466 – The Bachelor

Welcome to the British History Podcast.

My name is Jamie, and this is episode 466: The Bachelor.

This show is ad-free due to member support.

And as a way of thanking members for keeping the show independent, I offer members-only content, including extra episodes and rough transcripts.

And you can get instant access to all the members' extras by signing up for membership at the BritishHistory Podcast.com for about the price of a latte per month.

And thank you very much to Jessica, Hebba, and Daenira for signing up already.

All of those promises Rufus had made to be a better man had finally convinced God.

After about two months of being bedridden, the king recovered from his mystery illness.

And now that the divine had delivered on its side of the bargain, well, there was really no point to any of those promises anymore.

And so Rufus immediately set about invalidating all of his penitential acts.

He wasn't going to be a better person.

He wasn't going to be focused on strictly enforcing justice.

He wasn't going to protect the church.

He wasn't going to free his prisoners.

And he definitely wasn't going to erase the debts.

In fact, maybe he'll do the opposite, just out of spite.

And Edmer, Anselm, and their fellow churchmen were absolutely stunned by this sudden about face, which is funny because there's nothing about Rufus that suggests that he was ever going to do otherwise.

This was a guy who came from an entire family of liars and who really rose to be the cream of the crop of lying liars who lie.

But for some reason, his supporters completely ignored all evidence about his character and instead seemed to believe that the real Rufus was the Rufus that lived in their hearts and that he would never lie to them.

Anyway, so while the church was paying the inevitable price of trusting the untrustworthy, there was one man who was spared the embarrassment.

Anselm.

Now Anselm had not yet been formally invested as the Archbishop of Canterbury.

And that weirdly non-consensual ritual carried out at the king's bedside?

Well, that didn't count, at least as far as Anselm was concerned.

So Anselm was adamant that he was not the Archbishop of Canterbury.

But even though Rufus had backed out of every other promise, this one,

the one where the recipient really wanted the king to take it back, well, Rufus was determined to see this promise through.

Which is really strange behavior.

And I've read historians suggest that maybe this is evidence that Rufus really liked Anselm, or that he felt obligated to keep his word to Anselm because the old priest was a friend of William and Matilda.

Essentially, the argument behind this line of reasoning is that Rufus was all, you know, I'm forcing you to serve as Archbishop even though the ritual made you scream and cry, and you begged me to stop it and then begged me to take it back, because,

well, I really like you and I really respect your relationship with my family.

Honestly, if that's what happened, this situation is even weirder than it seems.

But I think there's a much more plausible scenario for this decision.

Namely, that like all of Rufus' other decisions surrounding this event, his behavior here was driven by spite.

I suspect that if Anselm was thrilled with the appointment, Rufus would have bounced him out of the kingdom so fast that his feet would have hardly touched the ground.

But Anselm kept insisting that he didn't want the job.

And so Rufus was insisting that he had to take it.

I think that's what was going on here.

But I also get the feeling that the old monk might have just been playing hard to get here, because notably, he didn't return to Beck Abbey.

Instead, he stayed close to the king and just kept coming up with new reasons for why this archbishop idea would never work.

At least, not under the current circumstances.

And every time Rufus insisted on the appointment, Anselm would counter with new demands or new requirements.

And the more that Anselm refused, the more Rufus wanted him.

And to give you a sense of how well Anselm was playing the situation, early on, he got Rufus to order the Bishop of Rochester to remain at Anselm's side and ensure that, quote, he had everything he needed, end quote.

At all times, constantly.

Because apparently, Mr.

I'm not interested in worldly things, needed a highly ranked manservant to tend to his every whim.

And honestly, having a personal day spa run by the Bishop of Rochester was only the beginning of Anselm's wish list.

If Rufus really wanted the old monk, he was going to have to try a lot harder than that.

Though, to be fair, some of Anselm's requirements were genuine obstacles, rather than just things like a desire for unlimited massages administered by holy men.

For example, Anselm pointed out that even if he wanted to be the archbishop, he really couldn't, because he was already the abbot of Beck, and he was a subject to Duke Robert of Normandy.

So he would have to be released both from Normandy and Beck to even begin to consider becoming an archbishop.

And considering the state of cross-channel politics at this point, that really was a tall order.

But the chase was on.

And so Rufus sent messengers to his brother's court, and he also sent messengers to Beck Abbey, asking permission for Anselm's transfer.

But, you know, Being a king is also a really big job, and you can't spend all of your time chasing monk.

You have to also, once in a while, actually govern.

And now that Rufus had fully recovered from his illness, he had some real catching up to do.

For example, there was the little issue of King Malcolm of Scotland.

As we've discussed, that treaty between Malcolm and Rufus really didn't resolve anything.

And so that was going to have to be handled.

Now, our best source for this situation is the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.

And as you might imagine, it has a certain bias when it comes to discussing non-English kingdoms.

So we do need to keep that in mind.

But what those scribes tell us is that Rufus had been failing to fulfill the terms of his treaty with Scotland.

Now, they don't tell us specifically how or in what way, but considering the terseness of the entry, and considering that this was Rufus they were talking about, I wouldn't be surprised if he was refusing to honor any of the terms of the treaty.

But regardless, things between the two men were getting pretty tense at this point.

And apparently, even the Red King's own subjects were growing concerned with this escalating conflict, because Florence of Worcester tells us that there were even a few English magnates who were pushing for Rufus to keep his word to Malcolm.

So it sounds like everyone at this point was coming to realize that the king's word was worthless and that needed to change.

And I know.

It's hard to imagine living in an era where the only thing you can trust from your leader is that he's going to lie to you.

But just try.

But even though it's doubtful that Rufus ever intended to honor this treaty, he had only just shook off that deathly illness, so it's not like he was ready to saddle up and ride to war.

And so Rufus tried a diplomatic route instead.

He sent a messenger to King Malcolm, and he asked him to come to England so they could discuss the matter at court.

And to ensure the Scottish king's safety, he provided hostages along with the messenger.

Now we're not told who the hostages were, but I'm guessing they weren't anyone that Rufus actually liked.

And while Rufus waited for Malcolm's response, he decided to kill some time by trying to get Anselm to admit that he was the Archbishop of Canterbury.

After all, Rufus had declared Anselm the Archbishop, and he was king.

So the matter was already settled if you think about it.

The problem, though, was that Anselm did think about it, and he disagreed.

And so he kept coming up with even more reasons for why he couldn't possibly take such a powerful position.

And he also kept coming up with new things that he would need before he'd begin to consider accepting that powerful position.

Recently, Anselm had taken issue with the fact that archbishops do a lot of work.

Specifically, they have a lot of secular duties in addition to their strictly religious duties.

And

he didn't want to do that.

Now, thankfully, the king was able to punt this issue over to the bishops because this was a religious matter and they wanted Anselm as badly as Rufus did.

And the bishops told Anselm that he didn't need to worry about any of that, because he would be relieved of those pesky secular tasks, and someone else would do them instead.

With that out of the way, Anselm could now move on to another requirement that absolutely must be met before he could even consider accepting the position.

It was a minor matter that the clergy should have no problem agreeing to.

If Anselm was to accept the role of Archbishop, nobody in the English church could question him.

Ever.

Anselm would be obeyed, period.

And I have to assume that as he was issuing this proclamation, the Bishop of Rochester was lowering him into a mud bath and putting little cucumber slices over his eyes.

But the bishops heard this request, and they agreed.

But Anselm wasn't done yet.

In fact, this list of requirements went on and on.

And here's the thing about Anselm's refusal.

At the same time that he was telling Rufus and the English bishops that he couldn't possibly take the archbishopric, He was writing back home to his brothers at Beck, and in those letters, he takes a very different tone.

Now, Enselm does describe his election to the archbishopric as more of an act of violence than an actual appointment, and I totally agree with him on that.

But what he writes about next seems to give the game away.

He writes that despite the way it happened, the election was an act of God, and so he must accept it.

That is quite a statement to make in private when in public you're saying the exact opposite.

That the appointment was invalid, that you can never accept it, that, you know, you might consider accepting it, but only if you give him fabulous cash and prizes.

So taken together, Anselm, at least to me, looks a lot less like a reluctant appointee and much more like a shrewd negotiator who clocked Rufus right away and realized that this king loved a chase.

And at this point, Anselm must have grown confident in his strategy, because with his next demand, he really swung for the bleachers.

The abbot said that he wanted to name his own replacement at Beck.

And that's a tricky demand, because the monks at Beck had their own people in mind.

Furthermore, technically, no one in England had any real authority over that abbey.

Now, you might expect that Beck Abbey would actually be all in for Anselm's guy and would want to do whatever they could to see the appointment through.

After all, they were the ones who sent Anselm over in the first place, and they were baffled when he didn't immediately accept the archbishopric.

But Anselm told the king that the monks of Beck were refusing his demands.

And, you know, he simply wouldn't feel right becoming archbishop until someone convinced the monks to appoint his chosen guy as the next abbot.

And I don't know if it was the chase instinct or the sunk cost fallacy, or if Anselm had some kind of magic charisma or what, but Rufus promised to get the monks of Beck to agree to Anselm's demand.

And that wasn't exactly a simple task, because against all odds, Rufus was actually having much more success negotiating with Duke Robert, who was currently livid with him over all the king's broken promises.

And yet it was the monks of Beck who were digging their heels in.

Which makes me think that the abbot wasn't the only one who clocked Rufus.

Either way, though, it seems like things were getting out of hand.

And even worse, this wasn't the only negotiation that Rufus was dealing with, because there still was the matter of Scotland.

Malcolm had refused the invite to come to England.

Now, given how Rufus approached promises, it's not hard to see why the King of Scotland refused.

And so, trying to sweeten the deal, Rufus dispatched Malcolm's brother-in-law, Edgar the Athling, to try and convince the monarch to, pretty please, just come down to England and discuss this conflict.

And you might remember that the last time that we heard from Edgar, he was on a boat headed for Normandy with Robert.

So Rufus must have sent for him at some point during these negotiations.

And Robert, as always, must have bent to his brother's needs, though we aren't given specifics as to how this was all arranged.

But meanwhile, the business of court kept churning, which meant that the king and his courtiers were moving from place to place this entire time.

And early on during these negotiations, he was in Dover and meeting with the Count of Flanders.

But this has been going on for ages.

We're talking about months of negotiations for Rufus, and, I'm assuming, months of Hungarian face massages for Anselm.

In fact, it had gone on so long that by the point that they were able to move on from Dover, it was already summer, which means that the campaigning season was almost over, and Rufus hadn't gone on a single campaign.

Instead, he had spent this whole time doing the thing that he liked least: diplomacy, first with the Almighty, and then with the Almighty's representatives.

It had been exhausting.

But at long last, last, the barriers had been cleared.

All the promises that Anselm had raised were now dealt with, and all of his requests had been granted.

The monks of Beck had even agreed, under quite a lot of royal pressure, to select his chosen successor.

It was finally done.

And so Rufus mobilized his court and headed to Rochester to share the good news with Anselm.

And once there, Anselm told Rufus that he couldn't be the Archbishop of Canterbury.

At least, you know, not under the current terms.

You see, he had some more requirements for Rufus.

But if you think about it, really, Jesus had more requirements for Rufus.

First, Canterbury wasn't the same that it had been in years prior due to the king's land seizures.

So if Rufus really wanted Anselm to serve in this role, then Canterbury would need to be restored to the same state that it had been when Lanfrank had died.

Second, lands had been lost even before Lanfrank died, and while the old Archbishop had tried to recover them, he failed.

So if Rufus was really serious about this appointment, he would need to fix that and restore all of those lands too.

Third, this is an important role.

The Archbishop would be guarding the souls of everyone in the kingdom, including the king himself.

And so, it only makes sense that whoever fills this role should also hold an equally important political role.

Specifically, if the king wanted Anselm to be the archbishop, well, he would also need to be the king's chief counselor.

Fourth, King Rufus hadn't yet recognized the papacy of Pope Urban II, and, you know, it just wouldn't be right to take the role until the king did.

And for that matter, the king would also need to agree to be subject to and obey Pope Urban II.

Holy shit.

Stunned by the monk's boldness, Rufus called in the Bishop of Durham, who was his main counselor at this point, as well as his uncle, Count Robert of Moulin.

And he told Anselm to repeat what he had just said.

And then, after some consultation, the king came to a decision.

He wasn't sure if he should recognize Pope Urban II, and so he needed some time to think it over.

He also wasn't sure what to do about the lands that Lanfrank didn't own when he died, because you have to admit, that's kind of a strange request.

How do you even begin to identify the estates in question?

So, like the Pope issue, Rufus needed some time to think it over.

But he would be happy to hear Anselm's thoughts and guidance on it as he was considering it, it, meaning Anselm was gonna get that advisory position.

And as for the lands that belonged to Canterbury while Lanfrank still lived, but had since been seized by the crown?

Well, Rufus promised that if Anselm agreed to serve as Archbishop, those lands would be returned.

And here's the thing with Rufus and his court.

I think they understood Anselm.

And they recognized that he wanted land and power.

And the only question here was how much to give him.

I think that's why he was promised an influential political role in court, and he was given a boatload of estates in Canterbury.

But as for the proper religious matters, like submission to the papacy, well, I think they correctly identified that Anselm was less likely to fight for that.

So they punted.

And, you know, they were right, because Anselm accepted the terms.

Now, obviously, this flies in the face of the story that Edmer is trying to sell.

That Anselm had no interest in politics, wealth, or worldly things, and that he was a godly man who was forced into this against his wishes.

Because Anselm had just expertly negotiated himself into worldly titles, worldly estates, a worldly position at court, and a bunch of worldly cash.

Now, historian Frank Barlow argues that this might have all been four-dimensional chess, and that Anselm didn't really want those things.

He didn't even really want to to be the Archbishop.

Anselm just wanted to be so annoying that Rufus would pick someone else.

But if that was the case, don't you think he'd stand his ground and insist on all the other requirements?

Especially the religious ones?

Rather than being quite satisfied with cash, lands, and titles?

Also, when this alleged gambit failed, and he was still on track to officially become archbishop, Anselm didn't refuse any of those worldly things.

He took them, and there's no mention that he was sad about that.

So I think Barlow is giving Anselm way too much benefit of the doubt.

And instead, I suspect the story here is much more simple and straightforward.

If it looks like an aristocrat, and it negotiates like an aristocrat, and it has goals like an aristocrat, it's probably an aristocrat.

And I think that's why Rufus and his court were able to lock this deal down in the way that they did.

However, transferring all of that land was going to take time, and there still were other matters to be handled.

So the court moved on to Windsor, and Anselm remained behind, still not the Archbishop.

And after handling some political matters in Windsor, I'm guessing there was some amount of wrangling taking place regarding those lands that Anselm demanded, because Rufus didn't just seize lands, he also distributed them among his loyal followers.

Well, the court moved on again, this time time to Gloucester.

Meanwhile, up north, King Malcolm met with Edgar, and whatever the athlings said to the Scottish king had worked, because on August 11th, Malcolm arrived at Durham, and he took part in helping lay the foundation for a new cathedral in the city.

Then he began riding south to join Rufus' court in Gloucester.

And King Malcolm didn't ride alone.

He was escorted with a great deal of pomp by a bunch of English officials and high-ranked clergy.

And just under a fortnight later, on the 24th of August, Malcolm arrived in Gloucester, ready to meet with Rufus and hear the king's plan to fulfill his end of the bargain.

And you have to admit, the Scottish king was in a pretty good negotiating position.

Even Rufus' own nobles were recognizing that their king wasn't upholding his oaths.

And conversely, Malcolm was acting the very model of an upstanding and diplomatic king.

And he was doing such a good job of it that the Northumbrian nobility and clergy were escorting him in high honor.

And if politics and diplomacy weren't enough, there was also the fact that Malcolm was holding Rufus's hostages.

So you have to imagine that when Malcolm rolled into Gloucester on the 24th of August, he was expecting Rufus to be contrite, or at least conciliatory.

But Rufus wasn't contrite.

He wasn't conciliatory.

He wasn't even diplomatic.

Instead, he declared that Malcolm was unworthy to hear his royal voice, and so he straight up refused to even meet with him.

And this was after insisting that the Scottish king ride all the way down to Gloucester.

I mean, even for a king, this was some diva nonsense.

Which, on the one hand, yeah, this is Rufus.

Even when he had no titles, no lands, no soldiers, and no power, he thought it was a great idea to literally piss on the heir to the crown.

And frankly, that degree of crass norm violations had worked out pretty well for him.

So maybe this was his plan all along.

But on the other hand, sending hostages and even getting Edgar the Athling involved does give the impression that at least initially, he really did want to meet with Malcolm.

So suddenly pivoting and becoming insanely antagonistic seems strange.

And I wonder if Rufus was just lashing out at Malcolm in the same way that he'd been lashing out at pretty much everyone but Anselm ever since he recovered from his illness.

But regardless of the psychology that was driving it, I have no doubt that the Scottish king was furious.

But at the same time, he was deep in English territory when Rufus pulled this move.

and you don't reign as long as King Malcolm can more by taking unnecessary risks.

So Malcolm mounted his horse and departed.

And Rufus, satisfied with whatever the hell that was, gathered his court and moved on to Winchester.

And you might be wondering what happened to those hostages that Rufus had sent to Scotland.

Well, I don't know, but the red king's behavior is why I suspect that they weren't anyone he actually cared about.

What he did care about, though, was getting Anselm to agree to become Archbishop.

And by September, all of the monks' demands had been met, even the new ones.

So Rufus summoned him back to court.

This ordeal had been going on for six months.

Six long months of Rufus telling Anselm that he doesn't get a vote on this and that he is definitely the Archbishop of Canterbury.

And Anselm saying that even if he wanted to be the Archbishop, he really couldn't due to

reasons.

But they were reasons that could be negated with gifts and concessions.

And then every time those concessions were made, the gold post moved.

I mean, I'm just reading about it and I'm annoyed by this whole thing.

So I can only imagine how infuriating it was to actually live through it.

But finally, all of the permissions have been obtained, and all the various requirements have been met, and so it was time to make an archbishop.

Anselm arrived at Winchester, and Rufus gathered with his court, and the unhappy couple were ready to formalize their union.

Though, there was just one small matter.

Some of those estates that Anselm demanded were proving to be difficult to formally transfer.

The nature of feudal ownership and the complex web of power relations meant that some of those properties were nearly impossible to obtain, even for a king.

But Rufus had a solution.

While he couldn't arrange for formal ownership of a few of those estates, he could still give Anselm all of the services from the fiefs, meaning all the money and all the duties.

So at least for the medieval aristocratic point of view, this really was a trivial thing and it shouldn't be a problem because it's basically transference in all but name.

And Anselm must have had quite the look on his face because Rufus immediately tried a different tactic.

And he asked the monk to just please grant him this one favor out of a love for him and his parents.

And Anselm told the king precisely where he could shove that request.

He wanted that land, all of it, with no conditions.

Rufus finally lost it.

And it's not hard to see why.

Anselm was beating Rufus at his own game.

And never in all of human history has a diva taken that well.

So the Red King exploded into a furious tirade in open court.

And the old monk was reportedly absolutely delighted.

And that reaction was like pouring kerosene on a fire.

We're not told specifically what he looked like, but I imagine he had an absolutely shit-eating grin.

And Edmur insists that actually, the reason why Anselm was happy was because he didn't want to be Archbishop, and he thought that this was finally going to get him out of it.

And

maybe?

But I kind of doubt it.

I think it's far more likely that Anselm realized that, yet again, he had outplayed the king and put him off balance, which, in turn, put the monk in in an excellent place to ask for even more concessions.

And sure enough, Edmer tells us that following the outburst, Anselm proceeded to negotiate pretty heavily with the king and extracted yet another series of promises out of Rufus.

And I feel like it's telling that Edmer doesn't tell us what the king promised Anselm.

Just like that first meeting between the two men, Edmer suddenly gets very quiet and simply tells us that the king made a bunch of promises, and afterwards, the monk agreed he would serve as archbishop.

I wonder what those promises were.

But regardless, Rufus, not wanting to risk the old bastard changing his mind yet again, had Anselm formally agree to the role right there and then.

He almost certainly had Anselm swear fealty and do homage.

And he might have had him properly invested with the ring and staff, since that first investigator was incredibly shady, though that is just a guess because, once again, Edmur is really quiet at this point.

But at last,

it was done.

I mean, there still would need to be a consecration at Canterbury, and that was scheduled for December 4th.

But for all intents and purposes, Anselm was the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Officially.

Rufus had finally done it.

And as he sat there, basking in his victory, I wonder if the king realized what he had just done.

Because he had absolutely no control over Anselm back when he was just a monk with no formal powers in England.

And now, this man was the foremost religious power in all of England.

I'm sure it'll be fine.

Meanwhile, while all of this was happening, King Malcolm Canmore was making his way home to Scotland.

But first, he needed to make a small detour.

You see, for some time now, his daughter, Edith, had been staying at an English nunnery, almost certainly Wilton Abbey.

And there she was being educated by her aunt, the Abbess Christina.

But given all the grievances and broken oaths, Malcolm decided that it was time for his daughter to come home.

While Rufus's behavior was appalling, Malcolm had learned through his long life that there are times where he needs to live to fight another day.

And sometimes, politics and diplomacy can be far more effective than the sword.

And he would have been well aware that at this point, the English were getting a bit concerned with their king's behavior.

He was also well aware that the North had been slowly realigning itself towards Scotland ever since the conquest.

And recently, the Northern Lords had shown themselves to be quite friendly to him, as they and their clergy had escorted Malcolm with high honor during this fruitless diplomatic trip.

So perhaps that could be exploited.

Now, the most influential and wealthy lord in northern England was a Breton Earl named Alan Rufus.

And unlike many of his Norman brethren, Alan had a reputation for being a good and honorable man.

He was also known for holding to that honor even when under pressure from his own king.

And critically, Alan was also unmarried.

And Malcolm's daughter Edith wasn't just a Scottish princess.

She was also a member of the deposed House of Wessex.

Matching that kind of pedigree to real military power could set some wheels in motion that might be big enough to crush even the likes of Rufus.

So, Malcolm went to the Abbey to collect his daughter.

And once there, he found young Edith, not in the attire of a student, as he expected, but veiled as a nun.

And Malcolm went apes.

He grabbed the veil, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it, all while, I'm sure, screaming invectives at the assembly.

Edith was prime marriage material, and this English nunnery had just taken her completely off the market by marrying her to Jesus.

What the hell?

And the nuns immediately insisted that Malcolm had the wrong idea here, and that Edith was still just an oblate and not a nun.

They told him that this veil was just a disguise, and that they had to make her wear it in order to keep her safe.

You see, only a little while ago, King Rufus and his knights had come to visit the nunnery.

And before Abbess Christina could stop them, the king and his men were already inside the gates.

Now the abbess had heard all kinds of horror stories about this man and his followers.

And Edith wasn't just dynastically important, she was also reportedly very beautiful.

And Christina knew enough about this king to fear for her niece's safety.

So thinking quickly, she rushed Edith into a private room, where she dressed the young girl as a nun so that, quote, when the king should see her, he would be deterred from an unlawful embrace, end quote.

Shortly thereafter, as Rufus was taking a tour of the nunnery grounds, he spotted Edith, and upon seeing that she was veiled, he immediately gathered his followers and departed, kind of in a huff, quote, showing quite clearly that he had come only on her account, end quote.

This

is a horrifying story, and it actually doesn't stand alone in the record.

Edmer also claims that Edith had to dress as a nun in order to avoid sexual assault by the Normans.

Edith was about 12 years old, by the way.

When Christina relayed the story, Malcolm gathered his daughter and immediately departed for Scotland, which,

yeah,

I would too.

Rufus was coming apart at the seams.

His behavior at Wilton, like his summons of Malcolm and his treatment of the church, doesn't read as someone with a clear strategy.

It comes off as someone who is acting out of pure spite.

Now, this part of Rufus seems to have always been there.

His childhood bared a lot of these signs, and if he was born today, I'm confident he would have been diagnosed with at least one or two disorders before he even left for college.

But...

The scribes wrote about how Rufus became his worst self after Lanfrank died, because there was no one left to control him.

And as unruly and defiant as Rufus had been, this actually escalated even further after his illness.

And it's not clear why.

Maybe fever barbecued his brain.

Maybe the fear of death made him snap.

But whatever it was, there's a change in the record, and it's a change for the worst.

Meanwhile, far to the north, Malcolm had crossed the border into his home kingdom.

And I imagine that he was trying to make sense out of the Red King's behavior, because honestly, I am too.

It feels like we're straying into territory adjacent to King Chulred and his gibbering with demons.

But whether the man was crazy or just that malevolent, the fact was you don't reign for as long as Malcolm Canmore by being naive or a pushover.

And while Malcolm knew to pick his fights and not to explode over every slight or offense, he also knew that there were times that demanded a response.

And this was one of those times.

The Scottish king could talk about peace and understanding all day,

but Rufus only understood the language of the sword.

And the Scots weren't powerless here.

While Rufus had seized Carlisle, Scotland remained a very serious threat.

And if you look at Rufus' movements following that attack, he didn't return to the north.

He didn't even go to the Midlands.

Rufus stayed far to the south and avoided pretty much everything north of the Thames, leaving the lands that are near to the Scottish border to be governed just by his chosen commanders and tended by his chosen settlers.

So Malcolm would take advantage of that.

The Scottish king summoned his army, and by that, I mean pretty much the whole thing.

He He also gathered his lords, his son and heir Edward, and even his brother-in-law and claimant to the English throne, Edgar the Athelane.

And he prepared to march.

If Rufus wanted war, he would have one.

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, you can reach me at thebritishhistory podcast at gmail.com.

And you can also join us on Blue Sky, we're at the BHP, and we're also on Reddit, we're our British History Pod.

We hope to see you over there.

Thanks for listening.