The Character of William Rufus.
Some of the main points in the character of William Rufus are not badly hit off by Giraldus (de Inst. Princ. iii. 30), though there are features on which he does not dwell;
“Erat rex ille strenuus in armis et animosus, sed tyrannus, adeo militiam diligens ecclesiamque Dei exosam habens ut monasteria cuncta domosque religiosas ab Anglis olim per Angliam fundatas et ditatas, cum terris omnibus et possessionibus, vel ex majori mutilare vel in militares feodos convertere proposuisset.”
These last words are of importance for another part of our inquiry (see p. 346); but the general phrase “militiam diligens,” a phrase capable of more meanings than one, is, in all its meanings, strictly applicable to Rufus.
Part of the character of him given by the Hyde writer (299) has been already quoted (see p. 353). He is brought in as follows, with the further note that he was “nimis amator pecuniæ;”
“Willelmus rex animo ferus, corpore strenuus, defensor quidem patriæ cœpit esse, sed non satis idoneus procreator [protector? or is a “nursing-father” meant?] ecclesiæ. Si enim ita studeret religioni quam vanæ curiositati, nullus ei profecto deberet princeps comparari.”
Geoffrey Gaimar (Chron. Ang. Norm. i. 30) brings him on the stage with some respect;
(For “honuré” another reading is “coroné.”) He then goes on to the war in Maine, so closely that he reaches Seez on his march soon enough for the name of that city to rime with “peès.”
But, after the picture in the Chronicles (1100), the character of William Rufus is best studied in the two works of William of Malmesbury. On the account in the Gesta Regum I have of course drawn largely; it is in fact, with some help from Orderic, our main storehouse. The tone which its writer takes throughout is very remarkable; he tries to make the best of things without directly contradicting the facts. In his prologue to the fourth book he complains of the difficulty, one which has not lessened since his time, of telling the exact truth about recent matters, especially when kings are concerned; and he at last lays down a rule which would forbid any suggestio falsi, but would allow a good deal of suppressio veri;
“Dicam in hoc libro … quidquid de Willelmo filio Willelmi magni dici poterit, ita ut nec veritas rerum titubet, nec principalis decoloretur majestas.”
He brings William Rufus in in the beginning of the book itself;
“Incomparabilis proculdubio nostro tempore princeps, si non eum magnitudo patris obrueret, nec ejus juventutem fata præcipitassent, ne per ætatem maturiorem aboleret errores licentia potestatis et impetu juvenili contractos.”
Certainly Rufus, like many other sinners, might have reformed; but the charitable hope is made less likely by the general witness, including that of the writer himself, that he grew worse and worse. For William of Malmesbury (iv. 312) says himself;
“Excellebat in eo magnanimitas, quam ipse processu temporis nimia severitate obfuscavit; ita in ejus furtim pectus vitia pro virtutibus serpebant ut discernere nequiret. Diu dubitavit mundus quo tandem vergeret, quo se inclinaret, indoles illius. Inter initia, vivente Lanfranco archiepiscopo, ab omni crimine abhorrebat, ut unicum fore regum speculum speraretur; quo defuncto, aliquamdiu varium se præstitit æquali lance vitiorum atque virtutum, jam vero, postremis annis bonorum gelante studio, incommodorum seges succrescens incaluit. Et erat ita liberalis quod prodigus, ita magnanimus quod superbus, ita severus quod sævus. Liceat enim mihi, pace majestatis regiæ, verum non occuluisse, quia iste parum Deum reverebatur, nihil homines.”
He then gives some details, most of which I have quoted already, and adds an elaborate discourse on real and false liberality. He is obliged to allow (ib. 313) that the liberality of William Rufus was of the latter kind;
“Quidam, cum non habeant quod dent, ad rapinas convertuntur, majusque odium assequuntur ab his quibus auferunt quam beneficium ab his quibus contulerunt; quod huic regi accidisse dolemus.”
Some way on, after more about his liberality, followed by the description of the vices of the court, of which more anon, and a short reference to Anselm and Eadmer, comes (iv. 316) a most singular passage;
“Vides quantus e liberalitate quam putabat fomes malorum eruperit. In quibus corrigendis quia ipse non tam exhibuit diligentiam quam prætendebat negligentiam, magnam et vix abolendam incurrit infamiam; immerito, credo, quia nunquam se tali supponeret probro qui se tanto meminisset prælatum imperio. Hæc igitur ideo inelaborato et celeri sermone convolvo, quia de tanto rege mala dicere erubesco, in dejiciendis et extenuandis malis laborans.”
Then come the anecdotes, the annals of the reign, and the account of the King’s death. Then (iv. 333) we get another small picture of him, how he was
“Ingentia præsumens, et ingentia, si pensa Parcarum evolvere vel violentiam fortunæ abrumpere et eluctari potuisset, facturus.”
Lastly, he is dismissed with this general character;
“Vir sacrati ordinis hominibus, pro damno animæ cujus salutem revocare laborent, maxime miserandus; stipendiariis militibus pro copia donativorum mirandus; provincialibus, quod eorum substantias abradi sinebat, non desiderandus.”
The Gesta Regum was the courtly book, written for courtly readers, and dedicated to Earl Robert, the Red King’s nephew. The subject demanded that the writer should say something about the Red King; he had no mind to tell actual lies; so he made the best of him that he could without telling any. But William of Malmesbury also wrote the Gesta Pontificum for ecclesiastical readers. In that book bishops were the main subject; kings came in only incidentally. But, when he did speak of them, he was not under the same necessity as he was in his other work of speaking of them with bated breath. In this work he treated William Rufus very much as he treated several bishops, William’s own Flambard among them. He first wrote a most severe character of him, and then cut it out altogether. The passages which thus perished in the second edition are printed in Mr. Hamilton’s notes, pp. 73, 79, 84, 104. In the first place (73) he tells us how the King, “abjecto respectu omnis boni, omnia ecclesiastica in fiscum redegit.” He was “juvenili calore et regio fastu præfervidus, humana divinaque juxta ponderans et sui juris æstimans.” But he has spoken of his ways elsewhere—doubtless in the Gesta Regum—he will now speak of them only as occasion serves. In the next place (79) he wrote at first;
“Licet nulla Dei consideratio, nulla cujuscunque hominis sanctitas, ejus proterviam sedare possent, adeo cuncta quæ sibi dicebantur vel turbida ira vel facetis, ut sibi videbatur, salibus eludebat.”
This was too strong; in the second edition things are put in another light;
“Hoc in rege magnificum videri debet, quod qui omnia pro potestate facere posset, magis quædam joco eludebat, ad sales multa extra judicium animi transferens.”
The third passage (84) comes in the story of Anselm; the part of it which concerns us here runs thus;
“Rex in eum [Anselmum] et in omnes venabatur lites, commentabatur caussas quibus congregaret pecunias. In exactionibus sævus, in male partis dispertiendo prodigus, ibi harpyiarum ungues, hic Cleopatræ luxum, in utroque impudentiam prætendens. Si quis ei sponte quid obtulisset, nisi quantitas dati suæ conveniret menti, statim obliquo intuitu exterrebat quoad illum ad quas liberet doni conditiones adduceret.”
The last passage (104) also comes in the story of Anselm. William’s character is thus drawn;
“Protervus et arrogans, æque in Deum ut in homines rebellis, religioni Christianæ magis ex usu quam amore addictus, ut qui plures Judæos Christianos factos ad Judaismum pecuniis corruptus revocaret. Omnia fato agi credulus, nullum sanctorum nos posse adjuvare credebat et dicebat, subinde increpitans et dicens, scilicet ea cura jam olim mortuos sollicitat ut nostris intersint negotiis. Proindeque, si ab apostolico excommunicaretur, in secundis haberet, qui quantum suæ conscientiæ interesset, non multum curaret si totis annis sacramentorum expers esset.”
This last passage is remarkable, as seeming to show that Rufus rather wondered that he was not excommunicated (see p. 611). And one wonders too, on reading this passage and some others (see p. 166), that no controversialist has ever claimed Rufus as a premature Protestant. Even Sir Richard Baker, a yet more loyal apologist than the author of the Gesta Regum, did not hit upon that.
William of Malmesbury then goes on to tell the story of the accused deer-stealers—doubtless from Eadmer, to whom he so often refers—and then gives some reasons for not enlarging further on the evil doings of Rufus. One is “quod non debeam defunctum meo premere judicio qui habet judicem præfata [sic], cui judicanti omnis attremit creatura.” The other is that it is better, for the sake of edification, to pass by evil doings, especially some kinds of evil doings; “Adulterium discitur dum narratur, et omne crimen faciendum menti male inculcatur, dum qualiter ab alio factum sit studiosius explicatur.”
Orderic is in this case less elaborate in his portrait-painting than William of Malmesbury. Some of his sayings bearing on the character of William Rufus have been already quoted. He sometimes brings him in, after his fashion, with some epithet, appropriate or quaint—“liberalis rex,” “turgidus rex,” “pomposus sceptriger,” and the like. But he twice gives something like a full-length picture. The first is at 680 A;
“In diebus illis lucerna veræ sanctitatis obscurius micabat pene cunctis in ordinibus, mundique principes cum subjectis agminibus inhærebant tenebrosis operibus. Guillelmus Rufus Albionis rex juvenis erat protervus et lascivus, quem nimis inhianter prosequebantur agmina populorum impudicis moribus. Imperiosus et audax atque militaris erat, et multitudine militum pompose tripudiabat. Militiæ titulis applaudebat, illisque propter fastum secularem admodum favebat. Pagenses contra milites defendere negligebat, quorum possessiones a suis tironibus et armigeris impune devastari permittebat. Tenacis memoriæ et ardentis ad bonum seu malum voluntatis erat. Terribilis furibus et latrunculis imminebat, pacemque serenam per subjectam regionem servari valenter cogebat. Omnes incolas regni sui aut illexit largitate, aut compressit virtute et terrore, ut nullus contra eum auderet aliquo modo mutire.”
This comes just before the pious and humane speech (see p. 223), in which Rufus proposes the first war in Normandy. Towards the end of the reign of Rufus (763 C), Orderic takes up his brush again;
“Guillelmus Ruffus, militia clarus, post mortem patris in Anglia regnavit, rebelles sibi fortiter virga justitiæ compressit, et xii. annis ac x. mensibus ad libitum suum omnes suæ ditioni subjugavit. Militibus et exteris largus erat, sed pauperes incolas regni sui nimis opprimebat, et illis violenter auferebat quæ prodigus advenis tribuebat. Multi sub ipso patris sui proceres obierunt, qui proavis suis extraneum jus bellicose vendicaverunt, pro quibus nonnullos degeneres in locis magnatorum restituit, et amplis pro adulationis merito datis honoribus sublimavit. Legitimam conjugem nunquam habuit, sed obscœnis fornicationibus et frequentibus mœchiis inexplebiliter inhæsit, flagitiisque pollutus exemplum turpis lasciviæ subjectis damnabiliter exhibuit.”
There is also an earlier passage (669 A) which sets forth how William kept the peace of the land. He records the surrender of Rochester, and adds;
“Omnium qui contra pacem enses acceperant nequam commotio compressa est. Nam iniqui et omnes malefactores, ut audaciam regis et fortitudinem viderunt, quia prædas et cædes aliaque facinora cum aviditate amplexati fuerant, contremuerunt, nec postea xii. annis quibus regnavit mutire ausi fuerunt. Ipse autem callide se habuit et vindictæ tempus opportunum exspectavit.”
This of course refers to disturbers on a larger scale than common robbers. But one law applied to all. King William kept down all evil-doers, save himself and his own company.
Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 22) mainly translates the Chronicle; but he adds some touches of his own, and strengthens some of the epithets, “invisus rex nequissimus et Deo et populo,” &c. His general picture is;
“Nec respirare potuit Anglia miserabiliter suffocata. Cum autem omnia raperent et subverterent qui regi famulabantur, ita ut adulteria violenter et impune committerent, quicquid antea nequitiæ pullulaverat in perfectum excrevit, et quicquid antea non fuerat his temporibus pullulavit.”
He makes also, improving the words of the Chronicler, an important addition;
“Quicquid Deo Deumque diligentibus displicebat hoc regi regemque diligentibus placebat. Nec luxuriæ scelus tacendum exercebant occulte, sed ex impudentia coram sole.”
This represents the English words (Chron. Petrib. 1100), “And þeah þe ic hit lang ylde, eall þet þe Gode wæs lað and rihtfulle mannan, eall þæt wæs gewunelic on þisan lande on his tyman.”
Somewhat later again the discerning William of Newburgh (i. 2) thus paints the Red King;
“Factum est ut … Willelmus in principio infirmius laboriosiusque imperaret, et ad conciliandos sibi animos subditorum modestior mitiorque appareret. At postquam, perdomitis hostibus et fratre mollius agente, roboratum est regnum ejus, exaltatum est illico cor ejus, apparuitque, succedentibus prosperis, qualis apud se latuisset dum premeretur adversis. Homo vecors et inconstans in omnibus viis suis; Deo indevotus et ecclesiæ gravis, nuptiarum spernens et passim lasciviens, opes regni vanissima effusione exhauriens, et eisdem deficientibus subditorum fortunas in hoc ipsum corradens. Homo typo immanissimæ superbiæ turgidus, et usque ad nauseam vel etiam derisionem doctrinæ evangelicæ, temporalis gloriæ fœdissima voluptate absorptus.”
This description, after all, is very much that of William of Malmesbury translated into less courtly language. The “magnanimitas” has now fully developed into “immanissima superbia.”
From putting together all these descriptions we get the portrait of William Rufus as one of those tyrants who keep a monopoly of tyranny for themselves and their immediate servants. He puts down other offenders, and strictly keeps the general peace of the land. His justice, in the technical sense, is strong, with of course the special exceptions hinted at by William of Malmesbury (see p. 143). There is no charge of cruelty in his own person; but he allows his immediate followers, his courtiers and mercenaries, to do any kind of wrong without punishment. He oppresses the nation at large by exactions for the pay of his mercenaries. He is withal a warlike and chivalrous king. We must take in the full sense of phrases like “militiam diligens,” which mean more than simply “warlike;” the technical sense of “miles” and “militia” often comes in. He was bountiful to his mercenaries, and generally lavish. He was renowned for a quality called “magnanimitas.” He was irreligious and blasphemous. Lastly, he and his immediate company were noticed for specially foul lives, of a kind, it would seem, out-doing the every-day vices of mankind.
Some of these points call for a more special notice. The “magnanimitas” of William of Malmesbury is not exactly “magnanimity” in the modern sense, which generally means a certain grand and stately kind of mercy. The magnanimous man nowadays chiefly shows his magnanimity, not so much in forgiving wrongs as in passing them by without notice; they have hardly moved him enough for forgiveness to come in. There is something approaching to this in the “magnanimitas Willelmi” (iv. 309) shown to the knight who unhorsed him before Saint Michael’s Mount (see p. 289). But the “præclara magnanimitas” (iv. 320) shown in his voyage to Touques is of another kind. Then it is that we have the wonderful comparison, or rather identification of William Rufus and Cæsar, of which more in a later note (see Note PP). William of Malmesbury clearly means the word for praise; and it is at least not meant for dispraise when Suger, at the beginning of his life of Lewis (Duchèsne, iv. 283), speaks of “egregie magnanimus rex Anglorum Guillelmus, magnanimioris Guillelmi regis filius Anglorum domitoris.” But the word seems to have reached a bad sense when (p. 302) Count Odo is called “tumultuosus, miræ magnanimitatis, caput sceleratorum” (see N. C. vol. v. p. 74). And it is surely a fault, though it seems to be recorded with admiration, that the first Percy who held Alnwick “fuit vir magnanimus, quia noluit injuriam pati ab aliquo sine gravi vindicta” (see the Chronicle of Alnwick in the second volume of the Archæological Institute at Newcastle, Appendix, p. v). And, as it is not exactly our “magnanimous,” neither is it exactly the μεγαλόψυχος of Aristotle (Eth. iv. 3)—ὁ μεγάλων αὐτὸν ἀξιῶν ἄξιος ὤν axios ôn—though it comes nearer to it. William of Malmesbury’s “magnanimus” is perhaps Aristotle’s μεγαλόψυχος verging towards the χαῦνος. The essence of the character is self-esteem, self-confidence; a step will change him from William’s “magnanimus” into Orderic’s “turgidus.” And this comes pretty much to the τετυφωμένος of the New Testament (2 Tim. iii. 4), who is not unlike William Rufus, only that he has at least a μόρφωσις εὐσεβείας. Here our version has “high-minded”—the Revised Version has “puffed up”—just as in the departed service for January 30 the slayers of Charles the First were called “high-minded” by those who certainly did not mean to praise them. This again is not quite the “magnanimitas” with which we have to do, which is still a virtue, though a dangerous one. Perhaps we may say that William the King really was “high-minded” in this sense, and that William the monk used a slightly ambiguous word, in order to pass him off for “high-minded” in the other sense.
The mercenary soldiers, the excesses wrought by them, and the extortion by which their pay and largesse were supplied, all come out in the words of the Chronicler that the land was vexed “mid here and mid ungylde.” That they were chiefly foreigners appears from Orderic’s phrase “advenæ,” which is doubtless opposed, not only to the “Angli naturales,” but to the companions of the Conqueror and their sons. The “advenæ” are opposed to the “incolæ,” whether the “incolæ” have been settled for one generation or twenty. So says William of Malmesbury (iv. 314);
“Excitabat ergo totum occidentem fama largitatis ejus, orientem usque pertendens; veniebant ad eum milites ex omni quæ citra montes est provincia, quos ipse profusissimis expensis munerabat; itaque cum defecisset quod daret, inops et exhaustus ad lucra convertit animum.”
Of their doings he tells us that, “soluta militari disciplina, curiales rusticorum substantias depascebantur, insumebant fortunas.” But the fullest account of their misdeeds is that given by Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 94), when he records the statute passed by Henry, when he and Anselm give their minds “qualiter aliquo modo mala quæ pauperes maxime deprimebant mitigarentur.”
“Tempore siquidem fratris sui regis hunc morem multitudo eorum qui curiam ejus sequebantur habebat, ut quæque pessumdarent, diriperent, et, nulla eos cohibente disciplina, totam terram per quam rex ibat devastarent. Accedebat his aliud malum; plurimi namque eorum sua malitia debriati dum reperta in hospitiis quæ invadebant, penitus absumere non valebant, ea aut ad forum per eosdem ipsos quorum erant pro suo lucro ferre et vendere, aut supposito igne cremare, aut si potus esset, lotis exinde equorum suorum pedibus, residuum illius per terram effundere, aut certe alio aliquo modo disperdere solebant. Quæ vero in patres-familias crudelia, quæ in uxores et filias eorum indecentia, fecerint, reminisci pudet. Has ob causas quiqui, præcognito regis adventu, sua habitacula fugiebant, sibi suisque quantum valebant in silvis vel aliis locis in quibus se tutari posse sperebant, consulentes.”
Here doubtless the misdeeds of courtiers, soldiers, and camp-followers, are all mixed together; but all were in the train of the King. In short, the march of the second William through his own kingdom must have done at least as much harm as the march of the first William when he was only seeking to make it his kingdom. All these horrors undoubtedly fell on the native English more heavily than on anybody else; only I see no reason to think that, when the houses of a small English and a small Norman landowner, or the houses of the English and Norman tenants of a great landowner, stood near together, the Norman house would be respected, while the English house was plundered. The plunderers would hardly touch the house of Thurkill of Warwick any more than that of Roger of Ivry; but, among their smaller neighbours, William and Matilda would hardly fare better than Godric and Godgifu. Indeed William of Malmesbury a little further on (iv. 319) speaks of the general oppression of Rufus as one that touched all classes, “Non pauperem tenuitas, non opulentum copia, tuebatur.”
The mercenaries of the days of Rufus forestall the mercenaries of the days of Stephen and John; but, unless we are to reckon a man of the rank of Walter Tirel, we do not get such a clear notion of any particular persons among them. The phrase of Orderic, in one of the passages already quoted (see above, p. 495), about the promotion of “degeneres” in the room of the nobles of the Conqueror’s day might make us think that some of them were put in high places. But no such instances seem to be recorded. And the word “restituit” might suggest the restoration of native Englishmen, a process which may really (see p. 88) have happened to some extent after the suppression of the rebellion in 1088. But “Ordericus Angligena” would never speak of the “Angli naturales” as “degeneres.”
The dress, manners, and morals of the court of William Rufus stand out clearly in several descriptions. “Tunc effeminati passim in orbe dominabantur” says Orderic (682 B, cf. 781 D), following the remark with stronger and plainer words. He is eloquent on their womanish fashion of dressing and wearing the hair;
“Ritus heroum abjiciebant, hortamenta sacerdotum deridebant, barbaricumque morem in habitu et vita tenebant. Nam capillos a vertice in frontem discriminabant, longos crines velut mulieres nutriebant et summopere curabant, prolixisque nimiumque strictis camisiis indui tunicisque gaudebant. Omne tempus quidam usurpabant, et extra legem Dei moremque patrium pro libitu suo ducebant…. In diebus istis veterum ritus pene totus novis adinventionibus commutatus est. Femineam mollitiem petulans juventus amplectitur, feminisque viri curiales in omni lascivia summopere adulantur…. Humum pulverulentam interularum et palliorum superfluo scirmate verrunt, longis latisque manicis ad omnia facienda manus operiunt; et his superfluitatibus onusti celeriter ambulare vel aliquid utiliter operari vix possunt. Sincipite scalciati sunt ut fures, occipite autem prolixas nutriunt comas ut meretrices…. Crispant crines calamistro. Caput velant vitta sine pileo. Vix aliquis militarium procedit in publicum capite discooperto legitimeque secundum apostoli præceptum tonso.”
Yet, with all this aping of female manners, the gallants of Rufus’ court did in one respect follow the law of masculine nature more closely than their immediate antecessores, either Norman or English;
“Nunc pene universi populares cerriti sunt et barbatuli, palam manifestantes specimine tali quod sordibus libidinis gaudent, ut fœtentes hirci.”
Bishop Serlo in the sermon (816 A, B) enlarges on this last comparison with much greater strength of language; and brings in another likeness, and a reason which certainly has an odd sound;
“Barbas suas radere devitant, ne pili suas in osculis amicas præcisi pungant, et setosi Saracenos magis se quam Christianos simulant.”
Seemingly the shaving of the ancient heroes of Normandy was but rare, perhaps weekly, like the bath of their Danish forefathers (see N. C. vol. i. p. 651).
Of the long hair, and what Anselm thought of it, we hear again in the course of our story (see p. 449). William of Malmesbury also (iv. 314) has his say about the courtiers;
“Tunc fluxus crinium, tunc luxus vestium, tunc usus calceorum cum arcuatis aculeis inventus; mollitie corporis certare cum feminis, gressum frangere, gestu soluto et latere nudo incedere, adolescentium specimen erat. Enerves, emolliti, quod nati fuerant inviti manebant, expugnatores alienæ pudicitiæ, prodigi suæ. Sequebantur curiam effeminatorum manus et ganearum greges.”
A various reading in a note in Sir T. D. Hardy’s edition is stronger still.
In the Life of Wulfstan (Anglia Sacra, ii. 254) William tells us of the strictness of that saint in this matter, in which he gave Bishop Serlo his model;
“Ille vitiosos, et præsertim eos qui crinem pascerent, insectari, quorum si qui sibi verticem supponerent, ipse suis manibus comam lascivientem secaret. Habebat ad hoc parvum cultellum, quo vel excrementa unguium vel sordes librorum purgare consueverat. Hoc cæsariei libabat primitias, injungens per obedientiam, ut capillorum ceterorum series ad eandem complanarentur concordiam. Si qui repugnandum putarent, eis palam exprobrare mollitiem, palam mala minari.”
But it is rather hard when William of Malmesbury forgets that all this belongs to the last years of Wulfstan’s episcopate and not to the first, and when he goes on to say that the fashion of wearing long hair led to a decay of military prowess in England, and thereby to the Norman Conquest. This can be paralleled only with those astounding notions of Matthew Paris about our beards which I have spoken of in N. C. vol. iv. p. 686.
As the practice could be put down for a moment only, whether by Wulfstan, Anselm, or Serlo, William has to come back to it again in the Historia Novella, i. 4, where he tells of a momentary reform in 1129. See Sir T. D. Hardy’s note.
Some of these descriptions carry us back to earlier times, as to the picture of the “molles” at Carthage down to Saint Augustine’s day (Civ. Dei, vii. 26), “qui usque in hesternum diem madidis capillis, facie dealbata, fluentibus membris, incessu femineo, per plateas vicosque Carthaginis etiam a populis unde turpiter viverent exigebant” (only the “molles” of the Red King’s day took what they would by force). Cf. Lucan, i. 164;
About the shoes much has been written, and the fashion, in one shape or another, seems to have lasted for several ages. Orderic is quite as wrathful at this seemingly harmless folly, as he is at the other evil fashions which seem more serious. But perhaps the force lies in the passage where he says (682 C), “Pedum articulis, ubi finis est corporis, colubrinarum similitudinem caudarum imponunt, quas velut scorpiones præ oculis suis prospiciunt.” The practice seems to have been looked on as a profane attempt to improve the image of God, an argument which surely told no less strongly against the practice of the ancient heroes when they shaved themselves. With Count Fulk (682 A) one cannot help feeling some sympathy. “Quia pedes habebat deformes, instituit sibi fieri longos et in summitate acutissimos subtolares, ita ut operiret pedes, et eorum celaret tubera quæ vulgo vocantur uniones.” Yet this is very gravely set down among his many evil deeds. Then seemingly another stage took place, when (682 B) “Robertus quidam nebulo in curia Rufi regis prolixas pigacias primus cepit implere stuppis, et hinc inde contorquere instar cornu arietis. Ob hoc ipse Cornardus cognominatus est.”
A number of hints in the above passages seem to show us that the vices of Rufus were literally the works of darkness, works which even his own more outspoken age shrank from dwelling on in detail. It is hardly a metaphor when Orderic says (680 A), “In diebus illis lucerna veræ sanctitatis obscurius micabat.” For, among the reforms of Henry the First (Will. Malms. v. 393), “effeminatos curia propellens, lucernarum usum noctibus in curia restituit, qui fuerat tempore fratris intermissus.” That Henry the First could be looked on as a moral reformer is the best sign of what he had to reform. Henry, with his crowd of mistresses and bastards, is described as loathing the profligacies (“obscœnitates,” a word which seems used in a special sense) of his brother (Will. Malms. iv. 314, and specially the wonderful passage, v. 412, as to the force of which there can be no doubt), and as making it his first business on his accession to clear the court of its foulest abuses. (Cf. Mrs. Hutchinson’s account of Charles the First’s reforms, i. 127.) We must remember that no mistresses or children of Rufus are mentioned or hinted at. Orderic’s phrase of “mœchus rex” is quite vague, perhaps euphemistic, and when the Welsh chronicler (Ann. Camb. 1100) says that “concubinis usus, sine liberis obiit,” he may be sheltering himself under an ambiguous word. In the Chronicle of Hugh of Flavigny (Pertz, viii. 496) is a strange legend of what the writer truly calls “inauditum seculis omnibus monstrum,” but one which could not have been devised except in the state of things which William of Malmesbury and Eadmer describe. After all (see Hen. Hunt. vii. 32; N. C. vol. v. p. 195), the reform wrought by Henry seems to have been only for a season. It is some slight comfort to hear from the mouth of Anselm, in his first protest to the King (Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 24), that the presence of Eastern vices in England was something new—“noviter in hac terram divulgatum.”
Of the blasphemies of William Rufus several instances have been given in the text. He had also, like everybody else of his time, his own special oath. As his father swore “par la resplendar Dé,” as other kings swore “per oculos Dei,” “per pedes Dei,” “per dentes Dei,” William Rufus swears (“sic enim jurabat,” says William of Malmesbury, iv. 309) “per vultum Dei,” or more commonly “per vultum de Luca.” Some of the older writers oddly mistook this for an oath by Saint Luke’s face. But the true meaning of the “vultus de Luca” was long ago explained by Ducange under the word “vultus,” where he refers to the then manuscript “Otia Imperialia” of Gervase of Tilbury, iii. 24, which will be found in Leibnitz’s collection of Brunswick writers, i. 967. The “vultus Lucanus” was held to have been made by Nicodemus from the impression of our Lord’s face taken on linen immediately after the crucifixion. This it was by which the Red King swore. In French the oath takes the form “Li vo de Luche” (Roman de Rou, line 14920). M. Charles de Rémusat (St. Anselme de Cantorbéry, 133) remarks, “Il se peut même que ce ne soit pas précisément celui de Lucques; car on appela Saint Voult-de-Lucques, vulgairement et par corruption Saint Godeln, tout crucifix habillé semblable à celui-là tel que ceux qu’on voyait jadis à Saint-Etienne-de-Sens, au Sépulcre à Paris.” But it is strange that Lappenberg (Geschichte von England, ii. 172), when telling the story of the Red King’s “magnanimitas” before Saint Michael’s Mount (see p. 289 and Appendix N), brings in the oath “per vultum de Luca” in Wace’s story, where it is not found, in the form “bei dem heiligen Antlitz zu Lucca,” and afterwards in William of Malmesbury’s story in the form “bei St. Lucca’s Antlitz.”