Chapter IV · (continued 2)

Earl Hugh seeks help from Anselm in his reforms. 1092. At the time which we have now reached Earl Hugh was planning his supposed reforms at Saint Werburh’s. Designing to fill the minster with monks, he would have his monks from the place where the monastic life was most perfectly practised; the men who were to kindle a new light at Chester must come from Bec.[1061] It was in the end from Bec that the first abbot Richard and his brethren came to wage that strife which we are told was so specially hard-fought in that region.[1062] But the founder further wished the work to be done under the eye of the Abbot of Bec himself; so, trusting in his old friendship, Earl Hugh prayed Anselm to come to him. His prayer was backed by that of other nobles of England;[1063] the monks of Bec too deemed that either the affairs of Saint Werburh’s or some other business of the monastery called for their abbot’s presence in England.[1064] Anselm refuses to go. But Anselm at 383 first steadily refused to go; the general rumour had reached his own ears; he had been told that, if he went to England, he would certainly become Archbishop of Canterbury. His motives. He shrank from the acceptance of such an office; he shrank yet more from doing anything which might even have the look of seeking for such an office. It might be a question of casuistry whether the command of Maurilius to accept any preferment that might be offered could have any force beyond the life and the province of Maurilius; yet that command may have made Anselm yet more determined to keep out of the way of all danger of having the see of Canterbury offered to him. He refused to go to England, when it was possible that his object in going might be cruelly misconstrued.[1065] Hugh’s sickness and second message. Another message came, announcing that Earl Hugh was smitten with grievous sickness, and needed the spiritual help of his friend. Moreover Anselm need not be afraid; there was nothing in the rumours which he had heard; he stood in no danger of the archbishopric.[1066] In this Hugh most likely spoke the truth. Others had brought themselves to believe that there must soon be an archbishop, and that that archbishop must be Anselm. But they had no ground for thinking that anything of the kind would happen, except that it was the best thing that could happen. The Earl of Chester was as likely as any man except Flambard to know the King’s real mind; and what followed makes it plain that as yet Rufus had no thought of filling the archbishopric at all. The third message. Still Anselm would not go till a third message from the Earl appealed 384 to another motive. It would not be for the soul’s health of Anselm himself if he stayed away when his friend so deeply needed his help.[1067] To this argument Anselm yielded; for the sake of friendship and of his friend’s spiritual welfare, he would go, let men say what they would about his motives for going.[1068]

He is bidden to go by his monks. But the invitation of Earl Hugh was not Anselm’s only motive for his journey. Another cause was added which a little startles us. The business of the abbey in England, business to be done with the King, still called for the abbot’s presence there. The monks sought to have the royal exactions on their English lands made less heavy.[1069] At this moment Anselm was not at Bec; he was spending some days at Boulogne with his friend and correspondent Countess Ida.[1070] While there, he received a message from Bec, bidding him, by virtue of the law of obedience, not to come back to the abbey till he had gone into England and looked after the matters about which he was needed there.[1071] Such a message as this from monks to their abbot sounds to 385 us like a reversal of all monastic order; but it seems to have been held that, while each monk undoubtedly owed obedience to the abbot, the abbot himself owed obedience to the general vote of the convent. To these two influences, the law of obedience and care for Earl Hugh’s soul, Anselm at last yielded. He set sail from Boulogne or Whitsand, and landed at Dover. Anselm goes to England. He was now within what was presently to be his own province, his own diocese; and that province he was not again to leave till he sought shelter on the mainland in the character of archbishop and confessor.

The immediate business of Anselm led him to Chester, and to the place, wherever it was, where the King was to be found. We are told that he made the best of his way to his sick friend,[1072] who was so eager for Anselm’s coming that he despised all other spiritual help.[1073] But it is plain that he tarried on the road to see the King. From Dover his first stage was Canterbury. Anselm at Canterbury. September 8, 1092. There he was alarmed by the welcome given him by a crowd of monks and laymen who hailed him as their future archbishop. It was a high festival, the Nativity of our Lady; but Anselm, wishing to give no encouragement to such greetings as he had just received, declined to officiate at the celebration of the feast. He tarried but one night in the city, and left it early the next morning.[1074] His first interview with Rufus. He then went to the King. The reception which he met with showed that Rufus must have been for the moment in one of his better moods. Anselm indeed was a chosen friend of his father, 386 and he had given him no personal offence. As soon as the approach of the Abbot of Bec was announced, the King arose, met him at the door, exchanged the kiss of peace, and led him by the hand to his seat.[1075] A friendly discourse followed. Perhaps the very friendliness of William’s greeting brought it more fully home to Anselm’s mind that it would be a failure of duty on his own part if he spoke only of the worldly affairs of his abbey. Anselm’s rebuke of the King. He must seize the moment to give a word of warning to a sinner whose evil deeds were so black, and who disgraced at the same time so lofty an office and such high natural gifts. Anselm asked that all others might withdraw; he wished for a private interview with the King. The affairs of the house of Bec were, for the moment at least, passed by; the welfare of the kingdom of England, and the soul’s health of its king, were objects which came first. Anselm told Rufus in plain words that the men of his kingdom, both secretly and openly, daily said things of him which in no way became his kingly office.[1076] From later appeals of Anselm to the conscience of Rufus, we may conceive that this general description took in at once the special wrongs done to the Church, the general abuses of William’s government, and the personal excesses of William’s own life. Anselm was not the man to hold his peace on any one of those three subjects; but we have no details of Anselm’s discourse from his own biographer, nor does he give us any notice of the way in which William received his rebuke.[1077] Yet it would seem 387 that the milder mood of the Red King had not wholly passed away. If Anselm had been thrust aside with any violent or sarcastic answer, it would surely have passed into one of the stock anecdotes of the reign. Our only other description of the scene paints Rufus as held back from any disrespectful treatment of Anselm by a lingering reverence for the friend of his parents. He turned the matter off with a laugh. He could not hinder what men chose to say of him; but so holy a man as Anselm ought not to believe such stories.[1078] It is not even clear whether Anselm brought himself to speak at all on the particular business which had brought him to the King’s presence. Settlement of the affairs of Bec. King and Abbot parted; it would seem that nothing was done about the affairs of Bec for the present; but we may gather that, at some later time, the lands of the monastery were relieved from the burthens of which they complained.[1079]

Anselm at Chester. Anselm now went on to Chester, where he found his friend Earl Hugh restored to health. But the change in the foundation at Saint Werburh’s still needed his presence, and the special affairs of his own house had also 388 to be looked to. Between these two sets of affairs, Anselm was kept in England for five months. The King refuses him leave to go back. February, 1093. He then wished to go back to Normandy; but the King’s leave, it seems, was needed, and the King’s leave was refused.[1080]

This refusal is worth notice. It does not seem to have been done in enmity; at least it was not followed by any kind of further wrong-doing on the King’s part towards Anselm. William’s feeling towards Anselm. It really looks as if William had, not indeed any fixed purpose of appointing Anselm to the archbishopric, but a kind of feeling that he might be driven to appoint him, a feeling that things might come to a stage in which he could not help naming some archbishop, and that, if it came to that stage, he could not help naming Anselm. It is plain from what follows that the thought of Anselm as a possible archbishop was in the King’s mind as well as in the minds of others. But certainly no offer or hint was at this stage made by William, nor was anything said to Anselm about the matter by any one else.[1081] Men no doubt knew Anselm’s feelings, and avoided the subject. But at one point during these five months the vacancy of the archbishopric was brought very strongly before Anselm’s mind, though Christmas Assembly, 1092–1093.not in a way which suggested his own appointment rather than that of anybody else. When the Midwinter Gemót of this year was held, the long vacancy, and the evils which flowed from it, The vacancy discussed by the Witan. became a matter of discussion among the assembled Witan. But they did not venture to attempt any election, or even to make any suggestion of their own; they did not even make any 389 direct petition to the King to put an end to the vacancy. Petition of the Assembly to the King. A resolution was passed—​our contemporary guide doubted whether future ages would believe the fact—​that the King should be humbly petitioned to allow prayers to be put up throughout the churches of England craving that God would by his inspiration move the King’s heart to put an end to the wrongs of his head church and of all his other churches by the appointment of a worthy chief pastor.[1082] We thus see that the power of ending or prolonging the vacancy is acknowledged to rest only with the King; it is not for the Witan to constrain, but only for God to guide, the royal will. But we further see that the right of ordaining religious ceremonies is held to rest with the King and his Witan, just as it had rested in the days of Cnut.[1083] The unanimous petition of the Assembly was laid before the King. He was somewhat angry, but he took no violent step. He agreed to the matter of the address, but in a scornful shape. Prayers for the appointment of an archbishop. “Pray as you will; I shall do as I think good; no man’s prayers will do anything to shake my will.”[1084] To draw up a proper form of prayer was the natural business of the bishops; and they had among them one specially skilled in such matters in the person of Osmund of Salisbury. But they all agreed to consult the Abbot of Bec, and to ask him to 390 draw up a prayer fitted for the purpose. Anselm draws up a form of prayer. Anselm, after much pressing, agreed; he drew up the prayer; it was laid before the Assembly, and his work was approved by all.[1085] The Gemót broke up, and prayers were offered throughout England, according to Anselm’s model, for the appointment of an archbishop, a prayer which on most lips doubtless meant the appointment of Anselm himself.[1086]

The year 1093. Before the Assembly broke up, a memorable year had begun. It is a year crowded with events, with the deaths of memorable men, with one death above all which led to most important results on the relations between the two great parts of the isle of Britain. With these events I shall deal in another chapter; we have now mainly to trace the ecclesiastical character of the year as the greatest of all stages in the career of Anselm. The Assembly had doubtless been held at Gloucester, and, after the session was over, the King tarried in the neighbourhood, at the royal house of Alvestone, once a lordship of Earl Harold.[1087] William’s sickness at Alvestone. There he was smitten with a heavy sickness. The tale has a legendary sound; yet there is nothing really incredible in the story that he fell sick directly after he had been guilty of a mocking speech about Anselm. Discourse about Anselm before the King. Some nobles were with the King at Alvestone, and one of them spoke of the virtues of the Abbot of Bec. He was a man who loved God only, and sought for none of the things of this world. The King says in mockery, “Not for the archbishopric of Canterbury?” The remark at least shows that Anselm and the 391 archbishopric went together in the King’s thoughts as well as in the thoughts of other men.[1088] The King’s mockery. The lord who had spoken answered that, in his belief and in that of many others, the archbishopric was the very thing which Anselm least wished for.[1089] The King laughed again, and said that, if Anselm had any hope of the archbishopric, he would clap his hands and stamp with his feet, and run into the King’s arms. But he added, “By the face of Lucca, he and every other man who seeks the archbishopric may this time give way to me; for I will be archbishop myself.”[1090] He repeated the jest several times. He falls sick and is moved to Gloucester. Presently sickness came upon him, and, in a few hours, he took to his bed. He was carried in haste from Alvestone to the neighbouring city, where he could doubtless find better quarters and attendance.[1091] He lay sick during the whole of Lent; Ash Wednesday, March 2, 1093.but, unless his sickness began somewhat earlier, the whole of the events with which we have to deal must have been crowded into the first few days of the penitential season. At all events, during the first week of Lent, William Rufus was lying at Gloucester, 392 sick of a sickness which both himself and others deemed to be unto death.[1092]

Repentance of Rufus. The heart of the Red King was not yet wholly hardened; with sickness came repentance. Believing himself to be at the gates of the next world, his conscience awoke, and he saw in their true light the deeds which he had been so long doing in this world. He no longer jested at his own crimes and vices; he bemoaned them and began to think of amendment. The great men of the realm, bishops, abbots, and lay nobles, pressed around his sick bed, looking for his speedy death, and urging him to make what atonement he could for his misdeeds, while he yet lived. Advice of the prelates and nobles. Let him throw open his prisons; let him set free his captives; let him loose those who were in chains; let him forgive his debtors—​it is again assumed that a debt to the Crown must be a wrongful debt—​let him provide pastors for the churches which he holds in his hands; above all, let him set free the head church of all, the church of Canterbury, whose bondage was the most crying wrong of his kingdom.[1093] All this they pressed, each to the best of his power, on the no longer unwilling mind of the King. It bethought them moreover that there was one not far off, who was more skilled than any of them in healing the diseases of the soul, and whose words would 393 strike deeper into the heart of the penitent than the words of any other. Anselm sent for. The Abbot of Bec was still in England; he was even, knowing nothing of what was going on, tarrying at no great distance from Gloucester.[1094] A messenger was sent, bidding him come with all speed; the King was dying, and needed his spiritual help before all was over. Anselm and Rufus. Anselm came at once; he asked what had passed between the sick man and his directors, and he fully approved of all the counsel that they had given to the repentant sinner.[1095] The duties of confession, of amendment, of reparation, the full and speedy carrying out of all that his advisers had pressed upon him, was the only means, the only hope. By the general voice of all, Anselm was bidden to undertake the duty of making yet another exhortation to the royal penitent. Anselm spoke, and William hearkened. He more than hearkened; he answered, and for the moment he acted. Rufus promises amendment. He accepted all that Anselm told him; he promised to amend his ways, to rule his kingdom in mildness and righteousness. To this he pledged his faith; he made the bishops his sureties, and bade them renew the promise in his name to God before the altar.[1096] His proclamation. More practical still, a proclamation was put forth under the royal seal, promising to the people, in the old form, good 394 laws, strict heed to right, strict examination into wrong. The vacant churches should be filled, and their revenues should be restored to them. The King would no longer sell them or set them to farm. All prisoners should be set free; all debts to the crown should be forgiven; all offences against the King should be pardoned, and all suits begun in the King’s name stopped.[1097] General satisfaction. Great was the joy through the land; a burst of loyal thankfulness was in every heart and on every mouth. The rule of King William was henceforth to be as the rule of the best of the kings who had gone before him. Thanksgivings went up to God through the whole land, and earnest prayers for the welfare of so great and so good a king.[1098]

This was the second time that the people of England had greedily swallowed the promises of the Red King. He had already deceived them once; but kings are easily trusted, and the awful circumstances under which reform was now promised might well lead men to believe that the promise was sincere. Beginnings of reform. Sincere for the moment it doubtless was; nor did the proclamation remain altogether a dead letter. The reforms were actually begun; some at least of the prisoners were set free. William 395 also now made grants to some monasteries,[1099] and, what was more important than all, he filled the vacant bishoprics. He grants the bishopric of Lincoln to Robert Bloet. The fame of one of the two appointments so fills the pages of our guides that we might easily forget that it was now that the staff of Remigius was given to Robert Bloet.[1100] We have heard of him already as an old servant of William the Great, and as trusted by him with the weighty letter which ruled the succession of the crown on behalf of William the Red.[1101] He was now the King’s Chancellor. He bears a doubtful character; he was not a scholar, but he was a man skilful in all worldly business; he was not a saint, but he was perhaps not the extreme sinner which some have painted him.[1102] His consecration was put off for nearly a year; and we shall meet him again in the midst of a striking and busy scene when the next year has begun. For the present we need only remember that two bishops, and not one only, were invested, according to the ancient use of England, by the royal hand at the bedside of William Rufus.

We may take for granted that it took no such struggle to change the King’s Chancellor into the Bishop-elect of Lincoln as it took to change the man on whom all eyes were now fixed into an Archbishop-elect of Canterbury. March 6, 1093. It was now a Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent; a gathering of bishops and other chief men stood around the King who was believed to be dying. He had solemnly repented; he must now make restitution. The 396 best men among those who stood around him pressed yet more strongly on his mind the duty of at once filling the metropolitan see. The sick man answered that such was his purpose. They asked whom he deemed worthy of such a post; none dared suggest any name; the choice rested wholly with the royal will.[1103] Rufus names Anselm to the archbishopric. The King made an effort; he sat up in his bed; he pointed out the Abbot of Bec among those who filled the room, and spake the words; “I choose this holy man Anselm.”[1104] The feeling which now bids men to listen in silence to the official utterances of royal lips was then unheard of; even the fear of danger to the sick man General delight. yielded to the universal joy; a loud shout of applause rang through the chamber which was soon, as men deemed, to be the chamber of death. One man alone joined not in the shout; one man grew pale and trembled in every limb. The moment so long dreaded had at last come; the burthen from which he shrank was at last to be forced on the shoulders of the struggling abbot. For in the case of Anselm the struggle was no metaphor. Unwillingness of Anselm. He was dragged to the King’s bedside to receive the investiture[1105]—​no thought of the elective rights of the monks of distant Christ Church seems to have come into the head of any man. Pouring out reasons against his own appointment, Anselm withstood by main force all efforts to 397 drag him nearer to the King. The bishops at last succeeded in drawing him apart from the crowd, and began Arguments of the bishops. to argue with him more quietly.[1106] They warned him not to withstand the will of God, or to refuse the work to which he was called. He saw that Christianity had almost died out in England; everything had fallen into confusion; every abomination was rife. One bolder voice—​was it the voice of English Wulfstan or of Norman Gundulf?—​added words such as are not often uttered in the chamber of a king, and which even then perhaps were not meant to reach kingly ears. “By the tyranny of that man”[1107]—​pointing to the sick king on his bed—​“we and the churches which we ought to rule have fallen into danger of eternal death; wilt thou, when thou canst help us, scorn our petition?” The appeal went on; Anselm was told how the church of Canterbury, in whose oppression all were oppressed, called to him to raise up her and them; could he, casting aside all thought for her freedom, all thought for the help of his brethren, refuse to share their work, and seek only his own ease? Anselm pleaded at length; he was old; he was unused to worldly affairs. He prayed to be allowed to abide in the peaceful calling which he loved. The bishops all the more called on him to take the rule over them which was offered to him; let him guide them in the way of God; let him pray to God for them, and they would manage all worldly affairs for him.[1108] He then pleaded that he was the subject of another realm;[1109] he owed obedience to his own prince, to his own archbishop; he could not cast off his duty to them without 398 their leave; nay, he could not, without the consent of his own monks, cast off the duties which he owed to them. The bishops told him that the consent of all concerned would be easily gained. He protested that all that they did, all that they purposed, was nought.[1110]

Anselm dragged to the King’s bedside. The bishops had certainly the better in the argument; they had also the better in the physical struggle; for they now dragged Anselm close to the King’s bedside. They set forth to Rufus what they called the obstinacy of the Abbot;[1111] it was for the King to try what his personal authority could do. The sick man, lately so proud and scornful, was stirred even to tears; he made a speech far longer than his wont, but which seems to carry with it the stamp of genuineness. He had raised himself to speak his formal choice with a voice of authority; he now spoke, in plaintive and beseeching words, in the ear of the holy man beside him. In the mind of Rufus at that moment it was his own personal salvation that was at stake. Pleadings of the King. “O Anselm,” he whispered, “why do you condemn me to eternal torments? Remember, I pray you, the faithful friendship which my father and my mother had to you and which you had to them; by that friendship I adjure you not to let their son perish both in body and soul. For I am sure that I shall perish if I die while I still have the archbishopric in my hands.[1112] Help me then, help me, lord and father; take the bishopric for the holding of which I am already greatly confounded, and fear that I shall be confounded for ever.” Still Anselm drew back and excused himself. Then the 399 bishops again took up their parable in a stronger tone. Further pleadings of the bishops What madness had possessed him? He was harassing the King, almost killing him; his last moments were embittered by Anselm’s obstinacy.[1113] They gave him to know that whatever disturbances, oppressions, and crimes, might hereafter disturb England would all lie at his door, if he did not stop them that day by taking on him the pastoral care. Still—​so he himself witnessed afterwards—​wishing rather, if it were God’s will, to die than to take on him the archbishopric, he turned to two of his own monks who had come with him, Eustace and Baldwin of Tournay, and asked them to help him.[1114] Baldwin answered, and of his own monks. “If it be the will of God that it shall be so, who are we that we should withstand the will of God?” His words were followed by a flood of tears, his tears by a gush of blood from his nostrils. Anselm, surely half-smiling, said, “Alas, how soon is your staff broken.” The King then, seeing that nothing was gained, bade the bishops fall at Anselm’s feet and implore him to take the see. A like scene had been gone through at Bec when it was first sought to raise Anselm to the abbacy.[1115] The bishops fell at his feet, and implored; Anselm fell at their feet, and implored back again. There was nothing to be done save the last shift of, so to speak, investing him with the bishopric by physical force. He is invested by main force. A cry was raised for a pastoral staff; the staff was brought, and was placed in the sick king’s hand.[1116] The bishops seized the right arm of Anselm; some pushed; some pulled; he was forced close up to 400 the Kings bed. The King held out the staff; the Abbot, though his arm was stretched out against his will, held his hand firmly clenched. The bishops strove to force open his fingers, till he shrieked with the pain. After much striving, they managed to raise his forefinger, to place the staff between that one finger and his still closed hand, and to keep it there with their own hands.[1117] This piece of sheer violence was held to be a lawful investiture. The assembled crowd—​we are still in the sick king’s room—​began to shout “Long live the Bishop.” The bishops and clergy began to sing Te Deum with a loud voice.[1118] He is installed in the church. Then the bishops, abbots, and nobles, seized Anselm, and carried rather than led him into a neighbouring church—​was it the great minster of Ealdred or its successor growing up under the hands of Serlo?[1119]—​while he still refused and struggled and protested that all that they did went for nothing.[1120] A looker-on, Anselm himself says, might have doubted whether a crowd in their right mind were dragging a single madman, or whether a crowd of madmen were dragging a single man who kept his right mind.[1121] Anyhow they reached the church and there went through the ceremonies which 401 were usual on such occasions.[1122] Anselm was now deemed to have become, however much against his own will, Archbishop-elect of Canterbury.

Anselm’s renewed protest. From the church Anselm went back to the King’s chamber. He there renewed his protest against the appointment, but he renewed it in the form of a prophecy. “My lord the King, I tell you that you will not die of this sickness; I would therefore have you know how easily you can undo what has been this day done with regard to me, as I never agreed, nor do I agree, that it shall be held valid.”[1123] He then left the sick room, and spoke to the bishops and nobles in some other place, perhaps the hall of the castle. Whether formally summoned as such or not, they were practically a Gemót of the realm.[1124] His parable to the prelates and nobles. Anselm spoke to them in a parable, founded on the apostolic figure which speaks of the Church as God’s husbandry.[1125] In England the plough of the Church ought to be drawn by two chief oxen of equal strength, each pulling with the same good will. These were the King and the Archbishop of Canterbury, one ruling by worldly justice and dominion, the other by divine doctrine and teaching. So, he implies, it had been in the days of William the Great and of Lanfranc his yoke-fellow.[1126] The figure is one which will bear much study. It is perhaps in England 402 alone that it could have been used. Its special fitness in England. In the highest rank of all, used to the loftier metaphors of the two great lights of heaven and the two swords on earth, figures drawn from ploughs and oxen might have seemed unworthy of the supreme majesty of the Roman Emperor and the Roman Pontiff. In other lands the metaphor would have failed from another side. The Primate of Rheims or of Rouen could hardly be spoken of as in the same sort the yoke-fellow of the French King or the Norman Duke. In England the parable had more truth. It set forth at once the supreme ecclesiastical authority of the King, and the check which ancient custom put on that authority in the shape of an archiepiscopal tribune of the people. But the happy partnership of the two powers had come to an end. The strong ox Lanfranc was dead. His surviving yoke-fellow was a young and untameable wild bull.[1127] With him they wished to yoke an old and feeble sheep, who might perhaps furnish them with the wool and milk of the Lord’s word, and with lambs for His service,[1128] but who was utterly unequal to the task of pulling in fellowship with such a comrade. His weakness and the King’s fierceness could never work together. If they would only think over the matter, they would give up the attempt which they had begun. The joy with which they had hailed his nomination would be turned into sorrow. They talked of his raising up the Church from widowhood; if they insisted on forcing him into the see, the Church would be thrust 403 down into a yet deeper widowhood, widowhood during the life of her pastor. He himself would be the first victim; none of them would dare to give him help, and then the King would trample them too under his feet at pleasure. He then burst into tears; he parted from the assembly, and went to his own quarters, whether in the city of Gloucester or at the unnamed place where he had before been staying.[1129] The King orders the restitution of the lands of the see. The King, foreseeing no further difficulties, gave orders that steps should be taken for investing him without delay with the temporal possessions of the see.[1130] But a whole train of unlooked-for hindrances appeared before Anselm could be put into possession of either the temporal or the spiritual powers of Lanfranc.

The royal right of investiture not questioned. At this first stage of the story, as at every other, as long as the scene is laid in England, we are struck in the strongest way by the fact that every one concerned takes the ancient customs of England for granted. If those customs have changed from what they may have been under Cnut or Eadward, they have at least not changed to the advantage of the Roman see, or indeed of the ecclesiastical power in any shape. Hildebrand has no followers either in England or in Normandy. No one has called in question the right either of the King of the English or of the Duke of the Normans to invest the prelates of his dominions with the pastoral staff. No scruples on the part of Anselm. There is not one word in the whole story implying that any one had any scruple on the subject. Anselm clearly had none. He had received 404 the staff of Bec from the Duke; if he was not ready to receive the staff of Canterbury from the King, it was not because of any scruple as to the mode of appointment, but because he refused to accept the appointment itself, however made. Not a single English bishop has a word to say on the matter. We could not look for such scruples in Wulfstan who had received his staff from the holy Eadward; but neither do they trouble William of Saint-Calais, so lately the zealous champion of the rights of Rome. If anything, the bishops seem to attribute a kind of mystic and almost sacramental efficacy to the investiture by the King’s hand. No ecclesiastical election. Nor is there a word said as to the rights of any ecclesiastical electors, the monks of Christ Church or any other. It is taken for granted that the whole matter rests with the King. Anselm protests against the validity of the act, but not on any ground which assumed any other elector than the King. The nomination was invalid, because he did not consent to it himself, because the Duke of the Normans, the Archbishop of Rouen, and the monks of Bec, had not consented to it. Anselm is very careful as to the rights of all these three; he has not a word to say about the rights of the monks of Christ Church. Had he been a subject of the crown of England, a bishop or presbyter of the province of Canterbury, and himself willing to accept the archbishopric, there would clearly have been in his eyes nothing irregular in his accepting it in the form in which it was forced upon him, by the sole choice and sole investiture of the King. Later change in Anselm’s views. He afterwards learned to think otherwise; but it was neither at Canterbury nor at Bec nor at Aosta that he learned such scruples. He had to go beyond English, Norman, and Burgundian ground to look for them. At present he does at every stage, as an ordinary matter of 405 course, something which his later lights would have led him to condemn. Gundulf’s letter to the monks of Bec. But it certainly does seem strange when Bishop Gundulf of Rochester, in a letter to his old companions the monks of Bec, tells them that the King had given the government of the church of Canterbury to their abbot Anselm, by the advice and request of his great men and by the petition and election of the clergy and people.[1131] We have often come across such phrases;[1132] and this case, where we know every detail, may help us to estimate their meaning in some other cases. That Anselm’s appointment had been the general wish of all classes before it was made, that it received the general approval of all classes after it was made, there is no manner of doubt. But there is no sign of any formal advice, petition, or election, by any class of men at any stage. It may be that the ceremony in the church at Gloucester was held to pass for an election by the clergy and people. But that was after the King had, by the delivery of the staff, given to Anselm the government of the church of Canterbury. Sole action of the King. Even in Gundulf’s formula, the advice, petition, and election are mere helps to guide the King’s choice; it is the King who actually bestows the see. And here again, of the rights of the monks of the metropolitan church there is not a word.

Several months passed after this amazing scene at Gloucester before Anselm was fully admitted to the full possession of the archbishopric. He had not yet given any consent himself, and the consents of the Norman 406 Duke, the Norman Archbishop, and the Norman monks, on all of which Anselm laid such stress, were still to be sought for. Anselm tarries with Gundulf. The King sent messengers to all of them, and meanwhile Anselm was, by the King’s order, lodged on some of the archiepiscopal manors under the care of his old friend Bishop Gundulf.[1133] One may suspect that it was the influence of this prelate, a good man plainly, but not very stout-hearted, and more ready than Anselm to adapt himself to the ruling powers, which brought Anselm to the belief that he ought to give way to what he himself calls the choice of all England, and which he now allows to be the will of God. At any rate Anselm brought himself to write letters to the monks of Bec, asking their consent to his resignation of the abbey and acceptance of the archbishopric.[1134] Consent of the Duke, the Archbishop of Rouen, and the monks of Bec. For it was with the monks of Bec that the difficulty lay; Duke Robert and Archbishop William seem to have made no objection.[1135] It was, after much hesitation, and by a narrow majority only that the convent agreed to part with the abbot who had brought such honour upon their house.[1136] In the end all the needful consents were given. Anselm was free from all obligations beyond the sea. But he still had not given his own formal consent to the acceptance of the archbishopric. A long series of acts, temporal and spiritual, were needed to change the simple monk and presbyter, as he was now once more, into an Archbishop of Canterbury, clothed with the full powers and possessions of the Patriarch of all the nations beyond the sea. Those acts needed the consent, some of them needed the personal action, of the King. And 407 King William the Red was now again quite another man from what he had been when he lay on his sick bed at Gloucester.

The King’s recovery. The King’s sickness is said to have lasted during the whole of Lent; but he seems to have been restored to health early enough to hold the Easter Gemót at Winchester.[1137] Anselm was there, in company with his guardian The Easter Gemót. 1093.Bishop Gundulf and his friend Baldwin the monk of Bec; but there is no mention of any business being done between him and the King. Doubtless the needful letters had not yet come from Normandy, even if Anselm had so soon brought himself to write those which were needful on his own part. By this time William was again in full health, and, with his former state of body, his former state of mind had also come back. William falls back into evil ways. He had repented of his repentance; he had fallen back into all his old evil courses with more eagerness than ever. All the wrong that he had done before he fell sick was deemed to be a small matter compared with the wrong which he did after he was restored to health.[1138] It is to this stage of his life that one of the most hideous of his blasphemous sayings is assigned. His renewed blasphemy. Instead of thankfulness for his renewed health, he looked on his sickness as a wrong done to him by his Maker, for which he would in some way have his revenge. It was now that he told Bishop Gundulf, whom we can fancy faintly exhorting him to keep in the good frame of mind which he had put on while he lay on his sick bed—​“God shall never see me a good man; I have suffered too much at his 408 hands.”[1139] And his practice was such as became the fool who said that there was no God, or rather the deeper fool who said that there was a God, and yet defied him. He recalls his acts of mercy. He even went on to undo, as far as lay in his power, the good works which he had done during his momentary repentance. Some of the prisoners to whom he had promised deliverance were already set free, and some of those who were set free had taken themselves beyond his reach. But those who were still in safe-keeping were kept in yet harsher bondage than before; and of those who had been set free as many as could be laid hold of were sent back to their prisons. The pardons, the remissions of debts, which had been put forth were recalled. Every man who had been held liable before the King’s sickness was held liable again. His gifts to monasteries were also recalled.[1140] But one thing which William had promised to do he remained as fully minded to do as before. He keeps his purpose as to Anselm. At no stage did he show the slightest purpose of recalling his grant of the archbishopric to Anselm. This distinction is quite in harmony with the general character of William Rufus. The reforms which he had promised, and which he had partly carried out, were part of the ordinary duty of a man in that state of life to which William had been called, the state of a king. As such, they were reckoned by him among those promises which 409 it was beyond his power to fulfil. But his engagement to Anselm was of another kind. To say nothing of Anselm being the old friend of his father, his engagement to him was strictly personal. If it was not exactly done in the character of a good knight, it was done as the act of a man to a man. It was like a safe-conduct; it touched, not so much William’s kingly duty as his personal honour. William’s honour did not keep him back from annoying and insulting Anselm, or from haggling with him about money in a manner worthy of the chivalrous Richard himself. But it did keep him back from any attempt to undo his own personal act and promise. He had prayed Anselm to take the archbishopric; he had forced the staff, as far as might be, into Anselm’s unwilling hand. From that act he would not draw back, though he was quite ready to get any advantage for himself that might be had in the way of carrying it out.

Events of March-December, 1093. But we must not fancy that the affairs of Anselm and of the see to which he had been so strangely called were the only matters which occupied the mind of England during this memorable year. The months which passed between the first nomination of Anselm and his consecration to the archbishopric, that is, the months from March to December, were a busy time in affairs of quite another kind than the appointment of pastors of the Church. The events of those months chiefly concerned the relations of England to the other parts of the island, Welsh and Scottish, and I shall speak of them at length in another chapter. Affairs of England and Wales. Here it is enough to say that the very week of the Easter Gemót was marked by striking events in Wales,[1141] and that during the whole 410 time from March to August, negotiations were going on between William and Malcolm of Scotland. In August Dealings between William and Malcolm. Malcolm came personally to Gloucester, but William refused to see him. Malcolm then went home in wrath, and took his revenge in a fifth and last invasion of England, in the course of which he was killed near Alnwick in the month of November. By that time Anselm was already enthroned, but not yet consecrated. The main telling of the two stories must be kept apart; but it is well always to keep the joint chronology of the two in mind. In reading the Lives of Anselm, where secular affairs are mentioned only casually, we might sometimes forget how stirring a time the year of Anselm’s appointment was in other ways; while the general writers of the time, as I have already noticed,[1142] tell us less about Anselm than we should have looked for. The affairs of Scotland and the affairs of Anselm were going on at the same time; and along with them a third chain of affairs must have begun of which we shall hear much in the next year. Designs of Rufus on Normandy. Rufus was by this time already planning a second attack on his brother in Normandy. Except during the short season of his penitence, he was doubtless ready for such an enterprise at any moment. And this same year, seemingly in the course of its summer, a special tempter came over from beyond sea. Action of William of Eu. This was William of Eu, of whom we have already heard as the King’s enemy and of whom we shall hear again in the same character, but who just now appears as the King’s counsellor. As the owner of vast English estates, he had played a leading part in the first rebellion against William, with the object of uniting England and Normandy under a single prince.[1143] That object he still sought; but he now sought to gain it by other means. He had learned which of 411 the brothers was the more useful master to serve. His divided allegiance. He was now, by the death of his father, Count of Eu, and Eu was among the parts of Normandy which Robert had yielded to William.[1144] For Eu then Count William was the man of King William; but he was still the man of Duke Robert for some other parts of his possessions. He suggests an attack on Normandy. He thought it his interest to serve one lord only; he accordingly threw off his allegiance to Robert, and came over to England to stir up William to take possession of the whole duchy.[1145] And it must surely have been in connexion with these affairs that, at some time between March and September, William and Robert Count of Flanders. William had an interview with Count Robert of Flanders at Dover. By this description we are doubtless to understand the elder Count Robert, the famous Frisian, of whom we have already heard as an enemy to the elder William,[1146] but who must now have been at least on terms of peace with his son. Death of Count Robert. October 4 or 13, 1093. He was drawing near the end of his life, a memorable life, nearly the last act of which had been honourable indeed. He had, several years before the preaching of the crusade, sent a body of the choicest warriors of Flanders to defend Eastern Christendom against the Turk.[1147] Robert died in October of this year, and was succeeded by his 412 Robert of Jerusalem. son Robert of Jerusalem,[1148] a name which the father had an equal right to bear. The younger Robert had been associated by his father in the government of the county; but one may suppose that, when our guide speaks of Robert Count of Flanders, it is the elder Robert who is meant. He was the enemy of the elder William rather in his Norman than in his English character, and his enmity may have passed to his successor in the duchy and not to his successor in the kingdom. Relation between William and the Flemish Counts. One can hardly help thinking that this meeting of William of England and Robert of Flanders had some reference to joint operations designed against Robert of Normandy. But, if so, the alliance was put an end to by the death of Robert the Frisian, and, when the time for his Norman enterprise came, William had to carry it on without Flemish help.

Interview between Anselm and the King at Rochester. By this time Anselm had received the letters from Normandy which were to make him free to accept the archbishopric; but the letters to the King from the same parties had not yet come. At this stage then Anselm wished for an interview with the King, the first—​unless they met at Easter at Winchester—​since they had parted in the sick room at Gloucester. William was on his way back from his meeting with the Count of Flanders at Dover; he came to Rochester, where Anselm was then staying with Bishop Gundulf. There Anselm took the King aside, and laid the case before him as it then stood.

Anselm’s position. Anselm was at this moment, in his own view, a private man. He was no longer Abbot of Bec. His monks had released him from that office, and he had formally 413 resigned it by sending back to them the pastoral staff.[1149] He was not yet Archbishop of Canterbury; he was not yet, in his own view, even Archbishop-elect; all that had been done at Gloucester he counted for null and void. But he was now free to accept the archbishopric, and, though he still did not wish for the post, he had got over the scruples which had before led him to refuse it. In such a case he deemed it his duty to be perfectly frank with the King, and to tell him on what terms only he would accept the primacy, if the King still persisted in offering it to him.

His conditions with the King. The conditions which Anselm now laid before William Rufus were three. The first of them had to do with the temporal estates of the archbishopric. I have elsewhere spoken of the light in which we ought to look at demands of this kind.[1150] Restoration of the estates of the see. We may be sure that Anselm would gladly have purchased the peace of the land, the friendship of the King, or anything that would profit the souls or bodies of other men, at the cost of any temporal possessions which were strictly his own to give up. But, if he became Archbishop of Canterbury, he would become a steward of the church of Canterbury, a trustee for his successors, the guardian of gifts which had been given to God, His saints, and His Church. In any of these characters, it would be a sin against his own soul and the souls of others, if he willingly allowed anything which had ever been given to his church to be taken from her or detained from her. If the King chose to keep the see vacant and to turn its revenues to his own use, that would be his sin and not Anselm’s; but Anselm would be a sharer in the sin, if he accepted the see without 414 requiring full restitution of everything to which the see had a lawful claim. In the private conference at Rochester, he therefore demanded, as a condition of his accepting the see, that he should receive all that Lanfranc had held, without delay or dispute or process in any court. As for lands to which his church had an ancient claim, but which Lanfranc had been unable to win back, for those he demanded that the King should do him justice in his court.[1151] The second demand touched the ancient relations between the crown and the archbishopric. The sheep, about to be yoked with the wild bull, sought to make terms with his fierce comrade. He demands to be the King’s spiritual guide. Anselm demanded that, in all matters which touched God and Christianity, the King should take him as his counsellor before all other men; as he acknowledged in the King his earthly lord, so let the King acknowledge in him his ghostly father and the special guardian of his soul.[1152]

Acknowledgement of Popes. To these two requests Anselm added a third, one which touched a point on which the Red King seems to have been specially sensitive. It had been the rule of his father’s reign that no Pope should be acknowledged in England without his consent.[1153] William Rufus seems to have construed this rule in the same way in which he construed some others. From his right to nominate to 415 bishoprics and abbeys he had inferred a right not to nominate to them; so, from his right to judge between contending popes, he inferred the right to do without acknowledging any pope at all. And, if the King acted in this way for his own ends, the country at large seems to have shown a remarkable indifference to the whole controversy. To Englishmen and to men settled in England it was clearly a much greater grievance to be kept without an Archbishop of Canterbury than it was to be left uncertain who was the lawful pope. Schism in the papacy. Victor the Third. 1086–1087. Urban the Second. 1088–1099. Urban and Clement. At this moment the Western Church was divided between the claims of Wibert or Clement, the Imperial anti-pope of the days of Hildebrand, and those of Urban, formerly Odo of Ostia, who, after the short reign of Victor, stepped into Hildebrand’s place. In the eyes of strict churchmen Urban was the true Vicar of Christ, and Wibert was a wicked intruder and schismatic. Yet it will be remembered that Lanfranc himself had, when the dispute lay between Wibert and Hildebrand, spoken with singular calmness and caution of a question which to more zealous minds seemed a matter of spiritual life and death.[1154] Our own Chronicler seems to have measured popes, as well as English feeling on the subject. kings and bishops, by the standard of possession; he found it hard to conceive a pope that “nothing had of the settle at Rome.”[1155] Even Anselm’s own biographer speaks very quietly on the point. Two rival candidates claimed the popedom; but which was the one rightly chosen no one in England, we are told, knew—​or seemingly cared.[1156] Another of our guides describes Urban and Clement as alike men of personal merit, and looks 416 on the controversy as one in which there was much to be said on both sides. The chief argument for Urban was that his supporters seemed to increase in number; otherwise no one really knew on which side the divine right was. In England opinion was divided; but fear of the King—​so we are told—​made it lean on the whole to Clement.[1157] Earlier in the reign we have heard Bishop William of Durham talk a great deal about going to the Pope; but he had taken care not to say to which pope he meant to go, and in the end he had not gone to either.[1158] Anselm requires to be allowed to acknowledge Urban. With Anselm the matter was more serious. Urban was his pope. All the churches of Gaul had acknowledged him; Bec and the other churches of Normandy had acknowledged him along with the rest.[1159] From the obedience which he had thus plighted he could not fall back. He told the King that, though he, King William, had not acknowledged Urban, yet he, Anselm, must continue to acknowledge him and to yield him such obedience as was his due.[1160] To be allowed freely to do so must be one of the conditions of his accepting the archbishopric.

417 The King’s answer was unsatisfactory, but not openly hostile. The King’s counsellors; Count Robert and Bishop William. He was however beginning to be on his guard; he called to his side the two subtlest advisers that the Church and realm of England could supply. The one was Count Robert of Meulan, at home alike in England, Normandy, and France. The other was William Bishop of Durham, once the strong assertor of ecclesiastical claims, who had appealed to the Pope against the judgement of the King and his Witan. He had indeed both learned and forgotten something in his exile. The Bishop’s new policy. He had come back to be the special counsellor of Rufus, the special enemy of Anselm, the special assertor of the doctrine that it was for the King alone to judge as to the acknowledgement of Popes. The King, having listened to Anselm, sent for these two chosen advisers. He bade Anselm say over again in their hearing what he had before said privately. The King’s answer. He then, by their advice, answered that he would restore to the see everything that had been held by Lanfranc; on other points he would not as yet make any positive engagement.[1161]

The letters come from Normandy. Up to this time the King had not yet received his expected letters from Normandy. They presently came, and Rufus evidently thought that some step on his part ought to follow. He had asked the Duke, the Archbishop, and the monks of Bec, to set Anselm free to accept the archbishopric. They had done so at his request. Unless then he wished to make fools of himself and of everybody else, he could not help again offering the see to the man whom he had himself chosen, and 418 who was now free to take it. He sent for Anselm to Windsor, where he now was; The King prays Anselm to take the archbishopric. he prayed him no longer to refuse the choice of the whole realm;[1162] but in so doing, he fell back somewhat from the one distinct promise which he had made at Rochester. When the estates of the see came into his hands on the death of Lanfranc, he had granted out parts of them on tenure of knight-service. He asks for the confirmation of grants made by him during the vacancy. These grants he asked Anselm, as a matter of friendship to himself, to allow.[1163] Was William merely seeking an excuse for backing altogether out of his offer of the archbishopric, or did he feel himself bound in honour to the men to whom he had made the grants? If so, his scruple of honour was met by Anselm’s scruple of conscience. Anselm refuses. Anselm would not be a party to any alienation of the goods of the Church; above all, he would not make any agreement about such matters before he was invested with any part of them.[1164] The point clearly is that so to do would be more than wasting the estates of the Church; it would be obtaining the archbishopric by a corrupt bargain. To agree to give up the estates of the see to the King’s grantees would be the same thing as obtaining the see by a bribe to the King. Anselm therefore refused to consent to the grants which the King had made during the vacancy. The whole matter thus came to a standstill. Rufus refused the investiture unless his grants were to stand good. Anselm went away rejoicing.

The whole case was set forth at length by Anselm 419 in a letter to his friend Hugh Archbishop of Lyons, the head prelate of his native Burgundy.[1165] Anselm’s statement of the case. The alienation to which Anselm was asked to consent was called by the King a “voluntary justice,” a phrase which has a technical sound, but the meaning of which is not very clear.[1166] The King’s argument was that, before the Normans invaded England, the lands in question had been held of the archbishopric by English thegns, that those thegns had died without heirs, and that it was open to the King to give them what heirs he would.[1167] It was certainly strange, if, on the one hand, not one of these thegns had been constrained to make way for a Norman successor, and if, on the other hand, not one of them had left a son to succeed him. But we must take the fact as it is stated. Nature of the King’s grants. Rufus seems to mean that, during Lanfranc’s incumbency, the lands which these thegns had held of the see had fallen back to the lord for lack of heirs, and had become demesne lands of the archbishopric. The King asserts his right, during the vacancy of the see, to grant out such lands by knight-service, service to be paid of course to the King as long as the vacancy lasted, but seemingly to the Archbishop, as soon as there should be an archbishop in possession. If this was the argument, an argument which savours of the subtlety of Flambard, there is, from Flambard’s point of view, a good deal that is plausible about it. The King’s case. The King, as temporary lord, claims to deal with the land as any other lord might do, and, when his temporary lordship 420 comes to an end, he calls on the incoming lord to respect his acts. The legal question would seem to be whether the new doctrine which gave the King the temporary profits of the archbishopric gave him any right to turn its demesne lands into fiefs. Anselm’s argument. Anselm’s argument seems to be that anyhow the possessions of the archbishopric were practically lessened, as they undoubtedly were. Experience showed that such a lordship as the see would keep over the lands so granted out would be both hard to enforce and of little value if enforced.[1168] Practically the grants were an alienation of the lands of the see. And to this Anselm could not consent. Open robbery from some quarter which owed no special duty to the archbishopric he might bear, and in such a case there would be more hope of gaining back what was lost by the help of the law.[1169] But for the King, the advocate of the see, and for himself, its guardian, to come to an agreement whereby the see would be damaged, was a thing to which Anselm would never consent.[1170] The King’s advocatio of the archbishopric. In this argument we hear the word advocate, the equivalent of the modern patron, in its elder sense. The advocatio, the advowson, of an ecclesiastical benefice carries with it, not only the right to name the incumbent of that benefice, but also the duty of acting as its protector.[1171] For the King, the advocate of the see of Canterbury, to do anything against its rights was a 421 greater crime than if another man did the same. For the Archbishop to betray the rights of his church and his successors was a greater crime still. And if King and Archbishop agreed to any such spoliation, all other men would naturally hold that the act could not be questioned. On these grounds Anselm refused to consent to the King’s grants. He left the royal presence trusting that he was now free from the burthen of ecclesiastical rule in any shape. He had been set free from the abbatial rule of Bec; he had escaped being loaded with the primatial rule of Canterbury. He was, as he wished to be, a private man.[1172]

Public feeling since the nomination at Gloucester. But a private man Anselm was not to remain. After the scene in the sick room at Gloucester, neither William nor Anselm could act exactly as if that scene had never taken place. The momentary repentance of the King, and the acts done during the time of that repentance, had given a strength to public opinion which even William Rufus could not despise. The old abuses, the old oppressions, began again; but men were now less disposed to put up with them than they had been before. They would no longer go on without an archbishop, after an archbishop, and Anselm as that archbishop, had been more than promised, after he had been given to them. The general murmur became so loud that the King had to give way.[1173] He could no longer help giving the archbishopric to Anselm, and that on Anselm’s own terms. And what he did, he did in the most solemn and, as far as outward appearances went, the most thorough manner. Gemót at Winchester. An extraordinary Gemót of the kingdom—​for the season was 422 neither Christmas, Easter, nor Pentecost—​was summoned to Winchester. The King renews his promises. In the presence of the assembled Witan, William Rufus, in full health, renewed the promises which he had made in his sickness. The wrongs done in his kingdom, above all, the wrongs done to the Church, were a second time to come to an end.[1174] Anselm receives the archbishopric, and does homage. Anselm was exhorted, and at last persuaded, to accept the archbishopric. He received it, seemingly without scruple, according to the ancient use of England; he became the man of the King.[1175] Anselm kneeling before Rufus, with his pure hands between the polluted hands of the King, pledging himself as the King’s man for all earthly worship, makes a scene which it is strange to think of.[1176] The deed was now done, and it could not be recalled. Bishop in the spiritual sense Anselm was not as yet; but he was the legal possessor of all the temporal estates and temporal jurisdiction of the see of Canterbury.

The King’s writ. The act which had just been done had now to be announced to the whole nation in the ancient form. The writ of King William went forth, announcing to all the King’s faithful men, French and English, that he had granted to Anselm the archbishopric of Canterbury, with all the rights, powers, and possessions—​rights, powers, and possessions, recited in the English tongue—​which belonged to the see, with all liberties over all his men, within boroughs and without. And words were added which seemed meant expressly to enforce Anselm’s 423 view of the point last in dispute. The Archbishop’s thegns. The new archbishop was to have all these liberties over as many thegns as King Eadward the King’s kinsman had granted to the see of Christ Church. This can hardly mean anything except the annulling of the grants which the King had made during the vacancy.[1177] Anselm was to have all such temporal rights as had been lawfully held by Lanfranc, as had been before him unlawfully held by Stigand. Clauses in favour of the monks. The writ further contains provisions on behalf of the metropolitan monastery. The estates of the convent were distinct from those of the see; still, in such a time of unlaw, it is likely that some excuse had been found to do them some wrong also. To the monks of Christ Church therefore the King confirms all their rights and possessions, with all the tolls and dues from the haven of Sandwich; no man, French or English, should meddle with them or their servants.[1178] The city of Canterbury and abbey of Saint Alban’s. Our Canterbury guide speaks also of a renewed grant, on more favourable terms than before, of the city of Canterbury and of the abbey of Saint Alban’s.[1179] These possessions were at least not granted by the writ which announces the grant of the archbishopric. Anselm and Saint Alban’s. Of one of them the local patriotism of Saint Alban’s naturally knew nothing, though we hear of the friendship which Anselm showed to the house and 424 to its abbot Paul. Death of Abbot Paul. 1093. This friendship could hardly have been shown in the character of archbishop, as Paul died during the year of Anselm’s appointment.[1180] And it is not wonderful that Anselm’s friendship for the abbey did not avail to save it from the usual fate. Vacancy of the abbey. For four years after the death of Paul, the church of Saint Alban remained without an abbot, while the King held the lands of the abbey, cut down its woods, and found many ingenious excuses, such as Flambard knew how to devise, for wringing money out of its tenants.[1181]

It would seem that, of the three points which had been insisted on by Anselm at Rochester, two were left out of sight in the public assembly at Winchester no less than in the private conference at Windsor. The question about the grants of the archiepiscopal lands was settled, at least in name and for the time, in favour of Anselm; The question as to the Pope left unsettled. but nothing was said either about William’s obligation to take Anselm as his spiritual guide or about the acknowledgement of Urban as Pope. The former of these two was in truth a matter for the King’s private conscience; it was hardly a matter to be discussed and legislated about in an assembly of the kingdom. And even the matter of the Pope did not touch Anselm’s conscience in exactly the same way as the question of the grants. If Anselm had allowed the grants, it would have been, in his view, an alienation of the rights of his see, and therefore a personal crime. But he might, without in any way giving up his position, receive the investiture 425 No reference to the Pope in English episcopal appointments. without saying anything about the papal question at all. It was not yet held that the Bishop of Rome was entitled to any voice as to the election, investiture, or consecration, of any English bishop. In the case of a diocesan bishop, there was no need for any reference to the Pope at any stage; in the case of a metropolitan, the pallium had to be asked for; but it was not asked for till after consecration. Anselm had given fair warning to the King that he meant to acknowledge Urban. But at no stage of the business which had yet been reached was there any need for any formal acknowledgement of any Pope. Anselm might therefore fairly hold that his first warning was enough, and that he was not called upon to raise the question again, till the time came when it would be his duty to seek for the pallium from one Pope or the other. When that time came, he would be ready to do or suffer as the circumstances of that yet future day might dictate.

Order of episcopal appointments. Before the time for any dealings with Rome should come, there were still two more ceremonies to be done in England. The process of making a bishop was, then as now, a long one; but the order of the several stages was different then from what it now is. Anselm had done homage and had received restitution of the temporalities; but he was not yet enthroned, still less consecrated. The order then was, homage, enthronement, consecration. Opposite present practice. The present order is the exact opposite. The bishop-elect is consecrated; then he takes corporal possession of the see by enthronement; last of all, he does homage to the King and receives restitution of the temporalities. In the elder state of things the spiritual office was bestowed on one who was already full bishop for all temporal purposes. By the later rule the temporal rights are bestowed on one who is already full bishop 426 for all spiritual purposes. Theories of the two systems. The difference in order seems to arise from the different theory of the episcopate which has prevailed since the restoration of ecclesiastical elections was fully established by the Great Charter. In the irregular practice of the eleventh century, the notion of investiture of a benefice by the king had come to the front. The king had in his hands a great fief, which he granted to whom he would; that fief was chargeable with certain spiritual duties. It was therefore for the Church, by her spiritual rite of consecration, to make the king’s nominee, already invested with his temporal rights, capable of discharging his spiritual duties. Such was clearly the established view of the days of Rufus, and the order of the process is in harmony with it. The office is treated as an appendage to the benefice. In the theory which is both earlier and later the benefice is treated as an appendage to the office. Present process. The order of the process is therefore reversed. The spiritual office is first filled by the three ecclesiastical processes of election, confirmation, consecration—​the last of course being needless when the person chosen is already a bishop. The bishop then takes personal possession of his church by installation or enthronement. The spiritual functions over, the bishop, now in full possession of his office, lastly receives the attached benefice by homage to the king and restitution of the temporalities at his hands. That elections were hardly ever really free at any time, that the royal leave was needed for the election, that kings recommended, that popes “provided,” that the later law requires the electors to choose only the king’s nominee and requires the metropolitan to confirm the person so chosen, makes no difference to the theory. The royal power is kept in the background; it is the ecclesiastical power which formally acts. The king’s hand pulls the wires of the ecclesiastical puppets; but the ecclesiastical 427 puppets play their formal part. The whole is done according to a theory which naturally places the formal act of the temporal power last. In the days of Rufus the whole was done according to another theory which, as naturally, placed the formal act of the temporal power first of all.

The next stage then was for Anselm, still only a presbyter, but already invested with all the temporal powers and possessions of the archbishopric, to take personal possession of his see in the metropolitan church. It was the only time that such a rite was performed in the short eastern limb of the new church of Lanfranc. Anselm’s own later days were to see the removal of the patriarchal throne of Britain to be the centre of the more stately apse of Conrad, as later days saw it again removed to be the centre of the yet more stately apse of the two Williams. Enthronement of Anselm. September 25, 1093. On that throne, Anselm, chosen to be Pope of the island Empire, was placed on one of the later days of September in the presence of a rejoicing crowd of monks, clergy, and lay folk. Well might they rejoice; the Church had again a shepherd; the nation had again a defender. But even that day of joy did not pass without signs that the favour of the temporal lord of the island Empire was already turned away from its new pontiff. The King’s sense of personal honour required him to carry out the promise made at Gloucester, to allow, even to compel, Anselm to become archbishop. But he had no sense of Christian or kingly duty to keep him from insulting and harassing the man whom he had promoted, or to constrain him to keep the promises contained in his own proclamation. Those things had not been done in the character of probus miles, of knight and gentleman. It was quite consistent with chivalrous honour to send Flambard to disturb the joyful day of enthronement 428 Flambard brings a suit against Anselm on the day of enthronement. by the announcement of a hostile suit against the new archbishop. We are not told what was its exact nature, only that it was something which, in the eyes of strict churchmen at least, wholly concerned the affairs of the Church, and with which the King’s court had nothing to do.[1182] In the older days of England such a distinction could hardly have been drawn; after the separation of the jurisdictions under the Conqueror, it may have been fair enough. Whatever the actual matter in dispute was, we can understand the general indignation at the choice of such a moment for the serving of the notice, at the malice which would not let even the first day of the Primate’s new dignity pass unmolested. We can also easily picture to ourselves the fierce swagger of Flambard, graphically as it is set before us.[1183] And we can listen also to the mild grief of Anselm, inferring from such treatment on the first day of his primacy what the troubles of his future life were likely to be.[1184]

Other events of the year. After the enthronement more than two months still passed before the final rite of consecration admitted Anselm to the fulness of his spiritual office. They were months of no small moment in the history of Britain. They beheld the last invasion of Malcolm, his death,[1185] the death of his saintly wife, the uprising of Scottish 429 nationality against the foreign innovations or reforms which Malcolm and Margaret represented in the eyes of their native subjects. The affairs of Scotland, of Consecration of Anselm at Canterbury. December 4, 1093.Wales, of Normandy, were all on the Red King’s mind at the same moment, as well as the affairs of Anselm. But it is these last that we have to follow for the present. Early in December, on the second Sunday in Advent, the more part of the bishops of England came together at Canterbury for the consecration of the new metropolitan. At their head was the Archbishop of York, Thomas of Bayeux. Thomas of York. It was the privilege of his see—​so the loyal historian of the church of York takes care that we should know—​when Canterbury was without an archbishop, to consecrate bishops and to put the crown on the king’s head within the vacant province.[1186] Whether the one available suffragan of the northern province came along with Thomas, in the form of William of Durham, we are not distinctly told. Other bishops present. But of the bishops of the province of Canterbury eight must have been there. Robert Bloet was the elect of Lincoln; but he, like Anselm, was himself awaiting consecration. Of the rest three were absent, and among those three were the only two Absence of Herbert, who were English either by birth or by adoption, the two whom we could have most wished to have a share in the work. Herbert of Thetford must now have been on his penitential journey to Rome or on his way back.[1187] The holy Wulfstan, the one Englishman by descent Wulfstan, as well as by birth who was left among the bishops of England, the only one who had been a bishop in 430 the old days of King Eadward, was still in the land, but was kept away by age or sickness. So was and Osbern. Osbern of Exeter, the only one of the foreign stock who had thoroughly made himself an Englishman by adoption. These two sent letters of consent instead of their personal presence.[1188] The others gathered round the high altar of Lanfranc’s rearing at Christ Church. Most of them are men with whose names we are familiar; Maurice of London, Walkelin of Winchester, Gundulf of Rochester, Osmund of Salisbury, Robert of Hereford, John who had moved from Wells to Bath, Robert of Lichfield or of Chester, who had moved in a fiercer sort to Earl Leofric’s Coventry. All of them, whatever they were in other ways, were mighty builders. If William of Durham, whose church had just begun to rise on the height above the Wear,[1189] was really in their company, there was indeed the master-builder of all, whose heart might already swell to think how the work which he had begun would surpass the work of Lanfranc under whose roof they were met. These eight came together in the new metropolitan church to perform the rite which should make Anselm at once their brother and their father.

But, before the rite could be gone through, an old question was stirred again, by no means for the last time. The leader of the episcopal band was fully minded that the rank to which they were about to admit the prelate elect should be clearly defined. Position of Thomas. Thomas of York had doubtless not forgotten the day when he had himself gone away unconsecrated from the spot where they were now met, because he could not bring himself to make such a submission to the higher dignity of Canterbury as Anselm’s predecessor had required of him.[1190] He now had his opportunity of raising his voice with greater 431 success on behalf of the dignity of his own church. Before the consecrating prelates went on to the examination of the bishop-elect, it was the business of the Bishop of London to read the formal document declaring the cause why they had come together.[1191] Bishop Maurice handed over this duty to the Bishop of Winchester. Walkelin began to read how the church of Canterbury, the metropolitan church of all Britain, was widowed of its pastor. Thomas objects to the description of Anselm as “Metropolitan of Britain.” The Archbishop of York stopped him; “Metropolitan church of all Britain? Then the church of York, which all men know to be a metropolitan church, is not metropolitan. We all know that the church of Canterbury is the primatial church of all Britain; metropolitan church of all Britain it is not.”[1192] This was not a distinction without a difference. To allow the claim of Canterbury to be the metropolitan church of all Britain would have been to admit that the church of York was a mere suffragan see of Canterbury. The other form simply asserted the precedency of Canterbury as the higher in rank of the two metropolitan sees of Britain. So Anselm’s correspondent at Lyons was Primate of all the Gauls, without endangering the metropolitan rank of Rheims and Rouen. But William the Good Soul would have been stirred to wrath had it been hinted that Lyons was the metropolitan church of all Gaul, and Rouen simply its suffragan. A zealot for 432 His objection admitted. the rights of Canterbury admits that the objection of Thomas was a good one.[1193] The wording of the document was at once changed;[1194] Anselm’s consecration. the rite went on, and Anselm was consecrated as Archbishop of Canterbury and Primate of all Britain. If the more northern suffragans of York had any objections to make, they were just then less likely than ever to be at Canterbury to make them.

The position of the newly-consecrated Primate within his own island was thus settled to the satisfaction of the man who thought that he had a special interest in the matter. Question of acknowledging the Pope. It was perhaps more difficult to settle his relation to the ecclesiastical powers beyond his own island. Anselm had warned the King that, if he became archbishop, he must yield obedience to Urban. But, as the King had not acknowledged Urban, it would have been deemed unlawful to speak of Urban as Pope in any public act. The difficulty seems to have been got over by Anselm making a profession of obedience to the 433 Roman Church, without mentioning the name of any particular pontiff.[1195] Thus passed the day of the consecration; Thomas claims jurisdiction over Lincoln. but, on the morrow, Thomas of York, successful thus far, found yet another point to assert on behalf of the alleged rights of his church. He had, it will be remembered, striven to hinder Remigius from transferring the see of Dorchester to a spot which he deemed to be in his own province and diocese.[1196] Since that time, notwithstanding his remonstrances, the minster of Lincoln had arisen; but it remained unconsecrated, and its builder was dead. To the mind of Thomas these facts perhaps seemed to be signs as clear in their meaning as any which the Bishop of Hereford would find out from the lore of the stars.[1197] Thus emboldened, on the day after he had consecrated Anselm to the see of Canterbury, Thomas warned the new Primate against proceeding, as he had purposed, to consecrate Robert Bloet to the see of Lincoln. He might consecrate him, if he would, to the ancient see of Dorchester; but not to Lincoln or to any other place in that land of Lindesey which belonged to the jurisdiction of York.[1198] Robert Bloet’s consecration delayed. Anselm seems to have yielded; at least the matter remained unsettled, and the elect of Lincoln remained unconsecrated for two months longer.

Anselm now, after so many difficulties, was at last fully Archbishop. He remained in his metropolis for 434 eight days only after his consecration. Christmas Gemót at Gloucester. 1093–1094. He then set forth for the Christmas Assembly of the realm, to be held at Gloucester.[1199] The prayer which he had drawn up at the assembly held there twelve months before had indeed been answered. The King’s heart had been stirred; the Archbishop had been appointed. Unhappily also the King’s heart had been stirred back again. William was again the king who had mockingly bidden his bishops to pray as they thought good, not the king who had passionately called on Anselm to step in between him and eternal death. The breach between King and Primate had begun before Anselm was fully Primate, when Flambard had insolently summoned him in his own church on the day of his enthronement. Whatever the matter of the summons was, Anselm was now ready in the King’s court to answer it. But of that dispute we hear no more. The Archbishop came to Gloucester, and was courteously and cheerfully received, Anselm received by the King. not only by the assembled nobles, but by the King himself.[1200] But the Witan were not to depart from the place of meeting till new grounds of quarrel had arisen between the two unequal yokefellows who were at last fully coupled together.

§ 3. The Assembly at Hastings and the Second Norman Campaign. 1094.

Events of the year 1094.The events of the year on which we have now entered consist partly of warlike movements in Normandy and Scotland, partly of matters directly touching ecclesiastical questions, above all touching Anselm. Of these,435 the affairs of Scotland and the affairs of Anselm have hardly any bearing on one another. Affairs of Normandy; their connexion with Anselm. But the affairs of Normandy and the affairs of Anselm have a close connexion. They were discussed in the same assemblies; and one ground of quarrel between King and Primate arose directly out of the discussion of Norman affairs. Some of the details of the two stories are so mixed up with one another that it would be hard to keep them apart. Again, the Scottish warfare of this year is part of a continuous series of Scottish events spread over several years. But the Norman warfare is a kind of episode. It is connected by the laws of cause and effect with things which went before and with things which came after; but, as a story, it stands by itself or is mixed up with the story of Anselm. It cannot be dealt with, like the King’s first Norman war, as a distinct chapter of our history. It will therefore be better, during the year which follows the consecration of Anselm, to keep Scottish affairs apart from the history of the ecclesiastical dispute, but to treat the Norman campaign as something filling up part of the time between two great stages in Anselm’s history.

Robert’s challenge of William. 1093–1094. The chief business of the assembly which now met at Gloucester was the reception of a hostile message from the Duke of the Normans. This fact makes us wish to know more in detail what Count William of Eu had suggested, and what King William of England had done. It is certain that King William needed no pressing to make him inclined for another attempt on his brother’s dominions; but it is clear that the coming of Count William had led to some special action which had given Duke Robert special ground of complaint. The Norman embassy came, and challenged one brother in the name of the other, almost as an earlier Norman embassy had challenged Harold in the name of the father of both of 436 them.[1201] Form of the message. The diplomacy of those days was clear and outspoken. The bodes of Duke Robert seem to have spoken to King William in the midst of his Witan, much as the bodes of the Athenian commonwealth spoke, with a greater amount of personal deference, to King Philip on his throne. They told the King of the English that their master renounced all peace and treaty with him, unless he would do all that was set down in the treaty; they declared him forsworn and truthless, unless he would hold to the treaty, or would go and clear himself at the place where the treaty had been made and sworn to.[1202] Such a message as this was hardly wise in Robert, whatever it might have been in a prince who had the resources of his dominions more thoroughly at his command. It was in some sort an appeal to arbitration; but it was put in a shape which was sure to bring on war. War decreed. William had no doubt made up his mind for a Norman enterprise in any case; the message of Robert would really help him by turning a certain amount of public feeling to his side. An expedition was decreed; Normandy was to be a second time invaded by the Red King.

And now came the question how ways and means were to be found for the new war. That some of the ways and means which were employed were unworthy of all kingly dignity[1203] is not wonderful in this reign. But the only one of which we distinctly hear seems in itself less unworthy 437 than some others, though the particular form which it took is eminently characteristic of Rufus. The great men who had come together to the assembly made presents to the King, forerunners of the benevolences of later times. Contributions collected for the war. The great men of Normandy had, twenty-eight years before, made contributions of ships for the invasion of England.[1204] Now the great men of England, some of them the same persons, made contributions of money for the invasion of Normandy. This was at least less unworthy of the kingly dignity than some of the tricks by which Flambard wrung money out of more helpless victims. But the Red King’s way of dealing with such gifts shows the mixture of greed and pride which stands out in all his doings. If the sum offered was less than he thought it ought to be, he cast it aside with scorn; nor would he ever again admit the offerer to his friendship, unless he made amends by a second offer of such a sum as the King might think becoming.[1205] Anselm unwilling to contribute. To this custom Anselm now conformed, with the other nobles and prelates; but it was with some pains that his friends persuaded him to conform to it.[1206] With his usual fear of being misconstrued, he dreaded that if, so soon after his consecration, he gave the King any sum which the King would think worth taking, it might have the air of a simoniacal bargain.[1207] He might also hold that the goods of the Church ought not to be applied to worldly, least of all to warlike, 438 uses; he might even feel some scruple in helping towards a war against a prince who had so lately been his own worldly lord. But he was won over by the argument that a gift in season might win the King’s favour for ever, and that he might be allowed to give his mind with less disturbance to the spiritual duties of his office.[1208] He gives five hundred pounds. He brought himself therefore to offer the King five hundred pounds of silver. William was satisfied with the amount, and received the gift with courteous thanks.[1209]

William persuaded to refuse the money. What followed showed that William Rufus had counsellors about him who were worse than himself, or who at any rate were not ashamed to play upon the worst parts of his character to obtain their own ends. In this case they are nameless. Are we to fill up the blank with the names of the Bishop of Durham and the Count of Meulan? Or is it safer to lay any evil deed the doer of which is not recorded on the broad back of Randolf Flambard? At any rate, some malignant persons, whoever they were, came about the King, and persuaded him that the gift of the Archbishop was a contemptible sum which he ought to reject. One whom he had exalted and enriched above the other great men of England ought, in such need as that in which the King found himself, to have given him two thousand pounds, or one thousand at the very least. To offer so little as five hundred was mere mockery. Let the King wait a little, let him change his face towards the Archbishop, and Anselm would presently come, delighted to win back the King’s favour with the gift of five hundred pounds more.[1210] 439 Thus the Primate’s enemies, whoever they were, sought to frighten him, and to get more money out of him for the King’s use. But their schemes were disappointed.[1211] Anselm was presently surprised by a message to say that the King refused his gift—​the gift which he had already cheerfully accepted.[1212] Anselm prays Rufus to take the money. He then sought an audience, and asked the King whether such a message was really of his sending. Some tyrants might have seen in this question an escape from a difficulty. It would have been easy for Rufus to have denied his own act; but his pride was up, and direct lying was never in his vein. He avowed his message. Then Anselm prayed him not to refuse his gift; it was the first that he had offered; it should not be the last. It would be better for the King to receive a smaller sum from him as a friend, than to wring a larger sum from him as a slave.[1213] Of the alternative of increasing the amount of the gift he said not a word. One motive was that he could not raise a greater sum without doing wrong to his tenants—​the wrong which he had declared Ælfheah to be a true martyr for refusing to do.[1214] Rufus refuses it.The King was now in the mood for short and wrathful speeches. “Keep your money and your jaw to yourself; I have enough of my own. Get you gone.”[1215] Anselm obeyed, remembering that at his enthronement the Gospel had been read which said that no man could serve two masters. He rejoiced that no one now could deem that he had been guilty of any corrupt bargain with 440 the King. Yet he tried once more through messengers to persuade the King to take his gift, but, as he steadily refused to double it, it was still thrust aside with scorn. The assembly broke up; the Archbishop, still in the King’s disfavour, went away, and the money which the King had despised was given to the poor.