The three archbishops : Lanfranc, Anselm, A' Becket

Preface

In one of those eloquent passages which mark the Introduction to his History of England, Lord Macaulay observes : — The sources of the noblest rivers which spread fertility over continents, and bear richly-laden fleets to the sea, are to be sought in wild and barren mountain tracts, incorrectly laid down in maps, and rarely explored by travellers. To such a tract the history of our country during the thirteenth century may not unaptly be com¬ pared. Sterile and obscure as is that portion of our annals, it is there that we must seek for the origin of our freedom, our prosperity, and our glory.” In the following pages is an attempt to relieve the sterility, and unravel the obscurity, that hangs over the church history of the period immediately pre¬ ceding that referred to by Macaulay, but bearing

IV

PREFACE.

the same general characteristics. And the history of the Churcli in England during the reign of the first five Norman kings, is summed up in the history

of the Three Archbishops,” Lanfranc, Anselm, and A’Becket.

From the time of the battle of Hastings to the reign of Henry the Second, the amalgamation of the two races, conquered and conquerors, Saxon and Norman, was gradually progressing; and in the three great churchmen of the period we have an illustration of the union that was going forward ; Lanfranc and Anselm belonging, in character and sympathies, if not literally in birth, to the Norman race, while A’Becket was more allied to the Saxons in birth, and partook more also of their character. In the Christian church at large, without the limits of England, stirring events were also in progress. The times of Gregory the Sixth and Hildebrand, of Urban the First and Urban the Second, of the Pope and Antipope, of the Council of Clermont, were times of great importance in the history of the growing power of the Roman bishops. At periods like these our island always rose into importance.

PREFACE.

V as a prey for which it was worth while for both parties to make some efforts ; and the contest of which England was often the scene between the power of the church and the power of the crown, was Avatched with no small interest by crowned and mitred heads throughout Christendom. Anselm and A’Becket both openly upheld the privileges of the church and of the bishop of Rome, in opposition to that of the king, and both with varying success. A record of the incidents of these contests Avill be found to occupy a considerable space in the volume.

The name of Thomas A’Becket is especially one of interest to every English reader. The romantic stories of his birth and parentage, his sudden eleva¬ tion to the highest civil dignity in the country, his power over the young and impetuous king, his sudden change when raised to the archiepiscopal dignity, the reluctance with which he signed the famous Constitutions of Clarendon,” so hostile to the interests of his church, his subsequent bitter humiliation, the dislike and jealousy felt towards him by Henry, his tragical death, and the remorse of the king, — are facts Avhich have made a strong

PREFACE.

impression on the mind of every child when first initiated into the rudiments of English History. It has been thought, therefore, that an attempt to present the Life of A’Becket, combined with those of his great predecessors, may not he unacceptable to many English readers.

. CONTENTS.

LANFEANC.

PAGE

I. Night and Morning . 1

II. Payia and Avranches . 4

III. Bec . 12

IV. Literature and Schools of the Middle Ages 21

V. Matilda of Flanders and William of Nor¬ mandy . 31

VI. The Charge d’affaires, and the Monk of

Cluni . 39

VII. The Champion of Orthodoxy . . . .53

VIII. The Norman Conquest . 69

IX. The Pope and the English Prelates . . 85

X. The Primate in Council . 94

XL Incidents of Norman Rule . . . .112

XII. The Primate’s Last Acts and Death . .137

ANSELM.

I. Aoust and Avranches

•

•

•

. 151

Cloister Life .

•

•

•

. 156

III. Nolo Episcopari

•

•

•

. 163

Vlll

Contents

PAGE

IV. Anselm becomes Abchbishop . . . .175

V. Anselm’s Quabbel with the King . . 196

Chapter I. Night And Morning

Towards tlie close of a clay in tlie year 1042, a yonng man was descending a slope of country lying between A^Tanclies and tlie Norman city of Ronen. It was bounded on tbe sontii and most elevated part by a wood, and on tlie north by a valley, tlirongli which ran a small stream, giving its name to the neighbour¬ hood. He had not long left the wood, and was nearly two miles from the valley before him, when he was suddenly attaeked by robbers, who violently lionnd his hands behind him, and tied his capnce, or loose cloak, before his eyes ; then, having taken all he liad about him, they led him back to the Avood, where they left him to bemoan his fate.

In a condition so nnemiable and hopeless, nothing was left him but patient endiirance^^ or fretful

B

THE TEAVELLEK.

complaint. At first lie indulged in tlie latter_, lamenting witli loud cries Ms unfortunate situation ; but at length^ as tlie silent niglit closed around bim^ he turned his thoughts in the direction of Heaven^ de¬ siring rather to ask for help than doubt of its coining. But when he attempted to do so^ he found he could not — -that he was acquainted with no form of prayer. He was not an ignorant man^ but on the contrary was possessed of all the science and learning of his age ; and yet he had so neglected religion and religious exercises^ that now he was destitute even of the solace they could have afforded him. ^^Now he saw with

t/

Ecclesiastes^ though he had not as yet learnt the use of ecclesiastical writings^ that the things of this world are but vanity.-’'’ * Thus^ captive and weary_, in the darkness of the nighty and in the midst of a wood, he made a vow, that if he lived to recover liberty and strength he would become a monk in some poor monastery, and there devote himself to a religious life.

Consoled and strengthened by this resolution, he Avaited for the daivn ; and about the morning tivilight hearing the footsteps of approaching travellers, he called out loudly for their assistance ; and they, after some hesitation, came to him, and, releasing him, led liim back to the road. In ansAver to his inquiries for a poor monastery, they directed him to one, than which a poorer or more abjeet could not be found, “ built by a man of God,^-’ not far from Avhere they stood j and sheAAnng him the Avay, they departed.

* Ord. Vit., yol. ii, p. 40.

HIS ARRIVAL AT EEC.

He turned liis steps in tlie direction tliey had pointed, went in search of the abbey they had de¬ scribed, and found it upon the side of the stream, in the valley at the end of the road along which he had been journeying the previous night.

Arrived at the house, he found that the poverty of the place was its chief characteristic. The abbot was engaged in a manual and servile occupation, working with his own hands, and surrounded by a few monks. The traveller, addressing the abbot, said, * God save thee ; and the abbot replying, “ God bless thee,^'* asked, Art thou a Lombard He said, I am.'*’’ Art thou a monk ? ” asked the abbot. I wish to be,^^ he answered. The abbot then ealled a monk named Roger, and directed him to lay before the young man the book of the rules appointed by St. Benedict, the founder of their order. The book liaGng been brought and read through, the stranger desired to be admitted to the brotherhood of the monastery. The abbot, hearing this, and feeling the stranger might be of standing and importanec, Rorreed to his desire ; and Lanfrane of Pavia entered as a tyro in the abbey he was destined to render famous.

^ Vit. : Lanfr. : : Crisp. : D’Acher)', Paris.

B

A t ;

i

Chapter II. Pavia And Avranches

S ucH is tlie legend connected^ by nearly all tire monkish biographers of LanfranC; with his determination to take the monastic vow. We have placed it in the first chapter of this history^ not because we regard it as truthful^ but because it introduces him to the reader^s notice at its first important period — and if its results be regarded^ the most important — besides which^ it gives^ in a graphic and lively manner^ and nearly in the words of his contemporaries^, the esti¬ mate they formed of his previous life and studies^ looked at from their points of view_, and through the media of their prejudices.

The accounts of Lanfranc^s early life are not very full in detail, but such as we have will enable us to trace with tolerable certainty the path that he fol¬ lowed till it issued in Bee. We propose doing this in the present chapter.

Lanfranc was not a native of France; he first travelled thither about 1036. He was born at Pavia, the capital of Lombardy, in the year 1005, and was destined by his parents for the profession of the lANFRAXc’s BIRTH AND FAMILY. 5

law.* His family was of senatorial rank ; liis fatlier, Hambald_, being one of tlie principal magistrates of the city, and keeper of tire pnblic arcliives. f While lie M"as yet yonng, he lost his. parents by death ; but, continuing his studies, he soon exhausted the edu¬ cational resources of his native place, which he quitted for Bologna, then celebrated for its schools of civil law. Ilis love of knowledge is also said to have led him to Cologne. J Soon after, he returned to PaHa, stored with not only all the learning proper to his profession, but also of all the arts and sciences then known and cultivated. He at once commenced pleading in the courts of laAv, and soon became dis¬ tinguished for the easy flow of his eloquence, as well as his legal skill. The latter was in such request, that his opinions were sought by the most experienced juris¬ consults of his time. § And as to the former, one of his biographers speaks of him as the ^‘’youthful orator, who, when pleading a cause, frequently triumphed over his veteran opponents, and by a torrent of elo¬ quence 'won the prize from men long in the habit of J eloquent speaking.'’^ ||

It is not knoMui,^^ says Berington, why, when thus prosperously engaged, he again left Pavia, crossed the Alps, and traversed France, and about the year 1036, fixed his residence at Avranches in Normandy, surrounded by many scholars.'’^ ^

The reason ^ye conceive to be this : — The naturally lofty and spiritual mind of Lanfranc had grown weary

SCHOOL AT AYllANCHES.

of tlie low and barren paths in which the jurisconsult of Bologna or the advocate of Pavia was condemned to walk. Large and expansive ideas had begun to occupy liis thoughts^ and ill comported with the employments of a life whose every expression wasartificial and monotonous. Questions had arisen within him^ questions of a metaphysical or philo¬ sophic character, to which he could find no solu¬ tion in the studies or practice of civil law. It was only natm’al, therefore, that he should turn his eyes across the Alps, to a country where mind had more activity and freedom, and where these questions had been debated for two or three preceding centuries.

Whatever were his motives, however, Lanfranc iippeared at Avranches, at the date already given, as a teacher in one of the schools that were then open to the younger branches of the French nobility. We shall have occasion to speak of the subjects of instruc¬ tion, and the methods employed in these schools, when we come to his more famous one of Bee ; it will, therefore, only be necessary to say now, that his fiime chiefly rested on Ins acute and refined dialec¬ tical skill. He was a perfect master of logic, and is said to have trained scholars who were prone, at every opportunity, to engage in controversy.* The study of logic was in accordance w\th the spirit of the age,, although what was then called by that name was rather a system of words and rules than a method based upon the observation of natural and mental phenomena. This dialectical tendency had been

^ Berington, Book iv..

THE MIDDLE AGES.

y

created under the influence of Arabian teaching and literatiH’e. It was during the ninth century that the scholars of France and G-ermany began to travel to the cities of Cordova and Seville — the seats of Arabian learning — ^for the purpose of receiving in¬ struction in the science of geometry^ or such ele¬ mentary matters as passed under that nam.e ; and it Mas by this means that the n^orks of Aristotle came to be known, and his system of logic to be cultivated.

For a considerable period, these studies were known only to a few, and were pursued simply for themselves ; but afterwards their influence could be seen in the spirit of theological controversy, in the desire of many minds for a/inore exact and definite expression of the doctrines of the church, and in an evident bias towards metaphysical inquiries.

It must not be supposed that this condition of things was universal at the time of Lanfranc^s arrival at Awanches. So far from this being the case, there were but a few men whose minds were intent upon the pursuit and acquisition of knowledge. The general aspect presented to the eye of the observer, was sad and discouraging. The clergy w^ere ignorant and idle ; the language and literature of ancient Rome, which should have been especially cultivated by them, w'ere greatly neglected; and the Latin wdiich they com¬ monly used is said to have become almost barbarous.!

It must be eAdent, these things being so, that an immense w^ork had to be accomplished by Lan-

* Berington, iii & iv.

f Sec Berington, Git;ssler, and others quoted by them.

LEGEND OF DE KNYGHTON.

franc^ or for liim^ before lie could find an audience prepared to sliare bis desires, or receive tbe speculations of bis daring mind. Tbe subjects wbicb be taugbt in bis lectures be would doubtless regard merely as tbe means by wbicb truth might ultimately be reached, Imt certainly not as themselves^ tbe end — methods that could be applied to tbe solution of tbe problems arising either from bis own nature or tbe necessities of tbe age.

But tbe line that marked tbe boundary of popu- . lar inquny, did not exist in bis case and in that of others of bis time : and consequently we find him engaged in wide and expansive fields of thought ; pushing bis investigations to tbe utmost verge of all reliable data, and inquiring into subjects which bis contemporaries must have regarded as certain and conclusive. An incident is related of him at this time, which tbroivs a strong and clear light upon tbe course of thought which he ordinarily followed. He is reported to have retired to a solitary spot, beside the river Seine, to meditate on the mysterious essence of the Infinite, when he saw a boy ladling out the waters of the river that ran before him into a little well. His curiosity arrested, he asked the boy what he proposed to do. To empty yon deep into this well,^-’ was the answer. “ That thou canst never do,^^ said the scholar. ^^Nor canst thou exhaust the deep on which thou dost meditate, into the well of thy reason,^ ^ replied the boy, as he vanished from sight.

It is supposed by the translator of the above that

ITS MEANING.

Lanfranc liad explained in a parable tlie proeess tlirongli wliicli liis mind was passing at this time^ and that his biographers^ understanding him literally, have produced the legend as a fact.* "Whether this be the case or not, avc may fairly deduce from it the opinion, that the mind of Lanfranc was struggling to break those huge mysteries which lie round about every form of religious faith, and which must lie passed ere a man can find himself within the sacred enclosure. We have supposed him lea\dng the law courts of liis native city, that he might devote his energies to the cultivation of the pm^er sciences ; we have seen that his intellectual nature grew weary of the pursuit of those objects which were merely limited and temporary ; and now we behold him still unsatisfied. There is still a longing to which nothing answers, a void that no science can fill; the spirit within him asserts its right to be heard ; and therefore he brings his speculations to a pause at the threshold of the churcb. Ileason bears her gains, to lay them at the feet and service of Faith, and becomes hence¬ forth her patient handmaid.

This, we take it, is the true theory of Lanfranc’s sudden removal from Pavia to Normandy, and of his as suddenly closing his school and disappearing from A\Tanches. The story related in the first chapter must be regarded merely as a fable, invented probably in after years by the monkish historians, to bring into disrepute secidar learning in comparison vnih religious knowledge and exercises. His contemporaries of the

* See notes to Bulwer’s Harold.

B 3

LANFRAXC^S SUPPOSED AlIBITIOiV.

cell were not generally remarkable for tliat wliieb they bave disparaged^ and wliieli universal fame bas ascribed to Lanfranc ; and it is not a matter for wonder, tbat they should have endeavoured, even by fable', to exaggerate the value of tbat religious feeling which they did possess, at the expense of that intellectual culture which they did not possess, though found in one who, by giving the spoils of his scholarship to their cause, became its brightest ornament in that age.

It has been supposed, however, that Lanfranc^ s chief motive to take this step was his ambition — that however famous he might be as a teacher, he felt he was still only a layman, and as such he could never rise to those eminent positions in the state which the clergy and nobility everywhere divided.* To a certain extent this may be true ; indications of ambition are scattered through his after life, but none appear earlier than this. Ambition is more frequently the flower than the root of success : and besides, an ambitious man would hardly have chosen the monastery of Bee as the stepping-stone to power ; there were others in which his talents would have found instant recog¬ nition, and his sacrifice of secular honour a quick reward; but Bee was poor, unknown, and nn visited, in every way unfitted to be the home of a man ^vith such a purpose. No ; it is far more natural and more grateful to suppose that his mind lacked the repose and satisfaction that can be found only in certainty of belief, and congeniality of occupation ;

HE ENTERS THE -iXKDNASTERY OP EEC and tliat^ becanse the cliiu’cli offered him botli^ he devoted himself to her service.

However this mav have been, Lanfranc entered the monastery of Bee in the year 1042; being thirty-seven years of age.

r

Chapter III. Eec

When Lanfranc entered the abbey of Bee it was neither venerable for its antiquity nor beantifiil in its structnre ; what there is of glory belonging to it has been since acquired^ it being then chiefly remark¬ able for the poverty of its inmates and the piety of its abbot.

From him it is nsnally called Bee Herlnin, or Hellouin, be being its founder and flrst abbot. In the early part of bis life be had been a knight^ and in one of the skirmishes incident to bis condition, bad l)een worsted by Gislebcrt, Connt of Pontbien. Seing most of bis companions either dead or prisoners, be attempted to save himself by flight ; but fearing be might fall into the bands of bis enemies, be made a vow, that if God would deliver him from this danger, be would build a monastery to bis honour. The safety be desired be obtained, and, in conformity with his promise, he retired from the world, and received the sacred dress of a monk. Soon

* Orel. Yit., Yol. i., p. 383. + AYillel. Gem.

BEC AND ITS FOUNDERS.

after, being joined by others, he was consecrated abbot of his little establishment. The place he had chosen for its site did not prove very suitable to such an edifice, it being a large open plain, with only a limited supply of water — no fountain nearer than two miles. After some little time, therefore, he removed with his companions to his own estate, which, from a little stream fioudng there, w'as called Bee. Situ¬ ated at the bottom of a valley, its surrounding hills covered by a thick wood, it was in every way fitted to be the retreat of a community of recluses.*

Their mode of life was extremely simple and un¬ ostentatious — their time being generally divided between the exercises prescribed by the church and the employments of the field.

We have a lively picture from the pen of an old chronicler, himself a monk, of the w^ay in which time passed with Herluin and his followers in their first convent, f In the fields about their dwelling, at seed time, the abbot might be seen carrying in his hand a spade or a rake, helping or directing others ; around him Avas his little company of monks, employing themselves until the close of day in a variety of ways ; some clear the ground of briars and thorns ; others, , carrying manime upon their shoulders, scatter it abroad ; these rake the soil, those cast in the seed ; no one eats the liread of idleness. At the hour for performing the offices of the chiu’ch, all assemble. The daily meal is frugal and primitive : bread of the finest flour, vegetables Avith salt, and Avater — not

t Ibid.

* AVillel. Gem.

14 HABITS AND MANNERS OP THE MONNS.

abvays tlie clearest — forming tlieir limited dietary. The chronicler who relates Lanfranc^s entrance to Bec^ describes the abbot as being employed with his OMTL hands in repairing a furnace^ or oven^ one of the necessary adjuncts of every monastery.*

In manners and mind the inmates of Bee were not so worthy of our admiration^ being extremely igno¬ rant and not remarkable for any large amount of piety. The abbot, who was probably not far in advance of his monks in respect of learning, but was, however, very superior to them in what should have lieen their chief characteristic — religious principles — was occasionally in great trouble and grief through the quarrels in which they engaged, f t

The knowledge of a few such facts as these, scattered through the records of the middle ages, may go far to cool the envy we are inclined to indulge, when we hear of the fraternal peace and perpetual content¬ ment of monastic institutions, and to abate our regret that they are ' no longer the common property of Christendom. Even without sueh notices, a little reflection might show us that the natural tendency of these communities must be ever towards the degrada¬ tion, rather than the elevation, of the mind and character of their members. It would surelv have been as marvellous as satisfaetory if no perplexities of the kind recorded had ever arisen to disturb the tranquillity of Abbot Herluin, when we consider what different tempers, manners, and constitutions were

* Milo Crispinns., cap. i: Yit. Lanfr., D’Achcry. t Milo Crisp. Yit. Lanfr., cap. ii. j MML'l. Gem.

RULES OF THE BENEDICTIXE ORDER.

shut up in liis narrow house. What feelings must there have been forced back upon the liearh that in a more natural home would have flowed forth in love and joy ; what affections must there have been wasted for want of objects on which to bestow themselves ; what a prison must that have been where no female face ever shed its sunny smile^ and no child ever gambolled in guileless glee !

But, besides the abbot, there was now another at Bee, who would look with anything but satisfaction upon the behavioru’ of his companions, and who might possibly feel some little disappointment at the reality of monastic life, compared to the expectations he had entertained of it. As a notice, too, his influence would be confined to example, though that might not be the least potent he could exert.

We hear little of Lanfranc during the early part of his stay at Bee, except that for three years after his admission he lived the ordinary and quiet life of a monk. He had been regularly admitted, at the end of his yearns probation, a member of the Benedictine order; and he does not seem to have disgraced its founder by any want of fervour as a rigid and pious brother.

If he were — as has been represented — simply an ambitious Italian, whose keen eye had detected that the road to preferment and honour lay through the cloister, his proud spirit would here find enough to humble and chafe it. Everything that could abase the heart, and teach practical humility, was enjoined 1)y the rules of the order. The junior was to pay constant respect to his senior, to rise from table when

OBEDIENCE OF LANFRANC.

lie passed_, and not to sit till bidden; both juniors and seniors were to maintain perfect silence^ except at certain hours^ and to obey the order of the abbot without question or scruple.

The employments were of a servile and^ to a man of cultivated mind^ of a vexatious nature. Each monk took his turn in the kitchen^ and for one week pre¬ pared the food of the others^ recemng for this service an extra allowance of wine^ and at the end of the week delivered the platters clean to his successor. But the two most important and distinguishing characteristics of the order were silence and obe¬ dience. To such a ludicrous extent was the one carried_, that when the monks were employed in the

Scriptorium/'’ or writing-room, they were not allowed to ask for anything they might require, but to make signs for it. Thus, for a book, in general, they were to extend their hand, and nuove it, as if turning over the leaf of a book.'’^ For a particular book a particular sign was used ; for example, to dis¬ tinguish a book written by a heathen, the monk was to scratch his ear like a dog. f And as an instance of the obedience which the monks were accustomed to pay their superiors, we give the following anecdote, which we find recorded of Lanfranc, and which occinred during the early part of his cloister life.* It was customary for the monks to assemble after supper, or even-song, on fast-days, to listen to the reading of the brothers, in the Collations of Cassian, or one of the fathers. The post of reader had been assigned to-

* Mil. Crisp. : Vit, Lanfr., cap. ii. f Maitland’s Dark Age&.

EFFECTS OF MONASTIC LIFE.

if liim ; and while pronouncing’ tlie word docere^ lie was stopped by tlie presiding prior^ wbo desired liim to say doc&’e^ the very reverse of correct. So well, however, had Lanfranc learned to submit himself and his opinion to those above him, that he made no scruple to falsify the quantity and obey the senior, and immediately complied. It must not he sup¬ posed, because we see here the obedience of the monk, that necessarily there was the acquiescence of the man, or that the scholar would feel other than contempt ; though it is only reasonable to suppose he would not be so unprepared as many a modern reader might be for such a display of ignorance.

The results that we have seen arising from the influence of the monastic life upon the disposition and habits of the monks, may be expected from the mind and intellect. The tendency was a downward, deteriorating one. The original intention of the founders of the system was neither to make students, nor multiply manuscripts ; and if in after years manuscripts were executed, homilies and commen¬ taries written, or chronicles composed in the stillness of the cloister, we are not to consider these as results of the profession, Avhich belong rather to the industry of individuals. If scholars made the monastery their home, and in its retirement cultivated their minds, and enlarged their acquaintance with trutli, we must not regard them as other than types of a small though distinguished class. It was possible to be a devout follower of St. Benedict, a punctilious performer of religious services, a rigid exactor of personal sacrifices,

DESIRES TO LEA^T5 BEC.

and yet liave a most unintelligent niincl_, and a perfeet horror of intellectual pursuits. The gTeat majority of men >vho adopted the cowl and tunic did so with the vain hope of compelling themselves to yield obedience to moral precept; but with intellectual pursuits they had little or no sympathy. Of this ,we have an instance in the Abbey of St. Evronlb during the abbacy of Father Tlieodoric. lie was an intelli¬ gent and industrious man^ whose convent library wus filled with the manuscripts executed by its inmates. But for his admonitions to labour_, and injunctions to diligence^ he was hated by some of the monks^ who preferred secular concerns to their religious duties.