PREFACE.
Summoned by the progress of events, we have entered on the times of
king Henry; to transmit whose actions to posterity, requires an abler
hand than ours. For, were only those particulars recorded which have
reached our knowledge, they would weary the most eloquent, and might
overload a library. Who, then, will attempt to unfold in detail all
his profound counsels, all his royal achievements? These are matters
too deep for me, and require more leisure than I possess. Scarcely
Cicero himself, whose eloquence is venerated by all the Western world,
would attempt it in prose; and in verse, not even a rival of the
Mantuan Bard. In addition to this, it is to be observed, that while I,
who am a man of retired habits, and far from the secrets of a court,
withhold my assent from doubtful relators, being ignorant of his
greater achievements, I touch only on a few events. Wherefore, it is
to be feared, that where my information falls beneath my wishes, the
hero, whose numerous exploits I omit, may appear to suffer. However,
for this, if it be a fault, I shall have a good excuse with him who
shall recollect that I could not be acquainted with the whole of his
transactions, nor ought I to relate even all that I did know. The
insignificance of my condition effects the one; the disgust of my
readers would be excited by the other. This fifth book, then, will
display some few of his deeds, while fame, no doubt, will blazon
the rest, and lasting memory transmit them to posterity. Nor will
it deviate from the design of the preceding four, but particularise
some things which happened during his time here and elsewhere, which
perchance are either unrecorded, or unknown to many: they will occupy,
indeed, a considerable portion of the volume, while I must claim the
usual indulgence for long digressions, as well in this as in the
others.
_Of Henry the First._ [A.D. 1100-1129.]
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1100.] HENRY I.]
Henry, the youngest son of William the Great, was born in England[462]
the third year after his father’s arrival; a child, even at that
time, fondly cherished by the joint good wishes of all, as being
the only one of William’s sons born in royalty, and to whom the
kingdom seemed to pertain. The early years of instruction he passed
in liberal arts, and so thoroughly imbibed the sweets of learning,
that no warlike commotions, no pressure of business, could ever erase
them from his noble mind: although he neither read much openly, nor
displayed his attainments except sparingly. His learning, however, to
speak the truth, though obtained by snatches, assisted him much in
the science of governing; according to that saying of Plato, “Happy
would be the commonwealth, if philosophers governed, or kings would
be philosophers.” Not slenderly tinctured by philosophy, then, by
degrees, in process of time, he learned how to restrain the people with
lenity; nor did he ever suffer his soldiers to engage but where he saw
a pressing emergency. In this manner, by learning, he trained his early
years to the hope of the kingdom; and often in his father’s hearing
made use of the proverb, that “An illiterate king is a crowned ass.”
They relate, too, that his father, observing his disposition, never
omitted any means of cherishing his lively prudence; and that once,
when he had been ill-used by one of his brothers, and was in tears, he
spirited him up, by saying, “Weep not, my boy, you too will be a king.”
In the twenty-first year,[463] then, of his father’s reign, when he
was nineteen years of age, he was knighted by him at Westminster
during Pentecost; and then accompanying him to Normandy, was, shortly
after, present at his funeral; the other brothers departing whither
their hopes led them, as my former narrative has related. Wherefore,
supported by the blessing of his father, together with his maternal
inheritance and immense treasures, he paid little regard to the
haughtiness of his brothers; assisting or opposing each of them as
they merited. More attached, however, to Robert for his mildness, he
took every means of stimulating his remissness by his own spirit.
Robert, on the other hand, through blameable credulity, trusting to
tale-bearers, injured his innocent brother in a way which it may not be
irrelevant briefly to relate.
At the time when the nobility of England were rebelling against
William the Second, while Robert was waiting a wind to sail over from
Normandy, Henry had, by his command, departed into Brittany; when,
eagerly seizing the opportunity, he expended on his troops all the
large sum of money, amounting to three thousand marks, which had been
bequeathed to the young man by the will of his father. Henry, on his
return, though perhaps he endured this with difficulty, yet observed a
cautious silence on the subject. However, hearing of the restoration
of peace in England, the service was ended, and they laid aside their
arms. The earl retired to his own territories: Henry to those which his
brother had either given, or promised to give him. Indeed he placed
his promises to account, retaining the tower of Rouen under fealty
to Robert. But, by the accusation of some very infamous persons, his
fidelity proved disadvantageous to him; and for no fault on his part,
Henry was, in this very place, detained in free custody, lest he should
escape the vigilance of his keepers. Released at the expiration of
half a year, on the invitation of his brother William he offered him
his services; but he, remunerating the young man no better, put him
off, though in distress, with empty promises for more than a year.
Wherefore, Robert, by his messengers, offering reparation for what had
been done, he came to Normandy; having experienced attempts on his
person from each of his brothers. For the king, angry at his departure,
had in vain commanded him to be detained: and the earl, swayed by the
arts of his accusers, had changed his intention; so that, when lured to
him by soothing measures, he would not easily suffer him to depart. But
he, escaping every danger by the providence of God and his own prudent
caution, compelled his brother gladly to accede to peace, by seizing
Avranches and some other castles. Soon after, William coming into
Normandy to revenge himself on his brother Robert, Henry manifested
his regard to the earl at Rouen. Finally, the king’s party coming
thither in the day time, he spiritedly expelled them, when already,
through the treachery of the citizens, they had over-run the whole
city; sending a message to the earl, to oppose them in front, while he
pressed upon their rear. In consequence of this transaction, one Conan
was accused of treachery to the earl; who designed to cast him into
chains: supposing that no greater calamity could be inflicted on the
wretch, than dooming him to drag out a hated existence in prison. But
Henry requested to have this Conan committed to his care; which being
granted, he led him to the top of the tower at Rouen, and ordering
him carefully to survey the surrounding territory from the heights
of the citadel, ironically declaring it should all be his, he thrust
him suddenly off the ramparts into the Seine below; protesting to his
companions, who at the same time assisted him, that no respite was due
to a traitor; that the injuries of a stranger might be endured in some
manner or other; but that the punishment of a man who with an oath had
done homage, when once convicted of perfidy, never should be deferred.
This action weighed little with Robert, who was a man of changeable
disposition, for he immediately became ungrateful, and compelled his
deserving brother to retire from the city. This was the period in
which, as has been before mentioned, Henry, as well for his security as
for his fame, made a stand against both Robert and William at Mount St.
Michael’s. Thus, though he had been faithful and serviceable to either
brother, they, vouchsafing no establishment to the young man, trained
him up, as he grew in years, to greater prudence, from the scantiness
of his means.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1091.] HENRY ELECTED KING.]
But on the violent death of king William, as before related, after the
solemnization of the royal funeral, he was elected king; though some
trifling dissensions had first arisen among the nobility which were
allayed chiefly through the exertions of Henry earl of Warwick, a man
of unblemished integrity, with whom he had long been in the strictest
intimacy. He immediately promulgated an edict throughout England,
annulling the illegal ordinances[464] of his brother, and of Ranulph;
he remitted taxes; released prisoners; drove the flagitious from court;
restored the nightly use of lights within the palace, which had been
omitted in his brother’s time;[465] and renewed the operation of the
ancient laws,[466] confirming them with his own oath, and that of the
nobility, that they might not be eluded. A joyful day then seemed to
dawn on the people, when the light of fair promise shone forth after
such repeated clouds of distress. And that nothing might be wanting to
the aggregate of happiness, Ranulf, the dregs of iniquity, was cast
into the gloom of a prison, and speedy messengers were despatched
to recall Anselm. Wherefore, all vying in joyous acclamation, Henry
was crowned king at London, on the nones of August, four days after
his brother’s death. These acts were the more sedulously performed,
lest the nobility should be induced to repent their choice; as a
rumour prevailed, that Robert earl of Normandy, returning from
Apulia, was just on the point of arriving. Soon after, his friends,
and particularly the bishops, persuading him to give up meretricious
pleasures and adopt legitimate wedlock, he married, on St. Martin’s
day, Matilda,[467] daughter of Malcolm king of Scotland, to whom he
had long been greatly attached; little regarding the marriage portion,
provided he could possess her whom he so ardently desired. For though
she was of noble descent, being grand-niece of king Edward, by his
brother Edmund, yet she possessed but little fortune, being an orphan,
destitute of either parent; of whom there will be more ample matter of
relation hereafter.
In the meantime, Robert, arriving in Normandy, recovered his earldom
without any opposition; on hearing which, almost all the nobility of
this country violated the fealty which they had sworn to the king: some
without any cause; some feigning slight pretences, because he would
not readily give them such lands as they coveted. Robert Fitz-Haymon,
and Richard de Rivers, and Roger Bigod, and Robert earl of Mellent,
with his brother Henry, alone declared on the side of justice. But all
the others either secretly sent for Robert to make him king, or openly
branded their lord with sarcasms; calling him, Godric,[468] and his
consort, Goddiva. Henry heard these taunts, and, with a terrific grin,
deferring his anger, he repressed the contemptuous expressions cast
on him by the madness of fools, by a studied silence; for he was a
calm dissembler of his enmities, but, in due season, avenged them with
fierceness. This tempest of the times was increased by the subtlety
of Ranulf. For, concerting with his butler, he procured a rope to be
sent him. The deceitful servant, who was water-bearer, carried him a
very long one in a cask; by which he descended from the wall of the
tower, but whether he hurt his arms, or grazed the skin off his hands,
is a matter of no importance.[469] Escaping thence to Normandy, he
stimulated the earl, already indignant and ripe for war, to come to
England without a moment’s delay.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1101.] ROBERT LANDS AT PORTSMOUTH.]
In the second year, then, of Henry’s reign, in the month of August,
arriving at Portsmouth, he landed, divided and posted his forces
over the whole district. Nor did the king give way to indolence, but
collected an innumerable army over against him, to assert his dignity,
should it be necessary. For, though the nobility deserted him, yet
was his party strong; being espoused by archbishop Anselm, with his
brother bishops, and all the English. In consequence, grateful to
the inhabitants for their fidelity, and anxious for their safety, he
frequently went through the ranks, instructing them how to elude the
ferocity of the cavalry by opposing their shields, and how to return
their strokes. By this he made them voluntarily demand the fight,
perfectly fearless of the Normans. Men, however, of sounder counsel
interfering, who observed, that the laws of natural affection must be
violated should brothers meet in battle, they shaped their minds to
peace; reflecting, that, if one fell, the other would be the weaker, as
there was no surviving brother. Besides, a promise of three thousand
marks deceived the easy credulity of the earl; who imagined that,
when he had disbanded his army, he might gratify his inclinations with
such an immense sum of money: which, the very next year, he cheerfully
surrendered to the queen’s pleasure, because she desired it.
The following year Robert de Belesme, eldest son of Roger de
Montgomery, rebelled, fortifying the castles of Bridgenorth and Arundel
against the king; carrying thither corn from all the district round
Shrewsbury, and every necessary which war requires. The castle of
Shrewsbury, too, joined the rebellion, the Welsh being inclined to
evil on every occasion. In consequence, the king, firm in mind and
bearing down every adverse circumstance by valour, collecting an army,
laid siege to Bridgenorth, from whence Robert had already retired to
Arundel; presuming from the plenty of provision and the courage of the
soldiers, that the place was abundantly secure. But, after a few days,
the townsmen, impelled by remorse of conscience and by the bravery of
the king’s army, surrendered: on learning which, Arundel repressed
its insolence; putting itself under the king’s protection, with this
remarkable condition; that its lord, without personal injury, should
be suffered to retire to Normandy. Moreover, the people of Shrewsbury
sent the keys of the castle to the king by Ralph, at that time abbat
of Sees, and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, as tokens of present
submission, and pledges of their future obedience. Thus, this fire of
dissension which was expected to become excessive, wasted to ashes
in the course of very few days; and the avidity of the revolters,
perpetually panting after innovation, was repressed. Robert, with his
brothers, Ernulph, who had obtained the surname of his father, and
Roger the Poitevin, so called because he had married his wife from that
country, abjured England for ever; but the strictness of this oath was
qualified with a proviso, “unless he should satisfy the king on some
future occasion, by his obedient conduct.”
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1102.] TROUBLES IN NORMANDY.]
The torch of war now lighted up in Normandy, receiving fresh fuel by
the arrival of the traitors, blazed forth and seized every thing within
its reach. Normandy, indeed, though not very wide in its extent, is
a convenient and patient fosterer of the abandoned. Wherefore, for a
long time, she well endures intestine broils; and on the restoration
of peace, rises soon to a state more fruitful than before; at her
pleasure ejecting her disturbers, when detected by the province, by
an easy egress into France. Whereas England does not long endure the
turbulent; but when once received to her bosom, either surrenders, or
puts them to death; neither, when laid waste by tumult, does she again
soon rear her recovering head. Belesme, then, arriving in Normandy,
had, both at that time and afterwards, accomplices in his malignity,
and lest this should seem too little, inciters also. Among others was
William earl of Moreton, the son of Robert, the king’s uncle. He, from
a boy, had been envious of Henry’s fame, and had, more especially, on
the arrival of the Norman, manifested his evil disposition. For not
content with the two earldoms, of Moreton in Normandy, and Cornwall
in England, he demanded from the king the earldom of Kent, which Odo
his uncle had held; so troublesome and presumptuous was he, that,
with shameless arrogance, he vowed, that he would not put on his
cloak till he could procure the inheritance derived to him from his
uncle; for such was his expression. But even then the king, with his
characteristic circumspection, beguiled him by the subtlety of an
ambiguous answer. The tumult, however, being allayed and tranquillity
restored, he not only refused assent to his demand, but persisted in
recovering what he unjustly retained; though he did it with moderation,
and the sanction of law, that none of his actions might appear illegal,
or contrary to equity. William, ousted by the sentence of the law,
retired, indignant and furious into Normandy. Here, in addition to his
fruitless attacks upon the royal castles, he assailed Richard earl of
Chester, the son of Hugh; invading, plundering, and destroying some
places which formed part of his possessions: the earl himself being at
that time a minor, and under the protection and guardianship of the
king.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1102.] BATTLE AT TENERSEBREY.]
These two persons, then, the leaders of faction and fomenters
of rebellion, in conjunction with others whom I am ashamed to
particularize, harassed the country, far and wide, with their
devastations. Complaints from the suffering inhabitants on the subject
of their injuries, though frequent, were lavished upon the earl in
vain. He was moved by them, it is true; but fearing on his own account,
lest they should disturb his ease if offended, he dissembled his
feelings. King Henry, however, felt deeply for his brother’s infamy,
carried to the highest pitch by the sufferings of the country: aware,
that it was the extreme of cruelty, and far from a good king’s duty,
to suffer abandoned men to riot on the property of the poor. In
consequence, he once admonished his brother, whom he had sent for
into England, with fair words; but afterwards, arriving in Normandy,
he severely reminded him, more than once, by arms, to act the prince
rather than the monk. He also despoiled William, the instigator of
these troubles, of every thing he had in England; razing his castles
to the ground. But when he could, even thus, make no progress towards
peace, the royal majesty long anxiously employed its thoughts, whether,
regardless of fraternal affection, it should rescue the country from
danger, or through blind regard, suffer it to continue in jeopardy.
And indeed the common weal, and sense of right, would have yielded to
motives of private affection, had not pope Paschal, as they say,[470]
urged him, when hesitating, to the business by his letters: averring,
with his powerful eloquence, that it would not be a civil war, but a
signal benefit to a noble country. In consequence, passing over,[471]
he, in a short time, took, or more properly speaking, received, the
whole of Normandy; all flocking to his dominion, that he might provide,
by his transcendent power, for the good of the exhausted province. Yet
he achieved not this signal conquest without bloodshed; but lost many
of his dearest associates. Among these was Roger of Gloucester, a tried
soldier, who was struck on the head by a bolt from a cross-bow, at the
siege of Falaise; and Robert Fitz-Haymon, who receiving a blow on the
temple, with a lance, and losing his faculties, survived a considerable
time, almost in a state of idiotcy.[472] They relate, that he was thus
deservedly punished, because, for the sake of liberating him, king
Henry had consumed the city of Bayeux, together with the principal
church, with fire. Still, however, as we hope, they both atoned for
it. For the king munificently repaired the damage of that church: and
it is not easy to relate, how much Robert ennobled, by his favour,
the monastery of Tewkesbury; where the splendour of the edifice, and
the kindness of the monks, attract the eyes, and captivate the minds
of the visitors. Fortune, however, to make up for the loss of these
persons, put a finishing hand to the war, when at its height, and with
little labour, gave his brother, when opposing him with no despicable
force, together with William earl of Moreton, and Robert de Belesme,
into his power. This battle was fought at Tenersebrey, a castle of the
earl of Moreton’s, on Saturday the Vigil of St. Michael. It was the
same day, on which, about forty years before, William had first landed
at Hastings: doubtless by the wise dispensation of God, that Normandy
should be subjected to England on the same day that the Norman power
had formerly arrived to subjugate that kingdom. Here was taken the
earl of Moreton, who came thither to fulfil his promise of strenuous
assistance to the townsmen, as well as in the hope of avenging his
injuries. But, made captive, as I have related, he passed the residue
of his life in the gloom of a prison; meriting some credit from the
vivacity of his mind, and the activity of his youth, but deserving an
unhappy end, from his perfidy. Then, too, Belesme[473] escaped death by
flight at the first onset; but when, afterwards, he had irritated the
king by secret faction, he also was taken; and being involved in the
same jeopardy with the others, he was confined in prison as long as he
lived. He was a man intolerable from the barbarity of his manners, and
inexorable to the faults of others; remarkable besides for cruelty;
and, among other instances, on account of some trifling fault of its
father, he blinded his godchild, who was his hostage, tearing out
the little wretch’s eyes with his accursed nails: full of cunning and
dissimulation, he used to deceive the credulous by the serenity of his
countenance and the affability of his speech; though the same means
terrified those who were acquainted with his malignity; as there was
no greater proof of impending mischief, than his pretended mildness of
address.
The king, thus splendidly successful, returned triumphant to his
kingdom, having established such peace in Normandy as it had never
known before; and such as even his father himself, with all his mighty
pomp of words and actions, had never been able to accomplish. Rivalling
his father also, in other respects, he restrained, by edict,[474] the
exactions of the courtiers, thefts, rapine, and the violation of women;
commanding the delinquents to be deprived of sight, as well as of their
manhood. He also displayed singular diligence against the mintmasters,
commonly called moneyers; suffering no counterfeiter, who had been
convicted of deluding the ignorant by the practice of his roguery, to
escape, without losing his hand.
Adopting the custom of his brother, he soothed the Scottish kings
by his affability. For William made Duncan, the illegitimate son of
Malcolm, a knight; and, on the death of his father, appointed him king
of Scotland. When Duncan was taken off by the wickedness of his uncle
Donald, he promoted Edgar to the kingdom; the above-mentioned Donald
being despatched by the contrivance of David, the youngest brother,
and the power of William. Edgar yielding to fate, Henry made affinity
with Alexander, his successor, giving him his illegitimate daughter in
marriage, by whom he had no issue that I know of; and when she died,
he did not much lament her loss: for there was, as they affirm, some
defect about the lady, either in correctness of manners, or elegance
of person. Alexander resting with his ancestors, David the youngest
of Malcolm’s sons, whom the king had made a knight and honoured with
the marriage of a woman of quality, ascended the throne of Scotland.
A youth more courtly than the rest, and who, polished, from a boy,
by intercourse and familiarity with us, had rubbed off all the rust
of Scottish barbarism. Finally, when he obtained the kingdom, he
released from the payment of taxes, for three years, all such of his
countrymen as would pay more attention to their dwellings, dress more
elegantly, and feed more nicely. No history has ever recorded three
kings, and at the same time brothers, who were of equal sanctity, or
savoured so much of their mother’s piety; for independently of their
abstemiousness, their extensive charity, and their frequency in prayer,
they so completely subdued the domestic vice of kings, that no report,
even, prevailed, that any entered their bed except their legitimate
wives, or that either of them had ever been guilty of any unlawful
intercourse. Edmund was the only degenerate son of Margaret, who,
partaking in his uncle Donald’s crime, and bargaining for half his
kingdom, had been accessary to his brother’s death. But being taken,
and doomed to perpetual imprisonment, he sincerely repented; and, on
his near approach to death, ordered himself to be buried in his chains:
confessing that he suffered deservedly for the crime of fratricide.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1106.] HENRY’S EXPEDITION TO WALES.]
The Welsh, perpetually rebelling, were subjugated by the king in
repeated expeditions, who, relying on a prudent expedient to quell
their tumults, transported thither all the Flemings then resident in
England. For that country contained such numbers of these people, who,
in the time of his father, had come over from national relationship
to his mother, that, from their numbers, they appeared burdensome to
the kingdom. In consequence he settled them, with all their property
and connexions, at Ross, a Welsh province, as in a common receptacle,
both for the purpose of cleansing the kingdom, and repressing the
brutal temerity of the enemy. Still, however, he did not neglect
leading his expeditions thither, as circumstances required: in one of
which, being privily aimed at with an arrow from a distance, though
by whose audacity is unknown, he opportunely and fortunately escaped,
by the interposition of his firmly mailed hauberk, and the counsel of
God at the same time frustrating this treachery. But neither was the
director of the arrow discovered at that time, nor could he ever after
be detected, although the king immediately declared, that it was not
let fly by a Welshman, but by a subject; swearing to it, by the death
of our Lord, which was his customary oath when moved, either by excess
of anger or the importance of the occasion. For at that very time the
army was marching cautiously and slowly upon its own ground, not in
an enemy’s territory, and therefore nothing less was to be expected
than an hostile attack. But, nevertheless, he desisted not from his
purpose through fear of intestine danger, until the Welsh appeased the
commotion of the royal spirit, by giving the sons of their nobility as
hostages, together with some money, and much of their substance.
By dint of gold, too, he brought the inhabitants of Brittany to his
views, whom, when a young man, he had had as neighbours to his castles
of Danfrunt and Mount St. Michael’s; for these are a race of people,
poor at home, and seeking abroad to support a toilsome life by foreign
service. Regardless of right and of affinity, they decline not even
civil war, provided they are paid for it; and, in proportion to the
remuneration, are ready to enter any service that may be offered. Aware
of this custom, if, at any time he had need of stipendiary troops, he
used to lavish money on these Bretons; thereby hiring the faith of a
faithless nation.
In the beginning of his reign he offended Robert, earl of Flanders,
from the following cause: Baldwin the Elder, the grandfather of this
Robert, had powerfully assisted William, when going to England, by
the wisdom of his councils, for which he was famed, and by a supply
of soldiers. William had frequently made splendid returns for this;
giving, every year, as they report, three hundred marks[475] of silver
to his father-in-law, on account of his fidelity and affinity. This
munificence was not diminished towards his son Baldwin; though it was
dropped through the evil disposition of Robert Friso, as my history
has already recorded. Moreover this Robert, the son of Friso, easily
obtained the omitted largess from William the Second, because the one
alleged his relationship, and the other possessed a boundless spirit in
squandering money. But Henry giving the business deeper consideration,
as a man who never desired to obtain money improperly, nor ever
wantonly exhausted it when acquired, gave the following reply to
Robert, on his return from Jerusalem, when imperiously making a demand,
as it were, of three hundred marks of silver. He said, “that the kings
of England were not accustomed to pay tribute to the Flemings; and
that he would not tarnish the liberty of his ancestors by the stain
of his cowardice; therefore, if he would trust to his generosity,
he would willingly give him, as a kinsman and as a friend, whatever
circumstances would permit; but if he thought proper to persist in his
demand, he should refuse it altogether.” Confuted by this reasoning,
he, for a long time, cherished his indignation against Henry; but
getting little or nothing by his enmity, he bent his mind to milder
measures; having discovered that the king might be wrought upon by
intreaty, but not by imperious insolence. But now, the change of times
had given his son, Baldwin, matter of offence against Henry; for,
wishing to place William,[476] the son of Robert the Norman, in his
inheritance, he voluntarily busied himself in the affairs of others,
and frequently made unexpected attacks upon the king’s castles in
Normandy. He threatened extreme trouble to the country, had the fates
permitted; but engaging at Arques with a larger party of soldiers than
he had apprehended, he accelerated his death; for his helmet being
battered with repeated strokes, he received an injury in his brain.
They relate, that his disorder was increased from having that day
eaten garlic with goose, and that he did not even abstain from carnal
intercourse at night. Here let posterity contemplate a noble specimen
of royal attention; for the king sent a most skilful physician to
the patient, bewailing, as we may believe, that person’s perishing
by disease, whom, through admiration of his valour, he had rather
seen survive. Charles, his successor, never annoyed the king; and
first, with a doubtful, but afterwards, a formal treaty, embraced his
friendship.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] PHILIP, KING OF FRANCE.]
Philip, king of France, was neither friendly nor hostile to our
king, being more intent on gluttony than business; neither were his
dominions situated in the vicinity of Henry’s castles; for the few
which he possessed at that time in Normandy were nearer to Brittany
than France. Besides, as I have said before, Philip growing in years
was oppressed by lust; and, allured by the beauty of the countess of
Anjou, was enslaved to illicit passion for her. In consequence of his
being excommunicated by the pope, no divine service could be celebrated
in the town where he resided; but on his departure the chiming of the
bells resounded on all sides, at which he expressed his stupid folly by
laughter, saying, “You hear, my fair, how they drive us away.”[477] He
was held in such contempt by all the bishops of his kingdom, that no
one, except William,[478] archbishop of Rouen, would marry them: the
rashness of which deed he atoned for by being many years interdicted,
and was with difficulty, at last, restored to apostolical communion
by archbishop Anselm. In the meanwhile, no space of time could give
satiety to Philip’s mad excess, except that, in his last days, being
seized with sickness, he took the monastic habit at Flory.[479] She
acted with better grace and better success; as she sought the veil of
a nun at Fontevrault, while yet possessed of strength and health, and
undiminished beauty. Soon after she bade adieu to the present life:
God, perhaps, foreseeing that the frame of a delicate woman could not
endure the austerities of a monastery.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] LEWIS, KING OF FRANCE.]
Lewis, the son of Philip, was very changeable; firmly attached to
neither party. At first, extremely indignant against Robert, he
instigated Henry to seize Normandy; seduced by what had been plundered
from the English, and the vast wealth of the king. Not indeed, that the
one offered it, but the other invited him; exhorting him, of his own
accord, not to suffer the nerves of that once most flourishing country,
to be crippled by his forbearance. But an enmity afterwards arose
between them, on account of Theobald, earl of Blois, son of Stephen who
fell at Ramula; Theobald being the son of Stephen by Adala, daughter
of William the Great. For a considerable time, messengers on the part
of the king wasted their labour, entreating that Lewis would condescend
to satisfy Theobald. But he, paying little regard to entreaties, caused
Theobald to be excommunicated by the pope, as arrogant and a rebel to
God; who, in addition to the austerity of his manners, which seemed
intolerable to all, was represented as depriving his lord of his
hereditary possessions. Their quarrel being thus of long continuance,
when, each swollen with pride, neither would vail his consequence to
the other, Lewis entered Normandy, proudly devastating every thing
with overbearing violence. These things were reported to the king, who
shut himself up in Rouen until the common soldiers infested his ears,
by saying, “That he ought to allow Lewis to be driven back; a man who
formerly kept his bed through corpulency, but was now, by Henry’s
forbearance, loading the very air with threats.” The king, mindful
of his father’s example, rather preferred crushing the folly of the
Frenchman by endurance, than repelling it by force. Moreover, he kindly
soothed his soldiers, by addressing them to the following effect, “That
they ought not to wonder if he avoided lavishing the blood of those
whom he had proved to be faithful by repeated trials: that it would be
impious, in achieving power to himself, to glory in the deaths of those
persons who had devoted their lives to voluntary conflicts for his
safety; that they were the adopted of his kingdom, the foster-children
of his affection; wherefore he was anxious to follow the example of a
good king, and by his own moderation to check the impetuosity of those
whom he saw so ready to die for him.” At last, when he beheld his
forbearance wrongly interpreted, and denominated cowardice, insomuch
that Lewis burnt and plundered within four miles of Rouen; he called
up the powers of his soul with greater effort, and, arraying his
troops, gloriously conquered: compensating his past forbearance by a
sanguinary victory. But, however, soon afterwards, peace was concluded,
“Because there is a change in all things, and money, which is capable
of persuading what it lists, extenuates every injury.” In consequence
William, the son of our king, did homage to the king of France for
Normandy, holding that province, in future, by legal right from him.
This was the period when the same youth married the daughter of Fulco,
earl of Anjou, and obtained, by the careful management of his father,
that, through the mediation of money and of affinity, no tumults should
affect the son.
At this time, pope Calixtus,[480] of whom I shall relate much
hereafter, approached the confines of Normandy, where the king of
England, entering into conference with him, compelled the Romans to
admire and proclaim the ingenuity of the Normans. For he had come,
as was reported, ill-disposed towards Henry; intending severely to
expostulate with him, for keeping his brother, the pilgrim of the Holy
Sepulchre, in confinement. But being pressed by the king’s answer,
which was specious, and by his plausible arguments, he had little
to reply. For even common topics may avail, through eloquence of
speech; and, more especially, that oratory cannot be despised, which
is seasoned with valuable presents. And that nothing might be wanting
to the aggregate of glory, he provided some youths of noble family,
the sons of the earl of Mellent, to dispute with the cardinals in
logic. To whose inextricable sophisms, when, from the liveliness of
their arguments, they could make no resistance, the cardinals were not
ashamed to confess, that the Western climes flourished with greater
literary eminence, than they had ever heard of, or imagined, while yet
in their own country. Wherefore, the issue of this conference, was,
that the pope declared, that nothing could be more just than the king
of England’s cause; nothing more conspicuous than his prudence, or more
copious than his eloquence.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] ROBERT, EARL OF MELLENT.]
The father of these youths was Robert, earl of Mellent, as I observed,
the son of Roger de Beaumont, who built the monastery of Preaux in
Normandy; a man of primitive simplicity and sincerity, who, being
frequently invited by William the First, to come to England, and
receive, as a recompence, whatever possessions he chose, always
declined; saying, that he wished to cultivate the inheritance of his
forefathers, rather than covet or invade foreign possessions which
did not belong to him. He had two sons, Robert, of whom we are
speaking, and Henry. Henry earl of Warwick, a man of sweet and placid
disposition, passed and ended his days, in occupations congenial to his
habits. The other, more shrewd, and of a subtler character, in addition
to his paternal inheritance in Normandy and large estates in England,
purchased from the king of France a castle called Mellent, which
Hugh the son of Gualeraun, his mother’s brother, had held. Conducted
gradually by budding hope towards fame in the time of the former
kings, he attained to its full bloom in Henry’s days; and his advice
was regarded as though the oracle of God had been consulted: indeed he
was deservedly esteemed to have obtained it, as he was of ripe age to
counsel; the persuader of peace, the dissuader of strife, and capable
of very speedily bringing about whatever he desired, from the powers
of his eloquence. He possessed such mighty influence in England, as to
change by his single example the long established modes of dress and of
diet. Finally, the custom of one meal a day, is observed[481] in the
palaces of all the nobility through his means; which he, adopting from
Alexius, emperor of Constantinople, on the score of his health, spread,
as I have observed, among the rest by his authority. He is blamed,
as having done, and taught others to do this, more through want of
liberality, than any fear of surfeit, or indigestion; but undeservedly:
since no one, it is said, was more lavish in entertainments to others,
or more moderate in himself. In law, he was the supporter of justice;
in war, the insurer of victory: urging his lord the king to enforce the
rigour of the statutes; himself not only following the existing, but
proposing new ones: free himself from treachery towards the king, he
was the avenger of it in others.[482]
Besides this personage king Henry had among his counsellors, Roger[483]
bishop of Salisbury, on whose advice he principally relied. For,
before his accession, he had made him regulator of his household,
and on becoming king, having had proof of his abilities, appointed
him first chancellor and then a bishop. The able discharge of his
episcopal functions led to a hope that he might be deserving of a
higher office. He therefore committed to his care the administration
of the whole kingdom, whether he might be himself resident in England
or absent in Normandy. The bishop refused to embroil himself in
cares of such magnitude, until the three archbishops of Canterbury,
Anselm, Ralph, William, and lastly the pope, enjoined him the duty
of obedience. Henry was extremely eager to effect this, aware that
Roger would faithfully perform every thing for his advantage. Nor did
he deceive the royal expectation; but conducted himself with so much
integrity and diligence, that not a spark of envy was kindled against
him. Moreover, the king was frequently detained in Normandy, sometimes
for three, sometimes four years, and sometimes for a longer period;
and on his return to his kingdom, he gave credit to the chancellor’s
discretion for finding little or nothing to distress him. Amid all
these affairs, he did not neglect his ecclesiastical duties, but daily
diligently transacted them in the morning, that he might be more ready
and undisturbed for other business. He was a prelate of a great mind,
and spared no expense towards completing his designs, especially in
buildings, which may be seen in other places, but more particularly at
Salisbury and at Malmesbury. For there he erected extensive edifices,
at vast cost, and with surpassing beauty; the courses of stone being so
correctly laid that the joint deceives the eye, and leads it to imagine
that the whole wall is composed of a single block. He built anew the
church of Salisbury, and beautified it in such a manner that it yields
to none in England, but surpasses many, so that he had just cause to
say, “Lord, I have loved the glory of thy house.”
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] MURCARD, KING OF IRELAND.]
Murcard, king of Ireland, and his successors, whose names have not
reached our notice, were so devotedly attached to our Henry that they
wrote no letters but what tended to soothe him, and did nothing but
what he commanded; although it may be observed that Murcard, from
some unknown cause, acted, for a short time, rather superciliously
towards the English; but soon after on the suspension of navigation
and of foreign trade, his insolence subsided. For of what value could
Ireland be if deprived of the merchandize of England? From poverty, or
rather from the ignorance of the cultivators, the soil, unproductive
of every good, engenders, without the cities, a rustic, filthy swarm
of natives; but the English and French inhabit the cities in a greater
degree of civilization through their mercantile traffic. Paul, earl of
Orkney, though subject by hereditary right to the king of Norway, was
so anxious to obtain the king’s friendship, that he was perpetually
sending him presents; for he was extremely fond of the wonders of
distant countries, begging with great delight, as I have observed,
from foreign kings, lions, leopards, lynxes, or camels,--animals which
England does not produce. He had a park called Woodstock, in which he
used to foster his favourites of this kind. He had placed there also
a creature called a porcupine, sent to him by William of Montpelier;
of which animal, Pliny the Elder, in the eighth book of his Natural
History, and Isodorus, on Etymologies, relate that there is such a
creature in Africa, which the inhabitants call of the urchin kind,
covered with bristly hairs, which it naturally darts against the dogs
when pursuing it: moreover, these are, as I have seen, more than a
span long, sharp at each extremity, like the quills of a goose where
the feather ceases, but rather thicker, and speckled, as it were, with
black and white.
What more particularly distinguished Henry was that though frequently
and long absent from his kingdom on account of the commotions in
Normandy, yet he so restrained the rebellious, by the terror of his
name, that peace remained undisturbed in England. In consequence,
foreigners willingly resorted thither, as to the only haven of secure
tranquillity. Finally, Siward king of Norway, in his early years
comparable to the bravest heroes, having entered on a voyage to
Jerusalem, and asking the king’s permission, wintered in England.
After expending vast sums upon the churches, as soon as the western
breeze opened the gates of spring to soothe the ocean, he regained
his vessels, and proceeding to sea, terrified the Balearic Isles,
which are called Majorca and Minorca, by his arms, leaving them an
easier conquest to the before-mentioned William of Montpelier. He
thence proceeded to Jerusalem with all his ships in safety except one;
she, while delaying to loose her cable from shore, was sucked into
a tremendous whirlpool, which Paul[484] the historian of Lombardy
describes as lying between the coasts of the Seine and Aquitaine,
with such a force of water that its dashing may be heard at thirty
miles’ distance. Arriving at Jerusalem he, for the advancement
of the Christian cause, laid siege to, battered, and subdued the
maritime cities of Tyre and Sidon. Changing his route, and entering
Constantinople, he fixed a ship, beaked with golden dragons, as a
trophy, on the church of Sancta Sophia. His men dying in numbers in
this city, he discovered a remedy for the disorder, by making the
survivors drink wine more sparingly, and diluted with water; and this
with singular sagacity; for pouring wine on the liver of a hog, and
finding that it presently dissolved by the acridity of the liquor, he
immediately conjectured that the same effect took place in men, and
afterwards dissecting a dead body, he had ocular proof of it. Wherefore
the emperor contemplating his sagacity and courage, which promised
something great, was inclined to detain him. But he adroitly deluded
the expectation in which he was already devouring the Norwegian gold;
for, obtaining permission to go to a neighbouring city, he deposited
with him the chests of his treasures, filled with lead and sealed up,
as pledges of a very speedy return; by which contrivance the emperor
was deceived, and the other returned home by land.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] CHARACTER OF HENRY I.]
But my narrative must now return to Henry. He was active in providing
what would be beneficial to his empire;[485] firm in defending
it; abstinent from war, as far as he could with honour; but when
he had determined no longer to forbear, a most severe requiter of
injuries, dissipating every opposing danger by the energy of his
courage; constant in enmity or in affection towards all; giving too
much indulgence to the tide of anger in the one, gratifying his
royal magnanimity in the other; depressing his enemies indeed even
to despair, and exalting his friends and dependants to an enviable
condition. For philosophy propounds this to be the first or greatest
concern of a good king,
“To spare the suppliant, but depress the proud.”[486]
Inflexible in the administration of justice, he ruled the people with
moderation; the nobility with condescension. Seeking after robbers
and counterfeiters with the greatest diligence, and punishing them
when discovered; neither was he by any means negligent in matters of
lesser importance. When he heard that the tradesmen refused broken
money,[487] though of good silver, he commanded the whole of it to be
broken, or cut in pieces. The measure of his own arm was applied to
correct the false ell of the traders, and enjoined on all throughout
England. He made a regulation for the followers of his court, at
whichever of his possessions he might be resident, stating what they
should accept without payment from the country-folks; and how much,
and at what price, they should purchase; punishing the transgressors
by a heavy pecuniary fine, or loss of life. In the beginning of his
reign, that he might awe the delinquents by the terror of example,
he was more inclined to punish by deprivation of limb; afterwards by
mulct. Thus, in consequence of the rectitude of his conduct, as is
natural to man, he was venerated by the nobility, and beloved by the
common people. If at any time the better sort, regardless of their
plighted oath, wandered from the path of fidelity, he immediately
recalled them to the straight road by the wisdom of his plans, and
his unceasing exertions; bringing back the refractory to soundness
of mind by the wounds he inflicted on their bodies. Nor can I easily
describe what perpetual labour he employed on such persons, while
suffering nothing to go unpunished which the delinquents had committed
repugnant to his dignity. Normandy, as I have said before, was the
chief source of his wars, in which, though principally resident, yet
he took especial care for England; none daring to rebel, from the
consideration of his courage and of his prudence. Nor, indeed, was
he ever singled out for the attack of treachery, by reason of the
rebellion of any of his nobles, through means of his attendants, except
once; the author of which was a certain chamberlain, born of a plebeian
father, but of distinguished consequence, as being keeper of the king’s
treasures; but, detected, and readily confessing his crime, he paid
the severe penalty of his perfidy.[488] With this exception, secure
during his whole life, the minds of all were restrained by fear, their
conversation by regard for him.
He was of middle stature, exceeding the diminutive, but exceeded by
the very tall: his hair was black, but scanty near the forehead; his
eyes mildly bright; his chest brawny; his body fleshy: he was facetious
in proper season, nor did multiplicity of business cause him to be
less pleasant when he mixed in society. Not prone to personal combat,
he verified the saying of Scipio Africanus, “My mother bore me a
commander, not a soldier;” wherefore he was inferior in wisdom to no
king of modern time; and, as I may almost say, he clearly surpassed
all his predecessors in England, and preferred contending by counsel,
rather than by the sword. If he could, he conquered without bloodshed;
if it was unavoidable, with as little as possible. He was free, during
his whole life, from impure desires;[489] for, as we have learned from
those who were well informed, he was led by female blandishments, not
for the gratification of incontinency, but for the sake of issue; nor
condescended to casual intercourse, unless where it might produce that
effect; in this respect the master of his natural inclinations, not the
passive slave of lust. He was plain in his diet, rather satisfying the
calls of hunger, than surfeiting himself by variety of delicacies. He
never drank but to allay thirst; execrating the least departure from
temperance, both in himself and in those about him. He was heavy to
sleep, which was interrupted by frequent snoring. His eloquence was
rather unpremeditated than laboured; not rapid, but deliberate.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] PIETY OF HENRY I.]
His piety towards God was laudable, for he built monasteries in
England and in Normandy: but as he has not yet completed them, I, in
the meantime, should suspend my judgment, did not my affection for
the brotherhood at Reading forbid my silence. He built this monastery
between the rivers Kennet and Thames, in a place calculated for the
reception of almost all who might have occasion to travel to the more
populous cities of England, where he placed monks of the Clugniac
order, who are at this day a noble pattern of holiness, and an example
of unwearied and delightful hospitality. Here may be seen what is
peculiar to this place: for guests arriving every hour, consume
more than the inmates themselves. Perhaps, some person may call me
over-hasty and a flatterer, for so signally celebrating a congregation
yet in its infancy; unconscious what future times may produce: but
they, as I hope, will endeavour, by the grace of God, to continue in
virtue; and I blush not at commending men of holiness, and admiring
that excellence in others which I possess not myself. He yielded up
the investiture[490] of the churches to God and St. Peter, after
much controversy between him and archbishop Anselm, scarcely induced,
even at last, to consent, through the manifold grace of God, by an
inglorious victory over his brother. The tenor of these disputes Edmer
has recorded at great length; I, to give a completer knowledge of
the matter, shall subjoin the letters of the so-often-mentioned pope
Paschal on the subject.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] PASCHAL ON INVESTITURES.]
“Paschal the bishop to king Henry, health. From your letters, lately
transmitted to us by your servant, our beloved son, William the clerk,
we have been certified both of the safety of your person, and of those
prosperous successes which the divine favour hath granted you in the
subjugation of the adversaries of your kingdom. We have heard too,
that you have had the male issue you so much desired, by your noble
and religious consort. As we have derived pleasure from this, we
think it a good opportunity to impress the commands and will of God
more strongly upon you, at a time when you perceive yourself indebted
to his kindness for such ample favours. We also are desirous of
associating our kindness with the benefits of God towards you; but it
is distressing, that you should seem to require what we cannot possibly
grant. For if we consent, or suffer, that investitures be conferred by
your excellence, no doubt it will be to the great detriment both of
ourselves, and of you. In this matter we wish you to consider, what
you lose by not performing, or gain by performing. For we, by such a
prohibition, obtain no increase of influence, or patronage, over the
churches; nor do we endeavour to take away any thing from your just
power and right; but only that God’s anger may be diminished towards
you, and thus every prosperity attend you. God, indeed, hath said,
‘Those that honour me, I will honour; and those that despise me, shall
be lightly esteemed.’ You will say then, ‘It is my right;’ no truly, it
is neither an imperial nor royal, but a divine right; it is His only,
who has said, ‘I am the door:’ wherefore I entreat for his sake, whose
due it is, that you would restore and concede it to him, to whose love
you owe what you possess. But why should we oppose your pleasure, or
run counter to your good will, unless we were aware, that in consenting
to this matter, we should oppose the will of God, and lose his favour?
Why should we deny you any thing, which might be granted to any man
living, when we should receive greater favours in return? Consider, my
dearest son, whether it be an honour, or a disgrace that Anselm, the
wisest, and most religious of the Gallican bishops, on this account,
fears to be familiar with you, or to continue in your kingdom. What
will those persons think, who have hitherto had such favourable
accounts of you? What will they say, when this gets noised abroad? The
very people who, before your face, commend your excess, will, when out
of your presence, be the first more loudly to vilify the transaction.
Return then to your understanding, my dearest son, we entreat you, for
the mercy of God, and the love of his Only-begotten Son: recall your
pastor, recall your father; and if, what we do not imagine, he hath in
anything conducted himself harshly towards you, and hath opposed the
investitures, we will mediate according to your pleasure, as far as God
permits: but nevertheless, remove from your person and your kingdom the
infamy of such an expulsion. If you do this, even although you should
ask very difficult matters of us; still if, with God’s permission, we
can grant, you shall certainly obtain, them: and we will be careful to
entreat the Lord for you, himself assisting, and will grant indulgence
and absolution, as well to your sins, as to those of your consort,
through the merits of the holy apostles. Moreover, we will, together
with you, cherish the son whom you have begotten on your exemplary and
noble consort; and who is, as we have heard, named after your excellent
father, William, with such anxious care, that whosoever shall injure
either you, or him, shall be regarded as having done injury to the
church of Rome. Dated at the palace of Lateran, the ninth before the
kalends of December.”
“Paschal to Anselm. We have received those most gratifying letters of
your affection, written with the pen of charity. In these we recognise
the fervency of your devotion, and considering the strength of your
faith, and the earnestness of your pious care, we rejoice; because, by
the grace of God, neither promises elevate, nor threats depress you. We
lament, however, that after having kindly received our brother bishops,
the ambassadors of the king of England, they should, on their return
home, report what we never uttered, or even thought of. For, we have
heard, that they said, if the king conducted himself well in other
respects, we should neither prohibit the investiture of the churches,
nor anathematize them, when conferred; but that we were unwilling
thus to write, lest from this precedent other princes should exclaim.
Wherefore we call Jesus, who trieth the hearts and reins, as witness to
our soul, if ever such a horrid crime, even entered our imagination,
since we assumed the care of this holy see.” And again below. “If,
therefore, a lay hand present the staff, the sign of the shepherd’s
office, or the ring, the emblem of faith, what have the bishops to
do in the church? Moreover, those bishops who have changed the truth
into a lie, that truth, which is God, being the criterion, we separate
from the favour of St. Peter and our society, until they have made
satisfaction to the church of Rome. Such, therefore, as have received
the investiture,[491] or consecration, during the aforesaid truce,[492]
we regard as aliens to our communion and to the church.”
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] LETTER OF POPE PASCHAL.]
“Paschal to Anselm. Since the condescension of Almighty God hath
inclined the heart of the king of England to obedience to the papal
see, we give thanks to the same God of mercies, in whose hand are
situated the hearts of kings. We believe it indeed to have been
effected through favour to your charity, and the earnestness of
your prayers, that in this respect the heavenly mercy hath regarded
the people over whom your watchfulness presides. But whereas we
so greatly condescend to the king and those who seem culpable, you
must know that this has been done from kindness and compassion, that
we may lift up those that are down. And you, also, reverend and
dearest brother in Christ, we release from the prohibition or, as you
conceive, excommunication, which, you understand, was denounced against
investitures or homage by our predecessor of holy memory pope Urban.
But do you, by the assistance of God, accept those persons who either
receive investitures, or consecrate such as have received them, or
do homage on making that satisfaction which we signify to you by our
common legates William and Baldwin, faithful and true men, and absolve
them by virtue of our authority. These you will either consecrate
yourself, or command to be consecrated by such as you choose; unless
perchance you should discover somewhat in them on account of which they
ought to be deprived of their sacred honours. And if any, hereafter,
in addition to the investitures of the churches, shall have accepted
prelacies, even though they have done homage to the king, yet let them
not, on this account, be denied the office of consecration, until by
the grace of Almighty God, the heart of the king may be softened, by
the dew of your preaching, to omit this. Moreover, against the bishops
who have brought, as you know, a false report from us, our heart is
more vehemently moved, because they have not only injured us, but have
led astray the minds of many simple people, and impelled the king to
want of charity for the papal see. Wherefore, by the help of God, we
suffer not their crime to pass unpunished: but since the earnestness of
our son the king unceasingly entreats for them, you will not deny, even
them, the participation of your communion. Indeed, you will, according
to our promise, absolve from their transgressions and from penance the
king and his consort, and those nobles who for this business, together
with the king, have by our command been under sentence, whose names you
will learn from the information of the aforesaid William. We commit the
cause of the bishop of Rouen to your consideration, and we grant to him
whatsoever you may allow.”
In this manner acted Paschal the supreme pope, anxious for the liberty
of the churches of God. The bishops whom he accuses of falsehood, were
Girard archbishop of York, and Herbert of Norwich, whose errors were
discovered by the more veracious legates, William afterwards bishop of
Exeter, and Baldwin monk of Bec. Anselm[493] the archbishop was now
again, in the time of this king, an exile at Lyons, resident with Hugh,
archbishop of that city, when the first letter which I have inserted
was despatched; for he himself possessed no desire to return, nor did
the king, through the multitude of sycophants, suffer his animosity
to be appeased. He deferred, therefore, for a long time, recalling
him or complying with the papal admonition; not from desire of power,
but through the advice of the nobility, and particularly of the earl
of Mellent, who, in this affair, running counter to reason more from
ancient custom than a sense of right, alleged that the king’s majesty
must be much diminished if, disregarding the usage of his predecessors,
he ceased to invest the elected person with the staff and ring. The
king, however, considering more attentively what the clear reasoning
of the epistles, and the bountiful gift of divine favours, plentifully
showered down upon him, admonished, yielded up the investiture of the
ring and staff for ever, retaining only the privilege of election and
of the temporalities. A great council, therefore, of bishops, nobles,
and abbats, being assembled at London, many points of ecclesiastical
and secular business were settled, many differences adjusted. And
not long after, five bishops were ordained in Kent, on the same day,
by archbishop Anselm: William to the see of Winchester; Roger to
Salisbury; William to Exeter; Reinald to Hereford; Urban to Glamorgan.
In this manner a controversy, agitated by perpetual dissensions, and
the cause of many a journey to and from Rome by Anselm, met with a
commendable termination.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1107.] ACCOUNT OF QUEEN MATILDA.]
Henry’s queen, Matilda, descended from an ancient and illustrious race
of kings, daughter of the king of Scotland, as I have said before,
had also given her attention to literature, being educated, from her
infancy, among the nuns at Wilton and Romsey. Wherefore, in order to
have a colour for refusing an ignoble alliance, which was more than
once offered by her father, she wore the garb indicative of the holy
profession. This, when the king was about to advance her to his bed,
became matter of controversy; nor could the archbishop be induced to
consent to her marriage, but by the production of lawful witnesses,
who swore that she had worn the veil on account of her suitors, but
had never made her vow. Satisfied with a child of either sex, she
ceased having issue, and enduring with complacency, when the king
was elsewhere employed, the absence of the court, she continued many
years at Westminster; yet was no part of royal magnificence wanting
to her; but at all times crowds of visitants and talebearers were, in
endless multitudes, entering and departing from her superb dwelling;
for this the king’s liberality commanded; this her own kindness and
affability attracted. She was singularly holy; by no means despicable
in point of beauty; a rival of her mother’s piety; never committing
any impropriety, as far as herself was concerned; and, with the
exception of the king’s bed, completely chaste and uncontaminated
even by suspicion. Clad in hair cloth beneath her royal habit, in
Lent, she trod the thresholds of the churches barefoot. Nor was
she disgusted at washing the feet of the diseased; handling their
ulcers dripping with corruption, and, finally, pressing their hands,
for a long time together to her lips, and decking their table. She
had a singular pleasure in hearing the service of God; and on this
account was thoughtlessly prodigal towards clerks of melodious voice;
addressed them kindly, gave to them liberally, and promised still
more abundantly. Her generosity becoming universally known, crowds
of scholars, equally famed for verse and for singing, came over; and
happy did he account himself who could soothe the ears of the queen by
the novelty of his song. Nor on these only did she lavish money, but
on all sorts of men, especially foreigners, that through her presents
they might proclaim her celebrity abroad; for the desire of fame is
so rooted in the human mind, that scarcely is any one contented with
the precious fruits of a good conscience, but is fondly anxious, if
he does any thing laudable, to have it generally known. Hence, it was
justly observed, the disposition crept upon the queen to reward all the
foreigners she could, while the others were kept in suspense, sometimes
with effectual, but oftener with empty promises. Hence, too, it arose
that she fell into the error of prodigal givers; bringing many claims
on her tenantry, exposing them to injuries, and taking away their
property; by which obtaining the credit of a liberal benefactress, she
little regarded their sarcasms. But whoso shall judge rightly, will
impute this to the designs of her servants, who, harpy-like, conveyed
everything they could gripe into their purses or wasted it in riotous
living. Her ears being infected with the base insinuations of these
people, she induced this stain on her noble mind, holy and meritorious
in every other respect. Amid these concerns she was snatched away from
her country, to the great loss of the people, but to her own advantage;
for her funeral being splendidly celebrated at Westminster, she entered
into rest; and her spirit manifested, by no trivial indications, that
she was a resident in heaven. She died, willingly leaving the throne,
after a reign of seventeen years and six months, experiencing the fate
of her family, who almost all departed in the flower of their age. To
her, but not immediately, succeeded Adala,[494] daughter of the duke of
Louvain, which is the principal town of Lorraine.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1116.] PRINCE WILLIAM DROWNED.]
By Matilda king Henry had a son named William, educated and destined to
the succession,[495] with the fondest hope, and surpassing care. For
to him, when scarcely twelve years of age, all the free men of England
and Normandy, of every rank and condition, and under fealty to whatever
lord, were obliged to submit themselves by homage, and by oath. When
a boy, too, he was betrothed to and received in wedlock, the daughter
of Fulco[496] earl of Anjou, who was herself scarcely marriageable;
his father-in-law bestowing on him the county of Maine as her dower.
Moreover, Fulco, proceeding to Jerusalem, committed his earldom to the
king, to be restored, should he return, but otherwise, to go to his
son-in-law. Many provinces, then, looked forward to the government of
this boy: for it was supposed that the prediction of king Edward would
be verified in him; and it was said, that now might it be expected,
that the hopes of England, like the tree[497] cut down, would, through
this youth, again blossom and bring forth fruit, and thus put an end
to her sufferings: but God saw otherwise; for this illusion vanished
into air, as an early day was hastening him to his fate. Indeed,
by the exertions of his father-in-law, and of Theobald the son of
Stephen, and of his aunt Adala, Lewis king of France conceded the
legal possession of Normandy to the lad, on his doing him homage. The
prudence of his truly careful father so arranged and contrived, that
the homage, which he, from the extent of his empire, disdained to
perform, should not be refused by his son, a youth of delicate habit,
and not very likely to live. In discussing and peaceably settling
these matters, the king spent the space of four years; continuing
the whole of that time in Normandy. Nevertheless, the calm of this
brilliant, and carefully concerted peace, this anxious, universal hope,
was destroyed in an instant by the vicissitudes of human estate. For,
giving orders for returning to England, the king set sail from Barfleur
just before twilight on the seventh before the kalends of December;
and the breeze which filled his sails conducted him safely to his
kingdom and extensive fortunes. But the young man, who was now somewhat
more than seventeen years of age, and, by his father’s indulgence,
possessed everything but the name of king, commanded another vessel
to be prepared for himself; almost all the young nobility flocking
around him, from similarity of youthful pursuits. The sailors, too,
immoderately filled with wine, with that seaman’s hilarity which their
cups excited, exclaimed, that those who were now a-head must soon be
left astern; for the ship was of the best construction, and recently
fitted with new materials. When, therefore, it was now dark night,
these imprudent youths, overwhelmed with liquor, launched the vessel
from the shore. She flies swifter than the winged arrow, sweeping the
rippling surface of the deep: but the carelessness of the intoxicated
crew drove her on a rock, which rose above the waves not far from
shore. In the greatest consternation, they immediately ran on deck,
and with loud outcry got ready their boat-hooks, endeavouring, for a
considerable time, to force the vessel off: but fortune resisted and
frustrated every exertion. The oars, too, dashing, horribly crashed
against the rock,[498] and her battered prow hung immoveably fixed.
Now, too, the water washed some of the crew overboard, and, entering
the chinks, drowned others; when the boat having been launched, the
young prince was received into it, and might certainly have been saved
by reaching the shore, had not his illegitimate sister, the countess
of Perche, now struggling with death in the larger vessel, implored
her brother’s assistance; shrieking out that he should not abandon
her so barbarously. Touched with pity, he ordered the boat to return
to the ship, that he might rescue his sister; and thus the unhappy
youth met his death through excess of affection: for the skiff,
overcharged by the multitudes who leaped into her, sank, and buried
all indiscriminately in the deep. One rustic[499] alone escaped; who,
floating all night upon the mast, related in the morning, the dismal
catastrophe of this tragedy. No ship was ever productive of so much
misery to England; none ever so widely celebrated throughout the world.
Here also perished with William, Richard, another of the king’s sons,
whom a woman of no rank had borne him, before his accession; a youth
of intrepidity, and dear to his father from his obedience: Richard
earl of Chester, and his brother Otuell, the tutor and preceptor of
the king’s son: the countess of Perche, the king’s daughter, and his
niece the countess of Chester, sister to Theobald: and indeed almost
every person of consequence about court, whether knight, or chaplain,
or young nobleman, training up to arms. For, as I have said, they
eagerly hastened from all quarters, expecting no small addition to
their reputation, if they could either amuse, or show their devotion
to the young prince. The calamity was augmented by the difficulty
of finding the bodies, which could not be discovered by the various
persons who sought them along the shore; but delicate as they were,
they became food for the monsters of the deep. The death of this youth
being known, produced a wonderful change in existing circumstances. His
father renounced the celibacy he had cherished since Matilda’s death,
anxious for future heirs by a new consort: his father-in-law, returning
home from Jerusalem, faithfully espoused the party of William, the
son of Robert earl of Normandy, giving him his other daughter[500]
in marriage, and the county of Maine; his indignation being excited
against the king, by his daughter’s dowry being detained in England
after the death of the prince.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1120.] PRINCESS MATILDA.]
His daughter Matilda, by Matilda, king Henry gave in marriage to Henry
emperor of Germany,[501] son of that Henry mentioned in the third
book. Henry was the fifth emperor of the Germans of this name; who,
although he had been extremely incensed at his father for his outrages
against the holy see, yet, in his own time, was the rigid follower
of, and stickler for, the same sentiments. For when Paschal, a man
possessed of every virtue, had succeeded pope Urban, the question again
arose concerning the investiture of the churches, together with all
the former contentions and animosities: as neither party would give
way. The emperor had in his favour all the bishops and abbats of his
kingdoms situated on this side of the mountains; because Charles the
Great, to keep in check the ferocity of those nations, had conferred
almost all the country on the churches: most wisely considering, that
the clergy would not so soon cast off their fidelity to their lord as
the laity; and, besides, if the laity were to rebel, they might be
restrained by the authority of their excommunication, and the weight
of their power. The pope had brought over to his side the churches
beyond the mountains, and the cities of Italy scarcely acknowledged
the dominion of Henry; thinking themselves exonerated from servitude
after the death of his brother Conrad, who, being left by his father as
king of Lombardy, had died at Arezzo. But Henry, rivalling the ancient
Cæsars in every noble quality, after tranquillizing his German empire,
extended his thoughts to his Italian kingdom: purposing to quell
the revolt of the cities, and decide the question of investitures,
according to his own pleasure. This progress to Rome, accomplished by
great exertion of mind, and much painful labour of body, hath been
described by David, bishop of Bangor, a Scot; though far more partially
to the king than becomes an historian. Indeed he commends highly even
his unheard-of violence in taking the pope captive, though he held
him in free custody; citing the example of Jacob’s holding the angel
fast till he extorted a blessing. Moreover, he labours to establish,
that the saying of the apostle, “No servant of God embroils himself in
worldly business,” is not repugnant to the desires of those bishops,
who are invested by the laity, because the doing homage to a layman, by
a clergyman, is not a secular business. How frivolous such arguments
are, any person’s consideration may decide. In the meantime, that I
may not seem to bear hard on a good man by my judgment, I determine
to make allowances for him, since he has not written a history, but
a panegyric. I will now therefore faithfully insert the grant and
agreement extorted from the pope, by a forcible detention of three
weeks; and I shall subjoin, in what manner they were soon after made of
none effect, by a holier council.
“The sovereign pope Paschal will not molest the sovereign king, nor
his empire nor kingdom, on account of the investiture of bishoprics
and abbeys, nor concerning the injury suffered by himself and his
party in person and in goods; nor will he return evil to him, or any
other person, on this account; neither, on any consideration, will
he publish an anathema against the person of king Henry; nor will
the sovereign pope delay to crown him, according to the ritual; and
he will assist him, as far as possible, by the aid of his office, to
retain his kingdom and empire. And this the sovereign pope will fulfil
without fraud or evil design.” These are the names of the bishops and
cardinals who, at the command of the sovereign pope Paschal, confirmed
by oath the grant to, and friendship with, the sovereign emperor
Henry: Peter, bishop of Porto; Censius, bishop of Sabina; Robert,
cardinal of St. Eusebius; Boniface, cardinal of St. Mark; Anastasius,
cardinal of St. Clement; Gregory, cardinal of the apostles Peter and
Paul; also Gregory, cardinal of St. Chrysogonus; John, cardinal of
St. Potentiana; Risus, cardinal of St. Lawrence; Remerus, cardinal of
Saints Marcellinus and Peter; Vitalis, cardinal of St. Balbina; Teuzo,
cardinal of St. Mark; Theobald, cardinal of John and Paul; John, deacon
in the Greek School;[502] Leo, dean of St. Vitalis; Albo, dean of
Sergius and Bacchius.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] OATH OF HENRY V.]
The king also made oath as follows: “I, Henry, the king, will, on
the fourth or fifth day of the ensuing week, set at liberty the
sovereign pope, and the bishops and cardinals, and all the captives
and hostages, who were taken for him or with him; and I will cause
them to be conducted, safely, within the gates of the city, beyond the
Tiber;[503] nor will I hereafter seize, or suffer to be seized, such
as remain under fealty to the lord Paschal: and with the Roman people,
and the city beyond the Tiber, I will, as well by myself as by my
people, preserve peace and security, that is, to such persons as shall
keep peace with me. I will faithfully assist the sovereign pope, in
retaining his papacy quietly and securely. I will restore the patrimony
and possessions of the Roman church which I have taken away; and I will
aid him in recovering and keeping every thing which he ought to have,
after the manner of his predecessors, with true faith, and without
fraud or evil design: and I will obey the sovereign pope, saving the
honour of my kingdom and empire, as Catholic emperors ought to obey
Catholic Roman pontiffs.” And they who swore on the part of the king
are these: Frederic, archbishop of Cologne; Godebard, bishop of Trent;
Bruno, bishop of Spires; Berengar, earl; Albert, chancellor; Herman,
earl; Frederic, count palatine; Boniface, marquis; Albert, earl of
Blandriac; Frederic, earl; Godfrid, earl; Warner, marquis.
This treaty being settled and confirmed by the oath of the aforesaid
bishops and cardinals, and mutual embraces exchanged, the sovereign
pope, on Sunday, the fourth before the ides of April, celebrated the
mass, “As though just born,” in which, after his own communion, and
that of the ministers at the altar, he gave the body and blood of our
Lord to the emperor with these words: “This body of the Lord, which
the truly holy church retains, born of the Virgin Mary, exalted on the
cross for the redemption of mankind, we give to thee, my dearest son,
for the remission of thy sins, and for the preservation of the peace
and true friendship to be confirmed between me and thee, the empire
and the priesthood.” Again, on the next day, the pope and the king met
at the columns[504] which are in the Forum, guards being stationed
wherever it was deemed necessary, that the consecration of the king
might not be impeded. And at the Silver[505] gate he was received by
the bishops and cardinals, and all the Roman clergy; and the prayer
being begun, as contained in the ritual, by the bishop of Ostia, as
the bishop of Albano, by whom it ought to have been said, had he been
present, was absent, he was conducted to the middle of the Rota,[506]
and there received the second prayer from the bishop of Porto, as the
Roman ritual enjoins. After this they led him, with litanies, to the
confessionary of the Apostles,[507] and there the bishop of Ostia
anointed him between the shoulders and on the right arm. This being
done he was conducted, by the sovereign pontiff, to the altar of the
aforesaid apostles, and there the crown being placed on his head by the
pope himself, he was consecrated emperor. After putting on the crown,
the mass of the Resurrection of the Lord was celebrated, in which,
before the communion, the sovereign pope, with his own hand, gave to
the emperor the grant, in which he conceded to him and his kingdom what
is underwritten; and in the same place confirmed it by the sanction of
a curse.
“Pope Paschal, servant of the servants of God, sendeth health and his
apostolical benediction, to his dearest son in Christ, Henry Augustus,
by the grace of Almighty God, emperor of the Romans. The Divine
disposal hath ordained, that your kingdom shall unite with the holy
Roman church, since your predecessors, through valour and surpassing
prudence, have obtained the crown and sovereignty of the Roman city;
to the dignity of which crown and empire, the Divine Majesty, by the
ministry of our priesthood, hath advanced your person, my dearest son
Henry. That pre-eminence of dignity, then, which our predecessors have
granted to yours, the Catholic emperors, and have confirmed in the
volume of grants, we also concede to your affection, and in the scroll
of this present grant confirm also, that you may confer the investiture
of the staff and ring on the bishops or abbats of your kingdom, freely
elected, without violence or simony: but, after their investiture,
let them receive canonical consecration from the bishop to whom it
pertains. But if any person shall be elected, either by the clergy or
the people, against your consent, unless he be invested by you, let him
be consecrated by no one; excepting such, indeed, as are accustomed
to be at the disposal of the archbishops, or of the Roman pontiff.
Moreover, let the archbishops or bishops have permission, canonically,
to consecrate bishops or abbats invested by you. Your predecessors,
indeed, so largely endowed the churches of their kingdom of their
royalties, that it is fitting that kingdom should be especially
strengthened by the power of bishops or abbats; and that popular
dissensions, which often happen in all elections, should be checked by
royal majesty. Wherefore, your prudence and authority ought to take
more especial care to preserve the grandeur of the Roman church, and
the safety of the rest, through God’s assistance, by your gifts and
services. Therefore, if any ecclesiastical or secular person, knowing
this document of our concession, shall rashly dare oppose it, let him
be bound with the chain of an anathema, unless he recant, and hazard
his honour and dignity. But may God’s mercy preserve such as keep it,
and may he grant your person and authority to reign happily to his
honour and glory.”
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1111.] HENRY V CONSECRATED EMPEROR.]
The whole ceremony of the consecration being completed, the pope
and the emperor, joining their right hands, went with much state to
the chamber which fronts the confessionary of St. Gregory, that the
pope might there put off his pontifical, and the emperor his regal
vestments. As the emperor retired from the chamber divested of his
royal insignia, the Roman patricians met him with a golden circle,
which they placed upon his head, and by it gave him the supreme
patriciate[508] of the Roman city, with common consent and universal
approbation.
All this parade of grants and consecration I have taken literally from
the narrative of the aforesaid David, written, as I said, with too
great partiality towards the king. In the following year, however,
a council was assembled at Rome, rather by the connivance than the
command of the pope, and the grant was nullified. The authors of
its reversal, were, the archbishop of Vienne, who afterwards ruled
the papal see;[509] and Girard, bishop of Angouleme: who stimulated
their brother bishops, to make these concessions of none effect. The
proceedings of that council were as follow.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1112.] COUNCIL AT ROME.]
“A.D. 1112, the fifth of the indiction, in the thirteenth year of
the sovereign pope Paschal the second, in the month of March, on the
fifteenth before the kalends of April, a council was held at Rome,
at the Lateran, in the church of Constantine;[510] where, when pope
Paschal, together with the archbishops, bishops, and cardinals and a
mixed company of clergy and laity, had, on the last day of the council,
taken his seat; making public profession of the Catholic faith, lest
any one should doubt his orthodoxy, he said, “I embrace all the Holy
Scripture of the Old and New Testament; the Law written by Moses, and
by the holy prophets: I embrace the four Gospels; the seven canonical
Epistles, the Epistles of the glorious preacher St. Paul, the apostle,
the holy canons of the apostles; the four Universal councils, as the
four gospels, the Nicene, Ephesian, Constantinopolitan, Chalcedonian:
moreover the council of Antioch and the decrees of the holy fathers,
the Roman pontiffs; and more especially the decrees of my lords pope
Gregory the seventh, and pope Urban of blessed memory. What they have
approved, I approve: what they held, I hold: what they have confirmed,
I confirm: what they have condemned, I condemn: what they have
opposed, I oppose: what they have interdicted, I interdict: what they
have prohibited, I prohibit: I will persevere in the same in every
thing and through every thing.” This being ended, Girard, bishop of
Angouleme, legate in Aquitaine, rose up for all, and by the unanimous
consent of pope Paschal and of all the council, read the following
writing. “That grant which is no grant, but ought more properly to
be called an abomination,[511] for the liberation of captives and of
the church, extorted from the sovereign pope Paschal by the violence
of king Henry, the whole of us in this holy council assembled, with
the sovereign pope, condemn by canonical censure, and ecclesiastical
authority, by the judgment of the Holy Spirit; and we adjudge it to
be void, and altogether nullify it: and that it may have neither
force nor efficacy, we interdict it altogether. And it is condemned,
on this account; because in that abomination it is asserted, that a
person canonically elected by the clergy and the people, shall not be
consecrated by any one, unless first invested by the king; which is
contrary to the Holy Spirit and to canonical institution.” This writing
being read, the whole council, and all present, unanimously cried out
Amen, Amen: So be it, so be it.
The archbishops there present with their suffragans were these: John,
patriarch of Venice: Semies of Capua: Landulf of Benevento: Amalfi,
Reggio, Otranto, Brindisi, Capsa, Cerenza;[512] and the Greeks,
Rosanus, and the archbishop of St. Severina; the bishops were, Censius
of Sabina, Peter of Porto, Leo of Ostia, Cono of Prænesti, Girard of
Angouleme, Galo of Leon, legate for Berri and the archbishop of Vienne,
Roger of Volaterra, Gaufrid of Sienna, Rolland of Populonia, Gregory
of Tarracina, William of Turin,[513] William of Syracuse, legate for
all the Sicilians, and near a hundred other bishops. Siwin, and John
bishop of Tusculum, though at Rome, were not present on that day of the
council; but they afterwards, on the reading of the condemnation of the
grant, assented and approved of it.
These things gaining publicity, all France made no scruple of
considering the emperor as accursed by the power of ecclesiastical
zeal hurled against him. Roused at this, in the seventeenth[514] year
of pope Paschal, he proceeded to Rome, to inflict signal vengeance
on him. But he, by a blessed departure,[515] had avoided all earthly
molestation, and from his place of repose on high, laughed at the
threats of the angry emperor; who having heard of his death, quickened
his journey, in order that ejecting John Gaitan, chancellor to the
late pope, who had been already elected and called Gelasius, he might
intrude Maurice,[516] bishop of Brague, surnamed Bourdin, on the See:
but the following epistle of Gelasius will explain the business more
fully.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] EPISTLE OF GELASIUS.]
“Gelasius, servant of the servants of God to the archbishops, bishops,
abbats, clergy, princes, and other faithful people throughout Gaul,
health. As you are members of the church of Rome, we are anxious to
signify to your affection what has there lately taken place. Shortly
after our election, then, the sovereign emperor coming by stealth
and with unexpected haste to Rome, compelled us to depart the city.
He afterwards demanded peace by threats and intimidation, saying he
would do all he might be able, unless we assured him of peace by oath.
To which we replied thus: Concerning the controversy which exists
between the church and the empire, we willingly agree to a meeting
or to legal discussion, at proper time and place; that is to say,
either at Milan or Cremona, on the next feast of St. Luke, at the
discretion of our brethren, who, by God, are constituted judges in the
church, and without whom this cause cannot be agitated. And since the
sovereign emperor demands security from us, we promise such to him,
by word and by writing, unless in the interim himself shall violate
it: for otherwise to give security is dishonourable to the church, and
contrary to custom. He, immediately, on the forty-fourth day after our
election, intruded into the bosom of the church, the bishop of Brague,
who, the preceding year had been excommunicated by our predecessor
pope Paschal, in a council at Benevento; and who had also, when he
formerly received the pall from our hands, sworn fidelity to the same
pontiff, and his catholic successors, of whom I am the first. In
this prodigious crime, however, thanks to God, the sovereign emperor
had no single Roman associate; only the Guibertines, Romanus of St.
Marcellus, Censius, who was called of St. Chrysogon; Teuzo, who for a
long time was guilty of many excesses in Dacia; these alone transacted
so shameless a deed. We command your wisdom, therefore, on the receipt
of these presents, that, deliberating on these matters in common, by
the grace of God, you be prepared, by his help, to avenge the mother
church, as you are aware ought to be done by your joint assistance.
Done at Gaeta on the seventeenth before the kalends of February.”
Gelasius after his expulsion, embarking at Salerno, came thence to
Genoa, and afterwards proceeded by land to Clugny, where he died.[517]
Then, that is A.D. 1119, the cardinals who had accompanied him,
together with the whole Cisalpine church, elevating with great pomp
Guido, archbishop of Vienne, to the papacy, called him Calixtus;
hoping, from the consideration of his piety and energy, that through
his power, as he possessed great influence, they might be able
to withstand the force of the emperor. Nor did he deceive their
confidence: for soon after calling a council at Rheims, he separated
from the churches such as had been, or should be, invested by the
laity, including the emperor also, unless he should recant. Thus
continuing for some time in the hither districts, to strengthen his
party, and having settled all affairs in Gaul, he came to Rome, and
was gladly received by the citizens, as the emperor had now departed.
Bourdin then, deserted, fled to Sutri, determining to nurture his power
by many a pilgrim’s loss; but how he was ejected thence, the following
epistle explains.
“Calixtus, the bishop, servant of the servants of God, to his beloved
brethren, and sons, the archbishops, bishops, abbats, priors, and other
faithful servants of St. Peter, clergy as well as laity, situated
throughout Gaul, health and apostolical benediction. As the people
have forsaken the law of the Lord, and walk not in his judgments, God
visits their iniquities with a rod, and their sins with stripes: but
retaining the bowels of paternal love, he does not desert such as trust
in his mercy. For a long time indeed, their sins so requiring, the
faithful of the church have been disturbed by Bourdin, that idol of the
king of Germany; nay, some have been taken captive, others afflicted,
through want in prison, even unto death. Lately, however, after
celebrating the festival of Easter, when we could no longer endure the
complaints of the pilgrims, and of the poor, we left the city with the
faithful servants of the church, and laid siege to Sutri, until the
Divine power delivered that Bourdin aforesaid, the enemy of the church,
who had there made a nest for the devil, as well as the place itself,
entirely into our power. We beg your brotherly love therefore, with us,
to return thanks to the King of kings, for such great benefits, and to
remain most firmly in obedience and duty to the catholic church, as you
will receive from God Almighty, through his grace, due recompence for
it, both here and hereafter. We beg, too, that these letters be made
public, with all due diligence. Done at Sutri on the fifth before the
kalends of May.”
How exquisite and refined a piece of wit, to call the man he hated, the
idol of the king of Germany! for the emperor certainly held in high
estimation Maurice’s skill in literature and politics. He was, as I
have said, bishop of Brague, a city of Spain: a man whom any one might
highly reverence, and almost venerate, for his active and unwearied
assiduity; had he not been led to make himself conspicuous by so
disgraceful an act: nor would he have hesitated to purchase the holy
see, if he could have found as desperate a seller as he was a buyer.
But being taken, and made a monk, he was sent to the Den,[518] for so
is the monastery called.
The laudable magnanimity of the pope proceeded still farther in the
promotion of justice, to the end that he might repress the boundless
and innate cupidity of the Romans. In his time there were no snares
laid for the traveller in the neighbourhood of Rome; no assaults on
him when he arrived within the city. The offerings to St. Peter,
which, through insolence, and for their lusts, the powerful used to
pillage, basely injuring such preceding popes as dared to complain,
Calixtus brought back to their proper use; that is to say, for the
public service of the ruler of the holy see. Neither could the desire
of amassing money, nor the love of it when collected, produce in his
breast any thing repugnant to justice: so that he admonished the
English pilgrims, on account of the length of the journey, rather to
go to St. David’s[519] than to Rome; allowing the benefit of the same
benediction to such as went twice to that place, as resulted to those
who went once to Rome. Moreover that inveterate controversy between the
empire and the priesthood, concerning investiture, which for more than
fifty years had created commotions, to such a degree, that, when any
favourer of this heresy was cut off by disease or death, immediately,
like the hydra’s heads, many sprouted up afresh; this man by his
diligence cut off, brought low, rooted out, or plucked up: beating down
the crest of German fierceness by the vigorous stroke of the papal
hatchet. This, the declaration of the emperor, and of the pope, will
shew to the world in the following words:
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] POPE CALIXTUS II.]
“I, Calixtus, bishop, servant of the servants of God, do grant unto
you, my beloved son, Henry Augustus, by the grace of God, emperor of
the Romans, that the election of bishops and abbats of the German
empire, who pertain to the regality, shall take place in your presence
without simony, or any violence: so that if any discord shall arise
between the parties, you may give your assent, or aid, to the worthier
side, by the counsel or judgment of the metropolitan or suffragans: but
the elect shall receive the royalties from you, and do whatever, by
these, he is lawfully bound to perform to you: but any one consecrated
in the other parts of the empire, shall, within six months, receive his
royalties from you, by your sceptre, and do whatever, by these, he is
lawfully bound to perform to you; all things excepted which are known
to belong to the Roman church. Moreover in those matters whereof you
have complained, and demanded my assistance, I will afford you aid
according to the duty of my office. I grant firm peace to you and to
all, who are, or were aiding you at the time of this dispute. Farewell.”
“In the name of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, I Henry Augustus, by
the grace of God, emperor of the Romans, for the love of God, and of
the holy Roman church, and of the sovereign pope Calixtus; and for the
release of my soul, do grant unto God, and the holy apostles Peter and
Paul, and to the holy catholic church, all investitures by the ring
and staff, and do allow canonical election, and free consecration to
take place, in all churches of my kingdom or empire. The possessions
and regality of St. Peter, which, from the beginning of this dispute
to the present day, have been taken away, either in my father’s or
my own time, and which I now hold, I restore to the same holy Roman
church: and such as I do not possess, I will faithfully assist her in
recovering. And of the possessions of all other churches, princes,
and others, clergy as well as lay, which have been forfeited in this
contention by the advice of my princes, or by course of law, such as I
have, I will restore; and such as I do not possess, I will faithfully
assist in recovering. And I grant firm peace to the sovereign pope
Calixtus, and to the holy Roman church, and to all, who are, or have
been on her side: and I will faithfully assist her in every thing in
which she requires assistance: and will afford her due justice in such
matters whereof she shall have complained. All these affairs were
transacted by the consent and counsel of the nobility, whose names are
here subscribed. Albert, archbishop of Mentz: Frederic, archbishop of
Cologne: the bishop of Ratisbon: the bishop of Bamburg: Bruno, bishop
of Spires: the bishop of Augsburg: the bishop of Utrecht: the bishop
of Constance: the abbat of Fulda: duke Herman: duke Frederic: Boniface
the marquis: Theobald the marquis: Ernulf count palatine: Othbert count
palatine: earl Berengar.”
The inveterate malady which had disturbed the church being thus
cured, every true Christian greatly rejoiced that this emperor, who,
in military glory trod fast upon the footsteps of Charles the Great,
neither degenerated from his devotion to God: for, in addition to nobly
quelling the rebellions of his German empire, he subdued his Italian
dominions in such wise as none had done before. Entering Italy thrice,
within the space of ten years, he restrained the pride of the cities:
at his first coming he exterminated by fire, Novaria, Placentia,
Arezzo: at the second, and third, Cremona, and Mantua; and quieted the
sedition at Ravenna, by a siege of a few days’ continuance: for the
Pisans and Pavians, with the people of Milan, embraced his friendship,
rather than encounter the weight of his enmity. The daughter of the
king of England, who, as I said before, was married to him, resembled
her father in fortitude, and her mother in sanctity: piety and
assiduity vied with each other in her character, nor was it easy to
discern, which of her good qualities was most commendable.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] WILLIAM, EARL OF POITOU.]
At that time lived William earl of Poitou; a giddy unsettled kind of
man; who, after[520] he returned from Jerusalem, as the preceding
book relates, wallowed as completely in the sty of vice, as though
he had believed that all things were governed by chance, and not by
Providence. Moreover, he rendered his absurdities pleasant, by a kind
of satirical wit: exciting the loud laughter of his hearers. Finally
he erected, near a castle called Niort, certain buildings after the
form of a little monastery, and used to talk idly about placing
therein an abbey of prostitutes, naming several of the most abandoned
courtezans, one as abbess, another as prioress; and declaring that
he would fill up the rest of the offices in like manner. Repudiating
his lawful consort, he carried off the wife of a certain viscount, of
whom he was so desperately enamoured, that he placed on his shield the
figure of this woman; affirming, that he was desirous of bearing her
in battle, in the same manner as she bore him at another time. Being
reproved and excommunicated for this by Girard bishop of Angouleme, and
ordered to renounce this illicit amour, “You shall curl with a comb,”
said he, “the hair that has forsaken your forehead, ere I repudiate
the viscountess;” thus taunting a man, whose scanty hair required no
comb. Nor did he less when Peter bishop of Poitou, a man of noted
sanctity, rebuked him still more freely; and, when contumacious, began
to excommunicate him publicly: for, becoming furious, he seized the
prelate by the hair, and flourishing his drawn sword: “You shall die
this instant,” said he, “unless you give me absolution.” The bishop,
then, counterfeiting alarm, and asking leave to speak, boldly completed
the remainder of the form of excommunication; suspending the earl so
entirely from all Christian intercourse, that he should neither dare
to associate, nor speak with any one, unless he speedily recanted.
Thus fulfilling his duty, as it appeared to him, and thirsting for
the honour of martyrdom, he stretched out his neck, saying, “Strike,
strike.” But William, becoming somewhat softened, regained his usual
pleasantry, and said, “Certainly I hate you so cordially, that I will
not dignify you by the effects of my anger, nor shall you ever enter
heaven by the agency of my hand.” After a short time, however, tainted
by the infectious insinuations of this abandoned woman, he drove the
rebuker of his incest into banishment: who there, making a happy end,
manifested to the world, by great and frequent miracles, how gloriously
he survives in heaven. On hearing this, the earl abstained not from
his inconsiderate speeches, openly declaring, that he was sorry he had
not despatched him before; that so his pure soul might chiefly have to
thank him, through whose violence he had acquired eternal happiness.
The following verses are a tribute of applause to the life and death of
Peter. It was said of him, when alive,--
Coarse food, his body: and the poor, his store
Consum’d: while study morals gave, and lore.
Virtues he rear’d, check’d faults, encouraged right,
And law: in peace, not tumult, did delight.
Help to the wretch, to sinners pardon gives,
And, for his friend, his ardour ever lives.
Busy for man was Martha; Mary’s heart,
Intent on God, assumed the better part:
So ’twas in him; for God his soul possess’d,
Unmix’d: his friendless neighbour had the rest,
Rachael he lov’d: nor Leah’s hopes depriv’d
Of joy: another Jacob, doubly-wiv’d;
Dotes on the one, for beauty’s matchless grace;
Regards the other, for her numerous race.
And when dead, it was said of him,--
Poor and confin’d, and exiled from his see,
The virtuous prelate bore each injury:
Now rich, free, fix’d, his suff’rings are made even,
For Christ he follows, and inherits heaven.
His life, religion: and a judgment sound,
His mind adorn’d; his works his fame resound,
Reading his knowledge, and a golden mean
His words, arrang’d: in his decisions seen
Was law: severity his justice arm’d,
And graceful beauty in his person charm’d:
His breast was piety’s perpetual stand,
The pastor’s crosier well-became his hand:
The pope promotes him, but the earl deprives:
Through Christ to joy eternal he survives.
The contemporaries and associates in religion of this Peter, were
Robert de Arbrisil,[521] and Bernard[522] abbat of Tyron, the first of
whom was the most celebrated and eloquent preacher of these times: so
much did he excel, not in frothy, but honeyed diction, that from the
gifts of persons vying with each other in making presents, he founded
that noble monastery of nuns at Font-Evraud, in which every secular
pleasure being extirpated, no other place possesses such multitudes of
devout women, fervent in their obedience to God. For in addition to
the rejection of other allurements, how great is this! that they never
speak but in the chapter: the rule of constant silence being enjoined
by the superior, because, when this is broken, women are prone to vain
talk. The other, a noted admirer of poverty, leaving a most opulent
monastery, retired with a few followers into a woody and sequestered
place, and there, “As the light could not be hidden under a bushel,”
vast numbers flocking to him, he founded a monastery, more celebrated
for the piety and number of the monks, than for the splendour and
extent of its riches.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] SERLO, ABBAT OF GLOUCESTER.]
And, that England may not be supposed destitute of virtue, who can
pass by Serlo, abbat of Gloucester, who advanced that place, almost
from meanness and insignificance, to a glorious pitch? All England is
acquainted with the considerate rule professed at Gloucester, which the
weak may embrace, and the strong cannot despise. Their leader, Serlo’s
axiom, was, “Moderation in all things.” Although mild to the good, he
was fierce and terrific to the haughty; to corroborate which, I shall
insert the verses of Godfrey the prior concerning him:--
The church’s bulwark fell, when Serlo died,
Virtue’s sharp sword, and justice’s fond pride:
Speaker of truth, no vain discourse he lov’d,
And pleas’d the very princes he reprov’d:
A hasty judgment, or disorder’d state
Of life, or morals, were his utter hate.
The third of March was the propitious day,
When Serlo wing’d, through death, to life his way.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] DEATH OF ST. LANZO.]
Who can in silence pass Lanzo, who flourished at that time, equal to
any in sanctity? A monk of Clugny, and prior of St. Pancras[523] in
England; who, by his worth, so ennobled that place with the grace of
monastic reverence, that it might be justly declared the peculiar
habitation of virtue. As nothing I can say will equal the merits of his
life, I shall merely subjoin, in the language I found it, an account of
his death; that it may plainly appear, how gloriously he had lived, who
died so highly favoured.
“The affectionate Lord who scourges every son whom he receives,--who
promises the just, that they shall be partakers of his sufferings as
well as of his consolation; permitted Lanzo to approach his death by
such bitter sickness, during three days, that if any spot from earthly
intercourse had adhered to his pure soul, it must no doubt have been
wiped away by that suffering. For, as that great apostle, who reclined
on the breast of our Lord, says, ‘If we say that we have no sin we
deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us;’ and since Christ will
judge every sin, either lightly here or more severely hereafter, he
was unwilling that any offence should be in the way of him after
death, whom he knew to have loved him with all his heart. Wherefore,
if there was anything which he thought worthy of examination in Lanzo,
he was desirous of consuming it in his lifetime. To this assertion
his confidence in death bore witness. For when in full health, on the
fifth day of the week before the passion of our Lord, having read
the psalter, according to the daily custom of Lent, and being about
to celebrate mass at the third hour, he had robed himself to the
chasuble,[524] and had proceeded in the service till mass was on the
eve of beginning, he was suddenly seized with such an acute disorder,
that himself laying aside the garments he had put on, he left them not
even folded up.[525] Departing from the oratory, he was afflicted for
two days, without intermission, that is, till the Saturday, having no
rest either sitting, walking, standing, lying, or sleeping. During the
nights, however, he never spoke to his brethren, though entreating
him to break silence; but to this he did not consent, beseeching them
not to sully the purity of his vow; for since he had assumed the
monastic habit, whenever he had gone out from complines, he had never
spoken till primes of the ensuing day. But on the Saturday, though
so convulsed as to expect dissolution every moment, he commanded the
brethren, now rising for matins, to come and anoint him: and when he
was anxious to kiss them, after being anointed, as is the custom,
through excess of love he saluted them, not lying or sitting, but,
though agonized to death, standing, supported in their arms. At dawn,
being conducted to the chapter-house,[526] when he had taken his seat,
he asked all the brethren to come before him, and giving them the
paternal benediction and absolution, he entreated the like from them.
He then instructed them what they were to do in case he died: and
so, returning whence he came, he passed the rest of the day with the
succeeding Sunday, rather more tranquilly; but, behold, after this,
that is, after Sunday, signs of approaching death were discovered; and
having his hands washed, and his hair combed, he entered the oratory
to hear mass; and receiving the body and blood of the Lord retired to
his bed. After a short time he became speechless, gave his benediction
to the brethren singly as they came before him, and in like manner
to the whole society. But lifting his eyes to heaven, he attempted
with both hands to bless the abbat, with all committed to his charge.
Being entreated by the fraternity to be mindful of them with the Lord,
to whom he was going, he most kindly assented by an inclination of
his head. After he had done thus, he beckoned for the cross to be
presented to him, which, adoring with his head and indeed with his
whole body, and embracing with his hands, he appeared to salute with
joyful lips and to kiss with fond affection, when he distressed the
standers-by with signs of departing, and, being caught up in their
arms, was carried yet alive into the presbytery before the altar
of St. Pancras. Here, surviving yet a time, and pleasing from the
rosy hue of his countenance, he departed to Christ, pure, and freed
eternally from every evil, at the same hour of the day on which, for
his purification, he had been stricken with disease. And behold how
wonderfully all things corresponded; the passion of the servant with
the passion of the Lord; the hour of approaching sickness with the
hour of approaching eternal happiness; the five days of illness which
he endured for purifying the five senses of the body, through which
none can avoid sin. Moreover, from his dying ere the completion of the
fifth day, I think it is signified that he had never sinned in the last
sense which is called the touch. And what else can the third hour of
the day, in which he fell sick, and by dying entered into eternal life,
signify, than that the same grace of the Holy Spirit, by which we know
his whole life was regulated, was evidently present to him, both in his
sickness and his death. Besides, we cannot doubt but that he equalled
our fathers Odo and Odilo,[527] both in virtue and in its reward, as a
remarkable circumstance granted to them was allowed to him also. For
as the Lord permitted them to die on the octaves of those festivals
which they loved beyond all other, (as St. Odo chiefly loved the feast
of St. Martin, and St. Odilo the nativity of our Lord, and each died
on the octaves of these tides), so to Lanzo, who beyond all of this
age observed the rule of St. Benedict, and venerated the holy mother
of God and her solemnities with singular regard, it happened that, as,
according to his usual custom, both on the demise of St. Benedict,
and on the festival of St. Mary, which is called the Annunciation,
he celebrated high mass in the convent: so on the eighth from the
aforesaid anniversary of St. Benedict, being stricken with sickness,
he also on the eighth day from the annunciation departed to Christ.
Wherefore, he who is unacquainted with the life of Lanzo, may learn
from his death, how pleasing it was to God, and will believe with us
that these things, which I have mentioned, did not happen after the
common course of dying persons, as he was a man surpassed by none, in
the present times, for the gifts of the Holy Spirit.”
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] GODFREY, PRIOR OF WINTON.]
Nor ought the memory of Godfrey, prior of Winchester, to decay, who
was celebrated in these times for his learning and his piety: his
learning is attested by many works and epistles composed in his
familiar and pleasing style, but principally by his epigrams, written
after the manner of satires, and his verses in celebration of the chief
personages of England.[528] Indeed he restored every divine office to
its native grace, from the manner in which he treated it, though before
it had become obsolete from antiquity. The laws of religion and of
hospitality, already happily traced out, he strongly impressed on the
monks, who to this day so closely follow the footsteps of the prior in
both, that they deserve all or nearly all possible commendation; indeed
in this house there is a place of entertainment to any extent, for
travellers of every description by sea or land, with boundless expense
and ceaseless attention. Among other things this holy man was noted
for his humility, so that nothing but what savoured of modesty and
sweetness proceeded from this singular depository of philosophy. How
great indeed must this commendation seem? for there is hardly any one,
even the least tinctured with learning, who does not appear to consider
others beneath his dignity, by his haughty gestures and proud gait
proclaiming the consciousness of his own erudition. However, that no
perfection might be wanting to his pure soul, he kept his lowly bed for
many years, equally consuming his vitals and his transgressions in the
furnace of lasting sickness.
But why should I enlarge on such characters? There were, indeed, at
that time in England many persons illustrious both for learning and
for piety, whose virtue was the more commendable in proportion to its
constancy and vigour in these degenerate times. By a blameless life,
therefore, they gave credibility to ancient histories, and freed them
from any suspicion of falsehood, as they produced modern example of the
possibility of doing what was there recorded. Moreover, were there any
prelates apparently degenerating from the sanctity of ancient times,
that is to say, skilled in secular, indolent in spiritual matters?
If there were such, I say, they endeavoured to shade their failings
by costly ornaments for their cathedrals. Each of them erected new
churches, and adorned the bodies of their saints with silver and gold;
lavish of expense to secure the good opinion of the beholders. Among
these is Ranulf before-mentioned, who, being made bishop of Durham,
purchased some glory for his name, by new buildings for the monks, and
by regard to St. Cuthbert. His fame is exalted by his translation of
the holy body, which when taken from its resting-place he exhibited to
all who wished to behold it. Radulf, at that time bishop of Sees, and
afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, with fortunate temerity, handled
and displayed the uncorrupted body; for it had become matter of doubt
with certain persons whether the miracle of the incorruption of the
corpse, which had formerly been reported, still had effect. About the
same time, in the monastery of Ely, under abbat Richard, the virgin
reliques of St. Etheldritha, subjects of amaze and reverence to the
beholders, were seen entire. This monastery, lately changed by king
Henry into a bishopric, had Hervey, as its first prelate; who, from
the scantiness of its revenues, had deserted Bangor, where he had
been enthroned. And that the bishop of Lincoln might not complain of
the mutilation of his diocese, the king made up his loss, out of the
possessions of Ely, and satisfied his claim. Indeed, whatever, in his
time, was unjustly purloined, or violently taken, from the primacy of
the two metropolitans of Canterbury and York, I will relate in its
proper place. For having now ended the series of the kings, it seems
incumbent on me, to speak of that of the bishops of all England:
and here I wish I had abundant matter for relation, in order that
such splendid luminaries of the country might no longer be lost in
obscurity. Moreover, there will perhaps be many in different parts
of England, who may say, that they have heard and read some things
differently related from the mode in which I have recorded them: but
if they judge candidly, they will not, on this account, brand me with
censure: since, following the strict laws of history, I have asserted
nothing but what I have learned either from relators, or writers, of
veracity. But be these matters as they may, I especially congratulate
myself on being, through Christ’s assistance, the only person, or at
least the first, who, since Bede, have arranged a continued history of
the English. Should any one, therefore, as I already hear it intimated,
undertake, after me, a work of a similar nature, he may be indebted to
me for having collected materials, though the selection from them must
depend upon himself.[529]
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1119.] CONCLUSION, TO EARL ROBERT.]
Thus much then, my venerated lord, I have had to relate, concerning the
history of the English, from their first arrival in this country, till
the twentieth year of your father’s most happy reign: the remainder
will occupy a separate volume, if you condescend a kind regard to
these. For when I had finished this work, after contemplating many
characters, I determined that it ought more especially to be dedicated
to you: as, when I examine others, I observe nobility in one; in
another military science; in a third learning; justice in a fourth;
but munificence in few indeed. Thus, I admire some things in one, some
in another; but in you the aggregate of all. For, if ever any man was
truly noble, you certainly excel in that quality; being descended
from the most glorious kings and earls, and resembling them in your
disposition. From the Normans, therefore, you derive your military
skill; from the Flemings your personal elegance; from the French your
surpassing munificence. Of your activity in war, who can doubt, when
your most excellent father himself looks up to it? For whenever any
tumults are reported in Normandy, he despatches you before him, in
order that, what is suspicious may be dispelled by your valour, and
peace may be restored by your sagacity. When he returns to his kingdom,
he brings you with him, as a safeguard to him abroad, a delight at
home, and an ornament every where.
So devoted are you to literature, that though distracted by such
a mass of business, you yet snatch some hours to yourself, for the
purpose either of reading, or of hearing others. Justly do you
regulate, indeed, your exalted rank in life, neither omitting the
toils of war for literature, nor contemning literature, as some do,
for military service. Here, also, the excess of your learning appears;
for, whilst you love books, you manifest how deeply you have drunk
of the stream. For many things, indeed, are eagerly desired when not
possessed, but no person will love philosophy, who shall not have
imbibed it thoroughly. The fame of your justice reaches even our
parts; for a false sentence has never been extorted from you, either
by elevation of rank, or by scantiness of fortune. The person who
wishes to subvert justice, finds in your breast nothing conducive to
his design, either by the offering of presents, or by the charm of
favour. Your munificence and disregard of money, is amply shown by
the monastery of Tewkesbury; from which, as I hear, you not only do
not extort presents but even return its voluntary offerings. You must
be well aware, how noble such a proceeding is, more especially at
the present time; how much it redounds to your glory among men, how
productive of the favour of God. Happy, then, according to Plato, is
the republic whose ruler is a philosopher, whose sovereign delights
not in gifts. More could I add on such subjects, did not the suspicion
of flattery on my part, and commendable modesty on yours, restrain my
tongue. In truth, my design was, not to pass by in silence the things
I have uttered, in order that, by my agency, your worth might reach
posterity; and that it may continue to proceed from virtue to virtue.
Moreover, it was long since my intention, at the instance of certain
persons, to subjoin to this work, whatever I may deem of importance,
according to the successive years: but it appears advisable rather to
form another volume of such matters, than to be perpetually adding
to that already completed. Nor can any one say, that I engage in a
superfluous work, if I record the transactions of the most celebrated
among the kings of his time. Indeed my lowly condition is much indebted
to his greatness, and will be still more so, were it for nothing
else, than his being able to pride himself on such a son.[530] For,
when he had most auspiciously begotten, he first commanded you to be
instructed, not superficially, as plainly appears at the present day,
in science; he next made you master of a most princely fortune; and, at
this moment he reposes his paternal regards upon you. Let this volume
then, whatever its merits or defects, be altogether dedicated to your
fame; in the next my life and my history will terminate together.
Farther, kindly accept this my offering, that I, whose judgment has not
erred in its choice, may be gratified by the good wishes of my patron.
THE MODERN HISTORY.
PREFACE,
ADDRESSED TO ROBERT, EARL OF GLOUCESTER.
To his most loving lord, Robert, son of king Henry, and earl of
Gloucester, William, librarian of Malmesbury, wishes, after completing
his victorious course on earth, eternal triumph in heaven. Many of the
transactions of your father, of glorious memory, I have not omitted to
record, both in the fifth book of my Regal History, and in those three
smaller volumes, which I have intituled Chronicles.[531] Your highness
is now desirous that those events which, through the miraculous
power of God, have taken place in modern time, in England, should be
transmitted to posterity: truly, like all your other desires, a most
noble one. For what more concerns the advancement of virtue; what
more conduces to justice; than to recognize the divine favour towards
good men, and his vengeance upon the wicked? What, too, can be more
grateful, than to commit to the page of history, the exploits of brave
men, by whose example others may shake off their indolence, and take up
arms in defence of their country? As this task is committed to my pen,
I think the narrative will proceed with exacter order, if, going back a
little, I trace the series of years from the return of the empress into
England, after the death of her husband. First, therefore, invoking
the help of God, as is fitting, and purposing to write the truth,
without listening to enmity, or sacrificing to favour, I shall begin as
follows.
BOOK I.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1126.] THE EMPRESS MATILDA.]
In the twenty-sixth year of Henry king of England, which was A.D.
1126, Henry, emperor of Germany, to whom Matilda the aforesaid king’s
daughter had been married, died[532] in the very bloom of his life and
of his conquests. Our king was at that time residing in Normandy, to
quell whatever tumults might arise in those parts. As soon as he heard
of the death of his son-in-law, he recalled his daughter by honourable
messengers despatched for that purpose. The empress, as they say,
returned with reluctance, as she had become habituated to the country
which was her dowry, and had large possessions there. It is well known,
that several princes of Lorraine and Lombardy came, during succeeding
years, repeatedly into England, to demand her as their sovereign;
but they lost the fruit of their labours, the king designing, by the
marriage of his daughter, to procure peace between himself and the earl
of Anjou. He was certainly, in an extraordinary degree, the greatest of
all kings in the memory either of ourselves, or of our fathers: and yet
nevertheless, he ever, in some measure, dreaded the power of the earls
of Anjou. Hence it arose, that he broke off and annulled the espousals
which William, his nephew, afterwards earl of Flanders, was said to be
about to contract with the daughter of Fulco, earl of Anjou, who was
afterwards king of Jerusalem. Hence, too, it arose, that he united a
daughter of the same earl to his son William, while yet a stripling;
and hence it was, that he married his daughter, of whom we began to
speak, after her imperial match, to a son of the same Fulco, as my
narrative will proceed to disclose.
In the twenty-seventh year of his reign, in the month of September,
king Henry came to England, bringing his daughter with him. But, at the
ensuing Christmas, convening a great number of the clergy and nobility
at London, he gave the county of Salop to his wife, the daughter of
the earl of Louvain, whom he had married after the death of Matilda.
Distressed that this lady had no issue, and fearing lest she should
be perpetually childless, with well-founded anxiety, he turned his
thoughts on a successor to the kingdom. On which subject, having held
much previous and long-continued deliberation, he now at this council
compelled all the nobility of England, as well as the bishops and
abbats, to make oath, that, if he should die without male issue, they
would, without delay or hesitation, accept his daughter Matilda, the
late empress, as their sovereign: observing, how prejudicially to the
country fate had snatched away his son William, to whom the kingdom by
right had pertained: and, that his daughter still survived, to whom
alone the legitimate succession belonged, from her grandfather, uncle,
and father, who were kings; as well as from her maternal descent for
many ages back: inasmuch as from Egbert, king of the West Saxons,
who first subdued or expelled the other kings of the island, in the
year of the incarnation 800,[533] through a line of fourteen kings,
down to A.D. 1043, in which king Edward, who lies at Westminster, was
elevated to the throne, the line of royal blood did never fail, nor
falter in the succession.[534] Moreover, Edward, the last, and at the
same time the most noble, of that stock, had united[535] Margaret,
his grand-niece by his brother Edmund Ironside, to Malcolm, king of
Scotland, whose daughter Matilda, as was well known, was the empress’s
mother. All therefore, in this council, who were considered as persons
of any note, took the oath: and first of all William, archbishop of
Canterbury; next the other bishops, and the abbats in like manner.
The first of the laity, who swore, was David, king of Scotland, uncle
of the empress; then Stephen, earl of Moreton and Boulogne, nephew
of king Henry by his sister Adala; then Robert, the king’s son, who
was born to him before he came to the throne, and whom he had created
earl of Gloucester,[536] bestowing on him in marriage Mabil, a noble
and excellent woman; a lady devoted to her husband, and blessed in a
numerous and beautiful offspring. There was a singular dispute, as
they relate, between Robert and Stephen, contending with rival virtue,
which of them should take the oath first; one alleging the privilege
of a son, the other the dignity of a nephew. Thus all being bound by
fealty and by oath, they, at that time, departed to their homes; but
after Pentecost, the king sent his daughter into Normandy, ordering
her to be betrothed,[537] by the archbishop of Rouen, to the son of
Fulco aforesaid, a youth of high nobility and noted courage. Nor did
he himself delay setting sail for Normandy, for the purpose of uniting
them in wedlock. Which being completed, all declared prophetically,
as it were, that, after his death, they would break their plighted
oath. I have frequently heard Roger, bishop of Salisbury, say, that he
was freed from the oath he had taken to the empress: for that he had
sworn conditionally, that the king should not marry his daughter to
any one out of the kingdom without his consent, or that of the rest of
the nobility: that none of them advised the match, or indeed knew of
it, except Robert, earl of Gloucester, and Brian Fitzcount, and the
bishop of Louviers. Nor do I relate this merely because I believe the
assertion of a man who knew how to accommodate himself to every varying
time, as fortune ordered it; but, as an historian of veracity, I write
the general belief of the people.
[Sidenote: [A.D. 1128.] OF THE SUCCESSION.]
The remaining years of the life and reign of Henry, I must review
briefly, in order that posterity may neither be defrauded of a
knowledge of these events, nor that I may seem to dwell on topics
little relevant to this history. In his twenty-eighth year, the
king[538] returned from Normandy; in his twenty-ninth, a circumstance
occurred in England which may seem surprising to our long-haired
gallants, who, forgetting what they were born, transform themselves
into the fashion of females, by the length of their locks. A certain
English knight, who prided himself on the luxuriancy of his tresses,
being stung by conscience on the subject, seemed to feel in a dream
as though some person strangled him with his ringlets. Awaking in a
fright, he immediately cut off all his superfluous hair. The example
spread throughout England; and, as recent punishment is apt to affect
the mind, almost all military men allowed their hair to be cropped
in a proper manner, without reluctance. But this decency was not of
long continuance; for scarcely had a year expired, ere all who thought
themselves courtly, relapsed into their former vice: they vied with
women in length of locks, and wherever they were defective, put on
false tresses; forgetful, or rather ignorant, of the saying of the
apostle, “If a man nurture his hair, it is a shame to him.”[539]