. “Ut prædiorum suorum vectigalia lenito intercessionibus suis rege levigaret.”

[1070] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 15. Several letters of Anselm are addressed to her. See Appendix Y.

[1071] Hist. Nov. 15. “Mandatum est illi a Beccensibus ne, si peccato inobedientiæ notari nollet, ultra monasterium repeteret, donec transito mari, suis in Anglia rebus subveniret.”

[1072] “Citato gressu, ad comitem venit,” says Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 15), where he leaves out the interview with the King which he describes in the Life.

[1073] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 79. “Hugo … quanquam in supremis positus, omnium in confessione supercilium recusans, Anselmum expetebat; veteris amicitiæ pignus apud eum depositurus si moreretur.”

[1074] Vit. Ans. ii. 1. 1. “Cum quasi ex præsagio futurorum multi et monachi et laici conclamarent illum archiepiscopum fore, summo mane a loco decessit, nec ullo pacto acquiescere petentibus, ut ibi festum celebraret, voluit.”

[1075] Vit. Ans. ii. 1. 1. “Rex ipse solio exsilit, et ad ostium domus viro gaudens occurrit, ac in oscula ruens per dexteram eum ad sedem suam perducit.”

[1076] Ib. “Regem de his quæ fama de eo ferebat Anselmus arguere cœpit, nec quidquam eorum quæ illi dicenda esse sciebat, silentio pressit. Pene etenim totius regni homines omnes talia quotidie nunc clam nunc palam de eo dicebant, qualia regiam dignitatem nequaquam decebant.”

[1077] The language of Eadmer quoted in the last note is quite vague. In William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 79) we get one of those remarkable cases in which he first wrote something strong, and then altered it. He seems (see his editor’s note) to have first written, “Data secreti copia, flagitiorum obscœnitatem quibus regem accusabat fama incunctanter aperuit.” He then struck out the strong words in Italics and changed them to the vague “cuncta.”

[1078] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 79. “Famæ licentiæ non se posse obviare dictitans; ceterum sanctum virum non debere illa credere. Neque enim procaciore responso exsufflare hominem tunc volebat, sciens quanti eum pater et mater pendere soliti essent dum adviverent.”

[1079] Eadmer, in the passage quoted above, distinctly implies that nothing was said about the affairs of Bec, and adds, “Finito colloquio divisi ab invicem sunt, et de ecclesiæ suæ negotiis ea vice ab Anselmo nihil actum est.” William of Malmesbury, on the other hand, describes Anselm as speaking of them at this interview (“necessitates quoque suas modeste allegans”), and William as settling them as Anselm wished (“ille omnia negotia Beccensis ecclesiæ ad arbitrium rectoris componens”). I should infer from this, and from the words “ea vice” in Eadmer, that things were settled in the end as the monks of Bec wished, but not at this interview. William of Malmesbury is never very strict as to chronological order.

[1080] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 15. “Post hæc in Normanniam regredi volens, negata a rege licentia, copiam id agendi habere non potuit.” It is not easy, as Dean Church remarks (Anselm, 175), to see why the King’s leave was needed for the subject of another prince to go back to his own country.

[1081] Ib. “Sic hujus temporis spatium transiit, ut de pontificatu Cantuariensi nihil ad eum vel de eo dictum actumve sit; ipseque sui periculi et antiqui timoris securus effectus fuerit.”

[1082] Eadmer tells the story, with the comment, “quod posteris mirum dictu fortasse videbitur.”

[1083] See N. C. vol. i. p. 435.

[1084] Eadmer, u. s. “Ipse, licet nonnihil exinde indignatus, tamen fieri quod petebatur permisit, dicens quod quidquid ecclesia peteret, ipse sine dubio pro nullo dimitteret quin faceret omne quod vellet.” Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 79. “Respondit ludibundus, risu iram dissimulans; ‘Orate quod vultis; ego faciam quod placebit, quia nullius unquam oratio voluntatem meam labefactabit.’” The oratio directa of William sounds as if it came nearer to the King’s actual words than the oratio obliqua of Eadmer. But we lose much in many of these stories from not having the Red King’s own vigorous French.

[1085] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 13. Anselm’s chief objection was that the making of prayers was a specially episcopal business; “Episcopi, ad quos ista maxime pertinebant, Anselmum super reipsa consuluerunt. Et quod ipse orationis agendæ modum et summam ordinaret, vix optinere suis precibus ab eo potuerant. Episcopis enim præferri in tali statuto ipse abbas fugiebat.”

[1086] Ib. “Institutæ igitur preces sunt per Anglorum ecclesias omnes.”

[1087] See Domesday, 163. The entry of Alvestone comes immediately before the entry of Berkeley.

[1088] This story is told by Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 15, 16) and William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 80). One would like to know the name of this “unus de principibus terræ, cum rege familiariter agens,” who held Anselm in such high esteem. If it had been Earl Hugh, one might expect that Eadmer would have said so.

[1089] Ib. “Nec illum quidem maxime, sicut mea multorumque fert opinio.”

[1090] Ib. “Obtestatus est rex quod manibus ac pedibus plaudens, in amplexum ejus accurreret, si ullam fiduciam haberet se ad illum posse ullatenus aspirare, et adjecit, Sed per sanctum vultum de Luca (sic enim jurare consueverat), nec ipse hoc tempore nec alius quis archiepiscopus erit, me excepto.”

[1091] Ib. “Hæc illum dicentem e vestigio valida infirmitas corripuit, et lecto deposuit, atque indies crescendo ferme usque ad exhalationem spiritus egit.” He mentions Gloucester directly after, but the minute geography comes from Florence (1093); “Rex Willelmus junior, in regia villa quæ vocatur Alwestan vehementi percussus infirmitate, civitatem Glawornam festinanter adiit, ibique per totam quadragesimam languosus jacuit.”

[1092] Here we have the pithy words of the Chronicle; “On þisum geare to þam længtene warð se cyng W. on Gleaweceastre to þam swiðe geseclod, þæt he wæs ofer eall dead gekyd.” So says Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 16); “Omnes totius regni principes coeunt; episcopi, abbates, et quique nobiles, nihil præter mortem ejus præstolantes.”

[1093] The good resolutions of the King come out with all force in the Chronicle; “And on his broke he Gode fela behæsa behét, his agen lif on riht to lædene, and Godes cyrcean griðian and friðian, and næfre má eft wið feo gesyllan, and ealle rihte lage on his þeode to habbene.” The exhortations come out most clearly in Eadmer; Florence seems to attribute them to the King’s lay counsellors; “Cum se putaret cito moriturum, ut ei sui barones suggesserint,” &c.

[1094] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 16. “Hac tempestate Anselmus inscius horum morabatur in quadam villa non longe a Glocestria ubi rex infirmabatur.”

[1095] Ib. “Ingreditur ad regem, rogatur quid consilii salubrius morientis animæ judicet. Exponi sibi primo postulat, quid se absente ab assistentibus ægro consultum sit. Audit, probat, et addit, scriptum est, Incipite Domino in confessione.” He goes on at somewhat further length on the duty of confession. There is something striking in the kind of professional air with which the duty is undertaken. The spiritual physician, called in from a distance, approves the treatment of the local practitioners, just as a physician of the body might do.

[1096] Ib. “Spondet in hoc fidem suam, et vades inter se et Deum facit episcopos suos, mittens, qui hoc votum suum Deo super altare sua vice promittant.”

[1097] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 16. “Scribitur edictum, regioque sigillo firmatur, quatenus captivi quicunque sunt in omni dominatione sua relaxentur, omnia debita irrevocabiliter remittantur, omnes offensiones antehac perpetratæ, indulta remissione, perpetuæ oblivioni tradantur.” More general provisions followed; “Promittuntur insuper omni populo bonæ et sanctæ leges, inviolabilis observatio juris, injuriarum gravis, et quæ terreat cæteros, examinatio.” We may specially regret that we have not the English text of this momentary Great Charter. Its language seems to assume, like the charter of Henry (see above, pp. 344, 392), that suits brought in the King’s name would be unjust, and that his claims for debts would be unjust also.

[1098] Ib. “Gaudetur a cunctis, benedicitur Deus in istis, obnixe oratur pro salute talis ac tanti regis.” This is the real language of the moment, which is weakened by William of Malmesbury, Gest. Pont. 80; “Plausu exceptum est verbum, ibatque clamor cælo bona et salutem regi optantium.”

[1099] So says the Chronicle; “to manegan mynstren land geuðe.”

[1100] There is something odd in the way in which the Chronicler and Florence couple the two prelates now appointed; “And þæt arcebiscoprice on Cantwarbyrig, þe ær on his agenre hand stód. Anselme betæhte, se wæs ær abbot on Bæc, and Rodbeard his cancelere þæt biscoprice on Lincolne.” That is to say, they cut the whole story short; or more truly they tell it on the same scale on which they tell other things, while we are used to Eadmer’s minute narrative of all that concerns Anselm.

[1101] See above, p. 13.

[1102] See Appendix Z.

[1103] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 16. They exhort the King to appoint. He consents willingly; “Sed cunctis ad nutum regis pendentibus, prænunciavit ipse et concordi voce subsequitur acclamatio omnium, abbatem Anselmum tali honore dignissimum.”

[1104] I think we may for a moment turn from the oratio obliqua of Eadmer to the vivid little picture in William of Malmesbury; “Ille cubito sese attollens, ‘Hunc,’ ait, ‘sanctum virum Anselmum eligo,’ ingenti subsecuto fragore faventium.” One is reminded of the death-bed of Eadward, as drawn in the Tapestry. See N. C. vol. iii. p. 13, note.

[1105] Eadmer, u. s. “Cum raperetur ad regem, ut per virgam pastoralem investituram archiepiscopatus de manu ejus susciperet, toto conamine restitit, idque multis obsistentibus causis nullatenus fieri posse asseruit.”

[1106] “Accipiunt eum episcopi, et ducunt seorsum de multitudine.”

[1107] “Per tyrannidem istius hominis.”

[1108] “In Deo pro nobis intende, et nos secularia tua disponemus pro te.”

[1109] “Abbas sum monasterii regni alterius.” “Regnum” of course means Normandy, an inaccurate phrase, but one that we have had already (see above, p. 25).

[1110] “Nihil est omnino, non erit quod intenditis.”

[1111] “Rapiunt hominem ad regem ægrotum, et pervicaciam ejus exponunt.”

[1112] “Contristatus est rex, pene ad suffusionem oculorum, et dixit ad eum, ‘O Anselme quid agis? Cur me pœnis æternis cruciandum tradis?’” He adds presently, “Certus sum enim quod peribo, si archiepiscopatum in meo dominio tenens, vitam finiero.”

[1113] “Regem turbas, turbatum penitus necas, quandoquidem illum jam morientem obstinacia tua exacerbare non formidas.”

[1114] Of Baldwin we often hear again; he seems to have been Anselm’s chief helper at Bec in temporal matters.

[1115] See above, p. 372.

[1116] “Virgam huc pastoralem, virgam, clamitant, pastoralem. Et arrepto brachio ejus dextro, alii renitentem trahere, alii impellere, lectoque jacentis cœperunt applicare.”

[1117] I am but translating Eadmer; “Indice levato, sed protinus ab eo reflexo, clausæ manui ejus baculus appositus est, et episcoporum manibus cum eadem manu compressus atque retentus.”

[1118] “Acclamante autem multitudine, ‘Vivat episcopus, vivat;’ episcopi cum clero sublimi voce hymnum Te Deum laudamus decantare cœpere.”

[1119] “Electum portaverunt pontificem potius quam duxerunt in vicinam ecclesiam.” On the works of Serlo, see N. C. vol. iv. p. 384.

[1120] “Ipso modis, quibus poterat, resistente, atque dicente, nihil est quod facitis, nihil est quod facitis.”

[1121] This is Anselm’s own comparison in his letter to the monks of Bec, Ep. iii. 1; “Quando me episcopi et abbates aliique primates ad ecclesiam trahentes reclamantem et contradicentem rapuerunt, ita ut dubium videri posset utrum sanum insani, an insanum traherent sani; nisi quia illi canebant et ego magis mortuo quam viventi colore similis stupore et dolore pallebam.” Presently he says; “Huic autem de me electioni, imo violentiæ, hactenus quantum potui, servata veritate, reluctatus sum.” The last word may be taken in its original physical sense.

[1122] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 18. “Gestis vero quæ in tali causa geri in ecclesia mos est, revertitur Anselmus ad regem.”

[1123] “Dico tibi, domine rex, quia ex hac tua infirmitate non morieris, ac pro hoc volo noveris quam bene corrigere poteris quod de me nunc actum est, quia nec concessi nec concedo ut ratum sit.”

[1124] The change of place is clearly marked in Eadmer. “Deducentibus eum episcopis, cum tota regni nobilitate, cubiculo excessit, conversusque ad eos, in hæc verba sciscitatus est.” The parable which follows is placed earlier by William of Malmesbury; but this is surely the right place.

[1125] 1 Cor. iii. 9.

[1126] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 18. “Hoc aratrum in Anglia duo boves cæteris precellentes regendo trahunt et trahendo regunt. Rex videlicet, et archiepiscopus Cantuariensis. Iste seculari justitia et imperio, ille divina doctrina et magisterio.” This must mean during the late reign.

[1127] “Horum boum unus, scilicet Lanfrancus archiepiscopus, mortuus est; et alius ferocitatem indomabilis tauri obtinens jam juvenis aratro prælatus, et vos loco mortui bovis, me vetulam ac debilem ovem cum indomito tauro conjungere vultis.”

[1128] “Indomabilis utique feritas tauri sic ovem lanæ et lactis et agnorum fertilem per spinas et tribulos hac et illac raptam, si jugo se non excusserit, dilacerabit.” So a little after; “Me, de quo lanam et lac verbi Dei, et agnos in servitium ejus, nonnulli possent habere.” The metaphor becomes passing strange when it is thus worked out in detail.

[1129] “Ad hospitium suum, dimissa curia, vadit.”

[1130] “Præcepit itaque rex, ut, sine dilatione ac diminutione, investiretur de omnibus ad archiepiscopatum pertinentibus intus et extra.” Eadmer goes on to speak about the city of Canterbury, the abbey of Saint Alban’s, and other things of which we shall have to speak again. But he can only mean that orders were given which were not immediately carried out; for the actual investiture was, as we shall see, delayed for some months.

[1131] Ep. iii. 3. “Ipsius namque inenarrabili potentia operante, dedit dominus noster rex Anglorum, consilio et rogatu principum suorum, cleri quoque et populi petitione et electione, domino abbati Anselmo Cantuariensis ecclesiæ gubernationem.” So says Anselm himself in his letter to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons, Ep. iii. 24; “Subdidi me dolens præcepto archiepiscopi mei et electioni totius Angliæ.”

[1132] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 591, 593.

[1133] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 19.

[1134] See Appendix Y.

[1135] Ep. iii. 8. “Reverendo domino nostro principe Northmannorum Roberto concedente; et archiepiscopo nostro Guillelmo præcipiente, et vobis a Deo coactis, faventibus, a vestra cura sum absolutus, et majori involutus.” Both Anselm and the King wrote letters; Eadmer, 19, 20.

[1136] See the letter of the monks, Epp. iii. 6.

[1137] This seems implied in Anselm’s presence at Winchester at Easter, which is recorded in the Life, ii. 1. 3. But his presence there is mentioned only to bring in a kind of miracle, in which Anselm, Gundulf, and the monk Baldwin all figure.

[1138] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. i. 19. “Siquidem omne malum quod rex fecerat, priusquam fuerat infirmatus, bonum visu est, comparatione malorum quæ fecit ubi est sanitati redonatus,”

[1139] “Ipse prædicto Roffensi episcopo, cum illum, recuperata sanitate, familiari affatu moneret ut se amplius circumspecte secundum Deum in omnibus haberet respondit.” (See above, p. 165.)

[1140] The Chronicler says generally; “Ac þæt he syððan ætbræd, þa him gebotad wæs, and ealle þa gode laga forlǽt, þe he us ær behét.” We get the details from Eadmer; “Mox igitur cuncta quæ infirmus statuerat bona, dissolvit et irrita esse præcepit. Captivi nempe, qui nondum fuerant dimissi, jussit ut artius solito custodirentur, dimissi, si capi possent, recluderentur; antiqua jamque donata debita in integrum exigerentur; placita et offensiones in pristinum statum revocarentur, illorumque judicio, qui justitiam subvertere magis quam tueri defendereve curabant, tractarentur et examinarentur.”

[1141] Florence notices the death of Rhys ap Twdwr in the Easter week, of which I shall have much to say in the next chapter.

[1142] See above, p. 370.

[1143] See above, p. 33.

[1144] See above, p. 276.

[1145] This action of William of Eu is marked by Florence at the end of the year, but without saying at what time of the year it happened; “Eodem anno Willelmus comes de Owe, auri ingenti victus aviditate et promissi honoris captus magnitudine, a naturali domino suo Rotberto Normannorum comite, cui fidelitatem juraverat, defecit et in Angliam ad regem Willelmum veniens, illius se dominio, ut seductor maximus, subjugavit.”

[1146] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 538, 684.

[1147] Anna Comnena tells us this, vii. 6. Robert, on his return from Jerusalem (ὁ Φλάνδρας κόμης ἐξ Ἱεροσολύμων ἐπανερχόμενος), does homage to the Emperor (τὸν συνήθη τοῖς Λατίνοις ἀποδίδωσιν ὅρκον) and promises five hundred knights (ἱππεῖς). In viii. 7 we find that he had fulfilled his promise, and that they are ἱππεῖς ἔκκριτοι. In viii. 3 they figure as Κελτοί. Cf. Will. Malms. iii. 257.

[1148] We have heard of him in N. C. vol. v. pp. 181, 850, and we shall come across him again.

[1149] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 20. “Jam cum virga pastorali curam quam super Beccum abbas susceperat, pro descripta superius absolutione, ipse Becco restituerat.”

[1150] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 327, 328.

[1151] This seems to be the distinction drawn by Anselm, Hist. Nov. 19, 20; “Volo ut omnes terras quas ecclesia Cantuariensis, ad quam regendam electus sum, tempore beatæ memoriæ Lanfranci archiepiscopi tenebat, sine omni placito et controversia ipsi ecclesiæ restituas, et de aliis terris quas eadem ecclesia ante suum tempus habebat, sed perditas nondum recuperavit, mihi rectitudinem judiciumque consentias.” About anything which Lanfranc had actually held there could, it is assumed, be no question, either of law or of fact; about earlier claims there might easily be either.

[1152] Ib. 20. “Sicut ego te volo terrenum habere dominum et defensorem, ita et tu me spiritualem habeas patrem et animæ tuæ provisorem.” To this day it is held that, wherever the King may be, the Archbishop of Canterbury is his parish priest.

[1153] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 436.

[1154] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 435.

[1155] Ib. p. 436, note.

[1156] Ib. The language of Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 25, is nearly to the same effect; “Erant quippe (illo tempore) duo, ut in Anglia ferebatur, qui dicebantur Romani pontifices a se invicem discordantes, et ecclesiam Dei inter se divisam post se trahentes.”

[1157] There is a most important passage of William of Malmesbury in his first draught of the Gesta Pontificum (p. 86, note) which he afterwards, as in so many other cases, found it expedient to tone down. As he wrote it, it stood thus;

“Erant his diebus duo competitores Romani præsulatus, summi ambo et prestantes viri. Uterque causam verisimilibus rationibus fulciebat, Urbanus electione cardinalium, Guibertus electione imperatoris Theutonum, cujus esset Roma et Italia. Neuter ergo pro persona sua cedebat. Guiberto necessitatem subjectionis ministrabat terrarum tractus qui sub imperio illius jacet; Urbano favebat omnis Gallia et Normannia, et cetera usque ad oceanum Brittannicum. Incertum cui faveret Divinitas, nisi quod Urbani fama prosperius crementum sumebat. Consensu dubio fluctuabat Anglia, in Guibertum tamen inclinatior propter metum regis.”

[1158] See above, p. 117.

[1159] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 25. “Urbano jamdudum pro vicario beati Petri ab Italia Galliaque recepto; Anselmus etiam, utpote abbas de Normannia, eum pro papa receperat, et, sicut vir nominatissimus, necnon authoritate plenus ejus literas susceperat, eique velut summo sanctæ ecclesiæ pastori suas direxerat.”

[1160] Ib. 20. “De Romano quoque pontifice Urbano, quem pro apostolico hucusque non recepisti, et ego jam recepi atque recipio, eique debitam obedientiam et subjectionem exhibere volo, cautum te facio ne quod scandalum inde oriatur in futuro.”

[1161] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 25. “Terras de quibus ecclesia saisita quidem fuerat sub Lanfranco omnes eo, quo tunc erant, tibi modo restituam, sed de illis quas sub ipso non habebat, in præsenti nullam tecum conventionem instituo. Veruntamen de his et aliis credam tibi sicut debebo.”

[1162] Eadmer, Nov. Hist. 25. “Quatenus et secundum totius regni de eo factam electionem pontifex fieri ultra non negaret.” Here are the same kind of expressions with regard to Anselm’s election of which we have already spoken in p. 405.

[1163] Ib. “Et terras ecclesiæ quas ipse rex, defuncto Lanfranco, suis dederat pro statuto servitio, illis ipsis hæreditario jure tenendas, causa sui amoris, condonaret.”

[1164] Ib. “Nolens ecclesiam, quam necdum re aliqua investierat, exspoliare.”

[1165] This letter (Ep. iii. 24) is a most important exposition of Anselm’s own views on the whole matter of the election and what followed it.

[1166] Ep. iii. 24. “Sub occasione cujusdam voluntariæ justitiæ, secundum quam de terris eisdem me vult placitare.”

[1167] Ib. “Hæc autem est illa quam dixi voluntaria justitia. Quoniam terras easdem, antequam Northmanni Angliam invaderent, milites Angli ab archiepiscopo Cantuariæ tenuisse dicuntur, et mortui sunt sine hæredibus, vult asserere se posse juste quos vult eorum hæredes constituere.”

[1168] See the instances collected in N. C. vol. v. Appendix G. The lands moreover would be yet harder to get back when they had been granted away on the new military tenures.

[1169] Ep. iii. 24. “Si quis enim alius, ad quem ecclesiæ custodia non pertineret, hanc faceret ei violentiam, aut factam patienter sustineret, palam esset quia in futuro nihil dici posset cur res ecclesiæ ad eam redire non deberent.”

[1170] Ib. “Nunc autem cum et ipse rex advocatus ejus sit, et ego custos, quid dicetur in futuro nisi, quia rex fecit et archiepiscopus sustinendo confirmavit, ratum esse debet?”

[1171] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 194; vol. v. p. 101.

[1172] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 20. “Unde Anselmus oppido lætatus est, sperans se hac occasione, a prælationis onere, per Dei gratiam, exonerandum.” And directly after; “Eo quod terras ecclesiæ injuria dare nolebat, episcopalis officii onus sese lætus evasisse videbat.”

[1173] Ib. “Cum decursu non exiguo tempore, clamorem omnium, de ecclesiarum destructione conquerentium.”

[1174] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 20. “Multis bonis et ecclesiæ Dei profuturis promissionibus illectus [Anselmus].”

[1175] Ib. “More et exemplo prædecessoris sui inductus, pro usu terræ, homo regis factus est, et, sicut Lanfrancus suo tempore fuerat, de toto archiepiscopatu saisiri jussus est.” Does not Eadmer, writing by later lights from Rome, feel scruples which Anselm did not feel at the time?

[1176] When one thinks of this, one is less surprised at the astounding language of the Council in Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 53. Yet, after all, Henry the Fourth was not Rufus.

[1177] We have the writ in the Fœdera, i. 5. It grants “omnes libertates in terra et mari super suos homines, infra burgos et extra, et super tot theines quot ecclesiæ Christi concessit Edwardus rex, cognatus meus.” This mention of the thegns, and the King’s request about the grants, and the words of Anselm to the Archbishop of Lyons, all hang together.

[1178] Ib. “Nolo pati ut aliquis hominum se intromittat de omnibus rebus quæ ad eos pertinent, nisi ipsi et ministri eorum quibus ipsi committere voluerint, nec Francus nec Anglus.”

[1179] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 18 (see above, p. 403). “At civitas Cantuaria quam Lanfrancus suo tempore in beneficio a rege tenebat, et abbatia sancti Albani quam non solum Lanfrancus sed et antecessores ejus habuisse noscuntur, in alodium ecclesiæ Christi Cantuariensis, pro redemptione animæ suæ, perpetuo jure, transirent.”

[1180] They were old friends. The Gesta Abbatum (i. 61) go on to say; “Rex Willelmus secundus archiepiscopatum, quem diu in manu sua tenuit, immisericors depauperavit. Abbas autem Paulus Anselmum egentem juvit et consolabatur. Unde, inthronizatus, in multis beneficia potiora gratus abbati recompensavit, et quod imperfectum erat in ædificiis ecclesiæ sancti Albani juvit postea consummare.”

[1181] Ib. i. 65. “Nemora complanando, hominibus beati Albani pecuniam, causis cavillatoriis adinventis, extorquendo.” Rufus is described as “nullius, præcipue mortui, verus amicus.”

[1182] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 20. “Indignationi hoc quoque non parum doloris adjiciebat, quod negotium unde agebatur ad jura ecclesiæ pertinebat, nec in aliquo regalis judicii definitionem respiciebat.”

[1183] Ib. “A rege missus quidam nomine Ranulphus, regiæ voluntatis maximus executor, qui, spreta consideratione pietatis ac modestiæ, placitum contra eum ipsa die instituit, et ferus ac tumens, tantum ecclesiæ gaudium conturbare non timuit.” Directly after; “ut nec primum quidem suæ dignitatis diem permitteretur in pace transigere.”

[1184] Ib. “Ex præsentibus futura conjecit, et quia multas in pontificatu angustias foret passurus, intellexit atque prædixit.”

[1185] The consecration of Anselm and the death of Malcolm are oddly joined together in the new Canterbury Chronicle published by Liebermann, (p. 4); “1094. On ðison geare me bletsede Anselm to biscope ii. ñ. Decemb.; and on ðison geare me scloch Malculm cing.”

[1186] T. Stubbs, X Scriptt. 1707. He adds emphatically, “Hæc interim fecit Thomas archiepiscopus, nec quisquam episcoporum erat qui hæc in sua ipsius diœcesi præsente archiepiscopo præsumeret.”

[1187] Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 21) describes the consecrators as “Thomas archiepiscopus Eboracensis et omnes episcopi Angliæ,” except the two who sent excuses. But Dr. Stubbs does not seem to reckon the Bishop of Durham among the number.

[1188] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 417.

[1189] The foundations had just been laid, as we shall see in the next chapter.

[1190] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 340.

[1191] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 21. “Cum ante ordinandi pontificis examinationem Walchelinus Wentanus episcopus, rogatu Mauricii episcopi Lundoniensis cujus hoc officium est, ecclesiastico more electionem scriptam legeret.” This is, I suppose, as Dean of the Province, an office still held by the Bishops of London, and by virtue of which they do several of the things which Thomas Stubbs claims for his own metropolitan.

[1192] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 21. Walkelin reads the writing till he comes to the words which set forth how “hæc Dorobernensis ecclesia totius Britanniæ metropolitana suo sit viduata pastore.” Then Thomas “subintulit, dicens totius Britanniæ metropolitana? Si totius Britanniæ metropolitana, ecclesia Eboracensis quæ metropolitana esse scitur, metropolitana non est. Et quidem ecclesiam Cantuariensem primatem totius Britanniæ esse scimus, non metropolitanam.”

[1193] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 21. “Quod auditum ratione submixum esse, quod dicebat intellectum est.”

[1194] Ib. “Tunc statim scriptura ipsa mutata est, et pro totius Britanniæ metropolitana, totius Britanniæ primas scriptum est, et omnis controversia conquievit. Itaque sacravit eum ut totius Britanniæ primatem.”

The Yorkist version, as given by T. Stubbs (X Scriptt. 1707), is of course quite different. Thomas is there attended by several members of his church, Hugh the Dean and others. This might almost imply the absence of his one suffragan. The words objected to are in this version “Primas totius Britanniæ.” As soon as they are heard, Thomas and his companions go out and take off their robes. Anselm and Walkelin follow them; they fall at the feet of Thomas, and ask for his forgiveness (“pedibus archiepiscopi affusi humiliter deprecati sunt, ne moleste acciperet”). Thomas stands firm. “Cum duo tantum, inquit, sint metropolitæ in Britannia, alter super alterum esse non potest.” He might have erred in his youth by admitting the claims of Canterbury; he would at least not err in the like sort again. He would consecrate no man as primate. Anselm and Walkelin submit; the word “primate” is struck out, and Anselm is consecrated as “metropolitan.”

It will be seen that in this version the place of the two titles, “primate” and “metropolitan,” is simply turned round. We can have no doubt as to preferring the contemporary account; but it is well to see how matters looked at York several centuries later.

[1195] There is no mention of this in Eadmer’s account of the consecration; but such seems to be the meaning of Anselm himself in a letter to Walter, Bishop of Albano, which I shall have to quote again (Epp. iii. 36). He there says, “Sub professione obedientiæ Romani pontificis me consecrarunt.” This is an answer to a charge of being schismatically consecrated while the kingdom was not under the obedience of Urban.

[1196] See above, p. 311.

[1197] See above, p. 312.

[1198] T. Stubbs, X Scriptt. 1707. “Non prohibebat quin eum Dorkacestrensem ordinaret episcopum, sicut et antecessores sui fuerant; verum Lyndecoldinum oppidum, et magnam partem provinciæ Lyndisiæ dicebat fuisse, et jure esse debere, parochiam Eboracensis ecclesiæ, et injuria illi ereptam esse.”

[1199] Eadmer does not mention the place; but it appears from the Chronicle that it was at the usual place, namely Gloucester.

[1200] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 21. “Consummato ordinationis suæ die octavo, Cantuariam egrediens, ad curiam regis pro imminente nativitate Domini vadit. Quo perveniens, hilariter a rege totaque regni nobilitate suscipitur.”

[1201] See N. C. vol. iii. pp. 69, 260.

[1202] Again it is from the Chronicler that we get the most formal statement of the words of the challenge. They would doubtless be uttered in French; but we may believe that we have an authorized English version; “Him þider fram his broðer Rodbearde of Normandig bodan coman, þa cyddon þæt his broðer grið and forewarde eall æftercwæð, butan se cyng gelæstan wolde eall þet hi on forewarde hæfdon ær gewroht, and uppon þæt hine forsworenne, and trywleasne clypode, buton he þa forewarda geheolde, oððe þider ferde, and hine þær betealde þær seo forewarde ǽr wæs gewroht and eac gesworen.”

[1203] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 21. “Adeo ut nonnullas etiam difficultates pateretur, quas regiam pati excellentiam indecens videbatur.”

[1204] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 300.

[1205] Eadmer, u. s. “Siquidem hunc ipse rex morem erga cunctos quibus dominatur habebat, ut quum quis eorum aliquid ei pecuniarum, etiam solius gratiæ obtentu, offerebat, oblatum, nisi quantitas rei voto illius concurreret, sperneret. Nec offerentem in suam ulterius amicitiam admittebat, si ad determinationem suam oblatum munus non augeret.”

[1206] He does it only “suasus ab amicis suis.”

[1207] Anselm himself gives this motive in his letter to Archbishop Hugh (Ep. iii. 24); “Gratias Deo, quo miserante simplicitatem cordis mei hoc factum est, ne, si nihil aut parum promisissem, justam videretur habere causam irascendi; aut si accepisset, verteretur mihi in gravamen, et in suspicionem nefandæ emptionis.”

[1208] Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 21) gives these motives at length.

[1209] Ib. “Rex tali oblatione audita, bene rem quidem laudando respondit.”

[1210] These are the arguments which Eadmer puts into the mouths of the King’s advisers; “Quidam malignæ mentis homines regem, ut fieri solet, ad hoc perduxerunt quatenus oblatam pecuniam spernendo recipere non adquiesceret.”

[1211] Eadmer here quotes a psalm; “Mentita est iniquitas sibi.” Ps. xxvii. 12.

[1212] Ib. “Mandatur illi regem oblatam pecuniam refutare, et miratus est.”

[1213] Ib. 22. “Amica nempe libertate me et omnia mea ad utilitatem tuam habere poteris, servili autem conditione nec me nec mea habebis.”

[1214] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 441.

[1215] Eadmer, u. s. “Iratus rex, Sint, inquit, cum jurgio tua tibi, sufficient mea mihi. Vade.”

[1216] The story is told by Eadmer, 22. The objection of Maurice takes this shape; “Dicebat ipsam ecclesiam in sua parochia esse, et ob hoc, licet in terra archiepiscopi fuerit, dedicationem illius ad se pertinere.” The right of the Archbishop seems to have rested on good ancient precedent; but there is something odd in Eadmer’s way of stating the controversy. The presumption was surely in favour of the diocesan bishop.

[1217] The letter of Anselm to Wulfstan appears among the Epistles (iii. 19). Wulfstan’s answer is given in the text of the Historia Novorum. Anselm speaks of the action of the earlier archbishops in this matter; “Quod etiam sanctus Dunstanus et alii prædecessores mei fecisse probantur, ipsis ecclesiis quas dedicaverunt adhuc stantibus.” This is a little touch from a time when the churches of Dunstan’s day were being largely rebuilt, that of Harrow most likely among them. Wulfstan is well described by Eadmer; “Supererat adhuc beatæ memoriæ Wolstanus episcopus unus et solus de antiquis Anglorum patribus, vir in omni religione conspicuus, et antiquarum Angliæ consuetudinum scientia apprime eruditus.” There is something very remarkable in the way in which Wulfstan speaks of the archbishop to whom he made his first profession (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 473, 655); “Extant quippe et in nostra diœcesi altaria, et quædam etiam ecclesiæ in hiis scilicet villis quas Stigandus vestræ excellentiæ prædecessor, haut tamen jure ecclesiasticæ hæreditatis sed ex dono possederat sæcularis potestatis, ab ipso dedicata.” Wulfstan, speaking his own words in his own letter, speaks of Stigand in quite another tone from that which he had used in the profession which was put into his mouth by Lanfranc (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 655). The places referred to are in Gloucestershire, and will be found in Domesday, 164 b. Most of the lands had passed to the Archbishop of York; some of them first to William Fitz-Osbern, and then to the King. It would seem then that, in whatever character Stigand held them, it was not as Archbishop of Canterbury. Wulfstan’s witness therefore goes so far as to give the archbishop the right to oust the diocesan bishop, not only on the lands of the archbishopric, but on any lands which he may hold as a private man.

[1218] There is something amusing in the tone of glee in which Eadmer records his patron’s triumph; “Secure deinceps suorum morem antecessorum emulabatur, non solum ecclesias, inconsultis episcopis, sacrans, sed et quæque divina officia in cunctis terris suis per se suosve dispensans.”

[1219] Eadmer, 22. “Ex præcepto regis, omnes fere episcopi una cum principibus Angliæ ad Hastinges convenerunt, ipsum regem in Normanniam transfretaturum sua benedictione et concursu prosecuti.”

[1220] The Chronicler seems distinctly to mark the ecclesiastical business which we have now come to as casually filling up the time lost by the bad weather. The whole entry runs; “Ða ferde se cyng to Hæstingan to þam Candelmæssan, and onmang þam þe he þær wederes abad he let halgian þæt mynster æt þære Bataille. And Herbearde Losange þam bishop of Theotfordan his stæf bename and þæræfter to midlengtene ofer sæ for into Normandige.” We shall take these things in order.

[1221] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 404.

[1222] Ib. 401.

[1223] In the Battle Chronicle (40) the consecration is naturally an event of great importance. But here too the presence of the King and so great a company is accounted for by their presence in the neighbourhood or other grounds; “Cumque jam operis fabricæ peroptata advenisset perfectio, rege quibusdam causis obortis eandem provinciam cum multis optimatibus forte adeunte, ex instinctu ejusdem abbatis, paterni memor edicti, eandem dedicari basilicam decrevit.”

[1224] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 405.

[1225] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 453.

[1226] He was consecrated the year before; the date of his death seems not to be known. See Bessin, 531.

[1227] See above, p. 321.

[1228] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 411.

[1229] See above, p. 29.

[1230] See Appendix Z.

[1231] So says T. Stubbs, X Scriptt. 1708. “Rex Willelmus quamdam concordiam, vel potius dispensationem, fecit inter illos, Thoma quidem archiepiscopo invito et renitente et coacto nec consentiente, sed inconsulto Eboracensi capitulo.”

[1232] Eadmer, 23. “Quidam de episcopis atque principibus conati sunt contra Anselmum scandalum movere, intendentes ad hoc ut eundem episcopum absolute absque debita professione consecraret. Quod nullo jure fulti, ea solummodo re sunt aggressi, quia putabant se animo regis aliquid ex conturbatione Anselmi, unde lætaretur inferre, scientes eum pro suprascripta caussa adversum ipsum non parum esse turbatum.”

[1233] Eadmer, 23. “Asseruit se nullo pacto consensurum ut, pro inimicitia quam contra archiepiscopum habebat, matri suæ ecclesiæ Cantuariensi de sua dignitate quid quivis detraherat.”

[1234] See Appendix Z.

[1235] On the history and character of Robert Bloet, see Appendix Z.

[1236] See above, p. 395.

[1237] See above, p. 355, and Appendix X.

[1238] This deprivation of Herbert by the King—most likely with the consent of somebody, but we are not told—is quite as contrary to strict ecclesiastical notions as the deprivation of Stigand by the English people. The Parliaments of Elizabeth, William and Mary, George the First, followed that precedent. I will not speak of the reign of Edward the Sixth, as that was a time of “unlaw” nearly equal to the days of Rufus himself.

[1239] See Appendix X.

[1240] Here we come personally across the class of offenders of whom we have before spoken generally (see above, p. 158, and Appendix G). Eadmer draws their picture; “Eo tempore curialis juventus ferme tota crines suos juvencularum more nutriebat, et quotidie pexa, ac irreligiosis nutibus circumspectans, delicatis vestigiis, tenero incessu, obambulare solita erat. De quibus cum in capite jejunii sermonem in populo ad missam suam et ad cineres confluente idem pater habuisset, copiosam turbam ex illis in pœnitentiam egit, et attonsis crinibus, in virilem formam redegit.”

[1241] See Appendix G.

[1242] This is pointed out by Eadmer. “Die quadam ad eum ex more ivit, et juxta illum sedens eum his verbis alloqui cœpit.” We shall come to other instances of this custom of the Archbishop sitting down beside the King.

[1243] “Obsecro primum, fer opem et consilium qualiter in hoc regno tuo Christianitas, quæ jam fere tota in multis periit, in statum suum redigi possit. Respondit, ‘Quam opem, quod consilium?’”

[1244] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 437.

[1245] Anselm is made to say; “Generale concilium episcoporum ex quo tu rex factus fuisti non fuit in Anglia celebratum, nec retroactis pluribus annis.” Yet Lanfranc had held many synods, and one notable one as late as 1085. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 687.

[1246] He passes by the smaller matters—“ut illicita consanguineorum connubia et alia multa rerum detestandarum facinorosa negotia taceam”—and goes straight to the sin of the reign, “noviter in hac terra divulgatum,” which “jam plurimum pullulavit multosque sua immanitate fœdavit.” See Appendix G.

[1247] “Conemur una, quæso, tu regia potestate et ego pontificali auctoritate, quantus tale quid inde statuatur, quod cum per totum fuerit regnum divulgatum, solo etiam auditu quicunque illius fautor est paveat et deprimatur.” What would have been the nature of the punishment? Something more, one would think, than an ecclesiastical censure, as it was to be a decree of the King. Anselm had no objection to very severe punishments on occasion (see N. C. vol. v. p. 159; cf. vol. iv. p. 621). But when he was able to legislate on this subject (see N. C. vol. v. p. 223), it was in an ecclesiastical synod, and the penalties are milder.

[1248] “Non sederunt hæc animo principis, et paucis ita respondit, ‘Et in hac re quid fieret pro te?’ ‘Si non,’ inquit Anselmus, ‘pro me, spero fieret pro Deo et te.’” I suppose the meaning is something like what I have given. Again one longs for the actual words in their own tongue.

[1249] “Ne in destructione monasteriorum et perditione monachorum tibi, quod absit, damnationem adquiras.”

[1250] “Quid ad te? Numquid sunt abbatiæ meæ? Hem, tu quod vis agis de villis tuis, et ego non agam quod volo de abbatiis meis?”

[1251] “Tuæ quidem sunt ut illas quasi advocatus defendas atque custodias, non tuæ autem ut invadas aut devastes. Dei scimus eas esse, ut sui ministri inde vivant, non quo expeditiones et bella tua inde fiant.”

[1252] “Intellexit ergo Anselmus se verba in ventum proferre, et surgens abiit.”

[1253] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 687.

[1254] “Considerans offenso principis animo nequaquam posse pacem rebus dari.”

[1255] “Deprecatus est ut in amicitiam sui sese gratis admitteret. Quod si, ait, facere nonvult, cur nolit edicat, et si offendi, satisfacere paratus sum.”

[1256] “De nulla re illum inculpo, nec tamen ei gratiam meam, quia non audio quare, indulgere volo.” The words which I have put in Italics in the two speeches must be taken together.

[1257] “Mysterium hoc, inquiunt, planum est.”

[1258] “Tantundem pecuniæ quam ab hominibus tuis accipies illi promitte.”

[1259] “Aliam qua exeas viam non videmus, nec nos, pari angustia clausi, aliam exeundi habemus.”

[1260] “Et ego cum hucusque nihil eis unde revestiri possint contulerim, jam eos nudos spoliarem, immo spoliatos excoriarem.”

[1261] “Eat quo vult, nec me transfretaturum pro danda benedictione diutius exspectet.”

[1262] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Syððan he þider com, he and his broðer Rodbeard se eorl gecwæðan, þæt hi mid griðe togædere cuman sceoldan, and swa dydon, and gesemede beon ne mihtan.” So Florence; “Rex … ad fratris colloquium sub statuta pace venit, sed impacatus ab eo recessit.”

[1263] See N. C. vol. i. p. 435.

[1264] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Syððan eft hi togædere coman mid þam ilcan mannan þe ær þæt loc makedon, and eac þa aðas sworen, and ealne þone bryce uppon þone cyng tealdon.” The version preserved in one manuscript of Florence says, “denuo in campo Martio convenere.” Can this be the “Champ de Mars” just outside Rouen? I had fancied that the name was modern.

[1265] Ib. “Ac he nolde þæs geþafa beon, ne eac þa forewarde healdan.”

[1266] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “And forþam hi þa mid mycelon unsehte tocyrdon.”

[1267] The mention of the places comes from Florence; “Comes quidem Rotomagum perrexit; rex ad Owe rediit et in illo resedit.”

[1268] Flor. Wig. 1094. “Solidarios undique conduxit, aurum, argentum, terras, quibusdam primatum Normanniæ dedit, quibusdam promisit, ut a germano suo Rotberto deficerent, et se cum castellis suæ ditioni subjicerent: quibus ad velle suum paratis, per castella, vel quæ prius habuerat vel quæ nunc conduxerat, suos milites distribuit.”

[1269] The “castel æt Hulme” of the Chronicler is the castle of Hulmus, Le Homme, or L’Isle Marie. See Stapleton, ii. xxv, xxviii. It must not be confounded with the “pagus Holmensis” or “Holmetia regio” in the Hiesmois. See Stapleton, ii. xc, xcv, and Ord. Vit. 691 C.

[1270] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 488. See above, p. 57.

[1271] Ib. vol. iv. pp. 200, 201.

[1272] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “And se cyng syððan þone castel æt Bures gewann; and þes eorles men þærinne genam; þa sume hyder to lande sende.” Florence adds, “partim in Normannia custodiæ mancipavit; et fratrem suum multis modis vexans, exhæredare laboravit.”

[1273] The Chronicler casually mentions Philip’s coming when speaking of the siege of Argentan; Florence is more emphatic; “At ille, necessitate compulsus, dominum suum regem Francorum Philippum cum exercitu Normanniam adduxit.”

[1274] The Chronicler (1094) says only, “Ðær togeanes se eorl mid þes cynges fultume of France gewann þone castel æt Argentses and þearinne Rogger Peiteuin genam, and seofen hundred þes cynges cnihta mid him.” Florence adds, “ipso die obsessionis dec. milites regis, cum his totidem scutariis et castellanis omnibus qui intus erant, sine sanguinis effusione cepit [rex], captosque in custodia tamdiu detineri mandavit, donec quisque se redimeret.”

[1275] So says Florence; “Post hæc in Franciam rediit.” As however he says nothing of Philip’s coming to Longueville, he may mean his return after that.

[1276] The Chronicler says only, after the taking of Argentan, “and syððan þone [castel] æt Hulme.” Florence makes it the special exploit of Robert; “Comes vero Rotbertus castellum quod Holm nuncupatur obsedit, donec Willelmus Peverel et dccc. homines, qui id defendebant, illi se dederent.”

[1277] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “And oftrædlice heora ægðer uppon oðerne tunas bærnde, and eac men læhte.”

[1278] Flor. Wig. 1094. “Interea gravi et assiduo tributo hominumque mortalitate, præsenti et anno sequenti, tota vexabatur Anglia.”

[1279] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Ða sende se cyng hider to lande, and hét abeodan út xx. þusenda Engliscra manna [‘xx. millia pedonum’ in Florence] him to fultume to Normandig.”

[1280] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Ac þa hi to sæ coman, þa het hi man cyrran, and þæt feoh to þæs cynges behófe þe hi genumen hæfdon; þet wæs ælc man healf punda, and hi swa dydon.” Florence tells us the place and the doer; “Quibus ut mare transirent Heastingæ congregatis, pecuniam quæ data fuerat eis ad victum Rannulphus Passeflambardus præcepto regis abstulit, scilicet unicuique decem solidos, et eos domum repedare mandavit, pecuniam vero regi transmisit.”

[1281] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “And se eorl innon Normandig æfter þison, mid þam cynge of France and mid eallon þan þe hi gegaderian mihton, ferdon towardes Ou þær se cyng W. inne wæs, and þohtan hine inne to besittanne, and swa foran oð hi coman to Lungeuile.”

[1282] Ib. “Ðær wearð se cyng of France þurh gesmeah gecyrred, and swa syððan eal seo fyrding tóhwearf.”

[1283] Florence, as we have seen, stops with the taking of La Houlme in 1094. The Chronicler goes on to Henry’s Lenten expedition in 1095. After that, neither says anything about Norman affairs till the agreement of 1096, though both of them imply (see below, p. 555) that the war lasted till that time.

[1284] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 241.

[1285] Ord. Vit. 706 C. See Appendix P.

[1286] Ord. Vit. ib. See above, p. 217.

[1287] This is one of Orderic’s best stories (706 C, D). A false tale of its lord’s death is brought to Saint Cenery. His allies, Pagan of Montdoubleau (see above, p. 209) and Rotrou of Montfort, at once forsake the castle which they had been defending. Robert’s wife Radegund cannot get them to wait till more certain news can be had. Robert of Bellême comes just in time for dinner. “Ingressi castrum, lebetes super ignes ferventes invenerunt carnibus plenas, et mensas mappulis coopertas et escas cum pane super appositas.” He spoils and burns the castle. Robert son of Geroy is left homeless; his wife (“proba femina et honesta”) dies; his little son William, whom Robert of Bellême somehow has as a hostage, is poisoned; he then defends his new castle of Montacute against Robert of Bellême. Robert of Bellême brings Duke Robert to besiege him. Peace is made by the mediation of Geoffrey of Mayenne; Montacute is destroyed, and Saint Cenery is restored to Robert son of Geroy.

[1288] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Her onmang þison se cyng W. sende æfter his broðer Hennrige se wæs on þam castele æt Damfront, ac forþi þe he mid friðe þurh Normandig faran ne mihte, he him sende scipon æfter, and Hugo eorl of Ceastre.”

[1289] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Ac þa þa hi towardes Oú faran sceoldan þær se cyng wæs, hi foran to Englelande and úp coman æt Hamtune on ealra halgena mæsse æfne, and her syððon wunedon, and to X[~p]es mæssan wæron on Lunden.”

[1290] Ib. 1095. “On þisum geare wæs se cyng Willelm to X[~p]es mæssan þa feower forewarde dagas on Hwitsand; and æfter þam feorðan dæge hider to lande fór, and úpp com æt Doferan.”

[1291] Ib. “And Heanrig þes cynges broðer her on lande oð Lengten wunode, and þa ofer sæ for to Normandig mid mycclon gersuman, on þæs cynges heldan, uppon heora broðer Rodbeard eorl, and gelomlice uppon þone eorl wann, and him mycelne hearm ægðer on lande and on mannan dyde.”

[1292] Ord. Vit. 722 D. “Rodbertus mollis dux a vigore priorum decidit, et pigritia mollitieque torpuit, plus provinciales subditos timens quam ab illis timebatur.”

[1293] Ib. “Henricus frater ducis Danfrontem fortissimum castrum possidebat, et magnam partem Neustriæ sibi favore vel armis subegerat.”

[1294] Ib. “Fratri suo ad libitum suum, nec aliter, obsecundabat.” I do not see what is meant in Sigebert’s Chronicle under 1095 (Pertz, vi. 367); “Rex Anglorum a fratribus sollicitatur in Normania et Anglia.”

[1295] Ib. “Porro alius frater qui Angliæ diadema gerebat in Normannia, ut reor, plusquam xx. castra tenebat, et proceres oppidanosque potentes muneribus sibi vel terroribus illexerat…. Perplures cum omnibus sibi subditis munitionibus et oppidanis regi parebant, eique, quia metuendus erat, totis nisibus adhærebant.”

[1296] He appears in Orderic’s list, 722 D.

[1297] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 129.

[1298] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 288.

[1299] Ord. Vit. 708 C. He makes the remark just before, “In diebus illis antiqui optimates qui sub Roberto duce vel filio ejus Guillelmo rege militaverant humanæ conditionis more hominem exuerunt.”

[1300] Ord. Vit. 708 C. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 498.

[1301] See above, p. 57. We shall come across his fuller picture in a later chapter.

[1302] Ord. Vit. 718 D. He adds the epitaph of his own making.

[1303] He records his death and adds his epitaph, 809 C, D. William of Breteuil and Ralph of Conches died the same year, 1102.

[1304] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 465.

[1305] Ord. Vit. 723 A. “Sic Normannia suis in se filiis furentibus miserabiliter turbata est, et plebs inermis sine patrono desolata est.”

[1306] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 25. “Ipse quidem in Normanniam transiit, expensaque immensa pecunia eam sibi nullatenus subigere potuit. Infecto itaque negotio in Angliam reversus est.”

[1307] Will. Malms. iv. 327. “Septimo anno, propter tributa quæ rex in Normannia positus edixerat, agricultura defecit, qua fatiscente, fames e vestigio, ea quoque invalescente, mortalitas hominum subsecuta, adeo crebra ut deesset morituris cura, mortuis sepultura.” This is copied by the Margam annalist.

[1308] Flor. Wig. 1094. “Post hæc rex Willelmus iv. kal. Januarii Angliam rediit, et ut Walanos debellaret, mox exercitum in Waloniam duxit, ibique homines et equos perdidit multos.” I am not at all clear that this entry in Florence is not a confusion. The Chronicle under the same year records the return of the King, and directly after sums up the Welsh warfare of the year; but it is not implied that the King took any part in it. He could not have done so before his return from Normandy, and, to say nothing of the unlikelihood of a winter campaign in itself, the incidental notices of the King’s movements hardly leave time for one.

[1309] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 9. Eadmer writes the name Illingham, a change which might easily have happened after the pattern of Ilchester (see above, p. 63) and Islip (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 15), but the g remains in use to this day. There is something very amusing in the note of Henschenius reprinted in Migne’s edition of Eadmer and Anselm, col. 394;

“Alia plura dominia, ut Rochingeham, Ilingeham, Sæftesburia, quæ jam ante occurrerunt, et plura secutura, potuissent designato locorum situ explicari, si operæ pretium visum esset eorum causa totas Anglici regni tabulas perlustrare, et esset qui exsoleta jam nomina, ubi requirenda sint, indicaret. Poterit postea curiosior aliquis hunc defectum supplere.”

Fancy a man reading his Eadmer, and not making the faintest effort to find out where any place was. But perhaps this is better than M. Croset-Mouchet, who always turns the Bishop of Exeter into a Bishop of Oxford (cf. N. C. vol. iv. p. 779), and who has a place Srewsbury, which does duty alike for the earldom of Shrewsbury and for the bishopric of Salisbury.

[1310] So say the Margam Annals, 1095; “Commotio fuit stellarum, et obiit Wlstanus Wigorniensis episcopus.” But unluckily it appears from Florence that the stars did not shoot till April 4. Still it is edifying to mark the different results of the death of a saintly and of a worldly bishop. The next entry is, “Moritur Willelmus episcopus Dunelmensis, et hic commotio hominum.” According to Hugh of Flavigny (Pertz, viii. 474) the stars paid regard to the death of an abbot who in no way concerns us; “Stellæ de cœlo cadere visæ sunt, et eadem nocte Gyraldus abbas Silvæ majoris [in the diocese of Bourdeaux] migravit ad Dominum.” Sigebert’s Chronicle (Pertz, vi. 367) has some curious physical details.

[1311] See above, p. 297.

[1312] The story is told by William of Malmesbury, Vit. Wlst. Angl. Sacr. ii. 266. “Præmonuerat ministros velle se ad illud pascha convivari accuratis epulis cum bonis hominibus.” He then brings the poor people into the hall and “præcepit inter eos sedili locato epulas sibi apponi.”

[1313] The steward’s doctrine is “competentius esse, ut episcopus convivaretur cum paucis divitibus quam cum multis pauperibus.” The bishop makes his scriptural quotation, and adds, “illis debere serviri, qui non haberent unde redderent.” He then winds up, “Lætius se videre istum consessum, quam si, ut sæpe, consedisset regi Anglorum.” One would like to have Wulfstan’s English. We must remember that Wulfstan was commonly surrounded at dinner by a knightly following. Vit. Wlst. 259. “Excepto si quando cum monachis reficeretur, semper in regia considentibus militibus palam convivabatur.”

[1314] Vit. Wlst. 266. “Multo eum suspiciebat rex honore, multo proceres; ut qui sæpe ipsum ascirent convivio, et assurgerent ejus consilio.” Then follows the list of his foreign admirers, but it is only of the Irish kings that we read that “magnis eum venerabantur favoribus.” Malcolm and Margaret “ipsius se dedebant orationibus;” the foreign prelates “epistolis quæ adhuc supersunt ejus ambierunt apud Deum suffragia.”

[1315] See above, p. 312.

[1316] Vit. Wlst. 267. “Humanorum excessum [had he given in a little too much to foreign ways?] confessione facta, etiam disciplinam accepit. Ita vocant monachi virgarum flagra, quæ tergo nudato cædentis infligit acrimonia.”

[1317] Serlo we have heard of before; see N. C. vol. iv. p. 383. Of Tewkesbury I shall have to speak below, and see N. C. vol. v. pp. 628, 629.

[1318] Vit. Wlst. 267. “Magis sedens quam jacens, aures psalmis, oculos altari applicabat, sedili sic composito ut libere cerneret quicquid in capella fieret.” That is, there was a squint between his bed-room and the chapel, a not uncommon arrangement, one of the best instances of which is to be seen in Beverstone Castle, in Wulfstan’s diocese, though of a date long after Godwine’s days and his. This use of the squint is only one of several ways for enabling the inmates, whether of houses, hospitals, or monastic infirmaries, to hear mass without going out of doors.

[1319] The vision is recorded by William of Malmesbury in the life of Wulfstan (268), where he says that Bishop Robert was “in curia regis,” and adds that he was “homo sæculi quidem fretus prudentia, sed nulla solutus illecebra.” Florence says that Robert was “in oppido quod Criccelad vocatur.” The inference is that the King was at Cricklade. Cricklade does not appear among the King’s lordships in Wiltshire; but both he (Domesday, 65) and other lords had burgesses there, and there is an entry in 64 b about the third penny, which brought in five pounds yearly.

In the Gesta Pontificum William of Malmesbury does not mention the vision; but he brings Bishop Robert to Worcester to bury Wulfstan without any such call. There is surely something a little heathenish in his description of the bishop’s body lying in “Libitina ante altare.”

[1320] Gest. Pont. 289. “Profecto, si facilitas antiquorum hominum adjuvaret, jamdudum elatus in altum sanctus predicaretur, sed nostrorum incredulitas, quæ se cautelæ umbraculo exornat, non vult miraculis adhibere fidem etiamsi conspicetur oculo, etiamsi palpat digito.” Yet, though he says that prayers offered at Wulfstan’s tomb were always answered, yet he says nothing about miracles being wrought there (unless we count the wonderful preservation of the tomb itself during a fire), and not much of miracles done during his lifetime. There is more in the Life.

[1321] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 25. “Quem consistentem in quadam villa quæ tribus miliariis a Sceftesberia distans Ilingeham vocatur Anselmus adiit.” See above, p. 477. By what follows this must have been some time in February.

[1322] See above, p. 414.

[1323] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 122, 462, and Hook, Archbishops, i. 27, 270.

[1324] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 353.

[1325] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 441.

[1326] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 25. “Eique suam voluntatem in hoc esse innotuit, ut Romanum pontificem pro pallii sui petitione adiret. Ad quod rex, A quo inquit papa illud requirere cupis?”

[1327] Ib. “Quicunque sibi hujus dignitatis potestatem vellet præripere, unum foret ac si coronam suam sibi conaretur auferre.”

[1328] Ib. “Iræ stimulis exagitatus, protestatus est illum nequaquam fidem quam sibi debebat simul et apostolicæ sedis obedientiam, contra suam voluntatem, posse servare.”

[1329] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 26. “Petivit inducias ad istius rei examinationem quatenus episcopis, abbatibus, cunctisque regni principibus, una coëuntibus communi assensu definiretur, utrum salva reverentia et obedientia sedis apostolicæ posset fidem terreno regi servare, annon.” These words must be specially attended to, as they contain the whole root of the matter with regard to the council of Rockingham. The word “indutiæ” is rather hard to translate. It means an adjournment, but something more than an adjournment. The word “truce,” commonly used to express it, is rather too strong; yet it is sometimes hard to avoid it.

[1330] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 26. “Quod si probatum, inquit, fuerit, utrumque fieri minime posse, fateor malo terram tuam, donec apostolicum suscipias, exeundo devitare, quam beati Petri ejusque vicarii obedientiam vel ad horam abnegare.”

[1331] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 435.

[1332] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 224.

[1333] Domesday, 220. “Rex tenet Rochingeham…. Hanc terram tenuit Bovi cum saca et soca T. R. E. Wasta erat quando rex W. jussit ibi castellum fieri.” On Rockingham Castle, see Mr. G. T. Clark, Archæological Journal, xxxv. 209.

[1334] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 26. “Fit conventus omnium dominico die, in ecclesia quæ est in ipso castro sita, ab hora prima, rege et suis secretius in Anselmum consilia sua studiose texentibus.”

[1335] “Anselmus autem, episcopis, abbatibus, et principibus, ad se a regio secreto vocatis, eos et assistentem monachorum, clericorum, laicorum, numerosam multitudinem hac voce alloquitur.”

[1336] See above, p. 480, for somewhat similar arrangements. But the present hall of Rockingham, dating from the thirteenth century, is divided by the width of the court from what seems to be the site of the chapel.

[1337] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 26. “Fateor verum dico, quia salva reverentia voluntatis Dei maluissem illa die, si optio mihi daretur, in ardentem rogum comburendus præcipitari, quam archiepiscopatus dignitate sublimari.”

[1338] “Rapuistis me, et coegistis onus omnium suscipere, qui corporis imbecillitate defessus meipsum vix poteram ferre … attamen videns importunam voluntatem vestram, credidi me vobis, et suscepi onus quod imposuistis, confisus spe auxilii vestri quod polliciti estis. Nunc ergo, ecce tempus adest quo sese causa obtulit, ut onus meum consilii vestri manu levetis.”

[1339] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 27. “Si, remota omni alia conditione, simpliciter ad voluntatem domini nostri regis consilii tui summam transferre velles, prompta tibi voluntate, ut nobis ipsis, consuleremus.”

[1340] “In medio procerum et conglobatæ multitudinis sedens.” Judges and bishops can still deliver charges sitting; but it would seem hard to carry on a debate in that posture.

[1341] “Si pure ad voluntatem domini regis consilii tui summam transferre volueris, promptum, et quod in nobis ipsis utile didicimus, a nobis consilium certum habebis. Si autem secundum Deum, quod ullatenus voluntati regis obviare possit, consilium a nobis expectas, frustra niteris; quia in hujusmodi nunquam tibi nos adminiculari videbis.”

[1342] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 27. “Quibus dictis conticuerunt, et capita sua quasi ad ea quæ ipse illaturus erat demiserunt.”

[1343] “Tunc pater Anselmus, erectis in altum luminibus, vivido vultu, reverenda voce, ista locutus est.”

[1344] “Nos qui Christianæ plebis pastores, et vos qui populorum principes vocamini.”

[1345] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 27. “Non cuilibet imperatori, non alicui regi, non duci, non comiti.” I have ventured to prefer the climax to the anti-climax.

[1346] See above, p. 104.

[1347] See above, p. 95.

[1348] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 27. “Turbationem suam confusis vocibus exprimentes, ut eos illum esse reum mortis una clamare putares.” The reference seems to be to St. Matthew’s Gospel, xxvi. 66.

[1349] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 295. Only the groups at Lillebonne seem to have been larger than those at Rockingham.

[1350] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 28. “Hic duo, ibi tres, illic quatuor, in unum consiliabantur, studiosissime disquirentes, si quo modo possent aliquod responsum contra hæc componere, quod et regiam animositatem deliniret et prælibatas sententias Dei adversa fronte non impugnaret.”

[1351] “Adversariis ejus conciliabula sua in longum protelantibus, ipse ad parietem se reclinans leni somno quiescebat.”

[1352] “Vult dominus noster rex, omissis aliis verbis, a te sub celeritate sententiam audire.”

[1353] “Hæc rogamus, hæc consulimus, hæc tibi tuisque necessaria esse dicimus et confirmamus.”

[1354] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 28. “Noveris totum regnum conqueri adversum te quod nostro communi domino conaris decus imperii sui, coronam, auferre. Quicumque enim regiæ dignitatis ei consuetudines tollit, coronam simul et regnum tollit.”

[1355] “Urbani illius, qui offenso domino rege nil tibi prodesse nec ipso pacato tibi quicquam valet obesse, obedientiam abjice, subjectionis jugum excute, et liber, ut archiepiscopum Cantuariensem decet, in cunctis actibus tuis voluntatem domini regis et jussionem expecta.” What more could Henry the Eighth have asked of Cranmer?

[1356] “Quatenus inimici tui qui casibus tuis nunc insultant, visa dignitatis tuæ sublevatione, erubescant.”

[1357] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 28. “Respondeam quod Deus inspirare dignabitur.”

[1358] “Suspicati ilium aut quid diceret ultra nescire aut metu addictum statim cœpto desistere.”

[1359] “Persuaserunt inducias nulla ratione dandas, sed causa recenti examinatione discussa, supremam, si suis adquiescere consiliis nollet, in eum judicii sententiam invehi juberet.”

[1360] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 28. “Erat quasi primus et prolocutor regis in hoc negotio Willelmus supra nominatus Dunelmensis episcopus, homo linguæ volubilitate facetus quam pura sapientia præditus. Hujus quoque discidii quod inter regem et Anselmum versabatur erat auctor gravis et incentor.”

[1361] “Omni ingenio satagebat, si quo modo Anselmum calumniosis objectionibus fatigatum regno eliminaret, ratus, ut dicebatur, ipso discedente, se archiepiscopatus solio sublimandum.”

[1362] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 28. “Nec regia dignitate integre se potitum suspicabatur, quamdiu aliquis in tota terra, vel etiam secundum Deum, nisi per eum quicquam habere (not dico) vel posse dicebatur.”

[1363] “Spoponderat se facturum ut Anselmus aut Romani pontificis funditus obedientiam abnegaret, aut archiepiscopatui, reddito baculo et annulo, abrenunciaret.”

[1364] Ib. 29. “Dicit quod quantum tua interest eum sua dignitate spoliasti; dum Odonem episcopum Ostiensem sine sui auctoritate præcepti papam in sua Anglia facis.”

[1365] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 29. “Revesti eum primo, si placet, debita imperii sui dignitate, et tunc demum de induciis age.”

[1366] “Nec jocum existimes esse quod agitur; immo in istis magni doloris stimulis urgemur.”

[1367] “Quod dominus tuus et noster in omni dominatione sua præcipuum habebat, et quo eum cunctis regibus præstare certum erat.”

[1368] See Appendix F.

[1369] We shall come to these matters in the next chapter.

[1370] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 29. “Aspicientes sese ad invicem, nec invenientes quid ad ista referrent, ad dominum suum reversi sunt.”

[1371] “Protinus intellexerunt quod prius non animadverterunt, nec ipsum advertere posse putaverunt, videlicet archiepiscopum Cantuariensem a nullo hominum, nisi a solo papa, judicari posse vel damnari, nec ab aliquo cogi pro quavis calumnia cuiquam, eo excepto, contra suum velle respondere.”

[1372] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 29. “Ortum interea murmur est totius multitudinis pro injuria tanti viri summissa inter se voce querentis. Nemo quippe palam pro eo loqui audebat ob metum tyranni.” We have had the word “tyrannis” already; see above, p. 397.

[1373] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 29. “Miles unus de multitudine prodiens viro adstitit flexis coram eo genibus.”

[1374] “Confidentes juxta scripturam, vocem populi vocem esse Dei.” “Scriptura” must here be taken in some wide sense; Eadmer could hardly have thought that these words were to be found in any of the canonical books.

[1375] “Ad divisionem spiritus sui exacerbatus.”

[1376] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 29. “Dunelmensis ita inprimis tepide et silenter per singula loquebatur, ut omnis humanæ prudentiæ inscius et expers putaretur.”

[1377] “Cogitabimus pro te usque ad mane.”

[1378] “Mane reversi sedimus in solito loco exspectantes mandatum regis. At ille cum suis omnimodo perquirebat quid in damnationem Anselmi componere posset, nec inveniebat.”

[1379] “Requisitus Willielmus Dunelmensis quid ipse, ex condicto, noctu egerit apud se.”

[1380] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 29. “Verum mihi violentia videtur opprimendus, et, si regiæ voluntati non vult adquiescere, ablato baculo et annulo, de regno pellendus. Non placuerunt hæc verba principibus.”

[1381] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 30. “Per vultum Dei si vos illum ad voluntatem meam non damnaveritis, ego damnabo vos.” The oath “per vultum Dei” is the same as that “per vultum de Luca.” See Appendix G.

[1382] “Robertus quidam ipsi regi valde familiaris” would seem to be no other than the Count of Meulan. We shall hear of him by name later in the story. It might be Robert the Dispenser (see above, p. 331), but that seems much less likely.

[1383] “De consiliis nostris quid dicam, fateor nescio. Nam cum omni studio per totum diem inter nos illa conferimus, et quatenus aliquo modo sibi cohereant conferendo conferimus, ipse, nihil mali e contra cogitans, dormit, et prolata coram eo statim uno labiorum suorum pulsu quasi telas araneæ rumpit.”

[1384] “Primas est, non modo istius regni, sed et Scotiæ et Hiberniæ, necne adjacentium insularum, nosque suffraganei ejus.” We have had one or two other cases, in which, in Eadmer’s language at least, the Archbishop of York is spoken of as the suffragan of Canterbury.

[1385] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 30. “Properate igitur, et quod dicitis citius facite, ut cum viderit se a cunctis despectum et desolatum, verecundetur, et ingemiscat se Urbanum me domino suo contempto secutum.”

[1386] “Et quo ista securius faciatis, en ego primum in imperio meo penitus ei omnem securitatem et fiduciam mei tollo, ac deinceps in illo vel de illo nulla in causa confidere, vel eum pro archiepiscopo aut patre spirituali tenere volo.”

[1387] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 30. “Paterno more diligentiam, animæ illius curam, si ferre dignabitur, habebo.”

[1388] “Ad hæc ille respondit,” says Eadmer; but it can only mean an answer through messengers, as it is plain that the King and the Archbishop were still in different rooms.

[1389] “Omnino adversatur animo meo quod dicit, nec meus erit, quisquis ipsius esse delegerit.”

[1390] The answer of the lay lords must be taken as a formal setting forth of their position; one would be glad to know whose are the actual sentiments and words. It runs thus (Eadmer, 30);

“Nos nunquam fuimus homines ejus, nec fidelitatem quam ei non fecimus abjurare valemus. Archiepiscopus noster est; Christianitatem in hac terra gubernare habet, et ea re nos qui Christiani sumus ejus magisterium, dum hic vivimus, declinare non possumus, præsertim cum nullius offensæ macula illum respiciat, quæ vos secus de illo agere compellat.”

[1391] “Quod ipse repressa sustinuit ira, rationi eorum palam ne nimis offenderentur contraire præcavens.” This is perhaps a solitary case of recorded self-restraint on the part of William Rufus, at all events since the death of Lanfranc. It is significant that it should be in answer to the lay lords and not to the bishops.

[1392] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 30. “Episcopi hæc videntes, confusione vultus sui operti sunt, intelligentes omnium oculos in se converti, et apostasiam suam non injuste a cunctis detestari.” It must be remembered that apostasia is a technical term, meaning, besides its usual sense, a forsaking of his monastic vows and calling by a professed monk. Eadmer speaks of the bishops as guilty of a like offence towards their metropolitan.

[1393] The picture is very graphic; “Audires si adesses, nunc ab isto, nunc ab illo istum vel illum episcopum aliquo cognomine cum interjectione indignantis denotari, videlicet Judæ proditoris, Pilati, vel Herodis horumque similium.” One of the bishops had been likened to Judas some years before on somewhat opposite grounds.

[1394] “Requisiti a rege, utrum omnem subjectionem et obedientiam, nulla conditione interposita, an illam solam subjectionem et obedientiam, quam prætenderet ex autoritate Romani pontificis, Anselmo denegassent.”

[1395] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 31. “Hos quidem qui, nulla conditione interposita, funditus ei quicquid prælato suo debebant se abjurasse professi sunt, juxta se sicut fideles et amicos suos honorifice sedere præcepit.”

[1396] “Illos vero qui in hoc solo quod præciperet ex parte apostolici sese subjectionem et obedientiam illi abnegasse dicere ausi sunt, ut perfidos ac suæ voluntatis inimicos, procul in angulo domus sententiam suæ damnationis ira permotus jussit præstolari. Territi ergo et confusione super confusionem induti, in angulum domus secesserunt,”

[1397] “Reperto statim salubri et quo niti solebant domestico consilio, hoc est, data copiosa pecunia, in amicitiam regis recepti sunt.”

All this suggests the question, what was the course taken by Gundulf of Rochester, Anselm’s old friend, and the holder of a bishopric which stood in a specially close relation to the archbishop. In the Historia Novorum there is no mention of Gundulf; the bishops are spoken of as an united body, except so far as they were divided on this last question. But it seems implied that all disowned Anselm in one way or another. Yet in the Life (ii. 3. 24) the bishops disown him, “Rofensi solo excepto.” How are these accounts to be reconciled? If Gundulf had stood out in any marked way from the rest, Eadmer would surely have mentioned him in the Historia Novorum. One might suppose that the Bishop of Rochester, as holding of the Archbishop, was not in the company of the King’s bishops at all. But, if he had stayed outside with Anselm and Eadmer, one would have looked for that to be mentioned also. He can hardly lurk in the first person plural which Eadmer so often uses.

[1398] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 31. “Donec Deus tantæ perturbationi modum dignanter imponeret.”

[1399] “Licet discessum ejus summopere desideraret, nolebat tamen eum pontificatus dignitate saisitum discedere, ne novissimum scandalum quod inde poterat oriri pejus fieret priore. Ut vero pontificatu illum dissaisiret, impossibile sibi videbatur.” The feudal language creeps in at all corners.

[1400] “Episcoporum consilio per quod in has angustias se devolutum querebatur omisso, cum principibus consilium iniit.”

[1401] “Quatenus vir cum summa pace moneatur ad hospitium suum redire.”

[1402] “Perturbatis etiam curialibus plurimis … rati sunt quippe hominem a terra discedere, et ingemuerunt.”

[1403] “Lætus et alacer sperabat se perturbationes et onera sæculi, quod semper optabat, transito mari, evadere.”

[1404] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 31. “Ecce principes a latere regis mane directi”—the style of Emperors and Popes.

[1405] “Ascendimus, inimus, et supremam de negotio nostro sententiam avidi audire, in quo soliti eramus loco consedimus.” The word “ascendimus” might show that Anselm’s lodgings were at some point lower than the castle.

[1406] “Inducias utrimque de negotio dari quatenus hinc usque ad definitum aliquod tempus inter vos pace statuta.”

[1407] “Pacem atque concordiam non abjicio; veruntamen videor mihi videre quid ista quam offertis pax habeat in se.”

[1408] “Concedo suscipere quod domino regi et vobis placet pro pacis custodia secundum Deum statuere”—Anselm’s invariable reservation.

[1409] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 31. “Dantur induciæ usque ad octavas Pentecostes, ac regia fide sancitur, quatenus ex utraque parte interim omnia essent in pace.”

[1410] “Præsciens apud se pacem et inducias illas inane et momentaneum velamen esse odii et oppressionis mox futuræ.”

[1411] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 31. “Baldwinum monachum, in quo pars major consiliorum Anselmi pendebat.”

[1412] “Præscripti discidii causa.”

[1413] “Quid referam camerarium ejus in sua camera ante suos oculos captum, alios homines ejus injusto judicio condemnatos, deprædatos, innumeris malis afflictos?” All this was “infra dies induciarum et præfixæ pacis.” Eadmer reproaches the “regalis constantia fidei.” Rufus would have said that his faith was plighted to Anselm, not to Baldwin.

[1414] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 32. “Ut fere universi conclamarent melius sibi absque pastore jam olim fuisse quam nunc sub hujusmodi pastore esse.”

[1415] The movements of Urban at this time will be found in the Chronicle of Bernold in the fifth volume of Pertz, p. 461. Cf. Milman, Latin Christianity, iii. 215.

[1416] Bernold, ib. “Henricus autem rex dictus eo tempore in Longobardia morabatur, pene omni regia dignitate privatus. Nam filius ejus Chonradus, jam dudum in regem coronatus, se ab illo penitus separavit, et domnæ Mathildi reliquisque fidelibus sancti Petri firmiter conjunctus totum robur paterni exercitus in Longobardia obtinuit.”

[1417] Ib. “Ad quam sinodum multitudo tam innumerabilis confluxit, ut nequaquam in qualibet ecclesia illius loci posset comprehendi. Unde et domnus papa extra urbem in campo illam celebrare compulsus est; nec hoc tamen absque probabilis exempli auctoritate.” He justifies the act by the example of Moses; in England Godwine and William might have been precedents enough.

[1418] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 230.

[1419] The matters discussed are reckoned up by Bernold, u. s.

[1420] See above, p. 415.

[1421] So speaks our own Chronicler the next year. See above, p. 415.

[1422] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 32. “Siquidem ipse rex, ubi sensit Anselmum suæ voluntatis in præscripto negotio nolle obtemperare, clam et Anselmo ignorante, eosdem clericos [Girardum et Willielmum] Romam miserat, Romanæ statum ecclesiæ per eos volens certo dinoscere.”

[1423] Bernold (Pertz, v. 461) gives the details. The part which most concerns us is that the King and future Emperor is received only “salva justitia illius [Romanæ] ecclesiæ, et statutis apostolicis, maxime de investituris in spiritalibus officiis a laico non usurpandis.”

[1424] Bernold merely glances at this matter. It will be found described more at length in the hexameters of Donizo, ii. 9, Muratori, v. 374; and in the prose life of Matilda, 13, Muratori, v. 395.

[1425] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 32. “Scire veritatem hujus rei Romam missi sunt hii duo clerici, eaque cognita, jussi sunt sacris promissionibus illectum ad hoc si possent papam perducere, ut ipsi regi ad opus archiepiscopi Cantuariensis pallium, tacita persona Anselmi, destinaret, quod ipse rex, Anselmo a pontificatu simul et regno dejecto, cui vellet cum pontificatu vice apostolici postmodum daret.” The formal grant of the hereditary legation to Count Roger comes somewhat later, being given by Urban himself in 1099. (See William of Malaterra, iv. 29, Muratori, v. 602.) But the language used seems to imply that some such power practically existed already.

[1426] Ep. S. Thom, ad Cardinales, Giles, S. T. C. iii. 93. “Eo jam perventum est ut sequatur rex noster etiam Siculos, immo certe præcedat.” On the question of the legatine power supposed to have been granted, or designed to be granted, to Henry the Second, see J. C. Robertson, Becket, 106. For my purpose the general belief that something of the kind was done or designed is enough.

[1427] Bernold, ap. Pertz, v. 461.

[1428] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 32. “Hoc quippe disposuerat apud se; hoc suspicatus est non injuria sibi concedi posse, hoc indubitato fieri promittebat opinioni suæ.”

[1429] Chron. Petrib. 1095. “Eac on þis ylcan geare togeanes Eastron com þæs papan sande hider to lande, þæt wæs Waltear bisceop swiðe god lifes man, of Albin þære ceastre.” The date is strange, as he did not and could not come till after Easter.

[1430] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 32. “Præfatus episcopus Angliam veniens, secum archiepiscopatus stolam papa mittente clanculo detulit. Et silenter Cantuaria civitate pertransita, Anselmoque devitato, ad regem properabat, nulli de pallio quod ferebat quicquam dicens, nullum in absentia ductorum suorum familiariter alloquens. Rex denique præceperat ita fieri, nolens mysterium consilii sui publicari.”

[1431] Ib. 33. “Sentiens rex episcopum ex parte Urbani cuncta suæ voluntati coniventia nunciare, et ea, si ipsum Urbanum pro papa in suo regno susciperet, velle apostolica authoritate sibi dum viveret in privilegium promulgare, adquievit placito.” This is put somewhat more distinctly in the account by Hugh of Flavigny (Pertz, viii. 475, see Appendix AA); “Conventionem fecerat cum eo [Willelmo] Albanensis episcopus, quem primum illo miserat papa, ne legatus Romanus ad Angliam mitteretur nisi quem rex præciperet.”

[1432] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 32. “Nil penitus ipsi pro Anselmo locutus est, quod pacem inter eos conciliaret, quod tribulationes in quibus pro fidelitate sedis apostolice desudabat mitigaret, quod eum ad sublevandum in Anglia Christianæ religionis cultum roboraret.”

[1433] Ib. “Papæ, quid dicemus? Si aurum et argentum Roma præponit justitiæ,” &c. It must be remembered that in this sentence “Papæ” has nothing to do with “Papa.” See above, p. 292.

[1434] Ib. 33. “Præcipiens Urbanum in omni imperio suo pro apostolico haberi, eique vice beati Petri in Christiana religione obediri.”

[1435] Ib. “Egit post hæc quibus modis poterat ipse rex cum episcopo, quatenus Romani pontificis autoritate Anselmum ab episcopatu, regali potentia fultus, deponeret, spondens immensum pecuniæ pondus ei et ecclesiæ Romanæ singulis annis daturum, si in hoc suo desiderio satisfaceret.”

[1436] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 33. “Reputans apud se nihil in requisitione vel susceptione Romani antistitis se profecisse.”

[1437] “Qualiter, servata singulari celsitudinis suæ dignitate, viro saltem specie tenus amorem suum redderet, cui crudeliter iratus nihil poterat cupitæ damnationis pro voto inferre.”

[1438] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 33. “Ad eum venire et verba regis illi et illius possent regi deferre.”

[1439] “Dixi vobis jam, quod nunquam domino meo hanc contumeliam faciam ut facto probem amicitiam ejus esse venalem.”

[1440] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 33. “Dominus papa Urbanus, rogatu domini nostri regis, stolam illi archiepiscopatus per episcopum qui de Roma venit direxit.” The pallium, they said, was sent to the King, but the words which follow show that they wished it to be understood that it was meant for Anselm.

[1441] “Tuum igitur erit considerare quid tanto beneficio dignum regi rependas.”

[1442] “Laudamus et consulimus ut saltem quod in via expenderes si pro hoc Romam ires regi des, ne si nihil feceris injurius judiceris.” They enlarge also on the dangers of the way; these had certainly proved fatal to some of Anselm’s predecessors.

[1443] “Principum suorum consilio usus.”

[1444] This is not mentioned now, but it comes out afterwards; Hist. Nov. 39. See below, p. 588.

[1445] Ib. 39. “Scio quippe me [Anselmum] spopondisse consuetudines tuas, ipsas videlicet quas per rectitudinem et secundum Deum in regno tuo possides, me secundum Deum servaturum, et eas per justitiam contra omnes homines pro meo posse defensurum.”

[1446] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 33. “Cum curiæ illius apud Windlesorum se præsentasset et familiari alloquio in conspectu procerum et coadunatæ multitudinis ipsum detinuisset.”

[1447] “Ut pro regiæ majestatis honorificentia, illud per manum regis susciperet.”

[1448] “Rationabiliter ostendens hoc donum non ad regiam dignitatem, sed ad singularem beati Petri pertinere auctoritatem.”

[1449] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 34. “Quasi de manu beati Petri, pro summi quo fungebatur pontificatus honore, sumeretur.”

[1450] “Adquievit istis multitudo omnis.”

[1451] “Pœnitentiam apud illum agentes pro culpa suæ abnegationis, quam cum aliis coepiscopis suis fecerant apud Rochingeham.”

[1452] William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 302) has two appearances of Saint Wulfstan to Robert; but both come before Wulfstan’s burial. The one here meant is recorded by Florence (1095). Robert was, according to the Worcester writer, “vir magnæ religionis,” and we have a pleasing picture of “ambo patres nimia caritate in Dei dilectione et ad se invicem conjuncti.” In the Life of Wulfstan (Ang. Sac. i. 268) the Bishop of Hereford is “homo seculi quidem fretus prudentia, sed nulla solutus illecebra.”

[1453] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 34. “Ibi etiam Wilfrido episcopo sancti David de Gualis quæ vulgo Dewi vocatur, ipsa hora reddidit episcopale officium, a quo, exigente culpa ejus, jam antea ipsemet illum suspenderat.” Was Wilfrith there in person? We shall hear of him again.

[1454] Flor. Wig. 1095. “Pallium … quod juxta condictum die dominica, quæ erat iv. idus Junii, ab eodem [Waltero] Cantuariam super altare Salvatoris delatum, ab Anselmo assumptum est, atque ab omnibus pro reverentia S. Petri suppliciter deosculatum.” The details come from Eadmer; the Chronicler tells only how Walter “þam arcebisceop Ansealme uppon Pentecosten, of þæs papan healfe Urbanus, his pallium geaf, and he hine underfeng æt his arcestole on Cantwarabyrig.”

[1455] I hardly know what to make of the words of Hugh of Flavigny (Pertz, viii. 475); “Adeo auctoritas Romana apud Anglos avaritia et cupiditate legatorum viluerat, ut eodem Albanense præsente et consentiente nec contradicente, immo præcipiente, Cantuariensis archiepiscopus fidelitatem beato Petro et papæ juraverat salva fidelitate domini sui regis.” One cannot conceive any time during the Cardinal’s visit in which Anselm could be called on to make any such oath either to Pope or King except at the time of his receiving the pallium; there may be some confusion with the promise mentioned in p. 531.

[1456] This coincidence is noticed by Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 34.

[1457] Such is the pious belief of Florence; “Credi fas est, ipsum qui prius de hoc sæculo ad Deum migravit sollicitudinem egisse sui dilectissimi, quem in hoc sæculo reliquit, et ut quam citius simul ante Deum gauderent operam dedisse.”

[1458] Hugh of Flavigny, directly after the passage just quoted (Pertz, viii. 475), goes on to say, “Quæ res in tantum adoleverat, ut nullus ex parte papæ veniens honore debito exciperetur, nullus esset in Anglia archiepiscopus, episcopus, abbas, nedum monachus aut clericus, qui litteras apostolicas suscipere auderet, nedum obedire, nisi rex juberet.”

[1459] This is noticed by the Chronicler; “And se bisceop Waltear has on lande þæs geares syððan lange wunode, and man syððan þæt Romgesceot be him sende, swa man manegan gearan æror ne dyde.”

[1460] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 430.

[1461] Epp. iii. 35. “Vestra prudentia non ignorat quia nos duo nihil efficeremus, nisi regi suggestum esset, ut ejus assensu et auxilio ad effectum perduceretur quod disponeremus.” The military history which this letter casually opens to us, and of which we have no mention elsewhere, will come in the next chapter.

[1462] “Expecto reditum domini mei regis, et episcoporum et principum qui cum eo sunt, quatenus illi quæ agenda sunt, opportune et rationabiliter suggeramus.” So in the next letter (Epp. iii. 36) he says more distinctly that he would like to meet the Cardinal, “si congruo tempore factum esset, id est quando dominus meus rex, et episcopi, et principes hujus regni vobis præsentes aut propinqui erant.”

[1463] Epp. iii. 36. “Vos ab illis et ego a vobis discessimus, veluti non nos in hac terra amplius invicem visuri.”

[1464] Epp. iii. 35. See the next chapter.

[1465] Ib. “Rex ore suo mihi præcepit … et postquam Cantuarberiam reddi mihi mandavit per litteras proprio sigillo signatas.”

[1466] Ib. “Idcirco de Cantuaria exire non audeo, nisi in illam partem ex qua hostium expectamus adventum.”

[1467] Ib. 36. “Quod quæritis a me cur et qua justitia episcopi alii me abnegantes a me discesserunt, nec sunt reversi dignam agentes pœnitentiam, hoc potius ab illis quærendum erat quam a me.”

[1468] Ib. “Reversi hactenus sunt ut illam obedientiam quam Cantuariensi sedi promiserant se mihi servaturos faterentur.”

[1469] Epp. iii. 36. “Dicitis quosdam illorum vobis dixisse ideo non offendisse in me, quia permisi me a catholica ecclesia transferri ad schismaticos et ab illis consecrari, si fieri, sicut additis, potest; et a schismatico rege investituram accepisse, et illi fidelitatem et hominium fecisse, quos omnes sciebam esse schismaticos et divisos ab ecclesia Christi, et a capite meo Urbano pontifice, quem ipsi, me audiente, abnegabant.”

[1470] Epp. iii. 36. “Illi non abnegabant canonicum Romanum pontificem, quicunque esset, nec Urbanum negabant esse pontificem; sed dubitabant propter illam quæ modo nata est dissensionem, et propter dubitationem illum suscipere quasi certum differebant; nec ullum judicium illos ab ecclesia segregaverat, et omnino obedientiam Romanæ sedis tenere se fatebantur et sub professione obedientiæ Romani pontificis me consecrarunt.”

[1471] Ib. “Denique dominus papa sciebat me esse consecratum et a quibus, et cui regi feceram quod feci. Et tamen pallium quod archiepiscopus Cantuariæ solet habere, mihi per vestram caritatem, non ut schismatico, sed ut accepto, non ut reprobans, sed ut approbans misit, et sic quod de me factum erat confirmavit.”

[1472] Ib. “Si vobis hæc calumnia attendenda videtur, cur earn ante pallii concessionem mihi tacuistis? Si negligenda putatur, vos judicate quam diligenter sit a vobis inculcanda.”

[1473] Ib. “Rogatis me ut fratres nostros Cantuariensis ecclesiæ quiete ac pacifice possidere dimittam res suas.”

[1474] Ib. “Nullus magis desiderat quietem ac pacem illorum quam ego, nec magis sollicitus est pro utilitate ejusdem ecclesiæ; et idcirco voluntas mea est ut res ejus, Deo annuente, disponam ad utilitatem præsentem et futuram, prout melius sciam et potero.”

[1475] This question is argued by Eadmer in the Life, ii. 1. 9.

[1476] Ib. “Si Cantuariam assidue incoleret, homines sui ex advectione victualium oppido gravarentur; et insuper a præpositis, ut sæpe contingebat, multis ex causis oppressi, si quem interpellarent, nunquam præsentem haberent, magis ac magis oppressi in destructionem funditus irent.” Of the doings of reeves of all kinds we have often heard. See specially N. C. vol. iv. p. 616.

[1477] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 34.

[1478] This would seem to be the time when Anselm’s practice of various virtues is so fully described by Eadmer in the first and second chapters of the second book of the Life.

[1479] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 340. He appears in the Gesta Pontificum, 289, as “Samson, canonicus Baiocensis, non parvæ literaturæ vir nec contemnendæ facundiæ. Antiquorum homo morum, ipse liberaliter vesci, et aliis dapsiliter largiri.” But this last description is substituted for an amazing account of his appetite, specially in the way of fowls and swine’s flesh (cf. the account of King Æthelred in N. C. vol. i. p. 658), and how he died of fat. He fed however three hundred poor men daily.

[1480] His kindred to the elder and the younger Thomas appears in the suppressed passage of William of Malmesbury. Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 35) says of the two bishops-elect, “Qui cum in summum promovendi sacerdotium ad Anselmum pro more venissent, necdum omnes inferiores ordines habuissent, ordinavit eos pro instanti necessitate, ad diaconatum et presbyteratum unum, et alium ad presbyteratum.” The canon of Bayeux would be more likely than the King’s clerk to have the higher degree.

[1481] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 290. But the first and second versions are worth comparing. It has a curiously modern sound when we read, “Quotiens Lundonia rediret, aliquid pretiosum afferret, quod esset ornamento ecclesiæ.” But it is a witness to the growing importance of London.

[1482] William of Malmesbury has a first and a second edition (Gest. Pont. 259) in the case of Gerard also. According to rumour, “multorum criminum et maxime libidini obnoxius erat.” He was suspected of magic, from his constant study of Julius Firmicus. According to Hugh of Flavigny (Pertz, viii. 496), he sacrificed a pig to the devil, while of his brother more wonderful things still were told. See Pertz, viii. 496, and Appendix G.

[1483] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 35.

[1484] See above, p. 448, and Appendix X.

[1485] Eadmer gives the account of these Irish bishops (Hist. Nov. 34, 36). Samuel is described as being “a rege Hiberniæ Murierdach nomine, necne a clero et populo in episcopatum ipsius civitatis electus est, atque ad Anselmum, juxta morem antiquum, sacrandus cum communi decreto directus.” Of King Muirchertach, whose name is written endless ways, and whom it is well perhaps to shorten into Murtagh, we shall hear again. He was King of Leinster, and Bretwalda, so to speak, of all Ireland, though it seems that he was not acknowledged always and everywhere. He signs the letter to Anselm which appears in Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 36) on behalf of Malchus, which professes to come from the “clerus et populus oppidi Wataferdiæ, cum rege Murchertacho, et episcopo Dofnaldo.” There are also two letters of Anselm to him (Ep. iii. 142, 147), chiefly about ecclesiastical reforms in Ireland. Anselm also speaks of a brother Cornelius, whom the Irish king had asked for, but who could not go, because he was taking care of his aged father. This is one of those little personal touches which make us wish to know more.

[1486] Orderic and William of Malmesbury stand conspicuous.

[1487] See the Chronicle, 1096. I quoted the passage in N. C. vol. iv. p. 93.

[1488] Ib.

[1489] See N. C. vol. v. p. 356.

[1490] Ib. p. 93.

[1491] See above, p. 411.

[1492] Urban came from Rheims, but it is important to remember how little entitled Auvergne was in that day to the French name. This comes out oddly enough in an entry in the Chronicle, 1102, when thieves of all parts seem to have conspired to rob the minster of Peterborough; “Þa coman þeofas sum of Aluearnie, sum of France, and sum of Flanders, and breokan þæt mynstre of Burh.”

[1493] William of Malmesbury (iv. 344) draws a grievous picture of the state of things among the “Cisalpini,” who “ad hæc calamitatis omnes devenerant, ut nullis vel minimis causis extantibus quisque alium caperet, nec nisi magno redemptum abire sineret.” He then speaks at some length of simony, and adds; “Tunc legitimis uxoribus exclusis, multi contrahebant divortium, alienum expugnantes matrimonium; quare, quia in his et illis erat confusa criminum silva, ad pœnam quorundam potentiorum designata sunt nomina.”

[1494] The great provision of all is (Will. Malms. iv. 345), “Quod ecclesia catholica sit in fide, casta, libera ab omni servitute; ut episcopi, vel abbates, vel aliquis de clero, aliquam ecclesiasticam dignitatem de manu principum vel quorumlibet laicorum non accipiant.” This decree does not appear among the acts of Piacenza in Bernold, 1095 (Pertz, v. 462).

Among so many more stirring affairs, one decree of this council, which has a good deal of interest, might easily be forgotten. This is one which was meant to reform the abuses of the privileges of sanctuary; “Qui ad ecclesiam vel ad crucem confugerint, data membrorum impunitate, justitiæ tradantur, vel innocentes liberentur.” Are we to see here the first beginning of a feeling against mutilation, which came in bit by bit in the next century? The guilty man is to be punished, but in some other way than by loss of limb.

[1495] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 429.

[1496] Philip had professed all intention of coming to Piacenza; he had even set out; “Se ad illam itiner incepisse, sed legitimis soniis se impeditum fuisse mandavit.” (Bernold, u. s.) He was allowed, like Anselm, “indutiæ” till Whitsuntide; but now the decree went forth (Will. Malms. iv. 345) against Philip himself; “Et omnes qui eum vel regem vel dominum suum vocaverint, et ei obedierint, et ei locuti fuerint nisi quod pertinet ad eum corrigendum. Similiter et illam maledictam conjugem ejus, et omnes qui eam reginam vel dominam nominaverint, quousque ad emendationem venerint, ita ut alter ab altero discedat.”

[1497] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 696.

[1498] Ib. vol. iv. p. 648.

[1499] The marriage is recorded by Orderic (vii. 23 D). There is a letter of Bishop Ivo of Chartres addressed to the clergy of Meulan and to all persons within the archdeaconry of Poissy. He denounces the intended marriage on the ground of kindred, and bids them send the letter to the Count of Meulan. The kindred is said to be “nec ignota, nec remota;” but it consisted in this, that Robert and Isabel had a common forefather removed by four degrees from Robert and five from Isabel. Robert was thus, as we should have expected, a generation older than his wife.

[1500] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 130, 166, 744.

[1501] See above, p. 269.

[1502] See above, p. 473.

[1503] Her second marriage with Drogo of Moncey is recorded in Will. Gem. viii. 8. Drogo was a fellow crusader (Ord. Vit. 723 D).

[1504] See Ord. Vit. 535 C, 724 C, 729 D, where we hear of him before Nikaia.

[1505] This comes from Hugh of Flavigny, Pertz, viii. 474; “Tunc temporis pro componenda inter fratres Willelmi regis filios concordia, Willelmum videlicet regem Anglorum et Robertum comitem Normannorum, abbas Divionensis ex præcepto papæ mare transierat, et ut præscriptum regem ammoneret de multis quæ illicite fiebant ab eo, de episcopatibus videlicet et abbatiis quas sibi retinebat, nec eis pastores providebat, et reditus proventusque omnium sibi assumebat, de symonia, de fornicatione clericorum.”

[1506] Ib. “Qui veniens tanta libertate usus est, ut rex, integritate ejus inspecta et inadulata mentis constantia, se consiliis et votis ejus adquieturum promitteret, ut omnes fideles gratularentur eum advenisse, ad cujus adventum quasi respiraret et resurgeret decus et vigor ecclesiæ Anglicæ et libertas Romanæ auctoritatis.”

[1507] Ib. “Sed quid imperturbatum relinquit inexplebilis gurges Romanæ avaritiæ? Rex suspectam habens viri auctoritatem, quem jam diu venturum audierat, legatum papæ præmiserat, et in manu ejus auri probati et purissimi 10 marchas.”

[1508] See Appendix AA.

[1509] The accounts do not exactly agree; but every version makes the terms such that the duchy was not ceded for ever, but could under some circumstances be recovered. The Chronicler puts it pithily, but without details; “Ðurh þas fare [that is the crusade] wearð se cyng and his broðor Rodbeard eorl sehte swa þæt se cyng ofer sæ fór, and eall Normandig æt him mid feo alisde, swa swa hi þa sehte wæron.” Florence calls the transaction “vadimonium,” and mentions the price, 10,000 marks, or 6,666l. With this William of Malmesbury agrees; Eadmer and Hugh of Flavigny make it a pledge for three years. Hugh’s words (Pertz, viii. 475) are; “Pro componenda inter fratres pacis concordia in Normannia substitit donec, pace facta, decem milium marcarum pensione accepta, terram suam comes Normanniæ regi Anglorum usque ad trium annorum spacium custodiendam traderet.” “Pensio” must here be taken in the sense of a single payment. Eadmer’s words are; “Normanniam spatio trium annorum pecuniæ gratis in dominium tradidit.” Orderic (723 A) makes the time five years; “Rex Anglorum … Normanniam usque ad quinque annos servaturus recepit, fratrique suo ad viam Domini peragendam decem milia marcos argenti erogavit.” Robert of Torigny (Will. Gem. viii. 7) mentions no number of years, but makes the bargain last as long as Robert shall be away; “Rex Willelmus in Normanniam transfretans, decies mille marcas argenti ea conditione Roberto duci commodavit, ut quamdiu idem Dux in prædicta peregrinatione moraretur, ipse ducatum Normanniæ pro eis vadem haberet, illum duci restituturus cum ipse sibi prætaxatam pecuniam rediens reconsignasset.”

[1510] See Appendix X.

[1511] See above, p. 438.

[1512] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 35. “Quæ pecunia per Angliam, partim data, partim exacta, totum regnum in immensum vastavit.”

[1513] Chron. Petrib. 1096. “Ðis wæs swiðe hefigtíme gear geond eall Angelcyn, ægðer ge þurh mænigfealde gylda and eac þurh swiðe hefigtymne hunger, þe þisne eard þæs geares swiðe gedrehte.”

[1514] Flor. Wig. 1091. “Comites, barones, vicecomites, suos milites et villanos spoliaverunt.”

[1515] Will. Malms. iv., iv. 318. “Super violentia querimoniam facientes, non se posse ad tantum vectigal sufficere, nisi si miseros agricolas omnino effugarent.”

[1516] Will. Malms. iv. 318. “Quibus curiales, turbido, ut solebant, vultu, ‘Non habetis,’ inquiunt, ‘scrinia auro et argento composita, ossibus mortuorum plena? nullo alio responso obsecrantes dignati.’”

[1517] Ib. “Ita illi, intelligentes quo responsio tenderet, capsas sanctorum nudaverunt, crucifixos despoliaverunt, calices conflarunt, non in usum pauperum, sed in fiscum regium: quicquid enim pene sancta servavit avorum parcitas, illorum grassatorum absumsit aviditas.” Cf. the account of the spoliation of Waltham in Appendix H.

[1518] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 35. “Conventus est et Anselmus per id temporis, et ut ipse quoque manum auxilii sui in tam rationabili causa regi extenderet, a quibusdam suis est amicis admonitus.”

[1519] Eadmer describes this transaction at length; and adds that Anselm gave the two hundred pounds to the King, “cum illis quæ de suis habere poterat pro instanti necessitate, ut rebus consuleret.”

[1520] This fact comes from a letter of Bishop Ivo of Chartres (Du Chesne, iv. 219) addressed to King Philip; “Excellentiæ vestræ litteras nuper accepi, quibus submonebar ut apud Pontesium vel Calvummontem cum manu militum vobis die quam statueratis occurrerem, iturus vobiscum ad placitum quod futurum est inter regem Anglorum, et comitem Normannorum, quod facere ad præsens magnæ et multæ causæ me prohibent.” One of these reasons is that he will not have anything to do with Bertrada, against whom he again strongly exhorts the King. He himself will not be safe in the King’s court, because of her devices; such at least seems to be the meaning of the general remark, “Postremo novit vestra serenitas, quia non est mihi in curia vestra plena securitas, in qua ille sexus mihi est suspectus et infestus, qui etiam amicis aliquando non satis est fidus.” Another reason is more curious, and seems to imply that some fighting was looked for; “Præterea casati ecclesiæ, et reliqui milites pene omnes vel absunt, vel pro pace violata excommunicati sunt: quos sine satisfactione reconciliare non valeo et excommunicatos in hostem mittere non debeo.”

[1521] Ord. Vit. 675 A. “Odo Baiocensis episcopus cum Rodberto duce, nepote suo, peregrinatus est. Tantus enim erat rancor inter ipsum et regem pro transactis simultatibus, ut nullatenus pacificari possent ab ullis caduceatoribus. Rex siquidem magnanimus et iracundus et tenacis erat memoriæ, nec injuriam sibimet irrogatam facile obliviscebatur sine ultione.”

[1522] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 714.

[1523] We learn a great deal about Robert on the crusade from the Life of Lanfranc by Ralph of Caen, in the fifth volume of Muratori. One passage describing his character has been already quoted. We shall see some special cases as we go on. But it is worth while to compare the “regius sanguis Willelmides” of c. 22 with the picture in c. 58. In this last Robert makes up to the English at Laodikeia “spe dominationis.” Were they to help him in any attempt on the English crown?

[1524] I refer to Sir Francis Palgrave’s chapter “Robert the Crusader,” the eleventh in the fourth volume of his “Normandy and England.” He goes further off from the scene of our common story than I can undertake to follow him.

[1525] Will. Malms. iv. 350. But our best account just at this moment is that by Fulcher of Chartres in the “Gesta Dei per Francos,” which Orderic (718 B) witnesses to as a “certum et verax volumen.” Here we read (385), “Nos Franci occidentales, per Italiam excursa Gallia transeuntes cum usque Lucam pervenissemus, invenimus prope urbem illam Urbanum apostolicum, cum quo locuti sunt comes Robertus Normannus, et comes Stephanus, nos quoque cæteri qui voluimus.”

[1526] Fulcher (u. s.) graphically describes this scene; “Cum in basilica beati Petri introissemus, invenimus ante altare homines Guiberti, papæ stolidi, qui oblationes altari superpositas, gladios suos in manibus tenentes, inique arripiebant: alii vero super trabes ejusdem monasterii cursitabant; et inde deorsum ubi prostrati orabamus, lapides jaciebant.”

[1527] Ord. Vit. 724 D. “Rogerius dux, cognomento Bursa, ducem Normanniæ cum sociis suis, utpote naturalem dominum suum, honorifice suscepit.”

[1528] He is “Marcus Buamundus” in Orderic, who afterwards (817 A) tells the story of his two names. When he went through Gaul, he stood godfather to many children, “quibus etiam cognomen suum imponebat. Marcus quippe in baptismate nominatus est; sed a patre suo, audita in convivio joculari fabula de Buamundo gigante, puero jocunde impositum est. Quod nimirum postea per totum mundum personuit, et innumeris in tripertito climate orbis alacriter innotuit. Hoc exinde nomen celebre divulgatum est in Galliis, quod antea inusitatum erat pene omnibus occiduis.” Orderic is always careful about names, specially double names. See another account in Will. Malms. iv. 387.

[1529] Orderic (724 D) says merely “quoddam castrum,” but it appears from Geoffrey Malaterra (iv. 24) and Lupus Protospata, 1096 (Muratori, v. 47), that the place besieged was Amalfi. Count Roger of Sicily brought with him ten thousand Saracens.

[1530] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Sibi tandem optimum afferri pallium præcepit, quod per particulas concidit, et crucem unicuique suorum distribuit, suamque sibi retinuit.”

[1531] Fulcher, 585. “Tunc plurimi de pauperibus vel ignavis, inopiam futuram metuentes, arcubus suis venditis, et baculis peregrinationis resumptis, ad mansiones suas regressi sunt. Qua de re viles tam Deo quam hominibus facti sunt: et versum est eis in opprobrium.” So William of Malmesbury, iv. 353, who adds that “pars pro intemperie soli morbo defecit.”

[1532] See Historical Essays, Third Series, 473, 474.

[1533] Ord. Vit. 765 B, C.

[1534] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 625, 626.

[1535] Orderic (u. s.) says, “tranquillo remige in Bulgariæ partibus applicuit.” Fulcher is naturally more exact. They land at Dyrrhachion (386), and then “Bulgarorum regiones, per montium prærupta et loca satis deserta, transivimus.” He gives several curious details of the voyage and march.

[1536] Fulcher bursts into ecstasy at the sight of Constantinople, and William of Malmesbury takes the opportunity to tell its history. From iv. 356 and the note it appears that he knew his Emperors, and that his editor did not.

[1537] See Fulcher, 386; Orderic, 728 A; Will. Malms. iv. 357. They all record the homage, except in the case of Count Raymond of Toulouse, who would only swear, but not do homage. The Count of Flanders seems a little doubtful; but the words of William of Malmesbury are explicit as to Robert; “Normannus itaque et Blesensis comites hominium suum Græco prostraverunt; nam jam Flandrita transierat, et id facere fastidierat, quod se meminisset natum et educatum libere.” Orderic seems to take a real pleasure in speaking of Alexios as Augustus and Cæsar, the latter title being a little beneath him. His subjects however are not only “Græci,” but “Pelasgi,” “Achæi,” anything that would do for the grand style. Presently Nikaia appears (728 B) as “totius Romaniæ caput.” So William of Malmesbury speaks of “Minor Asia quam Romaniam dicunt.” Here “Romania” means specially the Turkish kingdom of Roum; in more accurate geography it takes in the European provinces of the Empire.

[1538] See above, p. 560, and Ord. Vit. 778 A, B, where he describes the coming of Eadgar, of which more in a later chapter, and his near friendship with Robert.

[1539] The words of Ralph of Caen (c. 58) on this head are very emphatic; “Normannus comes ingressus Laodiciam somno vacabat, et otio; nec inutilis tamen, dum opulentiam nactus aliis indigentibus large erogabat; quoniam conserva Cyprus Baccho, Cerere, et multo pecore abundans, Laodiciam repleverat, quippe indigentem vicinam Christicolam, et quasi collacteam; ipsa namque una in littore Syro et Christum colebat et Alexio serviebat. Sed nec sic excussato otio, prædictus comes frustra semel atque iterum ad castra revocatur. Tertio sub anathemate accitus, redit invitus; difficilem enim habebat transitum commeatio, quæ comiti ministrare Laodicia veniens debebat.”

[1540] Ord. Vit. 753 A. We have heard of Hugh before, N. C. vol. iv. p. 493. We now read that “Susceptus a Normannico duce, multum suis profuit et mores ethnicos ac tergiversationes subdolas et fraudes, quibus contra fideles callent, enucleavit.”

[1541] Ib. “Cosan etiam, nobilis heros et potens de Turcorum prosapia, Christianos ultro adiit, multisque modis ad capiendam urbem eos adjuvit. In Christum enim fideliter credebat, et sacro baptismate regenerari peroptabat. Ideoque nostratibus, ut amicis et fratribus, ad obtinendum decus Palæstinæ et metropoli Davitici regni summopere suffragari satagebat.”

[1542] “Furtivi funambuli” was the name given to Ivo and Alberic of Grantmesnil and certain others. See Orderic, 738 D. Stephen of Chartres too decamped for a while in a manner which did not please his wife.

[1543] The words of William of Malmesbury (iv. 389) are remarkable; “Robertus, Jerosolymam veniens, indelibili macula nobilitatem suam respersit, quod regnum, consensu omnium sibi utpote regis filio delatum, recusaret, non reverentiæ, ut fertur, contuitu, sed laborum inextricabilium metu.”

[1544] His exploits in the storm come out in all the accounts. In William of Malmesbury (iv. 369) he and his namesake of Flanders are as usual grouped together; “Hæc quidem victoria in parte Godefridi et duorum Robertorum evenit.”

[1545] Will. Malms. iv. 371. “Duces, et maxime Robertus Normannus, qui antesignanus erat, arte artem, vel potius virtute calliditatem eludentes, sagittariis et peditibus deductis, medias gentilium perruperunt acies.” This seems to prove more than the story in iv. 389, where Robert, with Philip of Montgomery and others, makes use of the worn-out stratagem of the feigned flight.

[1546] Robert of Torigny, 1096. “Comes Henricus contulit se ad regem Willermum, atque omnino cum eo remansit; cui idem rex comitatum Constantiensem et Baiocensem, præter civitatem Baiocas et oppidum Cadomi, ex integro concessit.”

[1547] Ord. Vit. 721 B. This decree heads the acts of the council; “Statuit synodus sancta, ut trevia Dei firmiter custodiatur,” &c.

[1548] Ib. C. All persons from twelve years of age are to swear that they will keep the Truce, and will help their several bishops and archdeacons, “ita ut, si me monuerint ad eundum super eos, nec diffugiam nec dissimulabo, sed cum armis meis cum ipso proficiscar, et omnibus, quibus potero, juvabo adversus illos per fidem sine malo ingenio, secundum meam conscientiam.”

[1549] Ib. D. “Hoc anathemate feriuntur falsarii et raptores et emptores prædarum, et qui in castris congregantur propter exercendas rapinas, et domini qui amodo eos retinuerint in castris suis. Et auctoritate apostolica et nostra prohibemus ut nulla Christianitas fiat in terris dominorum illorum.”

[1550] Ord. Vit. 721 D. “Et quod nullus laicus participationem habeat in tertia parte decimæ, vel in sepultura, vel in oblatione altaris.”

[1551] Ib. “Nec servitium, nec aliquam exactionem inde exigat, præter eam quæ tempore Guillelmi regis constituta fuit.”

[1552] Orderic draws a special picture (722 D, 723 C), winding up with “Sic Normannia suis in se filiis furentibus miserabiliter turbata est, et plebs inermis sine patrono desolata est.”

[1553] Ord. Vit. 765 C. “Guillelmus itaque rex Normanniam possedit, et dominia patris sui, quæ frater suus insipienter distraxerat, sibi mancipavit.”

[1554] Ib. “Ecclesias pastoribus viduatas electis pro modulo suo rectoribus commisit.” Or do these words imply simony? They might merely imply lay nomination and investiture.

[1555] Ib.

[1556] Ib.

[1557] Ord. Vit. 765 C. “Turoldo fratri Hugonis de Ebremou episcopatum dedit.” Hugh of Evermouth occurs in the false Ingulf, 77 (not so in Domesday), as lord of Bourne and Deeping.

[1558] Ib. “Pro quibusdam arcanis ultro reliquit.”

[1559] I shall speak of these Welsh wars in full in the next chapter.

[1560] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Se cyng Willelm … togeanes Eastron hider to lande for, forðam he þohte his hired on Winceastre to healdenne; ac he wearð þurh weder gelét oððet Eastre æfen, þæt he up com ærost æt Arundel, and forþi his hired æt Windlesoran heold.”

[1561] Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 37) makes a great deal more than enough of this submission, when he says; “Super Walenses qui contra eum surrexerant exercitum duxit, eosque post modicum in deditionem suscipit, et pace undique potitus est.” But this would doubtless be the impression of the moment.

[1562] Ib. “Cum jam multi sperarent, quod hæc pax servitio Dei deberet militare, et attenti exspectarent aliquid magni pro emendatione Christianitatis ex regis assensu archiepiscopum promulgare.”

[1563] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 37. “Ecce spei hujus et exspectationis turbatorias literas rex, a Gualis reversus, archiepiscopo destinat, mandans in illis se pro militibus quos in expeditionem suam miserat nullas ei nisi malas gratias habere, eo quod nec convenienter, sicut aiebat, instructi, nec ad bella fuerant pro negotii qualitate idonei.”

[1564] See N. C. vol. v. p. 372.

[1565] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 37. “Præcepit ut paratus esset de his, juxta judicium curiæ suæ, sibimet rectitudinem facere, quandocumque sibi placeret inde eum appellare.”

[1566] Ib. “Licet jam olim sciverit se, eodem rege superstite, in Anglia Christo non adeo fructificaturum.”

[1567] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 37. “Rogatus de subventione Christianitatis, nonnumquam solebat respondere se propter hostes quos infestos circumquaque habebat eo intendere non valere.”

[1568] Ib. “Jam tunc illum pace potitum cogitaverat super hac re convenire, et saltem ad consensum alicujus boni fructus exsequendi quibus modis posset attrahendo delinire.”

[1569] Ib. “Quod ille dinoscens, et insuper cuncta regalis curiæ judicia pendere ad nutum regis, nilque in ipsis nisi solum velle illius considerari certissime sciens, indecens æstimavit pro verbi calumnia placitantium more contendere, et veritatis suæ causam curiali judicio, quod nulla lex, nulla æquitas, nulla ratio, muniebat, examinandam introducere.” As I understand this, he does not decline the authority of the court; he simply determines to make no defence, and to leave things to take their course.

How far did the court deserve the character which Eadmer gives of it? At this stage of the constitution, we are met at every step by the difficulty of distinguishing between the greater curia regis, which was in truth the Witenagemót, and the smaller curia regis of the King’s immediate officials and counsellors, the successor of the Theningmannagemót (see N. C. vol. v. pp. 423, 878). Eadmer’s picture would, under Rufus, be true enough of the smaller body. The event at Rockingham had shown that it was not always true of the larger.

[1570] We read directly after (Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 37) what was expected to happen;—“ut culpæ addictus, aut ingentem regi pecuniam penderet, aut ad implorandam misericordiam ejus, caput amplius non levaturus, se totum impenderet.” Anselm was determined to avoid the latter alternative.

[1571] “Causa discidii utique, non ex rei veritate producta, sed ad omnem pro Deo loquendi aditum Anselmo intercludendum malitiose composita.”

[1572] Ib. “Tacuit ergo, nec quicquam nuntio respondit, reputans hoc genus mandati ad ea perturbationum genera pertinere quæ jam olim sæpe sibi recordabatur illata, et ideo hoc solum ut Deus talia sedaret supplici corde precabatur.”

[1573] Ib. “Verebatur ne hæc Dei judicio sibi damno fierent, si quibus modis posset eis obviare non intenderet.”

[1574] Ib. “Sed obviare sibi impossibile videbat, quod totius regni principem aut ea facere aut eis favere perspicuum erat. Visum itaque sibi est auctoritatem et sententiam apostolicæ sedis super his oportere inquiri.” Yet that he did design a last effort with the King, before he said anything about the Pope, is plain by his actually attempting it.

[1575] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 37. “Cum igitur in Pentecoste, festivitatis gratia, regiæ curiæ se præsentasset, et modo inter prandendum, modo alias quemadmodum opportunitas se offerebat, statum animi regalis quis erga colendam æquitatem esset studiose perquisisset, eumque qui olim fuerat omnimodo reperisset, nihil spei de futura ipsius emendatione in eo ultra remansit.”

[1576] Ib. “Peractis igitur festivioribus diebus, diversorum negotiorum causæ in medium duci ex more cœperunt.” This notice is important as showing us the order in which business was done in these assemblies.

[1577] Ib. “Ut culpæ addictus aut ingentem regi pecuniam penderet, aut ad implorandam misericordiam, ejus caput amplius non levaturus, se totum impenderet.”

[1578] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 37. “Accersitis ad se quos volebat de principibus regis, mandavit per eos regi se summa necessitate constrictum velle, per licentiam ipsius, Romam ire.”

[1579] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 38. “Potestas in manu sua est; dicit quod sibi placet. At si modo non vult concedere, concedet forsitan alia vice. Ego preces multiplicabo.”

[1580] Ib. “Insequenti mense Augusto cum de statu regni acturus rex episcopos, abbates, et quosque regni proceres, in unum præcepti sui sanctione egisset.”

[1581] Anselm made his petition, “dispositis his quæ adunationis illorum causæ fuerant, dum quisque in sua repedare sategisset.”

[1582] Ammianus, xxi. 18.

[1583] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 38. “Conturbat me, et intelligentem non concedendum fore quod postulat, sua graviter importunitate fatigat; quapropter jubeo ut amplius ab hujusmodi precibus cesset, et qui me jam sæpe vexavit, prout judicabitur mihi emendet.”

[1584] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 38. “Si iverit, pro certo noverit quod totum archiepiscopatum in dominium meum redigam, nec ilium pro archiepiscopo ultra recipiam.”

[1585] Ib. “Orta est ex his quædam magna tempestas diversis diversæ parti acclamantibus.”

[1586] Ib. “Quidam permoti suaserunt in crastinum rem differri, sperantes eam alio modo sedari.”

[1587] Ib. “Indubitanter sciens quod causa meæ salutis, causa sanctæ Christianitatis, et vere causa sui honoris ac profectus, si credere velit, ire dispono.”

[1588] Eadmer Hist. Nov. 38. “In hoc scilicet, ut, spreto tanti pontificatus honore simul et utilitate, Romam petas, non leve est credere quod stabilis maneas.”

[1589] Ib. “Si ita fideliter et districte vultis in mea parte considerare atque tueri rectitudinem et justitiam Dei, sicut in parte alterius perpenditis atque tuemini jura et usus mortalis hominis.”

[1590] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 38. “Audiam sequarque consilium quod mihi inde vestra fida Deo industria dabit.”

[1591] Ib. 39. “Domine pater, scimus te virum religiosum esse ac sanctum, et in cælis conversationem tuam. Nos autem, impediti consanguineis nostris quos sustentamus et multiplicibus sæculi rebus quas amamus, fatemur, ad sublimitatem vitæ tuæ surgere nequimus, nec huic mundo tecum illudere.”

[1592] Ib. “Si volueris ad nos usque descendere, et qua incedimus via nobiscum pergere.”

[1593] Ib. “Si te ad Deum solummodo quemadmodum cœpisti tenere delegeris solus.”

[1594] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 38. “Bene dixistis, Ite ergo ad dominum vestrum, ergo me tenebo ad Deum.”

[1595] Ib. “Unoquoque nostrum qui admodum pauci cum eo remansimus ad imperium illius singulatim sedente, et Deum pro digestione ipsius negotii interpellante.” There is something strange in this last word.

[1596] We here get a climax; “Sæpe diversis eum querelis exagitasti, exacerbasti, cruciasti.”

[1597] The wording is remarkable and subtle; “Cum tandem post placitum quod totius regni adunatione contra te apud Rockingeham habitum est, eum tibi sicut dominum tuum reconciliari sapienter peteres; et, adjutus meritis et precibus plurimorum pro te studiose intervenientium, petitioni tuæ effectum obtineres.”

[1598] See above, p. 531.

[1599] Hist. Nov. 39. “Quibus opem credulus factus sperabat se de cætero quietum fore.”

[1600] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 39. “Hanc pollicitationem, hanc fidem, en tu patenter egrederis, dum Romam, non expectata licentia ejus, te iturum minaris.”

[1601] Ib. “Tunc te ad judicium curiæ suæ præcepit sibi emendare, quod de re in qua non eras certus te perseveraturum, ausus fuisti eum totiens inquietare.”

[1602] Ib. “Dextram illius ex more assedit.” Here is the distinct mention of a custom which we have come across before.

[1603] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 39. “Scio me spopondisse consuetudines tuas, ipsas videlicet quas per rectitudinem et secundum Deum in regno tuo possides, me secundum Deum servaturum.”

[1604] Ib. “Cum rex et principes sui cæca mente objicerent, ac jurisjurandi interjectione firmarent, nec Dei nec rectitudinis in ipsa sponsione ullam mentionem factam fuisse.”

[1605] Ib. 40. “Cum ad hæc illi summurmurantes contra virum capita moverent, nec tamen quid certi viva voce proferrent.”

[1606] Ib. “Cum fides quæ fit homini per fidem Dei roboretur, liquet quod eadem fides, si quando contraria fidei Dei admittit, enervatur.”

[1607] Hist. Nov. 40. “Tunc rex et comes de Mellento Robertus nomine, interrumpentes verba ejus, ‘O, O, dixerunt, prædicatio est quod dicit, prædicatio est: non rei de qua agitur ulla quæ recipienda sit a prudentibus ratio.’”

[1608] Ib. “Ipse inter ora perstrepentium, demisso vultu, mitis sedebat, et clamores eorum quasi surda aure despiciebat. Fatigatis autem eis a proprio strepitu, sedatoque tumultu, Anselmus ad verba sua remeat.”

[1609] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 40. “His verbis præfatus comes indignando suburgens, ait, Eia, eia, Petro et papæ te præsentabis, et nos equidem non transibit quod scimus.” I can only guess at the meaning of these last words.

[1610] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 40. “Ecce ibis. Veruntamen scias dominum nostrum pati nolle te exeuntem quicquam de suis tecum ferre.”

[1611] See above, p. 93.

[1612] Hist. Nov. 40. “In istis princeps pudore suffusus, dictum suum non ita intellexisse se respondit.”

[1613] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 41. “Mox ille surgens, levata dextra signum sanctæ crucis super regem ad hoc caput humiliantem edidit, et abscessit, viri alacritatem rege cum suis admirante.”

[1614] “Ubi sedes pontificalis, ubi totius regni caput est atque primatus,” Eadmer takes care to add.

[1615] For the discourse we have to go to the Life, ii. 3. 30. It contains the remarkable passage which I referred to in N. C. vol. iv. p. 52.

[1616] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 41. “In qua mora idem Willielmus, cum patre intrans et exiens et in mensa illius quotidie comedens, nihil de causa pro qua missus fuerat agere volebat.”

[1617] Ib. “Patrem patriæ, primatem totius Britanniæ, Willielmus ille, quasi fugitivum vel alicujus immanis sceleris reum, in littore detinuit.”

[1618] Ib. “Ingenti plebis multitudine circumstante ac nefarium opus, pro sui novitate, admirando spectante et spectando exsecrante.”

[1619] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 41. “Irrita fieri omnia quæ per ipsum mutata vel statuta fuisse probari poterant, ex quo primo venerat in archiepiscopatum.”

[1620] See N. C. vol. v. p. 772.

[1621] Hist. Nov. 41. “Ut tribulationes quæ factæ sunt in illo post mortem venerandæ memoriæ Lanfranci ante introitum patris Anselmi parvipensæ sunt comparatione tribulationum quæ factæ sunt his diebus.”

[1622] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 359.

[1623] Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 35) describes the new building as “novum opus quod a majori turre in orientem tenditur, quodque ipse pater Anselmus inchoasse dinoscitur.” Its minute history must be studied in Gervase and Willis.

[1624] This was the time when Henry the First broke out into the fit of devout swearing of which I spoke in N. C. vol. v. p. 844; Ann. Osney, 1130; “Rex Henricus ecclesiam Christi Cantuariensis nobiliter dedicari fecit, adeo ut, coruscante luminaribus ecclesia, et singulis altaribus singulis episcopis deputatis, cum simul omnes inciperent canticum ‘Terribilis est locus iste,’ et classicum mirabiliter intonaret, rex illustris, præ lætitia se non capiens, juramento per mortem Domini regio affirmaret vere terribilem esse.”

[1625] See above, p. 516.

[1626] “Salvo ordine meo.” See Herbert of Bosham, iii. 24, vol. iii. p. 273, Robertson.

[1627] The Archbishop enters the hall (“aula”), while the King is in “cœnaculo seorsum” (Herbert, iii. 37, vol. iii. p. 305). From pp. 307, 309 it appears that this cœnaculum was simply a solar or upper chamber; “Universis quotquot erant de cœnaculo ad domum inferiorem in qua nos eramus, descendentibus.” William Fitz-Stephen (vol. iii. p. 57) seems to speak of the hall as “camera;” cf. p. 50.

[1628] See above, p. 94.

[1629] Will. Fitz-Steph. 58, vol. iii. p. 67. “A comitibus et baronibus suum exigit rex de archiepiscopo judicium. Evocantur quidam vicecomites et secundæ dignitatis barones, antiqui dierum, ut addantur eis et assint judicio.”

[1630] See above, p. 508.

[1631] The distinction between the Court of our Lord the King in Parliament and the Court of the Lord High Steward is most clearly brought out in Jardine’s Criminal Trials, i. 229. Lord Macaulay (iv. 153) is less accurate. He speaks of the Court of our Lord the King in Parliament as one form of the Court of the Lord High Steward. But in truth, the Court of our Lord the King in Parliament is simply the Witan sitting for a judicial purpose. The Lords alone sit, because the Commons have never attained to a share in the judicial functions of the Witan. The right to be tried before the Witan thus sitting judicially is naturally confined to those classes of persons who have kept or acquired the right to the personal summons, that is, to the peers.

If it should be objected that this privilege does not now extend to the spiritual peers, the reason is most likely to be found in the fact that for some ages a bishop would not be tried before any temporal court at all. When such trials began again in the sixteenth century, the later notion of peerage had grown up, and those peers whose holding was still strictly official was looked on as in some measure less fully peers than those whose peerage was “hereditary” in the modern sense.

[1632] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 423, 878.

[1633] See above, p. 115.

[1634] See N. C. vol. v. p. 145.

[1635] See the decree of the Council, Hist. Nov. 53.

[1636] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 42. We are told that the Duke, “succensus amore pecuniæ quam copiosam illum ferre rumor disperserat, proponit animo eam ipsi auferre.” But there is really nothing in what Odo is said to have done which implies any such bad purpose. Perhaps Eadmer judged him uncharitably.

[1637] See Historical Essays, Third Series, p. 20. On my last visit to Rome (1881) I found the apse of Saint John Lateran destroyed, not by Huns or Turks, but by its own chapter, with the approval, it is said, of its present and late bishops. I believe there is some pretence of enlarging the church, and of replacing the mosaics in a new apse.

[1638] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. ii. 5. 48. “Angli illis temporibus Romam venientes, pedes ejus ad instar pedum Romani pontificis sua oblatione honorare desiderabant. Quibus ille nequaquam acquiescens, in secretiorem domus partem fugiebat, et eos pro tali re nullo patiebatur ad se pacto accedere.”

[1639] Hist. Nov. 49. “Hinc etiam erat quod non facile a quoquam Romæ simpliciter homo vel archiepiscopus, sed quasi proprio nomine sanctus homo vocabatur.”

[1640] Eadmer brings this out with all vividness, Hist. Nov. 49; “Sedebat enim idem pater in ordine cæterorum inter primos concilii patres, et ego ad pedes ejus.” Then the Pope calls him, “Pater et magister Anselme, Anglorum archiepiscope, ubi es?”

[1641] The whole story is charmingly told by Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 50. His picture of himself and his curiosity in the new world which is opened to him is delightful. So is his joy when he sees the cope of which he has so often heard and shows it to Anselm; “Cum, ut dixi, concilio præsens antistitem Beneventanum, cappa reliquis præstante ornatum, viderem, et eam ex his quæ olim audieram optime nossem, non modice lætatus et cappam et verba mihi puero ex inde dicta patri Anselmo ostendi.”

[1642] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 51. Some one, seemingly the Lady herself, requires that he shall swear “super corpus Dominicum et super sanctorum reliquias quas ei proponam jurejurando reliquias de quibus agitur veraciter esse de corpore beati apostoli Bartholomæi, et id remota omni æquivocatione atque sophismate.” The Archbishop was quite ready to swear.

[1643] Ib. “Inter alia mutuæ dilectionis colloquia cœpi de eadem cappa loqui, et unde illam haberet quasi nescius interrogavi.”

[1644] The story is told in the Annales Capituli Cracoviensis (Pertz, xix. 588), 1079, and more briefly in other annals in the same volume.

[1645] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 43.

[1646] Ib. “Ipse rex faciebat quædam quæ facienda non videbantur de ecclesiis, quas post obitum prælatorum aliter quam oporteret tractabat.”

[1647] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 43. “Legem Dei et canonicas et apostolicas auctoritates voluntariis consuetudinibus obrui videbam. De his omnibus cum loquebar, nihil efficiebam, et non tam simplex rectitudo quam voluntariæ consuetudines obtendebantur.”

[1648] He gives among his reasons, “Nec de his placitare poteram; nullus enim aut consilium aut auxilium mihi ad hæc audebat dare.”

[1649] Ib. 45. “Scribit literas Willielmo regi Angliæ, in quibus ut res Anselmi liberas in regno suo faceret, et de suis omnibus illum revestiret, movet, hortatur, imperat.”

[1650] Ib. 51. “Susceptis quidem quoquo modo literis papæ, literas Anselmi nullo voluisse pacto suscipere, imo, cognito illum [nuntium] esse hominem ejus, jurasse per vultum Dei quia, si festine terram suam non exiret, sine retractatione oculos ei erui faceret.”

[1651] See above, p. 526.

[1652] Chron. Petrib. 1097. We shall come to his crossing and returning in another chapter.

[1653] Ib. 1099.

[1654] See above, p. 162.

[1655] See above, p. 155.

[1656] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 45. “Ducit eum [abbas] in villam suam Sclaviam nomine, quæ in montis altitudine sita, sano jugiter aere conversantibus illic habilis exstat.”

[1657] See Historical Essays, Second Series, p. 357, ed. 2; Arnold, Hist. Rome, ii. 365.

[1658] Vita Anselmi, ii. 4. 43.

[1659] We shall come to this in another chapter.

[1660] The reception of Anselm by Duke Roger is described by Eadmer in both his works (Hist. Nov. 46, and in the Life, ii. 5. 45). The plots of William Rufus come from William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 98); “Adeo ut Rogerus dux Apuliæ, apud quem rex Angliæ illum litteris insimulandum curaverat, spretis neniis, longe aliter sententiam suam in viri honorem transferret.”

[1661] There is something rather singular in the picture of the Pope and Anselm dwelling in the camp of the besiegers (Hist. Nov. 46); “Plures exhinc dies in obsidione fecimus, remoti in tentoriis a frequentia et tumultu perstrepentis exercitus…. Sicque donec civitas in deditionem transiit, obsidio illius dominum papam et Anselmum vicinos habuit, ita ut familia illorum magis videretur una quam duæ.” This is one of several passages in which Anselm and others seem to take a state of war for granted. There is no protest, no pleading of any kind, on behalf of the besieged city. There are some remarks of M. de Rémusat (Saint Anselme, p. 362) on this subject, with regard to the correspondence between Henry and Anselm after the battle of Tinchebrai. But in this last case the victory of Henry was surely a gain to humanity. In the Life Eadmer gives some curious details of their life in the camp, and of a remarkable escape of Anselm.

[1662] Eadmer seems to take a certain pleasure in little hits against Urban, which his conduct presently made not wholly undeserved. Thus, in Hist. Nov. 46, he points out how the Pope came to the camp “ingenti sæcularis gloriæ pompa.” So now in the Life (ii. 5. 46) he contrasts the demeanour of Urban with that of Anselm at some length, and ends, “Multi ergo, quos timor prohibebat ad papam accedere, festinabant ad Anselmum venire, amore ducti qui nescit timere. Majestas etenim papæ solos admittebat divites, humanitas Anselmi sine personarum acceptione suscipiebat omnes.”

[1663] Vita, ii. 5. 46. “Et quos omnes? Paganos etiam, ut de Christianis taceam.” Eadmer then goes on to speak at some length of the Saracens brought over by Count Roger, whom he pointedly speaks of as the man of his nephew; “Homo ducis Rogerus, comes de Sicilia.” We read how Anselm received and entertained many of the Mussulmans, and how, when he passed through their camp, “ingens multitudo eorum elevatis ad cælum manibus ei prospera imprecarentur, et osculatis pro ritu suo manibus propriis necne coram eo genibus flexis, pro sua eum benigna largitate grates agendo venerarentur.”

[1664] Vita, ii. 5. 46. “Quorum etiam plurimi, velut comperimus, se libenter ejus doctrinæ instruendos submisissent, ac Christianæ fidei jugo sua per eum colla injecissent, si credulitatem [crudelitatem?] comitis sui per hoc in se sævituram non formidassent. Nam revera nullum eorum pati volebat Christianum impune fieri.” He adds the comment; “Quod qua industria, ut ita dicam, faciebat nihil mea interest; viderit Deus et ipse.”

[1665] Anselm’s motives are set forth at length in Hist. Nov. 46. One reason is that his teaching was so much more listened to on the continent than it was in England. The stories of William’s evil doings are brought in at this point.

[1666] A debate on this head, in rather long speeches between Urban and Anselm, is given in Hist. Nov. 48. The main doctrine stands thus; “Si propter tyrannidem principis, qui nunc ibi dominatur, in terram illam redire non permitteris, jure tamen Christianitatis semper illius archiepiscopus esto, potestatem ligandi atque solvendi super eam dum vixeris obtinens.”

[1667] Ib. “Et insignibus pontificalibus more summi pontificis utens ubicunque fueris.”

[1668] He again describes his whole struggle between the two duties, how he believed that he could reconcile both, how others told him that he could not, and he asks, “Et ego, pater, inter tales quid facerem?”

[1669] Ib. 49. “De ipso rege Anglico suisque et sui similibus qui contra libertatem ecclesiæ Dei se erexerunt.”

[1670] See above, p. 608.

[1671] Hist. Nov. 51. “Si causam quæris, hæc est. Quando de terra sua discedere voluit, aperte minatus est se illo discedente totum archiepiscopatum in dominium suum accepturum. Quoniam igitur, nec his minis constrictus, quin exiret omittere noluit, juste se putat fecisse quod fecit et injuria reprehendi.”

[1672] Ib. 52. “Quis unquam audivit talia? pro hoc solo primatem regni suis omnibus spoliavit, quia ne sanctam matrem ecclesiam omnium Romanam visitaret omittere noluit?… Et pro tali responso mirabilis homo huc te fatigasti?”

[1673] Ib. “Certissime noverit se in eodem concilio damnationis sententia puniri quam promeruit.”

[1674] Chron. Petrib. 1123.

[1675] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 52. “Priusquam abeam, tecum secretius agam.”

[1676] Ib. “Prudenter operam dando hos et illos suæ causæ fautores efficere, ac, ut domini sui voluntati satisfaceret, munera quibus ea cordi esse animadvertebat dispertiendo et pollicendo parvi habere. Deductus ergo a sententia Romanus pontifex est.” William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 101) is still more distinct on this head; “Arte qua peritus erat negotium conficiens, singulos ambiendo, muneribus et pollicitationibus, regi terminum ad festum sancti Michahelis obtinuit. Cunctatus est multum ad id concedendum Urbanus, quod luctarentur in ejus animo Anselmi religio et munerum oblatio; sed prævaluit tandem pecunia. Itaque omnia superat, omnia deprimit nummus. Indignum factum ut pectori tanti viri, Urbani dico, vilesceret famæ cura, Dei respectus cederet, et pecunia justitiam præverteret.”

[1677] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 52. “Quod videntes vane nos ibi consilium, nihil auxilium operiri intelleximus.”

[1678] Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 102. “Visum est ergo Anselmo circa tam venalem hominem expectationem non perdere, sed Lugdunum remeare. Sed enim licentiam impetrare non potuit, retinente papa, ut invidiam facti aliquo levaret solatio.”

[1679] Hist. Nov. 53. “His dictis, virgam pastoralem quam manu tenebat tertio pavimento illisit, indignationem spiritus sui, compressis exploso murmure labiis et dentibus, palam cunctis ostendens.”

[1680] Ib. “Oppido miratus est, sciens se nec homini de re locutum fuisse, nec a se vel ullo suorum, ut talia diceret, processisse.” A little characteristic touch follows; “Sedebat ergo uti solebat, silenter auscultans.”

[1681] See above, p. 606.

[1682] Hist. Nov. 53. “Nil judicii vel subventionis, præterquam quod diximus, per Romanum præsulem nacti.”

[1683] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 54. “Dei odium habeat qui inde curat.”

[1684] Ib. “Ego interim libertate potitus agam quod libet.”

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

INDEX

A.

Aaron, the Jew, i. 160 (note).

Abbeys,

- sale of, by William Rufus, i. 134, 135, 347, 349;

- vacancies of, prolonged by him, i. 134, 135, 347, 350, ii. 564;

- Englishmen appointed to by him, i. 352;

- in what sense the king’s, i. 455.

Aberafan,

- held by the descendants of Jestin, ii. 87;

- foundation of the borough, ii. 88.

Aberllech, English defeat at, ii. 107.

Aberlleiniog Castle, ii. 97;

- destroyed by the Welsh, ii. 101;
- rebuilt, ii. 129;
- modern traces of, ii. 130;
- fleet of Magnus off, ii. 143.

Aberllwehr Castle, ii. 103.

Abingdon Abbey, dealings of Hugh of Dun and Hugh of Buckland with, ii. 665.

Adela, daughter of William the Conqueror, her correspondence with Anselm, i. 374, ii. 571.

Adelaide,

- wife of Walter Tirel, ii. 322, 673;

- her tenure of lands in Essex, ii. 674.

Adeliza, Queen, wife of Henry I., ii. 389 (note).

Adeliza (Atheliz), abbess of Wilton, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 578.

Adeliza, wife of Roger of Montgomery, legend of her vow, ii. 154.

Adeliza, wife of William Fitz-Osbern, i. 266.

Advocatio, advowson, right and duty of, i. 420.

Ælfgifu-Emma. See Emma.

Ælfheah, Archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm asserts his right to the title of martyr, i. 377.

Ælfhere, Prior of Saint Eadmund’s, ii. 579.

Ælfred, King, Henry I. descended from, ii. 383.

Ælfred of Lincoln, ii. 485.

Ælfsige, Abbot of Bath, his death, i. 136.

Ælwine Retheresgut, ii. 359 (note).

Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, fortifies Bridgenorth, ii. 152, 153 (note).

Æthelflæd, Abbess of Romsey, her alleged outwitting of William Rufus, ii. 32, 600.

Æthelnoth the Good, Archbishop of Canterbury, his gift of a cope to the Archbishop of Beneventum, i. 610.

Æthelred II., compared with William Rufus, ii. 307.

Æthelward, son of Dolfin, ii. 551.

Agnes of Ponthieu,

- wife of Robert of Bellême, i. 180;
- his treatment of her, i. 183;
- escapes from him, i. 183 (note).

Agnes, wife of Helias of Maine, ii. 373.

Agnes, widow of Walter Giffard, said to have poisoned Sibyl of Conversana, ii. 312 (note).

Aiulf, Sheriff of Dorset, ii. 485.

Alan the Black, lord of Richmond,

- part of Bishop William’s lands granted to, i. 90;

- his agreement with the Bishop, i. 93;

- intervenes on his behalf, i. 109, 117, 120;

- Rufus bids him give the Bishop ships, i. 114;

- seeks Eadgyth-Matilda in marriage, ii. 602;

- his death, ib.

Albanians, followers of Magnus so called, ii. 623.

Alberic, Earl of Northumberland, confirms the grant of Tynemouth to Jarrow, ii. 18, 605.

Alberic of Grantmesnil,

- goes on the first crusade, i. 552;

- called the “rope-dancer,” i. 565 (note).

Aldric, Saint, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 240, 633.

Alençon, garrison of,

- driven out by Robert of Bellême, i. 193;

- surrenders to Duke Robert, i. 218;

- the army of William Rufus meets at, ii. 228.

Alexander the Great, William Rufus compared to, i. 287.

Alexander II., Pope, his excommunication of Harold, i. 612.

Alexander, King of Scotland,

- son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;
- driven out of Scotland, ii. 30;
- his accession, ii. 124;
- marries a daughter of Henry I., ib.;
- Anselm’s letter to, ii. 581.

Alexios Komnênos, Eastern Emperor,

- appeals for help to the Council of Piacenza, i. 545;

- Duke Robert does homage to, i. 564.

Allières, castle of, ii. 216, 217.

Almaric the Young, ii. 251.

Alnwick,

- history of the castle and lords of, ii. 15, 596;

- death of Malcolm III. at, ii. 16, 592.

Alton, meeting of Henry I. and Robert near, ii. 408.

Alvestone, sickness of William Rufus at, i. 390.

Amalchis, brings news to William Rufus of the victories of Helias, ii. 283, 645–652, 785.

Amalfi, siege of, i. 562.

Amalric of Montfort, gets possession of the county of Evreux, i. 268 (note).

Amercements, provision for, in Henry’s charters, ii. 354.

Amfrida, her correspondence with Anselm, ii. 571.

Anglesey,

- advance of Hugh of Chester in, ii. 97;
- deliverance of, ii. 101;
- war of 1098 in, ii. 127 et seq.;
- fleet of Magnus off, ii. 143;
- his designs thereon, ii. 145;
- subdued by Hugh of Chester, ii. 146;
- recovered by the Welsh, ii. 301;
- second visit of Magnus to, ii. 442.

Annales Cambriæ, ii. 3 (note).

Anselm,
his biographers, i. 325 (note), 369;
his birthplace and parentage, i. 366;
compared with Lanfranc, i. 368, 456;
his friendship with William the Conqueror, i. 368, 380;
not preferred in England by him, i. 368;
his character, i. 369;
his childhood and youth, i. 370, 371;
leaves Aosta, sojourns at Avranches, and becomes a monk at Bec, i. 371;
elected prior and abbot, i. 372;
his wide-spread fame, i. 373;
his correspondence, i. 374, ii. 570 et seq.;
his desire to do justice, i. 377;
his first visit to England, ib.;
asserts Ælfheah’s right to the title of martyr, ib.;
his friendship with the monks of Christ Church, i. 378;
with Eadmer, i. 369, 378, 460;
his popularity in England, i. 378;
his preaching and alleged miracles, i. 379;
his friendship for Earl Hugh, i. 380;
entertained by Walter Tirel, i. 380 (note);
regarded as the future Archbishop, i. 381;
refuses Earl Hugh’s invitation to Chester, i. 383;
yields at last, at the bidding of his monks, i. 384;
hailed at Canterbury as the future Archbishop, i. 385;
his first interview with William Rufus, ib.;
rebukes him, i. 386;
goes to Chester, i. 387;
the King refuses him leave to go back, i. 388;
his form of prayer for the appointment of an archbishop, i. 390;
the King’s mocking speech about, ib.;
sent for by him, i. 393;
named by him to the archbishopric, i. 396, ii. 584;
his unwillingness, i. 396;
Rufus pleads with him, i. 398;
invested by force, i. 399;
his first installation, i. 400;
his prophecy and parable, i. 401;
has no scruple about the royal right of investiture, i. 403;
later change in his views, i. 404;
stays with Gundulf, i. 406;
his interview with William at Rochester, i. 412;
conditions of his acceptance, i. 413–416;
refuses to confirm William’s grants during the vacancy, i. 418–421;
states the case in a letter to Hugh of Lyons, i. 419, ii. 571, 576;
receives the archbishopric and does homage, i. 422;
his friendship with Abbot Paul of Saint Alban’s, i. 423;
the papal question left unsettled, i. 424, 432;
his enthronement, i. 427;
Flambard’s suit against him, i. 428;
his consecration, i. 429–432;
professes obedience to the Church of Rome, i. 432;
attends the Gemót at Gloucester, i. 434;
his unwilling contribution for the war against Robert, i. 437, 438;
his gift refused by the King, i. 439;
his dispute with the Bishop of London, i. 440;
at the consecration of Battle Abbey, i. 444;
insists on the profession of Robert Bloet, i. 446;
rebukes the courtiers, i. 449;
appeals to Rufus for reforms, i. 451;
asks leave to hold a synod, ib.;
protests against fashionable vices, i. 452;
prays the King to fill vacant abbeys, i. 453;
his claim to the regency, i. 457;
attempts to regain the King’s favour, ib.;
refuses to give him money, i. 458–460;
leaves Hastings, i. 460;
his interview with the King at Gillingham, i. 481;
asks leave to go to Urban for the pallium, i. 481–484;
argues in favour of Urban, i. 484;
asks for an assembly to discuss the question, i. 485;
insists on the acknowledgement of Urban, i. 486;
states his case at the assembly at Rockingham, i. 492;
how regarded by the King’s party, i. 493;
advice of the bishops to, i. 494;
sets forth his twofold duties, i. 495, 496;
compared with William of Saint-Calais, i. 497;
not the first to appeal to Rome, ib.;
his speech to Rufus, i. 498;
sleeps during the debate, ib.;
the King’s message and advice of the bishops, ib.;
schemes of William of Saint-Calais against, i. 500;
speech of Bishop William to him, i. 502;
Anselm’s challenge, i. 505;
popular feeling with him, i. 507;
speech of the knight to, i. 508;
renounced by the King and the bishops, i. 512;
supported by the lay lords, i. 514;
proposes to leave England, i. 516;
agrees to an adjournment, i. 518;
his friends oppressed by the King, i. 520;
summoned to Hayes, i. 530;
refuses to pay for the pallium, i. 531;
reconciled to Rufus, ib.;
refuses to take the pallium from him, i. 532;
absolves Bishops Robert and Osmund, i. 533;
restores Wilfrith of Saint David’s, i. 534;
receives the pallium at Canterbury, ib.;
his alleged oath to the Pope, i. 535, ii. 588;
his letters to Cardinal Walter, i. 536, 538, ii. 41, 571;
entrusted with the defence of Canterbury, i. 537, ii. 44;
his canonical position objected to by the bishops, i. 539;
his dealings with his monks and tenants, i. 541;
attends Bishop William on his deathbed, i. 542, ii. 61;
consecrates English and Irish bishops, i. 544;
his letters to King Murtagh, i. 545 (note), ii. 581;
his contribution to the pledge-money, i. 558;
complaints made of his contingent to the Welsh war, i. 572;
position of his knights, i. 573;
summoned to the King’s court, i. 574;
change in his feelings, i. 575;
his yearnings towards Rome, i. 575–577;
new position taken by, i. 577;
determines to demand reform, i. 579,

- and not to answer the new summons, ib.;

favourably received, i. 581;
asks leave to go to Rome, i. 582, 583,

- and is refused, ib.;

renews his request, i. 584;
again impleaded, ib.;
alternative given to by William, ib.;
his answer to the bishops and lords, i. 585;
to Walkelin, i. 587;
charged with breach of promise, i. 589;
alternative given to him, ib.;
his discourse to the King, i. 589–591;
the barons take part against him, i. 591;
his answer to Robert of Meulan, i. 592;
terms on which he is allowed to go, i. 592, 593;
his last interview with Rufus, i. 593;
blesses him, i. 594;
his departure from Canterbury, ib.;
his departure foretold by the comet, ii. 118;

William of Warelwast searches his luggage, i. 595;
crosses to Whitsand, ib.;
his estates seized by the King, ib.;
his acts declared null, i. 596;
compared with Thomas of London and William of Saint-Calais, i. 598 et seq.;
does not strictly appeal to the Pope, i. 598;
does not assert clerical privileges, i. 599;
effects of his foreign sojourn on, i. 606;
writes to Urban from Lyons, i. 612;
alleged scheme of Odo Duke of Burgundy against, i. 606,

- and of Pope Clement, i. 607;

his reception by Urban, ib.;
known as “the holy man,” i. 608;
writes to Rufus, i. 613;
his sojourn at Schiavia, i. 615;
writes his “Cur Deus Homo,” ib.;
plots of William Rufus against, ib.;
his reception by Duke Roger, ib.;
his kindness to the Saracens, i. 616;
forbidden to convert them, i. 617;
Urban forbids him to resign his see, ib.;
defends the Filioque at Bari, i. 609, 618;
pleads for William Rufus, ib.;
Urban’s dealings with him, i. 621;
made to stay for the Lateran Council, i. 621;
special honours paid to, i. 607, 622;
goes to Lyons, i. 622;
hears of the death of Rufus, ii. 34, 363;
the monks of Canterbury beg him to return, ii. 363;

Henry’s letter to, ii. 364–366;
returns to England, ii. 369;
his connexion with Norman history, ib.;
his meeting with Henry, ii. 374;
his dispute with Henry compared with that with Rufus, ii. 375;
his refusal to do homage and receive investiture, ii. 375, 376;
the question is adjourned, ii. 377, 378, 399;
no personal scruple on his part, ii. 377;
provisional restoration of his temporalities, ii. 378;
refuses his consent to the appointment of Eadwulf as abbot of Malmesbury, ii. 383 (note);

Eadgyth appeals to, concerning her marriage with Henry, ii. 384;
holds an assembly on the matter, and pronounces in her favour, ii. 384, 385, 683;
other versions of the story, ii. 385, 387;
celebrates the marriage, ii. 387;
his speech thereat, ii. 388;
mediates between Henry and his nobles, ii. 400;
his contingent against Robert, ii. 403;
his energy on behalf of Henry, ii. 410;
threatens Robert with excommunication, ib.;
Henry’s compromise with, ii. 455;
called Saint before his canonization, ii. 661.

Ansfrida, mistress of Henry I.,

- story of, ii. 380;

- buried at Abingdon, ii. 382.

Anskill of Berkshire,

- story of, ii. 380;

- notice of in Domesday, ii. 381 (note).

Anthony, Sub-Prior of Christ Church, appointed Prior of Saint Augustine’s, i. 140.

Antioch,

- “rope-dancers” at, i. 565;

- death of Arnulf of Hesdin at, ii. 66.

Aosta, birthplace of Anselm, i. 366.

Aquitaine, Duke William proposes to pledge it to William Rufus, ii. 313.

Archard. See Harecher.

Archbishop of Canterbury,

- special position of, i. 358;

- the parish priest of the Crown, i. 414 (note).

Archbishopric, meaning of the phrase “receiving” it, ii. 375.

Argentan Castle,

- held by William Rufus, i. 462;
- siege of, i. 463;
- surrenders to Duke Robert, i. 464;
- granted to Robert of Bellême, ii. 396;
- held by him against Henry I., ii. 428.

Armethwaite Nunnery, alleged foundation of, by William Rufus, ii. 506.

Arnold, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 240, 634.

Arnold of Saint Evroul, translates Robert of Rhuddlan’s body to Saint Evroul, i. 128.

Arnold of Escalfoy, poisoned by Mabel Talvas, i. 215.

Arnold of Percy, signs the Durham charter, ii. 530.

Arnold, Dr., on chivalry, ii. 508.

Arnulf of Hesdin,

- his alleged foundation at Ruislip, i. 376 (note);

- his gifts to Gloucester Abbey, ii. 65;
- his innocence proved by battle, ib.;
- goes to the crusade and dies, ii. 66.

Arnulf of Montgomery,

- son of Earl Roger of Shrewsbury, i. 57 (note);

- begins Pembroke Castle, ii. 96;

- plots against Henry, ii. 395;

- his share in Robert of Bellême’s rebellion, ii. 423;

- his dealings with King Murtagh, ii. 425, 622, 624;

- and with King Magnus, ii. 426;
- harries Staffordshire, ii. 429;
- goes to Ireland, ii. 442;
- his banishment, ii. 450.

Arques Castle, held by Helias of Saint-Saens, i. 236.

Arundel,

- held by Earl Roger, i. 58;
- position of, ib.;
- castle of, built T. R. E., ib.;

- priory founded at, by Earl Roger, i. 59 (note);

- besieged by Henry I., ii. 428;
- terms of its surrender, ii. 430;
- its later fortunes, ib.

Arundel, Earl of, origin of the title, i. 60 (note).

Ascalon, battle of, i. 623.

Ascelin Goel, his war with William of Breteuil, i. 243 (note).

Assemblies, frequency of, under William Rufus, i. 487.

Aumale Castle,

- surrendered to William Rufus, i. 228;

- strengthened by him, i. 229.

Auvergne, mention of in the Chronicle, i. 547 (note).

Avesgaud, Bishop of Le Mans, signs the foundation charter of Lonlay Abbey, 539.

Avon, at Bristol, i. 37.

Avranchin, bought by Henry of Robert, i. 196, ii. 510–516.

B.

Baldwin of Boulogne, King of Jerusalem,

- his dream, i. 269, ii. 122;
- its fulfilment, i. 270;
- marries Godehild of Toesny, i. 270 (note);
- goes on the first crusade, i. 551;
- besieged in Rama, ii. 122;
- Anselm’s letters to, ii. 581.

Baldwin, Abbot of Saint Eadmund’s,

- rebuilds his church, ii. 268;
- translates Saint Eadmund’s body, ii. 270;
- his journey to Rome, ib.;
- his death, ii. 267, 270;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Baldwin of Tournay, monk of Bec,

- his advice to Anselm, i. 399;

- driven out of England by William Rufus, i. 520;

- recalled, i. 542;

- leaves England with Anselm, i. 595.

Ballon,

- castle of, i. 209;

- siege and surrender of, i. 209–211;

- betrayed to William Rufus and occupied by Robert of Bellême, ii. 235;

- Fulk’s unsuccessful attempt on, ii. 236;

- William’s treatment of the captive knights, ii. 237, i. 171;

- strengthened by Robert of Bellême, ii. 282.

Bamburgh Castle, ii. 47, 607;

- relic of Saint Oswald at, ii. 49;

- question as to the date of the keep, ib.;

- held by Robert of Mowbray against William Rufus, ii. 50, 607;

- effect of the making of the Malvoisin tower, ii. 51, 608;

- siege abandoned by Rufus, ii. 52, 609;
- Robert’s escape from, ii. 53, 609;
- defended by Matilda of Laigle, ii. 54, 610;
- surrender of, ii. 54.

Bari, Archbishop of,

- Wulfstan’s correspondence with, i. 479;

- Council of (1098), i. 608, 618.

Barnacles not to be eaten on fast-days, ii. 93 (note).

Basilia, wife of Hugh of Gournay, her correspondence with Anselm, ii. 571.

Bath,

- burned by Robert of Mowbray, i. 41;

- see of Wells moved to, i. 136, ii. 483;

- temporal lordship of, granted to John of Tours, i. 137, ii. 487;

- dislike of the monks to Bishop John’s changes, i. 138;

- buildings of John of Tours at, i. 138, ii. 486;

- church of, called abbey, i. 139;
- later charters concerning, ii. 487;
- sales and manumissions done at, ii. 489.

Battle Abbey,

- gifts of William Rufus to, i. 18, 168, ii. 504;

- consecration of the church, i. 443;

- gifts of Bernard of Newmarch to, ii. 90.

Bayard, Chevalier, at the siege of Padua, i. 173.

Beaumont-le-Roger, i. 185.

Beaumont-le-Vicomte, ii. 229.

Beavers, lawfulness of eating their tails on fast-days, ii. 93 (note).

Bec Abbey,

- fame of, under Anselm, i. 373;

- its intercourse and connexion with England, i. 374–376, ii. 572;

- Gundulf’s letter to the monks, i. 405;

- monks of, object to Anselm’s accepting the primacy, i. 406.

Belfry, origin of the name, ii. 520.

Bellême,

- surrenders to Duke Robert, i. 218;

- site of the old castle, i. 218 (note).

Benefices,

- vacant, policy of William Rufus with regard to, i. 134, 336, 337, 347, 348, ii. 564;

- sale of, under Rufus, i. 134, 347, 349;

- sale of, not systematic before Rufus, i. 348.

Beneventum, Archbishop of,

- sells the arm of Saint Bartholomew to the Lady Emma, i. 609;

- Æthelnoth’s gift of a cope to, i. 610.

Benjamin the monk, ii. 579.

Bequest, right of, confirmed by Henry I., i. 338, ii. 354.

Berkeley,

- harried by William of Eu, i. 44;

- its position and castle, i. 45.

Berkshire pool, portent of, ii. 258, 316.

Bermondsey Priory, its foundation, ii, 508.

Bernard of Newmarch,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;
- his conquest of Brecknock, ii. 89–91;
- his gifts to Battle Abbey, ii. 90;

- marries Nest, granddaughter of Gruffydd, ib.

Bertrada of Montfort,

- brought up by Countess Heloise, ii. 193;

- sought in marriage by Fulk of Anjou, ii. 192;

- marries him, ii. 194;

- her adulterous marriage with Philip of France, i. 548, ii. 171, 172;

- Bishop Ivo of Chartres protests against, i. 559 (note);

- denounced by Hugh of Lyons, ii. 173;
- excommunicated, i. 549, ii. 173;
- her sons, ii. 174;
- schemes against Lewis, ib.

Berwick, granted to and withdrawn from the see of Durham, ii. 121.

Bishops,

- their power in the eleventh century, i. 138;

- no reference to the Pope in their appointment, i. 425;

- order of their appointment then and now, i. 425–427;

- theories of the two systems, i. 426;

- why the peers’ right of trial does not extend to, i. 604 (note).

Bishoprics,

- sale of, under William Rufus, i. 134, 347, 349;

- vacant, his policy with regard to, i. 134, 336, 337, 347, 350, ii. 564.

Blasphemy, frequency of, i. 166.

Blèves, castle of, ii. 216, 217.

Blindness, armies smitten with, ii. 478, 480.

Blyth Priory,

- founded by Roger of Bully, ii. 161;

- granted to Saint Katharine’s at Rouen, ii. 162 (note).

Bofig, his lordship of Rockingham, i. 490.

Bohemond, Mark, brother of Roger of Apulia,

- besieges Amalfi, i. 561;
- goes on the crusade, i. 562;
- origin of his name, i. 562 (note).

Boleslaus King of Poland, i. 611.

Bonneville,

- castle of, ii. 285;

- early history and legends of, ii. 286.

Boso of Durham, his visions, ii. 59.

Botolph, Abbot of Saint Eadmund’s, ii. 268.

Bourg-le-roi, castle of, ii. 232.

Boury, castle of, ii. 189.

Brecknock,

- conquest of, ii. 89–91;
- castle of, ii. 90;
- revolt of, ii. 106.

Bribery under William Rufus, i. 153, 344.

Bridgenorth,

- fortified by Æthelflæd, ii. 152, 153 (note);

- fortress of Robert of Bellême at, ii. 155–158;

- churches and town of, ii. 157;
- defence of, against Henry I., ii. 428, 432;
- siege of, ii. 435 et seq.;

- dealings of the captains with Henry, ii. 440;

- divisions in, ii. 442;

- surrender of, ii. 444.

Brihtric, son of Ælfgar, lands of, held by Robert Fitz-hamon, ii. 83.

Brionne,

- said to be exchanged for Tunbridge, i. 68 (note);

- granted to Roger of Beaumont, i. 194;

- taken by Duke Robert, i. 244.

Bristol,

- its position in the eleventh century, i. 37;

- castle of that date, i. 37, 38;
- later growth of, i. 39;
- occupied by Bishop Geoffrey, i. 40.

Britain,

- effects of the reign of William Rufus on its union, ii. 6;

- causes of the union, ii. 7;

- English conquest of, compared with Rufus’s conquest of Wales, ii. 72;

- changes in, in the eleventh century, ii. 303 et seq.;

- fusion of elements in, ii. 304;

- ceases to be another world, ii. 305.

Brockenhurst, William Rufus at, ii. 321.

Bromham, grant of, to Battle Abbey, ii. 504.

Brunton, church of, granted to the monks of Durham, ii. 535.

Brut-y-Tywysogion, the two versions of, ii. 3, 4 (note).

Brychan, King, his daughters, ii. 90.

Buckler, Mr., on Ilchester, i. 43 (note).

Bulgaria, use of the name, i. 563.

Bures,

- castle of, i. 236;

- taking of, i. 463.

Burf Castle, ii. 158.

Burgundius, brother-in-law of Anselm, ii. 579.

C.

Cadulus, Anselm’s advice to, i. 372.

Cadwgan, son of Bleddyn,

- drives out Rhys ap Tewdwr, i. 12;
- harries Dyfed, ii. 92;
- his revolt, ii. 99;
- his action in Dyfed, ii. 101;
- mentioned in the Chronicle, ii. 111;
- schemes to save Anglesey, ii. 128;
- flees to Ireland, ii. 131;
- returns to Wales, ii. 301, 424;

- his settlement with Robert of Bellême, ii. 424;

- his action on his behalf, ii. 433, 442;

- Ceredigion ceded to, by Jorwerth, ii. 451.

Caen,

- treaty of, i. 275 et seq., ii. 522–528;

- its short duration, i. 283.

Caerau. See Carew.

Caermarthen, conquest of, ii. 102.

Caerphilly Castle, ii. 87.

Cæsar, C. Julius, his speech compared with that of William Rufus, ii. 497, 647, 652.

Candida Casa. See Whithern.

Canonization, popular, instances of, ii. 339.

Canterbury, citizens of,

- side with the monks of Saint Augustine’s against Guy, i. 139;

- monks from Christ Church sent to Saint Augustine’s, i. 140;

- vengeance of William Rufus on, i. 141;

- the city granted to the archbishopric, i. 423;

- Anselm’s enthronement and consecration at, i. 427, 429;

- his dealings with the monks, i. 540;

- their rights confirmed by William Rufus, i. 423;

- rebuilding of the choir, i. 597;

- its consecration under Henry I., ib.

Canterbury, Archbishopric of,

- policy of William Rufus in keeping the see vacant, i. 328, 360, ii. 565;

- Flambard’s action in the matter, i. 363 (note);

- effects of the vacancy, i. 357, 363–365;

- its special position as metropolitan, i. 357;

- no attempt at election, i. 362;

- feeling as to the vacancy, i. 381;

- prayers for the appointment of the Archbishop, i. 389;

- the Archbishop the parish priest of the Crown, i. 414 (note).

Cantire,

- Magnus at, ii. 141;
- part of Sigurd’s kingdom, ii. 146;
- its formal occupation by Magnus, ii. 147.

Capua, siege of, i. 614, ii. 403.

Caradoc, son of Gruffydd, ii. 81, 82.

Cardiff,

- castle of, ii. 77, 84, 86;

- Robert Fitz-hamon’s settlement at, ii. 81, 84;

- borough of, ii. 88.

Careghova Castle,

- built by Robert of Bellême, ii. 158;
- history of the site, ii. 159 (note);
- strengthened by Robert, ii. 428.

Carew Castle, ii. 95.

Carlisle,

- its cathedral church called abbey, i. 139 (note);

- history and character of, i. 314, 317;

- destroyed by Scandinavians, i. 315;

- conquered by William Rufus, i. 4, 313–315, 318;

- Saxon colony in, i. 316, ii. 550;

- earldom of, i. 317, ii. 545–551;

- its analogy with Edinburgh and Stirling, i. 317;

- wall and castle of, i. 318;

- see founded by Henry I., ib.;

- effects of its restoration on Scotland, ii. 8;

- not an English earldom under the Conqueror, ii. 546;

- shire of, ii. 549;
- its purely British name, ii. 550;
- entries of, in the Pipe Roll, ii. 551.

Castles,

- building of, in Normandy, i. 192;

- garrisoned by William the Conqueror, ib.;

- building of, in Wales, ii. 70, 76, 77, 93, 108, 112;

- rarity of, in England, as compared with Maine, ii. 220.

Caux, obtained as dowry by Helias of Saint-Saens, i. 235.

Cedivor, Prince of Dyfed, ii. 78.

Cenred the priest,

- his mutilation, ii. 132;

- restoration of his speech, ib.

Ceredigion,

- conquest of, ii. 92, 93;
- action of Cadwgan in, ii. 101;
- recovered by the Welsh, ii. 301;
- ceded to Cadwgan by Jorwerth, ii. 451.

Charma, M., his Life of Anselm, i. 325 (note).

Château du Loir, ii. 275, 276;

- Helias flees to, ii. 287.

Château-Gonthier, ii. 428.

Château-Thierry, monks of Saint Cenery flee to, i. 213.

Chaumont-en-Vexin,

- claimed by William Rufus, ii. 176;
- castle of, ii. 185;
- siege of, ii. 248.

Cherbourg, ceded to William Rufus, i. 276.

Chester,

- Robert of Rhuddlan buried at, i. 127;

- his gifts, i. 127 (note);

- Earl Hugh’s reforms at, i. 127 (note), 381, 382;

- Anselm at, i. 387.

Chivalry,

- growth of, under William Rufus, i. 169;
- its true character, ib.;
- Palgrave and Arnold on, i. 169, ii. 508;
- its one-sided nature, i. 172;
- practical working of, ib.;

- illustrations of, i. 173, 291, ii. 237, 406, 534;

- tenure in, systematized by Flambard, i. 335;

- personal character of, ii. 407.

Christina, Abbess of Romsey, her treatment of Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 31, 32, 599.

Chronicle, the, witness of, to Flambard’s system of feudalism, i. 335.

Church, R. W., his Life of Anselm, i. 326 (note), 370.

Church, Sir Richard, paralleled with Robert son of Godwine, ii. 123.

Church lands,

- revenues of, appropriated by William Rufus, i. 336, 337, 347, 349;

- feudalization of, i. 346;

- nature of Rufus’s grants of, i. 419.

Churches, plundered to raise the pledge-money for Normandy, i. 558.

Clare, Suffolk, priory of, a cell of Bec, i. 376.

Clarendon, news of the loss of Le Mans brought to Rufus at, ii. 283, 645.

Clark, G. T.,

- on Malling tower, i. 70 (note);

- on Rochester, i. 79 (note);

- on the site of Careghova Castle, ii. 159 (note);

- on “The Land of Morgan,” ii. 615.

Clemence, Countess of Boulogne, Anselm’s letters to, ii. 581.

Clement,

- Anti-Pope, i. 415;

- his position, i. 488;

- excommunicated at the Council of Clermont, i. 549;

- his alleged scheme against Anselm, i. 607.

Clergy,

- their exemption from temporal jurisdiction asserted by William of Saint-Calais, i. 97;

- not asserted by Anselm, i. 599;

- their corruption under William Rufus, i. 363.

Clerks,

- the king’s, preferments held by, i. 330;

- their position and power, i. 342, 343.

Clermont,

- Council of (1095), i. 545;
- decrees of, i. 548;
- crusade preached at, i. 549.

Coinage, false, issue of, punished by Henry I., ii. 353.

Coker (Somerset), grant of, to Saint Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 504.

Colchester, story of Eudo’s good rule at, ii. 464.

Coldingham, lands of, granted to Durham, ii. 121.

Comet, foretells the departure of Anselm, ii. 118.

Commons, House of, foreshadowed by the outer council of the Witan, i. 603.

Conan of Rouen,

- his wealth, i. 246;

- his treaty with William Rufus, i. 247, 248;

- exhorts the citizens against Gilbert of Laigle, i. 253;

- taken prisoner by Henry, i. 256;

- his death, i. 257–259, ii. 516–518.

Conches,

- besieged by William of Evreux, i. 261, 266, ii. 627;

- its position, i. 262, 264;

- abbey and castle of, i. 265.

Conrad,

- son of the Emperor Henry the Fourth, i. 522;

- receives Urban at Cremona, i. 525;

- his marriage, i. 526.

Constantius I., Emperor, his voyage to Britain, ii. 648.

Corbet, his lands in Shropshire, ii. 433 (note).

Cornelius the monk, i. 545 (note).

Corsham (Wilts), grant of, to Saint Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 504.

Cosan the Turk, joins the crusaders, i. 565.

Côtentin, bought by Henry of Robert, i. 196, ii. 510–516.

Coulaines,

- William Rufus encamps at, ii. 233;

- ravaged by him, ii. 234, 625, 627.

Courcy,

- siege of, i. 274, ii. 519–522;

- church of, ii. 522.

Cowbridge, ii. 88.

Coyty, held by Pagan of Turberville, ii. 87.

Cricklade, entry of, in Domesday, i. 480 (note).

Croc the huntsman, signs the foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral, i. 309 (note).

Croset-Mouchet, M.,

- his life of Anselm, i. 325 (note);

- on Anselm’s parentage, i. 366 (note).

Crusade, the first,

- its bearing on English history, i. 546;
- no kings take part in, ib.;
- a Latin movement, ib.;
- argument in favour of, ii. 207;
- success of, ii. 306.

Crusades, Palgrave’s condemnation of, ii. 509.

Cumberland,

- why not entered in Domesday, i. 313, ii. 547 et seq.;

- Scandinavians in, i. 315;
- earldom of, a misnomer, ii. 548;
- origin of the modern county, ii. 549.

Curia Regis, the, i. 102.

Cuthberht, Saint, appears to Eadgar of Scotland, ii. 119.

D.

Dadesley. See Tickhill.

Danesford, ii. 152, 155.

Dangeuil Castle,

- strengthened by Helias, ii. 213;
- site of, ii. 214;
- effects of his occupation, ib.;
- Helias taken prisoner near, ii. 223.

David, King of Scots,

- son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;

- driven out of Scotland, ii. 30;

- divides the kingdom with Alexander, ii. 124;

- marries Matilda, daughter of Waltheof, ii. 124;

- effects of his reign on Scottish history, ii. 125;

- his English position, ib.;

- invades England on behalf of the Empress Matilda, ib.;

- his mocking speech to Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 390;

- earldom of Carlisle granted to, ii. 549.

Deverel (Wilts), lordship of, held by Bec, i. 375.

Diacus, Bishop of Saint James of Compostella, his correspondence with Anselm, ii. 582.

Dimock, J. F., his defence of Robert Bloet, ii. 585.

Dolfin, son of Gospatric, lord of Carlisle, driven out by William Rufus, i. 315.

Domesday, alleged new version of, by Randolf Flambard, i. 332, ii. 562.

Domfront,

- enmity of Robert of Bellême to, i. 183, 319;

- men of, choose Henry to lord, i. 319, ii. 538;

- position of, i. 319;

- kept by Henry I., ii. 413, 691.

Donald Bane, King of Scots, i. 475;

- story of his attempting to disturb Margaret’s burial, ii. 28, 597;

- his election, ii. 29;
- drives out the English, ib.;
- driven out by Duncan, ii. 34;
- his restoration, ii. 36;

- dethroned and imprisoned by Eadgar, ii. 119.

Donald,

- sent by King Murtagh to the Sudereys, ii. 137;

- driven out, ii. 138.

Dress, new fashions in, i. 158, ii. 500–502.

Drogo of Moncey, marries Eadgyth, widow of Gerard of Gournay, i. 552.

Duncan, King of Scots, son of Malcolm,

- set free by Robert, i. 13;
- signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
- claims the Scottish crown, ii. 33;
- his Norman education, ii. 34;

- receives the crown from William Rufus, i. 475, ii. 5, 34;

- overthrows Donald, ib.;
- his death, ii. 36;
- his burial, ii. 36 (note).

Dunfermline,

- Malcolm translated to, ii. 18;

- Margaret’s burial at, ii. 28, 597.

Dunstable, Prior of,

- his alleged warning to William Rufus, ii. 334;

- minster of, founded by Henry I., ii. 663.

Dunster, church of, granted by William of Moion to the church of Bath, ii. 490.

Durham, cathedral church of,

- called abbey, i. 139 (note);
- evidence of, in charters, i. 305, ii. 535;
- rebuilding of the abbey, ii. 11;

- Malcolm takes part in laying the foundation, ii. 11, 12;

- works of Bishop William of Saint-Calais at, ii. 60;

- gifts of King Eadgar to, ii. 121;

- works of Randolf Flambard at, ii. 272;

- monks of, favourably treated by William Rufus, i. 298, ii. 508;

- building of the refectory, i. 299;

- Bishop William restored to, ib.

Durham castle, surrendered to William Rufus, i. 114.

Dwyganwy,

- peninsula and castle of, i. 123, 124;

- attack made by Gruffydd on, i. 24;

- meeting of Magnus and the two Earls Hugh at, ii. 143.

Dyfed,

- harried by Cadwgan, ii. 92;
- conquest of, ib.;
- action of Cadwgan in, ii. 101;
- grant of, by Henry I., ii. 451.

Dyrrhachion, Duke Robert crosses to, i. 563.

E.

Eadgar Ætheling,

- banished from Normandy, i. 281, ii. 527;
- policy of William Rufus towards, ib.;
- goes to Scotland, i. 282;

- mediates between Rufus and Malcolm, i. 301, ii. 541;

- reconciled to Rufus, i. 304;
- signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
- returns to Normandy with Robert, i. 307;
- his mission to Malcolm, ii. 9, 10, 590;
- protects Malcolm’s children, ii. 30, 31;

- his designs as to the Scottish crown, ii. 114;

- Ordgar’s charge against, ii. 115, 617;
- his acquittal by ordeal, ii. 117;
- estimate of the story, ii. 117, 615;
- marches to Scotland, ii. 118;

- and wins the crown for his nephew Eadgar, ii. 120;

- goes on the crusade, ii. 121;

- not thought of to succeed William Rufus, ii. 344;

- his character, ii. 393.

Eadgar, King of Scots,

- son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;

- brings the news of his father’s death, ii. 27;

- driven out of Scotland, ii. 30;
- his vision, ii. 119;
- dethrones and imprisons Donald, ib.;

- his gifts to Durham and to Robert son of Godwine, ii. 121;

- his action towards Robert Flambard, ib.;
- his peaceful reign, ii. 123;
- his death, ii. 124;

- bears the sword before William Rufus at his Whitsun feast, ii. 265;

- results of his succession, ii. 304.

Eadgyth, wife of Henry I. See Matilda.

Eadgyth, mistress of Henry I. and mother of Matilda Countess of Perche, ii. 379.

Eadgyth, mistress of Henry I. and wife of Robert of Ouilly, ii. 379.

Eadgyth,

- wife of Gerard of Gournay, i. 230;
- goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
- her second marriage, i. 552 (note).

Eadmer,

- his belief in the ordeal, i. 166 (note);

- his Life of Anselm, i. 325, 369;

- his friendship with Anselm, i. 369, 378, 460;

- references to in other writers, i. 370;
- on the Norman campaign of 1094, i. 474;
- leaves England with Anselm, i. 595;

- recognizes the cope of Beneventum at Bari, i. 609, 610;

- bishop-elect of Saint Andrews, ii. 124.

Eadmund, Saint, king of the East-Angles,

- his miracles, ii. 268;

- translation of his body, ii. 270.

Eadmund,

- son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;
- helps Donald against Duncan, ii. 36;
- becomes a monk at Montacute, ii. 120;
- his burial in chains, ib.

Eadmund the monk, his vision, ii. 604.

Eadric the Wild, marked as “Edric Salvage,” ii. 433 (note).

Eadric the Provost, ii. 270 (note).

Eadward the Confessor, his law restored by Henry I., ii. 357.

Eadward, son of Malcolm and Margaret, killed at Alnwick, ii. 16, 21, 594.

Eadwine, King of the Northumbrians, builds a church at Tynemouth, ii. 603.

Eadwulf, Abbot of Malmesbury, ii. 383 (note).

Eardington, lordship of, ii. 154.

Earle, John, on Bath, i. 42 (note).

Earthquake of 1089, i. 176.

Edinburgh, Margaret’s death at, ii. 28, 597.

Edward the Black Prince and the massacre of Limoges, i. 173;

- his twofold character, ib.

Eginulf of Laigle, i. 243 (note).

Eglaf of Bethlington, priest, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Einion,

- story of him and Jestin, ii. 80;

- estimate of the story, ii. 81, 614.

Eleanor of Aquitaine, her foundation at Tickhill, ii. 432.

Emma (Ælfgifu), the Lady,

- buys the arm of Saint Bartholomew of the Archbishop of Beneventum, i. 610;

- changes her name on her marriage, ii, 305.

Emma, daughter of Count Robert of Sicily, sought in marriage by Philip of France, ii. 171 (note).

Emma, wife of Ralph of Wader, goes on the first crusade, i. 552.

Emmeline, wife of Arnulf of Hesdin, her gifts to Gloucester Abbey, ii. 65.

Empire, Western,

- advance of, in the eleventh century, ii. 305, 306;

- alleged designs of William Rufus on, ii. 314.

Empire, Eastern, decline of, ii. 306.

England,

- extension of, under William Rufus, i. 4;

- beginning of her rivalry with France, i. 5, 228, 240;

- her wealth, ib.;
- her European position, ib.;
- unity of, i. 81;
- how indebted to foreigners, i. 365;
- in what sense feudal, i. 341;
- compared with Normandy, i. 468;
- wretchedness of, under Rufus, i. 474;
- position of, towards the Popes, i. 496;
- her relations with Sicily, i. 526;
- Welsh inroad into, ii. 100;

- rarity of castles in, as compared with Maine, ii. 220;

- oppression in, during William’s absence in Normandy, ii. 256;

- various grievances in, ii. 258;

- changes in, in the eleventh century, ii. 303 et seq.;

- becomes part of the Latin world, ii. 305;

- united under Henry I. against Norman invasion, ii. 401.

English,

- accept William Rufus as king, i. 7, 16, 20, 66, 131;

- their loyalty to him, 18, 64, 65, 130;
- their hatred of Odo, i. 67, 86;
- their position under Rufus, i. 133;

- native, not specially oppressed by him, i. 341;

- growth of their power and nationality under Rufus, ii. 4.

English and Normans, fusion of, i. 130, 134, ii. 401, 455.

English Conquest, compared with that of Wales, ii. 72.

Englishmen,

- the fifty charged with eating the king’s deer, i. 155, 614, ii. 494;

- acquitted by ordeal, i. 156.

Epernon, castle of, ii. 251.

Epitumium, Orderic’s use of the word, ii. 288 (note).

Erling, Earl of Orkney,

- taken prisoner by Magnus, ii. 140;

- his death in Norway, ib.

Ermenberga, daughter of Helias,

- betrothed to Geoffrey of Anjou, ii. 232;

- married to Fulk of Anjou, ii. 232 (note), 374.

Ermenberga, mother of Anselm, her pedigree, i. 366 (note).

Ermengarde of Bourbon, second wife of Fulk of Anjou, ii. 192.

Ernan, “Biscope sune,” ii. 605.

Erneis of Burun, his action in the case of Bishop William, i. 114.

Ernulf, Bishop of Rochester, his buildings at Christchurch, Canterbury, i. 597.

Ernulf of Hesdin. See Arnulf of Hesdin.

Etard, Abbot of Saint Peter on Dives, his appointment, i. 570.

Eu, castle of, Philip and Robert march against, i. 238.

Eudo of Rye,

- story of his share in the accession of William Rufus, ii. 463;

- how he became dapifer, ib.;

- his good deeds at Colchester, ii. 464, 465.

Eulalia, Abbess, Anselm’s letters to, ii. 578.

Eustace III. Count of Boulogne,

- sent over to England by Duke Robert, i. 56, ii. 465 et seq.;

- agrees to surrender Rochester, i. 80;
- pleading made for, i. 84;
- goes on the first crusade, i. 551.

Eustace, monk of Bec, i. 399.

Eustace, father of one Geoffrey, Anselm rebukes him for bigamy, ii. 579.

Eustace, son of William of Breteuil, i. 268 (note).

Eva, widow of William Crispin, her correspondence with Anselm, ii. 571.

Everard of Puiset, goes on the first crusade, i. 551.

Evreux Castle,

- garrisoned by William the Conqueror, i. 192;

- its position and history, i. 262–264.

Ewenny, priory of, ii. 86, 89.

Exmes, Robert of Bellême driven back from, i. 242.

Eynesham, monks of Stow moved to, ii. 585, 587.

Eystein, brother of Sigurd, does not go on the crusade, ii. 206.

F.

Faricius, Abbot of Abingdon,

- his appointment, ii. 360;

- why not appointed to the see of Canterbury, ib.;

- recovers the manor of Sparsholt, ii. 380 (note).

Farman the monk, ii. 579.

Farn Islands, ii. 50.

Fécamp, ceded to William Rufus, i. 276.

Feudalism, developement of,

- under Rufus, i. 4;

- systematized by Randolf Flambard, i. 324, 335 et seq., 341.

Feudal tenures,

- mainly the work of Flambard, i. 335, 336;

- abolished in 1660, ib.

Finchampstead, portent at, ii. 258, 316.

Flanders, her share in the first crusade, i. 547.

Flemings,

- their settlement in Pembrokeshire, ii. 70 (note), 74, 88, 615;

- whether also in Gower and Glamorgan, ii. 88, 103.

Florus, son of Philip and Bertrada, ii. 174.

Forest laws,

- become stricter under William Rufus, i. 155;

- enforced by Henry I., ii. 355.

Forfeiture, provision as to, in Henry’s charter, ii. 354.

Fourches, castle of, ii. 428.

France,

- beginning of her rivalry with England, i. 5;

- effects of the war with, i. 7;

- her rivalry with Normandy, i. 201;

- her first direct dealings with England, i. 240;

- her relations with England and Normandy, ib.;

- designs of William Rufus on, ii. 167;

- his war with, ii. 167, 171, 175 et seq.;

- its position compared with that of Maine, ii. 168–170.

Francis I. of France, compared with William Rufus, i. 173.

Frank-almoign, tenure of, i. 350.

Franks, Eastern name for Europeans, i. 546.

Fresnay-le-Vicomte, castle and church of, ii. 229.

Freystrop, ii. 95 (note).

Frome (river) at Bristol, i. 38.

Fulcher,

- brother of Randolf Flambard, ii. 552;

- receives the see of Lisieux, ii. 416.

Fulchered, Abbot of Shrewsbury, his sermon at Gloucester, ii. 318.

Fulcherius Quarel, i. 215 (note).

Fulk, Abbot of Saint Peter on Dives, his deposition and restoration, i. 570.

Fulk, Bishop of Beauvais, Anselm intercedes for, ii. 582.

Fulk, Rechin, Count of Anjou,

- Robert does homage to, for Maine, i. 204;
- patronizes pointed shoes, i. 159, ii. 502;
- his wives, ii. 172 (note), ii. 192;
- Robert seeks help from him, ib.;

- seeks Bertrada of Montfort in marriage, ib.;

- marries her, ii. 194;

- garrisons Le Mans, ii. 232, 628;

- his unsuccessful attempt on Ballon, ii. 236;

- returns to Le Mans, ii. 237, 628;

- his convention with William, ii. 238, 628–630;

- helps Helias to besiege the castle of Le Mans, ii. 370.

Fulk, Count of Anjou, King of Jerusalem, marries Ermenberga daughter of Helias, ii. 374.

Fulk, Dean of Evreux, father of Walter Tirel, ii. 322, 672.

G.

Gaillefontaine, castle of, surrendered to Rufus, i. 230.

Galen, story of, i. 151 (note).

Galloway, dealings of Magnus with, ii. 141.

Gausbert, Abbot of Battle, i. 443.

Gentry, growth of, under Henry I., ii. 356.

Geoffrey, Archbishop of Rouen,

- his appointment to the deanery of Le Mans, ii. 201;

- nominated bishop by Helias, ii. 210;
- set aside by the chapter, ib.;
- appointed to the see of Rouen, ib.

Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 27, 34, ii. 470;

- occupies Bristol, i. 40;
- notices of his estates, ib.;
- his relation to Bristol, ib.;

- his speech on behalf of William of Saint-Calais, i. 100;

- charges the Bishop’s men with robbing his cattle, i. 113;

- his death, i. 444.

Geoffrey, Bishop of Chichester, his death, i. 135.

Geoffrey, monk of Durham, charge brought against him, i. 116, ii. 60 (note).

Geoffrey of Baynard, his combat with William of Eu, ii. 63.

Geoffrey Martel,

- son of Fulk Rechin and Ermengarde, ii. 192;

- betrothed to Ermenberga daughter of Helias, ii. 232;

- left by his father in command of Le Mans, ib.

Geoffrey, Count of Mayenne, i. 205;

- submits to Duke Robert, i. 209;

- founds the castle of Saint Cenery, i. 214;

- accepts the succession of Hugh, ii. 195, 197;

- truce granted to him by Rufus, ii. 230;
- estimate of his conduct, ii. 231;
- submits to Rufus, ii. 241.

Geoffrey Plantagenet, his parentage, ii. 374.

Geoffrey, Count of Perche,

- enmity of Robert of Bellême to, i. 183, 242;

- Orderic’s estimate of, i. 242 (note).

Gerald, Abbot of Tewkesbury, visits Wulfstan, i. 479.

Gerald of Windsor,

- his wife Nest, ii. 97, 110 (note);
- builds Pembroke Castle, ii. 96;
- defends it against the Welsh, ii. 101, 108;
- his devices against them, ii. 109;
- his mission to King Murtagh, ii. 425;
- grant of Henry I. to, ii. 451.

Gerald, story of his attempt on Randolf Flambard’s life, ii. 560.

Gerard, Bishop of Hereford and Archbishop of York,

- his mission to Pope Urban, i. 524, 525;

- returns with Legate Walter, i. 526;

- his appointment and consecration, i. 543, 544;

- present at the consecration of Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317;

- signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366;

- appointed to the see of York, ii. 392.

Gerard, Bishop of Seez,

- story of the capture of his clerk by Robert of Bellême, ii. 521;

- his death, ib.

Gerard of Gournay,

- submits to William Rufus, i. 229;
- his castle, i. 230;
- supports Rufus, i. 472;
- goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
- his death, ii. 55.

Germinus. See Jurwine.

Geronto, Abbot of Dijon,

- his mission to William Rufus, i. 553, ii. 558;

- rebukes him, i. 554;
- overreached by him, ib.;
- Anselm’s letter to, ii. 589.

Geroy, history of his descendants, i. 214.

Gervase, Archbishop of Rheims, ii. 196.

Gervase, nephew of Bishop Gervase of Le Mans, ii. 201 (note).

Gevelton. See Yeovilton.

Giffard, in the fleet of Magnus, ii. 451.

Gilbert, Bishop of Evreux,

- goes on the first crusade, i. 560;
- goes to Sicily, i. 562;
- attends Odo on his deathbed, i. 563;
- Anselm’s letter to, ii. 575.

Gilbert Maminot, Bishop of Lisieux, his death, ii. 416.

Gilbert of Clare,

- holds Tunbridge Castle against William Rufus, i. 68;

- surrenders, i. 69;

- his gift of the priory of Clare to Bec, i. 376;

- his confession to Rufus, ii. 45;

- with him in the New Forest, ii. 321.

Gilbert of Laigle,

- drives back Robert of Bellême, i. 242;

- his descent and kindred, i. 243 (note);

- comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249, 253;

- enters Rouen, i. 256;

- taken prisoner by Lewis, ii. 190;

- charged with the government of Le Mans, ii. 241;

- with William Rufus in the New Forest, ii. 321;

- legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338, 676.

Gilbert, nephew of Bishop Walcher, ii. 605.

Gillingham,

- meeting of Anselm and William Rufus at, i. 477–481;

- written Illingham by Eadmer, i. 477 (note).

Gilo de Soleio, beholds William’s army on its way to Maine, ii. 228.

Giraldus Cambrensis,

- born at Manorbeer, ii. 95;

- his parentage, ii. 97.

Gisa, Bishop of Somerset, his death, i. 136.

Gisors Castle,

- its first defences by Pagan or Theobald, ii. 186;

- strengthened by Robert of Bellême, ii. 151, 187;

- under Henry II., ii. 188;
- its present appearance, ib.;
- restored to Pagan by Duke Robert, ii. 396.

Givele. See Yeovil.

Glamorgan,

- legend of the conquest of, ii. 79–81, 613;

- estimate of the story, ii. 81;

- settlement of, by Robert Fitzhamon, ii. 81, 84;

- distinguished from Morganwg, ii. 85;
- its extent, ib.;
- military character of its churches, ii. 88.

Gloucester,

- sickness of William Rufus at, i. 391;
- Anselm’s first installation at, i. 400;
- meetings at, ii. 10, 13, 33.

Gloucester Abbey,

- gifts of Arnulf and Emmeline of Hesdin to, ii. 65;

- works of Robert Fitz-hamon at, ii. 84;
- grant of Welsh churches to, ib.;
- consecration of, ii. 317;
- Abbot Fulchered’s sermon there, ii. 318.

Gloucestershire, ravaged by William of Eu, i. 41, 44.

Godehild, daughter of Ralph of Toesny, her marriages, i. 270 (note).

Godgifu, nickname given to Matilda, ii. 389.

Godred Crouan,

- his dominion, ii. 136;
- his expulsion and death, ii. 137;
- his sons, ib.

Godric and Godgifu, nicknames given to Henry I. and Matilda, ii. 389.

Godricus unus liber homo, holds Sparsholt, ii. 380 (note).

Godwine, Earl, a benefactor of Christ Church, Twinham, ii. 555.

Godwine of Winchester,

- story of his duel with Ordgar, ii. 116, 617;

- notices of him in Domesday, ii. 116, 616;

- estimate of the story, ii. 117, 615.

Godfrey of Lorraine, goes on the first crusade, i. 552.

Goodeve, surname, a corruption of Godgifu, ii. 389 (note).

Gordon, General, parallelled with Robert son of Godwine, ii. 123.

Gosfridus Mala Terra, ii. 485.

Gospatric, son of Beloch, ii. 551.

Gospatric, son of Mapbennoc, ii. 551.

Gospatric, son of Orm, ii. 551.

Gournay, castle and church of, i. 230.

Gower,

- no part of Glamorgan, ii. 85;
- conquest of, ii. 102;
- castles built in, ii. 103;

- alleged West-Saxon settlement of, ii. 103, 615;

- granted to Howel, ii. 451.

Gruffydd, son of Cynan,

- his Irish allies, i. 122;
- attacks Rhuddlan, ib.;
- at Dwyganwy, i. 124;
- invades England, ii. 100;
- schemes to save Anglesey, ii. 128;

- fails to hold it and flees to Ireland, ii. 131;

- returns to Wales, ii. 301, 424;

- his settlement with Robert of Bellême, ii. 424.

Gruffydd, grandson of Cadwgan, defeats the English, ii. 107.

Gruffydd, son of Rhydderch, ii. 81.

Gundrada of Gournay, marries Nigel of Albini, ii. 55, 612.

Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester,

- his buildings at Rochester, i. 54 (note);

- his tower at Malling, i. 70;

- sent to punish the monks of Saint Augustine’s, i. 140;

- his friendship with Anselm, i. 374;
- his letter to the monks of Bec, i. 405;
- Anselm’s visit to, i. 406;

- blasphemous speech of William Rufus to, i. 407;

- present at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;

- question as to his action in the council of Rockingham, i. 516 (note);

- present at the consecration of Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317;

- his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;

- expounds William Rufus’s dream to him, ii. 661.

Gundulf, father of Anselm, i. 366.

Guy of Etampes, Bishop of Le Mans, his rebuilding after the fire, ii. 639.

Guy, Abbot of Pershore, his share in the defence of Worcester, ii. 481.

Guy, Abbot of Saint Augustine’s,

- sent with a summons to Bishop William, i. 90;

- driven out by the monks and citizens, i. 139;

- signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Guy, monk of Christ Church, i. 140 (note).

Guy, Count of Ponthieu, i. 180.

Guy of the Rock,

- his fortress of Roche Guyon, ii. 180;

- submits to William Rufus, ii. 181.

Guy of Vienne, Legate, his pretensions not acknowledged, ii. 391.

Guy the Red Knight,

- helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519;

- his daughter betrothed to King Lewis, ib.

Gwenllwg, revolt of, ii. 106.

Gwent, revolt of, ii. 106; English defeat in, ii. 107.

Gwynedd, revolt in, ii. 424.

H.

Haimericus de Moria, his conference with Helias, ii. 371.

Hair, long, fashion of, i. 158, ii. 500.

Hakon, Earl of Orkney,

- Anselm’s letter to, ii. 581;

- his murder of Saint Magnus and repentance, ii. 582.

Hallam, held by Roger of Bully, ii. 160.

Hallam, Henry, on Henry VIII., i. 173 (note).

Hamon, Viscount of Thouars, notices of his lands, ii. 83 (note).

Hamon the Dapifer, signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366.

Harecher, or Archard, of Domfront,

- revolts against Robert of Bellême, i. 319, ii. 538;

- signs the foundation charter of Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.

Harold, son of Godwine,

- case of his excommunication, i. 612;

- his Welsh campaign compared with that of William Rufus, ii. 71, 105.

Harold, son of Harold, with the fleet of Magnus, ii. 134–136, 619.

Harold, son of Godred Crouan, ii. 137.

Harrow, church of, dispute as to its consecration, i. 440.

Hartshorne, Mr.,

- on Rochester, i. 53 (note), 54 (note);

- on Alnwick, ii. 592.

Hasgard, ii. 95 (note).

Hasse, M., his Life of Anselm, i. 325 (note).

Hastings, castle of,

- held by Robert of Eu, i. 229;
- assembly at, i. 441;
- consecration of Robert Bloet at, i. 445.

Hastings, Frank Abney, paralleled with Robert son of Godwine, ii. 123.

Haverfordwest Castle, ii. 95.

Hebrides. See Sudereys.

Hedenham, grant of, to Rochester, ii. 506.

Helias of La Flèche,

- contrasted with Rufus, i. 171;

- enmity of Robert of Bellême to, i. 183;

- his character and descent, i. 205, ii. 195, 196;

- submits to Duke Robert, i. 209;

- his position compared with that of King Philip, ii. 169;

- his castles, ii. 196;

- his wife Matilda, ib.;

- his possible claim on the county of Maine, ii. 195, 197;

- imprisons and sets free Bishop Howel, ii. 198, 199, 624;

- buys the county of Hugh, ii. 203;
- excellence of his reign, ii. 204;
- his friendship for Bishop Howel, ib.;
- prepares to go on the crusade, ii. 205;
- estimate of his action, ii. 206;

- his interview with Robert and with William Rufus, ii. 207–210;

- challenges Rufus, ii. 208;

- makes ready for defence, ii. 210;

- his action in the appointment to the bishopric, ii. 211, 624;

- his acceptance of Hildebert the cause of the war, ii. 213, 625;

- strengthens Dangeul Castle, ii. 213, 214;

- his guerilla warfare, ii. 215;

- defeats Robert of Bellême at Saônes, ii. 222;

- his second victory over him, ii. 223;

- taken prisoner near Dangeul, ii. 223, 224, 625;

- surrendered to William Rufus, ii. 225;

- honourably treated by him, ib.;

- Hildebert negotiates for his release, ii. 238, 625, 628–630;

- William agrees to release him, ii. 238, 628;

- his interview with William at Rouen, ii. 242–245, 640–645;

- defies him, ii. 243, 641;
- is set free, ii. 244, 642, 643;
- his renewed action, ii. 275;
- marches against Le Mans, ii. 277;
- his victory at Pontlieue, ii. 278;
- recovers Le Mans, ib.;
- besieges the castles in vain, ii. 282;
- flees to Château-du-Loir, ii. 287;
- burns two castles, ii. 288;
- returns to Le Mans, ii. 370;

- his dealings with the garrison of the castle, ii. 370, 371;

- called the “White Bachelor,” ii. 371;
- his conference with Walter of Rouen, ib.;
- surrender of the castle to, ii. 373;
- his last reign, ib.;
- his friendship with Henry I., ii. 373, 413;
- his second marriage, ib.;

- descent of the Angevin kings from him, ii. 374;

- notices of his death, ii. 374 (note);

- Anselm’s letter to him, ii. 581.

Helias of Saint-Saens,

- married to Robert’s daughter, i. 235;
- his descent, ib.;
- importance of his position, i. 236;
- his fidelity to Robert, i. 237.

Heloise, Countess of Evreux,

- her rivalry with Isabel of Conches, i. 231–234, 245;

- Orderic’s account of her, i. 237 (note);

- her banishment and death, i. 270;

- Bertrada of Montfort brought up by, ii. 193.

Henry IV.,

- Emperor, i. 549;

- excommunicated at the Council of Clermont, i. 549, 611.

Henry I.,
his familiar knowledge of English, i. viii;
the one Ætheling among William’s sons, i. 11, ii. 461;
an alleged party favours his immediate succession, i. 11 (note);
difficulties in the way of it, i. 20;
refuses a loan to Robert, i. 196;
buys the Côtentin and Avranchin of him, i. 196, ii. 510–516;
his firm rule, i. 197, 221;
goes to England and claims his mother’s lands, i. 195, 197;

William Rufus promises them to him, i. 197;
brings Robert of Bellême back with him, i. 199;
imprisoned by Duke Robert, ib.;
set free, i. 220;
strengthens his castles, i. 221;
comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 248;
sends him away, i. 254;
takes Conan, i. 256;
puts him to death with his own hand, i. 257–259, ii. 516–518;
policy thereof, i. 260;

William and Robert agree together against, i. 278, ii. 527;
excluded from the succession by the treaty of Caen, i. 280;
his position as Ætheling, i. 281;

William’s policy towards, ib.;
strengthens himself against his brothers, i. 283;
besieged by them at Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 284–292, ii. 528–535;

Robert’s generosity to, i. 291, ii. 534;
surrenders, i. 293;
accompanies William to England, i. 293, 295;
his alleged adventures, i. 294, ii. 535–540;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
chosen lord of Domfront, i. 319, ii. 538;
restored to William’s favour, i. 321;
wars against Robert, ib.;
gets back his county, ib.;
occupies the castle of Saint James, ib.;
grants it to Earl Hugh, i. 323;
alleged spoliation of, by Flambard, i. 334, 357;
helps Robert, grandson of Geroy, against Robert of Bellême, i. 469;
summoned by William to Eu, ib.;
goes to England, i. 470;
reconciled to William, ib.;
returns to Normandy and wars against Robert, ib.;

William’s grants to, i. 567;
story of him on the day of William’s death, ii. 321, 345, 346;
his claims to the throne, ii. 344;
his speedy election, ii. 345, 680;

William of Breteuil withstands his demand for the treasure, ii. 346, 680;
popular feeling for him, ii. 346, 351;
his formal election, ii. 347, 348;
fills up the see of Winchester, ii. 349;
his coronation, ii. 350, 681;
goes to London with Robert of Meulan, ii. 350, 680;
form of his oath, ii. 350;
his charter, i. 336, 338, 342, 344, ii. 352–357;
his statute against the mercenaries, i. 154, ii. 498;
his policy towards the second order, ii. 356;
his alleged laws, ii. 357;
his appointments to abbeys, ii. 359;
imprisons Randolf Flambard, ii. 361;
his inner council, ii. 362;
recalls Anselm, ii. 364;

Norman intrigues against, ii. 367, 368, 393, 395;
his war with Robert, ib.;
the garrison of Le Mans send an embassy to, ii. 372;
his friendship with Helias, ii. 373, 413;
his meeting with Anselm, ii. 374;
his dispute with him compared with that of Rufus, i. 605, ii. 374;
calls on Anselm to do homage, ii. 375;
the question is adjourned, ii. 377, 378, 399;
his reformation of the court, ii. 379, 502;
his personal character, ii. 379;
his mistresses and children, ii. 97, 110 (note), 380, 381, 389, 414;
seeks Eadgyth-Matilda in marriage, ii. 382, 684;
his descent from Ælfred, ii. 383;
objections to the marriage, ii. 384, 683–688;
later fables about his marriage, ii. 387, 684, 685;
his marriage, ii. 387;
his nickname of Godric, ii. 389;
his children by Matilda, ib.;
appoints Gerard to the see of York, ii. 392;
his rule distasteful to the Normans, ii. 395;
plots against him, ii. 395, 399;
his Whitsun gemót, ii. 399;
loyalty of the Church and people to, ii. 401, 410, 411;
fusion of Normans and English under, ii. 401, 455;
peace of his reign, ii. 402, 454;
his levy against Robert’s invasion, ii. 403;
desertion of some of his fleet, ii. 404, 686;
and of certain of the nobles, ii. 409;
his nickname of Hartsfoot, ib.;
his trust in Anselm, and promises to him, ii. 410, 411;
his exhortation to his army, ii. 411;
his negotiations with Robert, ii. 412;
their personal meeting and treaty, ii. 412–415, 538, 688–691;
his schemes against the great barons, ii. 415;
his rewards and punishments, ii. 417;
his action against Robert of Bellême, ii. 421, 422;
negotiates against him with Duke Robert, ii. 426;
besieges Arundel, ii. 428;

Arundel and Tickhill surrender to him, ii. 428, 429;
his faith pledged for Robert of Bellême’s life, ii. 430, 438;
his Shropshire campaign, ii. 432 et seq.;
besieges Bridgenorth, ii. 435–444;
division of feeling in his army, ii. 437;
appeal of his army to, ii. 438;
his dealings with the Welsh, ii. 439, 451–453;
surrender of Bridgenorth to, ii. 444;
his march to Shrewsbury, ii. 446–448;
Robert of Bellême submits to, ii. 448;
banishes him and his brothers, ii. 449, 450;
his later imprisonment of Robert of Bellême, i. 184, ii. 450;
banishes William of Mortain, ii. 453;
character and effects of his reign, ii. 454, 457;
the refounder of the English nation, ii. 455;
his compromise with Anselm, ib.;

England reconciled to the Conquest under, ii. 456;
his correspondence with Anselm, ii. 579;
see of Carlisle founded by, i. 318;
at the consecration of Canterbury Cathedral, i. 597 (note);
his settlement of Flemings in Pembrokeshire, ii. 70 (note);
his second marriage, ii. 389 (note);
seizes on the treasure left by Magnus at Lincoln, ii. 624.

Henry II.,

- his blasphemy, i. 167;

- question of the legatine power granted to, i. 526 (note);

- estimate of his dispute with Thomas, i. 605.

Henry VIII. compared with Francis I., i. 173 (note).

Henry of Beaumont,

- earldom of Warwick granted to, i. 472;

- his influence in favour of the election of Henry I., ii. 348, 680;

- his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
- one of his inner council, ii. 362;
- signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366;

- the owner of a burgess at Gloucester, ii. 564.

Henry of Huntingdon as a contemporary writer, i. 9 (note).

Henry of Port, his signature to the charter of Henry I., ii. 358.

Henry, son of Nest and Henry I., ii. 379.

Henry, son of Swegen, ii. 551.

Heppo the balistarius, given as a surety to Bishop William, i. 114, 120.

Herbert Losinga, Bishop of Thetford,

- buys the see for himself, i. 354, ii. 568;

- and the Abbey of New Minster for his father, i. 355;

- repents, and receives his bishopric from the Pope, i. 355, ii. 568;

- anger of Rufus thereat, i. 356, ii. 569;

- not present at Anselm’s consecration, i. 429;

- deprived by Rufus, i. 448, ii. 569;
- restored to his see, i. 449, ii. 569;
- moves the see to Norwich, ib.

Hereditary right, growth of, i. 280.

Hereford, seized by Robert of Lacy, i. 46.

Herfast, Bishop of Thetford, his encounter with Saint Eadmund, ii. 268.

Herlwin, Abbot of Glastonbury, his appointment, ii. 360.

Hervey, Bishop of Bangor, at the consecration of Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317.

Hiesmois, war in, ii. 428.

Hildebert, Bishop of Le Mans,

- his election accepted by Helias, ii. 211, 625;

- his character, ii. 212;

- anger of William Rufus at his election, ii. 213, 625;

- negotiates for the release of Helias, ii. 238, 625, 628–630;

- at the head of the municipal council of Le Mans, ii. 226, 238;

- welcomes William Rufus into Le Mans, ii. 240;

- reconciled to him, ii. 297, 626;

- charges brought against, ib.;

- ordered to pull down the towers of Saint Julian’s, ii. 297, 298, 654;

- receives the kiss of peace from Rotrou’s mother, ii. 373 (note);

- translated to the see of Tours, ii. 212;

- Anselm’s letters to, ii. 580.

Hildebert II., Abbot of Saint Michael’s Mount, his buildings, i. 284.

Hilgot of Le Mans, ii. 201.

Holm Peel, Island of, Magnus at, ii. 141.

Honour, law of,

- as practised by William Rufus, i. 85, 92, 169, 408, ii. 14, 237, 244;

- Palgrave on, ii. 508.

Hook. W. F., his estimate of Anselm, i. 326 (note).

Howard, family of, ii. 430 (note).

Howel, Bishop of Le Mans,

- his loyalty to Duke Robert, i. 205, 208, ii. 198;

- story of his appointment, i. 205;
- consecrated at Rouen, i. 207, 208;
- his conduct during the famine, i. 208;
- imprisoned by Helias, ii. 198, 624;
- liberated by him, ii. 199;

- flees to Robert and is bidden to return, ii. 200;

- his disputes with Hugh and with his chapter, ii. 201;

- comes to England, ib.;
- his reconciliation and return, ii. 202;
- his friendship with Helias, ii. 204;
- translates Saint Julian, ib.;
- his buildings, ii. 205, 634 et seq., 656;
- entertains Urban, ii. 205;
- his sickness, ib.;
- and death, ii. 210;

- foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral signed by, i. 309 (note).

Howel, Welsh prince, flees to Ireland, ii. 301.

Howel, son of Goronwy,

- besieges Pembroke, ii. 108;

- grants to, by Henry I., ii. 452.

Hubert of Rye, his alleged share in the accession of William the Conqueror, ii. 463.

Hucher, M., on Le Mans, ii. 631.

Hugh, Archbishop of Lyons,

- denounces Philip’s adulterous marriage, ii. 173;

- advises Anselm to return after the death of Rufus, ii. 364;

- Anselm’s letter to, i. 419, ii. 571, 576.

Hugh, Saint, his foreign origin, i. 365.

Hugh of Saint-Calais, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings at and gifts to Le Mans, ii. 639, 640.

Hugh, Abbot of Clugny, his dream about William Rufus, ii. 341, 666.

Hugh, Abbot of Flavigny,

- his story of the mission of Abbot Geronto, ii. 588;

- marvellous tales told by, ii. 589;

- his chronicle and career, ib.

Hugh or Hugolin with the Beard, ii. 489.

Hugh the Great, brother of King Philip, goes on the first crusade, i. 350.

Hugh of Avranches, Earl of Chester,

- his loyalty to William Rufus, i. 34, 62;
- supports Henry, i. 221;
- surrenders his castle to William, i. 283;
- his alleged advice to Henry, ii. 530;
- joins Henry, i. 320;

- castle of Saint James granted to, i. 323, ii. 540;

- his friendship with Anselm, i. 380;

- his changes at Saint Werburh’s at Chester, i. 381, 382;

- seeks help from Anselm, i. 382;

- his sickness and messages to Anselm, i. 383;

- summoned by William Rufus to Eu, i. 469;

- goes to England, i. 470;

- his share in the conspiracy of Robert of Mowbray, ii. 38;

- urges the mutilation of William of Eu, ii. 64;

- his advance in Anglesey, ii. 97;

- his last expedition to Anglesey, ii. 129–146, 619;

- bribes the wikings, ii. 130;
- his cruelty to the captives, ii. 131, 132;
- makes peace with Magnus, ii. 145;

- Anglesey and North Wales subdued by, ii. 146;

- compared with Robert of Bellême, ii. 150;

- hastens to acknowledge Henry I. as king, ii. 362;

- one of Henry’s inner council, ib.;

- his death, ii. 410;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536;

- Anselm’s letter of rebuke to, ii. 580.

Hugh Bardolf, gate of Montfort Castle named after, ii. 254.

Hugh, of Beaumont,

- reads the charge against Bishop William, i. 98;

- defies him, i. 101.

Hugh, Earl of Bedford, i. 98 (note), ii. 419 (note).

Hugh of Buckland, Sheriff of Berkshire, his dealings with Abingdon Abbey, ii. 665.

Hugh of Dun, his dealings with Abingdon Abbey, ii. 665.

Hugh of Este, son of Azo,

- sent for by the men of Maine, ii. 195, 198;
- his succession accepted by Helias, ii. 197;
- reaches Le Mans, ii. 200;
- his dispute with Bishop Howel, ii. 201;
- reconciled to him, ii. 202;
- his unpopularity, ib.;

- puts away his wife and is excommunicated, ib.;

- bought out by Helias, ii. 203.

Hugh of Evermouth, i. 571.

Hugh of Grantmesnil,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;

- his ravages, i. 36;

- strengthens his castle against Robert of Bellême, i. 274;

- his death and burial, i. 473.

Hugh of Jaugy, i. 565, ii. 123.

Hugh of Lacy, grant of his brother’s estates to, ii. 63.

Hugh, Count of Meulan, i. 185.

Hugh of Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 57;
- succeeds his father in England, i. 473;
- buys his pardon of Rufus, ii. 62;

- his expedition into Anglesey, ii. 129–144, 619;

- bribes the wikings, ii. 130;
- his cruelty to the captives, ii. 131, 132;
- his death, ii. 144, 618–621;
- his burial, ii. 145;
- effects of his death, ii. 147, 150, 618.

Hugh of Port, i. 117, 120.

Humbald, Archdeacon of Salisbury, ii. 384.

Humbert, Count of Maurienne, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 580.

I.

Ida, Countess of Boulogne, her correspondence with Anselm, i. 374, 384, ii. 571, 581.

Ilchester,

- description of, i. 43;

- besieged by Robert of Mowbray, ib.

Ingemund,

- sent by King Murtagh to the Sudereys, ii. 138;

- his death, ib.

Ingulf, prior of Norwich, ii. 569.

Investiture,

- royal right of, i. 345, 346;
- not questioned by Anselm, i. 403;
- change in his views in regard to, i. 404;

- forbidden by the Council of Clermont, i. 548;

- dispute between Henry I. and Anselm, ii. 375 et seq.;

- Anselm’s letters about, ii. 579, 584.

Iona, isle of,

- Margaret’s gifts to, ii. 21;
- Duncan buried at, ii. 36 (note);
- spared by Magnus, ii. 141.

Ireland,

- designs of William the Conqueror on, ii. 94;

- of William Rufus on, ii. 93;

- of Magnus of Norway on, ii. 136, 141, 620.

Irish, help Rhys and Gruffydd, i. 121, 122.

Isabel or Elizabeth of Vermandois, daughter of Hugh the Great,

- married to Robert of Meulan, i. 187 (note), 551;

- her marriage denounced by Bishop Ivo of Chartres, i. 551 (note);

- her second marriage, i. 187 (note).

Isabel, daughter of Robert of Meulan, mistress of Henry I., i. 187 (note), ii. 380.

Isabel of Montfort, wife of Ralph of Conches,

- her rivalry with Heloise of Evreux, i. 231–234, 245;

- her character, i. 233;

- takes the veil, i. 233 (note), 271.

Isabel, daughter of William of Breteuil, given in marriage to Ascelin Goel, i. 243, 268 (note).

Ivo, Bishop of Chartres,

- his advice to Anselm, i. 367 (note);

- denounces the marriage of Isabel and Robert of Meulan, i. 551 (note);

- protests against the marriage of King Philip and Bertrada, i. 559 (note), ii. 173.

Ivo of Grantmesnil,

- goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
- called the “rope-dancer,” i. 565 (note);
- plots against Henry, ii. 395;
- harries his neighbours’ lands, ii. 417;
- his trial and conviction, ib.;
- his bargain with Robert of Meulan, ii. 418;
- his relations with Leicester, ib.

Ivo, son of Ivo of Grantmesnil, ii. 418.

Ivo Taillebois,

- his action in the case of Bishop William, i. 114, 115;

- holds Kirkby Kendal, ii. 549.

Ivo of Veci, lord of Alnwick, ii. 596.

Ivor, grandson of Cadwgan, defeats the English, ii. 107.

Ivry,

- granted to William of Breteuil, i. 194;
- lost by him, i. 243;
- claimed by Robert of Meulan, ib.

J.

- Jarrow, Tynemouth granted to, ii. 18, 605.

- Jeronto, Abbot. See Geronto.

- Jerusalem, kingdom of, said to have been refused by Duke Robert, i. 566.

- Jerusalem, Patriarch of, Wulfstan’s correspondence with, i. 479.

- Jestin, son of Gwrgan,

- story of him and Einion, ii. 80;
- estimate of the story, ii. 81, 614;
- his descendants, ii. 81 (note), 82, 87;
- his alleged long life, ii. 614.

- Jews,

- settle in England, i. 160;
- their position, ib.;
- favoured by Rufus, i. 161;
- compared with the Sicilian Saracens, ib.;

- dispute between their rabbis and English bishops, ib.;

- converts forced to apostatize by Rufus, i. 162, 614, ii. 504.

- John, King, his devotion to the shrine of Wulfstan, i. 481.

- John of Tours,

- bishopric of Somerset granted to, i. 136, ii. 483;

- removes the see to Bath, ib.;

- his doings at Wells and at Bath, i. 138, ii. 486;

- his architectural works, i. 138;

- assists Osmund to consecrate Salisbury cathedral, i. 309;

- at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;

- Anselm confers with him at Winchester, i. 586;

- at the deathbed of William of Durham, ii. 61;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

- John, Bishop of Tusculum, ii. 488.

- John, Abbot of Telesia, i. 615.

- John, Prior of Bath, letter of Anselm to, ii. 490.

- John, son of Odo of Bayeux, ii. 488.

- John of La Flèche, father of Helias, ii. 196.

- Jones, Longueville, on Penmon and Aberlleiniog, ii. 130 (note).

- Jorwerth, son of Bleddyn,

- becomes the man of Robert of Bellême, ii. 424;

- his action on behalf of Robert, ii. 433;

- promises of Henry I. to, ii. 439;

- influences the Welsh on his behalf, ii. 440, 442;

- his war with his brothers, ii. 451;
- Henry’s want of faith to, ib.;
- his trial and imprisonment, ii. 452;
- his later history, ii. 453.

- Judith, wife of Tostig, her invention of Saint Oswine’s body, ii. 18, 604.

- Julian, Saint, translation of his body, ii. 204.

- Juliana, natural daughter of Henry I., i. 201, ii. 380.

- Jurwine, son of King Anna of East-Anglia, ii. 268 (note).

- Justice, technical use of the word, i. 191 (note).

- Justiciarship, growth of the office under Flambard, i. 331.

K.

- Kenfig, borough of, ii. 88.

- Kidwelly, ii. 86;

- conquest of, ii. 102;

- granted to Howell, ii. 451.

- Kings, doctrine of their immunity from drowning, ii. 284, 647, 648, 651.

- Kirkby Kendal, held by Ivo Taillebois, ii. 549.

- Knights,

- privileges granted to, by Henry I., ii. 355;

- effect of this grant, ii. 356.

L.

La Chartre, castle of, ii. 275.

La Ferté Saint Samson, castle of, surrendered to Rufus, i. 230.

La Flèche,

- Helias withdraws to, ii. 275;

- castle of, ii. 276.

La Houlme, castle of,

- held by Rufus, i. 462;

- taken by Robert, i. 465.

La Lude, castle of, ii. 275.

La Roche Guyon, castle of, ii. 180, 181.

Lagman, son of Godred Crouan, ii. 137.

Laigle, town of, i. 73 (note).

Lambert, chaplain to Ida of Boulogne, ii. 581.

Lambeth,

- grant of, to Rochester, ii. 506;

- given in exchange to Canterbury, ib.

Land, tenure of, Flambard’s theory of, i. 337.

Lanfranc,

- his special agency in the accession of William Rufus, i. 10, 12, ii. 459;

- his grief at the death of William the Conqueror, i. 15;

- crowns William Rufus, ib.;

- binds him to follow his counsel, i. 16, ii. 460;

- attends the Christmas assembly at Westminster, i. 18;

- Odo’s hatred towards, i. 24, 53 (note);

- his loyalty to William, i. 63;

- his part in the meeting at Salisbury, i. 95, 119;

- his view of vestments, i. 95;

- his position as regards that of Bishop William, i. 97;

- his answer to Bishop Geoffrey, i. 100;
- to Bishop William, i. 105, 110;
- interposes on his behalf, i. 113;
- his death, i. 140;

- its effect on William Rufus, i. 141, 142, 148 (note);

- his position in England and Normandy, i. 141;

- buried at Christ Church, i. 142;

- his relations with William the Conqueror, i. 328;

- compared with Anselm, i. 368, 456;

- advises Anselm to become a monk of Bec, i. 371.

Lanfranc, nephew of Archbishop Lanfranc, ii. 575.

Laodikeia, Eadgar and Robert at, i. 564.

Lateran,

- Council of (1099), i. 607, 621;

- destruction of the apse, i. 607 (note).

Leckhampsted, lands at, taken from Abingdon Abbey, ii. 665.

Legitimacy, growth of the doctrine of, i. 280.

Le Hardy,

- M. Gaston, quoted, i. 145 (note);

- his apology for Duke Robert, i. 175 (note).

Leicester,

- college at, founded by Robert of Meulan, ii. 420;

- foundation of the abbey, ib.;

- churches at, ii. 420 (note).

Leicester, earldom of, its origin, ii. 418.

Le Mans,

- temporal relations of the bishopric, i. 207;

- under an interdict, ii. 199;

- claims of the Norman dukes over the bishopric, ii. 200, 212;

- Howel’s buildings at, ii. 205;
- Pope Urban’s visit to, ib.;
- welcomes Duke Robert’s host, i. 209;
- new municipality of, ii. 226;
- garrisoned by Fulk, ii. 232, 628;
- besieged by Rufus, ii. 233–235;
- siege of, raised, ii. 235;
- submits to Rufus, ii. 238, 628;
- fortresses of, ii. 239, 631;
- entry of Rufus into the town, ii. 240;
- description of the church, ib.;
- recovered by Helias, ii. 278;
- the castles still held for Rufus, ii. 279;
- compared with the deliverance of York, ib.;
- burning of, ii. 280;
- modern destruction at, ii. 281 (note);
- William’s march against, ii. 287;
- flight of the citizens, ii. 288;
- William’s treatment of, ii. 295, 296;

- orders the destruction of the towers of Saint Julian’s, ii. 297, 654;

- description of the towers, ii. 299, 655;
- return of Helias to, ii. 370;
- action of the garrison, ii. 370–373;
- palace of the counts at, ii. 632, 656;
- dates of the building, ii. 632–639, 656;
- burning of, ii. 638.

Leofwine, Dean of Durham, ii. 605.

Lewes,

- held by William of Warren, i. 59;

- customs of, i. 59 (note);

- William of Warren’s death and burial at, i. 62 (note), 76.

Lewis VI. of France (the Fat), ii. 170;

- Bertrada’s schemes against him, ii. 174;

- grant of the Vexin to, ii. 175;

- refuses to cede the Vexin to William Rufus, ii. 176;

- his difficulties in the war with William, ii. 178;

- betrothed to a daughter of Guy the Red Knight, ii. 519;

- his letter to Anselm, ii. 580.

Lewis IX. of France (Saint Lewis),

- his ordinance against blasphemy, i. 167;

- his walls at Rouen, i. 252.

Ligulf, father of Morkere, ii. 605.

Limoges, massacre of, i. 173 (note).

Lincoln,

- its connexion with Norway, ii. 134;
- Jews at, i. 160 (note);
- prevalence of the slave-trade at, i. 310;
- completion of the minster, ib.;

- Thomas of York claims jurisdiction over, i. 311, 433;

- consecration delayed by the death of Remigius, i. 312;

- see kept vacant by Rufus, i. 356, 381;

- jurisdiction over again claimed by Thomas of York, i. 433;

- compromise concerning, i. 447.

Lindesey, jurisdiction of, claimed by Thomas of York, i. 311.

Lindisfarn, Isle of, ii. 50 (note).

Llancarfan, church of, granted to Gloucester abbey, ii. 84.

Llandaff, see of, ii. 86, 89.

Llanrhidian Castle, ii. 103.

Llantrissant, ii. 88.

Llantwit, church of, granted to Tewkesbury, ii. 84.

Llywelyn, son of Cadwgan, his death, ii. 301.

Loir, Castle of the. See Château-du-Loir.

London,

- Jews settle in, i. 160;

- great wind and fire in, i. 308;

- buildings of William Rufus in, ii. 258, 261;

- growth of its greatness, ii. 261;

- dogs of, mentioned by Hugh of Flavigny, ii. 589.

London Bridge, ii. 259, 260, 261.

London, Tower of. See Tower of London.

Longueville, castle of, surrendered to Rufus, i. 231.

Lonlay Abbey, foundation charter of, ii. 539.

Lords, House of,

- foreshadowed by the inner Council of the Witan, i. 603;

- gradual developement of, ii. 58.

Losinga, origin of the name, ii. 570.

Lothian, question as to the homage of Malcolm for, i. 303, ii. 541 et seq.

Luca, per vultum de,

- favourite oath of William Rufus, i. 108, 112, 164, 289, 391, 511 (note), ii. 61 (note), 503, 650;

- meaning of the phrase, ii. 503.

Lucan, whether quoted by Rufus, ii. 642, 647.

Lugubalia. See Carlisle.

Lund, archbishopric of, ii. 582.

Lurçon, castle of, ii. 216.

M.

Mabel, wife of Earl Roger, poisons Arnold of Escalfoi and seizes on Saint Cenery, i. 215.

Mabel, daughter of Robert Fitz-hamon, marries Robert of Gloucester, ii. 83.

Maelgwyn, i. 124.

Magnus Barefoot, king of Norway,

- his expedition into Britain, ii. 133 et seq., 617–624;

- character of his reign, ii. 133;
- his surnames, ib.;
- professes friendship for England, ib.;
- his sons, ib.;
- his treasure at Lincoln, ii. 134, 624;
- his designs on Ireland, ii. 136, 141, 620;
- his alleged Irish marriage, ii. 136, 622;

- his voyage among the islands, ii. 136, 140–142;

- legend of him and Saint Olaf, ii. 139;
- seizes the Earls of Orkney, ii. 140;
- grants the earldom to Sigurd, ib.;
- his dealings with Galloway, ii. 141;
- occupies Man, ib.;
- approaches Anglesey, ii. 143, 619, 621;

- kills Hugh of Shrewsbury, ii. 144, 620, 621;

- makes peace with Hugh of Chester, ii. 145;

- his designs on Anglesey, ib.;

- his dealings with King Murtagh, ii. 146, 622;

- and with Scotland, ii. 147;

- Arnulf of Montgomery negotiates with, ii. 426;

- his second voyage round Britain, ii. 442;

- his castle-building in Man, ib.;

- refuses help to Robert of Bellême, ii. 443, 623, 624;

- his death, ii. 451;

- described as “rex Germaniæ,” ii. 619, 620.

Magnus, Saint, murdered by Hakon, ii. 582.

Maine,

- history of, under the Conqueror, i. 203;
- dissatisfaction in, under Robert, i. 204;
- alleged derivation of its name, i. 205;
- submits to Robert, i. 209;

- stipulation about, in the treaty of Caen, i. 277, ii. 524;

- men of, send for Hugh son of Azo as their ruler, ii. 195;

- revolts against Robert, ii. 197;

- peace of, under Helias, ii. 204;

- cession of, demanded by William Rufus, ii. 208;

- his designs on, ii. 213;
- attacked by Robert of Bellême, ib.;
- geographical character of the war, ii. 214;

- beginning of the war of William Rufus in, ii. 167, 215;

- castles of Robert of Bellême in, ii. 216;
- teaching of its landscapes, ii. 219;
- castles of, ii. 219–221;
- contrasted with England, ii. 220;

- general submission of, to William Rufus, ii. 241;

- extent of his conquests in, ii. 245;
- southern part harried by Rufus, ii. 288;
- no bribery in, ii. 290;
- later fortune of, ii. 374.

Malchus, Bishop of Waterford, consecrated by Anselm, i. 544.

Malcolm III., King of Scots,

- invades Northumberland, i. 295;
- driven back, i. 296;
- his relations with Robert, i. 297;

- meets William Rufus at Scots’ Water, i. 301;

- negotiates with him through Robert, i. 302;

- two versions of the negotiations, i. 302–304, ii. 540–545;

- his alleged homage to Robert, i. 302, ii. 542;

- question as to his earlier betrothal to Margaret, i. 303, ii. 542;

- as to the homage for Lothian, i. 303, ii. 541 et seq.;

- does homage to Rufus, i. 304, ii. 541;
- his correspondence with Wulfstan, i. 479;
- his complaints against Rufus, ii. 8;
- summoned to Gloucester, ii. 9, 590;

- lays one of the foundation-stones of Durham Abbey, ii. 11;

- much of his dominions in Durham diocese, ii. 12;

- Rufus refuses to see him at Gloucester, i. 410, ii. 13, 590;

- dispute between them, ii. 13;
- returns to Scotland, ii. 14;
- invades England, ii. 15, 592;
- English feeling towards, ii. 16, 595;
- slain at Alnwick, i. 410, ii. 5, 16, 592;

- alleged treachery towards him, ii. 16, 592 et seq.;

- his burial at Tynemouth, ii. 17;
- translated to Dunfermline, ii. 18;
- local estimate of his death, ii. 19;
- his devotion to Margaret, ii. 20;
- acts as her interpreter, ii. 23;
- his visit to Romsey, ii. 31, 600;
- what languages he spoke, ii. 591.

Malling, Gundulf’s tower at, i. 70.

Malpeter, Mormaor of Mærne, ii. 36.

Malvoisin, towers so called, use of, ii. 51, 435, 520, 608.

Mamers, castle of, ii. 216, 217.

Man,

- the centre of Godred Crouan’s dominion, ii. 136;

- civil war in, ii. 138;
- occupied by Magnus, ii. 141, 619;
- his designs with regard to, ii. 142, 620;
- his castle-building in, ii. 442.

Manorbeer Castle, birthplace of Giraldus, ii. 95.

Mantes,

- granted to Lewis by Philip, ii. 175;

- claimed by William Rufus, ii. 176.

Margam Abbey, ii. 89.

Margaret, daughter of Eadward,

- question as to her earlier betrothal to Malcolm, i. 303, ii. 542;

- her correspondence with Wulfstan, i. 479;
- her character, ii. 20;
- her influence on Malcolm, ii. 20, 23;
- her education of their children, ii. 21;
- her reforms, ii. 22;

- increases the pomp of the Scottish court, ii. 23;

- Scottish feeling towards, ii. 25, 28, 597;

- hears of her husband’s death, ii. 26, 592, 594;

- versions of her death, ii. 26–28;

- her burial at Dunfermline, ii. 28, 597.

Margaret of Mortagne, wife of Henry of Warwick, ii. 348.

Marriage, lord’s right of,

- growth of, under Rufus, i. 336;

- peculiar to England and Normandy, i. 340;

- restrained by the charter of Henry I., ii. 353.

Mary, daughter of Malcolm,

- brought up in Romsey Abbey, ii. 31, 598;

- marries Eustace of Boulogne, ii. 31.

Matilda of Flanders, Queen,

- lands of, claimed by Henry, i. 195, 197;

- they are granted to Robert Fitz-hamon, i. 198.

Matilda, or Eadgyth, Queen, wife of Henry I.,

- her sojourn at Romsey, ii. 31, 599;
- her relations with Henry, ib.;
- tale of her and William Rufus, ii. 32, 600;

- sought in marriage by Alan of Richmond, ii. 602;

- sought in marriage by Henry, ii. 31, 382;
- her beauty and learning, ii. 382;
- policy of the marriage, ii. 383;

- wishes to appoint Eadwulf abbot of Malmesbury, ii. 383 (note);

- objections to the marriage, ii. 384, 683;
- appeals to Anselm, ib.;
- declared free to marry, ii. 385;

- other versions of the story, ii. 385–387, 683 et seq.;

- later fables about her marriage, ii. 387, 684, 685;

- her marriage and coronation, ii. 387, 388;
- takes the name of Matilda, ii. 305, 388;
- her nickname of Godgifu, ii. 389;
- her children, ib.;
- her character, ii. 390;
- known as “good Queen Mold,” ii. 391;
- Robert’s generosity to her, ii. 406;
- baptized by the name of Eadgyth, ii. 598;
- god-daughter of Duke Robert, ii. 602.

Matilda, Empress, daughter of Henry I. and Matilda, ii. 389.

Matilda, wife of Stephen, and granddaughter of Malcolm, ii. 31.

Matilda, Abbess of Caen, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 579.

Matilda, Countess of Perche, natural daughter of Henry the First, ii. 379.

Matilda, wife of Helias of La Flèche, ii. 196.

Matilda of Laigle,

- marries Robert of Mowbray, i. 243 (note), ii. 38;

- holds out at Bamburgh, ii. 54, 609;

- yields to save her husband’s eyes, ii. 54;

- her second marriage and divorce, ii. 55, 612.

Matilda, wife of William of Bellême, signs the foundation-charter of Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.

Matilda, daughter of Waltheof, marries David of Scotland, ii. 124.

Matilda of Wallingford, her foundation at Oakburn, i. 376 (note).

Matthew, Count of Beaumont, helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519.

Matthew Paris, his version of the accession of William Rufus, ii. 461.

Maule, fortress of, ii. 251, 253.

Maurice, Bishop of London,

- his dispute with Anselm, i. 440;
- crowns Henry I., ii. 350, 681;
- his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;

- false story of his approaching death brought to Flambard, ii. 560.

Mayet Castle, ii. 196;

- strengthened by Helias, ii. 275;
- siege of, ii. 289–294, 652;
- raising of the siege, ii. 294, 653;
- description of, ii. 652.

Mediolanum. See Evreux.

Mercenaries,

- employment of under William Rufus, i. 134, 153, 226, ii. 496;

- their presence tends to promote the fusion of English and Normans, i. 134;

- their wrong-doings, i. 154, ii. 498;

- statute of Henry I. against, ib.

Meredydd, son of Bleddyn,

- becomes the man of Robert of Bellême, ii. 424;

- his action on his behalf, ii. 442.

Merewine of Chester-le-Street, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Meulan, importance of its position, ii. 183.

Mevania. See Anglesey.

Milford Haven, ii. 95.

Mona. See Anglesey.

Monacledin, Duncan slain at, ii. 36 (note).

Monarches, use of the title, ii. 484.

Montacute (near Saint Cenery), castle of, besieged by Duke Robert and destroyed, i. 469 (note).

Montacute Priory, ii. 120.

Mont Barbé, castle of, at Le Mans, i. 239, 361.

Montbizot, ii. 232.

Mont-de-la-Nue, castle of, ii. 216.

Montfort l’Amaury,

- fortress of, ii. 251, 253;
- church of, ii. 254;
- defended by the younger Simon, ib.

Montgomery (in Wales),

- castle of, ii. 77;

- taken by the Welsh, ii. 104.

Morel,

- slays Malcolm, ii. 16, 593;
- plunders Norwegian ships, ii. 40;
- holds out at Bamburgh, ii. 54, 610;
- turns king’s-evidence, ii. 55;
- his end, ii. 69;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Moreldene, ii. 17.

Morgan, son of Jestin, ii. 81 (note).

Morganwg,

- distinguished from Glamorgan, ii. 85;

- conquest of, see Glamorgan.

Morkere, son of Ælfgar,

- re-imprisoned by William, i. 13, 14;

- his signature to a charter of William of Saint-Calais, i. 14 (note).

Moses of Canterbury, ii. 573.

Motte de Gauthier-le-Clincamp, castle of, ii. 216.

Mowbray Castle, granted to Nigel of Albini, ii. 612.

Murtagh, Muirchertach, or Murchard,

- calls himself king of Ireland, i. 544;

- Anselm’s letters to, i. 545 (note), ii. 581;

- his answer to the threat of William Rufus, ii. 94;

- drives Godred Crouan out of Dublin, ii. 137;

- sends Donald to the Sudereys, ib.;

- his dealings with Magnus of Norway, ii. 146, 622, 624;

- marries his daughter to Sigurd, ii. 136, 146, 443, 622;

- Arnulf of Montgomery’s dealings with, ii. 425, 426, 442.

Mutilation, feeling with regard to, i. 548 (note), ii. 64.

N.

Neath, borough and abbey of, ii. 88, 89.

Neauphlé-le-Château, ii. 251;

- defended by the elder Simon of Montfort, ii. 253.

Nest, wife of Bernard of Newmarch,

- her descent, ii. 90;
- her faithlessness to her husband, ii. 91;
- her grant to Battle Abbey, ii. 91 (note).

Nest,

- wife of Gerald of Windsor, ii. 97, 110 (note);

- her relations with Henry I., ii. 97, 110 (note), 379.

Nest, daughter of Jestin, marries Einion, ii. 80.

Neufchâtel-en-Bray, i. 236 (note).

Neuilly, Robert of Bellême imprisoned at, i. 199.

Newcastle-upon-Tyne,

- defended by Robert of Mowbray, ii. 46;

- taken by William Rufus, ii. 47, 607.

New Forest,

- its supposed connexion with the Saxon colony at Carlisle, i. 316, ii. 550;

- death of Richard son of Duke Robert there, ii. 316;

- various versions of the death of William Rufus in, ii. 325 et seq.

Nicolas, Bishop of Llandaff, his charter, ii. 84 (note).

Nidaros. See Trondhjem.

Nigel of Albini,

- his marriages, ii. 55, 612;

- Mowbray Castle granted to, ii. 612.

Nithing Proclamation of William, i. 78.

Nivard of Septeuil, ii. 252.

Nomenclature of Wales compared with that of England, ii. 75.

Nomenclature, personal, illustrations of, ii. 489, 551, 577.

Norham Castle, founded by Flambard, ii. 272.

Norman Conquest,

- at once completed and undone under Rufus and under Henry I., i. 3, 7, 130, ii. 456;

- England reconciled to it by Henry I., ii. 456;

- compared with that of Wales, ii. 72.

Norman nobles,

- revolt against William Rufus, i. 22 et seq., ii. 465 et seq.;

- refuse to attend the Easter Gemôt, i. 32;
- amnesty granted to, by Rufus, i. 88;
- accepted as Englishmen, i. 132;
- some loyal to Rufus, i. 62;
- second revolt of, ii. 37.

Normandy,

- chief seat of warfare in the reign of Rufus, i. 178;

- contrasted with England, ib.;

- temptations for the invasion of Rufus, i. 188;

- under Robert, i. 189, 190;
- spread of vice in, i. 192;
- building of castles in, ib.;
- its rivalry with France, i. 201;

- Rufus’s invasion of, agreed to by the Witan, i. 222–224;

- its relations with England and France, i. 240;

- private wars in, i. 241–244;
- Orderic’s picture of, i. 271;
- Rufus crosses over to, i. 273;
- compared with England, i. 468;
- her share in the first crusade, i. 547;
- pledged to Rufus by Robert, i. 555;
- Rufus takes possession of, i. 566;
- his rule in, i. 567, 569, 570;
- renewed anarchy in, on his death, ii. 366.

Normannus. See Northman.

Normans and English,

- fusion of, i. 130, 134, ii. 401, 455;

- use of the words, ii. 649.

Northallerton, church of, granted to the monks of Durham, i. 535.

Northampton,

- architectural arrangements of the castle, i. 601;

- constitution of the Council of 1164, i. 602.

Northman, monk of Christ Church, i. 140 (note).

Northumberland, invaded by Malcolm, i. 296.

Norwich, see of Thetford moved to, i. 449; ii. 569.

O.

Oakburn, a cell of Bec, i. 376 (note).

Odo, Bishop of Bayeux,

- restored to his earldom, i. 19, ii. 467;

- his discontent and intrigues, i. 23, 24, ii. 465;

- his hatred towards Lanfranc, i. 24, 53 (note);

- his harangue against William Rufus, i. 26, ii. 466;

- his ravages in Kent, i. 52;
- occupies Rochester Castle, i. 55;
- invites Robert over, i. 56;
- hated by the English, i. 67, 86;
- moves to Pevensey, i. 70;
- besieged therein by Rufus, i. 72–76;
- surrenders on favourable terms, i. 76;
- his treachery at Rochester, i. 77;
- besieged therein, i. 79;
- agrees to surrender, i. 80;
- Rufus refuses his terms, i. 81;
- pleadings made for, i. 83;
- terms granted to, by Rufus, i. 85;
- his humiliation and banishment, i. 85–87;
- his influence with Duke Robert, i. 199;
- his exhortation to him, i. 200;
- marches with him into Maine, i. 208;
- his further schemes, i. 211;
- goes on the first crusade, i. 560;

- his death and tomb at Palermo, i. 563, 571, ii. 307;

- said to have married Philip and Bertrada, ii. 172.

Odo, Abbot of Chertsey,

- resigns his abbey, i. 350;

- restored by Henry, ib.

Odo of Champagne, lord of Holderness,

- part of the lands of the see of Durham granted to, i. 90;

- his agreement with the Bishop, i. 93;
- intervenes on his behalf, i. 109, 117, 120;
- confiscation of his lands, ii. 66.

Odo, Duke of Burgundy, his alleged scheme against Anselm, i. 606.

Ogmore Castle, ii. 86.

Olaf, Saint, legend of him and Magnus, ii. 139.

Olaf, son of Godred Crouan, ii. 137, 623.

Oldbury, ii. 155.

Omens, William Rufus sneers at the English regard for, ii. 330.

Ordeal,

- contempt of William Rufus for, i. 157, 165;

- Eadmer’s belief in, i. 166 (note).

Orderic,

- writes Robert of Rhuddlan’s epitaph, i. 128;

- his picture of Normandy, i. 271;

- dictates his writings, i. 272 (note);

- his account of the expedition of Magnus, ii. 142;

- the only writer who mentions Eadgyth-Matilda’s change of name, ii. 687.

Ordgar,

- his charge against Eadgar Ætheling, ii. 115, 617;

- story of his duel with Godwine, ii. 115–117, 617;

- estimate of the story, ii. 117, 615;

- notices of, in Domesday, ii. 616.

Ordwine, monk, Anselm’s letters to, ii. 579.

Orkneys, invaded by Magnus, ii. 140.

Orm, priest, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Orm’s Head, the, origin of the name, i. 123 (note).

Orricus de Stanton, ii. 555.

Osbern, monk of Bec, various bearers of the name, i. 374 (note).

Osbern, brother of Flambard, ii. 551.

Osbern of Orgères, companion of Robert of Rhuddlan, i. 126.

Osbern of Richard’s Castle, rebels against William Rufus, i. 33.

Osgod Clapa, his irreverence towards Saint Eadmund, ii. 268.

Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury,

- sent with a summons to Bishop William, i. 116;

- consecrates his cathedral, i. 309;

- helps at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;

- absolved by Anselm for his conduct at Rockingham, i. 533;

- Anselm confers with him at Winchester, i. 586;

- receives William of Alderi’s confession, ii. 68;

- not present at his hanging, ib.;

- his death, i. 351, ii. 302;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Oswald, Saint, King of the Northumbrians,

- rebuilds the church of Tynemouth, ii. 17, 604;

- his relic at Bamburgh, ii. 49, 608.

Oswine, King of Deira,

- his martyrdom, ii. 17;
- invention of his relics, ii. 18, 603;
- his translation, ii. 18, 606.

Outillé Castle,

- strengthened by Helias, ii. 275;

- burned by him, ii. 288.

Owen, son of Edwin, ii. 424.

Oystermouth Castle, ii. 103.

P.

Padua, siege of, i. 173 (note).

Pagan or Theobald,

- fortifies Gisors, ii. 186;

- taken prisoner by Lewis, ii. 186 (note), 190;

- Gisors restored to, ii. 396.

Pagan of Montdoubleau,

- holds Ballon against Duke Robert, i. 209;

- Orderic’s tale of his forsaking Saint Cenery, i. 469 (note);

- betrays Ballon to William Rufus, ii. 235.

Pagan of Turberville,

- holds Coyty, ii. 87;

- joins the Welsh, ii. 104.

Palermo, death and tomb of Odo of Bayeux at, i. 563, 571, ii. 307.

Palgrave, Sir F.,

- on chivalry, ii. 508;

- his condemnation of the crusades, ii. 509;

- on the alleged Domesday of Randolf Flambard, ii. 562–564;

- his belief in the legend about Purkis, ii. 679.

Pallium,

- elder usage as to, i. 482;

- not needful for the validity of archiepiscopal acts, i. 483.

Papacy, English feeling as to the schism in, i. 415.

Paschal II., Pope,

- speech of William Rufus on his election, i. 623;

- Anselm’s letters to, ii. 582.

Paul, Abbot of Saint Alban’s,

- Anselm’s friendship with, i. 424;

- his death, i. 424, ii. 18.

Paul, Earl of Orkney,

- taken prisoner by Magnus, ii. 140;

- his death in Norway, ii. 140, 581.

Paula, mother of Helias of La Flèche, ii. 196.

Peckham manor,

- mortgaged by Anselm to the monks of Christ Church, i. 559;

- kept by the monks, i. 596.

Peers, their right of trial, i. 604 (note).

Pembroke Castle,

- description of, ii. 96;
- begun by Arnulf of Montgomery, ib.;
- later castle, ib.;

- defended by Gerald of Windsor, ii. 101, 108;

- surrendered to Henry I. by Arnulf, ii. 450 (note);

- grant of, by Henry I., ii. 451.

Pembrokeshire,

- Flemish settlement in, ii. 70 (note), 74, 88, 615;

- building of castles in, ii. 93;

- military character of its buildings, ii. 96.

Penmon Priory, ii. 129, 130 (note).

Penrice Castle, ii. 103.

Percy, house of, beginning of its connexion with Alnwick, ii. 15, 596.

Perray, castle of, ii. 216.

Peter of Maule, ii. 252.

Peterborough, monks of, buy a congé d’élire of Rufus, i. 352.

Pevensey,

- held by Robert of Mortain, i. 53, 62;
- Odo moves to, i. 70;
- castle of, i. 72;
- besieged by William Rufus, i. 73–76;

- attempted landing of the Normans at, i. 74, ii. 468, 481;

- surrenders, i. 76;

- Henry I. gathers his fleet at, ii. 404.

Philip I. of France,

- marches with Robert against Eu, i. 238;
- bought off by William Rufus, i. 239;
- historical importance of this bribe, ib.;

- mediates between William Rufus and Robert, i. 275, ii. 522;

- helps Robert against William, i. 463;
- returns to France, i. 464;
- bought off by William, i. 466;

- his position compared with that of Helias of Maine, ii. 169;

- rebuked by Bishop Ivo of Chartres, i. 559 (note);

- puts away his first wife, ii. 171;

- seeks Emma of Sicily in marriage, ii. 171 (note);

- his adulterous marriage with Bertrada of Montfort, i. 548, ii. 171, 172;

- denounced by Hugh of Lyons, ii. 173;
- his excommunication, i. 549, ii. 173;
- his pretended divorce, ii. 173 (note);
- his sons by Bertrada, ii. 174;
- grants the Vexin to Lewis, ii. 175;
- his letter to Anselm, ii. 580.

Philip, son of Philip and Bertrada, ii. 174.

Philip of Braose, supports William Rufus, i. 472.

Philip, son of Roger of Montgomery,

- goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
- conspires against William Rufus, ii. 38;
- signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Piacenza,

- Council of, i. 522, 545;

- no mention of English affairs at, i. 522.

Pipe Rolls, notices of nomenclature in, ii. 551.

Poix, lordship of Walter Tirel, ii. 673.

Ponthieu, acquired by Robert of Bellême, ii. 423.

Pontlieue, victory of Helias at, ii. 278.

Pontoise,

- granted to Lewis by Philip, ii. 175;
- claimed by William Rufus, ii. 176;
- withstands William Rufus, ii. 185;
- castle and town of, ii. 247;

- the furthest point in the French campaign of William Rufus, ii. 248.

Pope,

- William of Saint-Calais appeals to, i. 103, 109;

- first appeal made to, i. 119;

- not to be acknowledged without the king’s consent, i. 414;

- Anselm insists on the acknowledgement, i. 416;

- question left unsettled, i. 424;

- no reference to, in the case of English episcopal appointments, i. 425;

- position of England towards, i. 496.

Porchester,

- Duke Robert lands at, ii. 405;

- church and castle of, ii. 406 (note).

Powys, advance of Earl Roger in, ii. 97.

Prisoners, ransom of, i. 464.

Purkis, the charcoal-burner, legend of, ii. 679.

Q.

- Quatford,

- Danish fortification at, ii. 152;
- castle of, ii. 153;
- Earl Roger’s buildings at, ii. 154;

- legend of the foundation of the church, ii. 154 (note).

R.

Radegund, wife of Robert of Geroy, i. 469 (note).

Radnor, ii. 77.

Ralph Luffa,

- Bishop of Chichester, i. 353;

- at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;

- whether a mediator between Henry I. and the garrison of Arundel, ii. 430 (note).

Ralph, Bishop of Coutances, at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444.

Ralph, Abbot of Seez, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury,

- driven out by Robert of Bellême, i. 184, 242;

- his alleged share in the surrender of Arundel, ii. 430 (note).

Ralph of Aix, death of William Rufus attributed to, ii. 325, 334, 663.

Ralph of Fresnay and Beaumont,

- truce granted to, by William Rufus, ii. 230;

- estimate of his conduct, ii. 231;

- submits to William Rufus, ii. 241.

Ralph of Mortemer,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;

- submits to him, i. 231.

Ralph Paganel, Sheriff of Yorkshire,

- his treatment of William of Saint-Calais, i. 31;

- founds Holy Trinity Priory, York, ib.;

- his action in regard to Bishop William’s lands, i. 90;

- at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 111.

Ralph of Toesny, or Conches,

- drives out the ducal forces, i. 193;

- joins Robert’s expedition into Maine, i. 209;

- his feud with William of Evreux, i. 231, 233, 245;

- asks help in vain from Duke Robert, i. 234;

- submits to Rufus, ib.;

- his treaties with William of Evreux, i. 267, 270;

- wars against Robert of Meulan, i. 270;

- supports William Rufus in his second invasion, i. 472;

- his death, i. 270;

- entertains William Rufus, ii. 246.

Ralph of Toesny, the younger, i. 233, 271.

Ralph of Wacey, his nickname, ii. 193.

Ralph of Wader, goes on the first crusade, i. 552.

Rama, siege of, ii. 117 (note), 122.

Randolf Flambard, Bishop of Durham,

- feudal developement under, i. 4;

- his early history, i. 329, ii. 551;

- said to have been Dean of Twinham, i. 330, ii. 553;

- his parents, i. 331;
- origin of his surname, i. 331, ii. 555;
- his financial skill, i. 331;

- his probable share in Domesday, i. 331, ii. 552;

- his alleged new Domesday, i. 332, ii. 562;

- Justiciar, i. 333, ii. 557;

- his loss of land for the New Forest, i. 333;

- his systematic changes and exactions, i. 333, 339, 346, 348;

- his alleged spoliation of the rich, i. 334, 341;

- systematizes the feudal tenures, i. 336 et seq.;

- his theory of land tenure, i. 337;
- extent of his changes, i. 340;
- the law-giver of English feudalism, i. 341;

- suggests the holding of the revenues of vacant sees, i. 345 et seq., ii. 564;

- his action in keeping the see of Canterbury vacant, i. 363 (note);

- his suit against Anselm, i. 428;

- attacks and imprisons Robert son of Godwine, ii. 121;

- King Eadgar’s action towards, ib.;
- his exactions, ii. 256;
- joint regent with Bishop Walkelin, ii. 266;
- see of Durham granted to, ii. 271;
- his consecration, ib.;
- character of the appointment, ii. 272;
- his buildings at Durham, ii. 60, 272;
- founds Norham Castle, ib.;
- his personal character, ii. 273;
- his penitent end, ii. 274;

- his dealings with Saint Alban’s Abbey, ii. 359 (note);

- imprisoned by Henry, ii. 361;
- his escape, ii. 397;
- adventures of his mother, ii. 398;
- stirs Duke Robert up against Henry, ib.;

- said to have brought about desertions to Duke Robert, ii. 404;

- receives the revenues of the see of Lisieux under cover of his son, ii. 416;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536;

- entries about, in Domesday, ii. 553;
- his official position, ii. 557;
- story of the attempt on his life, ii. 560;
- his measurement by the rope, ii. 563.

Randolf Meschines, Earl of Chester, grant of the earldom of Carlisle to, ii. 549.

Randolf Peverel, ii. 485.

Randolf, his encounter with Saint Eadmund, ii. 269.

Ransom, growth of the custom, i. 464.

Rapes, in Sussex, origin of the name, ii. 564.

Raymond, Count of Toulouse, refuses to do homage to Alexios, i. 564 (note).

Redemption of land,

- as devised by Flambard, i. 337;

- as reformed by Henry I., i. 338, 353.

Reginald, Abbot of Abingdon,

- said to have helped in distributing the Conqueror’s treasure, ii. 265 (note);

- his death, ii. 265 (note), 381 (note).

Reginald of Saint Evroul, adorns Robert of Rhuddlan’s tomb, i. 128.

Reginald of Warren, comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249, 253.

Reingar, Bishop of Lucca, his protest in favour of Anselm, i. 622.

Relief,

- Flambard’s theory as to, i. 337, 338;

- enforced by Henry’s charter, i. 338, ii. 353.

Remigius, Bishop of Lincoln,

- denounces the slave trade, i. 310;
- completes the minster, ib.;
- his dispute with Thomas of York, i. 311;
- wins over William Rufus, ib.;
- his death, i. 312;

- alleged miracles at his tomb, i. 312 (note);

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Rémusat, Charles de, his Life of Anselm, i. 325 (note).

Rhuddlan,

- attacked by Gruffydd, i. 122;

- castle of, ii. 77.

Rhyd-y-gors Castle,

- built by William Rufus, ii. 97;
- defence of, ii. 101;
- gained by the Welsh, ii. 106.

Rhys ap Tewdwr, King of Deheubarth,

- driven from and restored to his kingdom, i. 121;

- his attack on Rhuddlan Castle, i. 122, ii. 78;

- his defeat and death at Brecknock, ii. 91;

- effect of his death, ii. 92.

Rhys ap Thomas, Sir, ii. 95 (note).

Richard I., compared with William Rufus, i. 290.

Richard II., recasts Westminster Hall, ii. 262.

Richard the Good, Duke of the Normans, i. 169.

Richard, son of Duke Robert, his death, ii. 316.

Richard,

- son of Henry I. and Ansfrida, ii. 314, 380;

- dies in the White Ship, ii. 381.

Richard, Abbot of Saint Alban’s, ii. 166.

Richard, Abbot of Ely,

- his appointment, ii. 360;

- removed by Anselm, ib.

Richard of Courcy,

- besieged by Duke Robert and Robert of Bellême, i. 274;

- supports William Rufus, i. 472.

Richard of Montfort, his death before Conches, i. 266.

Richard of Redvers,

- supports Henry, i. 221;
- surrenders to William Rufus, i. 283;
- joins Henry, i. 320;
- one of Henry’s inner council, ii. 362;
- his loyalty to Henry, ii. 399;
- granted to Henry by Robert, ii. 513.

Richard Siward, ii. 86.

Richard Tisone, ii. 596.

Richer of Laigle, i. 243 (note).

Richera (Richesa), sister of Anselm, his letters to, ii. 579.

Robert, Duke of the Normans,
assertion of his hereditary right, i. 11 (note), ii. 460;
releases Duncan and Wulf, i. 14;
his gifts for his father’s soul, i. 18;
compared with William Rufus, i. 20, 226;
arguments of the rebels in his favour, i. 24 et seq.;
invited to England by Odo, i. 56;
sends over Robert of Bellême and others, ib.;
delays his coming, i. 71, 74;
his childish boasting, i. 71;
his promises to Odo, i. 72;
welcomes Bishop William, i. 117;
M. le Hardy’s apology for him, i. 175 (note);
William of Malmesbury’s estimate of him, ib.;
character of his reign foretold by his father, i. 189;
anarchy under him, i. 190, 191;
his character, i. 190, 298, ii. 393;
spread of vice under him, i. 192;
his lavish waste, i. 195;
sells the Côtentin and Avranchin to Henry, i. 196, ii. 510–516;
imprisons Henry and Robert of Bellême, i. 199;

Earl Roger makes war on him, ib.;

Odo’s exhortation to him, i. 200;
does homage to Fulk of Anjou for Maine, i. 204;

Maine submits to him, i. 209;
Ballon surrenders to him, i. 210;
besieges Saint Cenery, i. 211;
blinds Robert Carrel, i. 216;
grants Saint Cenery to Robert, grandson of Geroy, i. 217;

Alençon and Bellême surrender to him, i. 218;
frees Robert of Bellême and Henry, i. 220;
asks King Philip to help him against William, i. 237;
suspects the loyalty of Maine, ii. 191;
asks help of Fulk of Anjou, ii. 192;
bargains for the marriage of Fulk and Bertrada, ii. 193, 194;

Maine revolts again, ii. 197;
his carelessness as to his loss, ii. 200;
cleaves to his rights over the bishopric, ib.;
marches on Eu, i. 238;
a party in Rouen in his favour, i. 248;

Henry and Robert of Bellême come to his help, ib.;
sent away from Rouen by Henry, i. 255;
is brought back, i. 260;
his treatment of the citizens, ib.;
helps Robert of Bellême in his private wars, i. 273;
his treaty with William, i. 275–281, ii. 522, 528;
marches against Henry, i. 283;
besieges Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 285–292, ii. 528–535;
story of his clemency towards Henry, i. 291, ii. 534;
accompanies William to England, i. 295, 297;
his relations with Malcolm, i. 297, ii. 541 et seq.;
mediates between William and Malcolm, i. 301;
former homage of Malcolm to him, i. 302, ii. 542;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
his fresh dispute with William, i. 306;
leaves England, i. 307;
Henry wars against him, i. 321;
consents to Anselm’s acceptance of the primacy, i. 406;
his challenges to William, i. 435, 436;
his meeting with him, i. 461;
calls on Philip for help, i. 463;
takes La Houlme, i. 465;
besieges Montacute, i. 469 (note);
Henry again wars against him, i. 470;
his eagerness to go on the crusade, i. 552;
forced to apply to William for help, i. 553;

Abbot Geronto mediates between them, i. 553–555;
pledges Normandy to William, i. 555, ii. 506;
his conference with William, i. 559;
sets forth, i. 560;
his conduct as a crusader, i. 560, 564, 565, 566, ii. 394;
blessed by Urban at Lucca, i. 561;
goes to Rome, ib.;
welcomed by Roger of Apulia, ib.;
crosses to Dyrrhachion, i. 563;
does homage to Alexios at Constantinople, i. 564;
his presence at Laodikeia and Jerusalem, i. 564, 565, ii. 300;
said to have refused the crown of Jerusalem, i. 566;
marries Sibyl of Conversana, ii. 312;
his reception in Southern Italy, ib.;
returns to Normandy, i. 566, ii. 311, 367;
gives thanks at Saint Michael’s for his safe return, ii. 367;
his renewed misgovernment, ii. 367, 394;
his claims to the English throne, ii. 343, 344, 346;
supported by William of Breteuil and other Normans, ii. 346, 347;

Norman nobles intrigue with, against Henry I., ii. 366, 368;
beginning of his war with Henry, ii. 368;
his reply to the garrison of Le Mans, ii. 372;
plots on his behalf, ii. 395;
his grants and promises, ib.;
his fleet, ii. 402;
desertions to, ii. 404, 409, 686;
lands at Portchester, ii. 405;
estimate of his conduct in not besieging Winchester, ii. 406;
meets Henry near Alton, ii. 409;
threatened with excommunication by Anselm, ii. 410;
negotiates with him, ii. 412;
personal meeting and treaty between the brothers, ii. 412–415, 538, 688–691;
returns to Normandy, ii. 414;

Henry negotiates with him, against Robert of Bellême, ii. 426;
besieges Vignats, ib.;
said to have stood godfather to Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 602.

Robert, Bishop of Hereford,

- foretells the death of Remigius, i. 312;
- receives Wulfstan’s confession, i. 479;
- Wulfstan appears to him, i. 480;

- absolved by Anselm for his conduct at Rockingham, i. 533;

- Wulfstan appears to him again, ib. and note;

- his death, i. 535.

Robert Bloet, Bishop of Lincoln,

- accompanies William Rufus to England, i. 13;

- his appointment, i. 395, ii. 584;

- his character and offices, i. 395, 447, ii. 584 et seq.;

- Thomas of York claims the right to consecrate him, i. 433;

- consecrated by Anselm, i. 445–447;
- bribes Rufus, i. 446;
- his death, i. 448, ii. 587;
- local legends about, i. 448, ii. 586;
- said to have besieged Tickhill, ii. 431;
- signs the Durham charter, ii. 536;
- not in good favour with monks, ii. 585;
- his son Simon, ii. 586;
- meaning of his name, ii. 588.

Robert, Bishop of Bath, restores the canons of Wells, ii. 487.

Robert Losinga, Abbot of New Minster,

- the abbey bought for him by his son, i. 355;

- his death, ii. 265 (note), 267.

Robert, Abbot of Saint Eadmund’s,

- his appointment, ii. 359;

- removed by Anselm, ii. 360.

Robert of Bellême,
sent over to England by Duke Robert, i. 57, ii. 465 et seq.;
agrees to surrender Rochester, i. 80;
pleadings made for him, i. 84;
his history and greatness, i. 179, 180;
his character, i. 181;
his cruelty and enmities, i. 182–184, ii. 151, 222;
drives out the ducal garrisons, i. 193, 201;
sent against Rufus by Robert, i. 57;
returns to Normandy and is imprisoned, i. 199, 219;
exhortation of Odo against him, i. 201;
released at his father’s prayer, i. 219, 220;
his subsequent action, i. 242;
drives away Abbot Ralph of Seez, i. 184, 242;
comes to the help of Duke Robert, i. 248;
helped by Robert against his neighbours, i. 273, 274;
his oppression at Domfront, i. 319;
succeeds to the Norman estates of his father, i. 180, 473;
to his English estates, i. 180, ii. 148;
men of Domfront revolt against, i. 319;
his action in Wales, ii. 113;
extent of his estates, ii. 148, 163;
his position on the continent and in England, ii. 149, 150;
compared with the Counts of Mortain, ii. 149, and with Hugh of Chester, ii. 150;
his oppression, ii. 151;
his skill in castle-building, ib.;
his defences in Shropshire, ii. 152;
removes from Quatford to Bridgenorth, ii. 155;
builds Careghova Castle, ii. 158;
his Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire estates, ii. 159;
lands of Roger of Bully granted to, ii. 162;
strengthens Gisors Castle, ii. 187;
attacks Maine, ii. 213;
stirs up William Rufus to war, ii. 215;
carries it on, ii. 216;
his nickname of “Robert the Devil,” ii. 216, 219;
his castles in Maine, ii. 216;
wrong and sacrilege done by him, ii. 221, 222;
defeated by Helias, ii. 222, 223;
takes Helias prisoner, ii. 224;
contrasted with William Rufus, ib.;
occupies and strengthens Ballon Castle, ii. 235, 282;
story of him at the siege of Mayet, ii. 291;
hastens to acknowledge Henry I. as king, ii. 362;
calls himself the “man” of Helias, ii. 373 (note);
plots against Henry, ii. 395;
Duke Robert’s grants to, ib.;
deserts from Henry, ii. 409;
said to have negotiated between Henry and Robert, ii. 412;
charges brought against, ii. 421;
does not appear before the assembly, ib.;
proclamation against, ii. 442;
again summoned, but refuses to come, ib.;
greatness of his possessions, ii. 423;
his acquisition of Ponthieu, ib.;
his Welsh and Irish allies, ii. 423–426;
strengthens his castles, ii. 428;
harries Staffordshire, ii. 429;

Henry’s faith pledged for his life, ii. 430, 438;
seizes the land of William Pantulf, ii. 434;
feeling in the army on his behalf, ii. 436;
his dealings wth Murtagh and with Magnus, ii. 442;
holds out at Shrewsbury, ii. 445;
his despair, ii. 446;
sues for peace, and submits, ii. 448;
his banishment, ii. 449;
joy at his overthrow, ib.;
his later history, i. 184, ii. 450.

Robert Carrel,

- holds Saint Cenery against Duke Robert, i. 215;

- blinded by him, i. 216.

Robert of Conteville, i. 115.

Robert the Cornard, his device of pointed shoes, i. 159, ii. 502.

Robert of Courcy,

- marries Rohesia of Grantmesnil, i. 273 (note);

- wounded at Saônes, ii. 222.

Robert of Curzon, Saint Eadmund’s dealings with, ii. 269.

Robert the Dispenser,

- signs the foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral, i. 309 (note);

- invents the surname Flambard, i. 309 (note), 331.

Robert Count of Eu, submits to Rufus, i. 229.

Robert Fitz-hamon,

- his loyalty to William Rufus, i. 62;

- Matilda’s lands granted to, by Rufus, i. 198;

- his foundation at Tewkesbury, i. 479;
- story of him and Jestin, ii. 80;
- estimate of the story, ii. 81, 614;

- his conquest of Glamorgan and settlement at Cardiff, ii. 81, 84;

- other notices of, ii. 82;

- marries Earl Roger’s daughter, ii. 83;

- his works at Gloucester and Tewkesbury, ii. 84;

- said to have taken part against Rhys, ii. 91;

- tells the monk’s dream to William Rufus, ii. 328;

- legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338, 676;

- signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366;

- his loyalty to him, ii. 399;

- said to have negotiated between Henry and Robert, ii. 412.

Robert Fitzharding, his probable origin, i. 46 (note).

Robert the Frisian, Count of Flanders,

- his interview with William Rufus, i. 411;
- his expedition to the East, ib.;
- his help to the Emperor Alexios, ib.;
- his death, ib.

Robert of Jerusalem, Count of Flanders,

- succeeds his father, i. 412;
- goes on the first crusade, i. 551, 560;
- Anselm’s letter to, ii. 581.

Robert, Earl of Gloucester,

- natural son of Henry I., ii. 379, 414;

- marries Mabel, daughter of Robert Fitz-hamon, ii. 83.

Robert, natural son of Henry I. and Nest, ii. 379.

Robert Malet, his banishment, ii. 417.

Robert, Count of Meulan,

- son of Roger of Beaumont, i. 184;
- his possessions, i. 185;
- his exploits at Senlac, ib.;
- his fame for wisdom, ib.;
- claims Ivry, i. 243;
- his imprisonment and release, ib.;

- advises Rufus as to Anselm’s conditions, i. 417;

- supports William Rufus, i. 472;

- his description of Anselm, i. 511;

- marries Isabel of Vermandois, i. 187 (note), 551;

- his marriage denounced by Bishop Ivo of Chartres, i. 551 (note);

- his answer to Anselm’s discourse, i. 591;

- his policy towards William Rufus, ii. 182, 184;

- receives his troops, ii. 182;

- counsels William Rufus to reject Helias’s offer of service, ii. 243, 641;

- accompanies Henry to London, ii. 350, 680;

- one of his councillors, i. 186, ii. 350, 362, 420;

- does not sign Henry’s charter or letter to Anselm, ii. 366;

- Norman raid against his lands, ii. 367;

- his advice to Henry I., ii. 400;

- his bargain with Ivo of Grantmesnil, ii. 418;

- becomes Earl of Leicester, ii. 419;
- his death, i. 187, 419;
- his sons, ib.;
- his college at Leicester, ii. 420;
- Anselm’s letters to him, ii. 580.

Robert, Earl of Leicester,

- son of Robert of Meulan, i. 187, ii. 419;

- founds Leicester Abbey, ii. 420.

Robert of Montfort,

- repairs and holds Vaux-en-Belin for William Rufus, ii. 289;

- his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;

- his treason to Duke Robert, ii. 427.

Robert, Count of Mortain,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 33, ii. 470;

- holds Pevensey against him, i. 53, 62;

- exhorted by Odo to hold out, i. 70;

- besieged by William Rufus in Pevensey, i. 73, 76;

- surrenders, i. 76.

Robert of Mowbray, Earl of Northumberland,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 35;

- burns Bath, i. 41;

- besieges Ilchester without success, i. 42, 44;

- drives back Malcolm, i. 297;

- his expedition against him, ii. 16, 592;

- grants Tynemouth to Saint Alban’s, ii. 19, 605;

- grounds for his conspiracy, ii. 37, 40;

- marries Matilda of Laigle, ii. 38;

- his second revolt against William Rufus, ii. 38, 43;

- plunders Norwegian ships, ii. 40;
- refuses redress, ii. 41;
- summoned to the king’s court, ib.;
- demands a safe-conduct, ii. 42;
- his open rebellion, ii. 42, 43;

- defence and sieges of his fortresses, ii. 46;

- holds Bamburgh against Rufus, ii. 50, 607;
- his alleged despair, ii. 51;
- his escape from Bamburgh, ii. 52, 609;

- said to have been taken at Tynemouth, ii. 53, 610;

- threatened with blinding, ii. 54, 610;

- versions of his later history, ii. 54, 611.

Robert of Neville,

- one of the defenders of Bridgenorth, ii. 433;

- his negotiations with Henry I., ii. 440, 443.

Robert of Pontefract,

- plots against Henry I., ii. 395;

- his banishment, ii. 417.

Robert, Marquess of Rhuddlan,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;

- attack made on his lands by Gruffydd, i. 122, 124;

- his probable change of party, i. 123;
- returns to North Wales, ib.;
- his death at Dwyganwy, i. 126;
- buried at Chester, i. 127;
- his gifts to Chester, i. 127 (note);
- his connexion with Saint Evroul, ib.;
- translated thither, i. 128;
- Orderic’s epitaph on, ib.;
- his lands in North Wales, ii. 77;
- extension of his possessions, ii. 78.

Robert of Saint Alban’s, his apostasy, ii. 123.

Robert of Torigny, his Chronicle, i. 9 (note).

Robert of Veci, first lord of Alnwick, ii. 596.

Robert, son of Corbet,

- one of the defenders of Bridgenorth, ii. 432;

- notices of his estates in Domesday, ii. 433 (note);

- his negotiations with Henry I., ii. 440, 443.

Robert,

- son of Godwine, ii. 117 (note), 118;
- his exploits in Scotland, ii. 118, 617;
- King Eadgar’s gifts to, ii. 121;

- attacked and imprisoned by Randolf Flambard, ib.;

- goes on the crusade, ii. 122, 617;

- his exploits and martyrdom, ib.;

- modern parallels and contrasts with, ii. 123;

- notices of, in Fordun and William of Malmesbury, ii. 616, 617.

Robert, son of Harding, i. 45 (note).

Robert, son of Hugh of Montfort, sent to occupy the fortresses of Le Mans, ii. 239.

Robert, son of Nigel and Gundrada, founder of Byland Abbey, ii. 612.

Robert, son of Geroy, his rebellion and death, i. 214.

Robert, grandson of Geroy,

- Saint Cenery granted to, i. 217;

- loses the castle, i. 469;

- Henry Ætheling comes to his help against Robert of Bellême, ib.

Robertson, E. W., on Malcolm’s homage to William Rufus, ii. 540.

Roche Guyon, La, castle of, ii. 180, 181.

Rochester,

- its early history and position, i. 53, 54;
- later sieges of, i. 53;
- occupied by Odo, i. 55;

- the garrison refuse to surrender to William Rufus, i. 77;

- siege of, i. 79–85;

- surrenders, i. 85;

- benefactions of Rufus to the church, ii. 506.

Rockingham,

- Council of (1095), i. 487 et seq.;

- position and history of the place, i. 489, 490;

- the castle, i. 490;
- importance of the council, i. 519;
- its constitution, i. 602.

Roger, Count of Sicily,

- legatine power granted to, i. 525 (note);
- marriage of his daughter, i. 526;
- besieges Amalfi, i. 561, and Capua, i. 614;

- forbids conversions of the Saracens, i. 161, 617;

- contrasted with Henry I., ii. 454.

Roger, Duke of Apulia,

- welcomes Duke Robert, i. 561;
- besieges Amalfi, i. 562;
- besieges Capua, i. 614;

- receives Urban and Anselm in his camp, i. 615.

Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, possibly one of Henry’s inner council, ii. 363.

Roger, Abbot of Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 284.

Roger of Beaumont,

- father of Robert of Meulan, i. 184;
- Brionne granted to, by Duke Robert, i. 194;
- obtains the release of his son, i. 243;
- his death, i. 472.

Roger Bigod,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;

- his ravages, i. 36;

- his action at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 98;

- signs Henry’s charter, ii. 358;

- his loyalty to Henry, ii. 399;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Roger of Bully,

- greatness of his estates, ii. 159, 161;
- founds the priory of Blyth, ii. 161;
- his death, ii. 162;
- his lands granted to Robert of Bellême, ib.

Roger of Clare, with William Rufus in the New Forest, ii. 321.

Roger of Lacy,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 33;
- seizes on Hereford, i. 46;
- his second rebellion, ii. 39;
- his trial and sentence, ii. 63.

Roger of Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 33, ii. 470;

- his action in the rebellion, i. 47, 57;

- his alleged presence before Worcester, ii. 481;

- at Arundel, i. 58;

- founds the priory of Saint Nicolas at Arundel, i. 59 (note);

- won over by William, i. 61, ii. 462;

- his action at the siege of Rochester, i. 80;

- makes war on Duke Robert, i. 199;
- his fortresses, i. 200;
- obtains his son’s release, i. 219;
- his advance in Powys, ii. 97;
- his death, i. 473;
- his buildings at Quatford, ii. 154;
- his foundation at Wenlock, ib.;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Roger of Mowbray, son of Nigel and Gundrada, ii. 612.

Roger of Poitou, son of Earl Roger,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 57;
- his agreement with Bishop William, i. 93;
- intervenes on his behalf, i. 109, 117, 120;
- holds Argentan for William Rufus, i. 463;
- surrenders to Robert, i. 464;
- plots against Henry I., ii. 395;

- his share in the rebellion of Robert of Bellême, ii. 423;

- his banishment, ii. 450.

Roger of Toesny, son of Ralph and Isabel,

- county of Evreux settled on, i. 268;
- his character, ib.;
- his dream, i. 269;
- his death, i. 270.

Roger, son of Corbet, notices of, in Domesday, ii. 433 (note).

Rohais, wife of Richard of Clare, ii. 572.

Rohesia, daughter of Hugh of Grantmesnil, marries Robert of Courcy, i. 273 (note).

Romania, use of the word, i. 564 (note).

Rome,

- Pope Urban on the unhealthiness of, i. 367 (note);

- treatment of Duke Robert at, i. 561.

Rope, measurement by, i. 68 (note), ii. 562, 564.

Rosella, daughter of Eadwine, ii. 603.

Rotrou of Montfort,

- Orderic’s tale of his forsaking Saint Cenery, i. 469 (note);

- truce granted to, by Rufus, ii. 230;

- estimate of his conduct, ii. 231.

Rotrou, Count of Perche,

- goes on the first crusade, i. 551;

- imprisoned in the castle of Le Mans, ii. 373;

- his mother gives the kiss of peace to Bishop Hildebert, ii. 373 (note).

Rouen,

- municipal spirit in, i. 246;
- the citizens favour William Rufus, i. 247;
- Henry comes to Robert’s help at, i. 248;

- its position in the eleventh century, i. 250;

- ducal castles at, ib.;
- cathedral and other churches of, i. 252;
- its gates and suburbs, i. 252, 253;
- Robert sent away from, i. 255;
- taken by Henry, i. 256;
- treatment of the citizens, i. 260;
- council held by William Rufus at, ii. 226.

Rouen,

- synod of, i. 568;

- small results of, i. 569.

Rualedus, story of his treatment by Henry, ii. 540.

Ruislip, Middlesex, said to have been a cell of Bec, i. 376 (note).

S.

Saer, holds Pembroke Castle, ii. 451.

Saint Alban’s,

- Jews at, i. 160 (note);

- the abbey granted to the see of Canterbury, i. 423;

- four years’ vacancy of, i. 424;
- grant of Tynemouth to, ii. 18, 605;
- Flambard’s dealings with, ii. 359 (note).

Saint Augustine’s, Canterbury,

- disturbances at, on Guy’s appointment, i. 139;

- vengeance of William Rufus on, i. 140.

Saint Cenery, his relics, i. 213 (note).

Saint Cenery-le-Gerey,

- castle besieged by Duke Robert, i. 211, 215;

- the former monastery, i. 212;
- foundation of the castle, i. 214;
- seized by Mabel, i. 215;
- surrenders to Robert, ib.;
- mutilation of its defenders, i. 216;

- granted to Robert, grandson of Geroy, i. 217;

- taken by Robert of Bellême, i. 469.

Saint David’s,

- robbed by pirates, ii. 78;

- tale of William Rufus’s visit to, ii. 93.

Saint Eadmundsbury,

- Jews at, i. 160 (note);

- church of, rebuilt by Abbot Baldwin, ii. 268;

- William Rufus forbids the dedication, ii. 269.

Saint Evroul,

- connexion of Robert of Rhuddlan with, i. 127;

- his translation to, i. 128;

- burial of Hugh of Grantmesnil at, i. 473.

Saint Gervase, Rouen, priory of, i. 252.

Saint James,

- castle of, occupied by Henry, i. 321;
- position and remains of, i. 321, 322;
- granted to Earl Hugh, i. 323, ii. 540.

Saint Julian, translation of his body, ii. 204.

Saint Mary-le-bow, roof of the church blown down, i. 308, ii. 589.

Saint Michael’s Mount,

- bought of Robert by Henry, i. 196;

- cession of, demanded by William Rufus, i. 277, ii. 524;

- buildings on, i. 284;
- Henry besieged at, i. 284–292, ii. 528–535;
- its position, i. 285;
- later sieges of, i. 286;
- surrenders to William, i. 292.

Saint Oswald’s, Worcester, granted to the see of York, i. 447.

Saint Ouen, Rouen, abbey of, i. 252.

Saint Remy-du-plain, castle of, ii. 216, 218.

Saint Saens, its position, i. 235.

Saint Stephen’s, Caen, gifts of Rufus to, i. 168, ii. 504–506.

Saint Tyfrydog, desecration of the church, ii. 131.

Saint Valery,

- submits to Rufus, i. 227;

- historical importance of the fact, i. 228.

Salisbury, assembly at (1096),

- case of William of Saint-Calais heard at, i. 94 et seq.;

- constitutional importance of, ii. 56, 57;
- compared with that of 1086, ii. 58;
- sentences passed at, ii. 62.

Salisbury Cathedral,

- consecration of, i. 308;

- fall of the tower roof, i. 309;

- signatures to the foundation charter, i. 309 (note)

Samson, canon of Bayeux,

- his appointment and consecration to the see of Worcester, i. 542–544;

- his great appetite, i. 543 (note);

- consecrates Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317.

Samson, chaplain to the Conqueror, story of his refusing the bishopric of Le Mans, i. 206.

Samuel, Bishop of Dublin, consecrated by Anselm, i. 544.

Sanctuary, right of, decree of the council of Clermont as to, i. 548 (note).

Sanford (Devonshire), held by Roger of Bully, ii. 160 (note).

Saônes,

- castle of, ii. 216, 218;

- Helias defeats Robert of Bellême at, ii. 222.

Saracens in Sicily,

- compared with the Jews, i. 161;

- Anselm’s dealings with, i. 616;

- conversion of, forbidden by Duke Roger, i. 617;

- in Spain, mentioned in the Chronicle, ii. 306.

Scandinavians,

- in Cumberland, i. 315;

- destroy Carlisle, ib.

Schiavia, Anselm retires to, i. 615.

Scotland, kingdom of,

- becomes English, ii. 5;
- compared with Wales, ii. 6;
- effects of the Cumbrian conquest on, ii. 8;
- Margaret’s reforms in, ii. 23;
- growth of English influence in, ii. 24–26;

- party feeling in, on Malcolm’s death, ii. 28;

- dealings of Magnus with, ii. 147;
- English influence in, under David, ii. 125;
- results of Eadgar’s succession, ii. 304.

Scotland, Abbot of Saint Augustine’s,

- his death, i. 136;

- disturbances consequent on, i. 139.

Seez, enmity of Robert of Bellême to its bishops and abbots, i. 183.

Seit, and others, letter of Anselm to, ii. 577.

Selby Abbey, granted to the see of York, i. 447.

Serlo,

- Bishop of Seez, ii. 521;

- excommunicates Robert of Bellême, i. 184.

Serlo, Abbot of Gloucester,

- visits Wulfstan, i. 479;

- his warning to William Rufus, ii. 318, 329.

Shoes, pointed, i. 158, ii. 502.

Shrewsbury,

- burial of Earl Hugh at, ii. 145;
- Robert of Bellême holds out in, ii. 445;
- castle of, ii. 446;
- Henry I. marches against, ii. 446, 447;
- surrender of, ii. 448, 457;
- Gemóts held at, ii. 452;
- earldom of, ib.

Shropshire, defences of,

- strengthened by Robert of Bellême, ii. 152;

- early history of its fortresses, ib.

Sibyl of Conversana,

- marries Duke Robert of Normandy, ii. 312;
- her character, ib.;
- tales of her death, ii. 312 (note);
- called Edith, ii. 687.

Sibyl, daughter of Henry I., marries Alexander of Scotland, ii. 124.

Sibyl, daughter of Earl Roger, marries Robert Fitz-hamon, ii. 83.

Sicilian monarchy, the, i. 525.

Sicily,

- its relations with England, i. 526;

- under the Normans, ii. 306.

Siegfried, Bishop of Seez, signs the foundation charter of Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.

Signs and wonders, i. 176, ii. 246, 258, 302, 316.

Sigston, church of, granted to the monks of Durham, ii. 535.

Sigurd,

- son of Magnus and Thora, ii. 133;
- earldom of Orkney granted to, ii. 140;
- his kingdom, ii. 146;
- his Irish marriage, ii. 136, 146, 443, 622;
- goes on the crusade, ii. 206.

Sillé, siege of, compared with the deliverance of Worcester, ii. 480.

Simeon, Abbot of Ely, ii. 359.

Simon, son of Robert Bloet, Dean of Lincoln, i. 448, ii. 586.

Simon of Montfort, the elder and the younger, ii. 190, 253, 254.

Simon of Montfort, Earl of Leicester,

- his siege of Rochester, i. 53 (note);

- his ancestry, ii. 253.

Simon of Senlis, Earl of Northampton,

- taken prisoner by Lewis, ii. 190 (note);

- his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358.

Simony, not systematic before Rufus, i. 348.

Siward Barn, signs the Durham charters, i. 305, ii. 536.

Siward the priest, ii. 270 (note).

Slave trade, denounced by Remigius, i. 310.

Solêmes, priory of, ii. 202.

Somerset,

- ravaged by Robert of Mowbray, i. 41, 42;

- bishopric of, removed to Bath, i. 136, ii. 483 et seq.;

- use of the name, ii. 488.

Spain, Saracens in, mentioned in the Chronicle, ii. 306.

Sparsholt, manor of,

- seized by William Rufus, ii. 380;

- recovered by Abbot Faricius, ii. 380 (note);

- notices of, in Domesday, ii. 381 (note).

Stafford, commanded by William Pantulf, ii. 434.

Stars, shooting, notices of, i. 478 (note), ii. 41, 118.

Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, appeals to the charter of Henry I., ii. 358.

Stephen, Abbot of Saint Mary’s, York, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

Stephen, Archdeacon of Romsey, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 578.

Stephen of Aumale,

- submits to Rufus, i. 228;
- one of his Norman supporters, i. 472;
- conspiracy in his favour, ii. 39, 63;
- no ground for his claim, ii. 39.

Stephen of Chartres and Blois,

- goes on the first crusade, i. 551, 560;

- decamps for awhile, i. 566 (note).

Stephen, the Jewish convert, story of, i. 163–165.

Stigand, Bishop of Chichester, his death, i. 135.

Stoke, priory of Clare moved to, i. 376.

Stone, manor of, ii. 507.

Stoppele, church of, granted to Twinham, ii. 555.

Stow, monks of, moved by Robert Bloet to Eynesham, ii. 585, 587.

Streatham, lands of Bec at, i. 376.

Stubbs, William, on the alleged Domesday of Flambard, ii. 562.

Sudereys, disturbances in,

- on the death of Godred Crouan, ii. 137, 138;

- invaded by Magnus, ii. 140.

Sulien, Bishop of Saint David’s, his death, ii. 78.

Summons, effect of the practice of, ii. 58.

Sussex, Earls of, i. 60 (note).

Sutton, church at, granted to Abingdon Abbey, ii. 506.

Swansea Castle, ii. 103.

Swegen, son of Æthelric, ii. 551.

Swegen, King, his overthrow at Gainsburgh compared with the deliverance of Worcester, ii. 480.

Swinecombe, held by Bec, i. 375.

T.

Tancard, Abbot of Jumièges, his appointment, i. 570.

Tenby Castle, ii. 95.

Tewkesbury Abbey,

- founded by Robert Fitz-hamon, i. 479, ii. 84;

- grant of Welsh churches to, ib.

Thames, great tide in the, ii. 302.

Theningmannagemót, the, i. 604.

Theobald of Gisors. See Pagan.

Theobald, the White Knight, helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519.

Thetford, hospital at,

- founded by William Rufus, ii. 506;

- the see moved to Norwich, i. 449, ii. 569.

Thierry, Augustin, on the punishment of the monks of Saint Augustine’s, i. 140 (note).

Thomas of London, Archbishop of Canterbury, case of,

- at Northampton, i. 95;

- general surprise at his appointment, i. 359;

- his case compared with those of Anselm and of William of Saint-Calais, i. 597 et seq.

Thomas of Bayeux, Archbishop of York,

- at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 95, 102;

- claims jurisdiction over Lindesey, i. 311, 433;

- present at Anselm’s consecration, i. 429;
- asserts his metropolitan rights, i. 431;
- compromise agreed to, i. 447;

- at the deathbed of William of Durham, ii. 61;

- not present at the coronation of Henry I., ii. 350 (note), 681;

- his death, ii. 391;

- his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536;

- his alleged coronation of Henry, ii. 682.

Thomas,

- son of Flambard, ii. 552;

- his appointment to the see of Lisieux, ii. 416.

Thora, mother of Sigurd, ii. 133.

Thurstan, Abbot of Glastonbury, restored by William Rufus, i. 135.

Tiberius, Emperor, William Rufus compared to, i. 148.

Tiberius, Legate, ii. 488.

Tickhill (Dadesley) Castle, ii. 160;

- name used indiscriminately with Blyth, ii. 162;

- surrenders to Henry I., ii. 431;

- its later history, ii. 432.

Tinchebrai, English feeling about the battle, ii. 402.

Toledo, taking of, ii. 306.

Tooting, lands of Bec at, i. 376.

Tostig, his works at Tynemouth, ii. 18, 604.

Touques,

- William Rufus sets sail from, i. 13;
- his voyage to, ii. 284;
- its present appearance, ib.

Toustain, manor of Sparsholt granted to, ii. 380.

Tower of London,

- surrounded by a wall, i. 261;

- first recorded case of its use as a state prison, ii. 361.

Tréport, Robert’s fleet at, ii. 402.

Trondhjem, Saint Olaf’s body translated to, ii. 139.

Truce of God,

- confirmed by the synod of Rouen, i. 568;

- observed by William Rufus, ii. 290.

Trye, castle of, ii. 188.

Tunbridge Castle,

- holds out against William Rufus, i. 53;
- its position, i. 68;
- not in Domesday, i. 68 (note);

- granted to Richard of Clare in exchange for Brionne, ib.;

- taken by William Rufus, i. 69.

Turgot, Prior of Durham and Bishop of Saint Andrews,

- favourably received by William Rufus, i. 298;

- joins in laying the foundation stone of Durham Abbey, ii. 11;

- appointed to the see of Saint Andrews, ii. 124;

- as to the writings attributed to him, ii. 596.

Turold, Bishop of Bayeux, his appointment, i. 571.

Turold, Abbot of Peterborough, his death, ii. 267.

Twinham,

- connexion of Randolf Flambard with, ii. 553;

- church of, ii. 554;

- Earl Godwine a benefactor of, ii. 555.

Tynemouth,

- Malcolm’s burial at, ii. 17;
- history of, ii. 17–19, 602 et seq.;
- besieged by William Rufus, ii. 47, 606;
- description of, ii. 48, 606;
- taking of, ii. 48, 607;

- alleged escape of Robert of Mowbray to, ii. 53, 609.

U.

- Uhtred, brother of Morkere, ii. 605.

- Uhtred, son of Edwin, besieges Pembroke, ii. 108.

- Uhtred, son of Fergus, ii. 551.

- Ulf, son of Harold and Eadgyth, ii. 134, 135.

- Urban II., Pope,

- advises Anselm against going to Rome, i. 367 (note);

- English feeling as to his claim to the papacy, i. 415;

- Anselm claims to acknowledge him, i. 416;
- the question left unsettled, i. 424;
- his correspondence with Wulfstan, i. 479;

- his acknowledgement insisted on by Anselm, i. 486;

- position of the rival Popes, i. 488;

- no real objection on William’s part to acknowledge him, i. 489;

- holds a Council at Piacenza, i. 522, 545;
- mission of William Rufus to him, i. 524;
- received at Cremona by Conrad, i. 525;
- acknowledged by Rufus, i. 528;
- holds the Council of Clermont, i. 545–547;
- preaches the crusades, i. 549;

- sends Abbot Jeronto on a mission to William Rufus, i. 553, ii. 588;

- bribed by William, i. 554;

- sends his nephew, ib.;

- blesses Duke Robert and his companions, i. 561;

- his reception and treatment of Anselm, i. 607, 608, 621;

- in Roger’s camp at Capua, i. 615;

- Eadmer’s way of speaking of him, i. 616 (note);

- forbids Anselm to resign, i. 617;

- holds the Council of Bari, i. 608, 618;

- his dealings with William of Warelwast, i. 619, 620;

- threatens William Rufus with excommunication, i. 619;

- is bribed to give him a respite, i. 620;
- his treatment of Anselm, i. 621;
- holds the Lateran Council, i. 607, 621;
- his death, i. 622, ii. 300, 311;
- Anselm’s letters to him, i. 612, ii. 582.

- Urse of Abetot, Sheriff of Gloucester and Worcester, at the trial of William of Saint-Calais, i. 94.

V.

- Vacancies, ecclesiastical,

- policy of William Rufus with regard to, i. 135, 336, 337, 347, 348, ii. 564;

- older practice as to, i. 350;

- later instances, i. 351 (note);

- provision of Henry’s charter with regard to, ii. 353.

- Vaux-en-Belin,

- castle of, ii. 277 (note);

- burnt by Helias, ii. 288;

- repaired and held by Robert of Montfort, ii. 289.

- Vescy, house of, ii. 15.

- Vestments, Lanfranc’s view of, i. 95.

- Vetheuil, fortress of, ii. 181.

- Vexin, the French,

- granted to Lewis by Philip, ii. 175;
- its cession demanded by William Rufus, ib.;
- national feeling in, ii. 189.

- Victor III., Pope, i. 415.

- Vignats,

- siege of, ii. 426;

- foundation of the abbey, ii. 427.

- Vulgrin, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 634.

W.

Wace, his use of the words “Normans and English,” ii. 649.

Walchelm, priest, his vision, ii. 521.

Waleran, Count of Meulan, i. 186, ii. 419.

Wales,

- civil wars in, i. 121;

- alleged campaign of William Rufus in (1094–1095), i. 476;

- type of conquest in, ii. 6;
- disunion in, ii. 6, 99;
- nature of Rufus’s wars in, ii. 69 et seq.;

- effect of castle-building in, ii. 70, 76, 77, 108;

- campaigns of Harold compared with those of Rufus, ii. 71;

- its conquest compared with the English and Norman Conquests, ii. 72;

- various elements in, ii. 74;
- local nomenclature of, ii. 75;
- earlier wars in, ii. 77–79;
- beginning of the conquest, ii. 79;
- revolt in, ii. 99, 100;
- general deliverance of, ii. 101;

- first campaign of William Rufus in, ii. 105;

- English feeling as to the war, ii. 106;

- his second and third campaigns, i. 572, 583, ii. 110, 111.

Wales, North, subdued by Hugh of Chester, ii. 146.

Wales, South, Saxon settlements in, ii. 88.

Walkelin, Bishop of Winchester,

- sent with a summons to William of Saint-Calais, i. 117;

- sent to punish the monks of Saint Augustine’s, i. 139;

- assists Osmund to consecrate Salisbury cathedral, i. 309;

- at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;

- his speech to Anselm at the Winchester assembly, i. 586;

- at the death-bed of William of Saint-Calais, ii. 61;

- his character and acts, ii. 266;
- joint regent with Flambard, ib.;
- William Rufus demands money of, ii. 267;
- his death, i. 351, ii. 265, 267;

- legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338.

Wall, Roman, traces of the name, ii. 47.

Walker (Wallcar), ii. 47 (note).

Wallknoll, ii. 47, 613.

Wallsend, i. 47.

Walter of Corbeuil, Archbishop of Canterbury, his works at Rochester, i. 53, 54 (note).

Walter, Bishop of Albano,

- received by William Rufus as Papal Legate, i. 527, ii. 391;

- brings the pallium, i. 527;
- refuses to depose Anselm, i. 528;
- gives the pallium to Anselm, i. 534;
- stays in England, i. 535;
- objects of his mission, i. 536;

- his letters to Anselm, i. 536, 538, ii. 41, 571;

- accompanies William Rufus to Nottingham, ii. 44.

Walter of Eyncourt, i. 113.

Walter Giffard, Earl of Buckingham,

- submits to Rufus, i. 231;
- supports Rufus against Robert, i. 472;
- signs Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
- plots against him, ii. 395;
- his death, i. 473.

Walter Tirel,

- entertains Anselm, i. 380 (note), ii. 322;

- his friendship with William Rufus, ii. 321, 322;

- his parentage, ii. 322, 672;

- his lordships and marriage, ii. 321, 322, 673;

- his alleged share in the making of the New Forest, ii. 322, 674;

- his discourse with the King, ii. 322–325, 661;

- mentioned in most versions as his slayer, ii. 325;

- his solemn denial of the charge, ii. 326, 674;

- no ground for the charge, ii. 657;

- whether the Walter Tirel of Domesday, ii. 673;

- legend about the shoeing of his horse, ii. 676.

Walter of Saint Valery, i. 228 (note);

- goes on the first crusade, i. 551.

Walter, son of Ansgar,

- in command at Le Mans, ii. 241, 370;
- sets fire to Le Mans, ii. 280;
- confers with Helias, ii. 371.

Waltham, church of, plundered by Rufus, i. 168, ii. 505, 506.

Waltheof, Earl of Northampton and Huntingdonshire, grants Tynemouth to Jarrow, ii. 18, 604.

War, private, unlawful in England, ii. 417.

Wardship, the lord’s right of,

- established by Flambard, i. 336, 339;
- oppressive working of, i. 338;
- peculiar to England and Normandy, i. 340;
- provision for, in Henry’s charter, ii. 353.

Weedon Beck, Northamptonshire, said to have been a cell of Bec, i. 376 (note).

Wells (Norfolk), grant of, to Saint Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 504.

Wells (Somerset), see of,

- moved to Bath, i. 136, ii. 483;

- dislike of the canons to Bishop John’s changes, i. 138, ii. 486;

- they recover their property under Bishop Robert, ii. 486;

- charter of William Rufus preserved at, ii. 483.

Welsh language, endurance of, ii. 75.

Wenlock, Earl Roger’s foundation at, ii. 154.

Westminster Hall,

- its foundation by William Rufus, ii. 259, 262;

- he holds his Whitsun feast there, ii. 257, 264, 271;

- recast by Richard II., ii. 262.

Westmoreland,

- why not entered in Domesday, i. 313, ii. 547 et seq.;

- entries of, in the Pipe Rolls, ii. 551.

Whithern, see of, ii. 551.

Wido. See Guy.

Wilfrith, Bishop of Saint David’s,

- suspended and restored, i. 534;
- sides with William Rufus, ii. 94;
- Gerald of Windsor’s dealings with, ii. 109.

William the Conqueror,

- his informal nomination of William Rufus, i. 9, 11;

- his advice to him, ii. 461;
- distribution of his treasures, i. 17, 18;
- compared with Rufus by Odo, i. 26;
- his ecclesiastical supremacy, i. 105;
- compared with Rufus, i. 158, 456;

- foretells the character of Robert’s reign, i. 189;

- garrisons the castles of the nobles, i. 192;

- his ecclesiastical position, i. 328;
- his relations with Lanfranc, ib.;
- his friendship with Anselm, i. 380;

- use of his “days” as a note of time, i. 569;

- his visit to Saint David’s and his designs on Ireland, ii. 94.

William Rufus,
character of his reign, i. 3;
feudal developement under him, i. 4;
character of his accession, i. 9–11, 19–21, ii. 459–465;
his informal nomination by his father, i. 9, 11, ii. 461;
not formally elected, i. 9, ii. 459;
sets sail from Touques, i. 13;
re-imprisons Morkere and Wulfnoth, i. 14;
his meeting with Lanfranc, i. 15;
his coronation, ib.;
his special oath, i. 16, ii. 460;
his coronation rites said to have been imperfect, ii. 461;
his distribution of gifts, i. 17;
restores Odo to his earldom, i. 19;
revolt of the Norman nobles against, i. 22 et seq., ii. 465 et seq.;
compared with his father by Odo, i. 26;
seizes the temporalities of William of Saint-Calais, i. 30;
summons him to his court, i. 31;
lays waste his land, i. 32;
wins over Earl Roger, i. 61, ii. 462;
loyalty of the bishops towards him, i. 63;
his appeal and promises to the English, i. 63, 64;
their loyalty to him, i. 64, 65, 66;
their motives for supporting him, i. 65;
accepted as their king, i. 66, 131;
marches against the rebels, i. 67;
takes Tunbridge Castle, i. 69;
marches on Pevensey, i. 72, and takes it, i. 76;
his Niðing Proclamation, i. 78;
besieges Rochester, i. 79;
Odo surrenders to him, i. 80;
at first refuses terms to the besieged, i. 81;
his answer to the pleadings for them, i. 83;
grants terms, i. 85;
his confiscations and grants, i. 88;
his amnesty to the chief rebels, ib.;
again summons William of Saint-Calais, i. 89;
grants him a safe-conduct, i. 91;
refuses him the privileges of his order, i. 92;
holds a meeting at Salisbury, i. 94;
his speeches thereat, i. 98, 107, 110;
his offers to Bishop William, i. 111, 114;
his answer to Ralph Paganel, i. 112;
Durham castle surrendered to, i. 114;
summons Bishop William again, i. 116;
grants him leave to depart, i. 117;
estimate of his behaviour in the case, i. 119, 605;
his breach of his promises, i. 132;
position of the English under, i. 133;
mocks at omens, i. 133 (note);
his employment of mercenaries, i. 134, 153, 226, ii. 496, 498;
early charge of simony against, i. 135;
his charter to John of Tours, i. 138;
suppresses the disturbances at Saint Augustine’s, i. 139;
effects of Lanfranc’s death on him, i. 142, 148, 343;
description and character of, i. 5, 143 et seq., ii. 244, 256, 337, 490 et seq.;
his surname of Rufus, i. 144;
his filial zeal, i. 145;
general charges against him, i. 147;
his lack of steadfastness, i. 149;
his unfinished campaigns, ib.;
his “magnanimity,” i. 149, ii. 497;
trick played on, by his chamberlain, i. 150;
his “liberality,” i. 151, ii. 492;
his extortions, i. 153, ii. 498;
his strict government, i. 153, ii. 496;
his stricter forest laws, i. 155;
dress and manners at his court, i. 158, ii. 500–502;
his special vices, i. 157, 159, ii. 497, 502;
contrasted with his father, i. 158, 456;
his irreligion, i. 159;
favours the Jews, i. 161;
question as to his scepticism, ib.;
makes the Jewish converts apostatize, i. 162, 614, ii. 504;
his dispute with Stephen the convert, i. 163–165, ii. 504;
his blasphemies, i. 165–167, ii. 503;
his favourite oath, i. 108, 112, 164, 289, 391, 511 (note), ii. 61 (note), 503, 650;
redeeming features in his character, i. 168;
his respect for his father’s memory, i. 168, ii. 505;
his ecclesiastical benefactions, ib.;
his chivalry, i. 169–171;
law of honour as practised by, i. 85, 92, 169, 408, ii. 14, 237, 244;
his schemes against Duke Robert, i. 221;
obtains the consent of the Witan to an invasion of Normandy, i. 222–224;
his constitutional language, i. 223;
his policy against Normandy, i. 224;
his position compared with that of Robert, i. 226;
his employment of money, i. 226, 227;
joined by the Norman nobles, i. 228 et seq.;
bribes Philip of France, i. 237, 239;
his position compared with that of his father, i. 240;
result of his dealings with Philip, i. 241;
his treaty with Conan of Rouen, i. 247;
crosses to Normandy, i. 273;
his treaty with Robert, i. 275–279, ii. 522–528;
his probable object in the spoliation of Henry, i. 279;
his policy towards Henry and Eadgar, i. 281;
joins Robert against Henry, i. 283;
besieges Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 285–292, ii. 528–535;
personal anecdotes of, i. 287–292, ii. 497, 532;
compared to Alexander the Great, i. 287;
contrasted with Robert, i. 290;
returns to England, i. 293, 295;
sets forth against Malcolm, i. 298;
his favourable treatment of the monks of Durham, i. 298, ii. 508;

Bishop William reconciled to, i. 299;
meets Malcolm at the Scots’ Water, i. 301;
his treaty with Malcolm, i. 304;
receives the homage of Malcolm, i. 304, ii. 541;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
his fresh dispute with Robert, i. 306;
orders the consecration of Lincoln minster, i. 312;
his conquest and colonization of Carlisle, i. 313–318;
character of the early years of his reign, i. 325;
his relations with Anselm, i. 328;
his policy in keeping the see of Canterbury vacant, i. 328, 359, 360;
influence of Randolf Flambard on him, i. 329, 332 et seq.;
his dealings with vacant bishoprics and abbeys, i. 336, 347, 350, ii. 565;
his dealings with church lands, i. 345 et seq.;
charges of simony brought against, i. 348;
story of his appointment to a vacant abbey, i. 352;
his first interview with Anselm, i. 385;
rebuked by him, i. 386;
refuses him leave to return to Normandy, i. 388;
petitioned by the Witan to appoint an archbishop, i. 389;
his mocking speech about Anselm, i. 390;
his sickness, i. 391;
repents and sends for Anselm, i. 392, 393;
his proclamation of reforms, i. 393;
names Anselm archbishop, i. 396;
prays him to accept the see, i. 398;
invests him by force, i. 400;
orders the restitution of the temporalities, i. 403;
his recovery and relapse, i. 407;
keeps his engagement to Anselm, i. 408;
his interview with Robert of Flanders, i. 411;
with Anselm at Rochester, i. 412 et seq.;
his answer to Anselm’s conditions, i. 417;
asks Anselm to confirm his grants of church lands, i. 418;
renews his promises and receives Anselm’s homage as archbishop, i. 422;
his writ, ib.;
receives Anselm at Gloucester, i. 434;
challenged by Robert, i. 435;
his dealings with the contributions offered for the war, i. 437;
refuses Anselm’s gift, i. 438;
gathers his forces at Hastings, i. 441;
present at the consecration of Battle Abbey, i. 443, 444;
upholds Anselm against Robert Bloet, i. 446;
deprives Herbert Bishop of Thetford, i. 448, ii. 569;
his interview with Anselm at Hastings, i. 450 et seq.;
no synod held under him, i. 452;
his answer to Anselm’s prayer to fill the vacant abbeys, i. 455;
attempts to get more money out of Anselm, i. 458–460;
sets sail for Normandy, i. 460;
vain attempts to settle the dispute between him and Robert, i. 461;
castles held by him, i. 462;
his levy of English soldiers, i. 465;
trick played on them, i. 466;
buys off Philip, ib.;
summons Henry and Earl Hugh to Eu, i. 469;
returns to England and is reconciled to Henry, i. 470;
his Norman supporters, i. 471–474;
causes for his return, i. 474;
his alleged Welsh campaign in 1094–1095, i. 476;
refuses Anselm leave to go for the pallium, i. 483, 484;
will acknowledge no Pope, i. 484;
frequency of assemblies under him, i. 487;
summons an assembly at Rockingham, i. 487–519;
estimate of his conduct in this dispute, i. 488;
his Imperial claims, i. 503;
bids the bishops renounce Anselm, i. 512;
withdraws his protection from him, ib.;
his appeal to the lay lords, i. 513;
his examination and treatment of the bishops, i. 515, 516;
summons Anselm before him, i. 517;
adjourns the assembly, i. 518;
oppresses Anselm’s friends, i. 520;
his fresh schemes against him, i. 523;
his mission to Urban, i. 524–526;
Walter of Albano’s mission to, i. 527;
acknowledges Urban, i. 528;
forced to be reconciled to Anselm, i. 529, 531;

Anselm refuses the pallium at his hands, i. 532;
his position as regards the crusade, i. 553;
Abbot Jeronto’s mission to him, ib.;
Normandy pledged to him, by Robert, i. 555;
his taxation for the pledge-money, i. 556–559, ii. 506;
his conference with Robert, i. 559, ii. 207;
takes possession of Normandy, i. 566, ii. 207;
his grants to Henry, i. 567;
his rule in Normandy, i. 567–570;
his appointments to Norman prelacies, i. 570;
returns to England, i. 571;
his expeditions against Wales, i. 572, 583, ii. 69 et seq.;
complains of Anselm’s contingent, i. 572;
summons him to his court, i. 574;
refuses him leave to go to Rome, i. 582, 583, 584;
holds an assembly at Winchester, i. 584 et seq.;
his conditional leave to Anselm, i. 592;
his last interview with Anselm, i. 593;
blessed by him, i. 594;
seizes on the estates of his see, i. 595;
estimate of his behaviour towards William of Saint-Calais and towards Anselm, i. 605;

Anselm pleads against his excommunication, i. 611, 618;
probable effect of an excommunication, i. 611, 612;

Anselm’s and Urban’s letters to, i. 613;
his mission to Urban, i. 613, 619;
threatened with excommunication, i. 619;
bribes Urban, i. 620;
his words on Urban’s death and Paschal’s election, i. 623, ii. 311;
growth of the English power and nation under, ii. 4;
effects of his reign on the union of Britain, ii. 6;
complaints made against, by Malcolm, ii. 8;
sends Eadgar to invite him to Gloucester, ii. 9, 590;
refuses to see him, ii. 13, 590;
dispute between them, ib.;
his probable pretensions, ib.;
observes his safe-conduct, ii. 14, 591;
story of him and Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 31, 600;
grants the Scottish crown to Duncan, ii. 34;
revolt of Robert of Mowbray against him, ii. 37 et seq.;
orders Robert to make good his plunder of the merchants, ii. 41;
summons him to his court, ib.;
refuses him a safe-conduct, i. 42;
marches against him, i. 537, ii. 43;
takes Newcastle, ii. 47,

- and Tynemouth, ii. 48, 606;

besieges Bamburgh, ii. 50, 607;
makes the Malvoisin tower, ii. 51, 608;
leaves Bamburgh, ii. 52, 609;
holds an assembly at Salisbury, ii. 56;
refuses to spare William of Alderi, ii. 67;
nature of his Welsh wars, ii. 69 et seq.;
builds castles in Wales, ii. 70, 112;
his campaign compared with that of Harold, ii. 71, 105;
his alleged designs on Ireland, ii. 93;
his first Welsh campaign, ii. 105;
his second and third campaigns, i. 572, 583, ii. 110, 111;
his relations with Eadgar Ætheling, ii. 114;
doubtful policy of his grant to Robert of Bellême, ii. 148, 162;
character of his last years, ii. 163;
his designs on France, ii. 167;
demands the cession of the Vexin, ii. 175;
crosses to Normandy, ii. 167, 176;
excesses of his followers in England, ii. 176;
chief men on his side, ii. 178;
his treatment of his prisoners, ii. 179, 190;
his prospects, ii. 184;
failure of his plans, ii. 185;
befriends Bishop Howel of Le Mans, ii. 201;
his interview with Helias, ii. 208–210;
delays his attack on him, ii. 210;
his anger at the election of Hildebert, ii. 213, 625;
his designs on Maine, ii. 613;
stirred up to war by Robert of Bellême, ii. 215;
contrasted with him, ii. 224;
his treatment of Helias, ii. 225;
his speech at the council of Rouen, ii. 226;
levies an army, ii. 227;
invades Maine, ii. 229;
grants a truce to Ralph of Fresnay, ii. 230;
his march onwards, ii. 232;
arrives at Le Mans, ii. 233;
ravages Coulaine, ii. 234, 625, 627;
raises the siege of Le Mans, ii. 234;
his treatment of the knight at Ballon, ii. 237;

Le Mans submits to, ii. 239;
his entry, ii. 240;
receives the general submission of Maine, ib.;
his interview with Helias, ii. 242–245, 640–645;
his seeming quotation from Lucan, ii. 642;
sets Helias free, ii. 244, 628, 642, 643;
extent of his conquests in Maine, ii. 245;
invades the Vexin, ii. 246;
besieges Chaumont, ii. 248;
agrees to a truce, ii. 255;
ill-success of his French war, ib.;
his gemóts in 1099, ii. 257;
his architectural works a national grievance, ii. 257–260;
legal position of his reign, ii. 263;
his object in building Westminster Hall, ib.;
holds his Whitsun feast there, ii. 257, 264;
demands money of Bishop Walkelin, ii. 267;
forbids the dedication of Saint Eadmund’s, ii. 269;
hears of the recovery of Le Mans by Helias, ii. 283, 645;
his ride to the coast, ii. 283;
his voyage to Touques, ii. 284, 645–652;
his speech to the sailors compared with that of Julius Cæsar, ii. 497, 647;
his ride to Bonneville, ii. 285, 646;
marches against Le Mans, ii. 287;
passes through it and harries southern Maine, ii. 288;
besieges Mayet, ii. 289–294, 653;
observes the Truce of God, ii. 290;
his narrow escape at Mayet, ii. 293;
raises the siege, ii. 294, 653;
failure of the campaign, ib.;
his treatment of Le Mans, ii. 295;
leaves garrisons and returns to England, ii. 296;

Hildebert reconciled to, ii. 297, 626;
bids Hildebert pull down the towers of Saint Julian’s, ii. 297, 654;
compared with Æthelred, ii. 307;
his schemes of conquest, ii. 307, 311;
contradiction in his character, ii. 308;
his chivalrous feelings, ii. 237;
illustrations of his character, ii. 244, 256;
his dealings with William of Aquitaine, ii. 313;
prepares to occupy Aquitaine, ii. 314;
his alleged designs on the Empire, i. 7, ii. 314;

Abbot Serlo’s warning to, ii. 318, 329;
his alleged dream, ii. 319–321;
his discourse with Walter Tirel, ii. 322–325;
his death, ii. 325;
whether accidental, ii. 325, 657;
various versions thereof, ii. 327, 657–676;
its immediate impression and abiding memory, ii. 335, 336, 663;
his death looked on as a judgement, ii. 665;
contrasted with that of Charles I., ii. 337;
his end and character, ib.;
his alleged penitence, ii. 331, 332, 337;
accounts of his burial, ii. 338–340, 676–680;
his popular excommunication, ii. 340;
portents at his death, ii. 341;
advantage given to the Popes by his reign, ii. 377;
effect of his reign on the fusion of races, ii. 456.

William III., his fearlessness in danger compared with that of William Rufus, ii. 652.

William Ætheling, son of Henry I. and Matilda, ii. 389.

William Clito, son of Robert and Sibyl, ii. 312 (note).

William, natural son of Robert, ii. 316.

William Bona Anima, Archbishop of Rouen,

- consecrates Bishop Howel, i. 208;

- consents to Anselm’s acceptance of the primacy, i. 406;

- said to have married Philip and Bertrada, ii. 172 (note).

William of Saint-Calais, Bishop of Durham,
his influence with William Rufus, i. 23;
his treason against him, i. 28, 30;
different statements of his conduct, i. 28, ii. 469–474;
his alleged services to William, i. 29, 111, ii. 473;
his temporalities seized, i. 30, ii. 470;
his letter to the King, i. 30;
summoned before him, i. 31;
treatment of, by Ralph Paganel, ib.;
evidence against him, i. 35, ii. 470;
again summoned by William, i. 89;
complains of Ralph Paganel, i. 90;
comes with a safe-conduct, i. 91;
asserts his ecclesiastical claims, ib.;
goes back to Durham, i. 92;
further ravaging of his lands, ib.;
his agreement with the Counts Alan and Odo, i. 93;
his conduct at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 95;
denies the authority of the court, i. 96, 97;
formal charge against him, i. 98, ii. 473;
his answer, i. 99;
debates on the charge, i. 101–103;
appeals to Rome, i. 103, 109;
sentence pronounced against him, i. 106;
renews his appeal, ib.;

William demands the surrender of Durham castle, i. 107;
appeals to Alan and Odo, i. 108;
final sentence against, i. 110;
asks for an allowance, ib.;
surety for the ships demanded of him, i. 111;
new charges against, i. 113, 116;
Lanfranc interferes on his behalf, i. 113;
conditions and difficulties about his sailing, i. 114–116;
surrender of Durham castle, i. 114, ii. 472;
Odo and Alan interfere on his behalf, i. 117;
allowed to depart to Normandy, ib.;
importance of the story, i. 117–120;
scarcely noticed by modern historians, ii. 474;
restored to his bishopric, i. 299;
his renewed influence with William, i. 300;
his grant to the church of Durham, i. 305, ii. 535;
advises Rufus as to Anselm’s conditions, i. 417;
at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
assists in the consecration of Robert Bloet, i. 445;
plots against Anselm, i. 497, 500;
aspires to the primacy, i. 501;
his promises to William and speech to Anselm, i. 502;
recommends force, i. 510;
his case compared with those of Anselm and Thomas, i. 597 et seq.;
his rebuilding of his church, ii. 11, 60;
invites Malcolm to the foundation ceremony, ib.;
probably concerned in Robert of Mowbray’s rebellion, ii. 38;
portents foretelling his death, ii. 59;
summoned to take his trial, ii. 60;
his death, i. 478 (note), 542, ii. 61;
debate as to his burying-place, ii. 61;
substitutes monks for canons, ii. 60.

William of Warelwast, Bishop of Exeter,

- his first mission to Urban, i. 524, 525;
- returns with the Legate Walter, i. 526;
- searches Anselm’s luggage at Dover, i. 595;
- his second mission to Urban, i. 613, 619;
- his secret dealings with him, i. 620;
- signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366.

William of Passavant, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 636, 640, 656.

William, Bishop of Thetford, his death, i. 354.

William Giffard, Bishop of Winchester,

- his appointment to the see, ii. 349;
- later notices of, ii. 349, 578;
- his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;

- probably one of Henry’s inner council, ii. 362;

- signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366.

William, Archdeacon of Canterbury, sent to inquire into the matter of Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 384.

William of Alderi, his sentence and death, ii. 66–68.

William of Albini, defends Rochester, i. 53 (note).

William, Duke of Aquitaine,

- helps William Rufus against Lewis, ii. 250, 251;

- seat of war affected by his coming, ii. 250, 252;

- his crusade, ii. 313;

- proposes to pledge his duchy to Rufus, ib.

William of Arques, monk of Molesme, i. 220 (note), 256.

William of Bellême, founds Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.

William of Breteuil,

- son of Earl William Fitz-Osbern, drives out the ducal forces, i. 193;

- Ivry granted to, by Duke Robert, i. 194;

- joins Robert’s expedition into Maine, i. 209;

- his war with Ascelin Goel, i. 243;
- comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249;
- imprisons William son of Ansgar, i. 261;
- marches against Conches, i. 261, 266;
- his imprisonment and ransom, i. 267;

- settles his estates on Roger of Toesny, i. 268;

- his natural children, i. 268 (note);

- maintains Robert’s claim to the throne, ii. 346, 680.

William Capra, ii. 508.

William, son of Robert Count of Eu,

- rebels against William Rufus, i. 33;
- his ravages in Gloucestershire, i. 41, 44;
- submits to William, i. 229;
- suggests an invasion of Normandy, i. 411;
- supports William Rufus, i. 472;
- conspires against him, ii. 39, 44;

- his combat with Geoffrey of Baynard and defeat, ii. 63;

- sentenced to mutilation, ii. 64, 65, 68;

- his faithlessness to his wife, ii. 64.

William, Count of Evreux,

- drives out the ducal forces, i. 193;

- his feud with Ralph of Toesny, i. 231, 233, 245;

- comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249;
- marches against Conches, i. 261, 266;
- makes Roger of Toesny his heir, i. 268;

- his later treaty with Ralph of Toesny, i. 270;

- wars against Robert of Meulan, ib.;

- his bargain about Bertrada’s marriage, ii. 193;

- charged with the government of Le Mans, ii. 241;

- granted to Henry by Robert, ii. 514;

- his banishment and death, i. 270.

William Fitz-Osbern, story of him and Eudo of Rye, ii. 463.

William of London or Londres, his settlement at Kidwelly, ii. 86, 102.

William of Malmesbury, his Gesta Regum and Gesta Pontificum, ii. 492.

William of Mandeville, ii. 397.

William of Moion, his grant of Dunster church, ii. 489.

William of Montfichet, legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338, 676.

William of Montfort, recommended by Anselm as his successor at Bec, ii. 575.

William, Count of Mortain,

- founds Montacute priory, ii. 120;

- his vision of William Rufus, ii. 342;

- doubts as to his loyalty to Henry I., ii. 404;

- his banishment, ii. 453;

- his imprisonment and alleged blinding, ib.

William Pantulf,

- Robert of Bellême’s dealings with, ii. 434;
- joins Henry, ib.;
- commands at Stafford, ib.;
- notices of, in Domesday, ii. 434 (note);
- negotiates with Jorwerth, ii. 439;
- mediates at Bridgenorth, ii. 441.

William Peverel,

- holds La Houlme for William Rufus, i. 463;
- surrenders to Robert, i. 465;
- signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.

William of Pont de l’Arche, ii. 464.

William Talvas, his capture of Geoffrey of Mayenne, i. 214.

William Tisonne, ii. 596.

William of Wacey, taken prisoner by Helias, ii. 222.

William of Warren, Earl of Surrey,

- his loyalty to William Rufus, i. 59;

- receives the earldom of Surrey, i. 60, 62 (note);

- his death and burial at Lewes, i. 62 (note), 76.

William of Warren the younger, Earl of Surrey,

- helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519;
- deserts from Henry I., ii. 409;
- his enmity towards him, ib.;

- his banishment, ii. 416,

- and restoration, ii. 417.

William, son of Ansgar, i. 247;

- his imprisonment and ransom, i. 261.

William, son of Anskill,

- his estates seized by William Rufus, ii. 380;

- his marriage, ii. 381 (note).

William, son of Baldwin,

- builds Rhyd-y-gors castle, ii. 97;
- defends it, ii. 101;
- his death, ii. 106.

William, son of Geroy, rescues Geoffrey of Mayenne from William Talvas, i. 214.

William, grandson of Geroy, poisoned, i. 469 (note).

William, son of Holdegar, ii. 551.

Williams, John, on Jestin ap Gwrgan, ii. 614.

Wills. See Bequest.

Winchcombe, fall of the tower, i. 307.

Winchester,

- wealth of the treasury at, i. 17;
- Jews at, i. 160 (note);
- special gemót at (1093), i. 422;

- its position under the Norman kings, ii. 261;

- burial of Rufus at, ii. 340;

- fall of the minster tower, ii. 341;

- Duke Robert declines to besiege it, ii. 406.

Witenagemót,

- held three times a year, i. 222 (note);
- gradually becomes less popular, i. 602;
- lessened freedom of speech in, i. 603;
- inner and outer council of, ib.

Witsand, William Rufus said to have set sail from, i. 13 (note).

Wlurintun, grant of the manor, ii. 507.

Worcester,

- rebel nobles march against, i. 47;

- its position, i. 48;

- its deliverance by Wulfstan, i. 48–51, ii. 475–481.

Worm’s Head, name of, ii. 615.

Wulf, son of Harold, set free by Robert, i. 14.

Wulfgar the huntsman,

- one of the defenders of Bridgenorth, ii. 433;

- his negotiations with Henry I., ii. 440, 443.

Wulfgeat the huntsman, ii. 433 (note).

Wulfnoth, son of Godwine,

- reimprisoned by William Rufus, i. 13, 14;

- signs a charter of William of Saint-Calais, i. 14 (note);

- signs the foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral, i. 309 (note).

Wulfric the huntsman, ii. 433 (note).

Wulfstan, Saint, Bishop of Worcester,

- attends the Christmas assembly at Westminster, i. 18, 19 (note);

- defends Worcester against the rebels, i. 48–51, ii. 475–481;

- excommunicates them, i. 51;

- legendary growth of the story, ii. 477;

- decides between Anselm and Bishop Maurice, i. 440;

- his sickness, i. 478;
- his dinner with “good men,” ib.;
- his correspondence, i. 479;
- confesses to Robert of Hereford, ib.;
- his death, i. 477, 480;
- entry as to his death, i. 478 (note);

- appears to Bishop Robert of Hereford, i. 480, 533 (note);

- his burial, i. 480;

- honour paid to him by King John, i. 481;

- his action against the fashion of wearing long hair, ii. 501.

Y.

- Yeovil, i. 43 (note).

- Yeovilton, i. 43 (note).

- York, Priory of Holy Trinity at,

- founded by Ralph Paganel, i. 31;

- massacre of Jews at, i. 160 (note);

- Saint Peter’s Hospital at, gifts of Rufus to, i. 168, ii. 506;

- its deliverance in 1069 compared with that of Le Mans, ii. 279.

Transcriber’s Note

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- Changed December 35 to December 25 in the Contents.

- Added space in ‘u. s.’ to several footnote references for consistency.

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Table of Contents

- THE REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS.

- PREFACE.

- CONTENTS.

- ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS.

- THE REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS.

- CHAPTER I.

- INTRODUCTION.

- CHAPTER II.

- THE EARLY DAYS OF WILLIAM RUFUS.[4] 1087–1090.

- CHAPTER III.

- THE FIRST WARS OF WILLIAM RUFUS. 1090–1092.[479]

- CHAPTER IV.

- THE PRIMACY OF ANSELM AND THE ACQUISITION OF NORMANDY.[903] 1093–1097.

- FOOTNOTES.

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE