Here begins the prologue to William’s book On the Deeds of the English Bishops. #

¹ The chief seat of the bishops, after the conversion of the English to Christianity, was established at Canterbury and remains there. That city is in England, neither very large nor excessively small; and by the situation of its land, being favoured by its soil, by its very great fertility, and by the complete circuit of its walls, though it has many times experienced the fortunes of war, it sustains its citizens. It is rich in the ashes of many saints and glorious in their patronage. It lacks neither the watering of a river nor the convenience of woods; moreover, being twelve miles from the sea, it abounds in fish. The people, both townsmen and country folk, breathe more than the other English a consciousness of their ancient nobility, and are readier to show honour and hospitality to anyone, and fiercer in repelling injuries. There is the chief archiepiscopal seat, whose holder is the primate and patriarch of all England. But where the archbishopric was in the time of the Britons is uncertain, because antiquity has consumed the memory of our age. It has occurred to me to relate whatever has come to my knowledge concerning the archbishops of this city and its suffragans. Nor do I think it unreasonable that, having once briefly recounted the deeds of the kings of the English, I should now run through the names of the bishops of the English, so that at last, with the Lord’s help, I may complete the task long ago promised. When I have done this, I shall seem to myself to have completed a work attempted by no one before me, relying not on my own ability but drawn on by zeal for knowledge worthy of being known. For what could be sweeter than to recall the favour of our forebears, so that you may know the deeds of those from whom you have received both the first principles of the faith and encouragements to live well? It would certainly be sheer sloth and disgrace not to know even the names of the chief men of our own province, when our knowledge extends elsewhere as far as the regions of India, and to anything that may lie beyond, exposed to the boundless ocean. Moved by these reasons, both here and elsewhere I have drawn my pen through the most obscure histories, although here I do not possess the same abundance of knowledge as in the Deeds of the Kings. For there, borrowing something from the chronicles that lay before me, I was guided as though by a shining torch from a lofty watchtower, by which I might direct my steps without error. Here, however, deprived of almost every assistance, I grope through the thick darkness of ignorance, and no lamp of history goes before me to direct my path. Yet, as I hope, the light of minds will be present, so that the truth may remain whole and unwavering and the intended brevity may be preserved. Whoever does not neglect these two things will be neither foolish nor tiresome. Accordingly, I shall preserve the order of narration proposed in my other volumes, so that, just as in the first book of the Deeds of the Kings I distinguished the order of the kingdoms, so here through the several volumes I shall distinguish the bishoprics of the provinces. If anything falls short of what has been promised, the reader who sees that it has been done for good reason will grant pardon. This first book, then, will contain the Deeds of the Archbishops of Canterbury and of the Bishops of Rochester, among whom the kingdom first grew in strength. All the others will follow in their proper order.

Here Ends the Prologue. #

Here Begins the First Book. #

Book One: Of the Archbishops. #

¹ Augustine, the disciple of Gregory the Great, was the first to occupy the see of Canterbury, as is commonly known. Gregory himself granted Augustine the pallium and the privilege of the archbishopric at London, as we showed in the first book of the Deeds of the Kings by means of Kenulf’s letter; evidently because at that time knowledge of any other, more obscure city had not reached the Romans. Nevertheless, because that first teacher, won over by the attentiveness of the king who had received him and by the affection of the citizens, made Canterbury his home, occupying its throne for sixteen years while alive and its tomb when dead, all honour thereafter was transferred there. How highly his merits are esteemed before God is proclaimed by glorious signs, which God does not disdain still to impress upon so many succeeding ages, not allowing his Kent, indeed all England, to grow sluggish in the veneration of Augustine. Laurence succeeded him for five years. Bede, in narrating his virtues and those of the others, touches briefly upon everything, evidently fearing to cause weariness. Their virtues, therefore, so far as he was able to learn them from the accounts of the ancients, were written down by a certain Goscelin, of whom I have spoken elsewhere;¹ and he added remarkable and altogether praiseworthy new miracles which he had witnessed with his own eyes. Their names are these. Mellitus, likewise for five years. Justus, for three. Honorius, for twenty-six. Deusdedit, for ten. Theodore, for twenty-two. Bede records that he was sent by the Apostolic See, and that he was the first of all the bishops of Canterbury to exercise episcopal authority throughout the whole of Britain. Indeed, both on this side of the Humber and beyond it, he removed some bishops and appointed others according to his pleasure. At York itself he consecrated bishops of other cities and, as is read in the Life of blessed Wilfrid, expelled the bishops of that same city, Cedd and Wilfrid himself, whether by lawful judgement or by force. Here human wretchedness may be both seen and lamented: however great a person’s holiness may be, he does not entirely cast off stubborn habits, so that those two eyes of Britain carried on disputes with one another. For Theodore, so far as our judgement can determine, unjustly expelled Wilfrid; and Wilfrid, after being tossed about by many dangers, brought his complaint before Agatho, the Roman pope. He did so with proper restraint, so that he neither pressed accusations against one who had been sent by the Apostolic See nor allowed his own innocence to remain in uncertainty. These are his words in the petition which he presented to the pope: “As for what happened, namely that the most holy Archbishop Theodore, while I was still alive and occupying the see which, though unworthy, I administered, without the consent of any bishop and without my humble agreement, ordained three bishops on his own authority: out of reverence for that man it is more fitting to pass this over than to press the matter; for I do not dare to accuse him, because he was sent from the supreme authority of this Apostolic See.”

² Accordingly, although Wilfrid was then judged innocent by the decision of the Roman council and sent back to his see, he nevertheless did not regain possession of it because of the violence of King Egfrid, especially since Theodore either opposed him deliberately or allowed the matter by connivance. I have not refrained from saying this in order to show how highly Theodore was regarded at Rome, since that see was not altogether willing to overturn his decisions, even when they had been wrongly made. For the letter which the same Agatho sent to the Sixth Synod assembled at Constantinople also supports this statement and confirms my view. In it, among other things, he says: “We were hoping, moreover, that Theodore, our fellow servant and fellow bishop, archbishop and philosopher of the great island of Britain, together with others who have remained there until now, would come from there to join our humble person, and for this reason we have delayed the council until now.” You see how highly he regarded him, since he delayed a universal council in expectation of his arrival.

³ Berctuald succeeded him, for thirty-seven years. Tatwin succeeded Berctuald. As I had begun to say, the aforementioned author proclaims the miracles and extols the signs of these men, and no less those of Saint Letard, whom ancient tradition says came with Queen Bertha. He relates that Letard, powerful in other matters and especially swift in obtaining rain by prayer, provided a delightful spectacle not many years ago. For when, in the middle of summer, the sun was scorching Cancer, the fields lay parched with dust, and raging Sirius was drying up the thirsty lands, the saint’s body was carried out in procession, but the delay of the miracle frustrated the longing of those who were waiting. Then, after they had returned, a singer, growing angry, cried out at the top of his voice: “Do you not see how great the drought and distress are throughout the whole world, and yet you act negligently?” The saint, thus reproached as though in playful abuse, more than satisfied the longing of those who desired rain with a great deluge of showers. The author then records the succession of kings, together with all their kindred, who rest in Augustine’s church; not without reason does he call them the lights of England the senators of the English court. To this choir of saints, fashioned as though for the diadem of the eternal King, he adds jewels of inestimable glory, flashing destruction upon the insolent and help upon suppliants: I mean Adrian the abbot and Mildrith the virgin, both distinguished by equal praise and sweetness.

⁴ Tatwin, who held the archbishopric for three years, was succeeded by Nothelm in the same year in which Bede died. They say that he was the man whom the same historian, in the prologue to the History of the English, says had been of great service to him in compiling his work while he was a priest of the church of London, bringing from the Roman archives the letters that were necessary for that work.

⁵ When he died after five years, Cuthbert, who was bishop of the Mercians at Hereford, took up the apostolic office. He it was who, as a contemporary of Boniface, convened a great council of England for the restraint of vices, at the urging of the same Boniface and with the aid of King Ethelbald, as I said in the Deeds of the Kings. The opening and proceedings of this synod will be set out here chapter by chapter, sometimes in my own words, but always according to the judgements of the ancients; pardon is asked for the tedium, because we have but few deeds of bishops, and because it is worth the effort to hear of the zeal of the preceding fathers in the things of God.

⁶ In the everlasting reign of our Lord Jesus Christ, who orders all things by the command of the Father and likewise by the life-giving grace of the Holy Spirit, the synodal proceedings set out below were conducted at the beginning of the month of September, near the place called Clovesho; there being present these bishops of the churches of Christ, beloved by God, namely the honourable Archbishop Cuthbert, and Dunn, the venerable bishop of the church of Rochester, together with the most reverend bishops of the Mercians, Totta, Huita, and Podda; and also the most esteemed bishops of the West Saxons, Hunferth and Herewald; and the venerable bishops Herdulf of the East Angles, Egtulf of the East Saxons, and Milred of the Hwicce; and also the honourable bishops Alwi of the province of Lindsey and Siga of the South Saxons; in the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 747, in the fifteenth indiction, and in the thirty-third year of the reign of Ethelbald, king of the Mercians, who was then present with his princes and commanders. When, therefore, the same bishops of holy orders had assembled from the various provinces of Britain, together with dignitaries of lesser orders, and the writings contained in two documents from the venerable Pope Zachary had been read aloud, in which he admonished the English to live with greater discipline and threatened those who disregarded this with excommunication: in the first article they decreed that henceforth bishops should live more diligently and admonish those subject to them more diligently. Secondly, that they should live in a peaceful spirit, although dwelling in separate places. Thirdly, that each should make a circuit of his parishes every year. Fourthly, that each bishop should admonish the abbots and monks in his diocese to live according to the Rule, and superiors not to oppress but to love those subject to them. Fifthly, that even the monasteries which secular men had taken possession of, and which could not then be taken away from them, should be instructed to conduct themselves according to the Rule. Sixthly, that no one should be ordained unless his life had first been examined. Seventhly, that the reading of the Holy Scriptures should be practised frequently in the monasteries. Eighthly, that priests should not be managers of secular business. Ninthly, that priests themselves should not accept payment for baptising children. Tenthly, that they should learn and teach the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed in English. Eleventhly, that all should perform their ministries in one and the same manner. Twelfthly, that they should sing the sacred offices in the churches in a restrained voice. Thirteenthly, that the feasts of the Lord and the anniversaries of the saints should everywhere be celebrated at one and the same time. Fourteenthly, that the Lord’s Day should be observed with honour. Fifteenthly, that the seven canonical hours should be observed each day. Sixteenthly, that neither the Lesser nor the Greater Rogation Days should be omitted. Seventeenthly, that the feasts of Saint Gregory and of our father Augustine should be observed. Eighteenthly, that the fasts of the Ember Days should be observed. Nineteenthly, that monks and nuns should be clothed according to the Rule. Twentiethly, that bishops should take care that these decrees are not neglected. Twenty-firstly, that those of ecclesiastical rank should not become drunk. Twenty-secondly, that the receiving of communion should not be neglected by ecclesiastics. Twenty-thirdly, that the same should be observed by laypeople at the appointed times. Twenty-fourthly, that laypeople should first be tested before becoming monks. Twenty-fifthly, that almsgiving should not be neglected. Twenty-sixthly, that each bishop should make these precepts known to those subject to him. Twenty-seventhly, the benefit of almsgiving was discussed. Twenty-eighthly, the benefit of psalm-singing. Twenty-ninthly, that the community should be established in proportion to its means. Thirtiethly, that monks should not live among laypeople. Thirty-firstly, that public prayers should be offered for kings and princes.

⁷ The proceedings of this synod—for we have touched only upon its articles—Archbishop Cuthbert immediately sent by his deacon Kineberht to Boniface, archbishop of Mainz; whereupon Boniface, congratulating him, wrote back eloquently, as the reader will find in its proper place. But since mention of this man Boniface, who was formerly called Winfrid, has arisen so often, I shall commit to writing something memorable concerning Frederick his disciple, which is not so widely known and which has reached my ears. For the holiness of the master may also be inferred from the virtue of the disciple: Frederick had one at home from whom he might learn not to fear the powerful and to despise death. Willibrord, the first bishop of Utrecht, whom Bede mentions, having completed his course in holiness and old age, had ended his life, and Boniface had succeeded to his charge and preaching in Frisia, after Cobanus had been ordained bishop at Utrecht. A long time therefore passed, until these two, weary of their mortal sojourn, were being called back to heaven, when, look, the Frisians, driven, as is believed, by infernal furies, slaughtered both of them and made them martyrs. Then, as I said in the Deeds of the Kings, Lull filled Boniface’s see at Mainz; but because of the savagery of the people, Frederick was not so quick a successor to Cobanus at Utrecht. Since he breathed the very nectar of Boniface’s holiness, being his kinsman and disciple, Louis the Pious, son of Charles the Great, promoted him to that office, although many were striving on behalf of themselves or their own candidates. On the first day of his consecration, the emperor honoured the new bishop with a seat at his right hand during the meal. When much of the feast had therefore been consumed, the emperor, clad in purple, addressed him, telling him that, mindful of his recent profession and following the constancy of his predecessors, he should declare the truth without respect of persons, and pronounce anathema upon those who despised it. But Frederick, with bashful eyes and lowered head, said: “You act rightly, lord emperor, in encouraging the tenderness of my profession with holy exhortations. But I ask that your Majesty not be displeased to resolve something which the recesses of my mind have long been turning over. And, so that we need not seek examples far away, is it more proper to begin eating this fish placed upon the table from the head or from the tail?” The emperor, answering hastily and unaware how deeply he was entangling himself, replied, “From the head.” Frederick at once seized upon the words, saying: “So let it be, lord Augustus, so let it be, that Christian faith and devotion may confidently rebuke you for your errors, lest your subjects dare to despise what they see you enduring with equanimity. Renounce, therefore, the incestuous marriage which you have contracted, because this Judith, whom you have joined to your side, is closely related to you by blood, and it is not fitting that the royal marriage-bed should be disgraced by lust.” Although Louis received these words badly, he nevertheless brought the matter to an end with restrained silence, and quickly permitted the bishop to depart for his see. Yet words spoken amid so great a gathering of courtiers could not be concealed, but reached the ears of all the bishops of the region and troubled them, wounding their hearts with no trivial grief as they discussed how a new bishop had openly proclaimed with such freedom things which they, though long established, had not condemned even with a subdued murmur. Encouraged therefore to act boldly, they held frequent councils so that, once the marriage had been dissolved, the emperor might live unmarried. Accordingly, he was confined in prison and the woman in a monastery, with Lothar, Louis’s eldest son, exerting himself above all to bring this about, as I said in the Deeds of the Kings—at his own insistence from an impulse of Christian faith, but in truth under the guise of envy. Afterwards, however, through the intervention of the compassion of the Apostolic See, it was decreed by a more lenient council that, after the imposition of penance, they should thereafter rejoice in lawful marriage. The emperor willingly yielded to the judgement and, through the goodness of his disposition, cast out resentment against everyone. But Judith, breathing out a woman’s venom, complained among a gathering of her own people about the injuries done to her by Frederick, bishop of Utrecht, through whose agency above all she had suffered these evils, and found two men who promised their services for his murder. Nor were these things hidden from the bishop, who was a sanctuary of the divine presence; but he awaited the executioners who were to come without fear, and his impatient desire for martyrdom reproached the ruffians for their delay. Thus, on the very morning when he knew that they were coming, he prepared himself for Mass. He had already put on the alb when the servant whose duty it was to admit those wishing to meet his master entered and announced that messengers from the empress were standing at the doors. Frederick, excusing himself because he was occupied, ordered them to wait meanwhile in the dining hall. When Mass had been sung, he entered the sacristy just as he was, clothed in the sacred vestments, and ordered that the executioners be brought in there, with all witnesses removed. When they entered, he so struck them with the brightness of his countenance and the reverence inspired by his vestments that, losing heart, they even let their daggers fall from their hands. Perceiving this, Frederick, who had cast aside the present life in hope of the life to come, of his own accord encouraged his assailants to complete the purpose for which they had come, urging them to recover their courage and renew their strength. Thus, because wickedness is easily persuaded, they attacked him as he sat: one drew his dagger from his breast down to his groin, the other across the middle of his loins. Then Frederick, grasping and holding in both hands his vital organs as they fell out, said: “Go, wretched men, go, while the matter remains hidden from my faithful servants, lest, if they discover you, it be all over with you.” Adding the spur of fear to the speed of their feet, the assassins ran down to the Rhine and from there, by the strength of their arms, drove a boat across to the other side. Meanwhile, when his chamberlain came upon him and asked why he sat there so bloodless, Frederick brusquely sent him away, ordering him to look quickly from the wall to see whether the empress’s messengers had crossed the Rhine. When he learned that the distance of their flight had made their capture difficult, he ordered the clergy to be summoned at once and, still in full possession both of speech and of his senses, related the whole tragedy. Then, himself beginning the antiphon, “Open to me the gates of righteousness” [Psalm 118:19], and the rest, he laid himself alive in his tomb and, by a beautiful and venerable death, attained heaven. I have thought it not unprofitable to bring this forward for readers, although it lies outside my subject, so that it may be reckoned to the glory of the English that they illuminate foreign lands even by the holiness that travels abroad.

⁸ After seventeen years as bishop, Cuthbert was struck by illness and, as he was approaching death, ordered his attendants to bury him at the archbishop’s church. And because the monks of Saint Augustine’s, stubbornly adhering to an ancient custom, used to seize the bodies of deceased archbishops with a certain violence, he ordered that mournful cries should cease throughout the court and the city, and forbade the funeral rites to be conducted openly. Thus, while all commotion was suppressed within and outsiders were kept from entering, the bishop’s body was carried secretly into the church of Saint John the Baptist, which he had built beside the principal church; nor was it reclaimed by the others, who saw that they had been outmanoeuvred. Bregwin succeeded him for three years, and then left the see vacant for Jænberht, formerly abbot of Saint Augustine’s. Of him we spoke in the first book of the Deeds of the Kings, and we shall not now pass over in silence how King Offa of the Mercians, having fallen into hostility with the people of Canterbury, attempted to deprive him of the primacy. At the same time, wishing to distinguish the kingdom of the Mercians with an archbishopric, he prevailed upon Pope Hadrian by letters, and perhaps also by gifts, to elevate the bishop of Lichfield with the pallium, contrary to ancient custom, and to subject all the bishops of the Mercians to him. Their names were these: Deneberht of Worcester, Werenberht of Leicester, Eadwulf of Sidnacester, Wulfheard of Hereford, and the two bishops of the East Angles, Alheard of Elmham and Tidfrith of Dunwich. The bishop of Lichfield was called Ealdwulf. For Offa, in accordance with his power, had created several bishoprics among the Mercians, and had taken possession of the East Angles after killing their king Ethelberht. Of these bishoprics, some were afterwards transferred elsewhere, such as that of Elmham to Norwich; some were united with others, such as that of Dunwich with the same see; and some no longer exist at all, such as Leicester and Sidnacester. Four bishops, however, remained subject to the archbishop of Canterbury: those of London, Winchester, Rochester, and Selsey. This perverse arrangement continued throughout Jænberht’s entire episcopate, although he omitted nothing, either in expense or labour, by which he might uphold the dignity of his see and crush the covetousness of those who had usurped its rights.

⁹ But when he died after twenty-seven years and was buried in the chapter house at Saint Augustine’s, he was succeeded for thirteen years by Ethelard, bishop of Winchester, a man of outstanding diligence and powerful influence among the nobles. Acting on his advice, Egferth, son of Offa, would have restored to Canterbury the honour of the archbishopric, had death not hastened to remove him. But Kenulf, king of the Mercians, having learned from the admonitions of Ethelard and Eanbald, archbishop of York, how great an offence his predecessor had committed, restored the ancient custom completely, sending to Leo, Hadrian’s successor, letters from himself and all the bishops of England, while the archbishop himself diligently conducted the embassy. To prove these matters more clearly from ancient evidence, I shall append suitable portions from the letters of Albin:

¹⁰ “To the most holy Father Ethelard, archbishop, greatly to be venerated among the members of Christ, Alquin the deacon sends greetings in the love of Christ. When I heard of your health and prosperity, and of your meeting with Eanbald, archbishop of York, my son, I was greatly pleased, hoping that through the conversation of your Holiness the honour of the holy Church would be exalted and the life of those serving God within it corrected. Therefore, in another letter of mine I urged your Holiness to remain in your native land, not wishing the light of Britain to be extinguished. But let what pleases God be done, so that it may benefit the churches of Christ. May God grant you a prosperous journey and, with His angel accompanying you, lead you safely there and bring you safely back, sweetest and most beloved Father. Above all, however, I beg that you remember me before the holy apostles, just as we here at Saint Martin’s delight to remember you.”

¹¹ “To the most holy lord and archbishop Ethelard, worthy of every honour. Having read the letter concerning your prosperity, the success of your journey and your return to your native land, and how you were received with apostolic kindness, with all the affection of my heart and a most joyful spirit I gave thanks to the Lord God everlasting, who by the great gift of His mercy directed the course of your pilgrimage along a prosperous path, and granted you favour in the sight of the apostolic father, success in your embassy, and permission to return having obtained your desire; and who deigned through you once again to exalt the most holy see of our first teacher to its former height of dignity, which for a time seemed to have been divided by a breach of dissension through the envious contention of certain men. Blessed is he who strives to preserve the unity of peace through brotherly love, but far more blessed is he who, by devoted labour, strives to restore the bonds of charity, torn apart by others, to the union of one body. Now, therefore, through the working of divine grace, the unity of the members is joined to its own head [Colossians 2:19], and the dignity of the priesthood rejoices in its ancient honour, and true peace shines between the chief bishops of Britain, and under the two metropolitan cities one purpose of devotion and concord flourishes, as I understood from reading the letter of your Blessedness.”

¹² Likewise, in another letter he intercedes on behalf of the bishop of the Mercians, asking that he should not be deprived of the pallium during his lifetime, in these words:

¹³ “May the reading of the Holy Scriptures be renewed through your most holy care, and may ecclesiastical dignity everywhere be exalted, and may the holy see which was first in faith be first also in holiness and honour, though it has been partly divided, not by reasonable judgement, but by a certain lust for power. If it can be peacefully reunited and the breach repaired, it seems good that this should be done with the counsel of all the priests of Christ and of your fellow bishop of the church of York; yet in such a way that the devout father should not be deprived of the pallium during his lifetime, although the ordination of bishops should revert to the holy and primary see.”

¹⁴ Ethelard, then, was the one man who restored the matter to us, not by delaying but by exerting himself; for we may borrow Ennius’s saying about Fabius. Not only Kent is indebted to him for an immense benefit, because by his labours he restored it to its former dignity, but also all England, which he did not allow to be subjected to an inferior see. He was a man to be compared with the greatest bishops after the first teachers, and I would almost say to be preferred to them. And I do not know whether I err in saying this, since it certainly seems a more excellent thing to have restored a dignity that had been lost than to preserve one already gained, although even the latter is accounted worthy of some praise. But if anyone should question how great his holiness and reverence were, let him read the letter sent by Pope Leo to King Kenulf, which is found in the first book of the Deeds of the Kings; in it he calls him most holy, most worthy, most beloved, and most learned. That great and holy pope would surely not have repeated such words unless their truth were established.

¹⁵ After him, Wlfred for twenty-seven years, Fegeld for three months, Celnoth for forty-one years, and Ethered for eighteen years, in uninterrupted succession as archbishops, performed many deeds worthy, as we believe, of God and of the world; but antiquity has swallowed up and erased them all, and nothing of them remains among us except a faint reputation. After Ethered, Pleimund held the see for thirty-four years. He was the teacher of King Alfred and, as I said in the second book of the Deeds of the Kings, ordained seven bishops at Canterbury in a single day; whoever wishes may read their names and sees there. He was succeeded for twelve years by Athelm, one of those whom he had ordained for the church of Wells. Athelm was succeeded by Wlfhelm, who spent thirteen years at Wells and, after Athelm’s death, succeeded him at Canterbury.

¹⁶ Then Odo, the second bishop of Wiltshire, shone as archbishop for twenty years. For, besides those five bishops of Wessex whom, as I have said I know not how many times, Pleimund consecrated in the time of Edward the Elder, not long afterwards a sixth was added, who had his seat at Ramsbury and his diocese in the county of Wiltshire, while the bishop remained at Sherborne and the parishes of the counties of Dorset and Berkshire remained intact. It is therefore right to touch upon Odo’s considerable renown for holiness and miracles, so far as report has come down to us through successive generations. And I intend to do this not only concerning him, but also concerning other saints of England whenever occasion arises, especially those whose deeds are not celebrated everywhere. For to recount here in detail the deeds of those whom the talents of others have already extolled would be an act of folly. Odo, so that the character of his holiness might be all the more evident, just as a rose struggles forth from the roughness of thorn bushes, so, having overcome the Danish ferocity of the people from whom he sprang, became a great example of goodness. His parents had harried England in the time of King Alfred; but he himself, after the others had either departed or died, served for some time as a soldier under Edward, and not long afterwards had his hair tonsured and professed the clerical life. As his merits increased, he was placed over the church of Wiltshire and won King Ethelstan’s friendship. Hence it came about that, when the king set out against Anlaf, the bishop was at his side, to encourage him in prosperity and correct him in adversity. Therefore, on that sorrowful night when, as I said in the second book of the Deeds of the Kings, the king, rendered too careless by his very sense of security, was almost surprised by the enemy and had even lost his sword, Odo came when summoned. And when everything was filled with the confusion of blind tumult, Odo first stretched out his prayers towards heaven, and, looking, saw a sword—a heavenly gift indeed—divinely slipped into the king’s scabbard. This occurrence, immediately reported to Ethelstan when Odo cried out, carried such weight that the king did not hesitate then to call Odo the protector of his life, and afterwards, when Wlfhelm died, to raise him to the primacy of Canterbury. Odo, who had not yet assumed the monastic habit, resisted more firmly, lest he should seem through his own ambition to disturb the custom of his predecessors. For until that time no one had been archbishop unless clothed in the monastic habit. But when the assent of all the bishops was added to the king’s will, the most reverend man at last, relaxing the strictness of his resolve, yielded to the common judgement, recalling the proverb: “The voice of the people is the voice of God.” Accordingly, having crossed the sea, he received the monastic habit at Fleury; a worthy and prudent man, so that he neither scorned the favour of the citizens nor tarnished ancient custom. Thus, throughout the whole time that Ethelstan lived, an unbroken friendship between king and bishop flourished, as each performed his reciprocal duty: the one exercised eloquence in the things of God, while the other, if necessary, wielded the sword.

¹⁷ But after envious fate carried off the flourishing young king, Odo, mature in age and ennobling his grey hairs by holiness, retained the favour of no lesser friendship with Edmund and Edred, because they displayed nothing in their conduct against which episcopal severity needed to be directed. Indeed, he went with them into Northumbria, not to wage war, but to carry away the sacred bodies of saints, in which that land had once been abundant. Hence it came about that, sorrowfully seeing at Ripon the church of the most excellent father Wilfrid, which had been destroyed by the Danes, he cleared the ruins from above the tomb and reverently transferred the relics to Canterbury. And, so that he might raise that most illustrious light of his native land to a place of honour, he ordered his life to be composed in heroic metre. A certain Fridegod carried out this task, in verses that would not be so objectionable, except that, hating Latin, he loves Greek and constantly uses little Greek words, so that the saying of Plautus may deservedly be applied to his work: “No one but the Sibyl will read this.”

¹⁸ Odo himself also gave no slight proof his learning in a letter which, after a synodal council in the time of King Edmund, he sent to his suffragan bishops, the form of which is as follows:

¹⁹ “By the aid of the marvellous mercy of the almighty ruler of heaven, I, Odo, archbishop of the church of our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, metropolitan of the city of Dorvenna, send to my fellow bishops, fellow builders of the Catholic faith and my brothers in the spiritual strength of charity, prosperity in the present life and blessedness in the glory of heaven. If it were in any way possible for the riches of the whole world to be placed before our eyes, so that by imperial gift they might all be at our service, I would gladly distribute them all, and would moreover spend myself for the salvation of your souls [2 Corinthians 12:15], since I myself desire and hope to be strengthened by the devotion of your Holiness in that work in which the Lord God has appointed us as labourers.” And after saying much in which he sets forth the burden of the episcopal office, he added: “Therefore I humbly, as one unworthy yet devoted, beg and exhort your Holiness not to conduct yourselves lukewarmly and negligently in the governance of souls, lest at the dreadful time of judgement the Lord complain of you, saying: “The shepherds did not feed my flock, but themselves” [Ezekiel 34:2-3]; and again: “They set up princes, and I knew it not” [Hosea 8:4]. Rather, let us take care to give the Lord’s household, over which He has appointed us as rulers, its food, the measure of wheat at the proper time [Luke 12:42], namely sound doctrine. And although, because of the quality of my own merits, I would not presume to console or exhort anyone, since I alone am unworthy and guilty of innumerable faults, and rejoice and need to be faithfully strengthened by brotherly admonitions, nevertheless, because of the ancient authority of my predecessors, namely Augustine of blessed memory and the other saints through whose efforts the rule of Christianity first became known from this archiepiscopal see throughout all the territories of the English, I have therefore determined to write these sacred words for the benefit of you all, so that the most august king, distinguished by the name Edmund, together with all his people, may rejoice to imitate what he hears in us and from us, and so that all the peoples who on every side are subject to his royal authority may gladly love and delight to follow the clear marks of our conduct.”

²⁰ But Eadwig, the son of Edmund and successor to the kingdom after his uncle Edred, infamous for headlong recklessness and bodily lust, provoked the bishop’s indignation, so that Odo both suspended him from Christian communion and put an end to the concubinage of his mistress, first by banishment and afterwards by cutting the sinews of her knee. Eadwig retaliated, raging furiously against the monks throughout all Britain, while no one except Odo and Dunstan, then an abbot, dared even to oppose him with a word, because, as Seneca says: “A cock has greatest power on his own dunghill.” Meanwhile the bishop directed his mind towards God and performed miracles in no small number; he also restored to their lawful possession many estates belonging to his see which had been taken away during the Danish incursions, to such an extent that it is established that no archbishop of any age was Odo’s equal in such matters. Yet how slight is the testimony borne to him by Osbern, who says that for his holiness and diligence he would always have deserved to be mourned by the whole realm of the English, had Dunstan not succeeded him. Through some negligence, the church of the archbishopric was left without a roof; yet by his prayers he so covered it that, during the entire time in which the roofing was being prepared, unless what I say should seem incredible, not even a drop of rain wetted the enclosure of the place. And this is held to be all the more remarkable because a great force of rain and frequent storms of violent winds shook the whole world during those days. He so strengthened many who doubted the truth of the Lord’s Body that he openly showed the bread of the altar changed into flesh and the wine of the chalice into blood, and then, when they had been restored to their natural appearance, made them suitable for human use. When he consecrated the most blessed Dunstan, bishop-elect of Worcester, at Canterbury, he performed the whole order of the consecration in such a way that he seemed to be consecrating not the bishop of the Hwicce but the archbishop of Canterbury. When the clerics murmured discreetly, he uttered a prophecy, saying that he knew what he was doing, because after his own death Dunstan would be ruler of the primatial church. Therefore, since the divine will had acted through his ministry, the deed ought, if they judged rightly, to be free from reproach. Nor did speedy fulfilment fail his prediction, although Ælfsige, bishop of Winchester, attempted to interrupt it. For when Odo had already gladdened the heavenly inhabitants, who had long awaited him, by his presence, Ælfsige, having secured supporters whose favour he had courted and obtained a royal decree from King Edgar by stealth, thrust himself into Canterbury. On the very first day of taking possession he did not refrain from pouring out the fury conceived in his mind, kicking the tomb of the blessed man with his foot and assailing his soul with his voice: “At last, you most wicked old man, you have breathed out your tenacious life; at last you have gone away and made room for a better man. And so I now hold, against your will, what I long desired; for that I give you my ill thanks, and such thanks you shall have.” But when that day had passed and the man who had vented his rage had retired to bed, he saw the figure of the blessed man standing before him, reproaching him for the insult and threatening him with swift destruction. Ælfsige, thinking that he was being mocked by a fleeting apparition, nevertheless set out across the Alps towards Rome to receive the pallium. There, frozen by the wintry cold, he could devise no other remedy than to plunge the feet with which he had violated the saint’s tomb into the still-warm entrails of disembowelled horses. But not even so did the cold abate; and as his soul fled in death, he froze stiff.

²¹ After Elfsige’s death, Dunstan, long before marked out as archbishop by a divine oracle, was entreated by King Edgar to honour the chief see by the exercise of his holiness. But he, more than once turning a deaf ear and putting off the king’s request, at last, pressed by the unanimous assent of all the bishops, yielded. He was the nephew, through his brother, of Archbishop Athelm, first abbot of Glastonbury, afterwards bishop of the Hwicce and of London, and finally archbishop of Canterbury, adorning each stage of his advancement with unwearied virtues. The spirit of God had indeed breathed upon the king’s heart, so that he accepted Dunstan’s counsel in all things, carrying out without hesitation whatever the bishop thought should be commanded. Dunstan likewise omitted nothing that he understood to accord with the king’s reputation and salvation, pressing him more sharply when he delayed, first shaping the king’s own conduct into a mirror for his subjects, and, whenever he transgressed, punishing him more sternly without respect of persons. I gave an example of this in the Deeds of the King, namely that Dunstan punished him with seven years of penance for unlawful desire towards a woman who had been, at least nominally, a nun. Thus the nobles, conforming themselves to the king as their example and standard, dared little or nothing contrary to right and justice, since they understood their lord to be so subject to Dunstan. You need not doubt, then, how greatly he restrained the common people from wrongdoing, whether they wished to gain the favour of their lords or to avoid the severe sentence of the laws. To this was added military discipline properly maintained; the rapacity of thieves and the fraud of moneyers were restrained by capital punishment; absolutely nothing was omitted that might offend the inward Judge. The monastic order did not neglect anywhere a way of life worthy of its profession, because they had rulers who were devout in life and distinguished in learning, whom neither idleness made sluggish nor boldness rash. For, after long and careful examination and a weighing and testing of their characters with discerning judgement, both king and archbishop had promoted such men wherever opportunity arose. Accordingly, the clerics of many churches, when given the choice either to change their habit or to leave their places, withdrew, leaving their dwellings vacant for better men. Monasteries of religious therefore rose throughout the whole island, the altars of the saints were heaped with masses of precious metal, and the conduct of those who built them did not fall short of the beauty of the buildings. Thus, while people of every rank were fervent in the service of God, the land itself also seemed to rejoice in peace. The fields rewarded their cultivators with abundant produce; plenty of every good thing overflowed from full abundance, and scarcely ever in Dunstan’s time did a poor harvest disappoint the hopes of the people of the province. The elements shone with cheerful countenances; no mists, no clouds spread their infection across a sluggish sky. Fear of enemies from overseas was far away; all things were quiet and tranquil. In the cities there was neither oppression of the poor, nor discord among the living, nor suspension of justice on account of the dead. By the grace of God, the root of these blessings reached back to Dunstan; from Dunstan it passed to Edgar, and from Edgar it sprang up among the people. Happy indeed were those times, possessing a bishop who did nothing beneath what has been described, and a king who diligently attended to the bishop’s commands.

²² These things won and preserved immortal glory for the man far more than his miracles, although, by God’s provision, he was not lacking in them either. Reason demands that I set down here at least a brief list of them, so that if anyone unfamiliar with his deeds should happen upon these, he may know how greatly this saint, while still an inhabitant of this earthly pilgrimage, had already tasted in his mind the joys of heaven. Indeed, God Himself, who was the author of his future holiness, foreshadowed his birth with a joyful prodigy. For when his mother, pregnant and already near the time of delivery, was standing in church on the Feast of the Purification of Saint Mary amid a large gathering of citizens, all the lights were suddenly extinguished, whether by accident or by the will of God. While everyone stood astonished, the matron’s candle received its light from heaven and, when its flame had been shared with the others, dispelled fear and restored confidence. When the boy was given over to learning, although he mastered the books of every branch of instruction with ease, he embraced more gladly and dearly those which, by shaping his conduct, directed his mind towards heavenly things. While still a little boy of tender age, he drove away with a rod the devil who met him by night accompanied by a pack of raging dogs; and, with angels coming to his aid, he was gently set down upon the ground and entered a locked church. As he grew older, his harp, hanging from a peg, sounded forth a vocal melody without the touch of any human hand: “The souls of the saints rejoice in heaven,” and what follows. On hearing this, he understood that he was being admonished to endure tribulations patiently, and not long afterwards, when he experienced them, he shuddered at the recollection. As a young man, through the agency of one long dead, he received an oracle concerning how great an advancement he would attain both in God and in the world. And lest he think himself mocked by the mist of an empty apparition, he received a sign: a place was shown to him where, three days later, a priest who was not yet weak or ill would be buried. When a king was being carried by the uncontrolled course of a horse towards a precipice, Dunstan, though absent, saved him when the king, on the point of destruction, cried out his name, checking the animal’s course at the very brink of the yawning chasm. A massive beam which, through the carelessness of the workmen, was falling downwards he restored to its place by making the sign of the cross towards it from afar. When he was already a bishop and primate of Britain, being in need of water for the divine service, he brought forth a spring from the natural heart of a rock, which sends forth perennial streams to this day. He clearly foresaw every snare of the devil and powerfully frustrated them. On one occasion, when the devil whispered filthy thoughts of women to him, he burned him with red-hot tongs; and when the same enemy harassed him during prayer, assuming the appearance now of a fox and now of a bear, he drove him away with a staff. When the devil repeatedly burst into loud laughter for joy at his exile, Dunstan rebuked him with threats and brought those threats to fulfilment, for on returning from exile he inflicted a great loss upon the devil by winning souls for God. He learned of the soon-to-come death of King Edmund and of Eadwig’s death after it had occurred through the rejoicing of demons; he buried the body of the former at Glastonbury and rescued the soul of the latter from the violence of his enemies. What of this? Must it not be related with a sense of profound reverence, that with his bodily eyes he saw the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove [Luke 3:22], present both with a woman in her death agony and with himself while he was celebrating Mass, and afterwards saw Him settle with a graceful flight above the memorial of the most blessed Odo? For this reason, whenever occasion thereafter arose, he called Odo “Odo the Good”, using it as a customary and almost personal name. Moreover, good God, how familiarly the heavenly spirits appeared to him; how closely they conversed with him, encouraging with holy exhortations one who still sighed for their homeland had grown weary of this earthly life. He learned of the birth and future prosperity of King Edgar through an angelic harmony, and of Edred’s death through a fiercer collision of clouds. For the dreadful crashing sound was confirmed by the immediate death of the animal on which he was riding. Though absent, he saw and announced a disciple’s blessed departure to heaven. Clear-sighted in prophecy, and never suffering the rebuff of any prediction proving false, he foretold to King Ethelred the misery that awaited him, and to the virgin Edith and Bishop Ethelwold that their deaths were close at hand; and he appointed the holy Elfege to succeed that same Ethelwold, having received the Apostle Andrew as his adviser. Dunstan enjoyed his consolation above all, whether in avoiding adversity or moderating prosperity. But surpassing all these things, outweighing them all, was that with wakeful eyes he saw the Lady, the Mother of the Lord, in a present miracle, inviting her companions in chastity, among whom was Dunstan’s own mother, to the praise of Christ, and singing and repeating with melodious harmony these words of Sedulius:

²³ “Let us sing to the Lord, companions, let us sing His honour:
Let the sweet love of Christ resound from devout lips.”

²⁴ It is truly wonderful, altogether wonderful, what is related, yet not contrary to established truth: that he himself, while enclosed in a body of clay, should perceive with his eyes and drink in with his ears what, by God’s great gift, is to be granted to the saints in the life to come, and which even now gently draws them on and happily comforts them with blessed hope. And I indeed believe, nor is the belief groundless, that he also heard the song of angels chanting “Kyrie eleison”, which the churches of the English now gladly learn and teach. Glorious in these triumphs and victorious in these honours, after completing the twenty-seventh year of his patriarchate, he was taken up to heaven, to his own immense glory and his country’s grievous affliction. For immediately the joyful face of the elements withered, and the peace secured by his wisdom vanished with the coming of the Danes, although by very great miracles he alleviated the calamities of his children. Of these, I have not seen written down the one which I recently heard related by a certain monk of Christ Church. A thief condemned to be thrown from a height called upon Saint Dunstan for help; and, with his eyes bound, having been led backwards by the executioners, he leapt from the precipice and was not injured. There blessed Dunstan spoke with him bodily and loosened the bindings from his eyes. Encouraged by this consolation, the wretched man escaped upwards along rugged paths, while the hand of someone whom he could not see supported his back as he struggled up the steep slope, lest he slip backwards. But since the turmoil of those times is related in my writings, and the saint’s miracles in the writings of others, I shall return to the succession of the bishops.

²⁵ Dunstan was succeeded for one year by Ethelgar, who had first been made abbot of the New Minster at Winchester by blessed Ethelwold, and afterwards had also received the bishopric of the South Saxons, whose see was then at Selsey but is now at Chichester. After his death, Elfric, formerly bishop of Wiltshire, held the see for eleven years; he had previously also been abbot of Abingdon. As for what some say, that during his archbishopric of Canterbury he installed monks after driving out the clerics, this does not seem probable. For it is certain that monks had been in the church of the Holy Saviour from the time of Archbishop Laurence, who was the first to succeed the most blessed Augustine, as will be clear from the letter of Pope Boniface to King Ethelbert which will be given below. After him came Siric, himself also bishop of Wiltshire, for five years. It was on his advice, as I said in the Deeds of the Kings, that King Ethelred sold his freedom of spirit to the Danes for money, buying their peace with silver when he could have driven them off with iron, had he not lacked courage. Hence an unbearable burden of tribute was imposed upon England, reducing the fortunes of the inhabitants of the province to utter ruin. When his successor Elfege, formerly bishop of Winchester and archbishop for six years and seven months, refused to do this, unwilling to purchase the ease of his own repose at the expense of the wretched, he was seized and thrown into chains, and finally stoned by the Danes themselves, giving up his soul to heaven. Osbern wrote his life, full of virtues and miracles, especially that one in which, while at Rome, he announced to his companions with unmistakable certainty the death of Kenulf, who had succeeded him at Winchester. Moreover, when the day of his glory was dawning and he was now on the point of satisfying the fury of his enemies by his death, he saw Dunstan, who foretold his passing suffering and promised him the glory to come. As for the fact that his body, still bearing the marks of fresh blood, has remained untouched by the corruption of decay down to this day, I have both mentioned it elsewhere and, since it is commonly known among the people, it needs no repetition.

²⁶ Living, who was also called Ethelstan, succeeded the martyr Elfege for seven years, being raised from bishop of Wells to archbishop through the support of King Egelred. That king was still alive, having all too fully experienced through his own calamities the true prophecy of the most blessed Dunstan which we mentioned above. He was a man who saw his provinces being overthrown before his eyes, and himself finally driven into exile, yet devised no remedy. Some attribute this to bodily weakness, others to sluggishness of mind. Nevertheless, however posterity may receive my words, I declare without qualification that it was a great mark of wretchedness that, when the primate of the country had been imprisoned for seven months, the king brought him no aid and roused himself to no vengeance, moved neither by the dignity of the bishop nor by the shamefulness of the calamity. Therefore I can apply to Egelred that ancient proverb, that “from a conspicuous thunderbolt of virtue there had sprung inactive darkness.” For what in England was ever comparable to his father Edgar in virtue, or to this son in sloth? Living therefore filled the place of the deceased Elfege, as I have said; and after him came Egelnod, for eighteen years, concerning whom I have recorded some things in the deeds of Cnut. Edsi succeeded him for eleven years, and after the death of Hardacnut raised King Edward to the throne, supporting the efforts of Earl Godwin with his authority and blessing, and rendering vain the wishes of the Danes who opposed them. Not long afterwards, having contracted an incurable illness, he willingly resigned his office while still alive, having first arranged privately with the king and the earl that Siward, abbot of Abingdon, should succeed him. But when Siward, ungrateful towards the very man who had conferred the honour upon him, deprived the sick man even of the necessities of life, the designated successor was removed; and the bishopric of Rochester was given to him, to lessen his shame and console him for his loss.

²⁷ Then the king made Robert, whom he had raised from being a monk of Jumièges to bishop of London, archbishop for two years, repaying with this very great reward the kindnesses Robert had once shown him while he was an exile in Normandy. Thus, both because of their old friendship and because of his recent honour, Robert claimed the foremost place in the king’s counsels. He deposed whom he wished and raised up whom he pleased. I speak of matters known to the English, and repeat things said elsewhere. The English therefore envied the Norman and sought to diminish the king’s goodwill towards him. He, on the other hand, persisted all the more stubbornly, until he drove the leading nobles, namely Godwin and his sons, from England after accusing them of treason before the king. There were also other causes and other authors of their expulsion, as I have not concealed elsewhere; but Robert sounded the trumpet more loudly and pressed the accusation more insistently. At that time the outcome of events favoured the judgement of his mind; but in the following year, when the matter was brought before the judgement of the people, the exiles were restored. Since the archbishop had no doubt that their reconciliation would be harmful to him, he anticipated the decision of the court and went to Rome. Returning from there with letters asserting his innocence and his restoration, he met the end of his life at Jumièges.

²⁸ Then a certain Stigand, who had once relinquished the bishopric of the East Angles and, aspiring to a higher rank, had seized that of Winchester, grasped the opportunity he had desired and, circumventing the simplicity of the innocent king, added the archbishopric to such honours for seventeen years. In other respects, indeed, he was neither foolish nor ineffective. But where ambition was concerned, he had no regard for his dignity: whatever he could snatch from others he would hoard for himself, and he never restrained his avarice. As for the sacred offices of the churches, he acquired some for himself with money and sold others to other men by his word, making bishoprics and abbeys into outright public markets, and admitting moderation in his desires only where there was nothing available for him to desire. Would you not call it beast-like rapacity that he alone possessed the bishopric of Winchester and the archbishopric of Canterbury, as well as many abbeys, each of which by itself would have been more than sufficient for any worthy man? Yet I conjecture that he sinned through error rather than deliberate judgement, because, being an unlearned man, like most and almost all the bishops of England at that time, he did not know how gravely he was offending, supposing that ecclesiastical affairs were to be conducted in the same way as public business. Therefore he never deserved to receive the pallium from Rome, although venality also has great influence there, except that a certain Benedict, a usurper of the Apostolic See, sent him one, rejoicing that Stigand had called him pope when other archbishops treated him with ridicule. But when Benedict was deposed not long afterwards, all his acts were annulled, and it was decreed by a sound council that a man who had not justly possessed the papacy could not legitimately bestow the pallium. Stigand did not come to his senses over these matters, but persisted, caring little for the salvation of souls so long as he enjoyed his outward honour. Meanwhile William, count of Normandy, came to England subdued the country by arms, since both God’s permission favoured him and certain reasons were available which he himself considered by no means weak. When, by victory in the battle of Hastings and the surrender of Dover Castle, he had spread terror of his name, he came to London. As he approached, Stigand, together with the most powerful of the English, went out to meet him and welcomed him with his favour; and, after they had spoken together, William received Stigand as father and archbishop, while Stigand received William as king and son. Nevertheless, the king refused to receive the crown of the kingdom from his hand, with his customary cunning arranging for objections to be raised on behalf of the Apostolic See. Not long afterwards, when he sailed to Normandy, under the guise of honour he took the reluctant Stigand with him, lest in his absence anything treacherous should spring up in England through Stigand’s authority. Meanwhile, it is difficult to say with how many marks of honour he received him, respectfully rising to him wherever they went and causing long ceremonial processions to come out to meet him at every bishopric and abbey in Normandy. But whatever was concealed beneath these coverings came plainly to light when Ermenfred, bishop of Sion and legate of Pope Alexander, came to England. At a council convened according to the king’s wishes, he deposed Stigand, who appealed to William’s pledged faith and protested against the violence. And although William excused himself courteously by pleading the pope’s command, he did not dispel the suspicion that he had desired Stigand’s deposition, since he kept him in chains at Winchester for the rest of his life. There, therefore, Stigand sustained his life on meagre provisions, because little was supplied to him from the royal treasury, while he himself, through the innate hardness of his disposition, would allow nothing of his own to be spent upon him. Indeed, when his friends, and especially Queen Edith, widow of King Edward, urged him to clothe and feed himself more comfortably, he swore by every holy thing that he did not possess so much as a penny. That this oath lacked the solidity of truth was proved by the immense quantity of wealth found after his death in underground chambers. The means by which these were discovered was a small key hanging from the dead man’s neck, which guarded his private chest. When it was inserted into the lock, the documents found within revealed both the kinds of metals and the quantities of their weights.

²⁹ He had not yet breathed his last when Lanfranc, abbot of Caen, was chosen by King William for the archbishopric. He was a Lombard by birth, and came from a family neither very humble nor obscure; but he was especially distinguished in learning, and, bringing into Gaul the liberal arts which had long fallen into neglect in Latium, refined them by the sharpness of his intellect. Spending his younger years in secular studies, he matured in mind and age in the divine Scriptures. Instructed by these, and setting little value on the vanities of the world and the bombastic language of pagan authors, he conceived a desire for the monastic life; and, after considering many places for a long time, out of the whole abundance of abbeys he chose Bec in Normandy above all others, won over by the poverty of the place and the religious devotion of the monks. For when he happened to arrive there, he saw the abbot himself, named Herluin, girded up for baking bread and with his hands smeared with dung. Having therefore become a monk there, and being a man who did not know how to obtain his livelihood by rural labour, he publicly taught dialectic, so that through the generosity of his students he might relieve the poverty of the monastery. His fame reached the most distant regions of the Latin world, and Bec became a great and famous school of learning. The glory of his reputation stirred up envy against him among wicked men; the count’s chaplains, who saw themselves beneath him in learning, turned Count William’s mind against him because he had openly mocked one of them for his ignorance of letters. Therefore Lanfranc, having received an order to rid Normandy of his troublesome presence, came to the court. He soon obtained the count’s favour, because William immediately perceived from the liveliness of his understanding how great Lanfranc’s wisdom was, judging his inner qualities from the dignity of his appearance and the wit of his reply. Not long afterwards he made him abbot at Caen, where he had raised a monastery dedicated to Saint Stephen from its foundations. Indeed, after being raised to the throne of the kingdom, he appointed him archbishop, as I have said; and Lanfranc himself will explain this better in his own writing, in which he wrote as follows concerning his ordination and the dispute that arose and was settled between himself and Thomas of York.

³⁰ “In the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 1070, Lanfranc, abbot of the monastery of Caen, entered the land of England at the urging and command of William, glorious king of the English, and Alexander of blessed memory, supreme pontiff of the whole holy Church. A few days after his arrival, he undertook the government of the church of Canterbury. He was consecrated on the fourth day before the Kalends of September in the metropolitan see by the suffragans of that see: William, bishop of London; Walkelin of Winchester; Remigius of Dorchester, or Lincoln; Siward of Rochester; Herfast of Elmham, or Thetford; Stigand of Selsey; Herman of Sherborne; and Giso of Wells. The others who were absent explained the reasons for their absence both by messengers and by letters. In the same year Thomas, bishop-elect of the church of York, came to Canterbury to be consecrated by him according to ancient custom. When Lanfranc, preserving the custom of his predecessors, required from him a written profession of obedience, with the addition of an oath, Thomas replied that he would never do this unless he first read written authorities concerning the matter, saw witnesses who affirmed this ancient custom, and finally heard appropriate reasons concerning it, by which he ought justly and reasonably to do so without prejudice to his own church. He did this, however, more from ignorance than from the obstinacy of a proud spirit. For he was a newcomer and completely unfamiliar with English custom, and gave more credence than was right or proper to the words of flatterers. Nevertheless, in the presence of the few bishops who had come to him for this consecration, Lanfranc demonstrated what he was claiming. But Thomas rejected everything and departed unconsecrated. When the king heard this, he took it badly, thinking that Lanfranc was making unjust demands and relying more upon his knowledge of letters than upon reason and truth; although Thomas himself was not lacking in learning, acquired through great ability and much study. After a few days had passed, Lanfranc came to the royal court and requested a hearing from the king; by presenting his reasons he calmed the king’s mind, and persuaded those from across the sea who were present that justice lay on his side. For the English who knew the matter bore steadfast testimony to his assertions in every respect. Accordingly, by royal command the common decree of all, it was decided that for the present Thomas ought to return to the church that was the mother of the whole kingdom, write a profession, read what he had written, and, after it had been read and examined in the presence of the bishops, present it to Lanfranc; in this he was to promise absolutely and without any condition that he would obey Lanfranc’s commands in all matters pertaining to the observance of the Christian religion; but he was not to promise the same to Lanfranc’s successors unless first, either personally or in an episcopal council, sufficient reason were given to him by which it could most clearly be proved that his predecessors had made, and had been obliged to make, such a profession to the primates of the church of Canterbury. He therefore returned, fulfilled what had been commanded, was consecrated, and departed. Not many days afterwards Lanfranc requested and received professions from all the bishops of the kingdom of England who, at different times and in different places, had been consecrated by other archbishops or by the pope during the time of Stigand. In the following year he went to Rome with the aforementioned archbishop, and, being honourably received by the Apostolic See, received one pallium from the altar according to Roman custom; but Pope Alexander gave him another with his own hand, as a token of his affection, namely the one in which he himself was accustomed to celebrate Mass. In Alexander’s presence Thomas raised a claim concerning the primacy of the church of Canterbury and the subjection of three bishops—those of Dorchester, or Lincoln; Worcester; and Lichfield, which is now Chester—saying that the churches of Canterbury and York possessed equal honour with one another and that, according to the ordinance of blessed Gregory, neither ought in any way to be subject to the other, except that whichever archbishop had been ordained first ought to be the senior and more dignified of the two; and that the same three bishops had from ancient times been subject to his see and to his predecessors. When Lanfranc heard this, although he took it badly, he nevertheless replied with restrained discretion that Thomas’s words were entirely devoid of truth, asserting that Gregory’s ordinance had been issued not concerning the churches of Canterbury and York, but those of London and York. After many words had been exchanged on both sides concerning this matter and the three bishops, Pope Alexander decreed that this case ought to be heard in England there determined by the testimony and judgement of the bishops and abbots of the whole kingdom. Although Lanfranc held Thomas bound during his own lifetime by the profession Thomas had made to him, he nevertheless preferred to labour on behalf of his successors rather than leave so great a claim unresolved for them to settle in the future. Both therefore came to the king at the solemnity of Easter, and there, after the arguments of both sides had been brought forward, the royal court gave judgement on the matter. It was then ordered that a document should be drawn up containing the final settlement of the whole case.” Lanfranc sent Pope Alexander a letter in which he briefly and truthfully related to him the course of the whole affair. Both documents are appended below, preceded by the profession which Thomas placed into Lanfranc’s hand before the king and his court.

³¹ “It is fitting that every Christian should be subject to Christian laws, and should not for any reason oppose those things which were beneficially established by the holy fathers. For from this arise anger, dissensions, envy, contentions, and the other things which plunge those who love them into eternal punishments [Galatians 5:20-21]. And the higher a person’s rank, the more earnestly he ought to obey the divine commands. Therefore I, Thomas, now ordained metropolitan bishop of the church of York, having heard and understood the reasons, make to you, Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, and to your successors an unconditional profession of canonical obedience, and promise that I will observe whatever shall justly and canonically be enjoined upon me by you or by them. Concerning this matter, however, when I was to be ordained by you, I was in doubt; and therefore I promised that I would obey you without condition, but your successors conditionally.”

³² “In the year 1072 from the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the eleventh year of the pontificate of Lord Pope Alexander, and the sixth year of the reign of William, glorious king of England duke of Normandy, in the presence of the king himself and of the bishops and abbots, the case was debated concerning the primacy which Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, claimed over the church of York by right of his own church, and concerning the ordinations of certain bishops, as to whom they particularly belonged, which was by no means clearly established. At length, by authorities relating to the various matters, it was proved and demonstrated that the church of York ought to be subject to the church of Canterbury, and in all things pertaining to the Christian religion to obey the directions of its archbishop as primate of all Britain. The metropolitan of Canterbury, however, granted to the archbishop of York and his successors for ever the subjection of the bishop of Durham, that is, of Lindisfarne, together with all the regions from the boundaries of the bishopric of Lichfield and the great river Humber as far as the furthest borders of Scotland, and whatever on this side of the same river belongs by right to the diocese of the church of York. Thus, if the archbishop of Canterbury wishes to convene a council wherever he sees fit, the archbishop of York shall, at his summons, present himself together with all the bishops subject to him, and shall obey his canonical directions. That the archbishop of York ought to make a profession to the archbishop of Canterbury, even with an oath, Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, demonstrated from the ancient custom of his predecessors; but, out of love for the king, he released Thomas, archbishop of York, from the oath and received only a written profession, without prejudicing his successors who may wish to require an oath together with the profession from Thomas’s successors. If the archbishop of Canterbury dies, the archbishop of York shall come to Canterbury and, together with the other bishops of the same church, shall by right consecrate the man who has been elected as his own primate. But if the archbishop of York dies, the man elected to succeed him, after receiving the gift of the archbishopric from the king, shall go to Canterbury, or wherever the archbishop of Canterbury sees fit, and shall receive ordination from him according to canonical custom.”

³³ If I were to set down here the whole of Lanfranc’s letter to Pope Alexander, it would certainly be burdensome. Therefore I shall include only what pertains to the matter, adding also the privileges of the Apostolic See, which he himself declares to have been of great assistance in confirming his case. Hence no one should justly accuse me, as though by filling my volume with writings of this kind I were transferring another man’s glory to myself; rather, if he judges fairly, he will pardon the necessity imposed by the history I have undertaken. Indeed, the diligent reader should be grateful to the writer, because he will find gathered together here everything which it would both be laborious to search for through many volumes and uncertain whether it could ever be found. Moreover, since the controversy between the two metropolitans has still not come to rest, but even now remains the subject of great dispute, when in due course I come to those who are now at variance, I shall have no need to show which side is supported by the truth, since I shall already have dealt with the matter beforehand in the time of this Lanfranc.

³⁴ “To Pope Alexander, supreme overseer of the whole Christian religion, Lanfranc, bishop of the holy church of Canterbury, offers the obedience due to him with all service. In the council which was convened in England by your authority, where the complaints of Archbishop Thomas were brought forward and debated, the Ecclesiastical History of the English People, composed by Bede, a priest of the church of York and teacher of the English, was produced. Passages were read by which, with the agreement of all, it was demonstrated that from the time of blessed Augustine, the first archbishop of Canterbury, down to the final years of Bede himself, a period extending over almost one hundred and forty years, my predecessors exercised primacy over the church of York and the whole island which they call Britain, as well as Ireland; extended pastoral care to all; very often celebrated episcopal ordinations and councils in the city of York itself and in neighbouring places wherever they saw fit; summoned the bishops of York to those councils; and, whenever circumstances required it, compelled them to give an account of their actions. It was also demonstrated that, within that period of one hundred and forty years, the bishops whose subjection Thomas had called into question had been consecrated by the archbishops of Canterbury and summoned to councils, and that some of them, when their offences required it, had been deposed by those archbishops with the authority of the Roman See. And many other things of this kind were shown which the limits proper to a letter do not permit me to explain individually. Various councils were produced for reading, which had been celebrated by my predecessors at different times and for different reasons. Although these did not have the same subject for their institution, they nevertheless maintained the same judgement concerning the primacy and the subjection of bishops. The elections of those same bishops about whom the dispute concerned, made before my predecessors, and their ordinations by them, were recited; and those bishops had left written professions of their obedience to the church of Canterbury. For the city which is now called Canterbury was in ancient times called Dorobernia by the inhabitants of that land. Nor were records lacking by which it was revealed that, when England was divided among several petty kings, the king of the Northumbrians, in whose territory the city of York is situated, sold a bishopric for payment to a simoniac; for this offence he was summoned to a council by the archbishop of Canterbury, and, when he refused to come, incurred a sentence of excommunication for his disobedience. The whole Church in those regions abstained from communion and fellowship with him until he presented himself before the council and corrected what had been wrongly done. Finally, as though the strength and confirmation of the whole case, the privileges and writings of your predecessors Gregory, Boniface, Honorius, Vitalian, Sergius, another Gregory, Leo, and John were produced, which at various times and for various reasons had been given or sent to the bishops of the church of Canterbury and to the kings of the English. For the remaining authentic documents of the other popes, as well as copies of them, were entirely consumed in the burning and destruction which our church suffered four years ago. After these and other matters, which cannot be explained individually and briefly, had been argued on behalf of our church in the case, Thomas offered very few objections against the clear evidence of so many and such great authorities, chiefly bringing forward that letter in which blessed Gregory ordained that the churches of London and York should be equal and that neither should be subject to the other. When everyone immediately decided by unanimous judgement that this document had no bearing on the matter, because I was not bishop of London and no question had been raised concerning the church of London, he turned to other meagre and weak arguments, which, after a short delay, with Christ revealing the truth, were overturned by a few objections. And so forth.”

³⁵ “To the most excellent and pre-eminent son, Ethelbert, king of the English, Boniface, bishop, servant of the servants of God. Since the integrity of your Christian faith has so increased in the worship of its Creator that it shines far and wide, and, being proclaimed throughout the whole world, makes known the growth of your works worthy of God, we render immense thanks to God, the giver of all good things, who looked down upon you from on high and raised you to so great a height of virtue. Therefore, glorious son, what you requested from the Apostolic See through our fellow bishop Mellitus we grant with a willing heart; namely, that your Benevolence may freely establish in every respect a dwelling for monks living according to the Rule in the monastery situated in the city of Canterbury, which your holy teacher Augustine, disciple of Gregory of blessed memory, consecrated in the name of the Holy Saviour, and over which our most beloved brother Laurence is known at present to preside. By apostolic authority we decree that those monks who are your preachers should associate with themselves a community of monks and adorn their lives with holy conduct. If any of your successors, whether kings or bishops, clerics or laymen, should attempt to render these decrees of ours void, let him be subject to the bond of anathema from Peter, prince of the apostles, and from all his successors, until he repents of what he has done with reckless presumption by making satisfaction pleasing to God and truly amends this disturbance. Farewell in Christ, lord and son. Sent by the hand of Mellitus, bishop of London, in the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 615.”

³⁶ “To our most beloved brother Justus, Boniface, bishop, servant of the servants of God. Having received the letter of your affection, in which we found, among other things, that very many of the pagans dwelling there, with the help of Almighty God and our Lord Jesus Christ, have been converted, and especially that in the regions of Kent they have through your labours been brought to faith in our true God, we greatly rejoiced. We also praised Almighty God that the mind of King Eadbald has been corrected towards the way of true knowledge, for He has not forsaken the mystery of His name or the fruit of your labour, just as He Himself truly promised the preachers of the Gospel: “Look, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” [Matthew 28:20]. Great mercy has been shown by God, and greatly shown in you, since the hearts of barbarous peoples are being opened to receive the singular mystery of your preaching. For, that they might advance, their salvation has been furthered by your merits, the Lord saying: “He who perseveres to the end shall be saved” [Matthew 24:13]. I have indeed learned from your letter that our predecessor Gregory of holy memory established for Augustine and all his successors thereafter the metropolitan and primary see in the city of Canterbury, where the chief seat of the whole English people had been held since the days of paganism. But now, through the revelation of Jesus Christ, who is the origin and head of Christianity, that same city is exalted, and the orthodox faith, which is the noblest root, is planted there, so that from that crop all the islanders may reap the most abundant fruit of good works as nourishment for the heavenly homeland. O how blessed is that city which has merited to have Christ dwelling within it! Blessed is that city, and blessed also the whole people, since heavenly mercy did not disdain to visit those whom before the creation of the world it had predestined to unite to itself [Ephesians 1:4-5]. Therefore, far be it from any Christian that anything should now or in future times be diminished from that city of Canterbury, or that anything established by our predecessor Lord Pope Gregory should be altered, however human affairs may be shaken. Rather, by the authority of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, we confirm the same by our command: that in the city of Canterbury the metropolitan see of all Britain shall always remain hereafter, and we decree with unbroken and perpetual stability that all the provinces of the kingdom of the English shall be subject to the metropolitan church of the same place. And since this church stands especially under the authority and protection of the holy Roman Church, if anyone should attempt to diminish it or take from it anything belonging by right to the authority granted to it, may Almighty God remove him from His book of life [Psalm 69:28; Revelation 3:5], and let him know that he is bound by the bonds of anathema. May God preserve you unharmed, reverend brother.”

³⁷ “To our most beloved brother Honorius, Honorius, bishop, servant of the servants of God. Having received the letter of your affection, we found in it that the solicitude of your labour for the flock entrusted to you is occupied with much toil, and that amid increasing evils and worldly practices your mind often bears the weight of difficulties with much labour and distress. We therefore exhort your affection to hold fast to the work of the Gospel which you have begun, because in it you must labour and persevere rather than abandon it. Remember the command of the Gospel, where it is said: “I have prayed for you, Peter, that your faith may not fail; and when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers” [Luke 22:32]. And again in the Apostle: “Be steadfast and immovable, knowing that your labour is not in vain before the Lord” [1 Corinthians 15:58]. Therefore we humbly admonish your affection that, through faith and works, in the fear of God and in charity, what you and your predecessors have gained, which began to spring up through the beginnings made by Lord Gregory, may grow stronger and spread more widely, so that the promise of the Lord’s word may call you to the eternal feast, which says: “Come to me, all you who labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you” [Matthew 11:28]. And again: “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your lord; because you have been faithful over a few things, I will set you over many” [Matthew 25:21]. Meanwhile, you have asked that the authority of your see be confirmed by a privilege of our authority. We, without any delay, freely grant this, because it is right that those things which we know to have once been established and arranged by our predecessors should also be confirmed by us. Following in their footsteps, therefore, according to the practice of the ancient custom which your church has maintained from the time of Augustine of holy memory, your predecessor, until now, by the authority of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, we grant to you, Honorius, and to your successors for ever the possession of the primacy of all the churches of Britain. We therefore command that all the churches and regions of England be subject to your jurisdiction, and that in the city of Canterbury the metropolitan see, the honour of the archbishopric, and the headship of all the churches of the English shall always hereafter be preserved; and that through no evil persuasion shall it be transferred by any person to another place. But if anyone should act otherwise, driven by the spirit of pride and disobedient to our command, and should strive to resist the dignity granted to the same church, let him know that he is separated from participation in the body and blood of the Lord and Redeemer Jesus Christ. May God preserve you unharmed, reverend brother.”

³⁸ “To our most beloved brother Theodore, Vitalian, bishop, servant of the servants of God. Among the many things which you instructed us to be informed of through your letter, we have also learned of your desire for confirmation of the diocese which is subject to you, because you desire it to be distinguished in every respect by a privilege of our apostolic authority. We, therefore, granting your petition, because it accords with pastoral care for the churches of God which we understand to have been established by this Apostolic See from ancient times, firmly desire that they should be protected with perpetual stability by our successors just as by ourselves. Therefore it has seemed good to us to exhort you and, by this present document, to entrust to your most discerning Holiness all the churches situated on the island of Britain. Accordingly, everything established and confirmed by Saint Gregory, our predecessor, for Augustine his companion, or granted through the sacred use of the pallium, we grant to you for ever; and you shall possess the city of Canterbury, where, through the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Catholic faith was first received according to the institution of the sacred canons. By the authority of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, to whom the Lord God gave the power of binding and loosing in heaven and on earth [Matthew 16:19], we, though unworthy, holding the place of that same blessed Peter, bearer of the keys of the kingdom of heaven [Matthew 16:19], grant to you, Theodore, and to your successors, to possess for ever, unaltered, in your metropolitan see situated in the city of Canterbury, those things which were granted to it in former times. But if anyone, which we do not desire, should attempt to act contrary to the authority of this privilege of our apostolic decree, if he is a bishop, priest, or deacon, we decree by this apostolic authority that the bishop shall be deprived of the office of the episcopate, and that the priest or deacon shall know himself to be deposed from his rank. But if he is among the laity, whether a king or a prince, whether a person of high or low rank, let him know himself to be excluded from participation in the body of our Lord Jesus Christ. This document of privilege, supported by the authority of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, whose ministry we discharge, we entrust to you, Theodore, and to your successors to possess for ever. May God preserve you unharmed, most beloved brother.”

³⁹ “Sergius, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to Ethelred, Alfrid, and Aldulf, kings of the English. The gift of spiritual grace, through the illumination of the Holy Spirit, kindles the hearts of the faithful, restores them by renewing them, strengthens them wonderfully with steadfastness in virtue, teaches them continually to merit the aid of heavenly benefits, and likewise to guard against the destruction of transitory things. By this gift of God’s loving-kindness the holy fathers, shining throughout the whole world like certain radiant lights among the stars of heaven, gloriously merited, after the blessed joys of this present life, to be numbered among the elect. But you, a holy nation, a chosen race, a people for God’s own possession, children of light, a royal stock [1 Peter 2:9; 1 Thessalonians 5:5], offspring of faith and increase of virtues, rejoice in the Lord and exult [Philippians 4:4], because Peter, the illustrious and chief of the apostles, the most steadfast rock of faith [Matthew 16:18], not forgetful of your devotion, while rejoicing in the judgement of your minds and consciences, also remembers and acknowledges your names. We trust indeed that he also opens the entrance to the heavenly kingdom for those upon whom he has bestowed so great a favour of dignity among the peoples over whom, with God’s favour, you hold pre-eminence. You therefore, most Christian and beloved sons, receive with joyful hearts and devout minds Berhtwald, the bishop bestowed upon you by his authority, bishop of the see of Kent and chief bishop of all Britain, knowing that whoever receives him as a prophet shall receive a prophet’s reward [Matthew 10:41]. And if anyone should perhaps rush, in his pride, to despise him—which God forbid!—he despises not him but the one by whom he was sent [Luke 10:16]. According to the Lord’s own words, such a man shall be condemned without any support. Far from you, then, and far away, be such detestable presumption, lest the ancient enemy find in you the dreadful face of disobedience, whom the holy Church of God has deigned to unite within her bosom among the children of adoption. We pray that, in His accustomed mercy, our Lord Jesus Christ may cause you to be raised beyond words to the honour of your ministry and royal dignity, and preserve you for the examination of the judgement to come.”

⁴⁰ “Sergius, to all his most beloved brothers, the bishops established throughout Britain. Just as the favour of heavenly mercy, which has granted to us the care and governance of the pastoral office of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, has brought before us the venerable presence of a brother previously unknown to us, so too the welcome news of your most devout episcopal fellowship has brought us a twofold cause for rejoicing. For we have rendered immense thanks to the Lord our God, the author of all good things, on finding among faithful brothers, in the bosom of holy mother Church, devoted steadfastness in unanimity, fervent mutual love, and fellowship in affection. For in this way they are known, with watchful diligence, to please God, offering Him pure offerings, when, cherishing anew upon the altar of the heart the splendour of the true light, they allow no enticements to deceive the mind, no provocations from their brothers to wound their hearts, and give no assent in their minds to anything harmful to their neighbours; but, as ministers of God, they present themselves to those subject to them as a mirror through the uprightness of their life and conduct. Hence they will find God favouring them in adversity, nor will the snares of the enemy be able to steal anything from them by doing them harm. For where the Lord’s help is at hand, all the hostility of evil spirits is put to flight. Since this is so, rejoicing with paternal affection in the unanimous devotion of your brotherly love, we make known to you that our present most beloved brother Berhtwald, bishop of the province of Canterbury, who has been appointed to the see of Theodore, formerly archbishop of venerable memory, according to the practice of the ancient custom which his church has maintained from the time of our lord and predecessor Gregory, Roman pontiff of holy and venerable memory, until now, has received from us—or rather from blessed Peter, prince of the apostles—the primacy of all the churches of Britain, together with the sacred use of the pallium and the venerable dalmatic, and has been sent there. He has worthily obtained this distinction, most beloved brothers, since he received so great a gift not with pride or the swelling of boastfulness, but with a submissive mind and a humble heart. Therefore we exhort your fellowship, dedicated to God, and admonish you with wholesome counsel that, for the love of God and in hope of the recompense to come, you should render to this brother, the archbishop of your region, the honour of service due as though to ourselves, and should know that you must obey him faithfully as the bishop who holds the primacy, not being ignorant of what the chosen vessel says [Acts 9:15]: “Obey those who are set over you” [Hebrews 13:17]. And again: “He who resists the authority resists the ordinance of God” [Romans 13:2]. Therefore, brothers, we admonish you and, by this apostolic authority, command all ranks of orders that no one shall presume, either now or in future times, to oppose those things which were long ago established by this Apostolic See, but that the powers granted to the aforementioned church shall always be preserved inviolate for ever. And because, with divine mercy favouring you, we confidently trust without doubt that you will fulfil those things which we have resolved to commend to the devout purpose of your brotherhood, we beg the ineffable power of our Saviour that He may grant you, always flourishing in devout religion, to rejoice with everlasting gladness, and, rejoicing together in brotherly affection, to be joined through the merits of the saints to eternal blessedness. May God preserve you unharmed, most beloved brothers.”

⁴¹ “Gregory, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to the bishops of England, greetings. We praise the greatness of the immense loving-kindness of Almighty God, who has deigned so to extend the glory of His majesty that “their sound has now gone out into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the whole world” [Psalm 19:4; Romans 10:18]. By the grace of His ineffable loving-kindness, just as we know that we have been created, so also have we been adopted, bearing the mystery of holy regeneration in hope of the glory of the children of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Rejoicing, therefore, with the consecrated fellowship of your Reverences, we exhort you to be found steadfast in faith and effective in works, “preferring one another in honour” [Romans 12:10], and “bearing one another’s burdens”, because in this way “you will fulfil the law of Christ” [Galatians 6:2], maintaining continual charity in the love of God and of your neighbour. The arrival of our brother Tatwin, who has been appointed to the chair of Augustine of blessed memory, your preacher, has therefore greatly rejoiced us, because during the time he remained with us we came to know him as a man of religious devotion and great uprightness. Accordingly, after hearing his petitions, we caused the rights and dignity of his predecessors to be sought in the sacred archives; and, finding that he had asked for what was just, we delivered to him by apostolic authority the sacred pallium together with the venerable use of the dalmatic, granting also all the rights and dignities which his predecessors are known to have possessed from the time of Augustine of blessed memory. Therefore, just as the decree of our holy father Gregory, Roman pontiff, subjected all the bishops of England to the same Augustine, his companion and your preacher, so we, by the authority of God and blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, though unworthy to act in his name and place, subject to you, Tatwin, archbishop of the city of Canterbury, and to your lawful successors, all the churches of Britain and their rulers; commanding by apostolic authority that every person throughout all England obey your canonical commands and know you to be the overseer and primate of the whole island, to whom we have entrusted the exercise of our authority in all things in that region. Your church established at Canterbury, however, as the proper and first offspring of your region in Christ, we hold especially under the protection of our hand; and we desire it to flourish in the tranquillity of peace, and its rights and privileges of dignity to be preserved unimpaired for ever, because it is the first and mother of all the others, having first been established in your region in honour of the Holy Saviour, our Lord Jesus Christ. For it is written: “There is none holy as the Lord” [1 Samuel 2:2]. And where the head is vigorous, the remaining members are strengthened more vigorously. You therefore, brothers, hear and receive these commands of apostolic authority with gladness and reverent submission; and labour in God’s harvest together with our same brother, your archbishop. But if anyone should wish to disturb these things and strive to tear apart and violate the statutes of our decree, let him know that he is striving against the Saviour of the world Himself and the authority of blessed Peter; and therefore, unless he comes to his senses, that he will incur the sentence of eternal condemnation. May God preserve you unharmed, most beloved brothers.”

⁴² “Leo, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to Athelhard, archbishop of the church of Canterbury, in perpetuity. It particularly befits episcopal discretion to grant a hearing to the bishops of churches according to their irreproachable faith, and to grant effect to those things which they desire to accomplish through blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and through us, provided that they do not conflict with canonical decrees; so that, when they have obtained what they desire, they may become more ardent in their love of religion. Your brotherly Holiness is therefore to be exhorted and commended by us concerning the dioceses of England entrusted to you, namely those of bishops and monasteries, whether of monks, clerics, or women; and just as your church possessed them in former times, as we have learned by searching our sacred archives, so we confirm that they are to be possessed by you and your successors. The holy and distinguished preacher Gregory ordained all the churches of the English, and confirmed according to Catholic practice that they should be subject for ever to blessed Augustine the archbishop, his companion, through the sacred use of the pallium. And therefore, by the authority of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, to whom the Lord God granted the power of binding and loosing, saying: “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it; and I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind upon earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose upon earth shall be loosed in heaven” [Matthew 16:18-19]; and indeed also according to the established judgement of the sacred canons, we, though unworthy, acting in the place of that same Peter, bearer of the keys of the kingdom of heaven, grant to you, Athelhard, and to your successors, by an inviolable right, the possession for ever in your metropolitan see of all the churches of the English, through acknowledgement of their subjection, just as they were from ancient times. But if anyone, which we do not desire, should attempt to act against the authority of this decree of ours or of this apostolic privilege, we ordain by apostolic authority that, if he is an archbishop or bishop, he shall be deposed from the episcopal order. Likewise, if he is a priest or deacon, or any other minister of the sacred ministry, he shall be deposed from his order. But if he is numbered among the laity, whether king or prince, or any person great or small, let him know himself to be excluded from participation in Holy Communion. This document of privilege, by the authority of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, whose ministry we discharge, we grant to you, Athelhard, and to your successors to possess for ever. For its confirmation we have subscribed it with our own hands and ordered it to be sealed in our name. We have also ordered it to be written by Sergius, our archivist, in the month of January. Given on the fifteenth day before the Kalends of February, by the hand of Eustace, chief notary of the holy Apostolic See, in the reign of Lord Charles, most devout consul, Augustus crowned by God, great and peace-bringing emperor; in the second year after the consulship of that same lord, in the tenth indiction.”

⁴³ “Formosus, to all our brothers and sons in Christ, the bishops of England. Having heard that the abominable rites of the pagans had sprung up again in your regions, and that you had remained silent, like dogs unable to bark [Isaiah 56:10], we resolved to strike you with the sword of separation from the body of the Church of God. But because, as our beloved brother Pleimund has informed us, you have at last awakened and begun to renew the seeds of the word of God which were long ago venerably sown in the land of the English, we withdraw the blade of deposition and send you the blessing of Almighty God and of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, praying that you may persevere in the good work you have begun. For you are the brothers of whom the Lord says, among other things: “You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its savour, with what shall it be salted?” [Matthew 5:13]. And again: “You are the light of the world” [Matthew 5:14], wishing to signify that through the wisdom of the word the minds of men ought to be seasoned by you, and that in your conduct and life the pursuit of good works should appear like the light of faith, by which those journeying towards life may see how cautiously they should walk, so that, running without stumbling, they may be able to reach the promise of eternal blessedness. Now therefore gird yourselves and keep watch against the lion who goes about “seeking whom he may devour” [1 Peter 5:8], and no longer allow the Christian faith in your region to be violated through a shortage of pastors, or the flock of God to wander, be scattered, and dispersed; but when one dies, let another who is suitable be immediately appointed in his place according to canonical rule. For “there have been many priests, because death prevented them from continuing” [Hebrews 7:23]. David, considering this and foreseeing in the Spirit that the Church of Christ would endure to the end of the age, says: “In place of your fathers sons have been born to you; you shall appoint them princes over all the earth” [Psalm 45:16]. Therefore there must be no delay in appointing another whenever any priest departs from this life; but as soon as the death of a brother has been reported to him who holds among you the primacy of the first see and is known to preside over the other bishops, another, after a canonical election, shall be consecrated and succeed him. Which of you ought to hold the primacy, and which episcopal see should excel the others and possess the primacy, has been very well known from ancient times. For, as we learn from the writings of blessed Gregory and his successors, it is established that in the city of Canterbury is the metropolitan and first episcopal see of the kingdom of the English, over which our venerable brother Pleimund is now known to preside. We permit the honour of his dignity to be diminished in no way, but command him to exercise apostolic authority in all things. And just as blessed Father Gregory ordained that all the bishops of the English should be subject to Augustine, the first bishop of your people, so we confirm the same dignity to our same brother, the archbishop of Canterbury, and to his lawful successors; commanding and, by the authority of God and blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, ordering that all shall obey his canonical dispositions, and that none shall violate those things which have been granted by apostolic authority to him and his successors. But if anyone should at any time strive against these things and attempt to diminish them, let him know that he will undoubtedly be punished with a severe anathema and, unless he comes to his senses, be separated for ever from the body of the holy Church which he is attempting to disturb.”

⁴⁴ “John, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to his fellow brother Dunstan, archbishop of the church of Canterbury, greetings in Christ, with the hope of abiding in everlasting life. If shepherds of sheep are content to endure sun and frost by day and night in guarding their flock, and keep watch with vigilant eyes lest any of the sheep perish by straying or be carried off, torn by the bites of wild beasts, with how much care and toil ought we, who are called shepherds of souls, to keep watch for their salvation? Let us therefore take care to perform our duty in guarding the Lord’s sheep, and not flee in terror as though at the coming of the wolf [John 10:12], lest on the day of divine judgement we be tormented before the supreme Shepherd [1 Peter 5:4] for our own sloth and your negligence; for it is on account of the honour of this office that we are now judged to stand above others in a higher position. We therefore confirm to you in full your primacy, in which, according to the custom of your predecessors, it is fitting for you to exercise the authority of the Apostolic See, just as blessed Augustine and his successors, bishops of the same church, are known to have possessed it. We entrust the pallium to your fraternity according to custom for celebrating the solemnities of Masses, permitting you to use it in no other manner than according to the usage handed down by our predecessors, while the privileges of your church remain in their established condition. Nor is your Prudence, or indeed anyone else, unaware that the honour of the garment will be formidable unless accompanied by moderation in conduct. These ornaments befit the uprightness of your behaviour, so that, with God as your author, you may be conspicuous, and your life may be a rule for your sons, so that whatever crookedness there may be in them may be made straight through it, as they see in it what they should imitate.” And at the end of the letter: “May the Holy Trinity surround your fraternity with the protection of His grace, and so direct you in the way of His fear that, after the bitterness of this life, we may together deserve to attain everlasting sweetness. And this was written by the hand of Leo, archivist of the Apostolic See, in the month of October, in the fourth indiction, on the Kalends of October, in the twelfth year of the supreme pontiff John.”

⁴⁵ These sacred privileges of the holy popes, read in a council of all England, then brought great confirmation to the primacy of the church of Canterbury. Inserted here also, if they can avoid causing weariness to readers, they will not occupy an unsuitable place. Against them Thomas, archbishop of York, had little strength, nor was any wider field for his claims open to him, although he gathered bands of supporters around himself. Nevertheless, he objected that blessed Gregory had granted to Augustine alone that he should have subject to him, by the authority of our Lord God Jesus Christ, not only the bishops whom he himself ordained, nor merely those who had been ordained by the bishop of York, but also all the bishops of Britain. After Augustine’s death, however, there was to be a mutual exchange of honour between the bishops of London and York, and greater honour was to belong to whichever had been ordained first. Gregory had wished Augustine to establish his see at London, but Augustine himself, won over by the affection of King Ethelbert, had remained in Kent. It would not have been difficult for Gregory, had he thought it appropriate, to remove the ambiguity of the controversy in a few words by saying: “I grant these things to you, Augustine, and to all your successors.” But because he saw that this would conflict with reason, he was unwilling to scatter his words to the winds.

⁴⁶ As Thomas proceeded to say these and many other things of this kind, with both the necessity of his defence and his ignorance of antiquity supplying weapons for his argument, Lanfranc brought the dispute to a halt, meeting him with this most vigilant reply: “The opinion on which you rely is lacking in truth, namely that it was granted to Augustine alone to have all the bishops of Britain subject to him, including even those who should be ordained by the bishop of York. It would have been a meagre and altogether narrow gift for an apostolic man to bestow upon his long-standing intimate, newly made an Englishman; especially since, while Augustine was alive, no bishop of York ordained anyone whom Augustine might have had subject to him, nor indeed was there yet any bishop there. For blessed Paulinus, the first bishop of that city, was sent there not in Augustine’s time but in the time of Justus, who was the fourth bishop of Kent. The Deeds of the English will teach anyone ignorant of what I say. Understanding these things, the most holy bishops of the Apostolic See confirmed to Augustine’s successors the subjection of all the bishops of England, as the privileges that have been read testify; adorning what they call Gregory’s constitution with the fullest words and following it with munificent generosity, as judges of the same see and defenders of the same judgement. And they consider it just that all the churches of the English should receive the discipline of life from that place from whose fire they caught the flame of faith. For who does not know that belief in Christ flowed from Kent to York and to the other churches of England? As for what you say, that blessed Gregory could, if he had wished, have confirmed to Augustine’s successors by an express statement what he had granted to Augustine, that is entirely true and cannot be denied. But what prejudice, I ask, does this bring upon the see of Canterbury? I shall offer a similar case. For when our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ said to blessed Peter: “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven” [Matthew 16:18-19], He could, if He had wished, have added: “And I grant the same power to your successors.” Nevertheless, the omission of this statement diminishes nothing of the reverence due to Peter’s successors. Will you oppose these words? Will you answer against them? Indeed, it is implanted in the consciences of all Christians that they tremble no less before Peter’s successors when they threaten than before blessed Peter himself, and gladly welcome their serene kindness when they grant indulgence. And only then is the administration of all ecclesiastical matters valid when it has been approved by the judgement of blessed Peter’s successors. What brings this about except the power of divine liberality, poured forth through the Lord Jesus from blessed Peter into his vicars? Therefore, if you understand dialectic, you will pronounce the same judgement concerning similar things. Moreover, what is valid in the whole is valid in the part; what is valid in the greater is valid in the lesser. The Roman Church is, as it were, the whole of all the churches; the other churches are, as it were, its parts. For just as, from one point of view, man is the genus of its individual members, and yet in each individual the whole nature of man is present in its entirety, so, from one point of view, the Roman See is the genus and whole of all the churches; and yet in each church the complete integrity of the whole Christian faith reigns. It is the greatest of all the churches, and what is valid in it ought to be valid in the lesser churches, so that the authority of the first ruler of any church passes down to his successors, unless something is excepted personally and by name. Therefore, just as Christ said to all the bishops of Rome in Peter what He said to Peter, so Gregory said to all Augustine’s successors in Augustine what he said to Augustine. From this it follows that, just as Kent is subject to Rome because it received the faith from Rome, so York is subject to Kent because Kent sent preachers there. As for your assertion that Gregory wished Augustine to reside in London, that is plainly uncertain. For how can it be maintained that Augustine, opposing the will of his own teacher, acted in rejection of his decrees? Yet I refuse to discredit a tradition confirmed by the agreement of so many. Grant, then, that he might have moved elsewhere; what is that to me, who am not bishop of London? It is of no concern to me, except that the practice of antiquity does not permit you to share the honour of the primacy with the bishop of London. If, setting contention aside and with peace between us, you desire the matter to be examined on that point, I shall not, in accordance with the duty of my office, fail to submit to a just judgement.”

⁴⁷ Thomas yielded to arguments of such weight, and, turning the agreement towards moderation, willingly accepted the condition that the farther bank of the river Humber should be the beginning of his diocese, while the nearer bank should be the boundary of the diocese of Canterbury. Lanfranc rejoiced in triumph and, relying on the victory of his case, committed the proceedings to writing, lest, if recent events were allowed to pass away and be forgotten, posterity should be deprived of knowledge of matters that were necessary. He did so with proper restraint, neither omitting what ought to be known nor becoming excessive in his account, because to indulge in one’s own praises is hateful boasting. Nevertheless, I judge that no one else, however great his ability, could have resolved so great an uncertainty so plainly, even though the justice of Lanfranc’s cause itself might have supported him. For at that time he was exceedingly renowned for learning and worldly wisdom, and was a man whom Pope Alexander regarded with reverence. A very great indication of this honour was that, when Lanfranc came to Rome, Alexander laid aside that lofty Roman pride and respectfully rose to meet him, declaring that he paid this reverence not to his archiepiscopal rank but rather to his mastery of learning. Therefore, having himself done what honour required, he said that Lanfranc ought to do what justice required, namely, according to the custom of all archbishops, to prostrate himself at the feet of the vicar of Saint Peter. Lanfranc rendered what was due, and received such outstanding marks of affection that whatever he thought fit to request he obtained without difficulty. Indeed, through his prayers he restored to office both of his travelling companions, Thomas, archbishop of York, and Remigius, bishop of Lincoln, who had been deprived of their pastoral staffs and rings: the former because he was the son of a priest, and the latter because, having given assistance to William when he came to England, he had been made bishop, purchasing a divine office by military services. For the pope, casting from himself the burden of deciding the matter, transferred the judgement to Lanfranc as to whether their restoration should or should not be made. He himself might restore their insignia if he wished; if not, he might do whatever he judged appropriate. Thus, receiving their staffs and rings from Lanfranc’s hand, they prepared to return joyfully to their homeland with him. Gregory, Alexander’s successor, was no less careful to treat him with affectionate regard, conducting many matters by his counsel and even sharing with his confidence many things unknown to his own household. The truth of this statement is supported by a letter sent to England at the beginning of Gregory’s pontificate, which is found among Lanfranc’s letters. Moreover, King William deferred to him in all things, and rejoiced both in him and in others whom he heard to be fervent in goodness; and he permitted him to assemble councils, of one of which the proceedings are as follows:

⁴⁸ “In the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 1075, in the ninth year of King William’s reign, a council was assembled in London, with Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, presiding, and Thomas, archbishop of York, and the other bishops sitting with him. At that time the church of Rochester was without a pastor. The bishop of Lindisfarne, that is, of Durham, having a canonical excuse, was unable to attend the council. And because for many years past the practice of holding councils had fallen into disuse in the kingdom of England, certain things which had also been defined by the ancient canons were renewed. From the Fourth Council of Toledo, the Council of Milevis, and the Council of Braga, therefore, it was decreed that each should sit according to the date of his ordination, except those who, by ancient custom or by the privileges of their churches, possess more honourable seats. Concerning this matter, elderly men advanced in age were asked what they themselves had seen, or what they themselves had heard truthfully and credibly from their elders and from men of earlier times. In order to make their reply, a postponement until the next day was requested and granted. On the following day, they unanimously testified that the archbishop of York ought to sit at the right hand of the archbishop of Canterbury, the bishop of London at his left, and the bishop of Winchester next to the archbishop of York. If the archbishop of York is absent, however, the bishop of London is to sit on the right and the bishop of Winchester on the left. From the Rule of blessed Benedict and from the ancient custom of houses following the Rule: that monks should keep their proper order and possess no private property. But if anyone should die unconfessed while possessing private property, he is not to be buried in the cemetery. From the decrees of the supreme pontiffs Damasus and Leo, and also from the Councils of Sardica and Laodicea, in which episcopal sees are forbidden to exist in villages, it was granted by royal generosity and synodal authority that bishops should move from villages to cities: Herman from Sherborne to Salisbury, Stigand from Selsey to Chichester, and Peter from Lichfield to Chester. From many decrees of the Roman pontiffs and various authorities of the sacred canons: that no one should ordain or retain another man’s cleric or monk without letters commendatory. To restrain the insolence of certain indiscreet persons, it was sanctioned by common decree that no one should speak in council except with permission granted by the metropolitan, bishops and abbots excepted. From the decrees of Gregory the Greater and Gregory the Younger: that no one should take as his wife a woman from his own kindred, or from that of his deceased wife, or a woman whom a kinsman had had as his wife, until the relationship on either side reaches the seventh degree. That no one should buy or sell holy orders or an ecclesiastical office. That no one should practise lots or divinations. From the Council of Elvira and the Eleventh Council of Toledo: that no bishop or abbot, nor anyone whatever from the clergy, should sentence a man to mutilation of his limbs or to death, or support those who pass such a sentence.”

⁴⁹ Meanwhile, while Father Lanfranc strengthened his character with every virtue and disciplined his mind, almsgiving in particular was, they say, his watchword: “Give alms, and look, all things are clean for you” [Luke 11:41]. Having received this with a cheerful countenance, he is said to have spoken to God amid the acclamations: “Let us vie with one another, then, in mutual exchange: You by giving, I by distributing.” Heavenly goodness answered the prayer of this praiseworthy man, and such abundance flowed to him as could both satisfy and surpass any desire, however great. Nor was he slow in giving it away, driving and shaking off from himself avarice, a vice familiar to the Lombards. Yet he was not an indiscriminate giver, nor was his generosity wasted, for discretion and cheerfulness of spirit seasoned it; and the brightness of his countenance did not fall to the ground, but was most welcome to the recipient, like the sun rising on a new morning, which, after dispersing the clouds, calms the winds and clears the air. Bread, shoes, and indeed everything pertaining to food and clothing were therefore distributed to the poor. Coins were not given, from more mature reflection and deeper counsel, because people of this sort, even with a well-filled purse, may still endure hunger with an empty mouth. And, as though it were something sacred, they avoid giving up a coin for food, lest they diminish their store. For needy clerics and monasteries he amassed an immense quantity of money, often inviting those who were too modest to ask. Nor was the archbishop ashamed, with his clothing hitched up high, to serve food to the poor, or to set scholars of slender means against one another in the contest of disputation. After their arguments both would depart happy, since the victor received the reward of learning and the defeated received consolation for his embarrassment. A devouring fire had not long before consumed the buildings of the church over which he presided, and heaps of fallen walls and shattered roofs increased the ruin. He removed the old foundations and raised everything on a greater scale; you would not know whether the work was more remarkable for its beauty or its speed. For the energy of his rapid work increased the glory of his good intention. At first he housed the monks in makeshift and cramped buildings, and afterwards in elaborate and magnificent ones. It is scarcely necessary to say how many ornaments he gathered there, whether in hangings and sacred vestments, in which, the material itself taking second place, the workmanship of the goldsmiths surpassed the cost of what had been spent, or in paintings of many colours, where, enhanced by the brilliance of the pigments, the visible artistry captivated the mind, and the charm of their beauty drew the eyes towards the decorated ceilings. He restored to his church’s own possession the estates of all the manors which, through either the negligence of his predecessors or the violence of those who had seized them, groaned under foreign control, with the king favouring and supporting him; so much so that he even compelled the king’s own brother Odo, bishop of Bayeux and earl of Kent, by legal judgement to surrender what he was unjustly withholding. For Odo’s changeable and deceitful mind had coveted the possessions of the church of Canterbury and would certainly have ruined them had Lanfranc not stood in his way. His own vigour of spirit prevailed in this, but so too did the favour of the most blessed Dunstan towards him. For whenever in such matters he hesitated, and postponed his judgement in uncertainty lest things turn out badly, Dunstan appeared to him in sleep, revealing the subtleties of his adversaries and showing him the paths by which he might escape them. Indeed, on one occasion when Lanfranc was ill and weary of a life that seemed reluctant to depart, Dunstan rescued him from danger and restored him to good health in a vision in which he seemed to have entered into a wrestling match with him.

⁵⁰ The monks of Canterbury, like all monks in England at that time, were hardly distinguishable from secular men, except that they did not readily betray their chastity. They were distracted by coursing with dogs; they pursued the prey of birds through the air by means of other birds; they rode upon the backs of foaming horses, shook dice, indulged in drinking, enjoyed more delicate food and more elaborate dress, knew nothing of frugality, rejected economy, and did other things of that kind, so that from the multitude of their servants you would have called them consuls rather than monks. When Lanfranc saw this, he remained patient for some time and did not at close quarters terrify these timid men with the harsh snort of severity. For, being most skilled in the art of arts, that is, the government of souls, he knew that habit is a second nature, and that more delicate minds are provoked by a sudden change in conduct. Therefore, by gentle admonitions at intervals, now taking away one thing and now another, he sharpened their untrained minds towards goodness upon the whetstone of the virtues, and polished away from them the rust of vice. Wherever he uprooted seedlings of evil, he immediately sowed seeds of good. Nor did he stop until, casting off their illegitimate offspring, they willingly adopted the natural fruits of the virtues. Today they are more numerous than anywhere else in England, as is fitting, and in religious observance they are not inferior to the Cluniacs. Much of Lanfranc still remains among them: much remembrance of the man, great devotion to God, and gracious courtesy towards those who come to them. His love, common towards all and particular towards each individual, remains and will never be abolished. He never allowed anyone to remain sad, but if he saw anyone downcast, he would immediately ask and enquire into the cause, and when he had learned it, would promptly remedy it. Of his own accord he would offer young men money with which they might meet the needs arising from their own circumstances. If by chance what he had given was lost, he would give twice as much, and would command that this be kept secret from the others. Moreover, he made provision for monks throughout all England, so that they should neither lament the lack of necessities nor fall short of the Rule. For by now the hostility of the bishops had increased, since they wished to drive monks from episcopal sees and introduce clerics in their place. The author of this movement was Walkelin of Winchester, otherwise a good man, but in this matter bent towards evil by the counsels of whisperers. He had already furnished more than forty canons with copes and surplices. He had brought the king over to his view, and the only delay remaining was to obtain the archbishop’s consent; if that had been obtained, there is no doubt that nothing would have prevented it. But when Lanfranc heard of the scheme, he recoiled in horror; and all the devices contrived by so many powerful men he dissolved at a glance like spiders’ webs. Indeed, so that their successors should not dare the same thing, he arranged for Pope Alexander to forbid it in writing. This was a great and praiseworthy achievement: that what the diligent kindness of the saints had begun in the time of King Edgar, Lanfranc did not allow to be shaken. Although it would be an unfair comparison to weigh his achievement against theirs. For they, being the teachers of all England also enjoying the favour of the king, could easily accomplish whatever they wished; whereas Lanfranc alone brought the matter to a successful conclusion and prevailed against so many opponents. Through Abbot Paul, whom he appointed there, he raised the abbey of Saint Alban to the condition in which it now stands. In the bishopric of Rochester, the clerics serving there could scarcely reach the number of four, and even they lacked their daily bread. Supporting them at his own expense through Bishop Gundulf, he introduced as many as fifty monks and arranged for a very substantial manor to be given to them, so that not only should they suffer no want, but should even rejoice in an abundance of provisions. Outside the city of Canterbury, on the northern side, he established stone houses for all the poor, and on the western side wooden houses for those suffering from the king’s disease; he also established regular canons at Saint Gregory’s to perform the divine offices for them, providing separate dwellings according to sex, supplying their expenses, and appointing attendants. Lanfranc devoted himself to works of this kind in the time of William the Elder, suffering few refusals in the things which he thought fit to request from him. For although William was less courteous towards others, towards Lanfranc he was affectionate and gentle. He therefore gave his hand to justice as it laboured, lest it fall headlong; yet Lanfranc often lamented among his friends his weariness of life. From present circumstances he inferred and foretold the ruin that was to come, being a man of shrewd mind and mature age. Nor did his judgement deceive him. For after his father’s death, the younger William succeeded to the kingdom, and when he found Lanfranc little inclined to indulge him, he won him over to his support by great promises that he would uphold right and justice. But once he had gained power, and had struggled through many great anxieties because almost all the leading men had deserted him, he neglected his promises. Therefore, when the archbishop reminded him of his pledge, he replied angrily: “Who can do everything that he promises?” Wearied by these things, Lanfranc did not remain much longer in this life, but after nineteen years as archbishop he contracted a fever; and when the physicians who were consulted replied that a draught was necessary, he first fortified himself with confession and the viaticum. Then, after taking the cup, but with its effect turning to the contrary, he breathed his last, obtaining the kind of death he had always desired. For he used to confess to his household that he prayed to God that he might die either from dysentery or from the onset of fever, because these illnesses neither disturb the memory nor impede speech. He was a man whose diligence Kent will proclaim, and at whose teaching, preserved in his disciples, the Latin world will marvel for as long as the ages endure. For he himself left few monuments of his learning: decretal letters, and especially one against Berengar.

⁵¹ After him the archiepiscopal see remained vacant for more than four years. For the king, more credulous than was right towards the counsels of wicked whisperers, counted all its revenues as his own. But I have spoken elsewhere of such matters, showing, as is fitting, great deference to the royal majesty. At present another task presses upon us: to continue the sequence of events with Lanfranc’s successor. Although I shall recount not the words in sequence but the deeds in summary, I readily yield to Lord Eadmer, who has set everything forth so clearly that he seems in some manner to have placed it before our eyes. I speak of Anselm, who was born in the city of Augusta, the first city encountered by those crossing the Alps, and raised the modest standing of his birth to the highest renown by the torch of his virtues. As a boy he devoted himself to learning; after passing beyond childhood, he never disturbed his chastity even by a wanton glance. His father’s anger gave the young man an opportunity to leave his native land. Since he could soften that anger by no means, he escaped it by departing, lest domestic hostility should pass into a violation of natural duty. Having crossed the Alps, while he anxiously turned over in his mind where he should go, divine favour calmed his uncertainty: he should go to Lanfranc in Normandy, and, if he remained with him, the bond of a common homeland the encouragement of learning would ease his sojourn there. When, therefore, he came to Bec, he was received kindly by Lanfranc and became a great assistance to him in conducting the schools. Meanwhile his virtue increased with his age, and his diligence with his ability. And now the springtime of his age was beginning to advance into the strength of youth, for he was twenty-seven years old, when he was inspired with a desire for the monastic life. Indeed, when still a tender boy he had desired the same thing, harbouring remarkable aspirations within his small body. He had even asked and received from God the affliction of a severe illness, so that both his parents, terrified by it, might vow their son to God. But now he debated at length within himself which would be better, to seek the life of a hermit or that of a monk. If he became a monk, whether it would be more profitable for his soul to enter a wealthy house or a poor one. A wealthy house, certainly, would provide leisure because of the abundance of its revenues, but would bring the weariness of satiety through the abundance of necessities. A poor house, on the other hand, would drive out self-indulgence through labour, but through lack of resources would multiply murmuring. Again, he considered whether it would be better to become a monk at Bec or elsewhere. If at Bec, he would have spent his ability upon learning in vain, since there would be no one there whom he might teach, because Lanfranc’s reputation would overshadow however great his own learning might be. If elsewhere, where few were accomplished in learning, his isolation and singular distinction in knowledge might give rise to pride. After long digesting these arguments within himself, at a suitable time he poured them into the bosom of his beloved Lanfranc. Lanfranc judged that the matter should be referred to Maurilius, archbishop of Rouen, because he was a monk and, through his long experience of the religious life, a discerning judge of every course.

⁵² Why delay? After the arguments had been presented and discussed, the monastic life was preferred to all other forms of religious life, because monks alone live under another’s judgement, submit themselves to obedience, and bid farewell to their own will. Bec was chosen as the place, precisely because there, with a way of life balanced between poverty and excess, neither labour would break him nor ease weaken him, and because comparison with Lanfranc would restrain any pride arising in Anselm. It was not fitting for a monk to trade in fame through learning, or to sell his scholarship through desire for glory. He therefore became a monk there; and after three years, when Lanfranc was transferred to Caen, he was appointed prior by Abbot Herluin. In that office for fifteen years he cultivated his life with every virtue, devoting particular attention to the young, because through the tenderness of their age they could be shaped either towards good by diligence or towards evil by neglect. He became so accustomed to frugality that his stomach, contracted at that time, would later refuse larger quantities of food even if he wished to take them. He rooted out the vice of private possession, in himself by his own resolve and in others by preaching, repeatedly saying that this alone had driven the devil from heaven [Luke 10:18] and man from paradise [Genesis 3:23-24], because they, deserting God’s command, had indulged their own will. Thus, denying indulgence to the independent will of his own mind, he accumulated absolutely nothing outwardly, and so carefully avoided sin of every kind that he used to say that he would rather be without sin in hell than with sin in heaven. The saying was received with applause then; now it needs someone to understand it, but its interpreter must be sought elsewhere. The intensity of his prayers and meditations is shown by the book written about them, dictated, as we believe, by the Holy Spirit, whose abundance he himself had drunk in with thirsty depths of soul; and also by his books of soliloquies addressed to himself and addresses to God, in which he surpassed the thoughts of all his predecessors—or, to speak more mildly, gathered them into one collection. For our belief, which they wish to compel by authority, he strengthens by reason, proving with invincible arguments that what we believe is so and cannot be otherwise. By discretion and patience he won over the minds of his rivals, who resented that he had been preferred to them. By his devoted care for a dead young man, he stirred the sluggishness of all the others towards good and encouraged their diligence. Meanwhile his religious devotion did not remain hidden within his breast without miracles, but God displayed the man’s grace through no small number of signs. One night, while he was considering how God could have shown the prophets past, present, and future in a single moment, the same gift was bestowed upon him. For, with every obstacle of the walls between the dormitory and the church laid open to his sight, he saw the monk whose duty it was rise from his bed and take hold of the bell-rope with which he was to summon the monks to rise. A suppurating affliction of the private parts returned to health at the mere sight of him; a leper, after drinking the water in which his hands had been washed, shed his discoloured skin. By his arrival he granted peaceful rest to a sick man near death, who saw himself surrounded by monstrous wolves and about to be devoured by their beast-like jaws, and was therefore uttering dreadful cries; for when Anselm came, the enemies fled. Another recovered from a disease regarded as hopeless through the sprinkling of blessed water. A third escaped the enticements of the flesh through his blessing. This was Boso, then a young man and afterwards abbot of Bec, who speaks with Anselm in the book Why God Became Man. While still young, having been made a monk by him, he suffered weariness with his recent profession, recognising and lamenting the traces of an old and now long-abandoned flame. Therefore, having confessed his passions to his father, he received only this reply: “May God have mercy on you, my son.” At these words, a serene light flowed into the sufferer’s mind and dissolved and drove away the hardened mass of his vices.

⁵³ After Abbot Herluin died, Anselm undertook a greater office, being elected abbot by all the monks of Bec, although he tried to escape it by many excuses. In this office he devoted himself still more to the virtues, some of which it would seem fitting to mention briefly, for he held this office also for fifteen years. But because my intention is rather to describe those things which pertain to his archbishopric, I shall pass quickly over this part. For the necessity of the work I have undertaken restrains and cuts short delays in the narrative, lest I seem to repeat what has already been treated by a most distinguished writer. Nevertheless, as I have said in other cases, it does not seem unreasonable if I compose a summary of his virtues and works, so that anyone who has not encountered those extensive volumes may be instructed by this brief account. After Lanfranc, therefore, had been received into the other life, churches everywhere in England were plundered and their possessions confiscated. The mother of the churches at Canterbury, assigned to the royal treasury, was preyed upon by collectors appointed yearly and often even monthly. For it would almost have seemed more tolerable if she had groaned under the perpetual dominion of one man to whom she had become accustomed, rather than being subjected to new masters constantly succeeding one another. Amid these things there was a profound silence among the bishops, nor were there dogs able to bark [Isaiah 56:10]. No voice dared give utterance to grief; judgement was strangled within the conscience through fear of one man. For what use is there in speaking when by speaking you merely provoke hatred and gain no advantage? Yet there was some hope that an end might be put to these evils if ever they should see an archbishop of Canterbury who would be the mouth of all, the standard-bearer going before them, and the common shield. A rumour therefore spread among the people, not, as I think, without the purpose and providence of God, that Anselm would be archbishop—a thoroughly holy man, profoundly learned—and that England would be made happy by this man’s blessings. Words of this kind, when they reached his ears, kept him in Normandy for a full five years, although urgent circumstances frequently called him across the sea. Thus the needs of many invited him, but fear held him back, lest, forgetting his good reputation, he should be thought to be carried away by ambition for the archbishopric. At last, when he could no longer delay without harm to souls, he sailed to England, offering the purity of his conscience to God. As for what men might say, that was for them to consider, since, as far as lay with him, he had long avoided their slanders by an honourable way of life. At the same time, the rumour concerning his archbishopric, which had once loomed threateningly over him, had grown cold through the passage of time.

⁵⁴ There were several sound reasons for his coming, but these were the chief ones. He wished to establish the abbey at Chester, which Hugh, earl of that city, particularly wished to fill with monks from Bec. He wished to visit the same Hugh, who had long been ill and, although now at the point of death, refused to humble himself in confession before anyone else and asked for Anselm, intending, if he should die, to entrust to him a pledge of their old friendship. He also wished, by his intercessions with the king, to obtain relief from the dues imposed upon his estates. The first of these matters he settled at once, and, intending to accomplish the third, he made his way to court. Without seeking, as others did, easy means of access, as soon as he arrived he was admitted into the king’s private presence out of reverence for his holiness. When an opportunity for private conversation was given, he immediately disclosed everything for which common report accused the king, and also modestly set forth his own needs. The king settled all the affairs of the church of Bec according to its ruler’s wishes, but laughed away the bitterness of the other matters. He said that he could not prevent the licence of rumour, but that a holy man ought not to believe such things. For at that time he did not wish to repel Anselm with a more insolent answer, knowing how highly his father and mother had been accustomed to esteem him while they lived. Indeed, this too ought to be regarded as something admirable in the king: although he could do everything by force of power, he preferred to turn certain things aside with a jest, treating many matters as occasions for wit without allowing them to affect his inward judgement. For when the bishops suggested to him that he should allow prayers to be offered throughout the kingdom, so that God might deign to inspire him to raise up a pastor for the mother of the churches, he replied playfully, disguising his anger with laughter: “Pray for whatever you wish; I shall do whatever pleases me, because no man’s prayer will ever shake my will.” Again, when Anselm was being discussed in an assembly of the nobles, one man remarked that he alone in their time desired no honour. Then the king said mockingly, “Not even the archbishopric of Canterbury?” When the man speaking with him denied this just as firmly, the king declared that Anselm would strive with hands and feet to obtain that honour if only he could gain the slightest hope of attaining it. “But by the Holy Face of Lucca,” he said, “both he and all who seek the archbishopric will yield to me at this time, because I myself shall be archbishop.” While repeatedly saying such things, he was suddenly seized by the force of a severe illness; and as it worsened, within a few hours he took to his bed. Anselm happened to have withdrawn from the bustle of the court, but, summoned in haste by a messenger sent by the king, he presented himself to him, since the king desired his presence. Having heard his confession with the agreement of the bishops, Anselm instructed him, as he grieved for his sins, to place upon the altar, through the bishops who had then assembled in large numbers, a rod as a pledge and token of amendment; to provide pastors for the widowed churches; to restore exiles; and to release those in bonds. He did all these things with no less ready devotion than if they had been commanded by God. His bitter illness pressed increasingly upon him, and it was feared that punishment for his offences was being demanded of him. Then, at an appropriate moment, the sick man addressed those standing around him concerning the relief of the church of Canterbury, leaving consideration of the matter to the bishops. His words were received with applause, and a cry rose to heaven from those who wished the king well and prayed for his recovery. Nevertheless, the honour of making the decision was referred back to him, and all inclined with ready minds towards assent to the royal choice, so that whoever he pronounced worthy they would certainly receive. Raising himself therefore upon his elbow, he said, “I choose this holy man Anselm,” and a great roar of approval followed. When Anselm heard this, fear swallowed up the calmness of his heart, and at the same time his face grew pale. As he attempted to devise excuses, the bishops took him aside. At first they tried to soften him with these words: he should rejoice at the circumstances, which God Himself had undoubtedly brought about, so that through his archbishopric so many evils throughout England might be cut away and a favourable end put to all the disturbances. He should declare what he wished to be done in the affairs of God, and they would not fail to support him; he should pray to God for them, while they would undertake on his behalf whatever secular matters there might be. He should therefore graciously accept what seemed to have been divinely inspired in the fierce king, lest he become guilty of all the perversities which might thereafter arise in the kingdom. Such were the arguments they put forward. But Anselm, foreseeing what was to come, disposed of all their arguments with an easy reply: he was not suited to so great a burden because of the weakness of his age; it would be presumptuous if any young man attempted so great a labour, much more himself, whose blood was sluggish and whose strength hostile old age had consumed; he knew nothing of secular affairs, nor did he wish to know matters whose preoccupations he had always abhorred since becoming a monk; desiring freedom of mind, he wished to devote himself to the delight of the Holy Scriptures. They wished, he said, to create a discordant pairing, so that the plough of holy Church, which in England ought to be drawn by two strong oxen striving with equal strength towards what is good, namely the king and the archbishop of Canterbury, would instead be twisted from a straight course by yoking an old sheep with an untamed bull. “And I,” he said, “am the old sheep. If I were left in peace, I might perhaps be of some use to some people through the milk of the word of God and the covering of wool; but if you yoke me with this bull, you will see that, because the animals pulling are ill-matched, the plough will not proceed straight. You will therefore gain no advantage from this action; rather, when fear has stopped your mouths, you will see the Church, which you rashly wish to help, deprived of a pastor while its pastor is still alive. Moreover, since I am abbot of another realm, you see how improper and full of ambition it would be for me to defraud the monks whose protection I owe, and to dishonour the archbishop to whom I owe my profession of obedience.” The more he resisted, the more urgently they pressed him, promising a swift remedy for everything he had objected. The king too, when informed of the obstinacy of his refusal, implored him by the friendship he had borne towards his father and mother not to persist in this resolve to the detriment of the king’s soul. Indeed, when everyone had thrown themselves at Anselm’s feet, the king himself also fell upon his face, yet the hero was moved by no tears and enticed by no promises; so much so that he afterwards declared, calling God to witness, that in his distress at that moment, if it were God’s will, he would rather have lost his life than be tossed about in so great a storm of cares. He even appealed tearfully to his own monks who were present for their support, until the bishops, encouraging one another, combined in an assault upon him as though upon an enemy. Some therefore pushed him from behind and others from the front towards the bed on which the king lay, and, seizing his hand, tried to straighten the fingers which he had tightly curled into his palm. After considerable but fruitless effort, since anger and distress had aroused strength in the man, they at last managed to raise his forefinger, and, while he cried out in pain at the violence, they placed the pastoral staff against it. Immediately gripping his hand so that he could not throw it away, they dragged rather than led him into the church and performed the customary solemn rites. And although the joyful voices of everyone singing “We praise you, God” rang in his ears, he cried out as loudly as he could: “What you are doing is nothing; I do not wish it, I do not consent.” Returning to the king, he told him that he would shortly be better, that he himself had not consented to the violence, and that therefore everything which had been done to him in this matter could and ought to be regarded as void. Having said this, accompanied by the nobles, he left the court and went to his lodging, shedding abundant tears and weighed down with great sorrow. By this conduct, which revealed his inward will, he only further strengthened the sick king’s resolve, so that he immediately ordered Anselm to be publicly proclaimed archbishop and invested with all the revenues belonging to the church of Canterbury. Moreover, the city of Canterbury, which Archbishop Lanfranc had held as a benefice, he granted to Anselm outright. This was done in the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 1093, on the sixth of March, the first Sunday of Lent.

⁵⁵ Anselm therefore went to the estates belonging to the church, and the king, having shaken off his illness, recovered. For he pressed on vigorously with what he had begun, in order to establish Anselm in the archbishopric. Messengers were sent to Normandy with letters from the king to the archbishop of Rouen and the monks of Bec, to obtain from them his free release. They too, weighing carefully the reason for what was being asked of them, after various objections had been raised and debated, at last consented. But a quarrel which arose between the king and Anselm delayed his consecration, for the following reason. The king approached him with flattering entreaties, asking him voluntarily to transfer for ever into the possession of his dependants those estates of Christ Church which the king himself had alienated and which they had seized through his gift after Lanfranc’s death. Anselm refused to inflict loss upon a church to which he himself had contributed nothing. The prince’s anger was aroused by this, and what he had previously pursued with the greatest haste concerning Anselm’s episcopate was delayed and almost abandoned. At this Anselm’s noble mind rose in joy, hoping that he was now released from every office of prelacy and could withdraw into a solitary life. For he had already relinquished the abbacy by surrendering his staff, having been absolved by William, archbishop of Rouen. Both then and often afterwards he used to declare that he was fit for no prelacy except the priorship of a cloister, because there he could enjoy quiet and, though unequal to other labours, had a tongue ready to give blessings. But after much time had passed, the king, troubled by everyone’s complaints that the churches were perishing for lack of a ruler, with difficulty persuaded him to accept the archbishopric and by his consent confirm the desire of all. Enormous promises, enough to burden the very air, were poured forth to entice the man and drive him on despite his reluctance. Having therefore, according to the custom of that time, done homage to the king for the temporal possessions, he took possession of Canterbury on the sixth day before the Kalends of October; and on the day before the Nones of December he received the solemn episcopal consecration from all the bishops of England. His prognostic text was: “He invited many, and sent his servant at the hour of supper to tell those who had been invited to come, because all things were ready; and they all began together to make excuses” [Luke 14:16-18]. Not long afterwards the king crossed the sea. In those days there were two claimants to the Roman pontificate, Guibert and Urban, both eminent and distinguished men, neither yielding to the other in personal standing. England wavered in uncertain allegiance, though through fear of the king it inclined more towards Guibert. Anselm had long since accepted Urban as pope, and had acknowledged this with the king’s consent when he was chosen as archbishop. Nevertheless, when the king returned to the kingdom, his attempt to strip his brother of his province having failed, the bishop approached him and asked permission to go to Rome to receive the pallium from Pope Urban. At these words the king, being as always prone to anger, found new grounds for wrath; and, stirred to hostility, declared that Anselm could not keep the fidelity he had promised him if, without his permission, he acknowledged Urban or anyone else as pope. Anselm replied that this matter should be deferred to a fuller assembly and seriously considered: whether he thereby weakened his fidelity to his earthly lord if he acknowledged the vicar of Saint Peter. Great commotion and great deliberation therefore arose on both sides. The king’s reasoning was as follows: “The custom of my kingdom was established by my father, that no one may be acknowledged as pope without the king’s permission. Whoever abolishes the customs of my kingdom violates also the power and crown of the kingdom. Whoever takes away my crown acts towards me with hostility and disloyalty.” Anselm replied: “The Lord thinks otherwise, for He has resolved this question by two commandments and made it free of difficulty. For He Himself teaches what fidelity we owe to the vicar of blessed Peter: ‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church; and I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind upon earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose upon earth shall be loosed in heaven’ [Matthew 16:18-19]. And to all alike: ‘He who hears you hears me, and he who despises you despises me’ [Luke 10:16]. And again: ‘He who touches you is as one who touches the apple of my eye’ [Zechariah 2:8]. What we owe to the king, on the other hand, He declares elsewhere: ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s’ [Matthew 22:21]. I shall therefore, without offence, render obedience in the things of God to the vicar of blessed Peter; and in those things which belong to the earthly dignity of my lord, I shall not withhold faithful aid and counsel according to my knowledge.” In pursuing these matters all the bishops of England refused their support to their primate, behaving like hirelings and deserters from liberty. And as though that were not enough, they renounced all obedience and subjection to him. The instigator and standard-bearer of the faction was William, bishop of Durham, a man of troublesome eloquence and destructive ambition, who hoped to be thrust into the archbishopric if Anselm were driven out; and for that reason he pressed the matter more shamelessly, having promised the king that through his skill Anselm would surrender the office, voluntarily returning his staff and ring. But he exercised his ingenuity against God, since all his counsels and those of the others, though turned over through long and intricate arguments, Anselm crushed with a single reply: if there were anyone who presumed to prove that he denied fidelity to his earthly king merely because he acknowledged the vicar of blessed Peter, he himself was prepared to answer his accuser where and before whom he ought. At this they were still more shaken in spirit, perceiving that the man possessed greater prudence than they had supposed, since he knew that the archbishop of Canterbury ought not to be judged except in the court of the pope. Thus all the subtlety of men polished in counsel struggled in vain against one whom God supported. For whatever they thought ought to be said, he immediately found an answer and broke it apart like spiders’ webs before a violent wind. So unmoved was he in mind and free from anxiety that, while they withdrew into separate groups and weighed his words this way and that, he himself leaned against the wall and gave himself to sleep. His countenance remained the same, his mind unshaken, neither disturbed by anger nor anxious through fear; both he himself confessed the tranquillity of his mind, and the cheerfulness of his face displayed it. The proceedings therefore rose into shouting and fury, the bishop of Durham openly declaring that a man who could not be restrained by reason ought to be overcome by force. The nobles protested, judging far more than the bishops that injury to the archbishop ought to be avoided. Finally, when ordered to renounce their subjection to him, they utterly refused, saying that they were Christians and were unwilling in anything to oppose the will of their archbishop. Although the king took this badly, fear of a greater disturbance made him suppress his anger within his throat. Then, because the bishops’ undertaking had not gone well, he turned back to their counsel, wishing Anselm to be deprived of his staff and ring and driven from the kingdom. But when he could not achieve this by force, and Anselm declared that he would indeed leave England but would not surrender his insignia or his title, everything was postponed in peace from the Ides of March, which had then arrived, until the octave of Pentecost. When the nobles reported this to Anselm, who was already contemplating his departure, he drew a deep sigh and said sorrowfully: “Although from what has passed I am not ignorant of what is to come, nevertheless, lest I seem to press everything according to my own judgement, I embrace peace, and so far as it depends upon me I shall not depart from it. Whoever proves to be the violator of peace must himself consider how he stands before God.” Nor did the man’s apparently casual saying fall short of the truth. For before the appointed time many adversities were inflicted upon him: his chamberlain was seized for punishment before his own eyes, and some of those upon whose counsels he particularly relied were driven overseas. Subtle schemes of malice were devised and put into effect to diminish his honour. Two messengers, exceptional craftsmen in deceit, were sent to Rome without his knowledge and while he suspected nothing, to investigate the state of affairs in the city and prevail upon the pope to send the pallium to the king, to be given to whomever he pleased. Energetically and diligently carrying out their instructions, they brought Walter, bishop of Albano, to England at the command of Pope Urban. Landing at Dover, he came secretly from Anselm to the royal court and satisfied William’s eager mind with enormous promises. If Urban were received in England as pope, whatever the king thought fit to request would be confirmed by the privilege of the Apostolic See. But he offered no support concerning the archbishop’s case; indeed, when asked to expel him, he replied that this was impossible, since a man of most celebrated holiness and learning, lawfully installed in the episcopate and guilty of no offence, could not be removed. Immediately, therefore, an edict was proclaimed throughout the country that Urban was to be called and acknowledged as pope. Hearing this, Anselm wondered at it, when suddenly numerous bishops sent to him arrived. Gradually testing the man to see whether he might now be more willing to yield in order to regain the king’s friendship, and finding him in no way changed, they revealed what had been concealed: that their lord the king, by his own efforts and expense, had obtained the pallium from Rome, and by his own labour had accomplished the business which would have cost Anselm many marks; it was therefore fitting that he should respond to so great a benefit from the prince with a worthy service in return. Anselm groaned that the scheme of deceit had been brought to fulfilment, receiving the bishops’ words with deep sighs; and he denied that he would give anything on this account, because he placed little value upon a benefit whose magnitude they themselves valued so highly. Through these events the king learned that the strength of Anselm’s mind could in no way be weakened, and therefore voluntarily sought and obtained his friendship, with the dignity of Anselm’s resolve preserved. Public authority was then given to him to exercise freely throughout the whole kingdom the right of his primacy, and a day was appointed on which the bishop of Albano should come to Canterbury with the pallium. When he came, carrying the sacred insignia in a silver vessel, the people acclaimed him, and the archbishop, barefoot but clothed in priestly vestments, went out to meet him. The pallium was then taken from upon the altar of the Lord Saviour, and the consecrated bishop placed it upon his blessed shoulders and proceeded to celebrate the divine offices. It was then Sunday, the fourth day before the Ides of June, and some regarded it as a great miracle that the same Gospel occurred on that day which had previously been his prognostic text: “A certain man made a great supper and invited many, and sent his servants at the hour of supper to tell those who had been invited to come, because all things were now ready. And they all began together to make excuses” [Luke 14:16-18].

⁵⁶ Thus, when concord had been established and the king had gone overseas, the serene tranquillity of peace drove cares from Anselm’s mind throughout that whole year and relieved the anxieties of good men. But later, when William returned, the storm thundered again, and once more the tempest of hatred grew fierce. For the king, rejoicing in his fortunate success, immediately marched against the Welsh. Indeed, by the great grace of God attending all his undertakings, he enjoyed such favourable fortune in everything that God seemed to vie with him in bestowing benefits. If he undertook battle, he brought back rich spoils; if he wished to sail upon a troubled sea, the winds immediately laid aside their fury. Anselm saw these things and rejoiced with him, hoping that because of such abundant favour the king would at some point set the Church free. Therefore, when he returned from the Welsh expedition, Anselm intended to approach him gently; but the king forestalled him by assailing the archbishop with reproaches through a messenger, complaining of the small number and inactivity of the soldiers he had sent against the enemy. When this message was brought, all Anselm’s hope of the king’s amendment grew cold. He therefore dismissed the messenger without an answer, lest an exchange of replies should open a field for quarrels. Fortune, stirred up, I believe, by the devil, raged against the bishop, and schemes were being prepared against him for the next royal court. He shattered and drove them all away by asking permission to go to Rome, though he had first tried by many efforts to influence the king’s will concerning the condition of the churches. Wishing, therefore, to discuss these matters with the pope, he asked, as I have said, permission to go to Rome, twice and three times, but in vain. “For I understand,” said the king, “that permission ought to be refused, since I know him to be burdened by no grave sin for which he needs to seek absolution from Rome, nor does he need the counsel of that place, since he lacks no abundance of learning. Indeed, I would rather say that Urban should yield to Anselm’s wisdom than that Anselm has need of Urban. But if he persists more stubbornly in what he has begun, I shall bring the whole archbishopric into my treasury; for he is breaking his promises, by which he pledged his fidelity to me and undertook to preserve all the customs of my kingdom. It is, indeed, contrary to custom for any of my nobles to go to Rome unless chiefly at my sending. Therefore let him either swear to me that henceforth, under no pressure whatever, he will appeal to the Apostolic See, or let him leave the kingdom. Tell him this,” he said, “you who are my faithful men; and if you see that he is willing to abandon his journey, then let him experience the force of the judgement of my court, because he has not feared to trouble me so often over a matter which he is unwilling to carry through to its conclusion.” Anselm, thinking that these matters should not be handled through messengers, went to the king himself and, as was customary, sat at his right hand. He spoke to this effect: “As for your saying that I ought not to go to Rome because I am free from grave sin and abound in learning, although I arrogate neither of these things to myself as true, I nevertheless leave them to be examined by God’s judgement. As for your saying that I promised to preserve your customs, I accept that, but I require the conditions to be remembered. For I said with an exception that I would preserve only those which had been established in accordance with the laws of God and with what is right. As for your saying that I violate my fidelity because, contrary to your customs, I appeal to the Apostolic See, another man, while preserving reverence for your royal authority, would say that this is not true. For the fidelity which I owe to you as king I derive from my fidelity to God, whose vicar is Saint Peter, to whose see I appeal. As for your saying that I ought to swear never again, for any cause, to appeal to Rome, I declare publicly that a Christian prince unjustly demands such an oath from his archbishop. For if by an oath I renounced Saint Peter, I would deny Christ. When, therefore, I deny Christ for any reason, then I shall not delay in making satisfaction to you for the offence of having sought this permission. Perhaps, moreover, when I have departed, God will provide that ecclesiastical affairs will not long serve your profit, as you threaten.” The king and the nobles shouted against him as he spoke, protesting especially that when the preservation of the customs had been discussed, no mention had ever been made of God or of what was right. Then Anselm, with a kindly expression and almost breaking into laughter, said these very words: “Good heavens! If, as you say, no mention was made either of God or of what is right, then of what was mention made? Far be it from any Christian to maintain and defend laws or customs which are known to be contrary to God and to what is right.” Struck on their shameless foreheads by this saying as though by a hammer, they testified to their own injustice by lowering their heads and falling silent. For Anselm was in no way disturbed, but whenever they shouted against him he remained silent, and then returned unmoved to the main point of his argument. Nevertheless, the king could not restrain himself from hurling cruel threats, saying that Anselm would take nothing belonging to him out of the kingdom. But Anselm, fearless, replied: “I shall go on foot and naked if anyone declares that my horses and clothes belong to you.” The king was ashamed of what he had said, and, his face coloured with embarrassment, replied: “That is not what I mean; but eleven days from now, when you reach the port, you will obey my messenger as to what you may take with you and what you must leave behind.” Another man might have become angry, but Anselm remained undisturbed and offered his blessing to the king, who did not refuse it, first saying that he bore the king’s anger with pain and sorrow, but that, if the king would deign to understand it, the course he had begun was directed towards the good of the king’s soul. The bishops evaded this matter just as they had done before. When Anselm approached them for their support, they replied that he was both holy and wise: because of his wisdom he did not need their counsel, but knew perfectly well what ought to be done; because of his holiness he wished and was able without hesitation to carry out what was good. They themselves could not rise against their lord, whose favour they were unwilling to lose because of their honours and their relatives, whom they loved. Since he was free from every stain of worldly corruption and covetousness, he should pursue God’s cause as he had begun; he would have the bishops’ unspoken goodwill, but no assistance from their voices. Although, if there were any hope or any opening for better counsel, it would be preferable to cherish sweet leisure at home rather than, driven from his country and honours, to submit to so great a labour. Thus they all departed, and only two sought forgiveness from him before he crossed the sea, which he graciously granted. Their names were Osmund of Salisbury and Robert of Hereford. After remaining for one day at Canterbury, he took up a pilgrim’s bag and staff, the aids and tokens of a journey, according to custom. From there he came to Dover, where against his wishes he was detained for fifteen days by unfavourable winds. During that time a messenger, said to have been sent by the king, continually shared his lodging and table, but kept the purpose of his coming secret. But when favourable winds at last summoned the ships out to sea, the man, on the king’s command, ordered all Anselm’s bags and packs to be brought out before him and searched. A cruel and pitiable spectacle! The primate of England, the head of all religion and learning, being harassed like a robber. But when nothing was found except the necessary equipment and no money at all, the man who had come, regretting the deed which he had performed unwillingly, allowed him to depart unharmed.

⁵⁷ The south wind carried the ships, once they had set sail, out to sea, at first indeed sluggishly, so much so that, with the wind turning against them, they seemed to be sailing back towards England. Since the father, because of the grief of his heart, could not watch this with dry eyes, he raised his hands towards heaven and drew down assistance from above; for the winds, their fury calmed, smoothed the seas, and the sails were turned towards Flanders. Thus the ships, cutting through the sea with a favourable wind, not long afterwards reached Wissant. His first lodging was with the monks of Saint Bertin; thereafter favour provided for him, with all the bishops and abbots vying with one another to invite him, and even carrying him off against his will. The man’s reputation went before him and breathed upon the hearts of those who heard of him like a gentle breeze. Therefore words fail and speech grows weary in attempting to describe with how much affection he was received by everyone and with how many services he was honoured. It was a remarkable reversal of circumstances: he was more honoured in a foreign country than he had been as a citizen in his homeland, and as an archbishop in his own Church. Hugh himself, archbishop of Lyon, the apostolic legate in Gaul, a man of great name and power and not lacking in religious devotion, when he heard that Anselm was directing his journey towards Lyon, eagerly went to meet him and devotedly attended upon him. On his advice, therefore, Anselm remained there, sending letters to Pope Urban at Rome setting out the whole case. A sudden illness demanded rest; at the same time it seemed prudent for the moment to give way before the brigands who supported Wibert. For a rumour was passing from mouth to mouth that the archbishop of Canterbury had come from England was travelling to Rome to Urban laden with money; an archbishop of England, they said, must be carrying a great deal with him, since England was the most fertile of all countries. Inflamed by these reports, they had already occupied all the roads and taken possession of the narrow passes, lest he escape by any route. It would be a great advantage to their lord if one who supported Urban’s party were captured. Anselm therefore allowed their eagerness to languish for a time through lack of prey, so that, believing themselves deceived in their expectation, they returned home. By this plan he deprived those lying in wait of their prize. By then the messenger had returned, commanding him on the pope’s behalf to come to Rome in obedience, putting aside every excuse. Anselm, who knew not how to resist obedience, and made bolder by his hope in God’s mercy, set out upon the road. His restored health also gave him courage, and his old age, still vigorous and robust and not yet sunk into decrepitude, continued to bear hardship well. Having therefore crossed the Alps, he reached Rome unharmed, without losing either a man or a pack-animal belonging to his company. On the whole journey he faced only one danger, though its outcome became an occasion and source of glory. For the duke of Burgundy, carried away by the same hope as Wibert’s followers, had arrogantly resolved to plunder him. But at the mere sight of Anselm he was softened, cast off all his pride, and recovered his humility. For Anselm captivated those who looked upon him by the sweetness of his gaze, his gentle countenance, and his peaceful grey hairs, so that whoever received the favour of his glance was immediately drawn to love him. Thus the swelling of heart which the words of scoundrels had aroused in the duke subsided when he saw him. Immediately, after receiving a kiss from the bishop, the duke of his own accord asked for his blessing. Then, summoning one of his nobles—for he had come accompanied by many men and with a great commotion—he ordered him to conduct Anselm safely through his territory and to ensure that everywhere he was served no less attentively than the duke himself. Thus, having established friendship, he departed, repeatedly raging against his malicious advisers and declaring again and again that the hatred of God should fall upon the man who had persuaded him to persecute an angel of God. Anselm therefore travelled safely to Cluny, then, as I have said, to Lyon, and from there to Rome.

⁵⁸ The pope received him magnificently and extolled him before the senate with the highest praises. He said that Anselm was the master of the whole Latin world in the liberal disciplines, and that in religion they would find no one his equal. He had suffered many insults because of his fidelity to Rome, and at last had come to him by roads full of dangers and threats of death. He was asking support from one who himself had greater need of Anselm’s counsel. Urban proclaimed such things, while Anselm, lowering his head in embarrassment, kept silent. But when the supreme pontiff had finished his praises, Anselm, being given the opportunity, truthfully set forth his whole case. The pope and the senate alike promised assistance. Letters were written to William, king of England, and it was commanded that Anselm should be restored to all that was his. For as soon as he had crossed the sea, the king had ordered the whole archbishopric to be subjected to his own control and everything that Anselm had established to be made void. The archbishop was ordered to remain near the pope while awaiting the reply to the letters. But he had no desire to remain there long, because the air of that city was unhealthy for foreigners. Therefore he yielded to the request of a certain John, who had formerly been his monk at Bec but had then been appointed by Urban abbot of the monastery of the Holy Saviour, which is near the city of Telese, that he should avoid the summer heat at John’s estate called Sclavia. That estate, situated on the very summit of a mountain and therefore cooled almost continually by breezes coming from either side, has none of the pestilential air. Thus Anselm’s exile pleased him, since he saw restored to him the leisure he had long desired. Therefore, stirring towards God a mind that had long been inactive, he completed there the excellent book whose title and subject is Why God Became Man. He was loved and honoured by everyone, so much so that Roger, duke of Apulia, to whom the king of England had taken care to send letters accusing him, dismissed these trifles and changed his judgement entirely in Anselm’s favour, offering him estates, castles, and finally whatever he pleased, provided only that by remaining there he would bless his land. When he was with the pope, he was regarded as second to him in everything, in processions and in public assemblies; greetings and gifts came to him after the pope. Everyone listened to him willingly, and what he commanded was done whenever he thundered forth divine teaching in his speech; for this especially delighted him, since he declared that the fruit of knowledge is this: that when you speak well, another person gains from your teaching the benefit of living well. He was therefore borne along by a great desire that, having laid aside the burden of the archbishopric, he might devote himself to God. When he earnestly requested this from the pope, the pope utterly refused. “Rather,” he said, “by obedience I command you, wherever you may be, not to lay aside the name and honour of archbishop of Canterbury. It is the mark of a pampered soldier to flee before the battle, nor does it belong to a religious and steadfast mind to yield merely to threats and terrors before suffering any injury.” Then Anselm said: “I do not refuse obedience, Father, nor do I dread blows or even death itself for God’s sake, unless perhaps my own mind deceives me. But what, I ask, am I to do there, where justice not only totters but has already been entirely crushed? Where my suffragans not only fail, through fear, to support the cause of what is good, but through desire for favour actually oppose it?” The pope replied: “It is precisely about these and similar matters that I desire to deal at the council at Bari, where I both wish for your presence and desire your assistance.”

⁵⁹ When they had therefore come to the council, the pope ascended the tribunal before the body of Saint Nicholas, which was surrounded with carpets and hangings, himself wearing a chasuble with the pallium; the others sat wearing copes. Since everyone was claiming his place according to ancient custom, Anselm, supreme in humility, sat wherever he could. Amid the press of the gathering, it had slipped the supreme pontiff’s mind to assign him a place. But he was reminded of his oversight by the necessity of a question proposed by the Greeks, who wished to prove that the Holy Spirit proceeds only from the Father. While the pope, therefore, in attempting to resolve this question, was entangling it still further, with the Greeks replying on the other side not without plausibility, he remembered Anselm and cried out. The strength of his voice, the spaciousness of the building, and the multitude of the crowd echoed the cry: “Father and master Anselm, archbishop of the English, where are you?” When Anselm heard himself being called, he stood up. Addressing him, the pope said: “Now, master, there is need of your learning; there is need of the service of your eloquence. Come, ascend here, and defend your mother the Church, which the Greeks are trying to undermine. Come to her aid, therefore, as though sent here by God.” At once all who were standing and sitting began asking who he was. With those nearest assisting him, he was raised to the pope’s seat and ordered to sit beside the Roman archdeacon, whose custom it is to sit immediately before the pope. “Let us enclose this man,” he said, “within our circle, as though he were the pope of another world.” Without delay, he openly explained to everyone who Anselm was by birth, where his homeland was, how great his learning and eloquence were, how religious he was, and how much he had suffered for his fidelity to the Roman See. Discussion of the question was postponed until the following day, although Anselm would not have hesitated to answer immediately. But on the next day, when the assembly had been gathered earlier than usual, Anselm was raised to a prominent place and so thoroughly examined every aspect of the question, and so penetrated and cleared up its innermost difficulties, that the Latins testified to their joy with shouts, while the Greeks grieved that they were being made objects of ridicule; yet no one departed poor or empty in knowledge. In later years he clearly arranged the substance of that discourse in the book he composed On the Procession of the Holy Spirit. When on that occasion he had finished speaking, everyone turned their eyes and faces towards him: one praised his faith, another his learning, and all his eloquence. When the clamour aroused by his praise had subsided, the supreme pontiff, looking intently at him, said: “Blessed be your heart and understanding, and blessed be your mouth and the speech of your mouth.” Without delay, after being supported by the agreement of all, the pope had hurled the thunderbolt of excommunication against those who held the contrary view when discussion began concerning the king of the English. Crimes dreadful even to speak of were brought forward, and to his contempt for men was added injury against heaven, namely that although he had been admonished twice and three times, he had shown no amendment. Therefore, when the pope, with the support and acclamation of everyone, was already preparing to excommunicate him, Anselm threw himself at his knees, begged for a postponement, and obtained it only with difficulty. This won him no small favour among all who witnessed it, because by the display of true holiness he surpassed even the glory of his reputation. How beautiful it was that he should beg pardon for the man from whom he had suffered so great an insult!

⁶⁰ When the pope had returned to Rome, with Anselm accompanying his retinue, a messenger sent by the king arrived, intending to weaken Anselm’s arguments and refute the charges brought against the king. For the king had cast aside all shame, being swollen with boundless pride, and cared little what was said about him. The envoy addressed the pope in Anselm’s presence in these words: “My lord wonders why it even entered your mind to order Anselm to be restored to possession, when he had plainly warned him that this would happen if he left England without his permission.” “Does he accuse him,” said the pope, “of anything else?” “No,” he replied. “And for this,” said the pope, “have you undertaken so great a labour in coming here, merely to say that the primate of the country has been stripped of all his possessions because he appealed to the judgement of the Apostolic See? If, therefore, you love your lord, hasten your return and tell him that, if he does not wish to be excommunicated, he must quickly cause Anselm to be restored to all his possessions. And lest I leave you uncertain about the deadline, bring his answer in the third week after Easter to the council which is to be held in this city. Indeed, the aggressor would already have been excommunicated if the man he wronged had not interceded for him.” Struck by so unexpected a reply, the messenger said that he would communicate his lord’s private instructions to the pope in secret. For he was eager to accomplish something by which he might establish himself more firmly in the king’s friendship. And so, conducting the business with the skill in which he was practised, by approaching individuals with gifts and promises, he obtained for the king an extension until the feast of Saint Michael. Urban hesitated for a long time before granting this, because in his mind Anselm’s holiness and the offer of gifts struggled against one another; but in the end money prevailed. Does money, then, overcome everything, bring everything low? It was a shameful thing that in the heart of so great a man—I mean Urban—concern for reputation should become cheap, regard for God should give way, and money should pervert justice. Anselm therefore thought it better not to waste his time waiting upon so venal a man, but to return to Lyon. Yet he could not obtain permission, for the pope detained him so that by some consolation he might lessen the odium of what he had done. He therefore made him remain with him at the papal palace until the council, and gave him a house as a permanent right of hospitality. Frequently visiting him there, he discussed both light-hearted and serious matters with him, so that you would have said that they formed one court rather than two. By now the time of the council had arrived, and all the bishops of Gaul were taking their accustomed seats. Since no one remembered any archbishop of Canterbury having attended a Roman council, a seat was assigned to Anselm within the circle, as I said before, and the right to it was granted for ever to him and his successors. The council was held in the church of Saint Peter, with a great clamour among those standing and a large crowd of those arriving. Therefore, because the decrees could not be heard clearly enough, the pope ordered Renger, bishop of Lucca, to proclaim them all to the people in a powerful voice. He rose to perform the duty commanded of him, and the shout he began did not disappoint those straining to hear, but struck and penetrated the hearing even of those standing far away. After he had expounded a large part of the decrees, suddenly, as though stirred in his mind, he introduced words which seemed unrelated and foreign to the business at hand: “But what are we doing? We burden our subjects with commands, yet bring no help to those who seek assistance from us. For this the whole world grieves and complains, because the head of all does not grieve with its members. Look, there sits among us, modestly and silently, a certain man whose silence is a mighty cry before God. For nearly two years now he has awaited the power of the Apostolic See; yet, after all his possessions were unjustly taken from him, what assistance, I ask, has he received? I speak of Anselm, archbishop of England.” As he said this, by striking the staff he held heavily against the pavement, he seemed to emphasise the shamefulness of the matter. At this the pope looked towards him and said: “Cease to be agitated, brother Renger; correction of this matter will be provided.” But Renger, driven by fervour of spirit, after saying, “So it must be, or the matter will not escape the just Judge,” returned to the interrupted sequence of the decrees. Anselm was astonished by these words, since he knew that Renger had not been induced to mention these things by any complaints from himself or his followers. At this council the pope, with the agreement of all, hurled the sentence of excommunication against laymen who invested men with churches, against those invested by laymen, against those who consecrated men so invested, and against those who became the men of laymen in return for ecclesiastical honours.

⁶¹ On the day after the council, the archbishop began his return journey; and, after being exposed to many dangers and hardships, made his way to Lyon through mountainous and wooded country. For he could not take the direct road, because it was reported that Wibert had sent a painter to Rome and caused his likeness to be painted on a panel, so that, whatever appearance he might assume, he could not remain hidden. Having therefore reached Lyon, he experienced Hugh’s accustomed kindness, as though he were the lord of the place rather than a stranger. The bishop offered him, without being asked, full authority both within and outside, and compelled him to exercise it as he wished: primacy in assemblies, affection in private, reverence in public, and service in everything. He relieved his cares and shared his honours with him, or rather surrendered them all to him; so much so that when Anselm celebrated Mass he served him in the place of a suffragan, and whenever Anselm preached he sat at his feet. Hugh was a magnanimous and steadfast man, who dared to despise wealth and challenge fortune. Father Anselm therefore remained there for as long as Urban and William survived. Not long afterwards death carried them both away. When Anselm heard of the king’s death, he shed tears, signs of affection and expressions of devotion; and, immediately invited by the new king Henry, he honoured England with his return. There too, often meeting at the king’s wish with nobles who were wavering in their allegiance, he called many back to the right course. Those conscious of guilt were afraid; the others, looking towards him openly and with lively eyes, even acclaimed him as he spoke. At last, when the king’s brother Robert had now landed and many were contemplating desertion, Anselm, with the whole army standing around him, climbed to a higher place and addressed the people. Stirred by his words as though by the blast of a trumpet, the troops, raising their voices, promised goodwill and loyalty to the king, provided that he abolished the evil practices established under the younger William and enacted good laws. The king offered Anselm to them all as guarantor that these things would be done, and pledged his faith by placing his hand in Anselm’s. Thus they were all inspired with a more ardent spirit of loyalty towards the king, so that, if necessary, with united purpose and devoted hands they would rush upon the sword for him. When this became known, Robert, who had come relying more upon the disloyalty of others than upon his own ability, abandoned the battle and withdrew from the undertaking; and he who had presumed upon the hope of gaining the kingdom willingly embraced the peace offered to him and gladly returned to the affection of brotherly kinship.

⁶² Nevertheless, when the king, following the custom of his predecessors, demanded homage from the archbishop, and Anselm refused because of the excommunication pronounced at Rome, messengers were sent to Rome by both sides. Meanwhile Anselm was ordered either to do homage to the king or, without further delay, to leave the kingdom. “Rather,” he replied, “let the apostolic letters be examined, and let what their tenor contains be done.” For the messengers had now returned from Rome and had worn out the road to no purpose, because Pope Paschal upheld the judgement of his predecessor with unshaken firmness. “What have the pope’s letters to do with me?” said the king. “I do not wish to lose the rights of my kingdom.” As the discussion developed into a dispute, Anselm declared that he would not leave the country, but would go to his own church and see who would inflict violence upon him or his people. Thus they parted on that occasion; but in the following days gentler letters came to the man from the king, asking him to present himself at court in a peaceful frame of mind, since, after a discussion between them, the whole dispute would be settled. Anselm did not refuse to come, in case perhaps God by His inspiration had touched the king’s heart. Once again, therefore, by common agreement, envoys were sent to Rome to try either to soften or to rescind such severe commands. On the bishop’s side were the monks Baldwin and Alexander; on the king’s side, Gerard, archbishop of York, and the bishops Herbert of Norwich and Robert of Chester. But the former were also pressed by a private matter: Gerard concerning the acquisition of the pallium, and Herbert concerning the annulment of the privilege of the abbey of Saint Edmund, which Abbot Baldwin had obtained for that monastery from Pope Alexander with much labour. The privilege was that the abbot of that place should be subject neither to the bishop of Norwich, in whose diocese it is known to lie, nor to anyone else except the primate of England. Herbert, intent on overturning this, left his companions—I know not by what misfortune—and, taking a different road, fell into the hands of robbers. But after paying forty marks, he escaped captivity and regained freedom to continue his journey, having first been compelled to swear by everything that is called holy to Guy—for that was the name of the leader of the bandits—that he would do nothing at Rome which might be to the disadvantage of his lord, Archbishop Anselm. Having therefore paid the money, he hurried after his companions with greater freedom, since his purse was lighter.

⁶³ Reunited, they continued their journey and, having been admitted into the pope’s presence, did everything they could, both with gifts and promises, to bring the king’s wishes into effect. But in vain. He remained inflexible, unwilling, as he said, to weaken the statutes of the holy fathers for the will of one man. This labour therefore achieved nothing except to sow disputes in the kingdom, since the envoys disagreed among themselves. For the king thought that the letter brought to him by the bishops should be concealed, because he saw that it opposed his wishes. But he made public only their bare words, in which they asserted on their episcopal word that the pope would tolerate the king’s investitures with equanimity, provided that he fulfilled the other duties of a good prince. The reason, they said, why he had been unwilling to put this in writing was lest the other princes, seizing the opportunity, should raise an outcry against him. The monks, on the contrary, openly cried out that fraud was being woven around the apostolic commands. For the letter which they had brought to Anselm was already being read publicly, in which Paschal was shown not only to refuse to permit investitures, but also to insist firmly upon the decrees of Urban and admonish that they be observed. The whole court therefore resounded with murmuring that no attention should be paid to monks, who would gladly obscure the truth with false colouring so long as they pleased the archbishop. The rank and word of bishops carried great weight; monks had forfeited the right to give testimony in secular matters. “But this,” said Baldwin, “is a secular matter.” Then the nobles said: “We know you to be an upright and prudent man, and not one of those whose evil lives bring disgrace upon your order in the eyes of the great multitude; nevertheless, both human and divine reason require that the testimony of three bishops should be believed rather than that of two monks.” For a long time, therefore, Anselm’s judgement wavered as to which way it should incline, because openly rejecting the bishops’ testimony seemed presumptuous, while refusing to believe a letter bearing the apostolic seal seemed foolish. Having strengthened his resolve, he replied that he would send to Rome in order to learn the certainty of the matter. Meanwhile, he would neither refuse his communion to those who received investiture nor bestow his blessing upon them. Roger, the king’s chancellor, had been elected to Salisbury, and Reinelm, the queen’s chancellor, to Hereford. William also, while Henry’s power was still new, had been forcibly elected to the bishopric of Winchester, not consenting to his election but rather assailing those who elected him with harsh reproaches and threats. But when Anselm returned, William both received the pastoral staff from him and was introduced by him into the church. He therefore willingly gave his consent to receive consecration from Anselm. The king, somewhat more angered by this, entrusted the consecration of them all to Gerard of York. Nor would Gerard have hesitated, had not the men elected refused for a higher reason. Reinelm immediately returned the ring and staff to the king and relinquished the bishopric. William did likewise, except that he did not return the ring. Roger, with commendable prudence, handled the matter in such a way that he neither provoked the king nor wronged the archbishop.

⁶⁴ Thus, since Anselm would in no way abandon what he had begun, and said that not even at the cost of his life would he act contrary to the decisions of the Apostolic See unless a remedy of release came from that same See, the whole storm of the struggle fell back upon him. He was approached by the king, the bishops, and the nobles, who asked him to deign to go to Rome himself and by his presence make good what others had accomplished inadequately. What he desired would not fail to take effect, since the Apostolic See held him in such high regard. He should only undertake this labour for his country, so that he might restore peace to the Church and dignity to the kingdom. He, being one who knew how to yield to entreaties, consented, lest he should seem to presume upon his own judgement alone in everything; he would go, so as not to oppose the wishes of all, since the inadequacy of their envoys had at last driven them to rely upon a single old man, burdened with years and weak in body. They should know, however, that he would suggest nothing to the pope which would diminish the honour of his predecessor or break his decrees. “Only go,” they said, “and in the pope’s presence, if the envoy speaks the truth, support him with the testimony of your authority.” Agreement having been reached, they parted from one another. Anselm immediately crossed the dangers of the sea with favourable winds and, with good fortune also, completed the journey by land as far as Rome. There, received with the pope’s favour and by a large gathering of the Roman nobility, he spent a few days in silence and rest at the pope’s command. When rest had restored his strength, on the appointed day he entered the Lateran palace. The envoy was also present, having arrived a few days before him and by then well known in Rome: William of Warelwast, bishop-elect of the church of Exeter. Exerting all the powers of his eloquence, he argued the king’s case, asking that all the customs of his father and brother should be restored to him. England, he said, was a province particularly belonging to the Roman Church and paid it tribute every year; the king was as generous as he was high-spirited; it both seemed to him and truly was a disgrace if he should lose the rights of his predecessors, whom he himself far surpassed and overshadowed both in greatness of spirit and abundance of wealth. The pope should therefore have regard for the king’s honour and consider his own advantage, since he need not doubt that a great quantity of money could be extracted from the king, were he not to think himself restrained by the severity of the canons. By these and other arguments relevant to the case, the Roman court was brought round to the opinion that the king’s wishes ought to be fulfilled, and declared this with vigorous expressions of support. Meanwhile both bishops remained silent, prudently observing the bombast of the advocate and the empty flattery of his supporters, and secretly mocking them. Then the envoy, thinking that their silence signified consent, confidently burst out: “Many arguments may be exchanged on either side, but this is the substance of the matter: my lord will not suffer the investiture of churches to be taken from him, even at the cost of losing his kingdom.” “And I,” said the pope, “will not allow him to possess the right of investiture with impunity, even to ransom my own head.” At the force of these words, the tongues of his supporters turned and changed to the opposite side. “Blessed,” they said, “is the steadfastness of your heart; blessed is the speech of your mouth.” The envoy, put to confusion, fell silent. Nevertheless, he succeeded in obtaining for the king the relaxation of certain customs of his father; and while the king himself was for the time being exempted from excommunication for having invested certain men, those who had received investiture remained subject to the severity of the canons, their satisfaction being entrusted to Anselm’s judgement.

⁶⁵ When Anselm had received permission to return, the other man excused himself from returning, saying that he was bound by a vow to go to Saint Nicholas. But his intention was different from what he said. For he was striving somehow or other to turn the pope from his decision. When he saw that this was leading nowhere, he took a shorter route and got ahead of the archbishop at Piacenza. They therefore travelled together for several days. But when a parting of the roads separated them, William disclosed what he had previously concealed, saying: “My lord sends you this message: if you conduct yourself towards him as your predecessor conducted himself towards his father, he will gladly welcome your return to England; if not, I am speaking to a wise man—you know what will follow.” Thus William hastened towards England, while Anselm made his way to Lyon. From there he sent letters to the king seeking clarification concerning the truth of William’s words. I have not thought fit to weave in here the series of letters, which extends to immense length: those of the pope to the king and to Anselm, of Anselm to the king, and of the king to Anselm. For those who wish to read them, Eadmer’s book will provide them in abundance. That man included them so that no one might accuse him of falsehood and so that his own account might derive unassailable strength from them. For he had leisure enough, being intent solely upon setting out Anselm’s deeds in detail; I have undertaken a greater work and am attempting to deal with the deeds of many, and therefore, touching only upon what is necessary, I intend to spare my readers weariness.

⁶⁶ The king therefore seized the archbishopric, though with greater restraint than his brother, entrusting the administration of the church’s possessions not to outsiders but to the archbishop’s own men. Anselm, however, remained at Lyon for a full year and four months. Throughout all that time he obtained nothing from the pope except letters of persuasion, and nothing from the king except reasons for delay. For royal messengers frequently went to Rome and returned without effect, except that they obtained certain postponements which prolonged the good man’s exile and hindered the correction of affairs. Therefore, perceiving the state in which the fortunes of his cause stood, his heart, rich in compassion, was at last stirred towards punishment, and he contemplated excommunicating the king. When the king learned of this through a letter from his sister Adela, countess of Blois, he prevailed upon Anselm by entreaties to come with the countess to Normandy, where he himself then was. Anselm came, and with the king showing him much favour, he was restored to possession of everything that was his; but his passage into England was delayed because he was unwilling to communicate with those who had received investiture. The king therefore went to England, while Anselm turned aside to Bec. The envoys William of Warelwast and the monk Baldwin, sent to Rome, settled with remarkable integrity the controversy which had been agitated for so many years. For the pope conceded that the king might receive homage from those elected, but that he should invest no one with staff and ring. While the messengers were delayed, frequent complaints were brought to Anselm from England concerning crimes springing up everywhere in excessive numbers, and he was urged to hasten his return, especially by the bishops, who had now grown weary of those very crimes. For the king was also contemplating punishing with a financial penalty the priests who had violated the Council of London, which had been held before Anselm’s departure; those priests, I mean, who after the council had either brought new women into their homes or recalled their former ones. Anselm, however, judging this intolerable, wrote to the king asking him to refrain from this exaction, because the offences of ministers of the Church ought to be corrected by the diligence of bishops, not of secular men. The king, whose judgement, through his own prudence and the counsel of Robert, count of Meulan, had now become purified and mature in all things, graciously accepted the wholesome advice and replied mildly. He would soon come to Normandy, and if he had done wrong in these or other matters, he would correct it in obedience to Anselm. When therefore the messengers returned from Rome, the king, seeking no great delay, met Anselm at Bec. Thus all the matters which until then had drawn them in opposite directions were at that time, by the grace of God, brought forward and settled. For the churches which William, Henry’s brother, had subjected to payments, Henry himself restored freely into Anselm’s hands, and promised that he would take nothing from them while they lacked a pastor. He made good the loss of those priests who had paid money by exempting them from all payments for three whole years; those who had refrained from paying were to pay nothing thereafter. He also promised, giving a pledge, that when Anselm returned to England he would restore everything that had been taken from the archbishopric.

⁶⁷ When Anselm therefore was carried to England by favourable winds, the good hope which the people of the country had placed in him did not disappoint their desires. For immediately those who farmed the revenues of churches were expelled, simoniacs condemned, the concubinage of priests forbidden, unions between blood relatives broken up, and many other unlawful practices of this kind, which previously had gone unpunished, were corrected. To the serenity of the times was added the king’s good fortune, for at that time in Normandy his brother Robert was captured by him and cast into chains, together with many others whom he either already hated for their troublesome conduct or feared because of their rebellion. He seemed to be repaying his brother with the retaliation that was due, because Robert had disturbed him while his kingdom was at peace; at the same time he judged him less capable of governing the commonwealth because of the mildness of his disposition, since he saw that Normandy, the native land of them both, was being ravaged by the most wicked marauders and that Robert did not know how to defend it. The king immediately announced to Anselm by letter his joy at this victory; and it does not seem inappropriate to insert that letter here, because of the singular evidence it gives of the king’s devotion.

⁶⁸ “Henry, king of the English, to Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury, greetings and friendship. We inform your Fatherhood and Holiness that Robert, count of Normandy, together with all the forces of knights and foot-soldiers whom he was able to gather by entreaty and payment, fought fiercely with me on the appointed and determined day before Tenebrarch; but at last, by God’s mercy, we were victorious, and without great slaughter among our own men. What more need I say? Divine mercy has delivered into our hands the duke of Normandy, the count of Moreton, William Crispin, William of Ferrers, Robert of Stuteville the elder, and as many as four hundred other knights, together with ten thousand foot-soldiers, and Normandy itself. But there is no number of those whom the sword destroyed. I attribute this, however, not to pride or arrogance or to my own strength, but to the gift of divine providence. Therefore, venerable father, as a suppliant and devotedly prostrate at the knees of your Holiness, I beg you to pray to the heavenly Judge, by whose judgement and will this glorious and beneficial triumph has befallen me, that it may not turn to my condemnation and loss, but to preserving and strengthening the condition of the holy Church of God in tranquil peace, so that henceforth she may live free and be shaken by no storm of wars.”

⁶⁹ Here one may contemplate how great a capacity for good there was in the king’s heart, if anyone had kindled those sparks of an honourable faith by the encouragement of words and stirred them to greater strength by good admonitions. The king therefore came, splendid with his exalted trophy, and entered England in triumphal glory; and he surrendered to Anselm for ever the investitures of churches, while Anselm in turn conceded that no one should be barred from consecration because he had done homage to the king. Accordingly, five bishops were consecrated by Anselm at Canterbury on the third day before the Ides of August: William to Winchester, Roger to Salisbury, Reinelm to Hereford, William of Warelwast to Exeter, and Urban to Glamorgan. The suffragans of the primatial see were also there in attendance: Gerard of York, Robert of Lincoln, John of Bath, Herbert of Norwich, Robert of Chester, Ralph of Chichester, and Ranulf of Durham. Thus through the venerable Anselm the liberty of the churches returned and serene peace shone forth. As for the decrees of the councils celebrated by him, however, there is no need to say anything, since it is known that they have all become obsolete and fallen out of use. Hence it is thought to have happened not by chance but by divine design that both at his consecration and at his reception of the pallium there was read: “He sent his servant at the hour of supper to tell those who had been invited to come, because everything was ready; and they all began together to make excuses” [Luke 14:17-18]. For in none of the things which he taught by preaching or forbade by threatening punishment was he effectively obeyed; instead, an excuse was put forward in almost every case. But, following the example of the servant in the Gospel, who by going out twice filled the banqueting hall with those who had not been invited [Luke 14:21-23], Anselm himself, by twice departing from England, through his preaching carried to heaven rich gains of souls. Nevertheless, lest I seem to deprive diligent students of these matters, I shall consider it no great burden to spend some effort in setting down the text of the council.

⁷⁰ In the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 1102, the fourth year of the pontificate of Pope Paschal, and the third year of the reign of Henry, glorious king of the English, with the king’s approval and by the common consent of the bishops, abbots, and princes of the whole kingdom, a council was assembled in the church of Saint Peter situated on the western side near London. Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all Britain, presided over it, together with the venerable men Gerard, archbishop of York, Maurice, bishop of London, William, bishop-elect of Winchester, and other bishops and abbots. At Archbishop Anselm’s request to the king, the leading men of the kingdom also attended this assembly, so that whatever was decreed by the authority of the council might be firmly observed through the united care and diligence of both orders. This was necessary because, for many years past, with the holding of synods having ceased and the thorns of vice having sprung up, the fervour of the Christian religion had grown exceedingly cold in England. First, therefore, by the authority of the holy Fathers, the encroachment of the heresy of simony was condemned at this council. Those found guilty of this offence were deposed: Guy of Pershore, Wimund of Tavistock, and Aldwin of Ramsey; and others who had not yet been consecrated were removed from their abbeys, namely Godric of Peterborough, Haimo of Cerne, and Egelric of Middleton. Others, however, were removed from their abbeys without any charge of simony, each for his own particular cause: Richard of Ely, Robert of Saint Edmund, and the man who was at Muchelney. It was also decreed that bishops should not undertake the office of judging secular lawsuits; that they should wear garments befitting religious persons rather than laymen; and that always and everywhere they should have respectable persons as witnesses to their manner of life. That archdeaconries should not be let out for payment. That archdeacons should be deacons. That no archdeacon, priest, deacon, or canon should marry a wife or retain one already married. Any subdeacon who is not a canon, if he has married a wife after making a profession of chastity, is to be bound by the same rule. That a priest, for as long as he maintains an illicit relationship with a woman, should not be regarded as lawful, nor celebrate Mass, nor, if he does celebrate it, should his Mass be heard. That no one should be ordained to the subdiaconate or above without a profession of chastity. That the sons of priests should not inherit their fathers’ churches. That no clerics should act as stewards, administrators, or judges in cases involving bloodshed for secular men. That priests should not go to drinking-parties, nor drink to marked pegs. That clerics’ garments should be of one colour and their footwear proper. That monks or clerics who have abandoned their order should either return or be excommunicated. That clerics should have their tonsures plainly visible. That tithes should be given only to churches. That churches or prebends should not be bought. That no new chapels should be built without the bishop’s consent. That no church should be consecrated until the necessary provision has been made both for the priest and for the church. That abbots should not make knights, and that they should sleep and eat in the same house as their monks unless prevented by some necessity. That monks should impose penance upon no one without the consent of their abbot, and that their abbots cannot grant them permission to do so except in the case of those whose souls they have under their care. That monks should not become godfathers, nor nuns godmothers. That monks should not hold estates at farm. That monks should receive churches only through bishops, and should not so strip churches given to them of their revenues that the priests serving there suffer want in those things necessary for themselves and for the churches. That a pledge concerning marriage given secretly between a man and a woman and without witnesses, if denied by either party, should be regarded as invalid. That those who wear their hair long should have it cut so that part of the ears is visible and the eyes are not covered. That relatives within the seventh degree should not marry, nor, if already married, remain together; and that anyone who knows of such an incestuous union and does not disclose it should know himself to be a participant in the same offence. That the bodies of the dead should not be carried outside their own parish for burial, thereby depriving the parish priest of what is justly due to him from it. That no one, through rash innovation, should without episcopal authority show the reverence due to holiness towards the bodies of the dead, springs, or other things, as we know has happened. That no one should henceforth presume to engage in that wicked trade by which, until now, people in England were accustomed to be sold like brute animals. Those who committed the sin of sodomy, and those who willingly assisted them in it, were condemned at the same council under a severe anathema until they should merit absolution through confession and penance. It was further decreed that anyone publicly convicted of this offence, if a person in religious orders, should never again be promoted to any higher degree and, if he already held one, should be deposed from it; but if a layman, he should throughout the whole kingdom of England be deprived of the lawful status belonging to his condition. And lest anyone other than a bishop should henceforth presume to grant absolution from this offence to those who have not bound themselves under a religious rule. It was also decreed that throughout all England, in every church and on every Sunday, the same excommunication should be renewed.

⁷¹ Thus in Anselm, until the end of his life, there endured an unconquered vigour and a fervour of devotion. He died in the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 1109, the ninth year of Henry’s reign, the seventy-sixth year of his age, and the sixteenth of his pontificate. He was buried at first at the head of his predecessor Lanfranc, but afterwards received a more worthy tomb in the eastern portico. He was a man who surpassed all whom we have seen in wisdom and religious devotion. So free was he from sins that a most truthful man, very well known to me, told me that after he became a monk he had never been so driven by the spur of anger as to hurl abuse at anyone, except that on one occasion alone he had fallen into this fault. He had never uttered more than one remark whose memory had wounded his conscience. Once at supper, remembering that he had eaten raw herring, he struck his breast and lamented his sin, because he had consumed raw flesh contrary to the rule. But when Eadmer, who was sitting beside him, said that the salt had cooked the rawness out of the herring, Anselm replied: “You have healed me, so that I need no longer be tormented by the memory of a sin.” A steadfast guardian of obedience, although as archbishop he possessed freedom of authority, he asked Pope Urban to appoint someone over him according to whose commands he might order his life. Urban appointed Eadmer; and Anselm regarded his commands so highly that, once Eadmer had settled him in bed, he would not only refrain from rising without his command, but would not even turn onto his other side. In ordinary conversation too his eloquence flowed like a rushing torrent, and even while eating he never ceased from speaking of divine things. He took particular delight in testing the intelligence of those listening to him by questions he proposed, dealing with almost everything by means of comparisons of his own devising or using them to parry the objections of others. Yet in secular affairs he deliberately presented himself as slow-witted, for when he was troubled by the turbulent storm of such business, even his bodily strength would fail him. When the members of his household saw this, they would remove the crowds and arrange for someone to sharpen his sluggish mind upon the whetstone of some little question. At once, with his mind awakened and his eyes sparkling, he would turn towards the questioner and recover the strength of both mind and body. How deeply he penetrated the hidden recesses of human and divine understanding is shown by his books, towards which, now that envy has long since passed away, the favour of the Latin world has succeeded.

⁷² Nor indeed did the burden of the episcopate and the weight of so many affairs put an end to his customary miracles. By extending the saving sign, he subdued both ordinary fires and fires caused by lightning, which were already consuming neighbouring buildings, and reduced them to ashes. Campania marvelled when a new spring bubbled from a rock, after the stone, hollowed by his blessing, poured forth water. A little hare, surrounded by its enemies, escaped unharmed when it sought refuge beneath the feet of the animal on which the saint was riding. At his command the gaping pursuers lost their barking, and at the same time their attempts to run were frustrated. By applying his spittle, he filled the empty eyes of a blind woman with the brightness of clear sight; bread given by him checked the shivering of a man suffering from fever. When he had already breathed his last, Ralph, bishop of Rochester, who was present, asked Baldwin whether he had any balsam, or even a few drops, with which at least the head might be anointed so as thereafter to escape the blemish of corruption. Baldwin produced a small vial, at the bottom of which the tiniest quantity remained. All the fragrant liquid there was was therefore poured into Eadmer’s hand, and it scarcely moistened half his palm. When this had quickly been used, he marvelled that as much again had flowed out. Nor did the greedy demander cease repeatedly to press the miracle further, until he had thoroughly covered the whole body in every part with balsamic ointment. And, that you may admire the deed still more, although the vial had been emptied so many times, now with its belly lowered, now with its side tilted, when the solemn office of anointing had been completed it was found to be more than half full. On the following day, when the body was being prepared for burial, they found that the stone intended to receive it had carelessly been hollowed out almost a full handbreadth too short. While everyone murmured, because another suitable stone could not easily be found and they were unwilling to do injury to the instrument of the Holy Spirit by bending the body, suddenly they saw that the stone was of suitable size and that the body, without the assistance of any hand, had fittingly slipped into the tomb. Joy arose among those standing by, and their shout struck the stars; this was prompted not so much by the greatness of the miracle, though worthy of proclamation, as by the swiftness of aid which had not even been sought. On the eleventh day before the Kalends of May he passed into the other world; yet he did not leave those who loved him in this world without assistance. He still fights on behalf of those who invoke him, and scarcely anyone approaches his tomb with confident hope who does not return having obtained the full effect of his prayers. Remarkable is what happened recently at Lyon. There were two elderly female recluses there, than whom none were holier and none more harmonious. While Anselm was staying there, he graciously visited them and frequently poured forth admonitions to virtue. But after his death, a quarrel arising between them over a trifling matter, as is the way with women, broke their peace and tore apart their harmony. Gradually matters therefore proceeded to worse, until they spent their days and nights in mutual resentment and the bitter goads of reproaches. Fury armed their tongues; anger supplied the insults. Both indeed were entangled in a common folly, but the guilt weighed more heavily upon the one who had begun the quarrel. Anselm appeared to her at night, greatly changed from that gentleness of countenance which she had seen in him while he lived. His sternness gave authority to his words, a severity seemingly drawn from afar and foreign to him. “Finely indeed,” he said, “have you kept my admonitions, which either the sanctity of your profession or your affection for my diligent care ought to have commended to you for observance. Now you sow quarrels and provoke hatred, forgetful of your reputation, of the reverence due to me, and of the spiritual progress of you both. Why have you wearied me across such great distances of land to come to you, so that, if you cease, I may restore peace, but if you persist, I may threaten punishment?” This vision softened the contentious women’s minds and calmed their swelling anger. On the following night, when after continual tears sleep had laid the weary woman down, it prolonged her heavenly vigil. For when the clouds of earthly sensation had been removed, she clearly seemed to stand in the presence of our Lady Saint Mary. At her command she sat at her feet. And when the Lady’s graciousness gave her leave to ask whatever she wished, emboldened by this happy opportunity, she asked concerning Hugh, archbishop of that same city, who had recently died, what hope there might be for him. “It will soon be well with him, daughter,” she said, “through the mercy of God, and his release is already at the door.” “And what should I know concerning my lord Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury?” “Concerning him,” she said, “do not doubt in any way that he is in the great glory of God.” Let no one, I beg, receive these words with laughter as fabrications of old women’s dreams; let no one pursue them with mockery. For it is certain that those women, both in every rigour of abstinence and in the wholesome contrition of their minds, were never inferior to any of the saints.

⁷³ Therefore, after Anselm of venerable memory, escaping the bonds of his earthly body, had said farewell to this life, the archbishopric remained vacant for a full five years. Throughout this whole period, when the king was admonished to provide for the widowhood of his mother the Church, he put the matter off with a mild reply, saying that “the archbishops whom his father and brother had appointed had been excellent men, and he did not wish to fall away from the good fortune of his family; therefore the matter ought to be considered with great scrutiny, so that he might appoint as archbishop one who would either follow his predecessors with equal strides in virtue or rival those nearest to him.” Such answers appeared full of justice and fairness, and indeed they were. Therefore, after pondering the matter long and carefully, he summoned a council at Windsor, intending to bring the business to its conclusion. His own intention was that Faritius, abbot of Abingdon, should be elected, a man of immense vigour and remarkable diligence in carrying through whatever he had undertaken. Nevertheless, at least in the election of the archbishop, the king indulged his own preference in nothing, but entrusted the election to the common judgement. That he acted with remarkable restraint in this matter, both then and on other occasions, is well known; it will be for those concerned to answer at the divine judgement for the spirit in which they exercised the decision entrusted to them. When, therefore, they wished on that occasion to choose someone from the clerical order, it was objected that no cleric had ever been archbishop of Canterbury except one, Stigand, who had both entered the office unlawfully and been deservedly expelled from it. There was no need, they said, to make foolish a custom of such great antiquity, especially since it could not be proved to be contrary to the faith. Having been thwarted in this plan, and viewing Faritius’s severity with suspicion, they deliberated as follows. “If that Lombard becomes archbishop, there will be disputes again, divisions again. He will spare none of us, especially since the king regards him as though he had been sent down from heaven. But these things must not be said openly. Let something be said that wounds no man’s conscience. There have been more than enough archbishops of foreign birth. Our native land has an abundance of men who could reproduce Lanfranc in learning, display Anselm in religion, and equal both in their garb. There is Ralph, bishop of Rochester, who in reputation equals the men of old, and in humble affability surpasses both old and new. If you examine his birth, he springs from a distinguished Norman lineage; if you inquire into his life, it has never been touched by any stain of ill-repute. He alone is a man whose religious life even envy cannot criticise, because it is governed by discretion. If you investigate his knowledge of letters, he has drained all Athens dry; if you demand eloquence, speech flows from his mouth with a certain honeyed smoothness; and to this is added the polished and, as it were, carefully combed manner of speaking native to his homeland, that is, Le Mans.” These arguments won such support that the king immediately changed his judgement and went over to their wishes. This took place on the fifth day after the completion of five years from Anselm’s death.

⁷⁴ Ralph had devoted himself to the monastic life at Séez, an abbey in Normandy, in the first bloom of his youth. As his virtues grew and strengthened, he became first sub-prior, then prior, and finally abbot. He had greatly raised that place, which was exceedingly poor and confined, both outwardly and inwardly. At first Robert of Bellême, lord of that province, approved of him and allowed the man freely to devote himself to the religious life. But as soon as Robert, as we have said elsewhere, was driven from England by King Henry and withdrew to Normandy, he began to harass the abbot about an oath and homage. Robert pressed the matter more persistently, while Ralph, who had heard of the Roman pope’s prohibition, utterly refused. Therefore, abandoning the abbey and coming to England, he spent, and in a sense wasted, much time travelling among monasteries, where he was graciously received because of the merit of his life and conversation. For he did not consider it honourable to return to Robert in Normandy, since Robert was a profound abyss of every disgrace and wickedness. Nor did he think it proper to remain as a guest anywhere in England for long, lest by his persistence he should appear to provoke the weariness of the inhabitants. For at that time a multitude of Norman abbots had flooded into the country, bringing to the English sermons which they had devised and polished in their homeland, now here and now there consuming prolonged periods of leisure at other men’s expense. They were accustomed to put their tongues up for sale and hunt after the breezes of favour. Ralph, avoiding these causes of resentment as modestly as he could, spent most of his time near the archbishop, with whom he had enjoyed holy and familiar companionship from his youth. Hence it came about that, when Gundulf, bishop of Rochester, died, Anselm appointed Ralph in his place, having first received from him homage and an oath that he would remain faithful to the holy Church of Canterbury. As the day of consecration approached, we have learned that Anselm earnestly prayed to God that, since he had chosen Ralph as bishop, He would reveal some such sign concerning him by which Anselm might rejoice that his own judgement agreed with the divine will. The gracious God answered his simple prayer and presented this verse: “They shall be like the angels of God” [Matthew 22:30]. Thus, when he had been made bishop, Ralph did not disappoint the good opinion which men had formed of him, but brought it into effect and displayed it publicly. Therefore, when the choice of an archbishop came under consideration, everyone came together in support of his election, with willing minds and also with one voice. Having therefore been brought to the see, not long afterwards he obtained the pallium by the favour of the Roman See, Anselm the legate bringing it, who was the son of Archbishop Anselm’s sister. For at the beginning of Henry’s reign Guy, archbishop of Vienne, who afterwards became pope, had also come to England to exercise the office of legate; then came Anselm, and not long afterwards a certain Peter. They all returned having accomplished nothing in the matter but carrying away great spoils for themselves, Peter most of all, since everyone took care not to provoke him, because he was the son of Peter Leo, the foremost prince of the Romans. Roman legates therefore frequently came to England, lying in wait for Ralph’s weakness, but they were all driven away by Henry’s caution. For he was unwilling, contrary to ancient custom, to receive any legate into England other than the archbishop of Canterbury; and the archbishops gladly broke the force of their attempts because of their rapacity for money. But Cono, the legate in Gaul, was not so easily turned aside: he placed all the bishops and abbots of Normandy under suspension because, although summoned three times, they had not come to his councils. After deliberation concerning this, Archbishop Ralph and Herbert, bishop of Norwich, were sent to Rome so that by their efforts they might resolve so great a confusion caused by the legates. But when Ralph reached the castle called La Ferté, a most foul ulcer attacked and swelled his face, a sure indication of the paralysis that was to come. Pliny the Younger calls a carbuncle a peculiar disease of the face, which either eats through the flesh to the bones or, if forestalled by the diligence of physicians, leaves a disfiguring scar. Ralph therefore lay ill for many days. Afterwards, when the illness had subsided, or rather when death had been postponed, he reached Rome. Pope Paschal was absent at that time and was staying at Benevento. The emperor’s soldiers, since the emperor was then threatening Rome with arms for a second time, had occupied the intervening roads, and the archbishop could not obtain an audience with the pope except through intermediaries. What they accomplished with the pope will be made clear by the letter.

⁷⁵ “Paschal, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to his venerable brothers the bishops of England, and to his most beloved son Henry, illustrious king, greetings and apostolic blessing. When our most beloved and reverend brother Ralph the archbishop came to us, we learned of the embassy which you had sent to us through our venerable brother Herbert, bishop of Norwich. And indeed, being hindered by severe afflictions of illness, these same brothers and fellow bishops were wholly unable to reach our presence. But when the honourable and venerable persons serving as their messengers arrived, we received their writings, in which we perceived both their requests and the desires expressed in your embassy. For this was desired and this was requested: that the Church of Canterbury should not in our time be deprived of its dignity; that we should neither diminish nor permit to be diminished that same dignity which it has possessed ever since it was founded by blessed Augustine under blessed Gregory. Besides these written representations, the envoys who were sent to us, being wise and energetic men, pursued their arguments prudently, persistently, and effectively. We indeed received with kindness and gladness both the persons and arguments of the envoys and the embassy of you all, as of most beloved brothers, because we desire to please you in the Lord and for the Lord’s sake. We therefore wish it to be known to your affection that we neither have diminished nor intend to diminish the dignity of the Church of Canterbury. For we venerate blessed Gregory, pontiff of the Apostolic See, in all things, as an eminent member of Christ the Lord, as shepherd and teacher of the Christian people, and as a minister of eternal salvation; and we desire that those things which proceeded from his ordinances should remain valid. Therefore, the dignity which the Church of Canterbury received from him through blessed Augustine, and which our brother Anselm of holy memory is known to have held by right and lawful possession, we certainly diminish in no respect; rather, we wish the Church of Canterbury to remain in that same condition, so that its authentic privileges, in accordance with the decrees of the canons, may be violated by no disturbances. Given at Benevento, on the ninth day before the Kalends of April.”

⁷⁶ If the pope had expressly said, “The Church of Canterbury possessed these particular dignities, and I confirm those same dignities to it,” he would have settled the dispute and put an end to the controversies. But by saying, “Whatever authentic privileges it possesses, we in no way diminish,” he left the matter as indeterminate as it had been before. Thus the cunning ingenuity of the Romans knows how to turn itself to the subtleties of advocates and to leave what it wishes unresolved in fruitless ambiguity, sparing no labour of others so long as it serves its own advantage. Ralph therefore remained in the neighbourhood of Rome for several days, sometimes in the emperor’s army, though only with the pope’s permission, and sometimes at Sutri, awaiting an audience with the pope, whom rumour reported to be on the very point of arriving. Kept in suspense by this expectation, he wasted his expenditure and effort. For when the pope did not come, Ralph returned to Normandy and remained with the king for more than a year, intending to meet Gelasius, Paschal’s successor, when he came to this side of the Alps, so that, as an advocate of his own cause in person, he might repel the objections of his opponents. For Thurstan, bishop-elect of York, who was unwilling to make a profession of obedience to the archbishop of Canterbury, was energetically working upon the minds of the Romans to win their favour. Moreover, after Gelasius had passed away and Guy, archbishop of Vienne, who as pope was called Calixtus, had succeeded him and was holding a council at Reims, Ralph sent him envoys to support his side. Calixtus received them openly with greater favour, but secretly deceived them with greater cunning than befitted so great a man, by consecrating the bishop-elect of York in contempt of every rule of antiquity. But when we come to the account of the archbishops of York, our narrative will not fail to explain by what means Thurstan defended his case even against the opposition of the king.

⁷⁷ But after Ralph returned to England, he was increasingly afflicted day by day by the old disability of paralysis which we have mentioned, though not so severely that he omitted the solemn duties of his office. Although his speech was more impaired, he was no ineffectual adviser in deliberations. Indeed, he was more prone to anger, because it is characteristic of that illness to drive the mind towards irritability. Whenever anything was done contrary to the rights of his Church, he took it badly and punished it severely. Nor indeed did he remain long in life, since the disease, becoming fiercer each day, hastened his end. He died on the thirteenth day before the Kalends of November, in the ninth year of his patriarchate, in the year of the Lord’s Incarnation 1122. Such was the end of Ralph, inferior to none in religious devotion, magnificently accomplished in learning, and certainly easily foremost of all in affability. From the abundance of his wealth he gained nothing more than the ability to do greater good to those whom he wished; although, in the judgement of the common people, his reputation declined by as much as his fortune increased. Yet he was marked by no suspicion, however slight, of any wrongdoing, except that he was more inclined to laughter and joking than seemed appropriate either to his dignity or his rank. But whatever his intention in doing this, that good man certainly did it with a good purpose; to suspect anything improper of him is to strive against piety.

Of the Bishops of Rochester. #

¹ The Church of Rochester follows that of Canterbury, next to it in proximity of place, though not in the authority of its privilege. In former times, while Canterbury was still in its infancy, Rochester drank in the faith from it, and now strives to imitate its mother by following the same course of virtues. Rochester is a town exceedingly confined in its situation, but, being placed on high ground, it is washed by a very swift river and cannot be approached by enemies without danger. I have learned very few, indeed almost no, deeds of the bishops of that city which I think worthy of remembrance. Therefore, if I set down their bare names, I ought not to incur resentment. For the scarcity of things to relate will excuse me from blame for saying little. Justus, the first bishop there, was appointed by blessed Augustine, and, when Archbishop Mellitus died, ascended the throne of Canterbury. Romanus was appointed by Justus in his place at Rochester and, having been sent to Pope Honorius on ecclesiastical business, lost his life when he was overwhelmed by the fury of the waves at sea. Paulinus succeeded to the vacant see. Antiquity has always proclaimed his praise down to the present day and exalted it exceedingly. He was Roman by birth and was sent to England by blessed Gregory with the others for the ministry of the Word. He was ordained bishop for the people of the Northumbrians by Archbishop Justus and appointed as their apostle. He summoned the reluctant king to the faith by reminding him of a heavenly revelation: what divine mercy had once graciously shown to Edwin, the spirit of prophecy had now revealed to Paulinus. He himself received the pallium from Pope Honorius and consecrated Honorius as archbishop of Canterbury after Justus. After wresting much spoil from the devil among the northern people, so that the trial of persecution should not be lacking to a veteran soldier, he was violently driven from his see by hostile force and withdrew to Kent. Then, as I said above, he undertook the government of the Church of Rochester, Archbishop Honorius and King Eadbald earnestly urging the most holy priest to do so with favourable encouragement. He accepted what charity suggested through the affection of his brethren and, content for the time with the throne of a lesser place, in due course entered upon the way of all flesh [Joshua 23:14; 1 Kings 2:2], nineteen years, two months, and twenty-one days after he had been ordained to York. He was buried in the church which King Ethelbert had built there from the foundations in honour of Saint Andrew the Apostle, whom that see venerates as its patron. He is a renowned saint in that province and is reverently beloved by all because of the speed and readiness with which he comes to the aid of those who pray. Ithamar filled Paulinus’s place at Rochester, being appointed and consecrated by Archbishop Honorius. He was indeed English by birth, but in him you would have found nothing lacking in perfect holiness as regards his life, nor anything lacking in Roman refinement as regards his learning. Thus, being the first Englishman to bear in his native land the distinction of episcopal office, he added no small dignity to his own countrymen. After Honorius, he ordained Deusdedit as archbishop at Canterbury. This would ordinarily have been the duty of the archbishop of York, but, after Paulinus had been driven out, as I have said, no one had succeeded him. For the Scots also, who through the favour of the Northumbrian kings had filled that province, were accustomed rather to hide without distinction in marshy places than to dwell in lofty cities. At the same time, because they went astray in many matters, especially in the observance of the Catholic Easter, the surviving adherents of Roman custom in Kent took care not to receive ordinations from those who were in error. When Ithamar died, Damian succeeded him, appointed by Archbishop Deusdedit. Theodore ordered Putta to succeed Damian, a man as well suited to the leisure of ecclesiastical life as he was sluggish and inept in public affairs. Indeed, although he had often contemplated resigning the episcopate while affairs were still in profound peace, he gladly seized upon the occasion provided by a hostile attack. For Æthelred, king of the Mercians, inflamed by some insolent reply from the king of Kent, though I do not know what it was, was laying waste all Kent with fire and sword, and had condemned all the lands of the bishopric of Rochester to destruction. Putta embraced this misfortune with a patient spirit and withdrew to Seaxwulf, bishop of the Mercians; through the gift of his generosity he obtained a country church and a small piece of land, and there peacefully spent the remainder of his life, conducting a public school of ecclesiastical chant wherever he was asked to go. Then Quichelmus was ordained to the see, but not long afterwards, distressed by lack of necessities, he too withdrew. Gebmund was appointed in his place and endured remaining there; he had as his successor Tobias, who, as Bede says, was filled to the utmost with knowledge of letters. Indeed, he had not only Latin but also Greek so completely at his command that in either language, as readily as in his own, he could express whatever he wished no less elegantly than fluently. At his death Aldulf succeeded him, and he is the last in the succession of the bishops of Rochester to be found in Bede. Thus far Bede; I shall add the names of the others as recorded in documents: Dun, Erdulf, Deora, Wermund, Bernmod, Burhric, Alfstan, Godwin, Siward. Siward was bishop at the time when the Normans came to England, and, surviving only a few days thereafter, reached the end of his life; he left the church wretched and destitute, lacking everything both within and without. For there were scarcely four canons, who sustained their lives on meagre food, itself obtained from day to day either by begging or by payment, and in the clothing of common people. Wishing to correct these miseries, the most wise Archbishop Lanfranc appointed a certain monk named Arnost as bishop of the place. But when he was carried off by an early death, Lanfranc introduced Gundulf, likewise a monk. Under him the possessions of the church were magnificently increased, and the monks grew to more than fifty, for whom both the rule was cherished and all necessities were abundant. This is credited to Gundulf’s glory, and especially to Lanfranc’s diligence, who also purchased from his own resources the estate of Heddraam and conveyed it in perpetual right for the use of the monks serving the holy Apostle. Gundulf was full of religious devotion, not unlearned in letters, keen and accomplished in practical affairs, and was thought to have merited this honour chiefly by divine election. For while he was still at Caen hearing the divine Scriptures, it happened that he was sitting beside his teacher with two others, holding a Gospel book; one was named Walter, but the other’s name has escaped me. While the teacher was occupied elsewhere for the moment, they began amusing themselves together and said, “Let us discover by turning the pages which of us is to become an abbot and which a bishop.” No sooner had they spoken and turned the page than Gundulf first found: “Who is the faithful and wise servant whom his lord has appointed over his household?” [Matthew 24:45; Luke 12:42]. Walter likewise found: “Good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your lord” [Matthew 25:21]. The third was disturbed by finding something harsh; although I heard what it was, I have willingly forgotten it, since it is not the mark of a generous mind to exult over the misfortunes of others. When laughter broke out at the result, Lanfranc asked what had made them so joyful. When he learned what had happened, he confidently declared that Gundulf would become a bishop, Walter an abbot, and the third would return to the slippery ways of the world. The outcome proved the truth of his words. Gundulf became bishop at Rochester, Walter abbot at Evesham, and the third went off into vanity. The event afterwards seemed all the more miraculous because at that time Lanfranc had not yet conceived any hope of becoming archbishop, nor even of crossing into England. Gundulf, therefore, having reached a holy end, had as his successor Ralph, abbot of Séez, as I said before. When Ralph was raised to the archbishopric, Ernulf succeeded him. He was a Gaul by birth and spent a considerable time as a monk at the monastery of Saint Lucian in Beauvais. But when he saw certain practices there full of arrogance which he could neither correct nor was willing to endure, he determined to leave. He first sought Lanfranc’s advice, intending without hesitation to do whatever Lanfranc thought should be commanded. Lanfranc, who knew the man’s ability thoroughly—for Ernulf had studied with him for a long time at Bec—persuaded him to come to him, because he could not save his soul there. He came, therefore, and throughout Lanfranc’s lifetime was a monk at Canterbury; under Anselm he became prior there, then abbot at Peterborough, and under Ralph he was appointed bishop at Rochester. It is difficult to recount how great his integrity and prudence were in every office. At Canterbury he magnificently rebuilt the eastern part of the church which Lanfranc had erected, so that nothing comparable could be seen in England for the brilliance of its glass windows, the gleam of its marble pavement, and its paintings of many colours. At Peterborough the number of monks was increased, religious life strengthened by good admonitions, the ruins of the old buildings cleared away, new foundations laid, and roofs raised. When a devouring fire had consumed all these things and he was contemplating rebuilding them, the episcopal honour was thrust upon him. At Rochester, although everything seemed already to have been done—for Gundulf’s vigour had anticipated the diligence of all his successors—Ernulf nevertheless was always devising something in which his ability might shine: strengthening what was old and constructing what was new. He lived in the episcopate for a few days more than nine years, and died at the age of eighty-four, leaving many monuments of his excellence.

Here ends Book One. #