457 – The Bachelor King

54m

William the Conqueror had not set his sons up for success, and at the heart of it was land. Obviously, the way he distributed those lands in his Will had been a bit of a disaster, as it had set his two eldest sons up for war.  


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Transcript

Welcome to the British History Podcast.

My name is Jamie, and this is episode 457: The Bachelor King.

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William the Conqueror had not set his sons up for success.

And at the heart of it was land.

Now, obviously, the way he distributed his lands in his will had been a bit of a disaster, as it had set his two eldest sons on the path for war.

And as for his youngest son, Henry, the conqueror didn't even bother to give him anything other than, I assume, a dismissive glance.

And chances are, Henry wouldn't have gotten anything were it not for the fact that his mother left him a bundle of cash.

So that's not great.

But the real damage that William had inflicted upon his sons wasn't in how he distributed his lands upon his death, but in how he kept land out of his son's hands during his life.

All three of the boys had been kept landless until the conqueror lay dying.

And that tight-fisted and controlling behavior meant that Rufus was in nearly as bad of a position as Henry was.

Which I know sounds crazy crazy considering that he'd been given England.

But if you remember, William had technically commended England to God, and had only placed Rufus on the throne as kind of God's trustee, you know, to take care of things until God got around to taking care of the business himself.

The whole thing was a bit of a weird move, even for the practices of the day.

And it was also strangely disempowering for Rufus.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg of Rufus' problems.

The real issue was that landless list that I had just mentioned.

Prior to inheriting the crown, Rufus hadn't held a single hide of land in England, and he didn't have any real experience in England.

And as you can imagine, that meant he lacked local alliances and regional political clout, you know, beyond the fact that he was the son of the previous William.

And so, as crazy as it might sound, Robert was actually in a stronger position than Rufus.

And Robert was in exile when William died, and William had used his last remaining breaths to talk shit about him.

But despite all of that, Robert had still spent time in Normandy before he was ruling it, and he'd used that time to develop ties with the up-and-comers of the new Norman aristocracy.

So he had political influence and alliances within Normandy in a way that Rufus didn't in England.

So basically, William had spent his life refusing to prepare his boys for rule, and then in his last moments on earth, he broke apart his cross-channel empire, weakened his boys even further, and then set them on the path to war.

Hell of a dad.

And we can see the extent of Rufus' weakened position in how he handled the aftermath of the failed coup.

The records we have seem to agree that once victorious, King William Rufus was single-mindedly bent on revenge.

I mean, oh my god, did he ever want revenge?

However, when we look at who actually got punished, only a few noble names make the list.

I mean, Odo, obviously, was banished and had his property seized.

The Bishop of Durham, despite his efforts at evading trial, was finally exiled and his properties were also seized.

The Mowbrays were punished, and the nephew of Bishop Geoffrey of Coutance appears to have been punished in some way as well.

But that's pretty much the list.

There's no sign that Bishop Geoffrey of Coutance himself faced any serious consequences for his actions.

And in fact, we can see that he continued to appear in court.

Additionally, Roger Bigot, the Grandsmanils, Gilbert Fitzrichard, the Clares, and all the rest apparently escaped consequences for their actions as well.

Hell, even Odo's brother and co-conspirator, Robert of Mortain, suffered little consequence for trying to violently depose the king.

So, what the hell?

I mean, if Rufus was so furious, where were all the righteous beatdowns?

Where were the seized lands and the long stays in dungeons?

Was Rufus just a paper tiger who couldn't follow through on vengeance?

Well, interestingly, probably not.

The reason why these rebels were able to just clock back into their day jobs as nobles was due to factors that were out of Rufus' control.

Culture and politics.

When we look at the list of those who faced punishment and those who weaseled their way out of it, We can see several distinct splits.

And the first one is how the Norman nobility viewed the men who followed their liege into war versus those who launched a war against their liege.

Even if both groups were trying to kill Rufus, the morality of that act was seen very differently depending on who you served.

You were supposed to act in line with who your service was pledged to.

So therefore, following your liege into a rebellion was actually the act of a loyal man who was serving a wrong-headed leader.

On the other hand, if you were launching a war against your liege, that was a profound dishonor.

So this means that Roger of Boulem, Eustace of Boulogne, and the other vassals of Duke Robert of Normandy had been enemies of Rufus, but they were enemies in that chivalric sense.

If they met in battle, they might get killed or captured, but they hadn't broken any kind of rules of war by fighting Rufus.

And this distinction accounts for a large group of the nobility who faced little to no repercussions for the rebellion, because a lot of them had been vassals of Duke Robert.

Now, it was a different story for King Rufus' vassals, because those people were his subjects.

Consequently, they owed him fealty.

And so the members of that group who had chosen to join this rebellion, well, they were criminals who were guilty of treason.

So surely, here is where we're going to see the fire of vengeance raining down upon the traitors, right?

Well, not quite.

The trouble for this lot was that enforcing the judgment was a bit trickier than it sounds.

In fact,

it was difficult to just bring the charges to a trial.

As we've seen with the Bishop of Durham, that task was made very difficult due to the internal politicking and, frankly, class solidarity that existed among the elite.

Rich people simply don't like seeing other rich people go to jail or be punished.

I guess it strikes them as indecent.

So, while the king wanted to pour fire and brimstone upon all who made an attempt upon his life and his reign, he was actually meeting quite a bit of resistance to that.

For example, some of the lesser nobles argued that they they were forced due to the demands of honor and power in chivalric life to follow their direct superiors into this rebellion.

And honestly, they had a bit of a point here.

In a situation like this, where your direct superior was in rebellion against the king, no matter what you did, someone who outranked you is gonna accuse you of treason.

And that tension would have been obvious to every noble in the kingdom.

And so charging these men wouldn't have been easy or popular.

Their station in the hierarchy inherently gave conflicting duties, thus making any attempt at a legal argument muddy at best.

And at this point, there was no clear legal guidance on how to proceed.

If Rufus wanted to press the issue, he would face long meeting after meeting where he was pitted against much of his court, as many many of these lesser nobles would have had political connections and family connections with figures much further up on the social hierarchy.

So if he pursued these lesser nobles, he would have been in an uphill battle and it would be one that would make him seem merciless and unreasonable.

And that's bad, because mercy and reasonableness were considered key characteristics of a good nobleman at this time.

And Rufus needed good will at this point.

So going after those lesser nobles with conflicting duties would have been a non-starter.

Now, as for the rest, the ones who freely chose this rebellion, well, that's where this would have gotten extra frustrating, because even charging them would have been difficult.

The fact was that far too many people in positions of power were closely tied to the rebels.

These rebels had the political connections that Rufus lacked.

And worse still, they were political connections that Rufus needed.

So the king was surrounded by powerful members of court who were all insisting that this rebellion business wasn't that big of a deal and that everyone should just move on.

Honestly, no matter which way Rufus turned, he found barriers to actually prosecuting the people who went into open rebellion against him.

And I suspect this is where Archbishop Landfrank came into it.

You see, Landfrank had been Rufus' tutor, and he was now serving as the king's chief advisor.

And it's not hard to see his influence pretty much everywhere.

I mean, this new king had spent his childhood picking fights with his elders, brawling with anyone who he could provoke into a fight, and he'd even started a civil war by peeing on a f ⁇ ing prince.

So hot-headed and impulsive would be stating it mildly.

And yet, when we look at Rufus's behavior during and after this rebellion, his actions were markedly restrained.

He didn't lash out or start fights.

He instead acted carefully and took into account the politics of the situation.

And I suspect that's because at the end of the day, he was doing what Lan Frank told him to do.

And rightly so.

I mean, given the newness and weakness of his reign, and the close proximity of his brother and enemy, Duke Robert of Normandy, King Rufus's options here were limited, at least for now.

Once his reign was more secure, well, then he might be able to revisit the issue.

But right now,

he was in no condition to be able to do so.

And so I'm guessing that the Archbishop spent quite a lot of time urging the new king to refrain from pissing into the wind.

And so I think that's why the record reports that even though the king wanted vengeance and he took it where he was able to, for the vast majority of the rebels, the only thing that Rufus could really do here was bide his time.

And speaking of time, a number of these rebels didn't have much of it left.

Robert of Mortain, Roger de Montgomery, the Grand Maniles, and Roger Bagot weren't exactly spring chickens.

So it's possible that with his hands tied, Rufus had decided to let the matter be handled by the cold, hard reality of actuarial tables.

Not as satisfying, but at least they'd be dead.

And probably sooner rather than later.

And so that's why we don't see a lot of punishment following this rebellion.

Though, while many of the Marquis rebels were evading prosecution due to the political and legal headwinds being faced by Rufus, it seems that a good number of those lower down on the social ladder recognized that this situation could flip once Rufus felt more secure.

And so they decided to act while time was on their side.

And according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, large numbers of them abandoned their properties, boarded ships, and headed to Normandy.

It probably wasn't the sort of victory that Rufus would have liked, but at least some of them were getting the hell out of his kingdom.

And in response, Rufus did what was expected of a victorious chivalric king.

He grabbed those abandoned properties and he gave them to figures who had stood by him during the rebellion.

especially those who were towards the top of the social hierarchy.

And so lands, titles, and even advantageous marriages were flowing freely to powerful men like William de Warren, Henry de Beaumont, and Alan Rufus.

The rich were becoming even richer.

And these new dynasties dug themselves into the political landscape of England, taking advantage of Rufus's need to secure his position in England and build alliances.

And this rush to build alliances was such a pressing issue that Rufus had even made alliances with figures who had ties with his treasonous uncle, Odo.

For example, Rufus kept Archbishop Thomas of York close to court and took care to treat him quite well, despite the fact that the Archbishop had a close connection to Odo.

And all of these efforts actually paid off.

I mean, months earlier, in 1088, things were so unstable that we can't even find find evidence that he held a Christmas court.

But after just a few months of this political push, by spring of 1089, we find England looking downright stable.

And Rufus was probably finally starting to feel a bit relaxed.

Not bad.

And then Archbishop Landfrank got a fever.

And on May 24th of 1089, he died.

Now, Landfrank had been involved in Norman England right from its earliest days.

In fact, it was Landfrank's student, Pope Alexander, who had originally greenlit Operation Seahorse all those years ago.

And for the last 19 years, ever since Stigand was forced out of power, he had held the See of Canterbury and wielded his power to strengthen the House of Normandy's grip upon England, even fending off challengers like William's ambitious and backbiting half-brother, Odo.

And, I think this part is truly instructive here, when church officials, including the papacy itself, were in conflict with the House of Normandy, Landfrank often sided with the House of Normandy.

On top of all this, Landfrank was also instrumental in the Norman policy of institutional replacement, that relentless, systematic removal of Englishmen from positions of any authority authority and the replacement of them with Normans.

The makeup of the church and the culture of the church in England was utterly remade by Lanfrank.

And under his control, the English church, with the exception of a few outliers like the Bishop of Durham, was walking lockstep with the House of Normandy.

And I can think of no better indication of the degree of authority and the level of institutional trust that was held by Landfrank than the fact that when the conqueror went to the continent, he often left the governance of England in the hands of the archbishop.

His ties to the crown were so strong, in fact, that he had even used information learned from confessions to foil rebellious plots, like when he blew the whistle on the revolt of the earls.

And we're not just talking about the reign of the conqueror here.

After all, it was Landfrank who had educated Rufus, and according to Malmsbury, Landfrank was still educating Rufus even after he became king.

And as for becoming king, it was likely Landfrank's influence that enabled Rufus to circumvent normal succession policies and take the throne, even as his elder brother lived and breathed.

Basically, when you look at the government of conquest and post-conquest England, Landfrank loomed large.

And now he was dead.

And probably for the first time in his life, Rufus was unbound.

He had spent his entire life being told what to do and how to behave by either his father or by his father's allies.

And now

all those voices were silent, and he could be himself.

And make no mistake about it, Rufus was a domineering man.

Ever since he was a child, he had shown that he had enjoyed conflict, and when dealing with those he saw as rivals, he could be aggressive and coarse.

Now, for his knights, well, that behavior was fine, and it actually paired well with his battlefield reputation for being a courageous, victorious, and this part is critical, lucky commander.

And all all of those qualities are very important for chivalric society.

But for those who aren't in chivalric society, for those who are not knights, well, Rufus' demeanor was less endearing.

In fact, Archbishop Anselm went so far as to compare the king to a wild bull.

And that was a criticism that was probably deserved.

But

while Rufus was an aggressive and domineering man in public, we're told he was a very different person when he was with his inner circle.

When it was just him and his crew, we're told that Rufus was a lot of fun.

He was always cracking jokes and possessing an easygoing demeanor.

And so it sounds like, with his inner circle of knights, Rufus was what we call on the West Coast, a chill dude.

He was a man who was generous, gregarious, and just fun to be around.

And so basically, this guy was a knight's knight.

And when he was around his bros, you get the sense he was just able to let his hair down.

And speaking of hair, apparently he had a lot of it.

Malmsbury tells us that Rufus had a red ginger complexion, and he was strong, broad, and a little chunky, and that he liked to wear his blonde hair long and parted down the center.

And reading this, I picture Axel Rose, but you know, stouter.

But stick a pin in that one.

Because despite the fact that Jesus had been depicted as having long hair for at least 700 years at this point, the church really didn't like men with long hair.

And a lot of it seems to be tied up in a single passage from Paul, where he basically accused dudes with long hair of being unmanly.

And I feel like Samson would probably have a thing or two to say about that, but whatever.

So, right off the bat, just based on his hair, the church wasn't super thrilled with Rufus.

And that was just the start of their various beefs with the king.

There's also the fact that when Archbishop Lanfrank died, Rufus was expected to appoint a successor.

I mean, that's how things normally went in England.

An archbishop dies, and a new one is appointed.

But Rufus let the See of Canterbury sit empty.

Now, personally, I think the church should have seen this one coming.

I mean, the king had just beaten back a rebellion that was led by multiple bishops who had burned and pillaged England from Bristol to Rochester.

And that's not even mentioning the insane affair with the Bishop of Durham that we discussed in the previous episode.

And after a year like that, I'm guessing that even the most pious king would be wondering if he really wanted to be associated with this church.

And the truth is that the crown in Canterbury had a long history of power struggles.

And it's going to continue for a bit longer.

So, yeah, I'm not surprised that he left the See of Canterbury vacant.

Rufus had only just managed to secure his reign, so he was probably in no rush to invite in a rival who would almost certainly challenge his authority in one way or another.

But, regardless of Rufus' motivations for keeping the seat unfilled, the church was about to take it really personally.

Another issue for Rufus, and another potential challenge to his authority, had to do with his relationship status.

Despite being about 30 years old, Rufus was unmarried.

And a bachelor king of Rufus' age during this era of history wasn't just a bit unusual.

It was downright concerning.

On a base cultural level, a king's court operating without a wife was seen as uncivilized, if not downright barbaric.

And this is because wives performed a very important and powerful role in court.

We don't usually think of women having a lot of power during this era of history, or most eras of history, if we're being honest.

And in many ways, and in many ways, there is truth in that assumption.

Medieval women were blocked from the level of autonomy and public power that men were traditionally afforded.

And this had serious consequences in the lives of the individual medieval women, who often found themselves vulnerable to violence, illness, and poverty on a level that the men of the same class weren't.

However, it is not correct to say that women had no power or influence.

We do unfortunately get that impression in the record, largely due to the fact that most of these records were written by monks.

And I'm just going to quote historian Frank Barlow here so that you know it's not just me opining.

Quote, Because monkish chroniclers were inclined to think that all active women were evil, the importance of women in early medieval society is often underrated.

End quote.

But if you know where to look, you can see the impact of female figures wielding power and influence.

And in one area of life, noble women held enormous amounts of power.

You see, in this culture, like in many cultures which split roles strictly along gender lines, power is divided into separate spheres.

In the public sphere, Rufus and his fellow males had the bulk of authority and power.

But when you look at the private sphere, that balance of power swings.

Women, in the medieval Norman context, held a lot of power in the home.

The married Norman woman had the duty of running the household.

This means the day-to-day work of ensuring food, clothing, and sanitation for all inhabitants.

It meant the early care and education of children.

It also meant, especially for noble women, maintaining the family's social standing by providing hospitality, handling charitable matters like alms, overseeing religious matters, and ensuring that the family was suitably pious.

And when that wife was married to a highly ranked nobleman, like a king, well then she had additional areas of influence and additional duties.

For For example, noble families often traded children in order to cement alliances or guarantee peace treaties.

And it was the responsibility of the nobleman's wife to arrange for the care and education of those wards and those foster hostages.

And her duties went further than that.

It was also the wife's duty to arrange and organize important courtly ceremonies.

Basically, it was her task to make sure that social engagements were well planned and that her husband would be able to deftly navigate the social minefield that passed for a courtly party.

And that brings us back to Rufus.

He was a king, and so he had to provide these ceremonies and events as part of his reign.

But he didn't have a wife to arrange them.

And Rufus would have had no training in how to really do it himself.

And just attending these ceremonies and events would not have been enough.

Just like going to a rock concert doesn't mean that now you know how to play guitar.

This was vital and specific information.

And chances are women would have been passing down this information to their daughters and other female wards.

All while Rufus was probably out there in the yard learning to do his important duties of hitting things with sticks.

So who was gonna teach the king how to run an event?

Who was going to teach the king how to ensure that a potential ally was properly received and seated and cared for?

Lanfrank?

Remember, Rufus at his core was a knight.

So once he's in charge of these events, you can only imagine how brotastic the ambiance of court would be.

And actually,

you don't have to imagine it.

We have contemporary accounts from the chroniclers who are all complaining about how coarse and aggressive Rufus's court was.

They tell us that in court, Rufus was often temperamental, highly strung, and easily reduced to levels of rage that so consumed him that he would sometimes devolve into incoherent stuttering.

And even when he wasn't angry, he wasn't particularly eloquent or delicate in how he behaved when he was in court, often instead preferring to obtain what he wanted through bullying tactics.

He would shout, he would hector, his eyes were often threatening, and when he wasn't going wild, we're told he often took on a haughty attitude.

Not exactly a fun court to be part of.

Now, in all fairness, We are also told that while he was quick to anger, he could also quickly calm down.

And while he often dominated rooms, he also appreciated a certain degree of boldness from those around him.

But the fact was,

this wasn't exactly the type of courtly environment that everyone appreciated.

And the monks who wrote the chronicles that we rely on especially hated it.

But I would imagine that even for the nobles, this was a stressful environment, since while the king apparently wanted people to be bold, he didn't want them to be too bold.

And if someone got that balance wrong, we're told that Rufus was quick to seek vengeance, and his vengeance was rarely proportional to the insult.

So yeah, court was a little tense.

It was less ballroom and more barracks.

Not demure, not mindful.

And the people of the 11th century viewed this as, at least in part, a consequence of the king's bachelor status.

Though personally, I doubt that a wife would have really restrained this guy too much.

I mean, we can all think of at least one person who is a coarse, ineloquent bully, despite being married, multiple times.

But at the same time, there is clearly something to be said for the fact that a role was going unfilled in court.

Without a wife to run the comforts and soft diplomacy of the royal court, Rufus simply wasn't hiring up.

And this is doubly the case, as a king's wife wouldn't come alone.

She would have had an entire social retinue of ladies who would attend court and other social functions with her.

And as historian Frank Barlow notes, the men attending court without the presence of those ladies would have, um,

how can I put this delicately?

They wouldn't have found court to be very stimulating.

And beyond the quality of his court, there were also the political consequences of having a bachelor king.

Because think about this.

In the event where a king was unavailable, his wife could act as his surrogate, as we've seen with previous monarchs.

But until Rufus married, that option was foreclosed to him.

And that meant that if Rufus was incapacitated in some way, there was very likely going to be a political power struggle among the highly ranked members of court as to who would govern in his place,

which is not exactly great for stability.

There was also the issue that strict primogeniture wasn't formally institutionalized and accepted at this point.

and Rufus' claim to the throne of England had already been challenged once.

And so having a political marriage between the king and a suitable family could bolster his position and hopefully it would cement an alliance that could prevent a future challenge.

Furthermore, a marriage would also hopefully produce an heir.

And for the nobles and magnates of England who had sided with Rufus in this war against his brother, that was extremely important.

Because if Rufus died without an heir, there was a good chance that Duke Robert would cross the channel and seek to claim the throne of England again.

And if he was successful, well, he probably wouldn't be too pleased with the barons who had stood against him.

Essentially, the matter of the king's relationship status wasn't a personal thing.

It was a social and political thing that impacted the aristocracy of England in very real and very consequential ways.

So Rufus was no doubt under serious pressure to get married.

And yet he didn't.

Why?

Well, there are plenty of other cultural factors within 11th century Europe and especially 11th century Norman culture that could explain his terminal bachelor status.

For one, while some monarchs married for love or even came to love their wives later on, the fact was medieval noble marriages were a business arrangement.

It was an important card to be played when forming alliances.

But it was also a card that could only be played once.

Well, that's not entirely true.

Later on, we're going to meet some little-known Tudor king who played that card a lot.

But in general, you're only supposed to use it once.

So holding on to this powerful powerful option and using it as a carrot to get various noble families to compete to gain your favor could be an effective tactic in a situation where you need a lot of new alliances in a very short period of time.

On a less strategic level, there's also the reality that getting married was seen as a sort of retirement from the life of a knight.

Chivalric knightly life was a young man's game, or at least a bachelor's game.

So once a knight got married, he was expected to pack in the highly militaristic life of a soldier.

And for someone like Rufus, well, that might not have been all that appealing.

On top of that, there was an inherent risk in getting married that also might have been giving Rufus cold feet.

You see, 11th century European culture wasn't very nice.

Chivalric feudalism was marked by a culture of backbiting, avariciousness, and ruthless people who were doing ruthless things in order to advance their own personal petty goals.

And it wasn't just the men who were a part of this culture.

The women were too.

And so Rufus might have wanted to be really careful about who he married.

Because through that marriage, whoever that woman was would suddenly inherit a lot of power.

And we have multiple stories of femme fatals from this period, or even just wives who defied and conspired against their husbands.

We've even talked about some of them in this show.

Matilda of Tuscany is a good example, and she was also someone that Rufus would have been well aware of since his brother Robert tried to marry her.

Even closer to home, there is the fact that Rufus' own mother, Queen Matilda, defied the conqueror and provided support for Robert despite the fact he was in rebellion against her husband.

And those two were far from the only women who, through circumstance and personal attributes, managed to cross that gender divide and extend their power into the public sphere in a way that challenged the dominance of the men in their lives.

And considering that Rufus had spent over three decades under the thumb of a controlling father, I wouldn't be surprised if he was a little gun-shy about about delegating his powers, allowing oversight over his affairs, or risking any sort of challenge to his authority.

The point I'm driving at here is that there are plenty of reasons for why Rufus may have seen it in his interests to remain a bachelor king.

But it's also possible that if you've read about or heard about William Rufus before, you might have encountered another theory for why he remained unmarried.

There are some who have suggested that this is simply because he was homosexual.

And the evidence for this theory comes down to two main points.

The first was that he was unmarried.

That's it.

And the second is that our three main chroniclers, Edmur, William of Malmesbury, and Orderic Vitalis turned into a group of clucking hens when writing about the men of Rufus's court.

But before we get into that, I want to make a couple things very clear.

First, while our three main chroniclers for this period, Edmur, William of Monsbury, and Orderick, do make a lot of insinuations and have a lot to say about the people in William's court, they don't make any direct accusations about Rufus himself.

And that strikes me as important, or at least noteworthy.

And second, we don't have a single record indicating that Rufus had male lovers.

And that doesn't mean that we have no records of his love life.

In fact, multiple chroniclers talk about how Rufus was sexually active, like very sexually active.

However, the churchmen writing these accounts accuse the king's lovers of being harlots.

Which is a slur reserved exclusively for women.

And honestly, without any kind of hard documented evidence, I don't think we can or should make guesses about something as personal as the sexual preference of a historical figure.

There's also the fact that we actually do have records of male nobles and monarchs that mention their male lovers.

We even know some of their names.

And as for the unmarried part, we know that same-sex attraction hasn't stopped monarchs from getting married.

So simply being unmarried is not enough evidence, in my opinion, to conclude anything about preference or attraction.

But the chroniclers didn't let that stop them from lacing rumors and insinuations into their accounts.

So we need to talk about it.

Which brings us to the clucking hens.

And also one of my favorite bits of historiography.

Our earliest account of Rufus' reign comes from a man named Edmer, who was Archbishop Anselm's chaplain.

And his writing is important, and it provides a unique window into this situation, as it was his boss who was a regular fixture in court.

Consequently, thanks to his connection to the Archbishop, Edmer is able to provide us with first-hand and second-hand accounts regarding the reign of Rufus.

Which sounds pretty good, right?

Well, there is a wrinkle.

You see, it turns out that Edmur hated Rufus.

And actually, Edmer wasn't alone.

All the chroniclers hated Rufus.

Now, this doesn't mean that we should assume that Edmer was lying.

But it does mean that he had a perspective, and we should keep that in mind.

I read one historian describe him as a hostile witness, and the former lawyer in me loves that, because that's pretty much exactly what he was.

But hostile or no, he is important.

And if you're wondering why we're reading Edmer and not his boss, Archbishop Anselm, well, there is a reason for that, and we're going to get to it later on, because it's actually one of the many reasons why Edmer is so hostile to Rufus, and why his chronicle is focused like a laser on the conflicts between him and the church.

But the point that I want to make right now is that there was no love lost between Edmer and Rufus.

And it's from Edmer that we first learned that Rufus was surrounded by rumors.

Apparently, during Anselm's very first meeting with Rufus, back when Anselm was still just an abbot, he asked to confer in private with the king regarding some of the rumors that he'd heard.

And they were rumors that he felt that Rufus was responsible for.

As for what those rumors were, well, Edmer doesn't tell us.

Cheeky.

Then, about a year and a half after this meeting, we have another entry from Edmer.

And by this point, Anselm was the Archbishop.

And,

well,

he wasn't pleased with what he saw in court.

We're told that the Archbishop railed against the way the men at court let their hair grow out, and how they kept it neatly combed, and how their body language was sinful.

And he really didn't like the sexy way that they looked at people.

He was even mad about the way they walked.

And the sexagenarian archbishop was so upset about all of this that on Ash Wednesday, he focused his speech on the issue and demanded that these noblemen cut their damn hair, otherwise they're not going to be allowed to take part in the ceremony and won't even receive absolution.

Now, apparently, this didn't have the boys running for their shears, because shortly thereafter, we have a record of him complaining to the king about the men of his court yet again.

And this time, he spiced it up, and he stated that the king's court had a sodomy problem, and he demanded that Rufus do something about it before England turned into Sodom and Gomorrah.

And when he leveled that accusation, well, then it was Rufus' turn to be outraged.

And we're going to get more into it later, but like I said, these two did not get along.

But this account by Edmer, relating Anselm's problems with Rufus' court, is where Rufus' other reputation seems to begin.

And you'll note that the complaints are about the men of court.

not Rufus.

You'll also note that the complaints aren't about pairings or paramours.

When you look at what the Archbishop is saying, he's upset about fashion choices and maybe a bit of social boldness.

And it's from there that he leaps to the assumption that there must be a whole lot of sodomy going on.

And while Anselm was certain that this fashion was incredibly gay, we should keep in mind that Anselm was a celibate monk in his 60s.

So I'm not sure sure if he was equipped to determine what young women were finding attractive these days.

But there you have it.

That's what Edmur has to say.

And there it sat for a while, until William of Malmesbury came along, who never knew Rufus and was actually still a child when the king died.

But he was very familiar with Edmur's writings.

And like Edmur, he hated Rufus and his court.

And we're going to get into why as we follow the reign of Rufus, but for right now, what you need to know is that like Edmur, Malmsbury loathed Rufus.

So much so that you can actually see the effort he goes into to cast just about any action that Rufus took in the most negative light possible.

Good, bad, neutral, it doesn't matter.

Malmsbury writes the way your brain thinks when you run into an ex at a party and you roll your eyes as they eat a cracker like an asshole.

The point is, Malmsbury has a slant, but he's still very useful and his description of Rufus' court is, in my opinion, vital for understanding what's going on here with the rumors about Rufus' bachelor status and the cause behind it.

So let's break it down bit by bit.

He begins saying, quote, then was there flowing hair and extravagant dress, and then was invented the fashion of shoes with curved points, end quote.

So, like Edmer, we've got complaints about fashion.

Long hair, extravagant clothing, and pointy shoes.

And there was indeed a change in fashion that was taking place within Europe at this point.

It had actually begun during the life of the conqueror.

And Poitier also complained about how the English were wearing their hair long.

And like the the monks who were writing these chronicles, Poitier condemned it as just finging girly.

Now, Malmsbury doesn't describe how their clothing was extravagant, but keep in mind that this is the period where the tournament is really starting to take off.

And those events were basically the medieval equivalent of a stadium show.

And the knights were the rock stars.

These were places where a young knight could make a name for himself and gain attention, provided he knew how to do it.

And Rufus, as a knight's knight, had his court packed with knights.

I mean, hell, he was one of them, and we're told that he, like his companions, was a bit of a fashionista.

And I would bet quite a bit of money that what the monks saw as deeply immoral clothing and hairstyles was actually the latest fashion coming out of the tourney.

But speaking of immoral clothing, the priests might have actually had a point about one piece of this fit, because it's theorized that those curved, pointy shoes were a deliberately sexual fashion choice.

Essentially, the men wearing them were implying that, you know, another part of them was long and curved.

Anyway, Malmsbury goes on: quote, Then the model for young men was to rival women in delicacy of person, to mince their gait, to walk with loose gesture, and half naked.

Enervated and effeminate, they unwillingly remained what nature had made them, the assailors of others' chastity, prodigal of their own, end quote.

And this part, I feel, is where he gives the game away.

The assailors of others chastity, prodigal of their own.

Basically, they're so damn sexy that as soon as they enter the room, normally chaste people find themselves hot to go.

And as for the dudes in question who are strolling in, well, they're already there.

Monsbury then goes on to accuse Rufus' court of being a magnet for harlots and pathics.

And I will note that that accusation sounds a lot like the accusation the monks were throwing around about Robert during his time touring.

Because you'll remember that he too was accused of having harlots and young effeminate men in his retinue.

So,

that's the account from Malmesbury.

And then about a decade later, our boy Orderic starts writing.

And he expands on the material provided by Malmesbury.

He accuses Rufus of being a lustful king who engaged in shameless, lascivious acts in the dark, and says that young men in the kingdom were following his example.

He complained about men wearing pointy, curved shoes, and tightly fitting tunics, and long robes with puffy sleeves.

He said that the men wore their hair long like prostitutes, and they parted their hair down the center like thieves.

He ranted about how they kept their hair and beards neatly groomed, and how they wore hats.

Yeah,

hats.

Headbands too.

And why would they do something so outrageous and unseemly?

Well, Orderic says that it was because of the effeminate men and the lore of sodomy.

Now, this accusation actually runs counter to some of the other accusations.

For example, One other complaint he makes is that loose men grew out their beards because they didn't want to prick the faces of their mistresses when they kissed them.

Basically, he says that these guys were such thoughtful Lotharios that they didn't want their five o'clock shadow to sandpaper their lover's face.

And keep in mind, this is the same Orderic who accused basically all of Normandy of being gay because of Robert.

For Orderic, this thing I don't like is making everyone gay was kind of his go-to move.

So, you know, might want to consider the source.

So, that's Orderic, and consequently, that's all three of our chroniclers.

Now, in all fairness, Momsbury does say that Rufus's successor did expel effeminate men from court.

But, considering that long hair counted as effeminacy, I think it's quite a leap to assume that whatever the next king thought was effeminate was also an indication of sexual preference.

I of course also have to say here that some of these men in Rufus' court may well have been homosexual.

I mean statistically I think it's almost guaranteed.

But I'm just hesitant to assume that fashion is our biggest clue, especially when that assumption comes from an old monk who never even met them.

So, at the end of the day, I can't say precisely what the members of court were getting up to or who they did it with.

But what I can say is that none of this provides a clear indication that Rufus was a bachelor because he was exclusively attracted to men.

Honestly, I think the story of Rufus's court is the same one we've all seen play out at least once a generation.

The story of a certain type of old man who responds to changes in culture by accusing young men of being gay and young women of being sluts.

I experienced it as a Gen X goth in the 90s, and Robert and Rufus seem to be experiencing it as knights in the 11th century.

Anyway, that's where this rumor comes from.

Kind of thin, if you ask me.

No one's directly saying that Rufus was homosexual, and quite the opposite.

When they talk about his sex life, they talk about how he was quite prolific with women.

Instead, all of this is pinned on insinuations drawn from fashion choices, and they were choices that appear to have been widespread and were probably the result of the growing tournament culture that was spreading across Europe like wildfire.

Festival life and the rock star night had been born, and it was here to stay.

And monks on both sides of the channel absolutely hated it.

They were spilling ridiculous amounts of ink describing how they could not stand the way these guys wore their long hair or their tight tunics or their little caps.

And man, the way they walked and how they looked at people, it was all...

how did Momsbury put it?

It was all an assault upon chastity.

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Thanks for listening.