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.