The Official Position of Randolf Flambard.
The exact formal position held by Flambard under William Rufus has in some measure to be guessed at, as the rhetoric of our authorities sometimes veils such matters in rather vague language. Thus his biographer (Anglia Sacra, i. 706) describes him;
“Admixtus enim causis regaliorum negotiorum, cum esset acrioris ingenii et promptioris linguæ, brevi in tantum excrevit ut adepta apud regem familiaritas totius Angliæ potentes et natu quoque nobiliores illum superferret. Totius namque regni procurator constitutus, interdum insolentius accepta abutens potestate, cum negotiis regis pertinacius insisteret, plures offendere parvi pendebat. Quæ res multorum ei invidiam et odium contraxerat. Crebris accusationibus serenum animi regalis ei obnubilare, et locum familiaritatis conabantur interrumpere.”
Here we have a vague description of a position of great influence, without the bestowal of any official title whatever. Orderic (678 B), in first introducing him, comes somewhat nearer to a formal description;
“His temporibus quidam clericus nomine Rannulfus familiaritatem Rufi regis adeptus est, et super omnes regios officiales ingeniosis accusationibus et multifariis adulationibus magistratum a rege consecutus est.”
What then was the formal description of this office which set its holder above all other officers of the King? Lappenberg (ii. 168, p. 226 of the English translation) and Stubbs (Const. Hist. i. 347) both rule, and seemingly with good reason, that the office held by Flambard was really that of Justiciar. Official names were at this time still used so vaguely that it seems to be only in another passage of Orderic (786 C, see p. 559) that he is directly called so; but, as Lappenberg says, his office is distinctly marked by the words of the Chronicler (1099), when he says that the King “Rannulfe his capellane þæt biscoprice on Dunholme geaf þe æror ealle his gemot ofer eall Engleland draf and bewiste.” The same office seems to be meant when Florence (1100) says, “Cujus astutia et calliditas tam vehemens extitit, et parvo tempore adeo excrevit, ut placitatorem ac totius regni exactorem rex illum constitueret.” Henry of Huntingdon uses the same word, when (vii. 21, p. 232 ed. Arnold) he seems to be translating the entry in the Chronicle; “Anno illo [1099] rex Ranulfo placitatori sed perversori, exactori sed exustori, totius Angliæ, dedit episcopatum Dunhelme.” Florence himself, in his entry under the same year, calls him “Rannulfus, quem negotiorum totius regni exactorem constituerat.” (In 1094 he is “Rannulphus Passeflambardus.”) Dr. Stubbs (Const. Hist. i. 348) remarks that these “expressions recall the ancient identity of the gerefa with the exactor, and suggest that one part of the royal policy was to entrust the functions which had belonged to the præfectus or high steward to a clerk or creature of the court.” In the Gesta Pontificum (274) William of Malmesbury, like the Biographer, calls him “totius regni procurator;” in Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 20), he is more vaguely “Ranulfus regiæ voluntatis maximus executor.”
We have seen that Randolf Flambard was a priest (see above, p. 556), and he is spoken of in a marked way as the King’s chaplain. His biographer (Angl. Sac. i. 706) says that “propter quandam apud regem excellentiam, singulariter nominabatur capellanus regis.” And we have seen that he is so called in the Chronicle. The word is found in only one other place in the Chronicle, namely in 1114, where it is said of Thurstan Archbishop of York, “Se wæs æror þæs cynges capelein.” We must remember that, with all the Red King’s impiety and blasphemy, he seems never to have formally renounced the fellowship of Christians, as he was never formally cut off from it. But his choice of an immediate spiritual adviser is at least characteristic.
Some of the passages describing the administration of Flambard are of special importance. That given by William of Malmesbury (iv. 314) I have had occasion to quote piecemeal; but it may be well to give it as a whole;
“Accessit regiæ menti fomes cupiditatum, Ranulfus clericus, ex infimo genere hominum lingua et calliditate provectus ad summum. Is, si quando edictum regium processisset ut nominatum tributum Anglia penderet, duplum adjiciebat, expilator divitum, exterminator pauperum, confiscator alienarum hæreditatum. Invictus causidicus, et tum verbis tum rebus immodicus, juxta in supplices ut in rebelles furens; subinde cachinnantibus quibusdam ac dicentibus,” &c.
The last words of this extract are of special importance (see p. 332). Florence (1100) speaks to much the same effect; “Tanta potestate adepta, ubique locorum per Angliam ditiores ac locupletiores quosdam, rerum terrarumque ablatione, multavit, pauperiores autem gravi injustoque tributo incessanter oppressit, multisque modis, et ante episcopatum et in episcopatu, majores et minores communiter afflixit, et hoc usque ad regis ejusdem obitum.”
Orderic, in his second description (786 C), thus speaks of him;
“Hic nimirum de plebeia stirpe progressus Guillelmo Rufo admodum adulatus est, et machinationibus callidis illi favens super omnes regni optimates ab illo sublimatus est. Summus regiarum procurator opum et justitiarius factus est, et innumeris crudelitatibus frequenter exercitatis exosus, et pluribus terribilis factus est. Ipse vero contractis undique opibus, et ampliatis honoribus, nimis locupletatus est, et usque ad pontificale stemma, quamvis pene illiteratus esset, non merito religionis, sed potentia seculari provectus est. Sed quia mortalis vitæ potentia nulla longa est, interempto rege suo, ut veternus patriæ deprædator a novo rege incarceratus est.”
Henry imprisons him, he goes on to say, “pro multis enim injuriis, quibus ipsum Henricum aliosque regni filios, tam pauperes quam divites, vexaverat, multisque modis crebro afflictos irreverenter contristaverat.” The tradition of him in later times remained to the same effect, as we see by the description of him in Roger of Wendover (ii. 165), which is copied with some improvements by Matthew Paris (Hist. Angl. i. 182);
“Tenuit autem eo tempore rex in custodia Ranulphum, episcopum Dunelmensem, hominem perversum et ad omne scelus pronum et paratum, quem frater ejus rex Willelmus episcopum fecerat Dunelmensem et regni Angliæ apporriatorem et potius subversorem, nam vir fuit cavillosus. Qui cum regi jam dicto nimis fuisset familiaris, constituerat eum rex W[illelmus], quia quilibet sibi similes quærit questores, procuratorem suum in regno, ut evelleret, destrueret, raperet et disperderet, et omnia omnium bona ad fisci commodum comportaret.”
In this extract the “apporriator,” a queer word enough, but the meaning of which is plain, the “vir cavillosus,” and the “quæstores,” all come from Matthew’s own mint.
The Biographer of the Durham bishops has a story to tell of Flambard at this time of his life. Some of those who had suffered by his false accusations and his other devices, seemingly persons about the court, make a plan to get rid of him altogether. A certain Gerald undertakes the task. He meets the Chaplain—Flambard is so called in a marked way throughout the story—in London, and tells him a feigned tale that his old master Bishop Maurice is lying at the point of death in one of his houses on the banks of the Thames—Stepney perhaps; it cannot be Fulham (see Domesday, 127 b) as the story shows—and wishes greatly to see Flambard once more before he dies. He himself had been sent by the Bishop with a boat to bring him with the more speed. Flambard, suspecting no harm, enters the boat with a few followers. The boat goes down the river to a distance which puzzles the Chaplain, who is put off with false excuses. At last he sees a larger vessel anchored in the middle of the stream, and clearly waiting for his coming. He now understands the plot. He is carried into the ship, which he finds full of armed men. With admirable presence of mind, he drops his ring, and his notary (“notarius suus”) drops his seal (“sigillum illius”), into the middle of the river—somewhat after the manner of James the Second—that they may not be used to give currency to any forged documents (“ne per hæc ubique locorum per Angliam cognita, simulata præcepta hostibus decipientibus transmissa rerum perturbarent statum”). Then his men are allowed to go on shore, on taking an oath that they will tell no one that their lord has been carried off. The ship puts out to sea, and presently goes with full sail southward. The Chaplain sits in the stern, while the sailors debate what kind of death he shall die. Two sons of Belial are chosen, who, for the wages of the fine clothes which Flambard has on, will either throw him into the sea or brain him with clubs (“Eliguntur duo filii Belial, qui illum in fluctus projicerent, vel fracto fustibus cerebro enecarent, habituri pretium sceleris optimas quibus tunc indutus fuerat vestes”). The would-be murderers dispute who shall have his mantle, and this delay saves his life. By this time the wind changes; a storm comes from the south, night comes on, the ship is dashed about hither and thither; there is no hope save to try to go back in the direction by which they have come. At this point they again debate the question of Flambard’s death. There is now a fear lest he should escape and avenge the wrong done to him. But, as is usual in such stories, one was found who was of milder mood; his name is not given, but he held the place in the ship next after Gerald (“quidam secundus in navi a Geraldo tantum exhorrens scelus”). He is struck with remorse; he confesses his crime to Flambard, and says that, if he will grant him his pardon, he will do what he can for him and stand by him as his companion in life or death. Then Flambard, whose spirit we are told always rose with danger, speaks to Gerald in a loud voice; Gerald is his man, whose faith is pledged to him; he will not prosper if he ventures on such a crime as this (“Tunc ille, sicut magnanimus semper erat in periculis, ingenti clamore vociferans, quid tu, inquit, Geralde, cogitas? Quid de nobis machinaris? Homo meus es; fidem mihi debes; hanc violare non tibi cedet in prosperum”). He calls on him to give up his wicked purpose; let him name his reward, and he shall have it; he will give him his hand as a sign of his own good faith (“Pete quantum volueris. Ego sum qui plura petitis præstare potero; et ne discredas promissis, ecce manu affirmo quod polliceor”). Gerald, having less faith in his promises than fear of his power, agrees. He goes back to the haven, and receives Flambard in his own house near the shore (“Ille non tam promissis illectus, quam potentia viri exterritus, consentit, eductumque de navi jam in portum repulsa honorifico in sua domo quæ litori prominebat procuravit apparatu”). But, still not trusting Flambard, he took himself off for ever (“Nequaquam credulus promissorum fugæ præsidium iniens æterno disparuit exilio”). Flambard goes back to London with a great array (“Ranulphus vero accitis undique militibus multa armatorum manu grandique strepitu deducitur Lundoniam”). All are amazed to see him whom they had believed to be dead. He takes his old place in the King’s counsels; he rises higher in the King’s favour than ever, and no man dares to form any more schemes against him as long as the King lives.
There seems no reason why this story should not be true; true or false, it is characteristic. Just as in the later case of Thomas of London, we see the greatness to which men of the class of Randolf Flambard could rise—their wealth, power and splendour, their numerous and even knightly following. One is tempted to ask something more about Gerald the author of this daring plot against Flambard’s life. Except that he is said to have gone away for ever, one would be tempted to think that he must be the same as Gerard—the two names are easily confounded—afterwards Bishop of Hereford and Archbishop of York, a man seemingly of much the same class and disposition as Flambard himself, and who appears (see pp. 524, 543) as a ready instrument of the will of William Rufus.