To this, the aforesaid pleader Alberic added that it had been signified to the king that the bishops muttered among themselves, and had even made preparation for some of their party to proceed to Rome against him. “And this,” said he, “the king advises that none of you presume to do; for if any person shall go from England to any place, in opposition to him and to the dignity of his kingdom, perhaps his return may not be so easy. Moreover, he, as he sees himself aggrieved, of his own accord summons you to Rome.” When the king had sent such a message, partly advising and partly threatening, it was perceived what was his design. In consequence the council broke up, as he would not submit to canonical censure; and the bishops deemed it unadvisable to enforce it against him for two reasons: first, because it was a rash act to excommunicate the king without the knowledge of the pope; secondly, because they understood, or some of them even saw, that swords were unsheathed around them. The contention was no longer of mere words, but nearly for life and for blood. The legate and the archbishop still, however, were anxiously observant of their duty. They humbly prostrated themselves before the king in his chamber, entreating him to take pity on the church, and to consider his soul and his reputation, and that he would not suffer a schism to be made between the empire and the priesthood. Although he in some measure removed the odium of his former conduct, by condescendingly rising to them, yet, prevented by ill advice, he carried none of his fair promises into effect.
[A.D. 1139.] ARRIVAL OF EARL ROBERT.
The council broke up on the kalends of September; and on the day previous to the kalends of October, earl Robert, having at length surmounted every cause of delay, arrived with the empress his sister in England, relying on the protection of God and the observance of his lawful oath; but with a much smaller military force than any other person would have required for so perilous an enterprise; for he had not with him, at that time, more than one hundred and forty horsemen. My assertion is supported by persons of veracity; and did it not look like flattery, I would say that he was not inferior to Julius Cæsar, at least in resolution, whom Livy[559] relates to have had but five cohorts when he began the civil war, with which he attacked the world; though the comparison between Julius and Robert is invidious. For Julius, an alien to the true faith, reposed his hope on his good fortune, as he used to say, and the valour of his legions; Robert, celebrated for Christian piety, relied only on the assistance of the Holy Spirit and the lady St. Mary. The former had partizans in Gaul, in part of Germany, and Brittany, and had attached to him by means of presents all the Roman people with the exception of the senate; the latter, bating a very few who regarded their plighted oath, found the nobility in England either opposing or affording him no assistance. He landed, then, at Arundel, and for a time delivered his sister into the safe keeping, as he supposed, of her mother-in-law, whom Henry, as I have before related, had taken to his bed on the death of the empress’s mother. Himself proceeded through the hostile country to Bristol, accompanied, as I have heard, by scarcely twelve horsemen, and was joined in the midst of his journey by Brian Fitz-Count of Wallingford. Nor was it long ere he learned that his sister had quitted Arundel; for her mother-in-law, through female inconstancy, had broken the faith she had repeatedly pledged by messages sent into Normandy. The earl, therefore, committed the empress to Henry bishop of Winchester and Waleran earl of Mellent for safe conduct, a favour never denied to the most inveterate enemy by honourable soldiers. Waleran, indeed, declined going farther than Calne, but the bishop continued his route. The earl, therefore, quickly collecting his troops, came to the boundary appointed by the king, and placed his sister in safe quarters at Bristol. She was afterwards received into Gloucester by Milo, who held the castle of that city under the earl in the time of king Henry, doing him homage and swearing fidelity to him; for this is the chief city of his county.
On the nones of October one Robert Fitz-Hubert, a savage barbarian, by night clandestinely entering the castle of Malmesbury, which bishop Rochester had inauspiciously founded, and burning the town, boasted of the deed, as though he had gained a great triumph. But, within a fortnight, his joy was at an end, being put to flight by the king. Stephen, in the meantime, commanded possession to be kept of the castle, until, on the restoration of peace, it might be destroyed. The king, moreover, before he came to Malmesbury, had occupied, and placed a garrison in a small fortress called Cerney, belonging to the aforesaid Milo. In consequence, thinking he should be equally successful elsewhere, as at that place and at Malmesbury, he assailed a castle called Trowbridge, belonging to Humphrey de Bohun, who was of the empress’s party, but he departed without success.
The whole country then around Gloucester to the extremity of Wales, partly by force, and partly by favour, in the course of the remaining months of that year, gradually espoused the party of their sovereign the empress. The owners of certain castles, securing themselves within their fastnesses, waited the issue of events. The city of Hereford was taken without difficulty; and a few soldiers, who determined on resistance, had thrown themselves into the castle, were blocked up. The king drew nigh, if possible, to devise means for their assistance; but frustrated in his wishes, he retired with disgrace. He also approached Bristol, and going beyond it, burnt the neighbourhood around Dunstore, leaving nothing, as far as he was able, which could minister food to his enemies, or advantage to any one.
[A.D. 1139.] BISHOP OF SALISBURY’S DEATH.
On the third before the ides of December, Roger bishop of Salisbury, by the kindness of death, escaped the quartan ague which had long afflicted him. They assert that his sickness was brought upon him through grief at the severe and repeated injuries he had received from king Stephen. To me it appears, that God exhibited him to the wealthy as an example of the mutability of fortune, in order that they should not trust in uncertain riches, which, as the apostle says, “while some have coveted, concerning faith have made shipwreck.” He first ingratiated himself with prince Henry, who became afterwards king, by his prudence in the management of domestic matters, and by restraining the excesses of his household. For, before his accession, Henry had been careful and economical in his expenses, compelled thereto by the scantiness of his resources, and the illiberal treatment of his brothers, William and Robert. Knowing his disposition this way, Roger had deserved so well of him in his time of need, that, when he came to the throne, he denied him scarcely any thing he thought proper to ask; gave him estates, churches, prebends, entire abbeys of monks, and, lastly, committed even the kingdom to his fidelity: made him chancellor, in the beginning of his reign, and not long after, bishop of Salisbury. Roger, therefore decided causes; he regulated the expenditure; he had charge of the treasury. Such were his occupations when the king was in England: such, without associate or inspector, when he resided in Normandy; which took place repeatedly, and for a long time together. And not only the king, but the nobility, even those who were secretly stung with envy at his good fortune, and more especially the ministers and debtors of the king, gave him almost whatever he could fancy. Was there any thing contiguous to his property which might be advantageous to him, he would directly extort it, either by entreaty or purchase; or, if that failed, by force. With unrivalled magnificence in their construction, as our times may recollect, he erected splendid mansions on all his estates; in merely maintaining which, the labour of his successors shall toil in vain. His cathedral he dignified to the utmost with matchless ornaments and buildings on which no expense was spared. It was truly wonderful to behold in this man, what abundant power attended him in every kind of dignity, and flowed as it were to his hand. How great was the glory, indeed, what could exceed it, that he should have made his two nephews, by virtue of his education, men of noted learning and industry, bishops; and, not of mean sees; but of Lincoln and Ely, than which, I know not whether there be more opulent in England? He was sensible of his power, and, somewhat more harshly than became such a character, abused the favours of heaven. Lastly, as a certain poet observes of a rich man,[560]
“He builds, destroys, and changes square for round,”
so Roger attempted to turn abbeys into bishoprics, and bishoprics into abbeys. The most ancient monasteries of Malmesbury and Abbotsbury, he annexed, as far as he was able, to his see. He changed the priory of Sherborne, which is subject to the bishop of Salisbury, into an abbey; and the abbey of Hortun was forthwith dissolved and united to it. These events took place in the time of king Henry, under whom, as I have observed, his prosperity reached its zenith: for under Stephen, as I have before related, it began to decline; except that in the beginning of his reign, he obtained for one of his nephews, the chancellorship; for the other the office of treasurer; and for himself the town of Malmesbury; the king repeating often to his companions, “By the birth of God, I would give him half England, if he asked for it: till the time be ripe, he shall tire of asking, ere I tire of giving.” But fortune, who, in former times, had flattered him so long and so transcendently, at last cruelly pierced him with scorpion-sting. Such was that instance, when he saw those whom he dearly regarded, wounded; and his most favoured knight killed before his face; the next day, himself, and, as I said before, his nephews, very powerful bishops, the one compelled to fly, the other detained, and the third, a young man to whom he was greatly attached, bound with chains: on the surrender of his castles, his treasures pillaged, and himself afterwards, in the council, loaded with the most disgraceful reproaches. Finally, as he was nearly breathing his latest sigh, at Salisbury, the residue of his money and utensils, which he had placed upon the altar for the purpose of completing the church, was carried off against his will. The height of his calamity, was, I think, a circumstance which even I cannot help commiserating; that, though he appeared wretched to many, yet there were very few who pitied him: so much envy and hatred had his excessive power drawn on him, and undeservedly, too, from some of those very persons whom he had advanced to honour.
In the year of the Incarnate Word 1140, the monks of those abbeys which Roger had unjustifiably usurped, waiting on the king, were permitted to enjoy their ancient privileges, and abbats, as formerly. John, a monk of that place, a man highly celebrated for the affability of his manners and the liberality of his mind, was elected abbat of Malmesbury by the monks, according to the tenor of the privilege which St. Aldhelm had obtained from pope Sergius four hundred and sixty-six years before, and had caused to be confirmed by the kings, Ina of the West Saxons, and Ethelred of the Mercians. The legate approved the claim, but disapproved of the person: for he could not be induced to believe that the king had consented to the election but by a gift in money. And, indeed, a small sum had been promised, on the score of liberating the church, not for the election of the person. Wherefore John, though taken off by a premature death within the year, still left a lasting and laudable memory of himself to all succeeding ages. For no monk of that place, I confess the truth, would have pursued a task of such difficulty, had not John begun it. Wherefore let his successors be praised, if they shall preserve the liberty of that church; he certainly rescued it from thraldom.