Chapter XXV: Appendix: NOTE A. Vol. i. p. 11 (5)

I quoted some of the passages bearing on the early life of Randolf Flambard in N. C. vol. iv. p. 521. I mentioned there that he had a brother named Osbern, who appears in the Abingdon History. He had another brother Fulcher, of whom we shall hear again. See Ord. Vit. 788 D, and vol. ii. p. 416. He had also a son Thomas. I do not feel quite so sure as I did then, or as Dr. Stubbs seems to be (Const. Hist. i. 348), that he really did hold lands in England T. R. E. The entry which looks like it is the second of the three in Domesday, 51, which stands thus in full;

“Isdem Ranulfus tenuit in ipsa villa i. hidam, et pro tanto
se defendebat T. R. E. modo est tota in foresta exceptis
iiii. acris prati terra fuit iiii. carucatarum. Hæ duæ terræ
valebant iiii. libras.”

It appears then that Flambard lost the arable part of this hide at the making of the New Forest, as he also lost another hide, with the same exception of four acres of meadow, which had been held T. R. E. by one Alwold. A third hide, of which it is said that “duo alodiarii tenuerunt,” he kept, as well as his holdings in Oxford and Oxfordshire. Dr. Stubbs suggests that these lands were “possibly acquired in the service of the Norman Bishop William of London.” Sir F. Palgrave (England and Normandy, iv. 52) makes the most of this despoiling of a Norman holder. But I am not clear that the words of the entry which I have given in full necessarily imply that the land was held by Flambard himself T. R. E. And, if we need not suppose this, his story becomes a great deal simpler. Above all, we need no longer suppose that a man who lived till 1128, and whose mother was living in 1100 (see vol. ii. p. 398), had made himself of importance enough to receive grants of land at some time before 1066.

* * * * *

The account of Flambard which is given by Orderic (678 C) would certainly not suggest that he had been in England in the time of Eadward;

“Hic de obscura satis et paupere parentela prodiit, et
multum ultra natales suos ad multorum detrimentum sublimatus
intumuit. Turstini cujusdum plebeii presbyteri de pago
Bajocensi filius fuit, et a puerilibus annis inter
pedissequos curiales cum vilibus parasitis educatus crevit,
callidisque tergiversationibus et argutis verborum
machinationibus plusquam arti literatoriæ studuit. Et quia
semetipsum in curia magni regis Guillermi arroganter
illustribus præferre ardebat, nesciente non jussus, multa
inchoabat, infestus in aula regis plures procaciter
accusabat, temereque majoribus quasi regia vi fultus
imperabat.”

It is not easy to reconcile this with the version which makes Flambard pass into the King’s service from that of Bishop Maurice, who did not become bishop till Christmas, 1085. The story of his service with Maurice appears in the account of him which is printed in Anglia Sacra (i. 705), and also along with Simeon (249 ed. Bedford, and X Scriptt. 59). It is much more likely that the name of the bishop should be wrongly given than that his service with some bishop of London should be mere invention. If so, he may have passed into the service of the Conqueror at almost any time of his reign, while still so young that it becomes an easy exaggeration on the part of Orderic to say that he was in the King’s service from his childhood. The passage in the Life which continues Simeon stands thus;

“Fuerat autem primo cum Mauritio Lundoniensi episcopo; sed
propter decaniam sibi ablatam orto discidio, spe altioris
loci se transtulit ad regem.”

This must surely refer to something which really happened; and in the Register of Christchurch Twinham (Mon. Angl. vi. 303) we distinctly read of Flambard, “qui Randulphus antea fuerat decanus in ecclesia Christi de Twynham.” But this is directly followed by another extract from the same register which denies that the heads of the church of Twinham ever bore the title of dean, and which connects Flambard with Twinham in quite another way. According to this story, there were at Twinham in the time of William Rufus twenty-four canons under a chief named Godric (“Hunc Godricum sui tunc temporis clerici, non pro decano, quasi nominis ignorantes, sed pro seniore ac patrono venerabantur”). Flambard, already bishop of Durham, obtains a grant of Twinham and its church from William Rufus (“Randulfus episcopus hanc ecclesiam cum villa a rege Willielmo impetravit”). If I rightly understand a very corrupt text, Flambard enriches the church and designs to rebuild it, and then to put in monks instead of canons; meanwhile he keeps the prebends vacant as they fall in. This Godric opposes; but in the end Flambard rebuilds the church, and keeps the prebends in his own hands till there are only thirteen left. Then comes his own banishment, and the grant of the church to one Gilbert de Dousgunels, after which Flambard seems to have had nothing more to do with it.

It is odd that so many prebends should have become vacant in the single year during which Flambard held the bishopric for the first time, and one would not have expected him to have been a favourer of monks. But I can get no other meaning out of the words “cupiens et disponens … præfatam ecclesiam … funditus eruere, et meliorem decentioremque cuilibet ædificare religioni.” What comes after seems plainer still;

“Fregit episcopus illius loci primitivam ecclesiam, novemque
alias quæ infra cimiterium steterant, cum quorundam domibus
canonicorum prope locum ecclesiæ cimiterii, et officinarum
compenciorem [?] faciendum et canonicis in villa congruum
immutationem [sic] ut dominus adaptavit locum. Fundavit
equidem hanc ecclesiam episcopus Randulfus quæ nunc est apud
Twynham, et domos et officinas cuilibet religioni. Obeunte
canonicorum aliquo, ejus beneficium in sua retinebat
potestate, nulli tribuens alii, volens unamquamque dare
præbendam religioni, si eos omnes mortis fortuna in suo
tulisset tempore.”

Now all this can hardly have happened between Flambard’s consecration in 1099 and his imprisonment in 1100. But he may have had the grant of Twinham before he was bishop. Again, in two charters (Mon. Angl. vi. 304), granted by the elder Baldwin of Redvers, we hear of deans of Twinham and of “Ranulfus decanus,” which seems to mean Flambard himself. The lands of the canons of Twinham are entered in Domesday, 44; but there is no mention of Flambard.

We thus have the absolutely certain fact that Flambard held lands near Twinham. In two independent sources he is said to have been dean of Twinham. In another independent source he is said to have held and lost some deanery not named. In yet another story he is described, not as dean of Twinham, but as doing great things at Twinham in another character. These accounts cannot literally be reconciled; but they certainly point to a connexion of some kind between him and the church of Twinham.

We must indeed mourn the loss of the primitive church of Twinham with its nine surrounding chapels, something like Glendalough or Clonmacnois. The nave of the present church may well be Flambard’s work; but it has no special likeness to his work at Durham. But this may only prove that he built it before he went to Durham, and there learned the improvements in architecture which had been brought in by William of Saint-Calais (see N. C. vol. v. p. 631). The seculars of Twinham made way for Austin canons about 1150.

While speaking of Twinham, I must correct a statement which I made long ago with regard to one of the chief worthies of my earlier story. I said (N. C. vol. ii. p. 33) that Earl Godwine was “nowhere enrolled among the founders or benefactors of any church, religious or secular.” I find him enrolled among the benefactors of Twinham. And here again we mark that, as with his wife (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 358) and his son, his bounty goes to the seculars. The passage, in one of the charters of the elder Baldwin of Redvers granted to Hilary Dean of Twinham (Mon. Angl. vi. 304), stands thus;

“Ecclesiam de Stoppele cum omnibus quæ ad eam spectant; unam
virgatam terræ cum appendiciis in eadem villa _ex dono
Godwini comitis_, quam Orricus de Stanton eidem Christi
ecclesiæ violenter surripuit.”

I cannot identify this “Orricus de Stanton” in Domesday, nor do I know anything as to the genuineness of the charter. But no one in the twelfth century or later would be likely to invent a benefaction of Earl Godwine.

* * * * *

Orderic, in the passage quoted above (678 C), distinctly speaks of Randolf as having been in the service of the Conqueror, and it must have been in his court that he got the surname which, in so many forms, has stuck to him, and which we find even in Domesday (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 521). The way in which he came by it is thus described――his false accusations have just been mentioned;

“Unde a Roberto dispensatore regio Flambardus cognominatus
est, quod vocabulum ei secundum mores ejus et actus quasi
prophetice collatum est. Flamma quippe ardens multis factis
intulit genti novos ritus, quibus crudeliter oppressit
populorum cœtus, et ecclesiæ cantus temporales mutavit in
planctus.”

In this last piece of rhetoric we seem to lose the real reason why he was called _Flambard_, which is not very clear: still less do we get any explanation of the form “_Passe_flambard.” Lappenberg (ii. 167) says “er habe den Beinamen von der Fackel wegen seiner schon früh bewährten Habsucht erhalten.” But one has some fellow-feeling with his translator (225)――if he would only have written English to match Lappenberg’s German――“It is not easy to conceive how the sobriquet of _Flambeau_ could be given to an individual on account of his covetousness.” Nor is it quite clear that it is covetousness strictly so called of which Orderic speaks. He says elsewhere (786 D); “Erat sollers et facundus, et, licet crudelis et iracundus, largus tamen et plerumque jocundus, et ob hoc plerisque gratus et amandus.”

In a letter to Pope Paschal (Epp. iv. 2) Anselm seems quite carried out of his usual mildness of speech by the thought of Flambard, especially by the thought of his being made a bishop. The letter must have been written just after Paschal and Flambard had received their several promotions. We get the same derivation of the name as in our other extracts; “Quando de Anglia exivi, erat ibi quidem professione sacerdos [see p. 330], non solum publicanus, sed etiam publicanorum princeps infamissimus, nomine Ranulphus, propter crudelitatem similem flammæ comburenti, promine Flambardus; cujus flamma qualis sit, non in Anglia solum, sed in exteris regnis longe lateque innotuit.”

Lappenberg, in the passage quoted above, refers to Thierry’s wonderful account of Flambard (ii. 141);

“Renouf Flambard, évêque de Lincoln, autrefois valet de pied
chez les ducs de Normandie, commettait, dans son diocèse, de
tels brigandages, que les habitants souhaitaient de mourir,
dit un ancien historien, plutôt que de vivre sous sa
puissance.”

I cannot find that Thierry speaks of Flambard anywhere else. The “valet de pied” must come from the bit in Orderic about the “pedissequi curiales.” The rest, including the wonderful confusion which makes him bishop of Lincoln, comes, as Lappenberg points out, from a passage in the Winchester Annals, 1092 (cf. 1097), which I shall presently have to refer to. But it is really amazing that Flambard’s loss of property in the New Forest did not cause him to be brought in at some stage or other as an oppressed Saxon.

NOTE T. Vol. i. p. 333.

THE OFFICIAL POSITION OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.

The exact formal position held by Flambard under William Rufus has in some measure to be guessed at, as the rhetoric of our authorities sometimes veils such matters in rather vague language. Thus his biographer (Anglia Sacra, i. 706) describes him;

“Admixtus enim causis regaliorum negotiorum, cum esset
acrioris ingenii et promptioris linguæ, brevi in tantum
excrevit ut adepta apud regem familiaritas totius Angliæ
potentes et natu quoque nobiliores illum superferret. Totius
namque regni procurator constitutus, interdum insolentius
accepta abutens potestate, cum negotiis regis pertinacius
insisteret, plures offendere parvi pendebat. Quæ res
multorum ei invidiam et odium contraxerat. Crebris
accusationibus serenum animi regalis ei obnubilare, et locum
familiaritatis conabantur interrumpere.”

Here we have a vague description of a position of great influence, without the bestowal of any official title whatever. Orderic (678 B), in first introducing him, comes somewhat nearer to a formal description;

“His temporibus quidam clericus nomine Rannulfus
familiaritatem Rufi regis adeptus est, et super omnes regios
officiales ingeniosis accusationibus et multifariis
adulationibus magistratum a rege consecutus est.”

What then was the formal description of this office which set its holder above all other officers of the King? Lappenberg (ii. 168, p. 226 of the English translation) and Stubbs (Const. Hist. i. 347) both rule, and seemingly with good reason, that the office held by Flambard was really that of Justiciar. Official names were at this time still used so vaguely that it seems to be only in another passage of Orderic (786 C, see p. 559) that he is directly called so; but, as Lappenberg says, his office is distinctly marked by the words of the Chronicler (1099), when he says that the King “Rannulfe his capellane þæt biscoprice on Dunholme geaf þe æror ealle his gemot ofer eall Engleland draf and bewiste.” The same office seems to be meant when Florence (1100) says, “Cujus astutia et calliditas tam vehemens extitit, et parvo tempore adeo excrevit, ut _placitatorem_ ac totius regni _exactorem_ rex illum constitueret.” Henry of Huntingdon uses the same word, when (vii. 21, p. 232 ed. Arnold) he seems to be translating the entry in the Chronicle; “Anno illo [1099] rex Ranulfo _placitatori_ sed perversori, _exactori_ sed exustori, totius Angliæ, dedit episcopatum Dunhelme.” Florence himself, in his entry under the same year, calls him “Rannulfus, quem negotiorum totius regni _exactorem_ constituerat.” (In 1094 he is “Rannulphus _Passe_flambardus.”) Dr. Stubbs (Const. Hist. i. 348) remarks that these “expressions recall the ancient identity of the _gerefa_ with the _exactor_, and suggest that one part of the royal policy was to entrust the functions which had belonged to the præfectus or high steward to a clerk or creature of the court.” In the Gesta Pontificum (274) William of Malmesbury, like the Biographer, calls him “totius regni _procurator_;” in Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 20), he is more vaguely “Ranulfus regiæ voluntatis maximus _executor_.”

We have seen that Randolf Flambard was a priest (see above, p. 556), and he is spoken of in a marked way as the King’s chaplain. His biographer (Angl. Sac. i. 706) says that “propter quandam apud regem excellentiam, singulariter nominabatur capellanus regis.” And we have seen that he is so called in the Chronicle. The word is found in only one other place in the Chronicle, namely in 1114, where it is said of Thurstan Archbishop of York, “Se wæs æror þæs cynges capelein.” We must remember that, with all the Red King’s impiety and blasphemy, he seems never to have formally renounced the fellowship of Christians, as he was never formally cut off from it. But his choice of an immediate spiritual adviser is at least characteristic.

* * * * *

Some of the passages describing the administration of Flambard are of special importance. That given by William of Malmesbury (iv. 314) I have had occasion to quote piecemeal; but it may be well to give it as a whole;

“Accessit regiæ menti fomes cupiditatum, Ranulfus clericus,
ex infimo genere hominum lingua et calliditate provectus ad
summum. Is, si quando edictum regium processisset ut
nominatum tributum Anglia penderet, duplum adjiciebat,
expilator divitum, exterminator pauperum, confiscator
alienarum hæreditatum. Invictus causidicus, et tum verbis
tum rebus immodicus, juxta in supplices ut in rebelles
furens; subinde cachinnantibus quibusdam ac dicentibus,” &c.

The last words of this extract are of special importance (see p. 332). Florence (1100) speaks to much the same effect; “Tanta potestate adepta, ubique locorum per Angliam ditiores ac locupletiores quosdam, rerum terrarumque ablatione, multavit, pauperiores autem gravi injustoque tributo incessanter oppressit, multisque modis, et ante episcopatum et in episcopatu, majores et minores communiter afflixit, et hoc usque ad regis ejusdem obitum.”

Orderic, in his second description (786 C), thus speaks of him;

“Hic nimirum de plebeia stirpe progressus Guillelmo Rufo
admodum adulatus est, et machinationibus callidis illi
favens super omnes regni optimates ab illo sublimatus est.
Summus regiarum procurator opum et justitiarius factus est,
et innumeris crudelitatibus frequenter exercitatis exosus,
et pluribus terribilis factus est. Ipse vero contractis
undique opibus, et ampliatis honoribus, nimis locupletatus
est, et usque ad pontificale stemma, quamvis pene
illiteratus esset, non merito religionis, sed potentia
seculari provectus est. Sed quia mortalis vitæ potentia
nulla longa est, interempto rege suo, ut veternus patriæ
deprædator a novo rege incarceratus est.”

Henry imprisons him, he goes on to say, “pro multis enim injuriis, quibus ipsum Henricum aliosque regni filios, tam pauperes quam divites, vexaverat, multisque modis crebro afflictos irreverenter contristaverat.” The tradition of him in later times remained to the same effect, as we see by the description of him in Roger of Wendover (ii. 165), which is copied with some improvements by Matthew Paris (Hist. Angl. i. 182);

“Tenuit autem eo tempore rex in custodia Ranulphum,
episcopum Dunelmensem, hominem perversum et ad omne scelus
pronum et paratum, quem frater ejus rex Willelmus episcopum
fecerat Dunelmensem et regni Angliæ _apporriatorem_ et
potius subversorem, nam vir fuit cavillosus. Qui cum regi
jam dicto nimis fuisset familiaris, constituerat eum rex
W[illelmus], quia quilibet sibi similes quærit questores,
procuratorem suum in regno, ut evelleret, destrueret,
raperet et disperderet, et omnia omnium bona ad fisci
commodum comportaret.”

In this extract the “apporriator,” a queer word enough, but the meaning of which is plain, the “vir cavillosus,” and the “quæstores,” all come from Matthew’s own mint.

* * * * *

The Biographer of the Durham bishops has a story to tell of Flambard at this time of his life. Some of those who had suffered by his false accusations and his other devices, seemingly persons about the court, make a plan to get rid of him altogether. A certain Gerald undertakes the task. He meets the Chaplain――Flambard is so called in a marked way throughout the story――in London, and tells him a feigned tale that his old master Bishop Maurice is lying at the point of death in one of his houses on the banks of the Thames――Stepney perhaps; it cannot be Fulham (see Domesday, 127 _b_) as the story shows――and wishes greatly to see Flambard once more before he dies. He himself had been sent by the Bishop with a boat to bring him with the more speed. Flambard, suspecting no harm, enters the boat with a few followers. The boat goes down the river to a distance which puzzles the Chaplain, who is put off with false excuses. At last he sees a larger vessel anchored in the middle of the stream, and clearly waiting for his coming. He now understands the plot. He is carried into the ship, which he finds full of armed men. With admirable presence of mind, he drops his ring, and his notary (“notarius suus”) drops his seal (“sigillum illius”), into the middle of the river――somewhat after the manner of James the Second――that they may not be used to give currency to any forged documents (“ne per hæc ubique locorum per Angliam cognita, simulata præcepta hostibus decipientibus transmissa rerum perturbarent statum”). Then his men are allowed to go on shore, on taking an oath that they will tell no one that their lord has been carried off. The ship puts out to sea, and presently goes with full sail southward. The Chaplain sits in the stern, while the sailors debate what kind of death he shall die. Two sons of Belial are chosen, who, for the wages of the fine clothes which Flambard has on, will either throw him into the sea or brain him with clubs (“Eliguntur duo filii Belial, qui illum in fluctus projicerent, vel fracto fustibus cerebro enecarent, habituri pretium sceleris optimas quibus tunc indutus fuerat vestes”). The would-be murderers dispute who shall have his mantle, and this delay saves his life. By this time the wind changes; a storm comes from the south, night comes on, the ship is dashed about hither and thither; there is no hope save to try to go back in the direction by which they have come. At this point they again debate the question of Flambard’s death. There is now a fear lest he should escape and avenge the wrong done to him. But, as is usual in such stories, one was found who was of milder mood; his name is not given, but he held the place in the ship next after Gerald (“quidam secundus in navi a Geraldo tantum exhorrens scelus”). He is struck with remorse; he confesses his crime to Flambard, and says that, if he will grant him his pardon, he will do what he can for him and stand by him as his companion in life or death. Then Flambard, whose spirit we are told always rose with danger, speaks to Gerald in a loud voice; Gerald is his man, whose faith is pledged to him; he will not prosper if he ventures on such a crime as this (“Tunc ille, sicut magnanimus semper erat in periculis, ingenti clamore vociferans, quid tu, inquit, Geralde, cogitas? Quid de nobis machinaris? Homo meus es; fidem mihi debes; hanc violare non tibi cedet in prosperum”). He calls on him to give up his wicked purpose; let him name his reward, and he shall have it; he will give him his hand as a sign of his own good faith (“Pete quantum volueris. Ego sum qui plura petitis præstare potero; et ne discredas promissis, ecce manu affirmo quod polliceor”). Gerald, having less faith in his promises than fear of his power, agrees. He goes back to the haven, and receives Flambard in his own house near the shore (“Ille non tam promissis illectus, quam potentia viri exterritus, consentit, eductumque de navi jam in portum repulsa honorifico in sua domo quæ litori prominebat procuravit apparatu”). But, still not trusting Flambard, he took himself off for ever (“Nequaquam credulus promissorum fugæ præsidium iniens æterno disparuit exilio”). Flambard goes back to London with a great array (“Ranulphus vero accitis undique militibus multa armatorum manu grandique strepitu deducitur Lundoniam”). All are amazed to see him whom they had believed to be dead. He takes his old place in the King’s counsels; he rises higher in the King’s favour than ever, and no man dares to form any more schemes against him as long as the King lives.

There seems no reason why this story should not be true; true or false, it is characteristic. Just as in the later case of Thomas of London, we see the greatness to which men of the class of Randolf Flambard could rise――their wealth, power and splendour, their numerous and even knightly following. One is tempted to ask something more about Gerald the author of this daring plot against Flambard’s life. Except that he is said to have gone away for ever, one would be tempted to think that he must be the same as Gerard――the two names are easily confounded――afterwards Bishop of Hereford and Archbishop of York, a man seemingly of much the same class and disposition as Flambard himself, and who appears (see pp. 524, 543) as a ready instrument of the will of William Rufus.

NOTE U. Vol. i. p. 332.

THE ALLEGED DOMESDAY OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.

I suppose that the story about a new Survey of England, to which Sir Francis Palgrave attached such great importance, may be held to be set aside by the remarks of Dr. Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 302, 348. He rules that in all likelihood Flambard had a hand in the real Domesday, and that Orderic simply made a mistake as to the date, which he is not at all unlikely to have done. Long before Dr. Stubbs wrote, I had come to the conclusion that the story in Orderic, as it stood, could not be accepted. It is found in Orderic’s first account of Flambard (678 C), where he tells us that he persuaded William Rufus to make a new Survey of England. He measured, we are told, by the rope――according, as it would seem, to the measure of Normandy instead of the measure of England――in order in some way to increase the King’s revenue. The words stand thus;

“Hic juvenem fraudulentis stimulationibus inquietavit regem,
incitans ut totius Angliæ reviseret descriptionem,
Anglicæque telluris comprobans iteraret partitionem,
subditisque recideret, tam advenis quam indigenis, quicquid
inveniretur ultra certam dimensionem. Annuente rege, omnes
carucatas quas Angli hidas vocant, funiculo mensus est et
descripsit; postpositisque mensuris quas liberales Angli
jussu Eduardi regis largiter distribuerant imminuit, et
regales fiscos accumulans colonis arva retruncavit. Ruris
itaque olim diutius nacti diminutione et insoliti vectigalis
gravi exaggeratione, supplices regiæ fidelitati plebes
indecenter oppressit, ablatis rebus attenuavit, et in nimiam
egestatem de ingenti copia redegit.”

I do not profess to know exactly what Flambard is here supposed to have done. Sir Francis Palgrave goes into the matter at some length, both in his English Commonwealth (ii. ccccxlvii) and in his History of Normandy (iv. 59). If I rightly understand his meaning, the _carucata_ in the valuation of the Conqueror was not an unvarying amount of the earth’s surface, but differed according to the nature of the land. A carucate of good land would consist of fewer acres than a carucate of bad. Flambard, we are to understand, measured out the land by the rope into carucates of equal size, and exacted from each the full measure of the geld. That is to say, an estate consisting mainly of poor land would be reckoned at many more carucates, and therefore would have to pay a much higher tax, than it had before. I do not say that this may not be the meaning; but the words of Orderic read to me as if they applied to an actual taking away of land, as well as to a mere increase in its taxation. One might almost fancy that, if a man had land of greater extent than answered to his number of carucates according to the new reckoning, the overplus was treated as land to which he had no legal claim, and was therefore confiscated to the crown. But the real question is whether anything of the kind happened at all. It is not mentioned by any writer except Orderic, and it is the kind of thing about which Orderic in his Norman monastery might not be very well informed. It should be remembered, as Lappenberg (ii. 168 of the original, 226 of the English translation) remarks, that Orderic makes no distinct mention of the real Domesday Survey, and this statement may very well have arisen from a confusion between the great Survey of the Conqueror and some of the local surveys of which there were many. Sir Francis Palgrave believed that he had found a piece of Flambard’s Domesday in an ancient lieger-book of Evesham abbey, which the mention of Samson Bishop of Worcester fixes to some date between 1096 and 1112. Of the genuineness of the document there is no doubt; but I cannot see, any more than Lappenberg did, any reason for supposing it to be anything more than a local survey. The passage printed by Sir Francis Palgrave, which he compares with the corresponding part of the Exchequer Domesday――to which it certainly has no likeness――relates wholly to the two towns of Gloucester and Winchcombe, so that it gives no means of seeing whether the number of carucates in any particular estate differs in the two reckonings.

I cannot believe with Lappenberg that “Henricus comes,” who appears among a crowd of not very exalted people as the owner of one burgess at Gloucester, is the future King; it is surely Henry Earl of Warwick.

Dr. Stubbs, while rejecting Orderic’s story altogether, further rejects Sir Francis Palgrave’s explanation of it. He merely hints that Orderic “may refer to a substitution of the short hundred for the long in the reckoning of the hide of land.” But it is safer to look, as he does, on the whole story as a misapprehension.

Of this way of measuring by the rope――whence the _Rapes_ in Sussex――several examples are collected by Maurer, Einleitung zur Geschichte der Mark- Hof- Dorf- und Stadtverfassung, 72. 135. Cf. Herodotus, vii. 23; ὤρυσσον δὲ ὧδε· δασάμενοι τὸν χῶρον οἱ βάρβαροι κατὰ ἔθνεα, κατὰ Σάνην πόλιν σχοινοτενὲς ποιησάμενοι. [ôrysson de hôde; dasamenoi ton chôron hoi barbaroi kata ethnea, kata Sanên polin schoinotenes poiêsamenoi.] In Sussex itself we have (see above, p. 68) the story of the measuring of the _lowy_ of Lewes by the rope, which is at least more likely than the story told by the same writer (Will. Gem. viii. 15) that the earldom of Hereford passed in this way to Roger of Breteuil; “Cui comitatus Herefordi funiculo distributionis evenit.”

The practice, in short, was so familiar that in the Glossary of Rabanus Maurus (Eckhardt, Rer. Franc. Or. ii. 963) “funiculum” is explained by _lantmarcha_ (cf. Du Cange in “funiculus”). So Suger (c. 15, Duchèsne, iv. 296) says how the Epte “antiquo fune geometricali Francorum et Danorum concorditer metito collimitat.”

NOTE W. Vol. i. p. 337.

THE DEALINGS OF WILLIAM RUFUS WITH VACANT BISHOPRICS AND ABBEYS.

The chief point to be insisted on is that the appropriation of the revenues of vacant bishoprics and abbeys by the King was an innovation of William Rufus on the suggestion of Flambard. Such a thing may possibly have happened before, though I am not prepared at this moment with an instance; but, if so, it was merely a case of the irregular way in which Church property, and all property, was often dealt with by those who had the power. It was not a logical deduction from any legal principle, such as it at once became when Flambard had established the doctrine that the greater Church benefices were fiefs held of the King by military service. The passage in the Chronicle which I have quoted at p. 348 does not say in so many words that the practice was an invention of Rufus or his minister, though the tone of the passage certainly implies that their doings were something new. Other writers speak more distinctly.

Next in authority to the Chronicler comes Eadmer, who is naturally full on the subject. He tells us in detail (Hist. Nov. 14) how Rufus dealt with the Church of Canterbury after the death of Lanfranc, speaking more lightly of other cases as being of the same kind;

“Cuncta quæ juris illius erant, intus et extra per clientes
suos describi præcepit, taxatoque victu monachorum inibi Deo
servientium, reliqua sub censu atque in suum dominum redigi
jussit. Fecit ergo ecclesiam Christi venalem: jus in ea
dominandi præ cæteris illi tribuens, qui ad detrimentum ejus
in dando pretium alium superabat. Unde misera successione
singulis annis pretium renovabatur. Nullam siquidem
conventionem Rex stabilem esse sinebat, sed qui plura
promittebat excludebat minus dantem; nisi forte ad id quod
posterior offerebat, prima conventione vacuata, prior
assurgeret. Videres insuper quotidie, spreta servorum Dei
religione, quosque nefandissimos hominum regias pecunias
exigentes per claustra monasterii torvo et minaci vultu
procedere, hinc inde præcipere, minas intentare,
dominationem potentiamque suam in immensum ostentare.”

He goes on to tell of the sufferings of the monks and of their lay tenants;

“Quidam ipsi ecclesiæ monachi malis ingruentibus dispersi ac
missi sunt ad alia monasteria, et qui relicti multas passi
tribulationes et improperia. Quid de hominibus ecclesiæ
dicam qui tam vasta miseria miseraque vastatione sunt
attriti, ut dubitarem, si sequentia mala non essent, an
salva vita illorum possent miserius atteri.”

He then mentions the like dealings with other churches, and adds the emphatic words;

“Et quidem ipse primus hanc luctuosam oppressionem ecclesiis
Dei indixit, nullatenus eam ex paterna traditione excipiens.
Destitutas ergo ecclesias solus in dominio suo tenebat. Nam
alium neminem præter se substituere volebat quamdiu per suos
ministros aliquid quod cujusvis pretii duceret ab eis
extrahere poterat.”

William of Malmesbury (iv. 314) is no less distinct as to the difference between the practice of the two Williams, and as to the agency of Flambard. Having given his character of him (see above, p. 558) he goes on;

“Hoc auctore sacri ecclesiarum honores, mortuis pastoribus,
venum locati; namque audita morte cujuslibet episcopi vel
abbatis, confestim clericus regis eo mittebatur, quo omnia
inventa scripto exciperet, omnesque in posterum redditus
fisco regio inferret. Interea quærebatur quis in loco
defuncti idoneus substitueretur, non pro morum sed pro
nummorum experimento; dabaturque tandem honor, ut ita dicam,
nudus, magno tamen emptus.”

He then goes on to contrast in a marked way the conduct of Rufus in these matters with that of his father; “Hæc eo indigniora videbantur, quod, tempore patris, post decessum episcopi vel abbatis omnes redditus integre custodiebantur, substituendo pastori resignandi, eligebanturque personæ religionis merito laudabiles; at vero pauculis annis intercedentibus omnia immutata.”

Orderic has two passages on the subject. One of them (763 C) is a mere complaint; “Defunctis præsulibus et archimandritis satellites regis ecclesiasticas possessiones et omnes gazas invadebant, triennioque seu plus dominio regis omnino mancipabant. Sic nimirum pro cupiditate reddituum, qui regis in ærario recondebantur, ecclesiæ vacabant, necessariisque carentes pastoribus Dominicæ oves lupinis morsibus patebant.” In the other (678, 679) he distinctly speaks of Flambard’s innovation, and goes more at length into the matter than any of the other writers. He has given one of the descriptions of Flambard which has been already quoted (see p. 559); and then goes on;

“Hujus consilio juvenis rex, morientibus prælatis, ecclesias
cum possessionibus olim sibi datis invasit, et tam in
abbatiis cœnobitas quam in episcopiis episcopales decanos et
canonicos cuilibet satellitum suorum subegit. Parcam autem
ad victum suum distributionem rerum eis delegabat, et
reliquos redditus suæ ditioni mancipabat. Sic avaritia regis
in ecclesia Dei nimis exarsit, et nefarius mos, _tunc
incœptus usque in hodiernum diem perseverans_, multis
animabus exitio fit. Hac enim de causa cupidus rex pastores
ecclesiis imponere differebat, et populus rectore et grex
pastore carens lupinis dentibus patebat, et multimodarum
toxicatis missilibus culparum sauciatus interibat.”

He then goes on to contrast the greediness and sacrilege of William Rufus with the bounty of the ancient kings and nobles from Æthelberht onwards. He again records and moralizes on the special innovation of Rufus with regard to the treatment of ecclesiastical properties during vacancies;

“Antequam Normanni Angliam obtinuissent, mos erat, ut dum
rectores ecclesiarum obirent, episcopus cœnobiorum quæ in
sua diocesi erant, res sollicite describeret et sub ditione
sua, donec abbates legitime ordinarentur, custodiret.
Similiter archiepiscopus episcopii res, antistite defuncto,
servabat, et pauperibus vel structuris basilicarum, vel
aliis bonis operibus, cum consilio domesticorum ejusdem
ecclesiæ distrahebat. Hunc profecto morem Guillelmus Rufus
ab initio regni sui persuasione Flambardi abolevit et
metropolitanam Cantuariæ sedem sine pontifice tribus annis
esse fecit ejusque redditus suis thesauris intulit. Injustum
quippe videtur, omnique rationi contrarium, ut quod Deo
datum est fidelium liberalitate principum, vel solertia
dispensatorum ecclesiasticæ rei laudabiliter est auctum,
denuo sub laicali manu retrahatur, et in nefarios sæculi
usus distrahatur.”

One effect of this practice must have been to make the monks and canons of the cathedral churches specially anxious to establish their distinct property in some part of the estates of the local church, separate from the property of the bishop. Under Flambard’s system, all the estates of the church were during a vacancy seized by the King, who allowed the monks or canons only such a pittance as he thought good. When episcopal and capitular estates were divided, when the body of canons held certain estates, and each canon by himself held certain others, all in _frank-almoign_, the seizure into the King’s hands of the estates which the bishop held by military tenure made no difference to the incomes of the canons.

NOTE X. Vol. i. p. 354.

THE APPOINTMENT OF HERBERT LOSINGA TO THE SEE OF THETFORD.

I have said something of the appointment of Bishop Herbert in N. C. vol. iv. p. 420. The notices in our authorities are a little puzzling. The Chronicle contains no mention of his appointment, but we read in 1094 (see p. 448) of his staff being taken from him by the King (“Herbearde Losange þam bisceop of Theotfordan his stæf benam”). This passage, of which I shall have to speak again, seems to have been misunderstood by a copyist of Florence, who, instead of his genuine text, has inserted the words which I have quoted in N. C. vol. iv. p. 420. This account would imply that Herbert bought both the bishopric for himself and the abbey for his father in 1094. Then follows a passage which is found in nearly the same words in both the works of William of Malmesbury (Gest. Reg. iv. 339; Gest. Pont. p. 151);

“Verumtamen erroneum impetum juventutis abolevit pœnitentia,
Romam profectus severioribus annis; ubi loci simonicum
baculum et annulum deponens, indulgentia clementissimæ sedis
iterum recipere meruit. Domum vero reversus, sedem
episcopalem transportavit ad insignem mercimoniis et
populorum frequentia vicum nomine Nordevic, ibique
monachorum congregationem instituit.”

This would place the journey to Rome after 1094. But there can be no doubt that Herbert received the bishopric in 1091, and that his repentance and journey to Rome took place between that year and 1094. He signs as bishop the charter of Osmund Bishop of Salisbury in 1091. And if any suspicion is thought to attach to that instrument, the profession rolls at Canterbury, as certified by Dr. Stubbs, are evidence enough of his consecration and his profession to a future archbishop. His consecration by Thomas of York is also recorded by T. Stubbs, Scriptt. 1707. The true story is given in another manuscript of Florence, the reading of which is given by Mr. Thorpe in a note, and in which the entry of 1094 stands thus; “Ubi etiam Herebertum, Theotfordensem episcopum, pastorali baculo privavit. Latenter enim Urbanum papam adire, et ab eo pro episcopatu quem sibi, et abbatiam quam patri suo Rotberto, ab ipso rege Willelmo mille libris emerat, absolutionem quærere voluit.” The case seems quite clear. Herbert buys the bishopric of the King; he repents, goes to Rome, and is reinvested by the Pope. The King looks on this as an insult to the royal authority and takes his staff from him. But he must have made his peace with the King within the next two years. For at the end of that time he began the translation of his see from Thetford to Norwich. The Annals of Bartholomew Cotton (Anglia Sacra, i. 397) give 1091 as the date of his appointment to Thetford, 1094 as the year of his translation to Norwich, and 1096 as the beginning of the foundation of the church of Norwich. And it appears from the local Annals of Saint Eadmund’s (Liebermann, 275) that he was acting as bishop in East-Anglia, whether by the style of Thetford or of Norwich, in 1095. I cannot help thinking that the date assigned to the translation by Bartholomew Cotton is really a confusion with the date of his temporary deprivation. In either case he ceased to be Bishop of Thetford in 1094; most likely he did not become Bishop of Norwich till 1096. It seems from the Norwich documents in Anglia Sacra (i. 397, 407; Mon. Angl. iv. 13-15) that he began to build the church of Norwich in 1096, and planted monks there in 1101. The local writers are full of panegyrics on his virtues. His letters are printed in the series called Scriptores Monastici, but they do not contain much that is of importance for our history. He has a few correspondents with English names, one of whom, Ingulf by name, was Prior of the newly founded monastery of Norwich.

* * * * *

A third manuscript of Florence, the text of which is printed by Mr. Thorpe in a note, seems to follow the version which was acceptable at Norwich and leaves out the deprivation in 1094; “Hoc anno [1094] venerabilis Herbertus, Theotfordensis episcopus, a Roma cum benedictione apostolica rediit: et a Willelmo rege impetravit ut sedes episcopalis in Norwicensi ecclesia firmaretur, ubi ipse, Christi juvante gratia, pulcherrimam congregationem monachorum ad honorem Sanctæ Trinitatis adunavit.”

The account in William of Malmesbury (Gesta Regum, iv. 338, 339) is evidently meant to make a striking rhetorical contrast between the unregenerate Herbert who bought the see of Thetford and the converted and sanctified Herbert who founded the church of Norwich. He becomes a special enemy of the simony which he had himself once practised; “Sicut tempore istius regis symoniæ causidicus, ita posterius propulsator invictus, neque ab aliis fieri voluit quod a se præsumptum quondam juvenili fervore indoluit.” His fuller picture in his earlier state is that he was “magnus in Anglia symoniæ fomes, abbatiam episcopatumque nummis aucupatus; pecunia scilicet regiam sollicitudinem inviscans, et principum favori non leves promissiones assibilans.” Then follow the well-known verses containing the lines

“Surgit in ecclesia monstrum, genitore Losinga.

* * * * *

“Filius est præsul, pater abbas, Symon uterque.”

William of Malmesbury (iv. 339) makes one very singular remark in recording the restoration of Herbert to his see by the Pope;

“Iterum recipere meruit; quod Romani sanctius et ordinatius
censeant ut ecclesiarum omnium sumptus suis potius marsupiis
serviant quam quorumlibet regum usibus militent.”

The fling at Roman greediness is in the true English style of all times; but, in the connexion in which it stands, the idea which it suggests is that Herbert, who had once bought his bishopric of the King, bought it again of the Pope.

On the name _Losinga_ see De Rémusat, Anselme, 199; Diez, Etymologisches Wörterbuch, i. 255. It seems to come from _laudare_.

NOTE Y. Vol. i. p. 374.

THE LETTERS OF ANSELM.

The letters of Anselm throw so much light on the events of the time, they open to us so many bits of local and personal detail, both in England and in Normandy, that we are not only thankful for the help which they give us for this period, but sometimes feel a certain grudge that we have no help of the same kind for earlier periods. Anselm’s correspondents are found in all lands and in all ranks. All his letters are of course in Latin, a tongue which must, one would think, have in many cases needed to be interpreted to those to whom the letters came. A touch or two in any natural language, whether English, French, or whatever may have been the exact form of Romance spoken at Aosta, would have been, not only a relief, but a precious source of knowledge. But for this of course we must not look in these times, whether from Anselm or from any one else.

In several places in the text I have used the letters of Anselm among my most important materials. They form one of our sources for the details of his own appointment to the archbishopric (see p. 400), while his correspondence with Cardinal Walter has given us (see p. 537, and vol. ii. p. 41) some details not found elsewhere with regard to the campaign against Robert of Mowbray. We have also had, in one of his letters to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons (iii. 24, see p. 419), Anselm’s fullest account of the questions which led to the Assembly at Rockingham. The correspondence of course goes on into the reign of Henry, and many of the letters which pass between the King and the Archbishop are in fact state papers, and are, as such, inserted by Eadmer in his history. The immediate historical value of these belongs of course to a time later than that dealt with in the present volume. But the whole series is full of matter bearing on English affairs, and on the affairs of other persons and places in which we are interested. I will therefore go on to mention some of the matters connected with our own and kindred subjects which are suggested by the letters here and there. Many are addressed to Lanfranc, Gundulf, Priors Henry and Ernulf of Canterbury, and others who play parts of more or less importance in our story. A good many are to princes of various lands, many to devout ladies, with the names of some of whom, as those of Countess Adela, the daughter of the Conqueror, and Countess Ida of Boulogne, we are already familiar. There are also the special “ladies and mothers” (dominæ et matres) of the church of Bec, who, without embracing the monastic profession, had given themselves to a devout life under the shadow of the monastery (Chronicon Beccense, Lanfranc, ed. Giles, i. 202; De Nobili Crispinorum Genere, ib. 347; Anselm, Epp. ii. 26, 51; iii. 138). These were Basilia the wife of Hugh of Gournay――who himself, with Hugh of Meulan, the father of the famous Count Robert, became a monk at Bec――her niece Amfrida, and Eva, the widow of William Crispin. There are also a crowd of letters to prelates, nobles, monks, nuns, and persons of all kinds, which throw incidental light on various points in the history of the time.

The close connexion between Bec and England comes out very early in the series. It is perhaps not inappropriate that the earliest mention of England concerns its money, which was so much sought after beyond sea. This is in i. 13, where a moneyer of Arras, who wishes to turn monk, but who has first to pay his debts, is sent by Anselm, not yet abbot, to Lanfranc, already archbishop, who will give him a hundred shillings of English money towards paying them. In i. 15 he writes to Henry, seemingly the future Prior of Christ Church, who was already in England, with a piece of advice which we should hardly have expected from Anselm. Being a monk, he is not to go into Italy to try to defend his sister whom a certain rich man unjustly claims as a slave or villain (“ire de Anglia in Italiam sororem tuam defendere, quam audis quemdam divitem indebitæ servituti calumniose subjicere”). (It is less unreasonable when (iii. 127) he counsels the nun Matilda not to go and visit her lay kinsfolk.) In another letter (i. 35) Anselm speaks of the number of Normans who were crossing into England, and how few of them there were whom he could trust with a letter (“Licet multi Northmanni ad Anglos transeant, paucissimi tamen sunt qui, me sciente, hoc faciant; in quibus paucissimis vix est aliquis quem nostrum legationem sine dilatione et non negligenter facturum confidam”). This is written to Maurice, a monk of Bec, who, with some others, had moved to Canterbury. Of the English monks at Bec (i. 65) I have already said something (see p. 375). When Anselm becomes abbot, and has to deal with the possessions of the monastery in England, the references to English matters naturally thicken, as in ii. 3, 4, 5, 6. This last is addressed to Richard of Clare and his wife Rohais or Rohesia, the daughter of Walter Giffard, of whose name the old commentator Picard oddly says, “insuper nomen Rohais pleno gutture personat Anglismum.” The next letter (iii. 7) shows that some of the Normans who passed into England did not always choose the best parts of our character to copy. For a monk named Henry is rebuked for drinking to excess at gild-meetings. Here an English word thrusts itself in, and we read, “audio quia in multis inordinate se agit, et maxime inbibendo, ita ut in _gildis_ cum ebriosis bibat et cum eis inebrietur.” In ii. 9 Anselm records one of his own journeys to England, and his reception at Lyminge by Lanfranc. We have more references to his own English journeys and those of others in ii. 13, 18, 19, 26 (a most remarkable one, of which I have spoken in N. C. vol. iv. p. 440), 27, 30, 45, 46 (where he prays for the forgiveness of a runaway monk called Moses of Canterbury), 47, 53.

Anselm’s letters as archbishop are of course yet fuller of the English history of the time. The first part of the third book is wholly taken up with the correspondence following on his appointment to the archbishopric. The second letter in this book is a most remarkable letter from Anselm’s friend Osbern (see p. 374) strongly exhorting him to accept the archbishopric. He is not to set up his own will against the will of the whole English Church which calls for him as its chief;

“Ut enim in offenso dulcissimo mihi amore tuo loquar, aut
cunctis, quod non credimus, meliorem te fateberis, quippe
cui soli revelatum est quod universæ Anglorum ecclesiæ fas
non erat revelari; aut facias necesse est quod universalis
Anglorum ecclesia suadet, hoc est, ut pontificalis infulæ
principatum inter beatos apostolos sustinere non renuas.”

Osbern goes on to say that Anselm has already proof enough that it is God’s will that he shall take the offered post. In so doing, he gives a vivid picture of the circumstances of the appointment and of the Red King’s momentary reform;

“Quid insignius ad te eligendum ostenderet Deus, quam, ut tu
promovereris, regem triumphis nobilem, severitate cunctis
formidabilem, lecto decubuisse, ad mortem usque ægrotavisse,
te autem provecto, statim eundem respiravisse, convaluisse,
atque ex fero et immani mitissimum pariter et mansuetissimum
redditum fuisse? Quid, inquam, aut effectum dulcius, aut ad
innocentiam præstantius, quam te ante lectum ægrotantis
violenter pertractum, dextram aliorum dextris impudenter de
sinu abstractam, sinistram, ne sororem juvaret, fortiter
retentam, virgam, ceteris digitulis pertinaciter occlusis,
pollici atque indici crudeliter impactam, post hæc toto
corpore e terra te elevatum, episcopalibus brachiis ad
ecclesiam deportatum, ibique adhuc te reclamante, et
importunis nimis obsistente, Te Deum laudamus esse cantatum?
Quid, inquam, vel ad divinas laudes magnificentius vel ad
humana spectacula gaudentius, quam quod in tua electione,
exclusis omnibus transactæ tempestatis afflictionibus, omnia
ad proprii juris possessionem veluti jubileo termino
cucurrerunt, dum vincti ad expeditionem, carcerati ad lucem,
captivi ad libertatem, oppressi dirissimis exactorum
furoribus redierint ad erectionem.”

Osbern clearly had an eye for the comic element in the amazing scene at Gloucester. He then goes on, among other things, to enlarge on the dignity of the church of Canterbury. By a bold figure, he conceives Anselm at the last day called before the judgement-seat, because he had slain thousands of men, while seeking for the safety of a few (“cur non cogitabas infinita hominum millia te occidisse, dum paucorum volebas saluti consulere”). The church of Canterbury, the bride of Christ, consecrated from the beginning by the blessing of his Apostle Peter――the same story which we have heard at Westminster (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 511), and which is told in a slightly different, and still more daring, shape at Glastonbury――enriched by the privileges of so many popes, and to which, saving the authority of the Roman church alone, all the other churches round about were used to look for the defence of their freedom (“ad quam, salva Romanæ et apostolicæ sedis auctoritate, omnium circa regionum ecclesiæ in suis oppressionibus confugere atque ab ea tuendæ libertatis præsidia expetere simul ac suscipere solebant”), now called on Anselm to come to the succour of her liberties, and he refused. Osbern draws out this bold metaphor at great length, and at last disposes of Anselm’s scruples about his allegiance to the Norman Duke and to the church of Bec (“præmonstravi oraculis, comprobavi miraculis; verum tu mihi prætulisti Normanniæ comitem, Deo vermem, viventi mortalem, latitudini Anglorum angustæ solitudinis nidum”). He draws largely on Canterbury legends about Laurence and Dunstan, in order to set forth that church as specially under the divine favour. He, Anselm, had been called in a special way to be their successor (“cum neque sis privata gratia exhibitus, neque mercenarius, neque Simonis discipulus, sed quem et divina vocavit electio et apostolica informavit institutio”), and that call he was bound to obey.

The word “mercenarius” in the extract just made is perhaps meant to contrast the palpable purity of Anselm’s nomination with the appointment of those bishops who, whether they actually bought their sees or not, at least received them us the reward of temporal services. There is another letter (iii. 5) from Osbern to Anselm, which is simply an earnest prayer that he will no longer put off his full admission to the archbishopric.