“Quid insignius ad te eligendum ostenderet Deus, quam, ut tu promovereris, regem triumphis nobilem, severitate cunctis formidabilem, lecto decubuisse, ad mortem usque ægrotavisse, te autem provecto, statim eundem respiravisse, convaluisse, atque ex fero et immani mitissimum pariter et mansuetissimum redditum fuisse? Quid, inquam, aut effectum dulcius, aut ad innocentiam præstantius, quam te ante lectum ægrotantis violenter pertractum, dextram aliorum dextris impudenter de sinu abstractam, sinistram, ne sororem juvaret, fortiter retentam, virgam, ceteris digitulis pertinaciter occlusis, pollici atque indici crudeliter impactam, post hæc toto corpore e terra te elevatum, episcopalibus brachiis ad ecclesiam deportatum, ibique adhuc te reclamante, et importunis nimis obsistente, Te Deum laudamus esse cantatum? Quid, inquam, vel ad divinas laudes magnificentius vel ad humana spectacula gaudentius, quam quod in tua electione, exclusis omnibus transactæ tempestatis afflictionibus, omnia ad proprii juris possessionem veluti jubileo termino cucurrerunt, dum vincti ad expeditionem, carcerati ad lucem, captivi ad libertatem, oppressi dirissimis exactorum furoribus redierint ad erectionem.”
Osbern clearly had an eye for the comic element in the amazing scene at Gloucester. He then goes on, among other things, to enlarge on the dignity of the church of Canterbury. By a bold figure, he conceives Anselm at the last day called before the judgement-seat, because he had slain thousands of men, while seeking for the safety of a few (“cur non cogitabas infinita hominum millia te occidisse, dum paucorum volebas saluti consulere”). The church of Canterbury, the bride of Christ, consecrated from the beginning by the blessing of his Apostle Peter—the same story which we have heard at Westminster (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 511), and which is told in a slightly different, and still more daring, shape at Glastonbury—enriched by the privileges of so many popes, and to which, saving the authority of the Roman church alone, all the other churches round about were used to look for the defence of their freedom (“ad quam, salva Romanæ et apostolicæ sedis auctoritate, omnium circa regionum ecclesiæ in suis oppressionibus confugere atque ab ea tuendæ libertatis præsidia expetere simul ac suscipere solebant”), now called on Anselm to come to the succour of her liberties, and he refused. Osbern draws out this bold metaphor at great length, and at last disposes of Anselm’s scruples about his allegiance to the Norman Duke and to the church of Bec (“præmonstravi oraculis, comprobavi miraculis; verum tu mihi prætulisti Normanniæ comitem, Deo vermem, viventi mortalem, latitudini Anglorum angustæ solitudinis nidum”). He draws largely on Canterbury legends about Laurence and Dunstan, in order to set forth that church as specially under the divine favour. He, Anselm, had been called in a special way to be their successor (“cum neque sis privata gratia exhibitus, neque mercenarius, neque Simonis discipulus, sed quem et divina vocavit electio et apostolica informavit institutio”), and that call he was bound to obey.
The word “mercenarius” in the extract just made is perhaps meant to contrast the palpable purity of Anselm’s nomination with the appointment of those bishops who, whether they actually bought their sees or not, at least received them us the reward of temporal services. There is another letter (iii. 5) from Osbern to Anselm, which is simply an earnest prayer that he will no longer put off his full admission to the archbishopric.
There are also several letters of Anselm (iii. 1, 4, 7), and one of Gundulf (iii. 3), to the monks of Bec, to which some references have already been made (see pp. 405, 406). There is also one (iii. 6) from the monks of Bec to Anselm, announcing their consent to his acceptance of the archbishopric. It describes the division in the convent, how each monk gave his vote at the call of the president, whom, from this form of words, we may suppose not to have been the prior (“omnes in unum congregati sumus, unusquisque nostrum de sua sententia ab eo qui præsidebat nominatim est requisitus”). The party which opposed Anselm’s removal is described as “suo potius quam vestro utens atque fidens consilio, ardentiori, atque, ut sibi videtur, rectiori, amoris vestri zelo.” The monk Lanfranc, nephew of the Archbishop, a person who is often mentioned in the letters, is to give Anselm a fuller account (“quæ pars alteram aut numero aut ratione præponderet, domnus Lanfrancus, qui interfuit, et omnia hic apud nos gesta sive dicta et vidit et audivit, plenissime per seipsum et sufficienter vobis dicit”). We have here a trace of that odd appeal from the “major pars” to the “sanior,” which seems so utterly to upset every notion of real election, but which is so often heard of in the ecclesiastical debates of the time. The letter of the monks however, though not very positively expressed, seems to have been taken as a release. Other letters follow, in which Anselm recommends (iii. 8) William of Montfort (see Vitæ Abbatum Beccensium, i. 313, Giles) as his successor in the abbacy, and commands the Prior Baldric to keep his place, whoever may be chosen abbot. In another letter (iii. 15) he announces to the monks his coming consecration, and tells them that the King has promised to protect all their rights in England as long as they live according to Anselm’s counsel (“Rex Anglorum vobis mandat salutem et auxilium suum et custodiam rerum vestrarum quæ sunt in sua potestate, quamdiu meo consilio agetis et vivetis. Si autem illud spreveritis, in illo proficuum non habebetis”). He writes also a letter (iii. 10) to Bishop Gilbert of Evreux, of whom we have often heard, but who in Migne’s text is strangely changed into “Eboracensis episcopus,” explaining his motives for accepting the archbishopric. He writes to the same effect (iii. 11) to Fulk Bishop of Beauvais.
Once settled in the archbishopric, Anselm has to write about other matters. The affairs of his province bring much correspondence. Thus he writes (iii. 20) to Bishop Osbern of Exeter and his canons on behalf of the monks of Battle (“monasterium quod vulgo dicitur de Batailla”), who held the church of Saint Olaf at Exeter (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 350, vol. iv. pp. 166, 406; Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 64). He urges that they may be allowed to ring their bells. In a letter (iii. 23) to Ralph Abbot of Seez, afterwards Anselm’s own successor, we get a mention of Bishop Herewald of Llandaff (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 447, 692), who, it seems, like his brother bishop Wilfrith of Saint David’s (see p. 534), had been suspended from the episcopal office;
“De fratre illo quem dicitis esse ordinatum a quodam episcopo, quia a nobis est interdictus, hoc respondeo, quia si ordinatus est ab episcopo de Walis, qui vocatur Herewardus, nec illis ordinibus, quos ab illo accepit, nostra concessione aliquando utetur, nec ab ullo episcopo reordinari debet.”
The same letter contains Anselm’s views, not on any matter touching Norman or English history, but on a point of obvious morality which had been dealt with long ago by the singer of the Odyssey (i. 260–263);
“De altero vero fratre, qui herbas quæsivit mulieri, quibus virum suum interficeret, quamvis prope vos habeatis de hac re in Northmannia sufficiens consilium, tamen quia a me hoc petitis, nostrum negare non debeo sensum. Si monachus noster esset, et vir ille cujus morti quæsivit herbas ipsis interfectus esset, nunquam ad diaconatum per me, vel ad sacerdotium ascenderet.”
Next follows the great letter to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons, to which I have often referred; and not long after come the important letters (iii. 35, 36), of which also I have often spoken. In iii. 29 Anselm writes to Prior Henry and the rest of the monks of Christ Church—among them Anthony, Ernulf, and Osbern, all names known to us—charging them to leave off disputes, and to enforce holy obedience. Next (iii. 30) comes a letter to Matilda Abbess of Wilton (Wintoniensis in Migne), urging obedience to the diocesan Bishop Osmund of Salisbury. The house of Saint Werburh at Chester, in whose foundation Anselm had had a hand, comes in several times for his notice (iii. 34, 49). A crowd of letters bearing on points in the history later than our time may be passed by, but there are two very singular ones which throw a curious light on English nomenclature. In iii. 133 we have a letter thus addressed;
“Anselmus archiepiscopus amico et filio carissimo Roberto, et sororibus et filiabus suis dilectissimis Seit, Edit et Hydit, Luverim, Virgit, Godit, salutem et benedictionem Dei et suam, si quid valet.”