Chapter XXVI: Appendix: NOTE A. Vol. i. p. 11 (6)

There are also several letters of Anselm (iii. 1, 4, 7), and one of Gundulf (iii. 3), to the monks of Bec, to which some references have already been made (see pp. 405, 406). There is also one (iii. 6) from the monks of Bec to Anselm, announcing their consent to his acceptance of the archbishopric. It describes the division in the convent, how each monk gave his vote at the call of the president, whom, from this form of words, we may suppose not to have been the prior (“omnes in unum congregati sumus, unusquisque nostrum de sua sententia ab eo qui præsidebat nominatim est requisitus”). The party which opposed Anselm’s removal is described as “suo potius quam vestro utens atque fidens consilio, ardentiori, atque, ut sibi videtur, rectiori, amoris vestri zelo.” The monk Lanfranc, nephew of the Archbishop, a person who is often mentioned in the letters, is to give Anselm a fuller account (“quæ pars alteram aut numero aut ratione præponderet, domnus Lanfrancus, qui interfuit, et omnia hic apud nos gesta sive dicta et vidit et audivit, plenissime per seipsum et sufficienter vobis dicit”). We have here a trace of that odd appeal from the “major pars” to the “sanior,” which seems so utterly to upset every notion of real election, but which is so often heard of in the ecclesiastical debates of the time. The letter of the monks however, though not very positively expressed, seems to have been taken as a release. Other letters follow, in which Anselm recommends (iii. 8) William of Montfort (see Vitæ Abbatum Beccensium, i. 313, Giles) as his successor in the abbacy, and commands the Prior Baldric to keep his place, whoever may be chosen abbot. In another letter (iii. 15) he announces to the monks his coming consecration, and tells them that the King has promised to protect all their rights in England as long as they live according to Anselm’s counsel (“Rex Anglorum vobis mandat salutem et auxilium suum et custodiam rerum vestrarum quæ sunt in sua potestate, quamdiu meo consilio agetis et vivetis. Si autem illud spreveritis, in illo proficuum non habebetis”). He writes also a letter (iii. 10) to Bishop Gilbert of Evreux, of whom we have often heard, but who in Migne’s text is strangely changed into “Eboracensis episcopus,” explaining his motives for accepting the archbishopric. He writes to the same effect (iii. 11) to Fulk Bishop of Beauvais.

Once settled in the archbishopric, Anselm has to write about other matters. The affairs of his province bring much correspondence. Thus he writes (iii. 20) to Bishop Osbern of Exeter and his canons on behalf of the monks of Battle (“monasterium quod vulgo dicitur de Batailla”), who held the church of Saint Olaf at Exeter (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 350, vol. iv. pp. 166, 406; Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 64). He urges that they may be allowed to ring their bells. In a letter (iii. 23) to Ralph Abbot of Seez, afterwards Anselm’s own successor, we get a mention of Bishop Herewald of Llandaff (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 447, 692), who, it seems, like his brother bishop Wilfrith of Saint David’s (see p. 534), had been suspended from the episcopal office;

“De fratre illo quem dicitis esse ordinatum a quodam
episcopo, quia a nobis est interdictus, hoc respondeo, quia
si ordinatus est ab episcopo de Walis, qui vocatur
Herewardus, nec illis ordinibus, quos ab illo accepit,
nostra concessione aliquando utetur, nec ab ullo episcopo
reordinari debet.”

The same letter contains Anselm’s views, not on any matter touching Norman or English history, but on a point of obvious morality which had been dealt with long ago by the singer of the Odyssey (i. 260-263);

“De altero vero fratre, qui herbas quæsivit mulieri, quibus
virum suum interficeret, quamvis prope vos habeatis de hac
re in Northmannia sufficiens consilium, tamen quia a me hoc
petitis, nostrum negare non debeo sensum. Si monachus noster
esset, et vir ille cujus morti quæsivit herbas ipsis
interfectus esset, nunquam ad diaconatum per me, vel ad
sacerdotium ascenderet.”

Next follows the great letter to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons, to which I have often referred; and not long after come the important letters (iii. 35, 36), of which also I have often spoken. In iii. 29 Anselm writes to Prior Henry and the rest of the monks of Christ Church――among them Anthony, Ernulf, and Osbern, all names known to us――charging them to leave off disputes, and to enforce holy obedience. Next (iii. 30) comes a letter to Matilda Abbess of Wilton (Wintoniensis in Migne), urging obedience to the diocesan Bishop Osmund of Salisbury. The house of Saint Werburh at Chester, in whose foundation Anselm had had a hand, comes in several times for his notice (iii. 34, 49). A crowd of letters bearing on points in the history later than our time may be passed by, but there are two very singular ones which throw a curious light on English nomenclature. In iii. 133 we have a letter thus addressed;

“Anselmus archiepiscopus amico et filio carissimo Roberto,
et sororibus et filiabus suis dilectissimis Seit, Edit et
Hydit, Luverim, Virgit, Godit, salutem et benedictionem Dei
et suam, si quid valet.”

In the second letter, numbered in Migne iv. 110, the heading is, “Anselmus archiepiscopus, Roberto, Seyt, Edit, carissimis suis filiis, salutem et benedictionem Dei, quantum potest.” The persons addressed seem to have been devout women of some kind, living under the spiritual care of their confessor Robert. The letters tell us nothing as to the position of the persons addressed; they contain nothing but good advice which might be useful in any time or place; but the names seem to have greatly perplexed the German and French biographers of Anselm. Hasse (Anselm von Canterbury, i. 502) says, “Interessant ist besonders ein Brief an die Nonnen eines Klosters in Wales, wie es scheint,” and he adds in a note;

“Ich schliesse dies aus den Namen ‘Seit, Edit, Hydit,
Luverim, Virgit, Godit’ die in der Ueberschrift genannt
werden. Ob es wohl _weibliche_ Namen sind? In dem Briefe v.
16 [iv. 110, Migne] werden nämlich dieselben Personen als
_filii_ (wenn dies nicht ein Druckfehler ist) angeredet, die
hier [iii. 133, Migne] _filiæ_ heissen. Ein _celtisches_
Kloster war es jedenfalls; doch kann es auch in Irland oder
Schottland gewesen sein.”

M. de Rémusat (S. Anselme de Cantorbéry, 177) had yet further lights;

“On suppose qu’une lettre adressée à Robert _son ami et son
fils très cher, et à ses sœurs et filles bien-aimées_, qui,
toutes, portent de bizarres noms, a pour objet d’encourager
et de guider une congrégation de femmes qui, sous la
direction de quelques missionnaires, essayait de se former
dans une province Galloise.”

There is really something very amusing in the difficulties of these scholars over a list of people one of whom bears the very commonest of English female names at the time. M. de Rémusat at least knew the earlier name of Queen Matilda, and can bring it in where it is not to be found in his authorities. For he makes the abbess in the story of Hermann of Tournay (see vol. ii. p. 32, and Appendix EE) enlarge on “la beauté de la jeune Edithe,” though in that story she bears no name at all. “Godit” too, that is “Godgyth” or “Godgifu,” is clear enough; and a little knowledge of English nomenclature will carry us through most of the others, even though some of them may be rare or unique. “Seit” must he “Sigegyth,” a perfectly possible name. “Virgit” would seem to be “Wergyth,” also quite possible, while “Luverim,” which the manuscripts write in two or three ways, is surely a wild miswriting of Leofrune, of a bearer of which name we have heard something in N. C. vol. i. p. 352. “Hydit” is the only name on the list about which there can be any real difficulty; it is clearly one of the _-gyth_ names, though it is not easy to see what the first half of the name is. It is perhaps a little odd when Anselm addresses Robert and his sisterhood as “filii” in the second letter, but the form is surely a lawful shortening of “filius et filiæ.” There is, one would think, a certain pleasing international unity in this picture of a company of Englishwomen, directed, it would seem, by a Norman priest, and so lovingly addressed by a Burgundian archbishop. Anyhow there is no need to doubt of the sex of Eadgyth and Godgyth, or to carry them off to Wales, Scotland, Ireland, or anywhere but the land of their own speech.

* * * * *

Anselm had other nuns and other devout women to write to and about, besides the bearers of these supposed puzzling names. There are several letters, as iii. 125, to a certain Abbess Eulalia. In iii. 70 he writes (in Henry the First’s time) to Athelis or Adeliza, Abbess of Wilton (it is again Wi_n_tonia in Migne’s text), comforting her during the banishment of William Giffard, bishop-elect of Winchester (see vol. ii. p. 349). More important is the letter (iii. 51) in which he sends the Archdeacon Stephen to hinder the abbess and nuns of Romsey from paying the worship of a saint to some person lately dead (“Tunc ex toto prohibeant ut nullus honor, qui alicui sancto exhiberi debet, exhibeatur ab illis, aut permittant ab aliquo exhiberi mortuo illi quem quidam volunt pro sancto haberi”). This reminds one of the story of Abbot Ulfcytel and the worship of Waltheof (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 598); but we need not suppose, with the old commentator in Migne, that the person worshipped was Waltheof himself. For it is added that the son of the dead man is to be driven out of the town, and Waltheof left no son. In iii. 84 he writes to Matilda, the first abbess of the house of the Trinity at Caen (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 630), about her intended resignation of her abbey. On other monastic affairs there are several letters, as iii. 61, 118, about the affairs of the abbey of Saint Eadmund, whose prior bears the English name of Ælfhere. He speaks of their tribulations and the patience with which they bore them; the letters therefore most likely refer to the difficulties which followed the appointment of Abbot Robert (see p. 359). There are two letters (iii. 100, 108) addressed to a monk Ordwine, in the latter of which he is coupled with two others, Farman――can he be the aged friend of Eadmer?――and Benjamin, which last name we should hardly have looked for. The first letter is a very important one; it deals with the subject of investitures, and distinctly shows that Anselm had no objection of his own to investiture by the King;

“Non ego prohibeo per me a rege dari investituras
ecclesiarum, sed quia audivi apostolicum in magno concilio
excommunicare laicos dantes illas investituras et
accipientes, et qui accipientes sacrabunt, nolo communicare
excommunicatis nec fieri excommunicatus.”

This letter contains also a good deal about the relations of laymen to churches as patrons or “custodes” (see p. 455, and N. C. vol. v. p. 501). In iii. 83, when already Archbishop, Anselm writes to Eustace, the father of Geoffrey a monk of Bec, at his son’s instance, rebuking him for a singular kind of bigamy. His wife, the mother of Geoffrey, had become a nun, and he himself had taken a vow; but had nevertheless married a second wife. Anselm argues that, whether he had taken a vow or not, still, though his wife had become a nun, it is unlawful for him to marry again during her lifetime. Of a more strictly domestic nature are the letters to his sister Richera or Richeza, and her husband Burgundius (iii. 63, 66, 67). Burgundius is meditating a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; and he exhorts him so to order his affairs before he goes that his wife may not lose her estate in case he dies by the way.

* * * * *

Anselm’s correspondence with royal and princely persons in various parts is very large. There are many letters to King Henry, in one of which (iii. 79) he cannot keep himself from the established pun on the name of Henry’s people. He prays, “Ut Deus vos et vestra sic regat et protegat in gloria temporalis regni super Anglos, quatenus in æterna felicitate regnare faciat inter angelos.”

He writes (iv. 81) a letter of rebuke to his old friend Earl Hugh, about the captivity of one monk of Clugny, and the irregular burial of another. He warns the Earl frankly; “Familiariter dico vobis, sicut homini cujus honorem et utilitatem multum amo, quia si non feceritis quod dico, inde blasphemabimini; et ego etiam si non fecero quod ecclesiastica disciplina præcipit inde fieri, a multis blasphemabor.” To his former enemy Count Robert of Meulan he writes a letter during his second exile which is given by Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 82), where the Count is addressed as “dominus et amicus;” in another (iv. 99) he is advanced to “dominus et amicus carissimus,” and is addressed as “vestra dilectio.” The subject of the letter is the endless dispute between York and Canterbury. The mention of the younger Thomas as archbishop-elect fixes the date to about 1108.

* * * * *

Among foreign kings and princes there is (iii. 65) a graceful letter to his native sovereign, Humbert Count and Marquess, written, it would seem, at the time of his first passing into Italy. Nearer to his Norman and English dwelling-places, we find him receiving during his exile a letter from King Philip (iv. 50) offering his sympathy and help, and praying for a visit in his dominions, chiefly for the sake of Anselm’s bodily health;

“Cæterum quia in loco corporeæ sanitati contrario exsulatis,
rogamus vos quatenus Galliam nostram vestro adventu visitare
dignemini, ibique affectum mentis meæ experiemini, et vestræ
consuletis sanitati. Valete.”

A letter to the same effect, which must belong to Anselm’s second exile, follows from Philip’s worthier successor, Lewis (iv. 51).

Both the famous chiefs of the Cenomannian state came in for a share of Anselm’s correspondence. In iv. 11 we have one letter of Anselm to Hildebert, but it contains no historical information. There are several (iii. 53, 160, 161, 162) from Hildebert to Anselm, all theological, and in which we could have wished that the Bishop of Le Mans could have brought himself to speak more civilly of the eastern half of Christendom. More interesting is a letter (iv. 98) addressed “Domino et amico, et in Deo dilectissimo Eliæ comiti,” full of praise and affection for the noble Count, and granting him absolution for some fault not described (“Absolutionem nostram, quam per eundem fratrem, sicut ipse mihi retulit, a me petitis, et corde, et ore, et scriptura dilectioni vestræ mitto, et quotidie pro vobis oro”).

To Countess Ida of Boulogne (see pp. 374, 384) he writes as an intimate friend (iii. 56, 58). In the former of these we hear of her chaplain Lambert, who was in England in her service. He seems to have been a canon of some chapter, and to have been in danger of losing part of the income of his prebend on account of his absence. To Countess Clemence of Flanders, wife of Count Robert of Jerusalem and niece of Pope Calixtus, he writes (iii. 59), praising her and her husband, because certain abbots in Flanders are admitted without the Count’s investiture;

“Relatum mihi est quosdam abbates in Flandria sic
constitutos ut comes vir vester nullam cis manu sua daret
investituram. Quod sicut non sine ejus prudenti _clementia_
ita non esse æstimo factum absque vestra _clementi_
prudentia.” The play on the Countess’s name reminds one of
King Robert and “O constantia martyrum.” In iv. 13 there is
a letter to Count Robert, to the same effect as that to his
wife.

But the care of Anselm extended to more distant, at least less known lands. He has two letters (iii. 142, 147) to King Murtagh in Ireland; but they deal only with the reforms needed in Murtagh’s own island. So, at a later time than ours, he writes (iii. 132) a letter to Alexander King of Scots, in which he mentions certain monks whom he had sent into Scotland at the request of the late King Eadgar, of whom he speaks most highly. When in a letter to a King of Scots we read that “quidem reges, sicut David, sancte vixerunt,” we are apt to forget that, in Alexander’s reign, the reference must still be to the King of Israel. Where such a reference would have been strictly to the merits of a predecessor, namely, in two letters to King Baldwin of Jerusalem (iv. 10, 36), it is not found; and the exhortations are very general.

* * * * *

Nor does Anselm forget the Scandinavian lands. He writes (iv. 92) a letter of good advice to Hakon Earl of Orkney, who had received the earldom of his father Paul after the death of Magnus of Norway. He writes about the religious ignorance of the people, which he hopes will be reformed by the bishop who had lately been sent to them. As Hakon only received his earldom in 1105, this letter must belong to the last years of Anselm’s life. The murder of Saint Magnus by Hakon, followed by the murderer’s repentant pilgrimage to Jerusalem, did not happen till after Anselm’s death (see Torfæi Orcades, p. 86, where the date of Magnus’s murder is fixed to 1110). He has two letters (iii. 143, iv. 90) about the newly-founded archbishopric of Lund in Denmark. At another end of Christendom he writes to Diacus, Bishop of Saint James of Compostella. The Spanish Bishop asks for English help against the Saracens, and he answers that England is so beset by wars at home that he fears that no help can be given.

To the Popes Urban and Paschal he naturally writes some very important letters, some of which have been already referred to. There is one (iii. 37) to Urban, in which he sets forth his strong desire to come to Rome, and alleges the wars which were raging everywhere as the cause of the King’s unwillingness to let him go.

“Quia bellis undique quatimur, hostiles impetus indesinenter et insidias adversantium metuimus, dominus noster rex extra regnum me procedere hactenus non permisit, nec adhuc procedere posse ullatenus assensit…. Sed inter hæc, quo labore, quaque anxietate gravatus, iter arripere conarer, si omnipotens Deus et in regno Anglorum bella sedaret, et in regnis et regnorum provinciis, per quas ad vos est eundum, illam pacem tribueret, quemadmodum oporteret et expediret iter ipsum explere liceret.”

This letter one would have been inclined to place in 1097; but, unless we can understand the “regnum Anglorum” as taking in Wales, the mention of wars would seem to fix it to the time of the rebellion of Robert of Mowbray in 1095, when the war did indeed affect Anselm’s movements. In the same letter he makes intercession for Fulk Bishop of Beauvais, one of the prelates to whom he had written at the time of his own appointment to the archbishopric (see iii. 11, and above, p. 576), on account of some matter which is not explained.

To Paschal he writes a most important letter (iii. 40) at some time during the short interval between Paschal’s election and William’s death; here he sets forth his own case very distinctly;

“Videbam in Anglia multa mala quorum ad me pertinebat
correctio, quæ nec corrigere nec sine peccato meo tolerare
poteram. Exigebat enim a me rex ut voluntatibus suis, quæ
contra legem et voluntatem Dei erant, sub nomine
_rectitudinis_ assensum præberem. Nam sine sua jussione
apostolicum nolebat recipi aut appellari in Anglia, nec ut
epistolam ei mitterem aut ab eo missam reciperem, vel
decretis ejus obedirem. Concilium non permisit celebrari in
regno suo ex quo rex factus jam per tredecim annos. Terras
ecclesiæ hominibus suis dabat; in omnibus his et similibus
si consilium petebam, omnes de regno ejus etiam suffraganei
mei episcopi negabant se consilium daturos nisi secundum
voluntatem regis.”

Here we have Anselm’s grievances very clearly set forth, and without any kind of exaggeration or strong language of any kind. We may also mark the legal term “rectitudo.” He next goes on to describe the council of Winchester;

“Hæc et multa alia, quæ contra voluntatem et legem Dei sunt,
videns, petii licentiam ab eo sedem adeundi apostolicam, ut
inde consilium de anima mea et de officio mihi injuncto
acciperem. Respondit rex me in se peccasse pro sola
postulatione hujus licentiæ, et proposuit mihi ut aut de hac
re, sicut de culpa, satisfacerem, et securum illum redderem
ne amplius peterem hanc licentiam, nec aliquando apostolicum
appellarem, aut de terra ejus cito exirem.”

He then describes the dealings of the King with the estates of the see after he was gone, and speaks of the dealings of Urban with the King, in the style in which it was perhaps becoming to speak to a Pope of the dealings of his predecessor;

“Rex, mox ut de Anglia exivi, taxato simpliciter victu et
vestitu monachorum nostrorum, totum archiepiscopatum invasit
et in proprios usus convertit. Monitus et rogatus a domino
papa ut hoc corrigeret contempsit, et adhuc in hoc
perseverat.”

He then asks the Pope that he may not be commanded to return to England, “nisi ita ut legem et voluntatem Dei et decreta apostolica voluntati hominis liceat mihi præferre: et nisi rex mihi terras ecclesiæ reddiderit, et quidquid de archiepiscopatu propter hoc quia sedem apostolicam petii, accepit.”

Presently a wholly new set of questions was opened by the accession of Henry and the second controversy. Anselm’s account, it will be seen, strictly agrees with the narrative of Eadmer, and we may again mark that he does not speak of lay investitures as a grievance. That is to say, William Rufus had not been to blame, or at least Anselm had not found out that he was to blame, for continuing the ancient custom of his kingdom. Henry was to blame because he claimed to continue that right in the teeth of the new decrees, and of the new lights which Anselm had learned from them.

NOTE Z. Vol. i. p. 395.

ROBERT BLOET.

There is something startling in the simple way in which the Chronicler (1093) puts together the appointment of Anselm and that of Robert Bloet; “And þæt arcebiscoprice on Cantwarbyrig, þe ær on his agenre hand stód, Anselme betæhte, se wæs ær abbot on Bǽc, and Rodbeard his cancelere þæt biscoprice on Lincolne.” Florence translates, with a word or two of explanation inserted; “Insuper Anselmo Beccensi abbati qui tunc _in Anglia morabatur_, Dorubernensem archiepiscopatum, et cancellario suo Rotberto, _cognomento Bloet_, Lindicolinensem dedit præsulatum.” But this way of speaking is quite of a piece with the small amount of notice which the Chronicler seems throughout to give to Anselm and his affairs. That is, we are used to read the story of Anselm in Eadmer in the minutest detail, and we are surprised to find his story told in the Chronicle only on the same scale as the stories of other people.

We have heard of Robert Bloet before, as one high in the confidence of both Williams, father and son (see vol. i. p. 13). As a bishop, he is one of those persons of whom William of Malmesbury wrote an account which he afterwards found it expedient to alter. In his received text (Gest. Pont. 313) he is brought in in a singular and sneering way. The writer had just recorded the death of Remigius before he was able to consecrate the minster, and he then gives this account of his successor;

“Rem dilatam successor ejus non graviter explevit, utpote
qui in labores alterius delicatus intrasset; Rotberto Bloet
homini nomen. Vixit in episcopatu annis paulo minus xxxᵗᵃ,
decessitque procul a sede apud Wdestoche, cum regio lateri
cum alio quodam episcopo adequitaret, subito fato
interceptus. Cetera satis suis hilaris et parum gravis,
negotiorum scientia secularium nulli secundus,
ecclesiasticorum non ita. Ecclesiam cui sedit ornamentis
pretiossissimis decoravit. Defuncti corpus exinteratum, ne
tetris nidoribus vitiaret aerem. Viscera Egnesham, reliqua
Lindocolinæ sepulta sunt. Monachos enim qui apud Stou
fuerunt vivens Eglesham [Egnesham] migraverat.”

Here we have the implied picture of a bishop of the more worldly sort, and we can see that he was not in good favour with monks. But no particular fault is brought against him. But in the earlier version, the text, after the words “homini nomen,” reads, “Qui nihil unquam pensi fecerit, quominus omnis libidinis et infamis et reus esset. In cunctam religionem protervus, monachos Stou summoveri et apud Egnesham locari jussit. Gratis malus et gloriæ antecessoris invidus, a vicinis monachis sua commoda præverti causabatur. Quocirca, si monachi Egneshamnenses Dei dono pulchrum incrementum acceperint, procul illi gratias, quibus eximium se gloriabatur commodum inferre si vel illos sineret vivere.”

There is enough here to show that Robert Bloet was thoroughly disliked by the monks everywhere on account of his dealings with their brethren at Stow in removing them to Eynsham. His dislike to monks is also witnessed by the Chronicler, 1123, in recording the election of William of Corbeuil to the see of Canterbury (see N. C. vol. v. p. 236); “Ðis wæs eall ear gedon ðurh se biscop of Seresbyrig, and þurh se biscop of Lincolne, ær he wære dead, forði þet næfre ne luueden hi munece regol, ac wæron æfre togænes muneces and here regol.”

On the other hand, Robert Bloet has not been without his admirers and defenders both in his own time and since. Henry of Huntingdon, who was brought up in his court, always speaks of him with the deepest affection; and in our time he has found a gallant champion in Mr. Dimock in his preface to the seventh volume of Giraldus, pp. xxiii. et seq. Henry, like Florence, has the Chronicle before him in recording the appointments of Anselm and Robert, and he too makes (vii. 3. p. 216) his insertions. With him the passage stands thus;

“Dedit [junior Willelmus] archiepiscopatum Cantuariæ Anselmo
abbati, viro sancto et venerabili. Roberto quoque cognomento
Bloet cancellario suo, dedit episcopatum Lincoliæ, quo non
erat alter forma venustior, mente serenior, affatu dulcior.”

Further on he records his death in 1123 (p. 244), and gives him a splendid epitaph. He is “pontificum Robertus honor,” and his special virtues fill two elegiac couplets;

“Hic humilis dives, (res mira,) potens pius, ultor
Compatiens, mitis cum pateretur erat.
Noluit esse suis dominus, studuit pater esse,
Semper in adversis murus et arma suis.”

He speaks of him again in the letter “de Contemptu Mundi” (p. 299), where he gives a glowing description of the splendour of his court, and speaks of him as “ipse quasi pater et deus omnium æstimatus,” and as “justitiarius totius Angliæ et ab omnibus summe formidatus.” He then goes on to quote him as an example, like so many others, of the uncertainty of earthly prosperity. He tells how he was troubled before his death by law-suits brought by some inferior justiciar, and then records his death at Woodstock. He adds, “Fuit autem Robertus præsul mitis et humilis, multos erigens, nullum deprimens, pater orphanorum, deliciæ suorum.” Further on (p. 305) we learn that Robert Bloet had a son named Simon, who was born before he was Bishop, but whom he made Dean of Lincoln while he was very young. Simon’s prosperity and unhappy end are also among the instances which are to lead to “contemptus mundi.” He is thus brought in;

“Decanum nostrum Simonem non prætereo, qui filius Roberti
præsulis nostri fuit; quem genuerat dum cancellarius
Willelmi magni regis esset. Qui, ut decebat, regaliter
nutritus, et adhuc impubis decanus noster effectus, in
summam regis amicitiam et curiales dignitates mox provectus
est.”

We may be sure that it was the existence of this son which caused Bishop Robert to be reproached with looseness of life. Yet Simon may very likely have been born in lawful wedlock, though it is hardly safe to assume with Mr. Dimock that he certainly was. But, when Robert had once become an object of monastic dislike, stories grew as usual; it was found out that his tomb in Lincoln minster was haunted. So says the so-called Bromton (X Scriptt. 988), who is copied by Knighton (2364);

“Episcopatum Lincolniensem, per mortem sancti Remigii
vacantem, Roberto cognomento Bloet cancellario suo, viro
quidem libidinoso, dedit, qui prædictam ecclesiæ
dedicationem Lincolniensis postea segniter explevit. Hic
demum apud Wodestoke a latere regis recedens obiit et
exenteratus est, cujus viscera apud monasterium de Eynesham
quod ipse fundaverit, cetera apud Lincolniam sunt humata,
ubi satis constabat loci custodes nocturnis umbris esse
agitatos, quousque ille locus missis et eleemosynis
piaretur.”

The reputation which Bishop Robert left behind him at Lincoln we learn from Giraldus and John of Schalby in the seventh volume of Dimock’s Giraldus. Giraldus himself (p. 31) brings him in as “prudentia et probitate conspicuus.” He records his gifts to his church, and his doubling the number of its prebends. From a Lincoln point of view, he highly approves of the translation of the monks of Stow to Eynsham; but he seems not to like the separation of Ely from the diocese of Lincoln (see N. C. vol. v. p. 229), and he speaks of Robert’s “inconsiderata largitio” and “alia sui deliramenta” in charging his see with the gift of a mantle of sable, worth a hundred pounds, to the King. John of Schalby (195) copies Giraldus, but abridges him, and leaves out some of his epithets both of praise and blame.

* * * * *

The death of Bishop Robert in 1123 is recorded by several of our writers, but there is no account so graphic as that in our own tongue. The King is riding in his deerfold at Woodstock with the two bishops, Robert of Lincoln and Roger of Salisbury, on either side of him. The three ride and talk. The Bishop of Lincoln suddenly sinks, and says to the King, “Lord King, I die (Laferd kyng, ic swelte).” The King gets down from his horse, lifts him in his arms, and has him carried into the house, where he soon dies (“Se king alihte dune of his hors, and alehte hine betweox his earmes, and let hine beran ham to his inne, and wearð þa sone dead”). Does this “inne” mean the King’s own house at Woodstock, or any separate quarters of the Bishop, like the “hospitium” of Anselm at Gloucester and elsewhere?

* * * * *

There is something odd in the Bishop’s last words being given in English. The King knew that tongue, and the Bishop may very likely have done so; but we can hardly fancy that they spoke it to one another.

The name “Bloet,” according to M. de Rémusat (Anselme, 160), is the same as “blond.”

NOTE AA. Vol. i. p. 553.

THE MISSION OF ABBOT GERONTO.

I am not aware that this mission of the Abbot of Dijon has hitherto found any place in any narrative history of the times of William Rufus. And I confess that it is not without a certain misgiving that I bring it in. It is certainly remarkable that our own writers should with one consent pass by an event of this kind; but it would be yet more amazing if it were sheer mistake or invention on the part of the foreign writer who records it. It is one of those cases in which, without any actual contradiction, it is very hard to bring a certain statement into its right place. There is nothing in the story told by Hugh of Flavigny which is really inconsistent with the narrative of Eadmer; our only difficulty is how it came that, if these things happened, Eadmer, who could not fail to have known of them, did not think them worthy of any place in his very minute narrative. This difficulty we must get over how we can. Otherwise the evidence of Hugh of Flavigny is in a certain sense as good as that of Eadmer himself. He stood to Abbot Geronto in much the same relation in which Eadmer stood to Anselm. In his narrative, Geronto is sent by the Pope on a mission to Normandy and England, and Hugh himself, a monk of Geronto’s monastery, comes with him. For the mere facts therefore of Geronto’s mission Hugh is as good a witness as Eadmer; but, as a foreigner on a short visit, he could not be expected to have the same thorough knowledge of English affairs as Eadmer, or any other English, or even Norman, writer. There is to us at least something very strange in his tone towards Anselm, or rather in the lack of any mention of Anselm at all. He never speaks of him by name, and the only fact which he records of him is the very strange one which I have mentioned in p. 535, that at some time, seemingly at the reception of the pallium, Anselm took an oath to the Pope, with a reservation of his duty to the King. One hardly sees how far he means to blame Anselm. The person chiefly blamed is Cardinal Walter; Anselm comes in, in a strange casual way, between the King and the Cardinal.

I have given the whole or nearly the whole of Hugh’s story in the foot-notes to those parts of the text which are founded upon his account. He goes on a little later in his story (Pertz, viii. 495, 496) to record the death of William Rufus, and to say something more about English affairs in general. It is plain that his friends in England found him perfectly ready to believe the wildest tales that they chose to tell him. At the same time, the tales that they did tell him are such as could hardly have come into any man’s head to tell, except in the reign of William Rufus. It is Hugh of Flavigny who tells us those specially amazing stories to which I have referred in vol. i. p. 544 and p. 503. He has also (496) some odd notices of the dogs of the city of London, which were small, but very fierce, and which gathered together by night in front of Saint Paul’s church, so that no one could dare to pass by. He has also a good deal to say about those natural phænomena of the reign of which we have heard a good deal from other writers. He tells the story of the storm which visited the church of Saint Mary-le-bow, with some further embellishment, that “quadros super muri altitudinem sitos, supra quos tectum stabilitum erat, usque ad septem milliaria evolare fecit.” And while two servants of the church were sleeping in one bed, a beam was driven down between them into the earth without doing them any harm, except nearly frightening them to death; “In eadem etiam ecclesia jacebat quidem ædituus cum alio quodam in lecto uno, et inter medium eorum, cum jacerent distante inter se spacio, una trabium vento acta per medium lecti terram intravit, ut vix summitas ejus appareret, nec læsit jacentes, nisi quod timore pene exanimati sunt.”

Hugh’s Chronicle, in two books, reaches from the Christian æra to the year 1102. He was born at Verdun in 1065. He was a monk, first at Verdun, then at Flavigny in the diocese of Toul, then at Dijon, and lastly Abbot of Flavigny. Jarento or Geronto――I hardly know how to spell his name――was in the close confidence of Gregory the Seventh and his successors. There is a letter of Anselm’s (iii. 87) addressed to Geronto; but it contains nothing bearing on his mission to England. It is all concerned with the affairs of certain monks at Dijon and Chartres.

NOTE BB. Vol. ii. p. 9.

THE EMBASSIES BETWEEN WILLIAM RUFUS AND MALCOLM IN 1093.

The fullest and clearest narrative of the transactions between William Rufus and Malcolm which led to their rupture at Gloucester in 1093 comes from the Chronicle, while some particular points are given at greater length by Florence. In the Chronicle the story runs thus;

“Ða æfter þisson sende [se] cyng of Scotlande and þære
forewarde gyrnde þe him behaten wæs, and se cing W. him
steofnode to Gloweceastre and him to Scotlande gislas sende,
and Eadgar æþeling æfter, and þa men syððan ongean, þe hine
mid mycclon wurðscipe to þam cynge brohtan. As þa þa he to
þam cynge com, ne mihte he beon weorðe naðer ne ure cynges
spæce ne þæra forewarde þe him ær behatene wæron, and forði
hi þa mid mycclon unsehte tohwurfon.”

Here we have very clearly an embassy of complaint sent by Malcolm to William――an invitation or summons, whichever it is to be called, to the Gemót at Gloucester sent by William to Malcolm and accompanied by hostages for his safety――a second embassy from William to Malcolm, with Eadgar at its head, in whose company Malcolm’s ambassadors went back to Scotland and Malcolm himself came to England. All this is cut short by Florence, who however distinctly affirms the going to and fro of some embassies, while it is from him that we get the date and a fuller account of what happened at Gloucester. His narrative stands thus;

“Rex Scottorum Malcolmus, die festivitatis S. Bartholomæi
Apostoli [24 Aug.], regi Willelmo juniori, ut prius per
legatos inter eos statutum fuerat, in civitate Glaworna
occurrit, ut, sicut quidam primatum Angliæ voluerunt, pace
redintegrata, stabilis inter eos amicitia firmaretur; sed
impacati ab invicem discesserunt; nam Malcolmum videre aut
cum eo colloqui, præ nimia superbia et potentia, Willelmum
despexit.”

_Colloqui_ is the technical word which we so often come across. The meeting of the two kings would have been a _colloquium_ or _parliament_. It is from Florence again that we get all the technical law. His account goes on thus;

“Insuper etiam illum [Malcolmum] ut secundum judicium tantum suorum [Willelmi] baronum, in curia sua rectitudinem ei faceret, constringere voluit; sed id agere, nisi in regnorum suorum confiniis, ubi reges Scottorum erant soliti rectitudinem facere regibus Anglorum, et secundum judicium primatum utriusque regni, nullo modo Malcolmus voluit.”

William of Malmesbury (iv. 311) loses the fact of the embassies and the summons in a cloud of words;

“Multis controversiis utrobique habitis, et fluctuante
propter utrorumque animositatem justitia, Malcolmus ultro
Gloecestram venit, æquis duntaxat conditionibus, multus pro
pace precator.”

With regard to more modern discussions, I do not know that I can do more than give the reader the same references which I gave in N. C. vol. v. p. 120. But Mr. Robertson (i. 144 note) certainly has reason when he says that “it does not follow that Malcolm spoke feudal Latin because Florence wrote it.” One would be glad to have the actual words in French, English, or, more precious than all, Irish. (This sets one thinking what languages Malcolm may have spoken. We know that he understood English, whether he learned it at the court of Eadward, or afterwards from his wife. In one or other of those schools he would most likely also pick up French. Margaret herself may also have learned High Dutch, and possibly Magyar, from her parents.) But I can make nothing of Mr. Robertson’s strange comment that “it is singular to mark how nearly all the English authorities accuse Malcolm of ‘a breach of faith’ because he resented the conduct of William, whilst they pass over without notice the glaring ‘breach of faith’ on the part of their own king.” Who charges Malcolm with any breach of faith, except William of Malmesbury in the almost casual passage, iii. 250? And what more could he wish the Chronicler and Florence to say against William Rufus than what they do say? Mr. Robertson’s criticism is more to the purpose when he attacks the words of William of Malmesbury, iv. 311; “Nec quicquam obtinuit, nisi ut in regnum indemnis rediret, dedignante rege dolo capere quem virtute subegisset.” He remarks that “the safe-conduct and the hostages detract something from this much vaunted magnanimity, but Malmesbury would sacrifice a good deal for the sake of a well-turned period.” It is certainly hard to see what William had done to Malcolm which could be called “virtute subegisse;” but Mr. Robertson fails to notice that this particular scruple is characteristic of William Rufus. Careless of his faith in so many other cases, he is always careful to observe a safe-conduct.

NOTE CC. Vol. ii. p. 16.

THE DEATH OF MALCOLM.

The last invasion of England by Malcolm was clearly made in reprisal for the treatment which he had received at Gloucester. The words of the Peterborough Chronicler are very remarkable. They seem to describe a war which is acknowledged to be just in itself, but which is carried on with needless cruelty;

“And se cyng Melcolm ham to Scotlande gewænde. Ac hraðe þaes
þe he ham com he his fyrde gegaderode.”

Most of the other writers fail to bring out the connexion both of time and of cause and effect between the scene at Gloucester and the invasion which led to Malcolm’s death at Alnwick. Perhaps we may count Matthew Paris, the zealous panegyrist of Malcolm, as an exception. He has nothing to tell us about Malcolm’s coming to Gloucester; but, having mentioned William’s sickness there, which he wrongly places in 1092, he goes on (i. 43);

“Eodem anno pius rex Scotorum Malcolmus, cujus actus in
benedictione vivunt immortales, cum non immerito contra
tirannum Willelmum II. regem sibi injuriantem guerram
movisset, interceptus est subito et, positis insidiis,
interemptus.”

So in a later passage (i. 47) he speaks of Robert of Mowbray overcoming Malcolm “proditiose.” Moreover several even of the English writers seem to imply that there was something treacherous about the way in which Malcolm met his death. The words of the Chronicler are, “hine þa Rodbeard se eorl of Norðhymbran mid his mannan unwæres besyrede and ofsloh.” And directly after he describes the grief of Margaret on hearing “hyre þa leofstan hlaford and sunu þus _beswikene_.” William of Malmesbury mentions the death of Malcolm twice, and in rather different tones. The first time (iii. 250) he seems to jumble up together Malcolm’s two invasions, leaving out all about the meeting at Gloucester. He had said that through the whole reign of the Conqueror Malcolm “incertis et sæpe fractis fœderibus ævum egit,” and adds;

“Filio Willelmi Willelmo regnante, simili modo impetitus,
falso sacramento insequentem abegit. Nec multo post, dum
fidei immemor superbius provinciam inequitaret, a Roberto de
Molbreia comite Northanhimbriæ, cum filio cæsus est.”

In the second place (iv. 311), after describing the meeting at Gloucester, he adds; “Idem proxima hyeme, ab hominibus Roberti comitis Humbrensium, magis fraude quam viribus occubuit.” No one would think from this that Malcolm had gone back to Scotland, got together his army, and invaded Northumberland. It would rather suggest the idea that he was attacked on his way back from Gloucester. And this comes out more strongly in the very confused account of Orderic, 701 C. He mixes up the events of 1091 and 1093. After the first conference by the Scots’ water, the two kings go quietly together into England; then we read;

“Post aliquod tempus, dum Melcoma rex ad sua vellet remeare,
muneribusque multis honoratus a rege rediret pacifice, prope
fines suos Rodbertus de Molbraio, cum Morello nepote suo et
militibus armatis occurrit, et ex insperato inermem
interfecit. Quod audiens rex Anglorum, regnique optimates,
valde contristati sunt, et pro tam fœda re, tamque crudeli,
a Normannis commissa, nimis erubuerunt. Priscum facinus a
modernis iteratum est. Nam sicut Abner, filius Ner, a Joab
et Abisai, de domo David pacifice rediens, dolose peremptus
est, sic Melcoma rex, de curia Guillelmi regis cum pace
remeans, a Molbraianis trucidatus est.”

This is one of those sayings of Orderic by which we are now and then fairly puzzled. He gets hold of a scriptural or classical parallel, and seems to be altogether carried away by it. It is hard to see the likeness between the cases of Malcolm and Abner; but it is harder to see why the deed is in a marked way attributed to “Normanni,” who seem to be distinguished from the “rex Anglorum regnique optimates.” In what sense were Morel and Robert of Mowbray Norman, in which the King and the great mass of the “optimates” were not Norman just as much?

Confused as these two last accounts are, they still suggest that there was something about the way in which Robert and Morel contrived the death of Malcolm which William Rufus would have looked on as not quite consistent with the character of a “probus miles.” The one word “beswikene” in the Chronicle doubtless goes for more than any amount of Latin rhetoric, though its force is a little weakened by its not occurring in the actual narrative of Malcolm’s death, but in the account of Margaret’s grief at hearing of it, at which point most of our writers put on more or less of the tone of hagiology. But the only writer who gives us any details is Fordun (v. 20), in a passage which professes to come from Turgot, on which see the remarks of Mr. Hinde in his Simeon, p. 261. In his story we read how Malcolm,

“Cum maximam prædam ex Anglia, more solito, ultra flumen
These, de Clefeland, Richemond, et alibi sæpius adduceret,
castrumque de Aylnwick, sive Murealden, quod idem est,
obsideret, obsessosque sibi rebellantes oppido affligeret,
hi, qui inclusi fuerant, ab omni humano excludebantur
auxilio.”

The besieged, having no other chance, take to treachery. One man offers himself to go on the desperate venture; he makes his way to the Scottish camp, and asks for the King;

“Quærentibus causam inquisitionis dixit, se castrum regi
traditurum, et in argumentum fidei claves ejusdem in hasta
sua coram omnibus portavit oblaturus. Quo audito rex, doli
nescius, incaute a tentorio inermis exiliens et minus
provide, occurrit proditori; at ille, quæsita opportunitate,
inermem regem armatus transfixit, et, latibula silvæ vicinæ
festinanter ingressus, eorum manus evasit.”

Then follows the death of the King’s son Eadward;

“Turbato igitur exercitu, dolor dolorem accumulat: nam
Eadwardus regis primogenitus a Northumbris lethaliter
vulneratur.”

He dies three days later “apud Eardwardisle foresta de Jedwood,” and was buried at Dunfermline “juxta patrem.”

It is really impossible that this can be a genuine bit of Turgot. There is nothing anywhere else about a siege of Alnwick, and Mr. Hinde pertinently raises the question whether there was anything at Alnwick to besiege. At any rate, it is strange that the defenders of Alnwick, or anybody else whom Malcolm might come across in Northumberland, should be called “rebellantes” against him. There is a very mythical sound about the alleged form of Malcolm’s death. In the Tapestry (see N. C. vol. iii. p. 240) keys are handed to a victorious besieger on the point of a spear; but it is from the walls of the besieged place, and they are received in the like sort. They surely would not be presented in this way in the King’s own camp. And, if Malcolm was killed in this way, how came Eadward to be mortally wounded? Mr. Hinde adds;

“The ridiculous tale of the person who pierced the king’s
eye, receiving from that exploit the designation of ‘Piercy,
quod Anglice sonat perforare oculum,’ is interpolated in
some MSS. of Fordun. This story must necessarily have been
invented after the Percy family became the possessors of
Alnwick, and so gave point, if not probability, to the
fiction.”

* * * * *

I suspect that Malcolm was killed in some ambush or in some other way unlike open battle. Then sympathy for Margaret called up――except at Durham and other parts more nearly concerned――sympathy for Malcolm. Then the Chronicler, in this state of mind, used the harsh word “beswikene,” and so a tale of actual treachery grew up. The version in Fordun gives us the story in the form of a detailed legend; in Orderic the tale itself is still vague; but the events which went before are so altered as to make any attack on Malcolm treacherous. In that version, he is going home from the King’s court in the King’s peace. In the true version, he is invading England, perhaps on just grounds in his own eyes, certainly on grounds which made his invasion by no means wonderful. Still resistance to him was a rightful operation of war, unless there was any actual treachery in the form which the attack took. That such there was we have no direct evidence; but there must have been something or other to account for the tone of so many writers. Florence is colourless; so is Henry of Huntingdon.

* * * * *

The Hyde writer, as usual, takes a line of his own. He speaks (301) of “quidam Robertus Northamhumbrorum comes, vir dives et potens, qui regem Scotorum Malcolmum, patrem Matildis reginæ, bellando cum toto pene exercitu interfecit.” It is not unlikely that the fact that Malcolm was not only the husband of the sainted Margaret, but also the father of the popular Queen Eadgyth-Matilda, won for him a measure of sympathy after his death which he had not enjoyed while he was alive. Indeed we get this relation distinctly set forth by the Continuator of William of Jumièges (viii. 8), who after recording the life-long imprisonment of Robert of Mowbray, adds, “Dictum est a pluribus, hanc talionem sibi redditam fuisse, quia regem Scotiæ, patrem videlicet nobilissimæ Mathildis postea reginæ Anglorum, dolose peremerat.”

* * * * *

Alnwick, as the place of Malcolm’s death, and of the capture of another Scottish king in the next century, awakens a certain amount of real interest beyond the range of mere legend and misapplied sentiment. The late Mr. Hartshorne wrote with a strange feeling of devotion towards anything that did profess and call itself Percy; but he gives us the facts. All that need be known about Alnwick will be found in his papers in the Archæological Institute’s second Newcastle volume, p. 143. Robert of Veci appears in Domesday in several shires as far north as Lincoln, but of course we cannot track him in the unsurveyed parts of Northumberland. Of the original Percy we have heard something in various parts in N. C. vol. iv. pp. 215, 295, 789; vol. v. p. 773. The second set of Percies, those of Louvain, got to Alnwick by a grant from Bishop Antony Beck in 1309 (Hartshorne, ii. 150, 152). Very little can be made of the Alnwick Chronicle printed in Mr. Hartshorne’s Appendix. What can we say to a “William Tisonne” who dies on the English side at Senlac, and who is the brother of Richard Tisone who founds chapels in the year 1000, as his father “Gisbright” founded abbeys before him? In this story the first Norman lord of Alnwick is Ivo of Veci, who is described as “miles de secretariis,” whatever that may mean, to the Conqueror, and he gets Alnwick along with the daughter of the slain William Tisonne. Alnwick may quite possibly have passed to a Norman lord by marriage with an English heiress, but assuredly her father was not called William and did not bear an hereditary surname, and it is much to his credit if, in the teeth of his Earl, he found his way to the great battle from a point so far north as Alnwick.

NOTE DD. Vol. ii. p. 28.

THE BURIAL OF MARGARET.

I do not wish to commit myself to any view as to the authorship of the writings attributed to Turgot. It is sometimes, as I have more than once remarked, hard to believe that the passages which are worked into the text of Fordun, and which are printed at the end of the Surtees Simeon as Turgot’s writing, can really come from a contemporary writer. Still, whether Turgot’s or not, they contain fragments of real information for which, in the great meagreness of our notices of Scottish matters, we may well be thankful. In this case, it is from one of these passages that we learn for certain, what we might for ourselves have been inclined to guess, that Margaret, so deeply reverenced in England then and in Scotland in later times, was not popular in Scotland in her own day. Of her death, as we have seen, we have several accounts, the fullest and most trustworthy being in her own Life by Turgot. Again, we have several notices, though somewhat meagre ones, of the national Scottish movement which placed Donald on the throne. But it is only from one of these other bits of Turgot (if it be Turgot) that we could find out that the two things had anything to do with one another, and that the first thing which the national party did was to attempt to disturb the burial of the holy Queen. There is nothing of this in the Life, a fact which may possibly mark the difference between Turgot writing hagiography, though I believe truthful hagiography, and the same Turgot writing ordinary history. In the former character, he does not invent or pervert; he simply leaves out an unpleasant fact which in the other and humbler character he records.

The account of Margaret’s burial in the Life (Surtees Simeon, p. 254) stands thus;

“Corpus ipsius honorabiliter, ut reginam decebat, involutum,
ad Sanctæ Trinitatis, quam ipsa construxerat, ecclesiam
deportavimus, ibique, sicut ipsa jusserat, contra altare et
sanctæ crucis (quod ibidem erexerat) venerabile signum,
sepulturæ tradidimus.”