“I, Calixtus, bishop, servant of the servants of God, do grant unto you, my beloved son, Henry Augustus, by the grace of God, emperor of the Romans, that the election of bishops and abbats of the German empire, who pertain to the regality, shall take place in your presence without simony, or any violence: so that if any discord shall arise between the parties, you may give your assent, or aid, to the worthier side, by the counsel or judgment of the metropolitan or suffragans: but the elect shall receive the royalties from you, and do whatever, by these, he is lawfully bound to perform to you: but any one consecrated in the other parts of the empire, shall, within six months, receive his royalties from you, by your sceptre, and do whatever, by these, he is lawfully bound to perform to you; all things excepted which are known to belong to the Roman church. Moreover in those matters whereof you have complained, and demanded my assistance, I will afford you aid according to the duty of my office. I grant firm peace to you and to all, who are, or were aiding you at the time of this dispute. Farewell.”

“In the name of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, I Henry Augustus, by the grace of God, emperor of the Romans, for the love of God, and of the holy Roman church, and of the sovereign pope Calixtus; and for the release of my soul, do grant unto God, and the holy apostles Peter and Paul, and to the holy catholic church, all investitures by the ring and staff, and do allow canonical election, and free consecration to take place, in all churches of my kingdom or empire. The possessions and regality of St. Peter, which, from the beginning of this dispute to the present day, have been taken away, either in my father’s or my own time, and which I now hold, I restore to the same holy Roman church: and such as I do not possess, I will faithfully assist her in recovering. And of the possessions of all other churches, princes, and others, clergy as well as lay, which have been forfeited in this contention by the advice of my princes, or by course of law, such as I have, I will restore; and such as I do not possess, I will faithfully assist in recovering. And I grant firm peace to the sovereign pope Calixtus, and to the holy Roman church, and to all, who are, or have been on her side: and I will faithfully assist her in every thing in which she requires assistance: and will afford her due justice in such matters whereof she shall have complained. All these affairs were transacted by the consent and counsel of the nobility, whose names are here subscribed. Albert, archbishop of Mentz: Frederic, archbishop of Cologne: the bishop of Ratisbon: the bishop of Bamburg: Bruno, bishop of Spires: the bishop of Augsburg: the bishop of Utrecht: the bishop of Constance: the abbat of Fulda: duke Herman: duke Frederic: Boniface the marquis: Theobald the marquis: Ernulf count palatine: Othbert count palatine: earl Berengar.”

The inveterate malady which had disturbed the church being thus cured, every true Christian greatly rejoiced that this emperor, who, in military glory trod fast upon the footsteps of Charles the Great, neither degenerated from his devotion to God: for, in addition to nobly quelling the rebellions of his German empire, he subdued his Italian dominions in such wise as none had done before. Entering Italy thrice, within the space of ten years, he restrained the pride of the cities: at his first coming he exterminated by fire, Novaria, Placentia, Arezzo: at the second, and third, Cremona, and Mantua; and quieted the sedition at Ravenna, by a siege of a few days’ continuance: for the Pisans and Pavians, with the people of Milan, embraced his friendship, rather than encounter the weight of his enmity. The daughter of the king of England, who, as I said before, was married to him, resembled her father in fortitude, and her mother in sanctity: piety and assiduity vied with each other in her character, nor was it easy to discern, which of her good qualities was most commendable.

At that time lived William earl of Poitou; a giddy unsettled kind of man; who, after520 he returned from Jerusalem, as the preceding book relates, wallowed as completely in the sty of vice, as though he had believed that all things were governed by chance, and not by Providence. Moreover, he rendered his absurdities pleasant, by a kind of satirical wit: exciting the loud laughter of his hearers. Finally he erected, near a castle called Niort, certain buildings after the form of a little monastery, and used to talk idly about placing therein an abbey of prostitutes, naming several of the most abandoned courtezans, one as abbess, another as prioress; and declaring that he would fill up the rest of the offices in like manner. Repudiating his lawful consort, he carried off the wife of a certain viscount, of whom he was so desperately enamoured, that he placed on his shield the figure of this woman; affirming, that he was desirous of bearing her in battle, in the same manner as she bore him at another time. Being reproved and excommunicated for this by Girard bishop of Angouleme, and ordered to renounce this illicit amour, “You shall curl with a comb,” said he, “the hair that has forsaken your forehead, ere I repudiate the viscountess;” thus taunting a man, whose scanty hair required no comb. Nor did he less when Peter bishop of Poitou, a man of noted sanctity, rebuked him still more freely; and, when contumacious, began to excommunicate him publicly: for, becoming furious, he seized the prelate by the hair, and flourishing his drawn sword: “You shall die this instant,” said he, “unless you give me absolution.” The bishop, then, counterfeiting alarm, and asking leave to speak, boldly completed the remainder of the form of excommunication; suspending the earl so entirely from all Christian intercourse, that he should neither dare to associate, nor speak with any one, unless he speedily recanted. Thus fulfilling his duty, as it appeared to him, and thirsting for the honour of martyrdom, he stretched out his neck, saying, “Strike, strike.” But William, becoming somewhat softened, regained his usual pleasantry, and said, “Certainly I hate you so cordially, that I will not dignify you by the effects of my anger, nor shall you ever enter heaven by the agency of my hand.” After a short time, however, tainted by the infectious insinuations of this abandoned woman, he drove the rebuker of his incest into banishment: who there, making a happy end, manifested to the world, by great and frequent miracles, how gloriously he survives in heaven. On hearing this, the earl abstained not from his inconsiderate speeches, openly declaring, that he was sorry he had not despatched him before; that so his pure soul might chiefly have to thank him, through whose violence he had acquired eternal happiness. The following verses are a tribute of applause to the life and death of Peter. It was said of him, when alive,—

And when dead, it was said of him,—

The contemporaries and associates in religion of this Peter, were Robert de Arbrisil,521 and Bernard522 abbat of Tyron, the first of whom was the most celebrated and eloquent preacher of these times: so much did he excel, not in frothy, but honeyed diction, that from the gifts of persons vying with each other in making presents, he founded that noble monastery of nuns at Font-Evraud, in which every secular pleasure being extirpated, no other place possesses such multitudes of devout women, fervent in their obedience to God. For in addition to the rejection of other allurements, how great is this! that they never speak but in the chapter: the rule of constant silence being enjoined by the superior, because, when this is broken, women are prone to vain talk. The other, a noted admirer of poverty, leaving a most opulent monastery, retired with a few followers into a woody and sequestered place, and there, “As the light could not be hidden under a bushel,” vast numbers flocking to him, he founded a monastery, more celebrated for the piety and number of the monks, than for the splendour and extent of its riches.

And, that England may not be supposed destitute of virtue, who can pass by Serlo, abbat of Gloucester, who advanced that place, almost from meanness and insignificance, to a glorious pitch? All England is acquainted with the considerate rule professed at Gloucester, which the weak may embrace, and the strong cannot despise. Their leader, Serlo’s axiom, was, “Moderation in all things.” Although mild to the good, he was fierce and terrific to the haughty; to corroborate which, I shall insert the verses of Godfrey the prior concerning him:—

Who can in silence pass Lanzo, who flourished at that time, equal to any in sanctity? A monk of Clugny, and prior of St. Pancras523 in England; who, by his worth, so ennobled that place with the grace of monastic reverence, that it might be justly declared the peculiar habitation of virtue. As nothing I can say will equal the merits of his life, I shall merely subjoin, in the language I found it, an account of his death; that it may plainly appear, how gloriously he had lived, who died so highly favoured.

“The affectionate Lord who scourges every son whom he receives,—who promises the just, that they shall be partakers of his sufferings as well as of his consolation; permitted Lanzo to approach his death by such bitter sickness, during three days, that if any spot from earthly intercourse had adhered to his pure soul, it must no doubt have been wiped away by that suffering. For, as that great apostle, who reclined on the breast of our Lord, says, ‘If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us;’ and since Christ will judge every sin, either lightly here or more severely hereafter, he was unwilling that any offence should be in the way of him after death, whom he knew to have loved him with all his heart. Wherefore, if there was anything which he thought worthy of examination in Lanzo, he was desirous of consuming it in his lifetime. To this assertion his confidence in death bore witness. For when in full health, on the fifth day of the week before the passion of our Lord, having read the psalter, according to the daily custom of Lent, and being about to celebrate mass at the third hour, he had robed himself to the chasuble,524 and had proceeded in the service till mass was on the eve of beginning, he was suddenly seized with such an acute disorder, that himself laying aside the garments he had put on, he left them not even folded up.525 Departing from the oratory, he was afflicted for two days, without intermission, that is, till the Saturday, having no rest either sitting, walking, standing, lying, or sleeping. During the nights, however, he never spoke to his brethren, though entreating him to break silence; but to this he did not consent, beseeching them not to sully the purity of his vow; for since he had assumed the monastic habit, whenever he had gone out from complines, he had never spoken till primes of the ensuing day. But on the Saturday, though so convulsed as to expect dissolution every moment, he commanded the brethren, now rising for matins, to come and anoint him: and when he was anxious to kiss them, after being anointed, as is the custom, through excess of love he saluted them, not lying or sitting, but, though agonized to death, standing, supported in their arms. At dawn, being conducted to the chapter-house,526 when he had taken his seat, he asked all the brethren to come before him, and giving them the paternal benediction and absolution, he entreated the like from them. He then instructed them what they were to do in case he died: and so, returning whence he came, he passed the rest of the day with the succeeding Sunday, rather more tranquilly; but, behold, after this, that is, after Sunday, signs of approaching death were discovered; and having his hands washed, and his hair combed, he entered the oratory to hear mass; and receiving the body and blood of the Lord retired to his bed. After a short time he became speechless, gave his benediction to the brethren singly as they came before him, and in like manner to the whole society. But lifting his eyes to heaven, he attempted with both hands to bless the abbat, with all committed to his charge. Being entreated by the fraternity to be mindful of them with the Lord, to whom he was going, he most kindly assented by an inclination of his head. After he had done thus, he beckoned for the cross to be presented to him, which, adoring with his head and indeed with his whole body, and embracing with his hands, he appeared to salute with joyful lips and to kiss with fond affection, when he distressed the standers-by with signs of departing, and, being caught up in their arms, was carried yet alive into the presbytery before the altar of St. Pancras. Here, surviving yet a time, and pleasing from the rosy hue of his countenance, he departed to Christ, pure, and freed eternally from every evil, at the same hour of the day on which, for his purification, he had been stricken with disease. And behold how wonderfully all things corresponded; the passion of the servant with the passion of the Lord; the hour of approaching sickness with the hour of approaching eternal happiness; the five days of illness which he endured for purifying the five senses of the body, through which none can avoid sin. Moreover, from his dying ere the completion of the fifth day, I think it is signified that he had never sinned in the last sense which is called the touch. And what else can the third hour of the day, in which he fell sick, and by dying entered into eternal life, signify, than that the same grace of the Holy Spirit, by which we know his whole life was regulated, was evidently present to him, both in his sickness and his death. Besides, we cannot doubt but that he equalled our fathers Odo and Odilo,527 both in virtue and in its reward, as a remarkable circumstance granted to them was allowed to him also. For as the Lord permitted them to die on the octaves of those festivals which they loved beyond all other, (as St. Odo chiefly loved the feast of St. Martin, and St. Odilo the nativity of our Lord, and each died on the octaves of these tides), so to Lanzo, who beyond all of this age observed the rule of St. Benedict, and venerated the holy mother of God and her solemnities with singular regard, it happened that, as, according to his usual custom, both on the demise of St. Benedict, and on the festival of St. Mary, which is called the Annunciation, he celebrated high mass in the convent: so on the eighth from the aforesaid anniversary of St. Benedict, being stricken with sickness, he also on the eighth day from the annunciation departed to Christ. Wherefore, he who is unacquainted with the life of Lanzo, may learn from his death, how pleasing it was to God, and will believe with us that these things, which I have mentioned, did not happen after the common course of dying persons, as he was a man surpassed by none, in the present times, for the gifts of the Holy Spirit.”

Nor ought the memory of Godfrey, prior of Winchester, to decay, who was celebrated in these times for his learning and his piety: his learning is attested by many works and epistles composed in his familiar and pleasing style, but principally by his epigrams, written after the manner of satires, and his verses in celebration of the chief personages of England.528 Indeed he restored every divine office to its native grace, from the manner in which he treated it, though before it had become obsolete from antiquity. The laws of religion and of hospitality, already happily traced out, he strongly impressed on the monks, who to this day so closely follow the footsteps of the prior in both, that they deserve all or nearly all possible commendation; indeed in this house there is a place of entertainment to any extent, for travellers of every description by sea or land, with boundless expense and ceaseless attention. Among other things this holy man was noted for his humility, so that nothing but what savoured of modesty and sweetness proceeded from this singular depository of philosophy. How great indeed must this commendation seem? for there is hardly any one, even the least tinctured with learning, who does not appear to consider others beneath his dignity, by his haughty gestures and proud gait proclaiming the consciousness of his own erudition. However, that no perfection might be wanting to his pure soul, he kept his lowly bed for many years, equally consuming his vitals and his transgressions in the furnace of lasting sickness.

But why should I enlarge on such characters? There were, indeed, at that time in England many persons illustrious both for learning and for piety, whose virtue was the more commendable in proportion to its constancy and vigour in these degenerate times. By a blameless life, therefore, they gave credibility to ancient histories, and freed them from any suspicion of falsehood, as they produced modern example of the possibility of doing what was there recorded. Moreover, were there any prelates apparently degenerating from the sanctity of ancient times, that is to say, skilled in secular, indolent in spiritual matters? If there were such, I say, they endeavoured to shade their failings by costly ornaments for their cathedrals. Each of them erected new churches, and adorned the bodies of their saints with silver and gold; lavish of expense to secure the good opinion of the beholders. Among these is Ranulf before-mentioned, who, being made bishop of Durham, purchased some glory for his name, by new buildings for the monks, and by regard to St. Cuthbert. His fame is exalted by his translation of the holy body, which when taken from its resting-place he exhibited to all who wished to behold it. Radulf, at that time bishop of Sees, and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, with fortunate temerity, handled and displayed the uncorrupted body; for it had become matter of doubt with certain persons whether the miracle of the incorruption of the corpse, which had formerly been reported, still had effect. About the same time, in the monastery of Ely, under abbat Richard, the virgin reliques of St. Etheldritha, subjects of amaze and reverence to the beholders, were seen entire. This monastery, lately changed by king Henry into a bishopric, had Hervey, as its first prelate; who, from the scantiness of its revenues, had deserted Bangor, where he had been enthroned. And that the bishop of Lincoln might not complain of the mutilation of his diocese, the king made up his loss, out of the possessions of Ely, and satisfied his claim. Indeed, whatever, in his time, was unjustly purloined, or violently taken, from the primacy of the two metropolitans of Canterbury and York, I will relate in its proper place. For having now ended the series of the kings, it seems incumbent on me, to speak of that of the bishops of all England: and here I wish I had abundant matter for relation, in order that such splendid luminaries of the country might no longer be lost in obscurity. Moreover, there will perhaps be many in different parts of England, who may say, that they have heard and read some things differently related from the mode in which I have recorded them: but if they judge candidly, they will not, on this account, brand me with censure: since, following the strict laws of history, I have asserted nothing but what I have learned either from relators, or writers, of veracity. But be these matters as they may, I especially congratulate myself on being, through Christ’s assistance, the only person, or at least the first, who, since Bede, have arranged a continued history of the English. Should any one, therefore, as I already hear it intimated, undertake, after me, a work of a similar nature, he may be indebted to me for having collected materials, though the selection from them must depend upon himself.529

Thus much then, my venerated lord, I have had to relate, concerning the history of the English, from their first arrival in this country, till the twentieth year of your father’s most happy reign: the remainder will occupy a separate volume, if you condescend a kind regard to these. For when I had finished this work, after contemplating many characters, I determined that it ought more especially to be dedicated to you: as, when I examine others, I observe nobility in one; in another military science; in a third learning; justice in a fourth; but munificence in few indeed. Thus, I admire some things in one, some in another; but in you the aggregate of all. For, if ever any man was truly noble, you certainly excel in that quality; being descended from the most glorious kings and earls, and resembling them in your disposition. From the Normans, therefore, you derive your military skill; from the Flemings your personal elegance; from the French your surpassing munificence. Of your activity in war, who can doubt, when your most excellent father himself looks up to it? For whenever any tumults are reported in Normandy, he despatches you before him, in order that, what is suspicious may be dispelled by your valour, and peace may be restored by your sagacity. When he returns to his kingdom, he brings you with him, as a safeguard to him abroad, a delight at home, and an ornament every where.

So devoted are you to literature, that though distracted by such a mass of business, you yet snatch some hours to yourself, for the purpose either of reading, or of hearing others. Justly do you regulate, indeed, your exalted rank in life, neither omitting the toils of war for literature, nor contemning literature, as some do, for military service. Here, also, the excess of your learning appears; for, whilst you love books, you manifest how deeply you have drunk of the stream. For many things, indeed, are eagerly desired when not possessed, but no person will love philosophy, who shall not have imbibed it thoroughly. The fame of your justice reaches even our parts; for a false sentence has never been extorted from you, either by elevation of rank, or by scantiness of fortune. The person who wishes to subvert justice, finds in your breast nothing conducive to his design, either by the offering of presents, or by the charm of favour. Your munificence and disregard of money, is amply shown by the monastery of Tewkesbury; from which, as I hear, you not only do not extort presents but even return its voluntary offerings. You must be well aware, how noble such a proceeding is, more especially at the present time; how much it redounds to your glory among men, how productive of the favour of God. Happy, then, according to Plato, is the republic whose ruler is a philosopher, whose sovereign delights not in gifts. More could I add on such subjects, did not the suspicion of flattery on my part, and commendable modesty on yours, restrain my tongue. In truth, my design was, not to pass by in silence the things I have uttered, in order that, by my agency, your worth might reach posterity; and that it may continue to proceed from virtue to virtue. Moreover, it was long since my intention, at the instance of certain persons, to subjoin to this work, whatever I may deem of importance, according to the successive years: but it appears advisable rather to form another volume of such matters, than to be perpetually adding to that already completed. Nor can any one say, that I engage in a superfluous work, if I record the transactions of the most celebrated among the kings of his time. Indeed my lowly condition is much indebted to his greatness, and will be still more so, were it for nothing else, than his being able to pride himself on such a son.530 For, when he had most auspiciously begotten, he first commanded you to be instructed, not superficially, as plainly appears at the present day, in science; he next made you master of a most princely fortune; and, at this moment he reposes his paternal regards upon you. Let this volume then, whatever its merits or defects, be altogether dedicated to your fame; in the next my life and my history will terminate together. Farther, kindly accept this my offering, that I, whose judgment has not erred in its choice, may be gratified by the good wishes of my patron.