465 – Anselm Arrives

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Welcome to the British History Podcast.

My name is Jamie, and this is episode 465, Anselm Arrives.

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Rufus was once again the only brother in England.

Henry was somewhere on the border marches of Normandy, causing trouble and creating bastards.

And as for Robert, well, he had left for his duchy just a couple days before Christmas.

And it soon became apparent that he headed home not just to keep an eye on Henry, but also because Rufus had gotten on his last nerve.

It turned out that Rufus wasn't keeping up his end of the bargain.

Now, unfortunately, the scribes of the Chronicle don't tell us exactly how Rufus was failing to uphold his promises.

They merely say that Short Pants, quote, found but little truth of their agreement, end quote.

But if you take a closer look at the situation in Normandy, I think we can make an educated guess.

You see, the duchy was still a mess, and the main promise that Rufus made to Robert when they made their treaty was to help Robert stabilize things in Normandy.

And for a few months, he had done what he promised.

But then Scotland happened, and as a consequence, their agreement was put on hold.

And even though it wasn't part of their bargain, Robert even went so far as to cross the channel and help Rufus stabilize England.

But now Scotland had been handled.

And yet Rufus was still in England.

And that was a problem because back on the continent, Henry was raiding Normandy, the duchy was overrun by rebellious barons, and Maine was still being deeply Maine.

Making matters worse, Robert was even losing members of his own council to Rufus.

For example, the Bishop of Durham had been serving as one of the chief counselors for Robert.

But then this treaty happened, and since then, he'd been counseling Rufus, not Robert.

Now, granted, Robert could always take some solace in the fact that it was Rufus, so it really was only a matter of time before he drove the bishop up the wall.

But the fact was that the man had been one of Robert's boys, and now he was hanging with the Red King.

And that had to sting a bit, especially since he wasn't the only one who made this switch.

We see a whole bunch of Normans populating the court of King Rufus during this period.

And many of them were very effective courtiers who will go on to make a serious political mark upon Britain and England.

And so this was a big problem for Rufus because a lot of the best and brightest were now going to England.

And in the words of historian Frank Barlow, Barlow, when you look at the development of the English court during this period, the keynote is stability.

That's what Rufus was building with these new acquisitions.

And that is cheeky when you think about it, because stability was supposed to be what Robert got out of this deal.

But here was Short Pants paying all the costs for the treaty, and Rufus was gaining all the benefits, including the benefits that should have gone to Robert.

Though, to be honest here, what did Robert really expect?

Promising the world to get what you want and then refusing to pay the bill once it arrives is how this family has always done business.

I mean, at one point, their own father stiffed the papacy for pity's sake.

If the House of Normandy had a Game of Thrones style motto, it would be, promises are for suckers or we do not pay.

And Rufus was the very model of the House of Normandy.

In fact, when Rufus was younger, he was taken a bit to task by Landfrank because he was failing to keep his oaths.

And in response, he angrily shot back to the Archbishop, quote, who can keep all his promises, end quote.

As if that's just too big of an ask for any human being, and everyone bails on their promises.

So yeah, Robert really should have seen this coming.

But regardless, the fact was the Duke had fulfilled his promises and he had also crossed the channel to support his brother in his time of need.

And so now it was really getting on his nerves that Rufus was doing nothing in return.

We don't even have a record of him wishing Robert good luck and offering him a supportive pat on the back.

Though, in all fairness to Rufus, even if he wanted to hop on a ship and go crack some heads in Normandy, he probably couldn't.

Or at least, he really shouldn't.

Not if he wanted to stay king.

Because while Rufus had claimed victory over Scotland, it's really one thing to say that you were the victor, and it's quite another thing to actually be the victor.

And everyone, including Rufus, knew that he hadn't actually won a damn thing.

Even worse, that treaty with Scotland didn't really resolve anything between Malcolm and Rufus.

There were still buckets of bad blood that sat between them.

And Scotland remained very much a threat to Rufus and to the House of Normandy.

Because here's the thing.

While it isn't typically discussed this way in pop history, the Norman conquest was primarily a southern affair.

I mean, sure, they did seize the crown to all of England, but the lands north of the Ribble and the Wandsbeck remained outside of Norman settlement plans.

And that's not due to a lack of ambition or avarice.

The Normans clearly had both in spades.

This was a problem of manpower.

The Normans absolutely flooded the country with knights and other settlers.

But it wasn't enough to replace the English.

And consequently, the Normans remained a minority population, even in heavily settled regions.

And the north was not heavily settled because it was the north.

It was incredibly difficult for outsiders to control.

I mean, hell, it's difficult for insiders to control.

And this has been the story of the north since at least the time of the Romans.

And I wouldn't be surprised if it went even further back than that.

The north liked to rumble.

And so, lacking the raw numbers that they needed to subdue the north, the Normans focused their settlement activity on the south and the midlands.

Whenever they ventured north, they primarily went on campaigns of extermination and simply left the region bare.

And needless to say, that is not an effective governing strategy.

And so in the 25 years after the conquest, there had been a dramatic withdrawal from the north.

But while the Normans couldn't hold it, maybe another power could.

And even further to the north sat Scotland.

And sitting on that throne was one of its longest reigning and most effective monarchs.

All the way back in 1058, Malcolm took command of Scotland.

And at that time, it was a kingdom in turmoil.

And he sat on a throne that was marked by dynastic violence and murder.

This was a kingdom that gave us Macbeth.

And those of you with very sharp memories will remember that actually it was Macbeth who had killed Malcolm's father, Duncan.

And then it was Malcolm who had taken his revenge and killed Macbeth.

And while Shakespeare made Macbeth famous, the fact was that exchange was nothing new for Scotland.

This really was a chaotic kingdom.

And so when Malcolm took the throne, I doubt anyone expected him to live all that long.

And yet, Malcolm had outlasted damn near everyone in Scotland, and the other nearby kingdoms for that matter.

Malcolm was old.

But beyond being very long-lived, Malcolm was also a very active king with a keen interest in English politics to boot.

And even though now, in the 1090s, he was getting really old, he was still very interested in what was happening to the south of his borders.

And given how the Normans abandoned the north, that was a border that was moving farther south by the day.

So even though Rufus had claimed victory, you can see why Scotland remained quite a concern for him and why he wasn't interested in traveling across to Normandy just yet.

Especially since that treaty really didn't resolve anything between the two men.

And here's another thing about King Rufus.

The guy was combative.

I mean, it was only last year where he took a detour and attacked Wales on his way to attack Scotland.

And that wasn't even out of character for him.

I mean, this guy as a young child had a reputation for punching his way out of problems.

And if he didn't have any problems, well, he'd start throwing punches until he did.

Rufus was not the kind of guy to sit around and wait to see what King Malcolm did.

He liked to be the one who took the first move.

And the Red King had recently got an idea.

While the threat of invasion was very real, Malcolm wouldn't be able to launch an invasion if he was too busy defending his own territory from an English invasion.

And so, Christmas in the English court had a little less holiday cheer this year and a little more poring over maps and sending out orders.

Because they were going to war.

And their target was Cumbria.

Now, in centuries past, the English crown had exercised authority over that territory.

But for decades now, it had been under Scottish control, and its southern portion was now being governed by the sons of Earl Gospatrick, you know, the guy who had rebelled against the conqueror.

And so these days, that territory and its nobility were politically and dynastically linked to Scotland, not Norman England.

And the biggest name in the region during this period, other than King Malcolm, of course, was Dolphin of Carlisle, who was likely the eldest son of Gospatrick.

And to give you a sense of how closely linked these families were, Dolphin's sister, the daughter of Earl Gospatrick, was married to Malcolm's eldest son and heir.

So what we're looking at here is basically an extension of the Scottish royal family plonked down in Cumbria.

And if you were a ruddy king who liked to fight and you really wanted to antagonize the hell out of the king of Scotland, I dare you to find a better target than Cumbria.

And so, Rufus began his preparations for war.

Now, unfortunately, I'm not sure precisely how early he began his preparations, but I'm guessing that there is a bit of an interruption in the process because John of Worcester opens his entry for the year of 1092 with the line:

The city of London was almost entirely destroyed by fire.

And that's not going to be the last time that happens.

I mean, name a more iconic duo than London and matches.

But that fact aside, I'm guessing the fire caused a bit of a delay in preparations.

Because it wasn't until May of 1092 that Rufus and his massive army were finally ready to go.

But delays aside, they quickly made up for lost time.

We're told they successfully invaded Cumbria, advanced directly on Carlisle, then seized the town and drove Dolphin from the region.

Now this was an enormous surge northward for the English.

They were in lands that had been under Scottish control for generations.

But at the same time, their closest support these days was either across the Pennines or far to the south.

So don't think of this as some sort of skirmish within English lands or a single seizure of a nearby town.

They were deep in foreign territory at this point.

And what this was, was the opening of a fresh conquest.

And so of course, Rufus did what any good Norman commander would do during a conquest.

He plonked down a big fk off castle and then installed a garrison and a sheriff within it to keep that territory under his control.

But military occupation really only takes you so far.

If Rufus wanted to hold this territory long term, the people of Carlisle would need to begin to see themselves as his subjects and understand themselves as culturally linked with his dynasty.

Rufus needed to win some hearts and minds.

And that's a tricky prospect.

But it's not impossible.

And in the 11th century, if you really wanted to get in your subjects' heads, what you needed to do is define their relationship with God.

And so, to that end, Rufus decreed that Carlisle would now be under the spiritual purview of his new best friend, the Bishop of Durham.

Now, this was obviously a double-edged sword, because on the one hand, a bishop could exert a huge amount of influence upon the public.

But on the other hand, a bishop could exert a huge amount of influence on the public.

I think the best way to understand what was happening here is to view bishops as medieval thought leaders, because that's essentially what they were.

And they got this power regardless of whether or not they had particularly good thoughts.

Some of them had downright terrible thoughts.

And can you imagine living in a culture where some otherwise random guy is able to influence the opinion of about half the population without really having any stake in governance or expertise on the topics he's talking about?

Yeah, I'm glad we've moved on from that.

Anyway, so bishops were powerful, and they could significantly sway public sentiment if they chose to do so.

And at the end of the day, What Rufus wanted was for Unfirth to see himself as politically and culturally aligned with the House of Normandy.

And the Bishop of Durham could deliver that for Rufus.

Though at the same time, like any influencer, the bishop wasn't easily controlled.

He needed to be incentivized.

And so Rufus was raising the guy's profile, and he was giving him extra attention.

And he was doing this in hopes that it would inspire the bishop to spend his time convincing the public that Rufus was a good guy, and presumably spend less time convincing Unfirth of the benefits of whatever the medieval equivalent of jaw maxing was.

So that was the gambit.

And you got to admit, it was a hell of a risk because this was the Bishop of Durham.

He was a guy who had shown through long experience that he could be friendly with Rufus today,

but he had absolutely no problem going head to head with the crown tomorrow.

And so the fact that Rufus was relying on that guy to help him solidify his hold on the north tells you everything you need to know about how limited his options were.

Then again, it also seems like Rufus realized how bad it was that he was relying on a medieval influencer because he also put into place a backup plan.

He wasn't just trying to change the minds of the public, he was also doing whatever he could to try and change the public itself.

And so pretty much as soon as the fighting was done, Rufus began settling Carlisle with people that he had brought up from the south.

And he sent with them livestock so they could set up their farms and begin working immediately.

And if you're wondering what happened to the people who had previously been farming on that land, back when it was under Scottish control, yeah,

I'm wondering the same thing.

Given the way this family treated the North, I'm guessing it was nothing good.

But the point here is that the reconquest of the North was officially underway.

And Rufus, being Rufus, didn't seem all that worried about what Malcolm might do in response.

If anything, he seems to have been trying to get a rise out of Malcolm because the Red King was also making moves that suggest that he was anticipating some sort of Scottish response.

The taking of Carlisle was only the first step here.

His real work began on the day after, because Rufus and his supporters would now have to hold this city.

And to see that task through, Rufus granted Carlisle and quite possibly all of Cumberland to Ranulf, who was the nephew of the powerful Earl Hugh Lupus of Chester.

Once appointed, Ranulf then appointed his brother and also his brother-in-law to positions of power within his new territory.

And so what we're seeing here is the Normans digging in.

But Rufus wasn't done.

He also granted Westmoreland to his own steward, Ivo de Talabois.

And do you remember Ivo?

He was the guy who just happened to have witches on speed dial.

Well, in spite of it all, he was still kicking around and he'd been clearly doing well for himself and had risen from guy who knows rather strange elderly ladies to steward of the king.

And who knows, maybe those two things are related.

Regardless, he was now also the Lord of Westmoreland.

And he was expected to hold that territory against whatever Malcolm threw at him.

And considering that this was Ivo, I'm guessing that his strategy for that task involved a lot of lateral thinking.

But the point is that with these military incursions and appointments, Rufus had pushed the border of England north all the way to the Salway Firth and the Little.

And that's a significant accomplishment considering how far south it had drifted during the life of the conqueror.

Now, the king's actions on the eastern side of the kingdom were less dramatic, but still important.

You see, rather than pressing north from the Tyne, Rufus instead issued a series of land grants.

Guy of Balliol was granted Barnard Castle in Durham and the Barony of Bywell in Northumberland.

Another man, who was likely a relative of Guy, was established even farther north in Reedsdale.

And Robert de Rumilly was granted the Barony of Skipton in West Riding.

Now, all of this means that rather than extending his border on the eastern flank like he had done on the western flank, instead, Rufus was strengthening his existing position on the Tyne, all while providing Newcastle with a network of nearby allies that they could call upon in a crisis and tighten the defenses of the region.

And that's important because if Newcastle and the Tyne were better defended, then the Earl of Northumberland might be able to begin to operate a bit further afield, rather than needing to stay close to the Tyne.

So basically, while the Western side was seeing a bunch of military advances taking place, on the eastern side, what we're seeing is the setting up of future military operations.

So, while the events of 1091 weren't nearly as victorious as Rufus claimed they were, 1092 told a very different story.

And this was definitely a year of victory for Rufus.

No spin needed.

And as far as the Red King was concerned, this was only the beginning because the pieces were now lined up for his next campaign.

And the only trouble here was the weather.

All of this marching around and conquering and London fires, not to mention all the issuing of land grants and other things, well, it all had taken time.

So much time, in fact, that the campaigning season had come to an end.

And considering how many men and horses Rufus had lost when he campaigned in the fall of 1091, he decided he wasn't going to push it again.

And so he and his forces retired to the south and began their preparations for the following year.

But Rufus still had plenty of work waiting for him down south.

You see, according to Edmur, Hugh Lupus, the powerful Earl of Chester, and quote, many other noblemen of the English kingdom, end quote, had reached out to Abbot Anselm of Beck.

They asked him to come to England and help right the ship of state.

It turns out they had some serious concerns about the morality of the kingdom.

And if you remember a few episodes back, we discussed the rumors of Rufus' sexuality, specifically his alleged homosexuality.

And I told that story at the start of Rufus' reign because those rumors are often one of the three things that people may have heard about Rufus, assuming they've heard anything about Rufus.

And you'll remember from that episode that those rumors were based largely upon Orderic, Malmsbury, and Edmur, who for the most part were scandalized by court fashion choices.

Apparently, younger knights had taken to wearing sexy little caps and curved shoes, and they walked about with some form of grace.

And worst of all, they had grown their hair out.

All of this was just too much for godly men to handle.

And you could revisit the medieval culture war in episode 457, The Bachelor King.

But among the complaints of suggestive shoes were also accusations of adultery.

And actually, the Welsh annals go so far as to claim that the rumors of immorality that surrounded Rufus were due to the fact that he had concubines and he had not produced a legitimate heir.

And they argue that this was the reason why Henry was seen by many as a preferable alternative to Rufus.

And that is a weird statement because Henry was cranking out bastards like it was his job.

And at this point in his life, not one of this small army of children was legitimate either.

But the point here is that all of these salacious rumors were actually swirling around at this part of Rufus' reign.

And Edmur tells us that the situation had become so bad that earls were actively seeking the intervention of holy men.

But if you look closer, you get a different story.

Because right away, Edmer's slant comes sharply into focus.

Because it turns out, Hugh was not inviting Anselm to England because he was worried about the king's sex life.

No, Hugh was worried about his own soul.

You see, Hugh Lupus wasn't getting any younger, and it was becoming increasingly clear to him that he wasn't in the running for sainthood.

If anything, after all the things he'd done in his life, he was in the running for employee of the year for the other guy instead.

And he was realizing that it was only a matter of time before he'd be face to face with the Almighty.

And so, in an attempt to grease divine palms, Hugh decided to found a monastery at St.

Wehrburg's.

And because he was going all in on this spiritual gladhanding, he wanted Anselm to come in and spirit the place up a bit.

And Anselm agreed.

But I feel like this is where Edmer really gives the game away.

Because he says that Anselm accepted the invitation because he wanted to directly address some concerns he had about England.

Specifically, he was worried about the fact that after Lanfrank died, Rufus had, quote, oppressed the churches and monasteries throughout England most harshly, end quote.

And that was the fact that was probably front of mind for the old abbot.

You see, when Lanfrank died in 1089, Rufus was expected to appoint the next Archbishop of Canterbury.

But Orderic tells us that his advisor, Bishop Flambard, had a different idea instead.

Why not leave the seat open and collect the revenues of the see for yourself?

Rufus thought this was a great idea.

And so that's what he did.

Following the death of Landfrank, Canterbury had no archbishop.

And all of the revenues from the sea were getting seized and placed under royal control.

Cha-ching.

But let's be honest here.

If you have a good idea, there's no reason to limit yourself to using it only once.

And all of these wars and all of the cross-channel intelligence operations and all of the bribes, well, they were expensive.

They were so expensive that the construction of the White Tower had to be paused for a time.

And so Rufus was actively seeking alternative sources of revenue, either in direct seizure of land or through increased tax rates.

And this was a policy change that had cross-channel implications.

You see, ever since the conquest, landownership and aristocratic ties had become a cross-channel endeavor.

Consequently, these new policies were directly impacting people on the continent, including Anselm's home abbey of Beck.

It turns out they were getting hit pretty hard by these taxes thanks to remaining tied with the English population.

And so Beck wanted a reduction in their geld.

And right on cue,

here comes Anselm.

So chances are, Anselm's visit was motivated less by the king's sex life and more by the king's tax and real estate policies and the fact that Hugh was studying for his finals.

Now Edmur tells us that actually deep down Anselm was quite reluctant to make this trip.

Why?

Well, it's because he was worried that he might be made the Archbishop of Canterbury.

And Edmur assures us that he really didn't want that.

Which feels a bit to me like Travis Kelsey saying, I don't want to go to a Taylor Swift concert because I'm worried she might want to date me.

And we should definitely keep in mind that our source here is Edmer, and Edmer is anything but unbiased.

He was Anselm's personal chaplain, and his vita is literally making the case for Anselm's sainthood.

So while he does have a lot of proximity to Anselm and can give us a really clear view on some of the aspects of what happened here, he also has a slant.

And in his writing, Edmer emphasizes this theme of Anselm's reluctance, portraying him as a tragic, pious figure who was on a collision course with the sinful and explosive King Rufus.

Now, to be clear, his Vita is an account of events that actually happened.

But Edmer does have a perspective and a goal, and that influences how he portrays the characters and events.

And so the trick for us is to try and figure out where fact blends into fiction.

And Edmur's admiration for Anselm very well may have been genuine.

But at the same time, historian Sally Vaughan makes a strenuous and convincing case that far from being an innocent, pious man who was caught up in a world of politics that was beyond him, Anselm was actually a brilliant politician who knew how to wield the political and social power of the church to achieve his goals.

And one of those goals, ever ever since the death of Landfrank, had been to obtain the Archbishopric of Canterbury.

Though, if Sally Vaughan is correct on this, it may also be possible that Anselm's goals shifted once he actually met Rufus and he realized what kind of man he would have to work with.

Because there will come a point in his story where his reluctance to take up the Archbishopric definitely feels genuine.

But at this point in his story, I have a hard time taking Edmer's portrayal entirely at face value.

Especially since he lays it on pretty thick and seems to be doing what a lot of sources from this period do, sacrificing factual truth in pursuit of a deeper spiritual truth.

Because right from the outset, Edmer's narrative has holes in it.

I mean, that invitation sent to Anselm wasn't about the king's soul.

It was about Hugh's soul.

And the church's concerns were about money and titles.

And those were also the concerns of Anselm's own Abbey of Beck.

And despite Edmur's claim that Anselm really didn't want to go to England, the old monk made that trip fairly quickly.

And he arrived in Canterbury on the 7th of September, 1092.

And Edmur goes on to tell us that the monks immediately proclaimed him to be the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Right there on the spot.

And I assume everyone clapped.

And you know, maybe this really did happen, but it's really strange because these were churchmen.

And churchmen didn't have the ability to proclaim an archbishop.

Only the king could make an archbishop.

But Edmer says that this strange event had the feeling of prophecy.

And on the following morning, having been in England for less than 24 hours, Anselm announced that he was going directly to court to meet with the king.

The monks pleaded with him to stay in Canterbury a bit longer, or, you know, at least stay for the Feast of the Virgin Mary.

But Anselm was having none of it.

He wanted to meet with the only guy in the world who could make an Archbishop of Canterbury.

Meanwhile, over in court, King Rufus was reigning as a conquering hero.

He'd successfully fended off Robert's challenge to the throne.

He'd successfully waged a campaign against that same brother in Normandy.

And now he had brought Cumbria back under English control.

Rufus was feeling fing great.

And so when Anselm arrived, the king was in a hosting mood.

The abbot was immediately admitted into court and welcomed with great honor.

In fact, the king got up from his seat and went to meet the abbot at the door.

Rufus even went and took him by the hand and led him to his seat, where he and the abbot engaged in cheerful conversation for quite some time.

And this may have really happened, as we do have other accounts of Rufus portraying him as the very image of a medieval knight.

He was fun, gregarious, and the life of the party.

At least he was when he was in party boy mode.

And right now, Rufus was definitely in party boy mode.

So, if the monks and even some of his most powerful earls were excited about this guy, then he'd be excited about him too.

But after a little while, Anselm's demeanor changed, and he asked everyone else to leave the chamber.

And that's a bold move.

But amazingly, his audacity worked, because apparently the members of court obeyed him.

Suddenly, the two men were all alone.

And they could discuss whatever was on their minds in complete secret.

And here's the trouble with secret meetings.

We know as much about what went on in this meeting as the courtiers who were waiting outside knew.

But eventually, the doors flung open and Anselm, who was decidedly not the next archbishop, stomped over to Chester, where he stayed under the protection of the powerful Earl Hugh.

Now, presumably, as Anselm's chaplain, Edmer was told what happened in this meeting, but he decides to be coy about it in his record.

Edward completely avoids telling us what his boss told Rufus, and instead, he simply writes that Anselm was concerned that Rufus was doing things that, quote, by no means befitted the dignity of a king, end quote.

And that, quote, almost everyone in the whole kingdom daily talked about him, in private and in public, end quote.

And that's a statement that is so vague, it could mean just about anything.

But this right here is the beginning of the rumor that Rufus was homosexual.

Now, later scribes will add to it, but this is where it starts.

And while there doesn't seem to be any hard evidence, meaning no mention of paramours or even a single direct accusation, and while the accusations often kind of contradict themselves, or they seem aimed at people that Rufus was hanging out with rather than at the king himself.

But the fact was, people were talking about the king's immorality.

And the thing about rumors is that it doesn't really matter what someone did or didn't do with a couch.

What matters is that for a lot of people, it felt true.

And this is why I classify the work of Edmer as highly suspect on the subject of Rufus.

I mean, maybe I'm just scarred from social media, but what we're seeing here is the medieval equivalent of vague booking, and that's just an automatic red flag for me.

And Edmur actually makes it worse, because throughout his various works, he takes time to add in a few stories, which are all based entirely on hearsay, and all sound like something that you'd find on medieval Gawker.

Now, going into these stories would be a rabbit hole that would require multiple episodes, and there are also stories that simply don't pass the smell test.

But if you're interested, you can find a number of them in the Historia Novorum.

But here's the wildest part, and also why I'm not doing a multi-part series on these stories.

Edmer doesn't think that they passed the smell test either.

He basically says that he's not claiming these are true stories, just they're things that people are saying, and that Anselm thought they sounded like something Rufus would totally do.

Which apparently is enough?

I guess we can take comfort in knowing that Twitter only did so much damage, and the discourse was always this bad.

But back to this particular meeting.

So rather than telling us what Anselm and Rufus actually spoke to each other about, Edmer just implies that the king was up to no good somehow.

But then his writing suddenly pivots and he gets very clear.

And he assures us, dear reader, that Anselm definitely did not discuss any business about Canterbury or the church.

And that, too, is a bit of a red flag for me.

I mean, maybe it's just me, but if Z walked out of a room with a friend of mine and wouldn't say what they were discussing, but then did say, look, I will tell you that we were not talking about a surprise party, I would be expecting a trip to a karaoke bar in the near future.

Especially since Canterbury and ecclesiastical property was of paramount importance for the church.

Rufus had kept the powerful archbishopric vacant for three years years now, and he had seized all its income and was now infamous for imposing brutal tax policies to fund his military adventures.

And he wasn't exempting the church out of this.

And to give you a sense of how infuriated the men of the cloth were about the state of affairs, here's Orderic.

Quote, By Ranolph's advice, The young king, on the death of the prelates, took their churches with the domains attached to them from ancient times into his own hands.

And he set his couriers over the convents of monks and the deans and canons of the Episcopal Sees, allowing these a small pittance out of the revenues for their maintenance and applying the rest to his own purposes.

The king's covetousness thus impoverished the churches of God, and the iniquitous practice which commenced at this time has continued to the present day to the loss of many souls.

For the avaricious king, with this object, deferred appointing pastors to the churches, so that the people, having no guides and the flocks no shepherds, became a prey to the attack of wolves and perished from wounds inflicted by the winged arrows of their own manifold sins.

End quote.

Now I'm going to stop there, but Orderick goes on for literal pages about this.

So yeah, everyone in the English church was well aware of what was going on, and they were furious.

And yet here we have Edmur trying to convince us otherwise by saying, look, yeah, the church in England was facing an existential threat, and it was terrible, but Anselm never really got around to talking to Rufus about it because the king's court was just too goddamn gay.

And maybe the court was gay, but I am not buying this.

Because even if Anselm was appalled by whatever was happening in court, the fact was that Rufus and Ranolph had cooked up a crown policy that could eventually end with every ecclesiastical institution coming into the king's hands.

The church had a serious problem here, and I simply do not believe they weren't focused on it.

Instead, I think this was a power struggle.

And while Rufus had a crown and an army, The church had weapons of its own.

They could shape public perception.

If the church decides it's in its interest, it can ruin you above and below.

And I don't think it's a coincidence that Anselm's personal chaplain was cranking out gossip in his historia like he was working for TMZ and sowing veiled accusations in his vita.

I'm also not shocked that fellow churchmen like Malmsbury and Orderk jumped into the feeding frenzy and added details of their own.

And this campaign was effective.

And we know that because while I can't tell you whether or not the rumors were true, I can definitely tell you that we've been talking about it for episodes now.

And so is everyone else who's ever covered the reign of Rufus.

But given everything that was going on politically, socially, and economically, I suspect that what may have actually happened here was Anselm demanded that Rufus relinquish his hold on Canterbury and appoint him as Archbishop.

And Rufus refused.

I think this was the heart of the conflict between the two men.

And that might have been the true context of how these undignified things that everyone was talking about actually came up.

It could have been a threat, basically a last-ish effort.

And Malmsbury, writing about 30 years after these events, tells us that Rufus actually didn't want to offend the holy man because he was respected by both his father and mother.

And so, when those undignified things were brought up, he told Anselm that a man of his station couldn't escape rumors and gossip, but the old monk really shouldn't pay them any attention.

Which is possible.

Though I do wonder if Anselm might have realized that he got out over his skis or sensed something dangerous in the king's demeanor, because Edmur then reports that Anselm was, quote, obliged, end quote, to stay with Hugh of Chester for a considerable amount of time, implying that whatever was said, it hadn't been received all that well.

So that's my take on the whole thing.

Basically, the only people who knew what was really discussed were Rufus and Anselm, and neither man was talking.

So all we have is the vague booking of an unreliable churchman who comes off a bit like a gossip columnist whenever Rufus is discussed.

And he's talking about him in a project where he's making a very spirited case that Anselm was a godly man who was completely disinterested in power.

But whatever was happening here, Edmer and Anselm weren't working alone.

This was kind of a full court press.

For example, Over Christmas, some of the assembled churchmen in court went to Rufus and asked him if he would allow them to say prayers in churches across England, asking God to inspire the king to appoint a new Archbishop of Canterbury.

And at least one of Anselm's allies from Beck Abbey, a guy named Gilbert Crispin, just happened to be in attendance when these churchmen got this idea.

So I wonder who gave them this idea.

Now, Rufus was apparently outraged at the suggestion.

But once he cooled down, he realized who actually held power in this situation.

And he told them, quote, Pray what you will.

I'll do as I like, for no man's prayer will make me change my mind.

End quote.

Ignoring the snark in the king's response, the bishops then set about crafting a prayer to get the Almighty's attention.

Well, that's not entirely right.

The bishops were the ones disseminating the prayer, but the guy who wrote it was Anselm.

And this whole situation was clearly getting under the king's skin, because a little after Christmas, Rufus was meeting with one of his barons.

And the guy decided to spend his time in the king's presence just monologuing about how pious Anselm was and how little interest the man had in worldly things.

Which again is totally undercut by the fact that Anselm crossed the channel to go to Canterbury and then rushed to meet with the king less than 24 hours after some monks allegedly told him that they want him to be their archbishop.

And clearly, the king also caught on to that contradiction, because in response to this assertion that Anselm was just disinterested in worldly things, Rufus was like, really?

Nothing?

Not even the Archbishopric of Canterbury?

That least of all, said the Baron.

And Rufus, clearly not buying it, said, quote, Anselm would put his legs and hands to any use in order to get the Archbishopric.

Which, damn Rufus.

And the king added that this little charm offensive that they were doing was fruitless because, quote, neither he nor anyone else shall be Archbishop of Canterbury apart from me, end quote.

And so that was Rufus's 1092.

What should have been a victorious year spent basking in the success of his seizure of Carlisle and the recent victory in Normandy was instead spent dealing with rumors, accusations, and drama that was being cooked up by holy men.

And once the the drama was out there, it spread.

So pretty quickly, it wasn't just coming from the church, it was also coming from his own barons.

And I suspect all of this put a bit of a damper on the Christmas cheer of 1092.

But whatever, Rufus had a solution for that, something that always got him out of the doldrums.

War.

Over the winter, the king had moved his court west, and by late winter or early early spring of 1093, we find him stationed at one of Harold Godwinson's old manors in Alveston, near Bristol.

And this suggests that Rufus was planning on going into Wales to get some strike back for the recent drubbing he got during his last campaign.

Maybe.

The trouble is, we're not entirely sure.

And the reason for that is that Rufus was starting to feel a bit peaked.

And then he was feeling downright sick.

And it wasn't going away.

Instead, it was getting worse, like a lot worse.

Things in court began to look grim.

And the royal ville simply did not have the medical services that the king clearly needed.

Because make no mistake about it, Rufus was in a dire state.

We're told that everyone was convinced he was about to die.

In fact, there were even rumors spreading that the king was already dead.

Now as for what was causing this illness, the scribes don't tell us.

They don't even tell us what his symptoms were.

But we are told that they were convinced that God was punishing the king personally.

So, despite the king's terrible condition, they packed him up and made the 25-mile trek north to Gloucester.

Now this strategy was a bit of a twofer because Gloucester housed a great abbey and thus they could provide him some of the best medical care that an 11th century English noble could hope for.

And it also positioned him to be in an excellent place to find someone who could get Yahweh to call off the dogs.

The trouble though was that it wasn't working.

Despite whatever treatment he was receiving and whatever spiritual counsel he was listening to, Rufus wasn't getting better.

And it reached a point where even the king was convinced that God was furious at him and that he was going to die.

And while Rufus doesn't appear to have been particularly religious most of his life, now that he was staring death in the face, he had a sudden boost of faith.

The fact was, he'd already done denial, and as for anger, well, he basically lived in that state.

And so now, he was moving straight on to bargaining.

If God was mad at him, then the big guy must want something, right?

I mean, surely he wanted something.

So what was it?

Well, the bishops and barons were here to help.

They went to the king's bedside and started running through all the things that Rufus had done that had likely angered God.

And Rufus, in a surge of piety, did his best to make atonement.

And the first thing on his list was to fill the vacancy in Canterbury.

The barons and church figures wanted that to come to an end.

And wouldn't you know it?

They actually had someone in mind that they thought would make a really good Archbishop of Canterbury.

Anselm.

Now, Rufus and Anselm pretty clearly didn't get along.

And Rufus also had suspicions about the abbot's actual motives.

But sitting on death's door was changing the king's perspective.

And if God wanted a big show of piety, then f ⁇ it, he'd give him one.

And so on March 6th, The first day of Lent, from a religious service that was held near his sickbed, Rufus declared that Anselm should be the next Archbishop of Canterbury.

And Anselm said no, or in French, no.

Now, this naturally confused the hell out of his friends.

But pretty soon, that confusion turned to irritation.

Because based on his letters to Bach, it seems that the main issue here was that the old monk didn't like how suddenly the appointment was brought up.

I guess he must have been hoping for a bit more pomp and circumstance.

And that excuse was received about as well as you might imagine.

Because, what the hell, Anselm?

Who cares if this feels a bit fast for you?

Just take the goddamn pallium, and more importantly, take the money and the land back.

But Anselm wouldn't budge.

And it's possible that initially he'd wanted to take control of the sea, but now that he'd met Rufus and realized who he'd have to work with, he really didn't want to be archbishop.

And that sounds very plausible to me, especially given the fact that when the bishops were trying to convince him to change his mind, Anselm told them that they were trying to yoke an old sheep to a wild bull.

And if they succeeded in this, he would be dragged through the thorns and briars.

And the old man had a point here.

Rufus was famously uncontrollable.

Landfrank really was the only one who'd ever managed to wrangle him, and even then, only barely.

So these protests to the bishops and the letters to Beck strike me as genuine concerns.

But unfortunately for Anselm, those in the king's orbit had successfully convinced Rufus that he was going to die and go to hell, and the only way he could get out of this was to get in good with God and make Anselm the Archbishop of Canterbury.

So he wasn't backing down either, and he had Anselm brought to his sickbed.

The king, on the verge of tears, told the old man, quote, O Anselm, what are you doing?

Why are you delivering me to crucifixion and eternal punishment?

Remember, I beg of you, the true friendship which my father and mother had for you and which you always had for them.

And in the name of that friendship, I entreat you not to allow me, their son, to perish in both body and in soul.

I know for sure that I will perish if I die while still in possession of the Archbishopric.

So help me, Lord Father, and take it from me.

End quote.

The Red King then ordered everyone to fall at Anselm's feet and join him in begging the abbot.

In response, Anselm threw himself at their feet and begged them to spare him from the role.

And this this desperate move was the last goddamn straw for the assembled churchmen and courtiers.

And the men grabbed Anselm and tried to pry open his right hand so they could force the pastoral staff into it.

Anselm began screaming in pain and begged them to stop.

And as they could only loosen his forefinger, because apparently 60-year-old men have wicked hand strength, they decided that they would just hold the staff near his hand and call it good.

At which point, the assembled court and holy men shouted, Long live the bishop, and carried him to the nearby church where they could complete the ceremony.

Though they did sing hymns as they went so that they could cover Anselm shouting about how this didn't count and how what they were doing wasn't right.

How fed up is that?

I swear to God, there's no bottom with the Normans.

But anyway, some time afterwards, Anselm returned and he told Rufus that essentially what had just been done to him wasn't a valid investiture and he didn't accept it.

And besides, the king would recover from this illness regardless, so he could release him from whatever the hell this was that he just had done to him.

The trouble, though, was that the king didn't get better.

Rufus was so sick that he remained confined to his bedchamber for the entirety of Lent, which was about six weeks.

And as the illness dragged on, Rufus must have gotten more concerned because he kept doing things to get on the good side of God.

He started small, but then escalated rapidly.

For example, we're told he made a full confession and promised to change his ways, which is always a good start.

He then promised he would protect and defend the church.

He swore he would no longer practice simony.

He promised to abolish unjust laws, establish good ones, and make sure they were enforced by strictly enforcing justice.

He ordered the release of all his prisoners, said that all offenses were to be pardoned and all debts to be released.

Next, he appointed bishops to act as basically God's oath keepers to ensure that he would carry out these promises.

And he decided he would prove that he really meant it for real this time by having these promises laid out upon an altar.

He also filled two vacant bishoprics in addition to that shady appointment of Anselm to Canterbury.

And to seal the deal, he also gave a bunch of land to various monasteries.

He was doing everything he could to please God.

And eventually, sometime in April of 1093,

the king regained his health.

And now that his mind was clear, and now he was able to to get out of bed, it dawned on him that his belief that he was dying and the only way of escaping hell was to give fabulous cash and prizes to the church just happened to come from members of the church.

And as he thought about it, he started to feel taken advantage of.

And then he started to get angry.

Furious, in fact.

This was a defining moment for the king's view on the church.

And in Edmer's estimation, following this event, Rufus was even more hostile to the church than he had been before.

And as for all those promises he made,

well, as Rufus had once told Landfrank, who can keep all his promises?

Not the king, apparently.

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