pacification with Malcolm, but before Christmas, 1091. At no other
time could we have had the signatures of Robert and Eadgar, nor
probably that of Duncan. And the signature of Henry shows that William
of Malmesbury is right, and that Henry was in England at this time.
There was then some assembly held in the autumn of 1091, and that
seemingly at Durham or somewhere in the North. Its object would
probably be to confirm the treaty with Malcolm. Indeed, except a few
bishops and abbots, most of the men who sign would naturally be in the
camp. The signatures are in two columns. That to the right contains
the names of Bishop William, King William (signum Willielmi regis
secundi), his brothers (signum Rodberti fratris regis, signum Henrici
fratris regis), Robert Bloet (Roberti cancellarii regis cognomento
Bloet), Duncan (Dunechani filii regis Malcolmi), Earl Roger, Randolf
Flambard (Ranulphi thessarii――thesaurarii?), three local priests,
Merewine (Mervini), Eglaf (Ælavi; in another document, p. xx, we get
the dwelling-places of these priests, Eglaf of Bethlington and
Merewine of Chester――that is of course Chester-le-Street), and Orm,
Robert “dispensator regis” (see p. 331), Siward Barn, and Arnold of
Percy. The left-hand column contains Archbishop Thomas, the Bishops
Remigius of Lincoln, Osmund of Salisbury, and John of Bath, the Abbots
Guy of Saint Augustine’s, Baldwin of Saint Eadmund’s, and Stephen of
Saint Mary’s at York, Earl Hugh, Philip son of Earl Roger, Earl
Robert, “signum Eadgari clitonis,” Roger Bigod, “signum Morealis
vicecomitis,” William Peverel, “signum Gileberti dapiferi.”
This list, though singular and startling, is perfectly possible. This
cannot be said of some of those in the same volume. Thus in the
document just before this one, John Bishop of Bath is made to sign in
the time of the Conqueror, and in that which follows (p. xxvii),
Lanfranc and Abbot Ælfsige are made to sign in 1093.
The evidence of this charter, combined with the notice in William of
Malmesbury, seems conclusive. Henry was in England during part of
1091. We therefore cannot accept the obvious meaning of Orderic’s
story which makes Henry a wanderer from the time of the surrender of
the Mount till his reception at Domfront. In this version he leaves
the Mount, and spends two years, or somewhat less, in a very poor case
(697 B);
“Per Britanniam transiit, Britonibus, qui sibi solummodo adminiculum
contulerant, gratias reddidit, et confines postmodum Francos expetiit.
In pago Vilcassino nobilis exsul non plenis duobus annis commoratus,
diversa hospitia quæsivit. Uno tantum milite unoque clerico cum tribus
armigeris contentus pauperem vitam exegit.”
In another place (698 C) we find a date given to the occupation of
Domfront, and a duration assigned to Henry’s wanderings, which at
first sight seems not to agree with this version;
“Anno ab incarnatione Domini MXCII. Indictione XV. Henricus
Guillelmi regis filius Danfrontem oppidum, auxilio Dei
suffragioque amicorum, obtinuit, et inde fortiter
hereditarium jus calumniari sategit. Nam idem, dum esset
junior, non ut frater a fratribus habitus est, sed magis ut
externus, exterorum, id est Francorum et Britonum, auxilia
quærere coactus est, et quinque annis diversorum eventuum
motibus admodum fatigatus est. Tandem Danfrontani nutu Dei
ærumnis tam præclari exsulis compassi sunt, et ipsum ad se
de Gallia accersitum per Harecherium honorifice susceperunt,
et, excusso Roberti de Belesmo, a quo diu graviter oppressi
fuerant, dominio, Henricum sibi principem constituerunt.
Ille vero contra Robertum Normanniæ comitem viriliter arma
sumpsit, incendiis et rapinis expulsionis suæ injuriam
vindicavit, multosque cepit et carceri mancipavit.”
The five years mentioned in the above extract must be meant to take in
all Henry’s adventures, lucky and unlucky, from the death of his
father in 1087 to his settlement at Domfront in 1092. From his
surrender of the Mount in February 1091 to his settlement at Domfront
Orderic makes, as we have seen, somewhat less than two years; that is,
Henry came to Domfront quite at the end of 1092.
In 706 C (under 1094, see p. 319) he says;
“Henricus Guillelmi Magni regis Anglorum filius Danfrontem
possidebat, et super Robertum [de Belesmo], cui præfatum
castellum abstulerat, imo super fratres suos regem et ducem
guerram faciebat, a quibus extorris de cespite paterno
expulsus fuerat.”
In 722 D he says;
“Henricus frater ducis Danfrontem fortissimum castrum
possidebat, et magnam partem Neustriæ sibi favore vel armis
subegerat, fratrique suo ad libitum suum, nec aliter,
obsecundabat.”
This is in 1095, and it is meant as a summary of Henry’s course up to
that year. Lastly, the promise of Henry never to give up Domfront to
any other master comes quite incidentally in Orderic’s account (788 B)
of the treaty between Robert and Henry in 1101 (see vol. ii. p. 413).
By that treaty Henry ceded to Robert everything that he held in
Normandy “præter Danfrontem.” The reason for the exception is added;
“Solum Danfrontem castrum sibi retinuit, quia Danfrontanis,
quando illum intromiserunt, jurejurando pepigerat quod
numquam eos de manu sua projiceret nec leges eorum vel
consuetudines mutaret.”
This is Orderic’s account, in which I see no difficulty at all in
accepting all that concerns Domfront. Henry was in England late in
1091; but he may have been in France or anywhere else late in 1092.
And Henry may have had a time of distress and wandering in the Vexin,
either between March and August 1091 or at any time in 1092. Where
Orderic goes wrong, it is through forgetting Henry’s visit to England
in 1091, which was of no importance to his story. He therefore
naturally spreads the season of wandering in the Vexin over the whole
time from the surrender of the Mount early in 1091 to the occupation
of Domfront late in 1092.
* * * * *
Robert of Torigny, in the Continuation of William of Jumièges (viii.
3), is in a still greater hurry to get Henry to Domfront (see above,
p. 532). The passage, as far as it concerns the relations between
Henry and Domfront, runs thus;
“Comes Henricus, inde [from the Mount] libere exiens,
oppidum munitissimum nomine Danfrontem sagacitate cujusdam
indigenæ suscepit. Indignabatur enim prædictus indigena,
utpote vir nobilis et dives, oppressiones amplius perpeti
quas Robertus de Belismo, homo ferox et mentis inhumanæ,
sibi et aliis convicaneis inferebat, qui tunc temporis illud
castrum possidebat. Quod tanta diligentia Henricus exinde
custodivit ut usque ad terminum vitæ illius in suo dominio
habuerit.”
The “indigena nobilis et dives” of this account is of course the same
as the Harecherius of Orderic. And the statement that Henry kept
Domfront all his days agrees with Orderic’s statement about his
promise. Wace (14762-14773) gives us some, perhaps legendary, details
of the way in which Henry was brought from Paris――from the French
Vexin, one would have thought, from Orderic’s account――to Domfront;
but he is clearly wrong in making any Robert, whether the Duke or him
of Bellême, turn Henry out of Domfront;
“Ne coment Haschier le trova
A Paris donc il l’amena,
_Ki se fist un des oilz péier,
Ke l’en nel’ péust encercier_,
Ne voil dire par kel savoir
Haschier li fist Danfront aveir,
Ne coment il fu recéuz
Quant il fu à Danfront venuz,
Ne coment il cunquist Passeiz
E le toli as Belesmeiz;
Ne coment Robert le cunquist,
E de Danfront partir le fist.”
The covering of one of Henry’s eyes with pitch by way of disguise may
be believed or not; but the “savoir” of Haschier answers to the
“sagacitas” of the “indigena nobilis et dives.” Passeiz, Passais (see
Pluquet, Wace, ii. 319; Neustria Pia, p. 423), is the district which
contains Domfront and the abbey of Lonlay, a district which lay in the
ancient diocese of Le Mans, but which was added to Normandy by
William’s conquest.
This name “Haschier” or “Harecherius” is supposed by Le Prévost
(Pluquet, ii. 319) to be the same name as “Achardus,” the name of one
of the witnesses to the foundation charter of Lonlay abbey in 1026. He
signs as “Achardus dives, miles de Donnifronte.” This document is
contained in an _inspeximus_ of Peter, Count of Alençon (1361-1377),
contained in an _inspeximus_ of Henry, King of France and England
about 1423 (Neustria Pia, p. 424). The founder is the old William of
Bellême, father of William Talvas and grandfather of Mabel. There is a
certain interest in a document relating to Domfront and Lonlay before
they became Norman, when lands there could be granted “usque in
Normaniæ commarchiam.” Among the signatures are those of the founder’s
brother Avesgaud Bishop of Le Mans (994-1036, see N. C. vol. iii. p.
191), Siegfried Bishop of Seez (1007-1026), the founder and his wife,
“Guillelmus princeps [in the body of the document he is “Guillelmus
Bellismensis, provinciæ principatum gerens”] et Mathildis uxor ejus,”
and this “Achardus _dives_” whom Le Prevost takes for a forefather of
the “indigena nobilis et _dives_.”
Orderic says that Henry obtained Domfront “suffragio amicorum.” Robert
of Torigny, in the next chapter of his Continuation (viii. 4), tells
us who his friends a little later were. He is established at Domfront;
then we read;
“Redeunte Willelmo rege in Angliam, Henricus haud segniter
comitatum Constantiniensem, qui sibi fraudulentia ante
præreptus fuerat, _consensu Willelmi regis_ et auxilio
Richardi de Revers et Rogerii de Magna-villa, ex majori
parte in ditionem suam revocavit.”
He then goes on with the passage about Earl Hugh and the grant of
Saint James to him, quoted in p. 323.
I think that this distinct assertion that Henry was now in William’s
favour outweighs the vague expressions of Orderic about Henry making
war on both his brothers. By 1093, the earliest date for these
exploits, William was again scheming against Robert, and his obvious
policy would be to ally himself with Henry.
Henry, as we have seen in the extracts from Orderic, carried on war in
the usual fashion. But he at least treated his prisoners better than
Robert of Bellême did. We have (698 D) a picture of one Rualedus――a
Breton Rhiwallon, or what?――who is carried off from the lands of Saint
Evroul to the castle of Domfront. It was winter; but he was not left
to die of cold and hunger for Count Henry’s amusement; we see him
sitting comfortably by the fire (“quum sederet ad focum; hiems enim
erat”). On the road he had fallen from the horse on which he was tied,
and had suffered some hurt. But, after prayer to Saint Evroul,
followed by a comforting dream, he wakes, and, as his keeper’s back is
turned, he gets up, unbars the door, walks into the garden, and, after
some further adventures, gets back to Saint Evroul. He was a man
“legitimus et laudabilis vitæ;” so Orderic, who heard the story from
his own mouth, believes it. There seems no reason why anybody should
disbelieve it; as the only part of the tale which sounds at all
incredible is the very bad guard which Henry’s men kept over their
prisoner.
NOTE Q. Vol. i. p. 302.
THE HOMAGE OF MALCOLM IN 1091.
The account of Malcolm’s homage to William Rufus which is given by
Orderic (701 A) is treated with some contempt by Mr. E. W. Robertson
(Scotland under her Early Kings, i. 142), while it is naturally not
forgotten by Sir Francis Palgrave (English Commonwealth, ii.
cccxxxii). The main fact of the homage itself, paid to the second
William on the same terms on which it had been paid to the first, is
abundantly proved by the Chronicle. Nothing is gained by disproving at
this stage the exaggerated account of Robert’s expedition in 1080
which is to be found in the local History of Abingdon (see N. C. vol.
iv. pp. 671, 790). The only question is, whether, accepting the
general fact from the Chronicle, we can or cannot accept any of the
very curious details with which Orderic tells the story.
First of all, while Orderic’s geography is right, his topography is
wrong. The mention of the “magnum flumen quod _Scotte watra_ dicitur”
must come from some genuine source. “Ordericus Angligena” heard the
tale from some one who told it him in English. And, if there could be
the shadow of a doubt, this shows that “Loðene” in the Chronicle means
Lothian, and nothing else. Mr. Burton (Hist. Scot. i. 412) insists on
carrying Malcolm to Leeds; but he cannot make the Aire to be the
“Scotte watra.” But Orderic, who plainly got his account from some
quite different source from the Chronicler, failed to take in the
actual position of the two armies. He failed to see that Malcolm,
having crossed the Scots’ Water into Lothian and therefore into
England, was necessarily on the south side of the Scots’ Water. He
fancied that the two kings were on opposite sides of the firth.
William reaches the Scots’ Water; “sed, quia inaccessibilis transitus
erat, super ripam consedit. Rex autem Scottorum e regione cum
legionibus suis ad bellandum paratus constitit.” So he doubtless did;
only they were both south of the water. The Chronicle shows plainly
that Malcolm, as soon as he heard of William’s coming, determined that
the invader should not, as his father had done, cross into the proper
Scotland to Abernethy or elsewhere, but that he would meet him, for
peace or for war, in the English part of his dominions.
This topographical confusion does not affect the main story, nor does
it greatly matter whether the picturesque details of Robert’s visit to
Malcolm literally happened or not. It is further plain that Orderic
has left out one of the two mediators, namely Eadgar. But he records
the main fact of the homage no less than the Chronicler. The question
is whether we can accept the curious conversation between Robert and
Malcolm, in which Malcolm makes two statements, which are perhaps a
little startling in themselves, which are not mentioned elsewhere, but
which certainly do not contradict what we find elsewhere.
First, Malcolm asserts that King Eadward gave him the earldom of
Lothian, seemingly as the dowry of Margaret; “Fateor quod rex
Eduardus, dum mihi Margaritam proneptem suam in conjugium tradidit,
Lodonensem comitatum mihi donavit.” Now it is certainly true that King
Eadward, or Earl Siward in his name, gave Malcolm the earldom of
Lothian; only he gave him something else too, namely the kingdom of
Scotland. And I have mentioned elsewhere (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 785)
that a betrothal of Margaret to Malcolm, when Malcolm received the
kingdom from Siward, though recorded nowhere else, is perfectly
possible.
Secondly, Malcolm’s strong point is that he does owe a homage to
Robert, but that he owes none to William. This he asserts in his first
message; “Tibi, rex Guillelme, nihil debeo, nisi conflictum si a te
injuriis lacessitus fuero. Verum si Robertum primogenitum Guillelmi
regis filium videro, illi exhibere paratus sum quicquid debeo.”
Afterwards, in his conference with Robert, he is made to say, after
mentioning Eadward’s grant of Lothian, “Deinde Guillelmus rex quod
antecessor ejus mihi dederat concessit, et me tibi primogenito suo
commendavit. Unde quod tibi promisi conservabo. Sed fratri tuo nihil
promisi et nihil debeo. Nemo, ut Christus ait, potest duobus dominis
servire.” To this Robert agrees; “Ut asseris, ita est. Sed mutationes
rerum factæ sunt, et statuta patris mei a pristina soliditate in
multum vacillaverunt.” I do not know that a homage of Malcolm to
Robert is recorded anywhere else, unless we so understand the confused
Abingdon story about the expedition of 1080. But nothing was more
likely than that William the Conqueror should at Abernethy call on
Malcolm to pledge himself, as was so often done, not only to himself
but to his son after him. In 1072 there could have been no reason for
looking to any one but Robert as the probable successor; least of all
could any one have thought of William the Red. He was not even the
second son, as Richard was still alive. And the time when King William
renewed the gift of his predecessor Eadward must surely be the day of
Abernethy, and none other.
There is then really nothing in Orderic’s story which gainsays any
known facts, and it is hard to see what should have made him think of
a betrothal of Margaret, a homage to Robert, and the rest, unless he
had some ground for them. And the general argument put into Malcolm’s
mouth seems exactly in place. It is of a piece with the arguments of
Scottish disputants long after Orderic’s day. Something is admitted,
that something is perhaps specially insisted on, in order to avoid the
admission of something else. Lothian is the special personal gift of
Eadward to Malcolm himself, though it is certain, on any view of the
cession of Lothian, that predecessors of Malcolm had held it of
predecessors of Eadward. That gift of Eadward, renewed by William the
Great, is allowed to carry with it a personal duty to William the
Great and to his personal heir. But the denial of any duty to William
the Red implicitly denies any duty to the King of the English as such.
Still this question is in words left open; so is all that relates to
the proper Scotland left open. Malcolm at last consents to do homage
to William for something; but, in Orderic’s story at least, it is not
very clear for what. (The Chronicler, we may be sure, felt so certain
of its being for Scotland that he did not think it needful to say so.)
All this is exactly like later controversies on the same subject. When
the two kingdoms were on friendly terms, it often suited both sides
that the homage should be general, leaving it open to each side to
assert its own doctrine the next time there should be any dispute (see
N. C. vol. v. p. 209). And we must remember that by this time it is
quite possible that Rufus might make claims which Malcolm would, on
the principles of an earlier time, do quite right in refusing.
Strictly feudal ideas were growing, and when a King of the English
demanded homage for the kingdom of Scotland, he may well have meant
more than had been meant when the king and people of the Scots sought
Eadward the Unconquered to father and lord. Certainly, when the whole
thing had stiffened into a question of ordinary feudal law, Edward the
First, if judged by the standard of the tenth century, asked more than
his historic rights over Scotland, less than his historic rights over
Lothian. See Historical Essays, Series I. p. 65; N. C. vol. i. p. 128.
* * * * *
I am therefore inclined to believe that Orderic has, in this case, as
in some others, incidentally preserved facts of which we have no
record elsewhere. But I am not anxious strongly to insist upon this.
The general course of the history is the same, whether Margaret had or
had not been betrothed to Malcolm before his marriage――or whatever it
was――with Ingebiorg; it is the same whether Malcolm had or had not
done an act of homage to Robert. And I must allow that, as Orderic has
misunderstood some points at the beginning of the story, so he has
more thoroughly misunderstood some points at the end of the story. For
he makes Malcolm go into England――Florence would have said into
Wessex――with William and Robert; “Deinde reges agmina sua remiserunt,
et ipsi simul in Angliam profecti sunt.” This comes, as we shall
presently see, from rolling together the events of the years 1091 and
1093.
* * * * *
The twelve “villæ” which, according to Florence, were to be restored
to Malcolm are, I suppose, the same as the “mansiones” which the kings
of Scots are said to have held in England in times both earlier and
later than those with which we are dealing. This comes from Roger of
Wendover’s account (i. 416; cf. N. C. vol. i. p. 584) of the grant of
Lothian by Eadgar to Kenneth. It was given “hac conditione, ut annis
singulis in festivitatibus præcipuis, quando rex et ejus successores
diadema portarent, venirent ad curiam, et cum cæteris regni
principibus festum cum lætitia celebrarent; dedit insuper ei rex
mansiones in itinere plurimas, ut ipse et ejus successores ad festum
venientes ac denuo revertentes hospitari valuissent, quæ usque in
tempora regis Henrici secundi in potestate regum Scotiæ remanserunt.”
The slighter mention in Florence gives some confirmation to the story
in Roger. And though it was not likely that the King of Scots, or even
the Earl of Lothian, should regularly attend at the great festivals,
yet it was doubtless held that it was the right thing that he should
do so; and we find Malcolm himself coming to the King’s court not long
after (see vol. ii. p. 13), and his son Eadgar after him (see vol. ii.
p. 265).
* * * * *
There is not much to be got from the other writers. William of
Malmesbury twice refers to the matter, but as usual without much
regard to chronology. It is seemingly this submission of Malcolm to
which he refers in iii. 250, where, having said that Malcolm, in the
days of the elder William, “incertis et sæpe fractis fœderibus ævum
egit,” adds “filio Willelmi Willelmo regnante, simili modo impetitus,
falso sacramento abegit.” He must also refer to this time in iv.
310-311, where he says that, after the siege of Saint Michael’s Mount,
he went back to England, “quod eum Scottorum et Walensium tumultus
vocabant.” There was (see vol. ii. pp. 78, 79) a considerable
“Walensium tumultus” this year; but it does not seem that the King
himself did anything in those parts till later in his reign. William
however says;
“Primo contra Walenses, post in Scottos, expeditionem
movens, nihil magnificentia sua dignum exhibuit, militibus
multis desideratis, jumentis interceptis.”
He then goes on to speak more at large of Welsh matters, and comes
back to speak of the action of Robert in Scotland (see p. 301). The
old friendship which he there speaks of between Malcolm and Robert
falls in with Orderic’s story, and specially with Orderic’s way of
telling it. We shall hear of it again in Notes BB, EE.
Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 2, p. 216) tells the story thus;
“Interea Melcolm rex Scotorum prædatum veniens in Angliam
validissime vexavit eam. Venientes igitur in Angliam rex, et
cum eo Robertus frater suus, direxerunt acies in Scotiam.
Itaque Melcolm, nimio terrore perstrictus, homo regis
effectus est et juramento fidelitatis ei subjectus.” Matthew
Paris (Hist. Angl. i. 40) has a wonderful version in which
the invasion is altogether left out. Malcolm, hearing of the
peace between the brothers, begins to fear for his own
kingdom. He therefore comes to William and makes a very
humble homage indeed; “Veniens ad regem Angliæ Willelmum,
humilitate sua regis flexit ferocitatem, asserens se nullum
hostium suorum receptasse vel recepturum fore, nisi tali
intentione, ut ipsos dominum suum recognoscentes, regi,
persuasionibus suis mediantibus, redderet pacificatos et
fideliores.”
NOTE R. Vol. i. p. 313.
THE EARLDOM OF CARLISLE.
It is certainly a singular fact that, so lately as 1873, a long
controversy raged in the Times newspaper as to the reason why
Cumberland and Westmoreland were not surveyed in Domesday. The dispute
was kept up for some time among men who seemed to have some local
knowledge; but, till Dr. Luard kindly stepped in to set them right,
every reason was guessed at but the true one. No one seemed to grasp
the simple facts, that no part of England was known at the time of the
Survey by the name Cumberland or Westmoreland――that so much of the
shires now bearing those names as then formed part of the kingdom of
England is surveyed under the head of Yorkshire――that the reason why
the rest is left unsurveyed is because it formed no part of the
kingdom of England. The whole matter had long before been thoroughly
sifted and set right by two local writers, who, I am tempted to
suspect, were only one writer; yet the received local confusions were
just as strong as ever.
The general history of Cumberland, and of this part of it in
particular, was very minutely examined in the Introduction to the
volume published in 1847 by the Society of Antiquaries of
Newcastle-upon-Tyne under the name of “The Pipe-Rolls or Sheriffs’
Annual Accounts of the Revenues of the Crown for the Counties of
Cumberland, Westmorland, and Durham, during the Reigns of Henry II,
Richard I, and John.” After this, in 1859, a paper was read by Mr.
Hodgson Hinde at the Carlisle meeting of the Archæological Institute,
“On the Early History of Cumberland,” which appeared in the
Archæological Journal, vol. xvi. p. 217. These two essays have pretty
well exhausted the piece of Cumbrian history with which I have now to
deal, and they contain a great deal more with which I am not
concerned.
* * * * *
The word _Cumberland_, I need not say, is a word of many meanings, and
at the present moment we have not to do with any of them. We have to
do only with the city and earldom of _Carlisle_, which does not answer
to Cumberland in either the older or the later sense. The confusion
which has immediately to be got rid of is the notion that Carlisle and
its district already formed an English earldom in the time of the
Conqueror. Thus we read in Sir Francis Palgrave (English Commonwealth,
i. 449);
“‘Cumberland’――for we must now call the Dominion by its
modern appellation――was, as I have observed, retained by the
Conqueror; Malcolm had invaded the country; but he could not
defend the territory against William, who granted Cumberland
to Ranulph de Meschines, one of his Norman followers; and
the border Earldom became wholly assimilated, in its
political character, to the other great baronies of
England…. Carlisle was always excepted from these grants.
The city, and the territory of fifteen miles in circuit, had
become English by Ecgfrid’s donation, and probably was
always held, either by the Kings or Earls of Bernicia or of
Northumbria. Little further is known concerning ‘merry
Carlisle,’ the seat of Arthur’s chivalry. Until the reign of
William Rufus, this city, desolated by the Danes, was almost
void of inhabitants. William completed the restoration of
its walls and towers, which his father had begun.”
This comes primarily from a passage in the so-called Matthew of
Westminster under the year 1072;
“Rex Gulihelmus cum grandi exercitu Scotiam ingressus est,
et obviavit ei pacifice Malcolmus rex Scotorum apud Barwicum
et homo suus devenit. His temporibus regebat comitatum
Carleoli comes Ranulphus de Micenis, qui efficax auxilium
præbuit regi Gulihelmo in conquestu suo Angliæ. Hic urbem
Carleoli cœpit ædificare, et cives ejusdem plurimis
privilegiis munire. Sed rediens rex Gulihelmus a Scotia per
Cumbriam, videns tam regale municipium, abstulit illud a
Ranulpho comite, et dedit illi pro eo comitatum Cestriæ,
multis honoribus privilegiatum. Carleolum vero precepit rex
Gulihelmus turribus propugnaculisque muniri firmissimis. Rex
vero Gulihelmus Conquestor in redeundo de Scotia apud
Dunelmum novum ibidem construxit castellum contra
irruptiones Scotorum.”
There is also printed in the Monasticon, vol. iii. p. 584, a
genealogical document called “Chronicon Cumbriæ,” which comes from the
Register of Wetheral priory. This begins by saying that
“Rex Willielmus, cognomine Bastardus, dux Normanniæ,
conquestor Angliæ, dedit totam terram de comitatu Cumbriæ
Ranulpho de Meschines, et Galfrido fratri ejusdem Ranulphi
totum comitatum Cestriæ, et Willielmo fratri eorundem terram
de Copland, inter Duden et Darwent.”
The source of error here is that Matthew of Westminster, so to call
him, mixed up the Scottish expedition of the Conqueror in 1072 with
the Scottish expedition of William Rufus in 1091, and made the
restoration of Carlisle a work of the father and not of the son. He
also brings in Earl Randolf, with whom we are not as yet concerned;
but it is to be noticed that he says nothing about an earldom of
_Cumberland_, but speaks only of an earldom of _Carlisle_. It is only
in the Wetheral document that an earldom of _Cumberland_ is carried
back to the days of the Conqueror. Sir Francis Palgrave failed to
notice this distinction; but he knew his books far too well to pass by
the entries in the Chronicle and Florence under 1092. He therefore
tried to reconcile them with the passages in Matthew of Westminster
and the Wetheral chronicle by supposing an earldom of Cumberland which
did not take in Carlisle and its district. The error and its source
were first pointed out by Lappenberg (ii. 175 of the German original,
p. 234 of Mr. Thorpe’s Anglo-Norman Kings, where, as usual, some of
Lappenberg’s notes and references are left out). Lappenberg notices
the difference between Matthew’s story and Palgrave’s; he suggests
that Matthew has further confounded the events of 1072 and 1092 with
those of 1122; and he gives a summary of the whole matter in the
words;
“Wichtig aber ist es wahrzunehmen, dass erst Rufus und nicht
sein Vater Cumberland zu einer wirklichen Provinz des
normannischen Englands machte.”
Here is the root of the matter, so far as we have got rid of the
notion of the Conqueror having done anything at Carlisle or
thereabouts. Still Lappenberg should not have spoken, as I myself
ought not to have spoken (N. C. vol. v. p. 118), of _Cumberland_ now
becoming an English earldom. The district with which we are concerned
forms only a very small part of the old kingdom of Cumberland, while
it does not answer to the modern county of Cumberland, which does not
appear by that name till 1177 (see Pipe Rolls of Cumberland, p. 18;
Archæological Journal, xvi. 230). The land with which we are concerned
bears the name of the city. It is the land and earldom, not of
_Cumberland_, but of _Carlisle_.
The point to be clearly taken in is that the district with which we
are concerned was not part of England till 1092; more accurately
still, it ceased to be part of England in 685, and became so again in
1092. For those four centuries, Carlisle, city and district, had as
much or as little to do with England as the lands immediately to the
north of it, the lands which formed that part of Cumberland in the
wider sense which became in the end part of the kingdom of Scotland.
This district of Carlisle does not answer to any modern shire, and it
is of course not surveyed in Domesday. But it does answer to the
diocese of Carlisle, as it stood before late changes. That diocese
took in part of modern Cumberland and part of modern Westmoreland. The
rest of those shires, with Lancashire north of Ribble and the
wapentake of Ewecross (Pipe Rolls, p. xlii), formed the Domesday
district of Agemundreness (see Domesday, 301 _b_), forming part of
Yorkshire, as it formed part of York diocese till the changes under
Henry the Eighth. Mr. Hinde suggests (Arch. Journal, xvi. 227) that
this district was conquered by Earl Eadwulf, the great enemy of the
Britons (see N. C. vol. i. p. 526), a position which it might be hard
either to prove or to disprove. Before the death of Henry the First,
the Carlisle district was divided into two shires, Carlisle and
Westmoreland (_Chaerleolium_ and _Westmarieland_, Pipe Roll Hen. I.
pp. 140, 143). This last consisted of the barony of Appleby, specially
known as Westmoreland. Enlarged by the barony of Kirkby Kendal in
Yorkshire, it became the modern county of Westmoreland. So the shire
of Carlisle took the name of _Cumberland_ in 1177, and, enlarged by
the part of Yorkshire north of the Duddon, it became the modern county
of Cumberland. But these added lands remained part of the diocese of
York, till Henry the Eighth removed them to his diocese of Chester.
This last diocese must not be confounded with the diocese of
Chester――otherwise of Lichfield or Coventry――with which we have to do
in our story. That diocese did not reach north of the Ribble, and its
seat at Chester was in Saint John’s minster, while the new see of
Henry the Eighth was planted in Saint Werburh’s.
The earldom of Carlisle brings us among old acquaintances. It was
granted early in the reign of Henry the First (see Arch. Journal, xvi.
230, 231) to Randolf called Meschines, _de Micenis_, and other forms,
who in 1118 became Earl of Chester, on the death of Earl Richard in
the White Ship (see N. C. vol. v. p. 195), on which he gave up
Carlisle. He died in 1129, being the second husband of the younger
Lucy (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 682; vol. iii. p. 778), daughter of Ivo
Taillebois. Ivo himself, at some time after the drawing up of Domesday
(Carlisle Pipe Rolls, p. xliii) appears in the same part of the world
as lord of Kirkby Kendal. After 1118 the earldom of Carlisle or
Cumberland remained in the crown, till it was granted to David of
Scotland in 1136 (see N. C. vol. v. p. 259).
The name of the city and earldom of Carlisle is the best comment on
its history. Alone among the names of English cities, it remains
purely British, not only in its root, but, so to speak, in its
grammar. The British idiom, I need hardly say, places the qualifying
word second; the Teutonic idiom places it first. Thus _Caer Gwent_ and
_Caer Glovi_ have become _Winchester_ and _Gloucester_. But _Caer
Luel_ has not changed; it remains _Carlisle_, and has not become
something like _Lilchester_. The reason is doubtless because the first
English occupation of Caer Luel did not last long enough to give it a
lasting English name. In 1092 nomenclature had lost the life which it
had in 685, and a foreign tongue moreover had the upper hand. No one
then thought of turning the name of Carlisle about, any more than of
doing so by the names of Cardiff (Caerdydd), Caermarthen, or the
Silurian _Caerwent_ and _Caerleon_.
* * * * *
As for the colonists brought from the south, I have assumed them to be
a strictly Saxon element added to the already mixed population of the
border. And there may have been a Flemish element too, as I was
inclined to think when I wrote N. C. vol. v. p. 119. The point is not
of much importance, as the two kindred elements would easily fuse
together; but it strikes me now that, if any part of the settlers had
come from beyond sea, the Chronicler would not have so calmly spoken
of them as churlish folk from the south. That phrase however is one
well worthy of notice. The words “hider suð” can hardly have been
written at Peterborough. That abbey certainly lies a long way south of
Carlisle; but Peterborough would hardly speak of itself in this
general way as “south.” (In 1051 Worcester, which lies south of
Peterborough, counted itself to be “at this north end”――“ofer ealre
þisne norð ende” says the Worcester Chronicle. See N. C. vol. ii. p.
620.) The suggestion that these “churlish folk” (“multi villani” in
the translation in the Waverley Annals) were the men who had lost
their lands at the making of the New Forest has high authority in its
favour. It seems to have been first made by Palgrave (English
Commonwealth, i. 450), and it is supported by Lappenberg (ii. 175,
Thorpe 235). Still it is a simple guess, and I cannot say that to my
own mind it has any air even of likelihood. It arises, it seems to me,
from an exaggerated notion of the amount of havoc done at the making
of the New Forest, combined with a forgetfulness of the time which had
passed since that event. We cannot fix its exact date, but the Survey
shows that whatever was done in the New Forest, much or little was
fully done before 1085, and we are now in 1092.
* * * * *
The earliest official notice of Carlisle and Westmoreland, the Pipe
Roll of the 31st year of Henry the First, contains several interesting
entries. The city wall was building. There are entries, “in
operationibus civitatis de Caerleolio, videlicet in muro circa
civitatem faciendo” (p. 140), “in operatione muri civitatis de
Caerleolio” (p. 141), and (p. 142) “in liberatione vigilis turris de
Penuesel,” which needs a local expounder. Both in this roll and in the
rolls under Henry the Second we notice a mixture of personal
nomenclature, Norman, Danish, English, and Scottish, which is just
what we should look for. Distinctly British names I do not see. In the
first few pages of the roll of 1156 we find at least three Gospatrics.
One is very fittingly the son of Orm; another is the son of Beloc (6),
whose nationality may be doubted; a third is the son of Mapbennoc, a
clear Pict or Scot. So again we have Uhtred son of Fergus (p. 5),
William son of Holdegar, Æthelward [Ailward] son of Dolfin, hardly the
dispossessed prince. Swegen son of Æthelric [Sweinus fil. Alrici] in
the roll of Henry the First (142) is a local man; but Henry son of
Swegen, who comes often under Henry the Second, is the unlucky
descendant of Robert son of Wymarc. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 735. There
are a good many entries about the canons of Saint Mary of Carlisle who
were founded before the bishopric, in 1102 (see Haddan and Stubbs, ii.
13). There is a notice in 1156 (p. 3) of the Bishop of Candida Casa or
Whithern. That see was (Haddan and Stubbs, ii. 25) revived about 1127,
as suffragan of York, and 1156 is the date of the death of Æthelwulf
the first Bishop of Carlisle.
NOTE S. Vol. i. p. 329.
THE EARLY LIFE OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.
I quoted some of the passages bearing on the early life of Randolf
Flambard in N. C. vol. iv. p. 521. I mentioned there that he had a
brother named Osbern, who appears in the Abingdon History. He had
another brother Fulcher, of whom we shall hear again. See Ord. Vit.
788 D, and vol. ii. p. 416. He had also a son Thomas. I do not feel
quite so sure as I did then, or as Dr. Stubbs seems to be (Const.
Hist. i. 348), that he really did hold lands in England T. R. E. The
entry which looks like it is the second of the three in Domesday, 51,
which stands thus in full;
“Isdem Ranulfus tenuit in ipsa villa i. hidam, et pro tanto
se defendebat T. R. E. modo est tota in foresta exceptis
iiii. acris prati terra fuit iiii. carucatarum. Hæ duæ terræ
valebant iiii. libras.”
It appears then that Flambard lost the arable part of this hide at the
making of the New Forest, as he also lost another hide, with the same
exception of four acres of meadow, which had been held T. R. E. by one
Alwold. A third hide, of which it is said that “duo alodiarii
tenuerunt,” he kept, as well as his holdings in Oxford and
Oxfordshire. Dr. Stubbs suggests that these lands were “possibly
acquired in the service of the Norman Bishop William of London.” Sir
F. Palgrave (England and Normandy, iv. 52) makes the most of this
despoiling of a Norman holder. But I am not clear that the words of
the entry which I have given in full necessarily imply that the land
was held by Flambard himself T. R. E. And, if we need not suppose
this, his story becomes a great deal simpler. Above all, we need no
longer suppose that a man who lived till 1128, and whose mother was
living in 1100 (see vol. ii. p. 398), had made himself of importance
enough to receive grants of land at some time before 1066.
* * * * *
The account of Flambard which is given by Orderic (678 C) would
certainly not suggest that he had been in England in the time of
Eadward;
“Hic de obscura satis et paupere parentela prodiit, et
multum ultra natales suos ad multorum detrimentum sublimatus
intumuit. Turstini cujusdum plebeii presbyteri de pago
Bajocensi filius fuit, et a puerilibus annis inter
pedissequos curiales cum vilibus parasitis educatus crevit,
callidisque tergiversationibus et argutis verborum
machinationibus plusquam arti literatoriæ studuit. Et quia
semetipsum in curia magni regis Guillermi arroganter
illustribus præferre ardebat, nesciente non jussus, multa
inchoabat, infestus in aula regis plures procaciter
accusabat, temereque majoribus quasi regia vi fultus
imperabat.”
It is not easy to reconcile this with the version which makes Flambard
pass into the King’s service from that of Bishop Maurice, who did not
become bishop till Christmas, 1085. The story of his service with
Maurice appears in the account of him which is printed in Anglia Sacra
(i. 705), and also along with Simeon (249 ed. Bedford, and X Scriptt.
59). It is much more likely that the name of the bishop should be
wrongly given than that his service with some bishop of London should
be mere invention. If so, he may have passed into the service of the
Conqueror at almost any time of his reign, while still so young that
it becomes an easy exaggeration on the part of Orderic to say that he
was in the King’s service from his childhood. The passage in the Life
which continues Simeon stands thus;
“Fuerat autem primo cum Mauritio Lundoniensi episcopo; sed
propter decaniam sibi ablatam orto discidio, spe altioris
loci se transtulit ad regem.”
This must surely refer to something which really happened; and in the
Register of Christchurch Twinham (Mon. Angl. vi. 303) we distinctly
read of Flambard, “qui Randulphus antea fuerat decanus in ecclesia
Christi de Twynham.” But this is directly followed by another extract
from the same register which denies that the heads of the church of
Twinham ever bore the title of dean, and which connects Flambard with
Twinham in quite another way. According to this story, there were at
Twinham in the time of William Rufus twenty-four canons under a chief
named Godric (“Hunc Godricum sui tunc temporis clerici, non pro
decano, quasi nominis ignorantes, sed pro seniore ac patrono
venerabantur”). Flambard, already bishop of Durham, obtains a grant of
Twinham and its church from William Rufus (“Randulfus episcopus hanc
ecclesiam cum villa a rege Willielmo impetravit”). If I rightly
understand a very corrupt text, Flambard enriches the church and
designs to rebuild it, and then to put in monks instead of canons;
meanwhile he keeps the prebends vacant as they fall in. This Godric
opposes; but in the end Flambard rebuilds the church, and keeps the
prebends in his own hands till there are only thirteen left. Then
comes his own banishment, and the grant of the church to one Gilbert
de Dousgunels, after which Flambard seems to have had nothing more to
do with it.
It is odd that so many prebends should have become vacant in the
single year during which Flambard held the bishopric for the first
time, and one would not have expected him to have been a favourer of
monks. But I can get no other meaning out of the words “cupiens et
disponens … præfatam ecclesiam … funditus eruere, et meliorem
decentioremque cuilibet ædificare religioni.” What comes after seems
plainer still;
“Fregit episcopus illius loci primitivam ecclesiam, novemque
alias quæ infra cimiterium steterant, cum quorundam domibus
canonicorum prope locum ecclesiæ cimiterii, et officinarum
compenciorem [?] faciendum et canonicis in villa congruum
immutationem [sic] ut dominus adaptavit locum. Fundavit
equidem hanc ecclesiam episcopus Randulfus quæ nunc est apud
Twynham, et domos et officinas cuilibet religioni. Obeunte
canonicorum aliquo, ejus beneficium in sua retinebat
potestate, nulli tribuens alii, volens unamquamque dare
præbendam religioni, si eos omnes mortis fortuna in suo
tulisset tempore.”
Now all this can hardly have happened between Flambard’s consecration
in 1099 and his imprisonment in 1100. But he may have had the grant of
Twinham before he was bishop. Again, in two charters (Mon. Angl. vi.
304), granted by the elder Baldwin of Redvers, we hear of deans of
Twinham and of “Ranulfus decanus,” which seems to mean Flambard
himself. The lands of the canons of Twinham are entered in Domesday,
44; but there is no mention of Flambard.
We thus have the absolutely certain fact that Flambard held lands near
Twinham. In two independent sources he is said to have been dean of
Twinham. In another independent source he is said to have held and
lost some deanery not named. In yet another story he is described, not
as dean of Twinham, but as doing great things at Twinham in another
character. These accounts cannot literally be reconciled; but they
certainly point to a connexion of some kind between him and the church
of Twinham.
We must indeed mourn the loss of the primitive church of Twinham with
its nine surrounding chapels, something like Glendalough or
Clonmacnois. The nave of the present church may well be Flambard’s
work; but it has no special likeness to his work at Durham. But this
may only prove that he built it before he went to Durham, and there
learned the improvements in architecture which had been brought in by
William of Saint-Calais (see N. C. vol. v. p. 631). The seculars of
Twinham made way for Austin canons about 1150.
While speaking of Twinham, I must correct a statement which I made
long ago with regard to one of the chief worthies of my earlier story.
I said (N. C. vol. ii. p. 33) that Earl Godwine was “nowhere enrolled
among the founders or benefactors of any church, religious or
secular.” I find him enrolled among the benefactors of Twinham. And
here again we mark that, as with his wife (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 358)
and his son, his bounty goes to the seculars. The passage, in one of
the charters of the elder Baldwin of Redvers granted to Hilary Dean of
Twinham (Mon. Angl. vi. 304), stands thus;
“Ecclesiam de Stoppele cum omnibus quæ ad eam spectant; unam
virgatam terræ cum appendiciis in eadem villa _ex dono
Godwini comitis_, quam Orricus de Stanton eidem Christi
ecclesiæ violenter surripuit.”
I cannot identify this “Orricus de Stanton” in Domesday, nor do I know
anything as to the genuineness of the charter. But no one in the
twelfth century or later would be likely to invent a benefaction of
Earl Godwine.
* * * * *
Orderic, in the passage quoted above (678 C), distinctly speaks of
Randolf as having been in the service of the Conqueror, and it must
have been in his court that he got the surname which, in so many
forms, has stuck to him, and which we find even in Domesday (see N. C.
vol. iv. p. 521). The way in which he came by it is thus
described――his false accusations have just been mentioned;
“Unde a Roberto dispensatore regio Flambardus cognominatus
est, quod vocabulum ei secundum mores ejus et actus quasi
prophetice collatum est. Flamma quippe ardens multis factis
intulit genti novos ritus, quibus crudeliter oppressit
populorum cœtus, et ecclesiæ cantus temporales mutavit in
planctus.”
In this last piece of rhetoric we seem to lose the real reason why he
was called _Flambard_, which is not very clear: still less do we get
any explanation of the form “_Passe_flambard.” Lappenberg (ii. 167)
says “er habe den Beinamen von der Fackel wegen seiner schon früh
bewährten Habsucht erhalten.” But one has some fellow-feeling with his
translator (225)――if he would only have written English to match
Lappenberg’s German――“It is not easy to conceive how the sobriquet of
_Flambeau_ could be given to an individual on account of his
covetousness.” Nor is it quite clear that it is covetousness strictly
so called of which Orderic speaks. He says elsewhere (786 D); “Erat
sollers et facundus, et, licet crudelis et iracundus, largus tamen et
plerumque jocundus, et ob hoc plerisque gratus et amandus.”
In a letter to Pope Paschal (Epp. iv. 2) Anselm seems quite carried
out of his usual mildness of speech by the thought of Flambard,
especially by the thought of his being made a bishop. The letter must
have been written just after Paschal and Flambard had received their
several promotions. We get the same derivation of the name as in our
other extracts; “Quando de Anglia exivi, erat ibi quidem professione
sacerdos [see p. 330], non solum publicanus, sed etiam publicanorum
princeps infamissimus, nomine Ranulphus, propter crudelitatem similem
flammæ comburenti, promine Flambardus; cujus flamma qualis sit, non in
Anglia solum, sed in exteris regnis longe lateque innotuit.”
Lappenberg, in the passage quoted above, refers to Thierry’s wonderful
account of Flambard (ii. 141);
“Renouf Flambard, évêque de Lincoln, autrefois valet de pied
chez les ducs de Normandie, commettait, dans son diocèse, de
tels brigandages, que les habitants souhaitaient de mourir,
dit un ancien historien, plutôt que de vivre sous sa
puissance.”
I cannot find that Thierry speaks of Flambard anywhere else. The
“valet de pied” must come from the bit in Orderic about the
“pedissequi curiales.” The rest, including the wonderful confusion
which makes him bishop of Lincoln, comes, as Lappenberg points out,
from a passage in the Winchester Annals, 1092 (cf. 1097), which I
shall presently have to refer to. But it is really amazing that
Flambard’s loss of property in the New Forest did not cause him to be
brought in at some stage or other as an oppressed Saxon.
NOTE T. Vol. i. p. 333.
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 _Passe_flambardus.”)
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.
NOTE U. Vol. i. p. 332.
THE ALLEGED DOMESDAY OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.
I suppose that the story about a new Survey of England, to which Sir
Francis Palgrave attached such great importance, may be held to be set
aside by the remarks of Dr. Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 302, 348. He rules
that in all likelihood Flambard had a hand in the real Domesday, and
that Orderic simply made a mistake as to the date, which he is not at
all unlikely to have done. Long before Dr. Stubbs wrote, I had come to
the conclusion that the story in Orderic, as it stood, could not be
accepted. It is found in Orderic’s first account of Flambard (678 C),
where he tells us that he persuaded William Rufus to make a new Survey
of England. He measured, we are told, by the rope――according, as it
would seem, to the measure of Normandy instead of the measure of
England――in order in some way to increase the King’s revenue. The
words stand thus;
“Hic juvenem fraudulentis stimulationibus inquietavit regem,
incitans ut totius Angliæ reviseret descriptionem,
Anglicæque telluris comprobans iteraret partitionem,
subditisque recideret, tam advenis quam indigenis, quicquid
inveniretur ultra certam dimensionem. Annuente rege, omnes
carucatas quas Angli hidas vocant, funiculo mensus est et
descripsit; postpositisque mensuris quas liberales Angli
jussu Eduardi regis largiter distribuerant imminuit, et
regales fiscos accumulans colonis arva retruncavit. Ruris
itaque olim diutius nacti diminutione et insoliti vectigalis
gravi exaggeratione, supplices regiæ fidelitati plebes
indecenter oppressit, ablatis rebus attenuavit, et in nimiam
egestatem de ingenti copia redegit.”
I do not profess to know exactly what Flambard is here supposed to
have done. Sir Francis Palgrave goes into the matter at some length,
both in his English Commonwealth (ii. ccccxlvii) and in his History of
Normandy (iv. 59). If I rightly understand his meaning, the _carucata_
in the valuation of the Conqueror was not an unvarying amount of the
earth’s surface, but differed according to the nature of the land. A
carucate of good land would consist of fewer acres than a carucate of
bad. Flambard, we are to understand, measured out the land by the rope
into carucates of equal size, and exacted from each the full measure
of the geld. That is to say, an estate consisting mainly of poor land
would be reckoned at many more carucates, and therefore would have to
pay a much higher tax, than it had before. I do not say that this may
not be the meaning; but the words of Orderic read to me as if they
applied to an actual taking away of land, as well as to a mere
increase in its taxation. One might almost fancy that, if a man had
land of greater extent than answered to his number of carucates
according to the new reckoning, the overplus was treated as land to
which he had no legal claim, and was therefore confiscated to the
crown. But the real question is whether anything of the kind happened
at all. It is not mentioned by any writer except Orderic, and it is
the kind of thing about which Orderic in his Norman monastery might
not be very well informed. It should be remembered, as Lappenberg (ii.
168 of the original, 226 of the English translation) remarks, that
Orderic makes no distinct mention of the real Domesday Survey, and
this statement may very well have arisen from a confusion between the
great Survey of the Conqueror and some of the local surveys of which
there were many. Sir Francis Palgrave believed that he had found a
piece of Flambard’s Domesday in an ancient lieger-book of Evesham
abbey, which the mention of Samson Bishop of Worcester fixes to some
date between 1096 and 1112. Of the genuineness of the document there
is no doubt; but I cannot see, any more than Lappenberg did, any
reason for supposing it to be anything more than a local survey. The
passage printed by Sir Francis Palgrave, which he compares with the
corresponding part of the Exchequer Domesday――to which it certainly
has no likeness――relates wholly to the two towns of Gloucester and
Winchcombe, so that it gives no means of seeing whether the number of
carucates in any particular estate differs in the two reckonings.
I cannot believe with Lappenberg that “Henricus comes,” who appears
among a crowd of not very exalted people as the owner of one burgess
at Gloucester, is the future King; it is surely Henry Earl of Warwick.
Dr. Stubbs, while rejecting Orderic’s story altogether, further
rejects Sir Francis Palgrave’s explanation of it. He merely hints that
Orderic “may refer to a substitution of the short hundred for the long
in the reckoning of the hide of land.” But it is safer to look, as he
does, on the whole story as a misapprehension.
Of this way of measuring by the rope――whence the _Rapes_ in
Sussex――several examples are collected by Maurer, Einleitung zur
Geschichte der Mark- Hof- Dorf- und Stadtverfassung, 72. 135. Cf.
Herodotus, vii. 23; ὤρυσσον δὲ ὧδε· δασάμενοι τὸν χῶρον οἱ βάρβαροι
κατὰ ἔθνεα, κατὰ Σάνην πόλιν σχοινοτενὲς ποιησάμενοι. [ôrysson de
hôde; dasamenoi ton chôron hoi barbaroi kata ethnea, kata Sanên polin
schoinotenes poiêsamenoi.] In Sussex itself we have (see above, p. 68)
the story of the measuring of the _lowy_ of Lewes by the rope, which
is at least more likely than the story told by the same writer (Will.
Gem. viii. 15) that the earldom of Hereford passed in this way to
Roger of Breteuil; “Cui comitatus Herefordi funiculo distributionis
evenit.”
The practice, in short, was so familiar that in the Glossary of
Rabanus Maurus (Eckhardt, Rer. Franc. Or. ii. 963) “funiculum” is
explained by _lantmarcha_ (cf. Du Cange in “funiculus”). So Suger (c.
15, Duchèsne, iv. 296) says how the Epte “antiquo fune geometricali
Francorum et Danorum concorditer metito collimitat.”
NOTE W. Vol. i. p. 337.
THE DEALINGS OF WILLIAM RUFUS WITH VACANT BISHOPRICS AND ABBEYS.
The chief point to be insisted on is that the appropriation of the
revenues of vacant bishoprics and abbeys by the King was an innovation
of William Rufus on the suggestion of Flambard. Such a thing may
possibly have happened before, though I am not prepared at this moment
with an instance; but, if so, it was merely a case of the irregular
way in which Church property, and all property, was often dealt with
by those who had the power. It was not a logical deduction from any
legal principle, such as it at once became when Flambard had
established the doctrine that the greater Church benefices were fiefs
held of the King by military service. The passage in the Chronicle
which I have quoted at p. 348 does not say in so many words that the
practice was an invention of Rufus or his minister, though the tone of
the passage certainly implies that their doings were something new.
Other writers speak more distinctly.
Next in authority to the Chronicler comes Eadmer, who is naturally
full on the subject. He tells us in detail (Hist. Nov. 14) how Rufus
dealt with the Church of Canterbury after the death of Lanfranc,
speaking more lightly of other cases as being of the same kind;
“Cuncta quæ juris illius erant, intus et extra per clientes
suos describi præcepit, taxatoque victu monachorum inibi Deo
servientium, reliqua sub censu atque in suum dominum redigi
jussit. Fecit ergo ecclesiam Christi venalem: jus in ea
dominandi præ cæteris illi tribuens, qui ad detrimentum ejus
in dando pretium alium superabat. Unde misera successione
singulis annis pretium renovabatur. Nullam siquidem
conventionem Rex stabilem esse sinebat, sed qui plura
promittebat excludebat minus dantem; nisi forte ad id quod
posterior offerebat, prima conventione vacuata, prior
assurgeret. Videres insuper quotidie, spreta servorum Dei
religione, quosque nefandissimos hominum regias pecunias
exigentes per claustra monasterii torvo et minaci vultu
procedere, hinc inde præcipere, minas intentare,
dominationem potentiamque suam in immensum ostentare.”
He goes on to tell of the sufferings of the monks and of their lay
tenants;
“Quidam ipsi ecclesiæ monachi malis ingruentibus dispersi ac
missi sunt ad alia monasteria, et qui relicti multas passi
tribulationes et improperia. Quid de hominibus ecclesiæ
dicam qui tam vasta miseria miseraque vastatione sunt
attriti, ut dubitarem, si sequentia mala non essent, an
salva vita illorum possent miserius atteri.”
He then mentions the like dealings with other churches, and adds the
emphatic words;
“Et quidem ipse primus hanc luctuosam oppressionem ecclesiis
Dei indixit, nullatenus eam ex paterna traditione excipiens.
Destitutas ergo ecclesias solus in dominio suo tenebat. Nam
alium neminem præter se substituere volebat quamdiu per suos
ministros aliquid quod cujusvis pretii duceret ab eis
extrahere poterat.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 314) is no less distinct as to the
difference between the practice of the two Williams, and as to the
agency of Flambard. Having given his character of him (see above, p.
558) he goes on;
“Hoc auctore sacri ecclesiarum honores, mortuis pastoribus,
venum locati; namque audita morte cujuslibet episcopi vel
abbatis, confestim clericus regis eo mittebatur, quo omnia
inventa scripto exciperet, omnesque in posterum redditus
fisco regio inferret. Interea quærebatur quis in loco
defuncti idoneus substitueretur, non pro morum sed pro
nummorum experimento; dabaturque tandem honor, ut ita dicam,
nudus, magno tamen emptus.”
He then goes on to contrast in a marked way the conduct of Rufus in
these matters with that of his father; “Hæc eo indigniora videbantur,
quod, tempore patris, post decessum episcopi vel abbatis omnes
redditus integre custodiebantur, substituendo pastori resignandi,
eligebanturque personæ religionis merito laudabiles; at vero pauculis
annis intercedentibus omnia immutata.”
Orderic has two passages on the subject. One of them (763 C) is a mere
complaint; “Defunctis præsulibus et archimandritis satellites regis
ecclesiasticas possessiones et omnes gazas invadebant, triennioque seu
plus dominio regis omnino mancipabant. Sic nimirum pro cupiditate
reddituum, qui regis in ærario recondebantur, ecclesiæ vacabant,
necessariisque carentes pastoribus Dominicæ oves lupinis morsibus
patebant.” In the other (678, 679) he distinctly speaks of Flambard’s
innovation, and goes more at length into the matter than any of the
other writers. He has given one of the descriptions of Flambard which
has been already quoted (see p. 559); and then goes on;
“Hujus consilio juvenis rex, morientibus prælatis, ecclesias
cum possessionibus olim sibi datis invasit, et tam in
abbatiis cœnobitas quam in episcopiis episcopales decanos et
canonicos cuilibet satellitum suorum subegit. Parcam autem
ad victum suum distributionem rerum eis delegabat, et
reliquos redditus suæ ditioni mancipabat. Sic avaritia regis
in ecclesia Dei nimis exarsit, et nefarius mos, _tunc
incœptus usque in hodiernum diem perseverans_, multis
animabus exitio fit. Hac enim de causa cupidus rex pastores
ecclesiis imponere differebat, et populus rectore et grex
pastore carens lupinis dentibus patebat, et multimodarum
toxicatis missilibus culparum sauciatus interibat.”
He then goes on to contrast the greediness and sacrilege of William
Rufus with the bounty of the ancient kings and nobles from Æthelberht
onwards. He again records and moralizes on the special innovation of
Rufus with regard to the treatment of ecclesiastical properties during
vacancies;
“Antequam Normanni Angliam obtinuissent, mos erat, ut dum
rectores ecclesiarum obirent, episcopus cœnobiorum quæ in
sua diocesi erant, res sollicite describeret et sub ditione
sua, donec abbates legitime ordinarentur, custodiret.
Similiter archiepiscopus episcopii res, antistite defuncto,
servabat, et pauperibus vel structuris basilicarum, vel
aliis bonis operibus, cum consilio domesticorum ejusdem
ecclesiæ distrahebat. Hunc profecto morem Guillelmus Rufus
ab initio regni sui persuasione Flambardi abolevit et
metropolitanam Cantuariæ sedem sine pontifice tribus annis
esse fecit ejusque redditus suis thesauris intulit. Injustum
quippe videtur, omnique rationi contrarium, ut quod Deo
datum est fidelium liberalitate principum, vel solertia
dispensatorum ecclesiasticæ rei laudabiliter est auctum,
denuo sub laicali manu retrahatur, et in nefarios sæculi
usus distrahatur.”
One effect of this practice must have been to make the monks and
canons of the cathedral churches specially anxious to establish their
distinct property in some part of the estates of the local church,
separate from the property of the bishop. Under Flambard’s system, all
the estates of the church were during a vacancy seized by the King,
who allowed the monks or canons only such a pittance as he thought
good. When episcopal and capitular estates were divided, when the body
of canons held certain estates, and each canon by himself held certain
others, all in _frank-almoign_, the seizure into the King’s hands of
the estates which the bishop held by military tenure made no
difference to the incomes of the canons.
NOTE X. Vol. i. p. 354.
THE APPOINTMENT OF HERBERT LOSINGA TO THE SEE OF THETFORD.
I have said something of the appointment of Bishop Herbert in N. C.
vol. iv. p. 420. The notices in our authorities are a little puzzling.
The Chronicle contains no mention of his appointment, but we read in
1094 (see p. 448) of his staff being taken from him by the King
(“Herbearde Losange þam bisceop of Theotfordan his stæf benam”). This
passage, of which I shall have to speak again, seems to have been
misunderstood by a copyist of Florence, who, instead of his genuine
text, has inserted the words which I have quoted in N. C. vol. iv. p.
420. This account would imply that Herbert bought both the bishopric
for himself and the abbey for his father in 1094. Then follows a
passage which is found in nearly the same words in both the works of
William of Malmesbury (Gest. Reg. iv. 339; Gest. Pont. p. 151);
“Verumtamen erroneum impetum juventutis abolevit pœnitentia,
Romam profectus severioribus annis; ubi loci simonicum
baculum et annulum deponens, indulgentia clementissimæ sedis
iterum recipere meruit. Domum vero reversus, sedem
episcopalem transportavit ad insignem mercimoniis et
populorum frequentia vicum nomine Nordevic, ibique
monachorum congregationem instituit.”
This would place the journey to Rome after 1094. But there can be no
doubt that Herbert received the bishopric in 1091, and that his
repentance and journey to Rome took place between that year and 1094.
He signs as bishop the charter of Osmund Bishop of Salisbury in 1091.
And if any suspicion is thought to attach to that instrument, the
profession rolls at Canterbury, as certified by Dr. Stubbs, are
evidence enough of his consecration and his profession to a future
archbishop. His consecration by Thomas of York is also recorded by T.
Stubbs, Scriptt. 1707. The true story is given in another manuscript
of Florence, the reading of which is given by Mr. Thorpe in a note,
and in which the entry of 1094 stands thus; “Ubi etiam Herebertum,
Theotfordensem episcopum, pastorali baculo privavit. Latenter enim
Urbanum papam adire, et ab eo pro episcopatu quem sibi, et abbatiam
quam patri suo Rotberto, ab ipso rege Willelmo mille libris emerat,
absolutionem quærere voluit.” The case seems quite clear. Herbert buys
the bishopric of the King; he repents, goes to Rome, and is reinvested
by the Pope. The King looks on this as an insult to the royal
authority and takes his staff from him. But he must have made his
peace with the King within the next two years. For at the end of that
time he began the translation of his see from Thetford to Norwich. The
Annals of Bartholomew Cotton (Anglia Sacra, i. 397) give 1091 as the
date of his appointment to Thetford, 1094 as the year of his
translation to Norwich, and 1096 as the beginning of the foundation of
the church of Norwich. And it appears from the local Annals of Saint
Eadmund’s (Liebermann, 275) that he was acting as bishop in
East-Anglia, whether by the style of Thetford or of Norwich, in 1095.
I cannot help thinking that the date assigned to the translation by
Bartholomew Cotton is really a confusion with the date of his
temporary deprivation. In either case he ceased to be Bishop of
Thetford in 1094; most likely he did not become Bishop of Norwich till
1096. It seems from the Norwich documents in Anglia Sacra (i. 397,
407; Mon. Angl. iv. 13-15) that he began to build the church of
Norwich in 1096, and planted monks there in 1101. The local writers
are full of panegyrics on his virtues. His letters are printed in the
series called Scriptores Monastici, but they do not contain much that
is of importance for our history. He has a few correspondents with
English names, one of whom, Ingulf by name, was Prior of the newly
founded monastery of Norwich.
* * * * *
A third manuscript of Florence, the text of which is printed by Mr.
Thorpe in a note, seems to follow the version which was acceptable at
Norwich and leaves out the deprivation in 1094; “Hoc anno [1094]
venerabilis Herbertus, Theotfordensis episcopus, a Roma cum
benedictione apostolica rediit: et a Willelmo rege impetravit ut sedes
episcopalis in Norwicensi ecclesia firmaretur, ubi ipse, Christi
juvante gratia, pulcherrimam congregationem monachorum ad honorem
Sanctæ Trinitatis adunavit.”
The account in William of Malmesbury (Gesta Regum, iv. 338, 339) is
evidently meant to make a striking rhetorical contrast between the
unregenerate Herbert who bought the see of Thetford and the converted
and sanctified Herbert who founded the church of Norwich. He becomes a
special enemy of the simony which he had himself once practised;
“Sicut tempore istius regis symoniæ causidicus, ita posterius
propulsator invictus, neque ab aliis fieri voluit quod a se præsumptum
quondam juvenili fervore indoluit.” His fuller picture in his earlier
state is that he was “magnus in Anglia symoniæ fomes, abbatiam
episcopatumque nummis aucupatus; pecunia scilicet regiam
sollicitudinem inviscans, et principum favori non leves promissiones
assibilans.” Then follow the well-known verses containing the lines
“Surgit in ecclesia monstrum, genitore Losinga.
* * * * *
“Filius est præsul, pater abbas, Symon uterque.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 339) makes one very singular remark in
recording the restoration of Herbert to his see by the Pope;
“Iterum recipere meruit; quod Romani sanctius et ordinatius
censeant ut ecclesiarum omnium sumptus suis potius marsupiis
serviant quam quorumlibet regum usibus militent.”
The fling at Roman greediness is in the true English style of all
times; but, in the connexion in which it stands, the idea which it
suggests is that Herbert, who had once bought his bishopric of the
King, bought it again of the Pope.
On the name _Losinga_ see De Rémusat, Anselme, 199; Diez,
Etymologisches Wörterbuch, i. 255. It seems to come from _laudare_.
NOTE Y. Vol. i. p. 374.
THE LETTERS OF ANSELM.
The letters of Anselm throw so much light on the events of the time,
they open to us so many bits of local and personal detail, both in
England and in Normandy, that we are not only thankful for the help
which they give us for this period, but sometimes feel a certain
grudge that we have no help of the same kind for earlier periods.
Anselm’s correspondents are found in all lands and in all ranks. All
his letters are of course in Latin, a tongue which must, one would
think, have in many cases needed to be interpreted to those to whom
the letters came. A touch or two in any natural language, whether
English, French, or whatever may have been the exact form of Romance
spoken at Aosta, would have been, not only a relief, but a precious
source of knowledge. But for this of course we must not look in these
times, whether from Anselm or from any one else.
In several places in the text I have used the letters of Anselm among
my most important materials. They form one of our sources for the
details of his own appointment to the archbishopric (see p. 400),
while his correspondence with Cardinal Walter has given us (see p.
537, and vol. ii. p. 41) some details not found elsewhere with regard
to the campaign against Robert of Mowbray. We have also had, in one of
his letters to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons (iii. 24, see p. 419),
Anselm’s fullest account of the questions which led to the Assembly at
Rockingham. The correspondence of course goes on into the reign of
Henry, and many of the letters which pass between the King and the
Archbishop are in fact state papers, and are, as such, inserted by
Eadmer in his history. The immediate historical value of these belongs
of course to a time later than that dealt with in the present volume.
But the whole series is full of matter bearing on English affairs, and
on the affairs of other persons and places in which we are interested.
I will therefore go on to mention some of the matters connected with
our own and kindred subjects which are suggested by the letters here
and there. Many are addressed to Lanfranc, Gundulf, Priors Henry and
Ernulf of Canterbury, and others who play parts of more or less
importance in our story. A good many are to princes of various lands,
many to devout ladies, with the names of some of whom, as those of
Countess Adela, the daughter of the Conqueror, and Countess Ida of
Boulogne, we are already familiar. There are also the special “ladies
and mothers” (dominæ et matres) of the church of Bec, who, without
embracing the monastic profession, had given themselves to a devout
life under the shadow of the monastery (Chronicon Beccense, Lanfranc,
ed. Giles, i. 202; De Nobili Crispinorum Genere, ib. 347; Anselm, Epp.
ii. 26, 51; iii. 138). These were Basilia the wife of Hugh of
Gournay――who himself, with Hugh of Meulan, the father of the famous
Count Robert, became a monk at Bec――her niece Amfrida, and Eva, the
widow of William Crispin. There are also a crowd of letters to
prelates, nobles, monks, nuns, and persons of all kinds, which throw
incidental light on various points in the history of the time.
The close connexion between Bec and England comes out very early in
the series. It is perhaps not inappropriate that the earliest mention
of England concerns its money, which was so much sought after beyond
sea. This is in i. 13, where a moneyer of Arras, who wishes to turn
monk, but who has first to pay his debts, is sent by Anselm, not yet
abbot, to Lanfranc, already archbishop, who will give him a hundred
shillings of English money towards paying them. In i. 15 he writes to
Henry, seemingly the future Prior of Christ Church, who was already in
England, with a piece of advice which we should hardly have expected
from Anselm. Being a monk, he is not to go into Italy to try to defend
his sister whom a certain rich man unjustly claims as a slave or
villain (“ire de Anglia in Italiam sororem tuam defendere, quam audis
quemdam divitem indebitæ servituti calumniose subjicere”). (It is less
unreasonable when (iii. 127) he counsels the nun Matilda not to go and
visit her lay kinsfolk.) In another letter (i. 35) Anselm speaks of
the number of Normans who were crossing into England, and how few of
them there were whom he could trust with a letter (“Licet multi
Northmanni ad Anglos transeant, paucissimi tamen sunt qui, me sciente,
hoc faciant; in quibus paucissimis vix est aliquis quem nostrum
legationem sine dilatione et non negligenter facturum confidam”). This
is written to Maurice, a monk of Bec, who, with some others, had moved
to Canterbury. Of the English monks at Bec (i. 65) I have already said
something (see p. 375). When Anselm becomes abbot, and has to deal
with the possessions of the monastery in England, the references to
English matters naturally thicken, as in ii. 3, 4, 5, 6. This last is
addressed to Richard of Clare and his wife Rohais or Rohesia, the
daughter of Walter Giffard, of whose name the old commentator Picard
oddly says, “insuper nomen Rohais pleno gutture personat Anglismum.”
The next letter (iii. 7) shows that some of the Normans who passed
into England did not always choose the best parts of our character to
copy. For a monk named Henry is rebuked for drinking to excess at
gild-meetings. Here an English word thrusts itself in, and we read,
“audio quia in multis inordinate se agit, et maxime inbibendo, ita ut
in _gildis_ cum ebriosis bibat et cum eis inebrietur.” In ii. 9 Anselm
records one of his own journeys to England, and his reception at
Lyminge by Lanfranc. We have more references to his own English
journeys and those of others in ii. 13, 18, 19, 26 (a most remarkable
one, of which I have spoken in N. C. vol. iv. p. 440), 27, 30, 45, 46
(where he prays for the forgiveness of a runaway monk called Moses of
Canterbury), 47, 53.
Anselm’s letters as archbishop are of course yet fuller of the English
history of the time. The first part of the third book is wholly taken
up with the correspondence following on his appointment to the
archbishopric. The second letter in this book is a most remarkable
letter from Anselm’s friend Osbern (see p. 374) strongly exhorting him
to accept the archbishopric. He is not to set up his own will against
the will of the whole English Church which calls for him as its chief;
“Ut enim in offenso dulcissimo mihi amore tuo loquar, aut
cunctis, quod non credimus, meliorem te fateberis, quippe
cui soli revelatum est quod universæ Anglorum ecclesiæ fas
non erat revelari; aut facias necesse est quod universalis
Anglorum ecclesia suadet, hoc est, ut pontificalis infulæ
principatum inter beatos apostolos sustinere non renuas.”
Osbern goes on to say that Anselm has already proof enough that it is
God’s will that he shall take the offered post. In so doing, he gives
a vivid picture of the circumstances of the appointment and of the Red
King’s momentary reform;
“Quid insignius ad te eligendum ostenderet Deus, quam, ut tu
promovereris, regem triumphis nobilem, severitate cunctis
formidabilem, lecto decubuisse, ad mortem usque ægrotavisse,
te autem provecto, statim eundem respiravisse, convaluisse,
atque ex fero et immani mitissimum pariter et mansuetissimum
redditum fuisse? Quid, inquam, aut effectum dulcius, aut ad
innocentiam præstantius, quam te ante lectum ægrotantis
violenter pertractum, dextram aliorum dextris impudenter de
sinu abstractam, sinistram, ne sororem juvaret, fortiter
retentam, virgam, ceteris digitulis pertinaciter occlusis,
pollici atque indici crudeliter impactam, post hæc toto
corpore e terra te elevatum, episcopalibus brachiis ad
ecclesiam deportatum, ibique adhuc te reclamante, et
importunis nimis obsistente, Te Deum laudamus esse cantatum?
Quid, inquam, vel ad divinas laudes magnificentius vel ad
humana spectacula gaudentius, quam quod in tua electione,
exclusis omnibus transactæ tempestatis afflictionibus, omnia
ad proprii juris possessionem veluti jubileo termino
cucurrerunt, dum vincti ad expeditionem, carcerati ad lucem,
captivi ad libertatem, oppressi dirissimis exactorum
furoribus redierint ad erectionem.”
Osbern clearly had an eye for the comic element in the amazing scene
at Gloucester. He then goes on, among other things, to enlarge on the
dignity of the church of Canterbury. By a bold figure, he conceives
Anselm at the last day called before the judgement-seat, because he
had slain thousands of men, while seeking for the safety of a few
(“cur non cogitabas infinita hominum millia te occidisse, dum paucorum
volebas saluti consulere”). The church of Canterbury, the bride of
Christ, consecrated from the beginning by the blessing of his Apostle
Peter――the same story which we have heard at Westminster (see N. C.
vol. ii. p. 511), and which is told in a slightly different, and still
more daring, shape at Glastonbury――enriched by the privileges of so
many popes, and to which, saving the authority of the Roman church
alone, all the other churches round about were used to look for the
defence of their freedom (“ad quam, salva Romanæ et apostolicæ sedis
auctoritate, omnium circa regionum ecclesiæ in suis oppressionibus
confugere atque ab ea tuendæ libertatis præsidia expetere simul ac
suscipere solebant”), now called on Anselm to come to the succour of
her liberties, and he refused. Osbern draws out this bold metaphor at
great length, and at last disposes of Anselm’s scruples about his
allegiance to the Norman Duke and to the church of Bec (“præmonstravi
oraculis, comprobavi miraculis; verum tu mihi prætulisti Normanniæ
comitem, Deo vermem, viventi mortalem, latitudini Anglorum angustæ
solitudinis nidum”). He draws largely on Canterbury legends about
Laurence and Dunstan, in order to set forth that church as specially
under the divine favour. He, Anselm, had been called in a special way
to be their successor (“cum neque sis privata gratia exhibitus, neque
mercenarius, neque Simonis discipulus, sed quem et divina vocavit
electio et apostolica informavit institutio”), and that call he was
bound to obey.
The word “mercenarius” in the extract just made is perhaps meant to
contrast the palpable purity of Anselm’s nomination with the
appointment of those bishops who, whether they actually bought their
sees or not, at least received them us the reward of temporal
services. There is another letter (iii. 5) from Osbern to Anselm,
which is simply an earnest prayer that he will no longer put off his
full admission to the archbishopric.
There are also several letters of Anselm (iii. 1, 4, 7), and one of
Gundulf (iii. 3), to the monks of Bec, to which some references have
already been made (see pp. 405, 406). There is also one (iii. 6) from
the monks of Bec to Anselm, announcing their consent to his acceptance
of the archbishopric. It describes the division in the convent, how
each monk gave his vote at the call of the president, whom, from this
form of words, we may suppose not to have been the prior (“omnes in
unum congregati sumus, unusquisque nostrum de sua sententia ab eo qui
præsidebat nominatim est requisitus”). The party which opposed
Anselm’s removal is described as “suo potius quam vestro utens atque
fidens consilio, ardentiori, atque, ut sibi videtur, rectiori, amoris
vestri zelo.” The monk Lanfranc, nephew of the Archbishop, a person
who is often mentioned in the letters, is to give Anselm a fuller
account (“quæ pars alteram aut numero aut ratione præponderet, domnus
Lanfrancus, qui interfuit, et omnia hic apud nos gesta sive dicta et
vidit et audivit, plenissime per seipsum et sufficienter vobis
dicit”). We have here a trace of that odd appeal from the “major pars”
to the “sanior,” which seems so utterly to upset every notion of real
election, but which is so often heard of in the ecclesiastical debates
of the time. The letter of the monks however, though not very
positively expressed, seems to have been taken as a release. Other
letters follow, in which Anselm recommends (iii. 8) William of
Montfort (see Vitæ Abbatum Beccensium, i. 313, Giles) as his successor
in the abbacy, and commands the Prior Baldric to keep his place,
whoever may be chosen abbot. In another letter (iii. 15) he announces
to the monks his coming consecration, and tells them that the King has
promised to protect all their rights in England as long as they live
according to Anselm’s counsel (“Rex Anglorum vobis mandat salutem et
auxilium suum et custodiam rerum vestrarum quæ sunt in sua potestate,
quamdiu meo consilio agetis et vivetis. Si autem illud spreveritis, in
illo proficuum non habebetis”). He writes also a letter (iii. 10) to
Bishop Gilbert of Evreux, of whom we have often heard, but who in
Migne’s text is strangely changed into “Eboracensis episcopus,”
explaining his motives for accepting the archbishopric. He writes to
the same effect (iii. 11) to Fulk Bishop of Beauvais.
Once settled in the archbishopric, Anselm has to write about other
matters. The affairs of his province bring much correspondence. Thus
he writes (iii. 20) to Bishop Osbern of Exeter and his canons on
behalf of the monks of Battle (“monasterium quod vulgo dicitur de
Batailla”), who held the church of Saint Olaf at Exeter (see N. C.
vol. ii. p. 350, vol. iv. pp. 166, 406; Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 64). He
urges that they may be allowed to ring their bells. In a letter (iii.
23) to Ralph Abbot of Seez, afterwards Anselm’s own successor, we get
a mention of Bishop Herewald of Llandaff (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 447,
692), who, it seems, like his brother bishop Wilfrith of Saint David’s
(see p. 534), had been suspended from the episcopal office;
“De fratre illo quem dicitis esse ordinatum a quodam
episcopo, quia a nobis est interdictus, hoc respondeo, quia
si ordinatus est ab episcopo de Walis, qui vocatur
Herewardus, nec illis ordinibus, quos ab illo accepit,
nostra concessione aliquando utetur, nec ab ullo episcopo
reordinari debet.”
The same letter contains Anselm’s views, not on any matter touching
Norman or English history, but on a point of obvious morality which
had been dealt with long ago by the singer of the Odyssey (i.
260-263);
“De altero vero fratre, qui herbas quæsivit mulieri, quibus
virum suum interficeret, quamvis prope vos habeatis de hac
re in Northmannia sufficiens consilium, tamen quia a me hoc
petitis, nostrum negare non debeo sensum. Si monachus noster
esset, et vir ille cujus morti quæsivit herbas ipsis
interfectus esset, nunquam ad diaconatum per me, vel ad
sacerdotium ascenderet.”
Next follows the great letter to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons, to which I
have often referred; and not long after come the important letters
(iii. 35, 36), of which also I have often spoken. In iii. 29 Anselm
writes to Prior Henry and the rest of the monks of Christ
Church――among them Anthony, Ernulf, and Osbern, all names known to
us――charging them to leave off disputes, and to enforce holy
obedience. Next (iii. 30) comes a letter to Matilda Abbess of Wilton
(Wintoniensis in Migne), urging obedience to the diocesan Bishop
Osmund of Salisbury. The house of Saint Werburh at Chester, in whose
foundation Anselm had had a hand, comes in several times for his
notice (iii. 34, 49). A crowd of letters bearing on points in the
history later than our time may be passed by, but there are two very
singular ones which throw a curious light on English nomenclature. In
iii. 133 we have a letter thus addressed;
“Anselmus archiepiscopus amico et filio carissimo Roberto,
et sororibus et filiabus suis dilectissimis Seit, Edit et
Hydit, Luverim, Virgit, Godit, salutem et benedictionem Dei
et suam, si quid valet.”
In the second letter, numbered in Migne iv. 110, the heading is,
“Anselmus archiepiscopus, Roberto, Seyt, Edit, carissimis suis filiis,
salutem et benedictionem Dei, quantum potest.” The persons addressed
seem to have been devout women of some kind, living under the
spiritual care of their confessor Robert. The letters tell us nothing
as to the position of the persons addressed; they contain nothing but
good advice which might be useful in any time or place; but the names
seem to have greatly perplexed the German and French biographers of
Anselm. Hasse (Anselm von Canterbury, i. 502) says, “Interessant ist
besonders ein Brief an die Nonnen eines Klosters in Wales, wie es
scheint,” and he adds in a note;
“Ich schliesse dies aus den Namen ‘Seit, Edit, Hydit,
Luverim, Virgit, Godit’ die in der Ueberschrift genannt
werden. Ob es wohl _weibliche_ Namen sind? In dem Briefe v.
16 [iv. 110, Migne] werden nämlich dieselben Personen als
_filii_ (wenn dies nicht ein Druckfehler ist) angeredet, die
hier [iii. 133, Migne] _filiæ_ heissen. Ein _celtisches_
Kloster war es jedenfalls; doch kann es auch in Irland oder
Schottland gewesen sein.”
M. de Rémusat (S. Anselme de Cantorbéry, 177) had yet further lights;
“On suppose qu’une lettre adressée à Robert _son ami et son
fils très cher, et à ses sœurs et filles bien-aimées_, qui,
toutes, portent de bizarres noms, a pour objet d’encourager
et de guider une congrégation de femmes qui, sous la
direction de quelques missionnaires, essayait de se former
dans une province Galloise.”
There is really something very amusing in the difficulties of these
scholars over a list of people one of whom bears the very commonest of
English female names at the time. M. de Rémusat at least knew the
earlier name of Queen Matilda, and can bring it in where it is not to
be found in his authorities. For he makes the abbess in the story of
Hermann of Tournay (see vol. ii. p. 32, and Appendix EE) enlarge on
“la beauté de la jeune Edithe,” though in that story she bears no name
at all. “Godit” too, that is “Godgyth” or “Godgifu,” is clear enough;
and a little knowledge of English nomenclature will carry us through
most of the others, even though some of them may be rare or unique.
“Seit” must he “Sigegyth,” a perfectly possible name. “Virgit” would
seem to be “Wergyth,” also quite possible, while “Luverim,” which the
manuscripts write in two or three ways, is surely a wild miswriting of
Leofrune, of a bearer of which name we have heard something in N. C.
vol. i. p. 352. “Hydit” is the only name on the list about which there
can be any real difficulty; it is clearly one of the _-gyth_ names,
though it is not easy to see what the first half of the name is. It is
perhaps a little odd when Anselm addresses Robert and his sisterhood
as “filii” in the second letter, but the form is surely a lawful
shortening of “filius et filiæ.” There is, one would think, a certain
pleasing international unity in this picture of a company of
Englishwomen, directed, it would seem, by a Norman priest, and so
lovingly addressed by a Burgundian archbishop. Anyhow there is no need
to doubt of the sex of Eadgyth and Godgyth, or to carry them off to
Wales, Scotland, Ireland, or anywhere but the land of their own
speech.
* * * * *
Anselm had other nuns and other devout women to write to and about,
besides the bearers of these supposed puzzling names. There are
several letters, as iii. 125, to a certain Abbess Eulalia. In iii. 70
he writes (in Henry the First’s time) to Athelis or Adeliza, Abbess of
Wilton (it is again Wi_n_tonia in Migne’s text), comforting her during
the banishment of William Giffard, bishop-elect of Winchester (see
vol. ii. p. 349). More important is the letter (iii. 51) in which he
sends the Archdeacon Stephen to hinder the abbess and nuns of Romsey
from paying the worship of a saint to some person lately dead (“Tunc
ex toto prohibeant ut nullus honor, qui alicui sancto exhiberi debet,
exhibeatur ab illis, aut permittant ab aliquo exhiberi mortuo illi
quem quidam volunt pro sancto haberi”). This reminds one of the story
of Abbot Ulfcytel and the worship of Waltheof (see N. C. vol. iv. p.
598); but we need not suppose, with the old commentator in Migne, that
the person worshipped was Waltheof himself. For it is added that the
son of the dead man is to be driven out of the town, and Waltheof left
no son. In iii. 84 he writes to Matilda, the first abbess of the house
of the Trinity at Caen (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 630), about her intended
resignation of her abbey. On other monastic affairs there are several
letters, as iii. 61, 118, about the affairs of the abbey of Saint
Eadmund, whose prior bears the English name of Ælfhere. He speaks of
their tribulations and the patience with which they bore them; the
letters therefore most likely refer to the difficulties which followed
the appointment of Abbot Robert (see p. 359). There are two letters
(iii. 100, 108) addressed to a monk Ordwine, in the latter of which he
is coupled with two others, Farman――can he be the aged friend of
Eadmer?――and Benjamin, which last name we should hardly have looked
for. The first letter is a very important one; it deals with the
subject of investitures, and distinctly shows that Anselm had no
objection of his own to investiture by the King;
“Non ego prohibeo per me a rege dari investituras
ecclesiarum, sed quia audivi apostolicum in magno concilio
excommunicare laicos dantes illas investituras et
accipientes, et qui accipientes sacrabunt, nolo communicare
excommunicatis nec fieri excommunicatus.”
This letter contains also a good deal about the relations of laymen to
churches as patrons or “custodes” (see p. 455, and N. C. vol. v. p.
501). In iii. 83, when already Archbishop, Anselm writes to Eustace,
the father of Geoffrey a monk of Bec, at his son’s instance, rebuking
him for a singular kind of bigamy. His wife, the mother of Geoffrey,
had become a nun, and he himself had taken a vow; but had nevertheless
married a second wife. Anselm argues that, whether he had taken a vow
or not, still, though his wife had become a nun, it is unlawful for
him to marry again during her lifetime. Of a more strictly domestic
nature are the letters to his sister Richera or Richeza, and her
husband Burgundius (iii. 63, 66, 67). Burgundius is meditating a
pilgrimage to Jerusalem; and he exhorts him so to order his affairs
before he goes that his wife may not lose her estate in case he dies
by the way.
* * * * *
Anselm’s correspondence with royal and princely persons in various
parts is very large. There are many letters to King Henry, in one of
which (iii. 79) he cannot keep himself from the established pun on the
name of Henry’s people. He prays, “Ut Deus vos et vestra sic regat et
protegat in gloria temporalis regni super Anglos, quatenus in æterna
felicitate regnare faciat inter angelos.”
He writes (iv. 81) a letter of rebuke to his old friend Earl Hugh,
about the captivity of one monk of Clugny, and the irregular burial of
another. He warns the Earl frankly; “Familiariter dico vobis, sicut
homini cujus honorem et utilitatem multum amo, quia si non feceritis
quod dico, inde blasphemabimini; et ego etiam si non fecero quod
ecclesiastica disciplina præcipit inde fieri, a multis blasphemabor.”
To his former enemy Count Robert of Meulan he writes a letter during
his second exile which is given by Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 82), where the
Count is addressed as “dominus et amicus;” in another (iv. 99) he is
advanced to “dominus et amicus carissimus,” and is addressed as
“vestra dilectio.” The subject of the letter is the endless dispute
between York and Canterbury. The mention of the younger Thomas as
archbishop-elect fixes the date to about 1108.
* * * * *
Among foreign kings and princes there is (iii. 65) a graceful letter
to his native sovereign, Humbert Count and Marquess, written, it would
seem, at the time of his first passing into Italy. Nearer to his
Norman and English dwelling-places, we find him receiving during his
exile a letter from King Philip (iv. 50) offering his sympathy and
help, and praying for a visit in his dominions, chiefly for the sake
of Anselm’s bodily health;
“Cæterum quia in loco corporeæ sanitati contrario exsulatis,
rogamus vos quatenus Galliam nostram vestro adventu visitare
dignemini, ibique affectum mentis meæ experiemini, et vestræ
consuletis sanitati. Valete.”
A letter to the same effect, which must belong to Anselm’s second
exile, follows from Philip’s worthier successor, Lewis (iv. 51).
Both the famous chiefs of the Cenomannian state came in for a share of
Anselm’s correspondence. In iv. 11 we have one letter of Anselm to
Hildebert, but it contains no historical information. There are
several (iii. 53, 160, 161, 162) from Hildebert to Anselm, all
theological, and in which we could have wished that the Bishop of Le
Mans could have brought himself to speak more civilly of the eastern
half of Christendom. More interesting is a letter (iv. 98) addressed
“Domino et amico, et in Deo dilectissimo Eliæ comiti,” full of praise
and affection for the noble Count, and granting him absolution for
some fault not described (“Absolutionem nostram, quam per eundem
fratrem, sicut ipse mihi retulit, a me petitis, et corde, et ore, et
scriptura dilectioni vestræ mitto, et quotidie pro vobis oro”).
To Countess Ida of Boulogne (see pp. 374, 384) he writes as an
intimate friend (iii. 56, 58). In the former of these we hear of her
chaplain Lambert, who was in England in her service. He seems to have
been a canon of some chapter, and to have been in danger of losing
part of the income of his prebend on account of his absence. To
Countess Clemence of Flanders, wife of Count Robert of Jerusalem and
niece of Pope Calixtus, he writes (iii. 59), praising her and her
husband, because certain abbots in Flanders are admitted without the
Count’s investiture;
“Relatum mihi est quosdam abbates in Flandria sic
constitutos ut comes vir vester nullam cis manu sua daret
investituram. Quod sicut non sine ejus prudenti _clementia_
ita non esse æstimo factum absque vestra _clementi_
prudentia.” The play on the Countess’s name reminds one of
King Robert and “O constantia martyrum.” In iv. 13 there is
a letter to Count Robert, to the same effect as that to his
wife.
But the care of Anselm extended to more distant, at least less known
lands. He has two letters (iii. 142, 147) to King Murtagh in Ireland;
but they deal only with the reforms needed in Murtagh’s own island.
So, at a later time than ours, he writes (iii. 132) a letter to
Alexander King of Scots, in which he mentions certain monks whom he
had sent into Scotland at the request of the late King Eadgar, of whom
he speaks most highly. When in a letter to a King of Scots we read
that “quidem reges, sicut David, sancte vixerunt,” we are apt to
forget that, in Alexander’s reign, the reference must still be to the
King of Israel. Where such a reference would have been strictly to the
merits of a predecessor, namely, in two letters to King Baldwin of
Jerusalem (iv. 10, 36), it is not found; and the exhortations are very
general.
* * * * *
Nor does Anselm forget the Scandinavian lands. He writes (iv. 92) a
letter of good advice to Hakon Earl of Orkney, who had received the
earldom of his father Paul after the death of Magnus of Norway. He
writes about the religious ignorance of the people, which he hopes
will be reformed by the bishop who had lately been sent to them. As
Hakon only received his earldom in 1105, this letter must belong to
the last years of Anselm’s life. The murder of Saint Magnus by Hakon,
followed by the murderer’s repentant pilgrimage to Jerusalem, did not
happen till after Anselm’s death (see Torfæi Orcades, p. 86, where the
date of Magnus’s murder is fixed to 1110). He has two letters (iii.
143, iv. 90) about the newly-founded archbishopric of Lund in Denmark.
At another end of Christendom he writes to Diacus, Bishop of Saint
James of Compostella. The Spanish Bishop asks for English help against
the Saracens, and he answers that England is so beset by wars at home
that he fears that no help can be given.
To the Popes Urban and Paschal he naturally writes some very important
letters, some of which have been already referred to. There is one
(iii. 37) to Urban, in which he sets forth his strong desire to come
to Rome, and alleges the wars which were raging everywhere as the
cause of the King’s unwillingness to let him go.
“Quia bellis undique quatimur, hostiles impetus indesinenter et
insidias adversantium metuimus, dominus noster rex extra regnum me
procedere hactenus non permisit, nec adhuc procedere posse ullatenus
assensit…. Sed inter hæc, quo labore, quaque anxietate gravatus, iter
arripere conarer, si omnipotens Deus et in regno Anglorum bella
sedaret, et in regnis et regnorum provinciis, per quas ad vos est
eundum, illam pacem tribueret, quemadmodum oporteret et expediret iter
ipsum explere liceret.”
This letter one would have been inclined to place in 1097; but, unless
we can understand the “regnum Anglorum” as taking in Wales, the
mention of wars would seem to fix it to the time of the rebellion of
Robert of Mowbray in 1095, when the war did indeed affect Anselm’s
movements. In the same letter he makes intercession for Fulk Bishop of
Beauvais, one of the prelates to whom he had written at the time of
his own appointment to the archbishopric (see iii. 11, and above, p.
576), on account of some matter which is not explained.
To Paschal he writes a most important letter (iii. 40) at some time
during the short interval between Paschal’s election and William’s
death; here he sets forth his own case very distinctly;
“Videbam in Anglia multa mala quorum ad me pertinebat
correctio, quæ nec corrigere nec sine peccato meo tolerare
poteram. Exigebat enim a me rex ut voluntatibus suis, quæ
contra legem et voluntatem Dei erant, sub nomine
_rectitudinis_ assensum præberem. Nam sine sua jussione
apostolicum nolebat recipi aut appellari in Anglia, nec ut
epistolam ei mitterem aut ab eo missam reciperem, vel
decretis ejus obedirem. Concilium non permisit celebrari in
regno suo ex quo rex factus jam per tredecim annos. Terras
ecclesiæ hominibus suis dabat; in omnibus his et similibus
si consilium petebam, omnes de regno ejus etiam suffraganei
mei episcopi negabant se consilium daturos nisi secundum
voluntatem regis.”
Here we have Anselm’s grievances very clearly set forth, and without
any kind of exaggeration or strong language of any kind. We may also
mark the legal term “rectitudo.” He next goes on to describe the
council of Winchester;
“Hæc et multa alia, quæ contra voluntatem et legem Dei sunt,
videns, petii licentiam ab eo sedem adeundi apostolicam, ut
inde consilium de anima mea et de officio mihi injuncto
acciperem. Respondit rex me in se peccasse pro sola
postulatione hujus licentiæ, et proposuit mihi ut aut de hac
re, sicut de culpa, satisfacerem, et securum illum redderem
ne amplius peterem hanc licentiam, nec aliquando apostolicum
appellarem, aut de terra ejus cito exirem.”
He then describes the dealings of the King with the estates of the see
after he was gone, and speaks of the dealings of Urban with the King,
in the style in which it was perhaps becoming to speak to a Pope of
the dealings of his predecessor;
“Rex, mox ut de Anglia exivi, taxato simpliciter victu et
vestitu monachorum nostrorum, totum archiepiscopatum invasit
et in proprios usus convertit. Monitus et rogatus a domino
papa ut hoc corrigeret contempsit, et adhuc in hoc
perseverat.”
He then asks the Pope that he may not be commanded to return to
England, “nisi ita ut legem et voluntatem Dei et decreta apostolica
voluntati hominis liceat mihi præferre: et nisi rex mihi terras
ecclesiæ reddiderit, et quidquid de archiepiscopatu propter hoc quia
sedem apostolicam petii, accepit.”
Presently a wholly new set of questions was opened by the accession of
Henry and the second controversy. Anselm’s account, it will be seen,
strictly agrees with the narrative of Eadmer, and we may again mark
that he does not speak of lay investitures as a grievance. That is to
say, William Rufus had not been to blame, or at least Anselm had not
found out that he was to blame, for continuing the ancient custom of
his kingdom. Henry was to blame because he claimed to continue that
right in the teeth of the new decrees, and of the new lights which
Anselm had learned from them.
NOTE Z. Vol. i. p. 395.
ROBERT BLOET.
There is something startling in the simple way in which the Chronicler
(1093) puts together the appointment of Anselm and that of Robert
Bloet; “And þæt arcebiscoprice on Cantwarbyrig, þe ær on his agenre
hand stód, Anselme betæhte, se wæs ær abbot on Bǽc, and Rodbeard
his cancelere þæt biscoprice on Lincolne.” Florence translates, with a
word or two of explanation inserted; “Insuper Anselmo Beccensi abbati
qui tunc _in Anglia morabatur_, Dorubernensem archiepiscopatum, et
cancellario suo Rotberto, _cognomento Bloet_, Lindicolinensem dedit
præsulatum.” But this way of speaking is quite of a piece with the
small amount of notice which the Chronicler seems throughout to give
to Anselm and his affairs. That is, we are used to read the story of
Anselm in Eadmer in the minutest detail, and we are surprised to find
his story told in the Chronicle only on the same scale as the stories
of other people.
We have heard of Robert Bloet before, as one high in the confidence of
both Williams, father and son (see vol. i. p. 13). As a bishop, he is
one of those persons of whom William of Malmesbury wrote an account
which he afterwards found it expedient to alter. In his received text
(Gest. Pont. 313) he is brought in in a singular and sneering way. The
writer had just recorded the death of Remigius before he was able to
consecrate the minster, and he then gives this account of his
successor;
“Rem dilatam successor ejus non graviter explevit, utpote
qui in labores alterius delicatus intrasset; Rotberto Bloet
homini nomen. Vixit in episcopatu annis paulo minus xxxᵗᵃ,
decessitque procul a sede apud Wdestoche, cum regio lateri
cum alio quodam episcopo adequitaret, subito fato
interceptus. Cetera satis suis hilaris et parum gravis,
negotiorum scientia secularium nulli secundus,
ecclesiasticorum non ita. Ecclesiam cui sedit ornamentis
pretiossissimis decoravit. Defuncti corpus exinteratum, ne
tetris nidoribus vitiaret aerem. Viscera Egnesham, reliqua
Lindocolinæ sepulta sunt. Monachos enim qui apud Stou
fuerunt vivens Eglesham [Egnesham] migraverat.”
Here we have the implied picture of a bishop of the more worldly sort,
and we can see that he was not in good favour with monks. But no
particular fault is brought against him. But in the earlier version,
the text, after the words “homini nomen,” reads, “Qui nihil unquam
pensi fecerit, quominus omnis libidinis et infamis et reus esset. In
cunctam religionem protervus, monachos Stou summoveri et apud Egnesham
locari jussit. Gratis malus et gloriæ antecessoris invidus, a vicinis
monachis sua commoda præverti causabatur. Quocirca, si monachi
Egneshamnenses Dei dono pulchrum incrementum acceperint, procul illi
gratias, quibus eximium se gloriabatur commodum inferre si vel illos
sineret vivere.”
There is enough here to show that Robert Bloet was thoroughly disliked
by the monks everywhere on account of his dealings with their brethren
at Stow in removing them to Eynsham. His dislike to monks is also
witnessed by the Chronicler, 1123, in recording the election of
William of Corbeuil to the see of Canterbury (see N. C. vol. v. p.
236); “Ðis wæs eall ear gedon ðurh se biscop of Seresbyrig, and þurh
se biscop of Lincolne, ær he wære dead, forði þet næfre ne luueden hi
munece regol, ac wæron æfre togænes muneces and here regol.”
On the other hand, Robert Bloet has not been without his admirers and
defenders both in his own time and since. Henry of Huntingdon, who was
brought up in his court, always speaks of him with the deepest
affection; and in our time he has found a gallant champion in Mr.
Dimock in his preface to the seventh volume of Giraldus, pp. xxiii. et
seq. Henry, like Florence, has the Chronicle before him in recording
the appointments of Anselm and Robert, and he too makes (vii. 3. p.
216) his insertions. With him the passage stands thus;
“Dedit [junior Willelmus] archiepiscopatum Cantuariæ Anselmo
abbati, viro sancto et venerabili. Roberto quoque cognomento
Bloet cancellario suo, dedit episcopatum Lincoliæ, quo non
erat alter forma venustior, mente serenior, affatu dulcior.”
Further on he records his death in 1123 (p. 244), and gives him a
splendid epitaph. He is “pontificum Robertus honor,” and his special
virtues fill two elegiac couplets;
“Hic humilis dives, (res mira,) potens pius, ultor
Compatiens, mitis cum pateretur erat.
Noluit esse suis dominus, studuit pater esse,
Semper in adversis murus et arma suis.”
He speaks of him again in the letter “de Contemptu Mundi” (p. 299),
where he gives a glowing description of the splendour of his court,
and speaks of him as “ipse quasi pater et deus omnium æstimatus,” and
as “justitiarius totius Angliæ et ab omnibus summe formidatus.” He
then goes on to quote him as an example, like so many others, of the
uncertainty of earthly prosperity. He tells how he was troubled before
his death by law-suits brought by some inferior justiciar, and then
records his death at Woodstock. He adds, “Fuit autem Robertus præsul
mitis et humilis, multos erigens, nullum deprimens, pater orphanorum,
deliciæ suorum.” Further on (p. 305) we learn that Robert Bloet had a
son named Simon, who was born before he was Bishop, but whom he made
Dean of Lincoln while he was very young. Simon’s prosperity and
unhappy end are also among the instances which are to lead to
“contemptus mundi.” He is thus brought in;
“Decanum nostrum Simonem non prætereo, qui filius Roberti
præsulis nostri fuit; quem genuerat dum cancellarius
Willelmi magni regis esset. Qui, ut decebat, regaliter
nutritus, et adhuc impubis decanus noster effectus, in
summam regis amicitiam et curiales dignitates mox provectus
est.”
We may be sure that it was the existence of this son which caused
Bishop Robert to be reproached with looseness of life. Yet Simon may
very likely have been born in lawful wedlock, though it is hardly safe
to assume with Mr. Dimock that he certainly was. But, when Robert had
once become an object of monastic dislike, stories grew as usual; it
was found out that his tomb in Lincoln minster was haunted. So says
the so-called Bromton (X Scriptt. 988), who is copied by Knighton
(2364);
“Episcopatum Lincolniensem, per mortem sancti Remigii
vacantem, Roberto cognomento Bloet cancellario suo, viro
quidem libidinoso, dedit, qui prædictam ecclesiæ
dedicationem Lincolniensis postea segniter explevit. Hic
demum apud Wodestoke a latere regis recedens obiit et
exenteratus est, cujus viscera apud monasterium de Eynesham
quod ipse fundaverit, cetera apud Lincolniam sunt humata,
ubi satis constabat loci custodes nocturnis umbris esse
agitatos, quousque ille locus missis et eleemosynis
piaretur.”
The reputation which Bishop Robert left behind him at Lincoln we learn
from Giraldus and John of Schalby in the seventh volume of Dimock’s
Giraldus. Giraldus himself (p. 31) brings him in as “prudentia et
probitate conspicuus.” He records his gifts to his church, and his
doubling the number of its prebends. From a Lincoln point of view, he
highly approves of the translation of the monks of Stow to Eynsham;
but he seems not to like the separation of Ely from the diocese of
Lincoln (see N. C. vol. v. p. 229), and he speaks of Robert’s
“inconsiderata largitio” and “alia sui deliramenta” in charging his
see with the gift of a mantle of sable, worth a hundred pounds, to the
King. John of Schalby (195) copies Giraldus, but abridges him, and
leaves out some of his epithets both of praise and blame.
* * * * *
The death of Bishop Robert in 1123 is recorded by several of our
writers, but there is no account so graphic as that in our own tongue.
The King is riding in his deerfold at Woodstock with the two bishops,
Robert of Lincoln and Roger of Salisbury, on either side of him. The
three ride and talk. The Bishop of Lincoln suddenly sinks, and says to
the King, “Lord King, I die (Laferd kyng, ic swelte).” The King gets
down from his horse, lifts him in his arms, and has him carried into
the house, where he soon dies (“Se king alihte dune of his hors, and
alehte hine betweox his earmes, and let hine beran ham to his inne,
and wearð þa sone dead”). Does this “inne” mean the King’s own house
at Woodstock, or any separate quarters of the Bishop, like the
“hospitium” of Anselm at Gloucester and elsewhere?
* * * * *
There is something odd in the Bishop’s last words being given in
English. The King knew that tongue, and the Bishop may very likely
have done so; but we can hardly fancy that they spoke it to one
another.
The name “Bloet,” according to M. de Rémusat (Anselme, 160), is the
same as “blond.”
NOTE AA. Vol. i. p. 553.
THE MISSION OF ABBOT GERONTO.
I am not aware that this mission of the Abbot of Dijon has hitherto
found any place in any narrative history of the times of William
Rufus. And I confess that it is not without a certain misgiving that I
bring it in. It is certainly remarkable that our own writers should
with one consent pass by an event of this kind; but it would be yet
more amazing if it were sheer mistake or invention on the part of the
foreign writer who records it. It is one of those cases in which,
without any actual contradiction, it is very hard to bring a certain
statement into its right place. There is nothing in the story told by
Hugh of Flavigny which is really inconsistent with the narrative of
Eadmer; our only difficulty is how it came that, if these things
happened, Eadmer, who could not fail to have known of them, did not
think them worthy of any place in his very minute narrative. This
difficulty we must get over how we can. Otherwise the evidence of Hugh
of Flavigny is in a certain sense as good as that of Eadmer himself.
He stood to Abbot Geronto in much the same relation in which Eadmer
stood to Anselm. In his narrative, Geronto is sent by the Pope on a
mission to Normandy and England, and Hugh himself, a monk of Geronto’s
monastery, comes with him. For the mere facts therefore of Geronto’s
mission Hugh is as good a witness as Eadmer; but, as a foreigner on a
short visit, he could not be expected to have the same thorough
knowledge of English affairs as Eadmer, or any other English, or even
Norman, writer. There is to us at least something very strange in his
tone towards Anselm, or rather in the lack of any mention of Anselm at
all. He never speaks of him by name, and the only fact which he
records of him is the very strange one which I have mentioned in p.
535, that at some time, seemingly at the reception of the pallium,
Anselm took an oath to the Pope, with a reservation of his duty to the
King. One hardly sees how far he means to blame Anselm. The person
chiefly blamed is Cardinal Walter; Anselm comes in, in a strange
casual way, between the King and the Cardinal.
I have given the whole or nearly the whole of Hugh’s story in the
foot-notes to those parts of the text which are founded upon his
account. He goes on a little later in his story (Pertz, viii. 495,
496) to record the death of William Rufus, and to say something more
about English affairs in general. It is plain that his friends in
England found him perfectly ready to believe the wildest tales that
they chose to tell him. At the same time, the tales that they did tell
him are such as could hardly have come into any man’s head to tell,
except in the reign of William Rufus. It is Hugh of Flavigny who tells
us those specially amazing stories to which I have referred in vol. i.
p. 544 and p. 503. He has also (496) some odd notices of the dogs of
the city of London, which were small, but very fierce, and which
gathered together by night in front of Saint Paul’s church, so that no
one could dare to pass by. He has also a good deal to say about those
natural phænomena of the reign of which we have heard a good deal from
other writers. He tells the story of the storm which visited the
church of Saint Mary-le-bow, with some further embellishment, that
“quadros super muri altitudinem sitos, supra quos tectum stabilitum
erat, usque ad septem milliaria evolare fecit.” And while two servants
of the church were sleeping in one bed, a beam was driven down between
them into the earth without doing them any harm, except nearly
frightening them to death; “In eadem etiam ecclesia jacebat quidem
ædituus cum alio quodam in lecto uno, et inter medium eorum, cum
jacerent distante inter se spacio, una trabium vento acta per medium
lecti terram intravit, ut vix summitas ejus appareret, nec læsit
jacentes, nisi quod timore pene exanimati sunt.”
Hugh’s Chronicle, in two books, reaches from the Christian æra to the
year 1102. He was born at Verdun in 1065. He was a monk, first at
Verdun, then at Flavigny in the diocese of Toul, then at Dijon, and
lastly Abbot of Flavigny. Jarento or Geronto――I hardly know how to
spell his name――was in the close confidence of Gregory the Seventh and
his successors. There is a letter of Anselm’s (iii. 87) addressed to
Geronto; but it contains nothing bearing on his mission to England. It
is all concerned with the affairs of certain monks at Dijon and
Chartres.
NOTE BB. Vol. ii. p. 9.
THE EMBASSIES BETWEEN WILLIAM RUFUS AND MALCOLM IN 1093.
The fullest and clearest narrative of the transactions between William
Rufus and Malcolm which led to their rupture at Gloucester in 1093
comes from the Chronicle, while some particular points are given at
greater length by Florence. In the Chronicle the story runs thus;
“Ða æfter þisson sende [se] cyng of Scotlande and þære
forewarde gyrnde þe him behaten wæs, and se cing W. him
steofnode to Gloweceastre and him to Scotlande gislas sende,
and Eadgar æþeling æfter, and þa men syððan ongean, þe hine
mid mycclon wurðscipe to þam cynge brohtan. As þa þa he to
þam cynge com, ne mihte he beon weorðe naðer ne ure cynges
spæce ne þæra forewarde þe him ær behatene wæron, and forði
hi þa mid mycclon unsehte tohwurfon.”
Here we have very clearly an embassy of complaint sent by Malcolm to
William――an invitation or summons, whichever it is to be called, to
the Gemót at Gloucester sent by William to Malcolm and accompanied by
hostages for his safety――a second embassy from William to Malcolm,
with Eadgar at its head, in whose company Malcolm’s ambassadors went
back to Scotland and Malcolm himself came to England. All this is cut
short by Florence, who however distinctly affirms the going to and fro
of some embassies, while it is from him that we get the date and a
fuller account of what happened at Gloucester. His narrative stands
thus;
“Rex Scottorum Malcolmus, die festivitatis S. Bartholomæi
Apostoli [24 Aug.], regi Willelmo juniori, ut prius per
legatos inter eos statutum fuerat, in civitate Glaworna
occurrit, ut, sicut quidam primatum Angliæ voluerunt, pace
redintegrata, stabilis inter eos amicitia firmaretur; sed
impacati ab invicem discesserunt; nam Malcolmum videre aut
cum eo colloqui, præ nimia superbia et potentia, Willelmum
despexit.”
_Colloqui_ is the technical word which we so often come across. The
meeting of the two kings would have been a _colloquium_ or
_parliament_. It is from Florence again that we get all the technical
law. His account goes on thus;
“Insuper etiam illum [Malcolmum] ut secundum judicium tantum suorum
[Willelmi] baronum, in curia sua rectitudinem ei faceret, constringere
voluit; sed id agere, nisi in regnorum suorum confiniis, ubi reges
Scottorum erant soliti rectitudinem facere regibus Anglorum, et
secundum judicium primatum utriusque regni, nullo modo Malcolmus
voluit.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 311) loses the fact of the embassies and
the summons in a cloud of words;
“Multis controversiis utrobique habitis, et fluctuante
propter utrorumque animositatem justitia, Malcolmus ultro
Gloecestram venit, æquis duntaxat conditionibus, multus pro
pace precator.”
With regard to more modern discussions, I do not know that I can do
more than give the reader the same references which I gave in N. C.
vol. v. p. 120. But Mr. Robertson (i. 144 note) certainly has reason
when he says that “it does not follow that Malcolm spoke feudal Latin
because Florence wrote it.” One would be glad to have the actual words
in French, English, or, more precious than all, Irish. (This sets one
thinking what languages Malcolm may have spoken. We know that he
understood English, whether he learned it at the court of Eadward, or
afterwards from his wife. In one or other of those schools he would
most likely also pick up French. Margaret herself may also have
learned High Dutch, and possibly Magyar, from her parents.) But I can
make nothing of Mr. Robertson’s strange comment that “it is singular
to mark how nearly all the English authorities accuse Malcolm of ‘a
breach of faith’ because he resented the conduct of William, whilst
they pass over without notice the glaring ‘breach of faith’ on the
part of their own king.” Who charges Malcolm with any breach of faith,
except William of Malmesbury in the almost casual passage, iii. 250?
And what more could he wish the Chronicler and Florence to say against
William Rufus than what they do say? Mr. Robertson’s criticism is more
to the purpose when he attacks the words of William of Malmesbury, iv.
311; “Nec quicquam obtinuit, nisi ut in regnum indemnis rediret,
dedignante rege dolo capere quem virtute subegisset.” He remarks that
“the safe-conduct and the hostages detract something from this much
vaunted magnanimity, but Malmesbury would sacrifice a good deal for
the sake of a well-turned period.” It is certainly hard to see what
William had done to Malcolm which could be called “virtute subegisse;”
but Mr. Robertson fails to notice that this particular scruple is
characteristic of William Rufus. Careless of his faith in so many
other cases, he is always careful to observe a safe-conduct.
NOTE CC. Vol. ii. p. 16.
THE DEATH OF MALCOLM.
The last invasion of England by Malcolm was clearly made in reprisal
for the treatment which he had received at Gloucester. The words of
the Peterborough Chronicler are very remarkable. They seem to describe
a war which is acknowledged to be just in itself, but which is carried
on with needless cruelty;
“And se cyng Melcolm ham to Scotlande gewænde. Ac hraðe þaes
þe he ham com he his fyrde gegaderode.”
Most of the other writers fail to bring out the connexion both of time
and of cause and effect between the scene at Gloucester and the
invasion which led to Malcolm’s death at Alnwick. Perhaps we may count
Matthew Paris, the zealous panegyrist of Malcolm, as an exception. He
has nothing to tell us about Malcolm’s coming to Gloucester; but,
having mentioned William’s sickness there, which he wrongly places in
1092, he goes on (i. 43);
“Eodem anno pius rex Scotorum Malcolmus, cujus actus in
benedictione vivunt immortales, cum non immerito contra
tirannum Willelmum II. regem sibi injuriantem guerram
movisset, interceptus est subito et, positis insidiis,
interemptus.”
So in a later passage (i. 47) he speaks of Robert of Mowbray
overcoming Malcolm “proditiose.” Moreover several even of the English
writers seem to imply that there was something treacherous about the
way in which Malcolm met his death. The words of the Chronicler are,
“hine þa Rodbeard se eorl of Norðhymbran mid his mannan unwæres
besyrede and ofsloh.” And directly after he describes the grief of
Margaret on hearing “hyre þa leofstan hlaford and sunu þus
_beswikene_.” William of Malmesbury mentions the death of Malcolm
twice, and in rather different tones. The first time (iii. 250) he
seems to jumble up together Malcolm’s two invasions, leaving out all
about the meeting at Gloucester. He had said that through the whole
reign of the Conqueror Malcolm “incertis et sæpe fractis fœderibus
ævum egit,” and adds;
“Filio Willelmi Willelmo regnante, simili modo impetitus,
falso sacramento insequentem abegit. Nec multo post, dum
fidei immemor superbius provinciam inequitaret, a Roberto de
Molbreia comite Northanhimbriæ, cum filio cæsus est.”
In the second place (iv. 311), after describing the meeting at
Gloucester, he adds; “Idem proxima hyeme, ab hominibus Roberti comitis
Humbrensium, magis fraude quam viribus occubuit.” No one would think
from this that Malcolm had gone back to Scotland, got together his
army, and invaded Northumberland. It would rather suggest the idea
that he was attacked on his way back from Gloucester. And this comes
out more strongly in the very confused account of Orderic, 701 C. He
mixes up the events of 1091 and 1093. After the first conference by
the Scots’ water, the two kings go quietly together into England; then
we read;
“Post aliquod tempus, dum Melcoma rex ad sua vellet remeare,
muneribusque multis honoratus a rege rediret pacifice, prope
fines suos Rodbertus de Molbraio, cum Morello nepote suo et
militibus armatis occurrit, et ex insperato inermem
interfecit. Quod audiens rex Anglorum, regnique optimates,
valde contristati sunt, et pro tam fœda re, tamque crudeli,
a Normannis commissa, nimis erubuerunt. Priscum facinus a
modernis iteratum est. Nam sicut Abner, filius Ner, a Joab
et Abisai, de domo David pacifice rediens, dolose peremptus
est, sic Melcoma rex, de curia Guillelmi regis cum pace
remeans, a Molbraianis trucidatus est.”
This is one of those sayings of Orderic by which we are now and then
fairly puzzled. He gets hold of a scriptural or classical parallel,
and seems to be altogether carried away by it. It is hard to see the
likeness between the cases of Malcolm and Abner; but it is harder to
see why the deed is in a marked way attributed to “Normanni,” who seem
to be distinguished from the “rex Anglorum regnique optimates.” In
what sense were Morel and Robert of Mowbray Norman, in which the King
and the great mass of the “optimates” were not Norman just as much?
Confused as these two last accounts are, they still suggest that there
was something about the way in which Robert and Morel contrived the
death of Malcolm which William Rufus would have looked on as not quite
consistent with the character of a “probus miles.” The one word
“beswikene” in the Chronicle doubtless goes for more than any amount
of Latin rhetoric, though its force is a little weakened by its not
occurring in the actual narrative of Malcolm’s death, but in the
account of Margaret’s grief at hearing of it, at which point most of
our writers put on more or less of the tone of hagiology. But the only
writer who gives us any details is Fordun (v. 20), in a passage which
professes to come from Turgot, on which see the remarks of Mr. Hinde
in his Simeon, p. 261. In his story we read how Malcolm,
“Cum maximam prædam ex Anglia, more solito, ultra flumen
These, de Clefeland, Richemond, et alibi sæpius adduceret,
castrumque de Aylnwick, sive Murealden, quod idem est,
obsideret, obsessosque sibi rebellantes oppido affligeret,
hi, qui inclusi fuerant, ab omni humano excludebantur
auxilio.”
The besieged, having no other chance, take to treachery. One man
offers himself to go on the desperate venture; he makes his way to the
Scottish camp, and asks for the King;
“Quærentibus causam inquisitionis dixit, se castrum regi
traditurum, et in argumentum fidei claves ejusdem in hasta
sua coram omnibus portavit oblaturus. Quo audito rex, doli
nescius, incaute a tentorio inermis exiliens et minus
provide, occurrit proditori; at ille, quæsita opportunitate,
inermem regem armatus transfixit, et, latibula silvæ vicinæ
festinanter ingressus, eorum manus evasit.”
Then follows the death of the King’s son Eadward;
“Turbato igitur exercitu, dolor dolorem accumulat: nam
Eadwardus regis primogenitus a Northumbris lethaliter
vulneratur.”
He dies three days later “apud Eardwardisle foresta de Jedwood,” and
was buried at Dunfermline “juxta patrem.”
It is really impossible that this can be a genuine bit of Turgot.
There is nothing anywhere else about a siege of Alnwick, and Mr. Hinde
pertinently raises the question whether there was anything at Alnwick
to besiege. At any rate, it is strange that the defenders of Alnwick,
or anybody else whom Malcolm might come across in Northumberland,
should be called “rebellantes” against him. There is a very mythical
sound about the alleged form of Malcolm’s death. In the Tapestry (see
N. C. vol. iii. p. 240) keys are handed to a victorious besieger on
the point of a spear; but it is from the walls of the besieged place,
and they are received in the like sort. They surely would not be
presented in this way in the King’s own camp. And, if Malcolm was
killed in this way, how came Eadward to be mortally wounded? Mr. Hinde
adds;
“The ridiculous tale of the person who pierced the king’s
eye, receiving from that exploit the designation of ‘Piercy,
quod Anglice sonat perforare oculum,’ is interpolated in
some MSS. of Fordun. This story must necessarily have been
invented after the Percy family became the possessors of
Alnwick, and so gave point, if not probability, to the
fiction.”
* * * * *
I suspect that Malcolm was killed in some ambush or in some other way
unlike open battle. Then sympathy for Margaret called up――except at
Durham and other parts more nearly concerned――sympathy for Malcolm.
Then the Chronicler, in this state of mind, used the harsh word
“beswikene,” and so a tale of actual treachery grew up. The version in
Fordun gives us the story in the form of a detailed legend; in Orderic
the tale itself is still vague; but the events which went before are
so altered as to make any attack on Malcolm treacherous. In that
version, he is going home from the King’s court in the King’s peace.
In the true version, he is invading England, perhaps on just grounds
in his own eyes, certainly on grounds which made his invasion by no
means wonderful. Still resistance to him was a rightful operation of
war, unless there was any actual treachery in the form which the
attack took. That such there was we have no direct evidence; but there
must have been something or other to account for the tone of so many
writers. Florence is colourless; so is Henry of Huntingdon.
* * * * *
The Hyde writer, as usual, takes a line of his own. He speaks (301) of
“quidam Robertus Northamhumbrorum comes, vir dives et potens, qui
regem Scotorum Malcolmum, patrem Matildis reginæ, bellando cum toto
pene exercitu interfecit.” It is not unlikely that the fact that
Malcolm was not only the husband of the sainted Margaret, but also the
father of the popular Queen Eadgyth-Matilda, won for him a measure of
sympathy after his death which he had not enjoyed while he was alive.
Indeed we get this relation distinctly set forth by the Continuator of
William of Jumièges (viii. 8), who after recording the life-long
imprisonment of Robert of Mowbray, adds, “Dictum est a pluribus, hanc
talionem sibi redditam fuisse, quia regem Scotiæ, patrem videlicet
nobilissimæ Mathildis postea reginæ Anglorum, dolose peremerat.”
* * * * *
Alnwick, as the place of Malcolm’s death, and of the capture of
another Scottish king in the next century, awakens a certain amount of
real interest beyond the range of mere legend and misapplied
sentiment. The late Mr. Hartshorne wrote with a strange feeling of
devotion towards anything that did profess and call itself Percy; but
he gives us the facts. All that need be known about Alnwick will be
found in his papers in the Archæological Institute’s second Newcastle
volume, p. 143. Robert of Veci appears in Domesday in several shires
as far north as Lincoln, but of course we cannot track him in the
unsurveyed parts of Northumberland. Of the original Percy we have
heard something in various parts in N. C. vol. iv. pp. 215, 295, 789;
vol. v. p. 773. The second set of Percies, those of Louvain, got to
Alnwick by a grant from Bishop Antony Beck in 1309 (Hartshorne, ii.
150, 152). Very little can be made of the Alnwick Chronicle printed in
Mr. Hartshorne’s Appendix. What can we say to a “William Tisonne” who
dies on the English side at Senlac, and who is the brother of Richard
Tisone who founds chapels in the year 1000, as his father “Gisbright”
founded abbeys before him? In this story the first Norman lord of
Alnwick is Ivo of Veci, who is described as “miles de secretariis,”
whatever that may mean, to the Conqueror, and he gets Alnwick along
with the daughter of the slain William Tisonne. Alnwick may quite
possibly have passed to a Norman lord by marriage with an English
heiress, but assuredly her father was not called William and did not
bear an hereditary surname, and it is much to his credit if, in the
teeth of his Earl, he found his way to the great battle from a point
so far north as Alnwick.
NOTE DD. Vol. ii. p. 28.
THE BURIAL OF MARGARET.
I do not wish to commit myself to any view as to the authorship of the
writings attributed to Turgot. It is sometimes, as I have more than
once remarked, hard to believe that the passages which are worked into
the text of Fordun, and which are printed at the end of the Surtees
Simeon as Turgot’s writing, can really come from a contemporary
writer. Still, whether Turgot’s or not, they contain fragments of real
information for which, in the great meagreness of our notices of
Scottish matters, we may well be thankful. In this case, it is from
one of these passages that we learn for certain, what we might for
ourselves have been inclined to guess, that Margaret, so deeply
reverenced in England then and in Scotland in later times, was not
popular in Scotland in her own day. Of her death, as we have seen, we
have several accounts, the fullest and most trustworthy being in her
own Life by Turgot. Again, we have several notices, though somewhat
meagre ones, of the national Scottish movement which placed Donald on
the throne. But it is only from one of these other bits of Turgot (if
it be Turgot) that we could find out that the two things had anything
to do with one another, and that the first thing which the national
party did was to attempt to disturb the burial of the holy Queen.
There is nothing of this in the Life, a fact which may possibly mark
the difference between Turgot writing hagiography, though I believe
truthful hagiography, and the same Turgot writing ordinary history. In
the former character, he does not invent or pervert; he simply leaves
out an unpleasant fact which in the other and humbler character he
records.
The account of Margaret’s burial in the Life (Surtees Simeon, p. 254)
stands thus;
“Corpus ipsius honorabiliter, ut reginam decebat, involutum,
ad Sanctæ Trinitatis, quam ipsa construxerat, ecclesiam
deportavimus, ibique, sicut ipsa jusserat, contra altare et
sanctæ crucis (quod ibidem erexerat) venerabile signum,
sepulturæ tradidimus.”
These words cannot come directly from Turgot himself, who was not
there, but from the priest (see p. 27) who told him the story. Again,
Turgot’s readers would most likely understand that by the church of
the Holy Trinity was meant the church of Dunfermline. Otherwise one
might easily read the passage as implying that Margaret was buried in
the same place in which she died, though no name is given for either.
It is from the other account (Fordun, v. 21) that we learn that the
death happened at Edinburgh and the burial at Dunfermline. Here we get
a picture of Donald at the head of the insurgents or patriots, or
whatever we are to call them, entering Edinburgh by one gate, while
the body of Margaret is carried out by the other. The story runs thus;
“Cum adhuc corpus sanctæ reginæ esset in castro [puellarum]
ubi illius felix anima ad Christum quem semper dilexerat
migravit, Donaldus Rufus vel Bane, frater regis, ejus audita
morte, regnum multorum manu vallatus invasit, et prædictum
castrum, ubi regis justos et legales sciebat heredes,
hostiliter obsedit. Sed quia locus ille natura sui in se
valde munitus est, portas solummodo credidit custodiendas,
eo quod introitus aut exitus aliunde non de facili pateat.
Quod intelligentes qui intus erant, docti a Deo, meritis, ut
credimus, sanctæ reginæ, per posticum ex occidentali plaga
sanctum corpus deferebant. Ferunt autem quidam, in toto
itinere illo nebulam subnubilam omnem familiam illam
circumdedisse, et ab omnibus aspectibus hostium miraculose
protexisse, ut nec itinerantibus terra vel mari nihil
obfuit, sed ad optatum prospere locum, ecclesiam scilicet de
Dunfermlyn, ubi nunc in Christo requiescit, sicut ipsa prius
jusserat, pervenientes deportarunt.”
In the story of the mist we may clearly see a natural phænomenon set
down as a miracle (see Robertson, i. 156). But there seems no reason
for doubting the general outline of the story, namely, that Margaret
was unpopular with the party headed by Donald, and that they would
have gladly disturbed her burial. By comparing this story with the
Life we see how easy it is to leave out an important part of a tale
without bringing in anything that contradicts it.
NOTE EE. Vol. ii. p. 31.
EADGYTH-MATILDA.