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.