ROYAL SUPREMACY.

In order to ensure the success of his invasion, William had given the Pope a strong claim on his obedience, at a time when the papal power was advancing rapidly under the guidance of Hildebrand, who in 1073 became Pope with the title of Gregory VII. Nevertheless William succeeded in using the papal pretensions to strengthen his hold on England, and in disregarding them when they threatened to weaken his absolute sovereignty in Church and State. In 1070, when he had completed the conquest of the land, he set about securing the submission of the Church, and invited Alexander II. to send legates to his court. Accordingly certain legates visited this country, and deposed Stigand and other bishops and abbots. Thus the Pope was gratified by the deposition of the uncanonical archbishop, while the Conqueror, by ousting the native prelates, crushed the strongest element of national resistance. York, which was vacant by the death of Ealdred, was given to Thomas of Bayeux, one of the king’s clerks; other Normans were appointed to different sees; Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, 1070-1089.and shortly afterwards Lanfranc was appointed to Canterbury. Lanfranc, a native of Pavia, a man of great learning and ability, and especially skilled in civil law, first came to Normandy as a teacher. He suddenly gave up this work, entered the newly founded monastery of Bec, and devoted himself to the monastic life. He became prior, and his talents attracted the notice of the duke, who made him his counsellor, and gave him the abbacy of his new monastery, St. Stephen’s, at Caen. At Rome, Lanfranc was honoured as the defender of transubstantiation, and his appointment to Canterbury was warmly approved by the Pope. He was a man on whom the Conqueror could safely rely for the furtherance of his ecclesiastical policy. Hitherto there had virtually been only one system of administration for both Church and State. William’s work was to create a separate ecclesiastical system, carried on by clerical officers. Yet the Church no less than the State was to be under his own absolute control; and so, while he needed a strong archbishop, he needed one who would exert his strength to maintain and increase the royal power. In Lanfranc he found an archbishop after his own heart, in exalting whose position he strengthened his own.

No writ was issued for the consecration of Thomas of York until Lanfranc had received consecration, and this delay was perhaps intentional; for when Thomas brought the writ to Lanfranc he was bidden to profess obedience to the see of Canterbury. He refused to do so, on the ground that Gregory had instituted two co-ordinate archbishoprics. On the other hand, the bishops of York, from Paulinus to Ecgberht, had not enjoyed metropolitan dignity, and even since Ecgberht’s time the see had occupied an inferior position to Canterbury. Lanfranc had papal decrees and other evidences on his side, and gained the king’s support by representing that an independent metropolitan at York might crown an independent king of Northumbria. William compelled Thomas to profess obedience to Lanfranc personally, and, with respect to the future, ordered that the question should be decided by the Pope. When the two archbishops went to Rome for their palls, Alexander was about to degrade Thomas and Remigius, bishop of Dorchester, who went with them, on account of canonical irregularity, and only forbore to do so at Lanfranc’s request. Thomas brought forward the matter of the profession, and further claimed Dorchester, Lichfield, and Worcester as subject to York. Alexander referred these matters to the decision of an English synod, and the case seems to have been heard before a mixed assembly of clergy and laity, which pronounced against Thomas; he was forced to make a general profession of obedience, the Humber was declared the boundary between the provinces, and he was left with only one suffragan, the bishop of Durham. This disproportion between the archbishoprics had not been contemplated by Gregory, for his division, which was based on the assumption that the whole island was under one rule, included Scotland in the province of York. Under William and Lanfranc the English Church made its power felt in yet unconquered Celtic lands. The claim of York was asserted over Scotland. As that country had no metropolitan and no organized episcopal system, the assertion was plausible, and a bishop of the Orkneys was certainly consecrated by Thomas. It is extremely doubtful whether the authority of Canterbury was in any instance acknowledged in Wales during this reign, though a few years later it was, as we shall see, successfully asserted. In Ireland the irregular condition of the episcopacy naturally led kings and bishops to look up to Lanfranc; he consecrated two archbishops of Dublin, who made profession to him, and he wrote with authority to two kings on matters of discipline. An approach was thus made to the ecclesiastical submission of Ireland, and the primate of Britain was not unreasonably held by Latin Christendom to be “Patriarch of the nations beyond the sea.”

Under William and Lanfranc synods were again held frequently, and, in accordance with the king’s policy, ecclesiastical legislation, which had in the preceding age been provided for in the national assembly, was confined to them. They were councils of the whole Church; for the archbishop of Canterbury was acknowledged as primate of all Britain: they consisted of one house, and such of the inferior clergy as attended them were little more than spectators, for no one might speak without special permission save bishops and abbots. Their action was controlled by the king, and we find them held at the same place as, and immediately after the close of, one or other of the yearly meetings of the great council. Episcopal elections seem to have been made in these synods instead of in the national assembly, though in these, as in all else, the king was supreme. While the Church thus regained separate synodical activity, the bishops did not lose their places in the national assembly. Their right, however, no longer rested simply on the wisdom supposed to be inherent in their office; they now held their temporalities as baronies, and sat in the council as barons; for the old witenagemÓt had been transformed into a feudal council. A separation was also effected in the judicial system. The Conqueror declared the union of civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction to be mischievous, and provided that henceforth no bishop or archdeacon should sit in the hundred court; that all spiritual causes should be tried by the bishop in his own court and be determined according to the canons, and that if any one disobeyed the bishop’s summons and remained contumacious after excommunication, he should be brought to obedience by the king or the sheriff. This establishment of ecclesiastical courts, with their own system of law, was doubtless pleasing to the Pope, for the old English practice was contrary to the spirit of Hildebrand’s work. Its ultimate tendency was to lead men to look to Rome as the supreme court of appeal in spiritual causes, and to set churchmen in opposition to the Crown. For some time after the Conqueror’s death the separation of the courts was not fully effected, and this tendency was scarcely apparent. Nevertheless, his policy raised up a power in England that in later days greatly hampered the exercise of the royal authority and brought some troubles on the country.

Among the more important synodical decrees of this reign is that of the council held at London in 1075, which ordered that bishops’ sees should be removed from villages to cities. The change begun by Leofric was carried fully out now that nearly every bishop was a foreigner. The see of Sherborne was moved by Hermann to Salisbury (Old Sarum), to be moved again when the present church of the new Salisbury was built in the reign of Henry III.; the see of Selsey was moved to Chichester; that of Lichfield to Chester, and a few years later to Coventry, where the bishop seized on the abbey by force; the see of Elmham was moved first to Thetford, and then to Norwich; and in the reign of Rufus, the bishop of Wells left his little city for Bath. While the decrees of ancient Popes and councils were cited as authorities for this measure, the act of the council, like all the conciliar acts of the reign, derived its force from the king’s approval.

Gregory had reason to congratulate himself on the part he had taken in forwarding the Conquest. The uncanonical archbishop was deposed, and his place taken by one who was especially pleasing to the Holy See; insular peculiarities were removed, the new foreign bishops were far more amenable to papal influence than the native bishops had been, and the changes effected in the government of the Church were generally such as he approved. In these and some other matters his desires were in accord with the policy of the Conqueror. Where it was otherwise he found that the king and his archbishop would act according to their own judgment. While Lanfranc cordially sympathized in Gregory’s attempt to root out the custom of clerical marriage, his action was governed by the circumstances of the Church over which he presided. In England the custom obtained too widely to be attacked without discrimination. Accordingly the Council of Winchester, in 1076, only partially followed the example of the council which Gregory had held in Rome two years before. It decreed that no canon should have a wife, that the marriage of priests was for the future forbidden, and that no bishop should ordain a married man deacon or priest. On the other hand, priests who were already married were not called upon to leave their wives. Other decrees of this council insisted on the sanctity of marriage, and the necessity of obtaining the Church’s blessing in matrimony.

The absolute supremacy of the Conqueror in ecclesiastical matters is expressed in three rules which he is said to have laid down, and which define his rights in relation to the papacy. He would have no Pope acknowledged as apostolic without his bidding, and no papal letters brought into his kingdom unless he approved them. Synodical decrees were to have no force unless he had first ordained them; and none of his barons or officers of state were to be excommunicated or subjected to ecclesiastical rigour without his precept. Nor did he hesitate to return a flat refusal to a papal demand; for when Gregory sent a legate to admonish him to be more punctual in forwarding Peter’s pence, and to demand a profession of fealty to the Holy See, he wrote that he admitted the one claim and not the other. Fealty he would not do, for he had not promised it, nor did he find that earlier kings had done it. He took his stand on his position as king of England; that which his predecessors had done he would do, but he would not grant the Pope any authority over his kingdom that they had not granted. Even Gregory was forced to suffer this; he seems to have blamed Lanfranc for the king’s independent answer, bade him come to Rome, and urged him to bring William to obedience. Lanfranc defended himself in becoming terms, but stayed where he was, and at last the Pope threatened to suspend him if he did not obey his summons. Gregory, however, had powerful enemies nearer home, and did not care to quarrel with a king who steadily refused to take part against him. His struggle with Henry IV. gave occasion for the exercise, perhaps for the enunciation, of the first of the Conqueror’s rules, and Lanfranc writes that “our island” had not yet decided between Gregory and the antipope Clement. Lanfranc’s own sympathies, of course, were with Gregory, but he would not condemn the action of the Emperor; he thought that the proper attitude for England was one of neutrality.

With the exception of Worcester, no English see was left in the hands of a native bishop. They were held either by Normans or by the Lotharingians who had been appointed in the Confessor’s reign. At Worcester, Wulfstan, though not a man of learning, was allowed to retain his bishopric on account of his holiness. Among his other good works, he preached in Bristol against the slave-trade with Ireland that was largely carried on there, and persuaded the townsmen to give it up. Most of William’s bishops were men of high character, for his appointments were free from simony, and were, no doubt, suggested by Lanfranc; and the king himself had no liking for evil men. Some of them were learned; nearly all were magnificent. They did not play a great part in State affairs, and stand in some contrast both to the old native bishops, who were leaders of the witan, and, though several of them had been the king’s clerks, to the bishops of a later period, who were before all things royal ministers. They generally rebuilt their churches in the Norman style, of which the Confessor’s church at Westminster was the earliest example in England. At York, Archbishop Thomas did away with the discipline introduced by Ealdred, and assigned separate prebends to each of the canons, an arrangement which was gradually adopted in all cathedral churches with secular chapters. That the chapter of a cathedral church should consist of monks was extremely rare except in England, but as the Normans generally were strong supporters of monasticism, this was a peculiarity of which they approved, and in some churches secular canons were displaced by monks. Some of the bishops, however, who were not monks, with Walchelin, bishop of Winchester, at their head, saw that monastic chapters were a hindrance to the bishop, and were unfitted for their duties. They conceived the idea of replacing the monks by secular canons even in the metropolitan church. William is said to have approved of the scheme; but it was highly distasteful to Lanfranc, “the father of the monks,” and he obtained a letter from Alexander II. indignantly forbidding it. The scheme was defeated, and Walchelin, who had forty clerks with their tonsure cut and their dress prepared as canons, ready to take the place of the monks of St. Swithun’s, and to divide the monastic estates into prebends, had to send them about their business. Although William’s Norman bishops were generally good specimens of continental churchmen, they had no sympathy with the thoughts and feelings of their clergy and people. Of one only, Osbern of Exeter, it is said that he adopted the English mode of life. Lanfranc despised the national saints, and doubted the right of his predecessor, Ælfheah, to the title of martyr, until he was taught better by Anselm, abbot of Bec. The admiration of the Normans for monasticism caused a considerable increase in the practice of endowing monasteries with tithes and parish churches, and thus in many cases tithes were paid to abbeys both here and abroad.

In every respect our Church lost much of its insular, and something also of its national, character by the Conquest. Its prelates were foreigners; it was drawn more closely to Rome, and legates came over, and judged and deposed her native bishops, not always justly; its councils and courts were separated from the councils and courts of the nation. There seems to have been a change made even in doctrine; for the dogma of transubstantiation, of which Lanfranc was the special champion, was now universally accepted, and the archbishop’s eagerness in this matter is reflected in the many stories of miracles connected with the Holy Elements which appear in contemporary literature. Yet the Church remained the representative of English nationality; her influence at once began to turn Normans into Englishmen; and it is interesting to find Lanfranc using the terms “our island” and “we English,” and describing himself to Alexander II. as a “new Englishman.” As primate of the English Church, he was the spiritual head of the nation, of English villeins as well as of Norman barons. All were Englishmen to him, and all soon became in truth one people. And while the establishment of a separate system of ecclesiastical administration tended to destroy the national character of the Church, this tendency was neutralized by the exercise of the king’s supremacy. The new system worked well; but its success was due to the fact that it was carried out by a king and a primate at once so strong and so united in policy as the Conqueror and Lanfranc.

The first William, if an austere man, was a mighty ruler, who loved order and valued the services of good men: the second was a braggart and a blasphemer, whose life was unspeakably evil and whose greediness knew no shame. In his hands the royal supremacy became a hateful tyranny, and the relations between the Church and the Crown were disturbed. Early in the reign the change in these relations was illustrated by an appeal to Rome. William of Saint-Calais, bishop of Durham, an ambitious and crafty intriguer, was cited to appear before the king’s court on a charge of treason, and his lands were seized. He complained that his bishopric had been seized, and Lanfranc, who upheld the king’s action, answered that his fiefs were not his bishopric. Next he pleaded the privilege of his order, and refused to be judged by the lay barons. “If I may not judge you and your order to-day,” said Robert of Meulan, “you and your order shall never judge me.” If bishops refused the jurisdiction of the king’s court, they should cease to be members of it, they should no longer hold fiefs of the Crown. Finally, William appealed to Rome. Archbishop Robert had in exile appealed to the Pope against a decree of the national assembly; Bishop William, for the first time since the days of Wilfrith, made a like appeal in the presence of the king and his council. The sole object of Rufus was to obtain Durham Castle; the bishop surrendered it, and was allowed to go abroad, but he does not appear to have prosecuted his appeal.

The special danger which threatened the Church in this reign arose from the attempt to treat it as a feudal society. Ralph Flambard, the minister of Rufus, raised money for his master chiefly by exaggerating and systematizing the feudal elements already existing in civil life. The practice of granting the temporalities by investiture shows that, even before the Conquest, Church lands were to some extent regarded in a feudal light, and since then this idea had gained strength. Rufus treated them as mere lay fiefs, and dealt with the prelates simply as his tenants-in-chief. No profits could, of course, accrue to the Crown from Church lands, such as were gathered from lay fiefs in the form of reliefs, a payment made by the heir on entering on his estate, or from other feudal burdens of a like kind. When, therefore, a bishopric or royal abbey fell vacant, the king, to compensate himself for the disparity, instead of causing the property to be administered for the benefit of the Church, entered on the lands and treated them as his own. It thus became his interest to keep sees vacant until he received a large sum for them. Simony grew prevalent and the character of the clergy declined; they engaged in secular pursuits, farmed the taxes, and sought in all ways to make money. After the death of Lanfranc in 1089, the king kept the archbishopric vacant, and granted the lands of the see to be held by his friends or by the highest bidder. This was a different matter from his dealings with other sees; for the archbishop was the spiritual head of the nation, and constitutionally the chief adviser of the king and the foremost member of his court, as he had been of the witenagemÓt. Accordingly the barons saw the king’s conduct with displeasure. Rufus was not moved by greediness alone. While Lanfranc lived he had been forced to listen to his remonstrances with respect, and as he hated reproof, he determined not to appoint another archbishop as long as he could avoid doing so. He would, he declared to one of his earls, be archbishop himself. Neither the suffragan bishops nor the monks of Christ Church dreamed of electing without his order, and each year the state of the Church grew worse. At last Rufus fell sick and was like to die. Then the bishops and nobles entreated him, for his soul’s sake, to appoint a primate and do other works meet for repentance. He consented willingly, and they sent for Abbot Anselm, who chanced to be in England.

Anselm was a native of Aosta. Born and brought up amid the cloud-capt Alps, he longed when a child to climb the mountains and find God’s house, which, he had been told, was in the clouds. One night he dreamed that he had done so and had found the palace of the Great King: he sat at the Lord’s feet and told Him how grieved he was that His handmaids were idling in the harvest-fields below. Then, at the Lord’s bidding, the steward of the palace gave him bread of the purest whiteness, and he ate and was refreshed. The dream is told us by his friend and biographer, Eadmer, who no doubt heard it from his own lips. It was prophetic of his life and character. He grew up studious and holy; his learning was renowned through Europe, and by Lanfranc’s advice he entered the monastery of Bec, and became abbot there. He visited England more than once, and men marvelled to see how the stern Conqueror became gentle when he was by. When he was brought to the sick-bed of Rufus he received his confession and urged him to amend his life. The king, who thought that he was dying, promised to do so, and his lords begged him to begin by naming an archbishop. He raised himself in his bed, and pointing to Anselm, said, “I name yonder holy man.” There seems to have been no form of election; the king’s word was held a sufficient appointment. Anselm was sorely unwilling to accept the office; he believed that the king would recover, and he knew his evil heart. To make him archbishop was, he said, “to yoke an untamed bull and an old and feeble sheep together.” He told Rufus that if he consented, the grants made during the vacancy of the lands of the see must be revoked, and that he must take him as “his spiritual father and counsellor;” for such was the constitutional position of the primate with respect to the king. Lastly, he reminded the king that he had already acknowledged Urban II. as Pope; for Rufus had not yet decided between the two claimants for the papacy.

Before Anselm’s consecration the king recovered, and turned back to his evil ways. He tried to make Anselm promise that he would not reclaim the lands of the see which he had granted out as knights’ fees. To this Anselm could not agree, for he would not lessen the property of his church. Nevertheless he was consecrated, and did homage to the king, as the custom was. Before long Rufus wanted money for an expedition against Normandy. The archbishop offered £500. Rufus was advised to demand a larger sum, and sent the money back. His demand was evidently based on the idea that Anselm owed him much for making him archbishop; and Anselm, though willing to contribute to the king’s need, rejoiced that now no one could assert that he had made a simoniacal payment, and gave the money to the poor. When Rufus was about to sail, Anselm asked to be allowed to hold a synod, and the wrathful king answered him with jeers: “What will you talk about in your council?” Anselm fearlessly replied that he would speak of the foul vices that infected the land, and named the special vice of the king and his court. “What good will that do you?” asked the king. “If it does me no good,” was the answer, “I hope it will do something for God and for you.” He prayed him to fill the vacant abbacies. “Tush!” said the king, “you do as you will with your manors, and may I not do what I will with my abbeys?” In his eyes the rights of a patron were merely the rights of a lord over his lands. He left England in wrath with the archbishop. Anselm had not yet received the pall, and when the king came back he asked leave to go and fetch it. “From which Pope?” demanded the king; and Anselm answered, “From Urban.” Now, though Rufus had no objection to acknowledge Urban, he did not choose that any one should decide the matter save himself. He took his stand upon his father’s rule, and the rule was a good one, for the acknowledgment of a Pope was a matter of national policy. His fault lay in refusing to make his choice out of a sheer love of tyranny. A meeting of the great council was held at Rockingham to decide whether Anselm could maintain “his obedience to the Holy See without violating his allegiance to his earthly king.” The king most unfairly treated him as though the question had been decided against him and he was contumacious. The bishops took part against him, and their conduct shows how deeply the feudal idea had sunk: they were the “king’s bishops,” and their counsel was due to him and not to their metropolitan. William of Saint-Calais, now in favour again, even advised the king to take away the archbishop’s staff and ring, and at the king’s bidding the bishops renounced their obedience to him. The nobles, however, would not become instruments of a tyranny that might strike next at themselves. “He is our archbishop,” they said, “and the rule of Christianity in this land is his; and therefore we as Christians cannot, as long as we live, renounce his authority.” The matter was adjourned; yet it was something that the tyrant had been shown that men recognized higher laws of action than the feudal principles by which he sought to make Church and State alike subservient to his caprices.

As evil ever strives to master good, so the Red King was set on mastering Anselm. To this end he acknowledged Urban, persuaded him in return to send the pall to him, and then offered the legate who brought it a large sum for the Pope if he would depose Anselm. When the legate refused his offer, he tried to make Anselm give him money for the pall. In this, of course, he failed, and the pall was placed by the legate on the high altar of Canterbury Minster, whence Anselm took it. The next year the king found a new cause of quarrel; the military tenants of the archbishopric serving in the Welsh war were badly equipped, and he bade Anselm be ready to answer for it in his court. Anselm then petitioned to be allowed to go to Rome, and urged his request in spite of the king’s repeated refusals. His case was discussed at a meeting of the great council at Winchester. In persisting in his demand against the will of the king he was certainly acting contrary to the customs of the kingdom, and he was, if not in words, at least in fact, appealing to the Pope against the king. At the same time, it must be remembered that he had none to help him, and that he naturally turned to Rome as the place of strength and refreshment in his troubles. The bishops plainly told him: “We know that you are a holy man, and that your conversation is in Heaven; but we confess that we are hampered by our relations whom we support, and by our love of the manifold affairs of the world, and cannot rise to the height of your life.” Would he descend to their level? “Ye have said well,” he answered; “go, then, to your lord. I will hold me to God.” Nor were the nobles on his side. At Rockingham his demand was in accordance with the customs of the realm; here the case was different. Rufus declared that he might go, but that if he went he would seize the archbishopric. He went, and the king did as he had said. Urban received the archbishop magnificently, styling him the “pope and patriarch of another world,” and promising to help him. Council of Bari, 1098.At the Council of Bari the Pope called on him to defend the Catholic faith against the Greek heresy. His speech delighted the council; the conduct of Rufus was discussed, and it was decided that he ought to be excommunicated. Anselm, however, interceded for him, and his intercession availed. Although Urban in public spoke severely enough to a bishop whom Rufus sent to plead his cause, he talked more mildly in private; money was freely spent among the papal counsellors, and a day of grace was given to the king. It is scarcely too much to say that Anselm’s cause was sold. He was present at the Lateran Council in 1099, where he heard sentence of excommunication decreed against all who conferred or received investiture; his wrongs were spoken of with indignation, but nothing was done to redress them. He left Rome convinced that he could never return to England while Rufus lived, and was dwelling at Lyons when he heard of the king’s death.

In the first clause of the charter in which Henry I. declared the abolition of the abuses introduced by Rufus we read that he made “God’s holy Church free;” he would “not sell it nor put it to farm,” and he would take nothing from the demesne of bishopric or abbacy during a vacancy. He invited Anselm to return, and welcomed him joyfully. When, however, he called on him to do him homage on the restoration of his lands which Rufus had seized, Anselm refused; for he had laid to heart what he had heard at the Lateran council. It is evident that personally he had no objection to perform these acts, which he had already done to Rufus. His objection arose from the fact that they were now forbidden. Rome had spoken, and he felt bound to obey. As the question of Investitures forms the subject of a separate volume of this series, it will be enough to say here that the conveyance of the temporalities of a see was regarded in the feudal state as the chief thing in the appointment of a bishop, who received investiture of his office by taking the ring and crozier from the hands of the king—a ceremony which encouraged the feudalization of the Church and gave occasion for many abuses. At the same time, it was by no means desirable that a prelate should hold wide lands and jurisdictions without entering into the pledge of personal loyalty required of other lords. With the abstract side of the question, however, Anselm was not concerned. With him it was a matter of obedience, and he held that he was bound to obey the Pope rather than the law of the land. For the king’s demand was justified by the custom of England, and it was on this that he took his stand. “What,” he said, “has the Pope to do with my rights? Those that my predecessors possessed in this realm are mine.” Anselm would neither do homage nor consecrate the bishops elect who had received investiture. Yet the dispute was conducted with moderation on both sides. The archbishop in person brought his men to defend the king against the invasion of Robert; he forwarded Henry’s marriage and crowned his queen; while Henry, even during the progress of the dispute, authorized him to hold a synod and sanctioned its decrees. Stern as the king was, he loved order and justice, and his conduct presents a striking contrast to the conduct of his brother.

The closer relations with Rome introduced by the Conquest compelled the king to attempt to gain the Pope’s agreement to the English law. Paschal II., while bound to abide by the decision of the Lateran council, was evidently unwilling to alienate the king, and seems to have temporized. At last Anselm went to Rome, at the request of the king and the nobles, who no doubt hoped that he would learn there that the Pope was scarcely whole-hearted in the matter. His presence, however, seems to have stirred Paschal to give the king’s envoy a flat refusal. Henry then took the archbishopric into his hands, and Anselm remained abroad. During his absence the king embarked on a piece of ecclesiastical administration. His constant want of money led him to levy a fine on all the clergy who had disobeyed the decree of Anselm’s council by neglecting to put away their wives; and, finding the sum less than he calculated, he demanded a payment from every parish church. About two hundred priests, in their robes, waited on him barefoot, and prayed him to release them from this demand without success. At last, in 1107, the question of investitures was arranged between the king and the Pope, and the arrangement was sanctioned by a great council at London. The king gave up the investiture, and in return his right to homage was acknowledged. He may be said to have surrendered the shadow and to have secured the substance. While the chapters were allowed to choose the bishops, they were to exercise their right at the king’s court, where, of course, they were subject to his influence. Anselm again received the temporalities, and the vacant bishoprics were filled up. Throughout the dispute the clergy remained loyal to the king in his struggle with the feudal lords, and the affairs of the Church went on as usual. The speedy and satisfactory settlement of a question that agitated the Empire for half a century, and the moderate spirit in which it was debated, were mainly due to the character of the king; for Henry was a statesman of fertile genius, and, unlike Rufus, acted on well-defined principles. He was willing to grant the exact amount of freedom of action that seemed necessary to orderly development, while, at the same time, he kept that freedom in strict subordination to his own supremacy.

Acting on these principles, he allowed councils to be held, though, like his father, he made ecclesiastical legislation dependent on his sanction. At Anselm’s synod, held at Westminster in 1102, a return was made to the old English custom of the joint action of the clergy and laity; for the nobles took part in it along with the bishops and abbots. Synodical activity under Henry I.The suspension of synodical action during the reign of Rufus had weakened the authority of the Church, and it was thought advisable that both orders should act together in legislation. The first canon marks the growth of ecclesiastical jurisdiction consequent on the separation of the courts. Archdeacons had now become judicial officers over distinct territorial divisions, and as the profits of their courts were considerable, it became necessary to decree that they should not be farmed. An advance was made on Lanfranc’s legislation on clerical marriage; married priests and deacons were now ordered to put away their wives, an order which, as we have seen, was widely disregarded; no married man was to be admitted to the subdiaconate; tithes were not to be paid except to churches, and several decrees were made for the maintenance, dress, and general conduct of the clergy. Another national council, held in 1127, sat in the church of Westminster while the king held his court in the palace; just as now the Convocation of the Province of Canterbury and the High Court of Parliament are summoned to meet at the same time at Westminster.

Henry, like his father, aimed at establishing perfect harmony between Church and State, keeping both alike in absolute dependence upon himself. Accordingly he resisted any unauthorized interference on the part of the Pope with the affairs of the Church. Early in the reign a Burgundian archbishop landed here without invitation, claiming legatine authority over the whole kingdom. His claim was pronounced “unheard of.” Although the Conqueror had invited the Pope to send him legates for a specified purpose, the archbishop of Canterbury was held to be the permanent representative of the Holy See in England, a legatus natus, whose authority was not to be superseded by a special legate, or legatus a latere. No one acknowledged the legate’s authority, and “he went back,” Eadmer remarks, “as he came.” A more serious attempt to override the rights of the Church was made in the time of Anselm’s successor, Ralph. The king was in Normandy, and when it became known that a legate, Anselm’s nephew and namesake, was on his way hither, the bishops and nobles of the kingdom met in council, and sent Ralph over to Henry to request that he “would bring the innovation to nought,” and the king prevented the legate Anselm from landing. In the time of the next archbishop, William of Corbeuil, Henry was, for political reasons, anxious to stand well with Rome, and accordingly admitted into the kingdom a legate from Honorius II., named John of Crema. Men saw with indignation that this legate sat in the highest seat in the metropolitan church, and said mass in the archbishop’s stead, clad in episcopal vestments, though he was only a priest; “for both England and other countries knew that, from St. Augustin onwards, the archbishops were held to be primates and patriarchs, and were never made subject to a Roman legate.” At the same time, though John occupied the seat of honour at the council of 1125, the summons ran in the name of the archbishop and the decrees were confirmed by the king. While, then, the Crown, the English Church, and the papal representative acted concurrently, the royal authority was saved. It was not so with the see of Canterbury or with the national interests it represented, and the archbishop went to Rome to complain of the injury done to his see. Honorius silenced his complaints by giving him a legatine commission, a measure which, while gratifying William personally, lessened the inherent dignity of his see and the independence of the Church.

In spite of various efforts, the archbishops of York had hitherto been unable to evade the profession of obedience to Canterbury. Thurstan, the fourth since the Conquest, was a man of different mould from his predecessors, and refused to make the profession. Archbishop Ralph accordingly refused to consecrate him, and the king upheld the right of the primatial see, bidding Thurstan do what was due according to ancient usage. Thurstan was encouraged in his revolt by Popes Paschal II. and Calixtus II., who treated it as a good opportunity for a covert attack on the greatness of the English primate. The see of York remained vacant for about five years. At last Thurstan obtained leave from the king to attend the council held by Calixtus at Rheims, promising that he would not accept consecration from the Pope, while Calixtus undertook that he would do nothing to the prejudice of the see of Canterbury. Nevertheless Thurstan received consecration from Calixtus, and so escaped making the profession. Henry refused to allow him to return to England; and the next Pope, Honorius II., seems to have actually declared the kingdom under an interdict, though the sentence was not published here. The dispute went on for some years, and the old question appears even now to excite the local patriotism of some of the clergy of York. Yet it can scarcely be denied that Thurstan sacrificed the interests of the national Church to the aggrandizement of his see, and that both he and Calixtus got the better of the king by a somewhat discreditable trick. York was freed for ever from the obligation of obedience by a bull of Calixtus.

One phase of the quarrel between Canterbury and York concerned the Scottish bishops. On a vacancy of the see of St. Andrews, Alexander, king of Scots, was induced to write to Ralph of Canterbury, asking him to recommend a new bishop, and reminding him that the bishops of St. Andrews were always consecrated by the Pope or the archbishop of Canterbury, which was, of course, the reverse of the truth, for they were suffragans of York. Ralph highly approved of this new doctrine, and in course of time Eadmer, the historian, a monk of Canterbury, was duly elected. Meanwhile, however, Alexander had changed his mind, and commanded Eadmer to receive consecration from Thurstan. This he refused to do, for he was heart and soul a Canterbury man, and after much disputing, he was forced to return to his convent unconsecrated. The dispute between Canterbury and York encouraged some of the Scottish bishops to revolt against Thurstan, whose authority was upheld by Calixtus. This quarrel is memorable because the Pope accepted Thurstan’s theory that the king of Scots was the man of the king of England for Scotland, and not, as the Scots held, merely for Lothian or any other fief: in other words, he declared Scotland a vassal kingdom, a decision that became of importance later on. The question of canonical subjection was debated between St. Andrews and York, until, in 1188, Clement III. declared the Scottish Church immediately dependent on the Holy See. The upshot of these disputes was, that the archbishops of Canterbury ceased to be the “primates and patriarchs of Britain,” for York was freed from dependence upon them, and their attempt to extend their jurisdiction over Scotland utterly failed. On the other hand, the authority of Canterbury was established in Wales by the election to the see of St. David’s of the Norman Bernard, who received consecration from Archbishop Ralph, and made profession to him.

The ecclesiastical system of the Norman kings may be summed up as a generally successful attempt to give the Church power of action apart from the State, so far as was consistent with the supremacy of the Crown. Under Rufus this system became a mere means of tyranny; and among the many glories that attend the memory of St. Anselm, not the least is that he delivered the Church from the domination of the feudal idea, which would have destroyed her spirituality and left her helpless before the royal power. By the Conqueror and Henry I. the supremacy was used to establish harmony of action between Church and State, and to preserve the national character of the Church. Nevertheless the new relations with Rome introduced by the Conquest began to bear fruit in Henry’s time, for on all occasions, both by the grant of legatine commissions and by upholding the pretensions of York, the Popes strove to depress the primatial see and to increase their own authority in England.

Although Henry had none of the brutal contempt for law that distinguished his brother, he was not less despotic, and his policy towards the Church differed from that pursued by his father in that, while the Conqueror made her co-ordinate under himself with the State, he degraded her to the position of a servant. He kept the see of Canterbury vacant for five years after the death of Anselm; all ecclesiastical matters were governed by political or personal considerations rather than with an eye to the true interests of the Church, and Henry was not above making money from ecclesiastical appointments. His chief adviser was Roger, bishop of Salisbury, an able minister and a magnificent noble, who owed his preferment to his administrative talents; for Henry employed clerical ministers, partly because he was thus enabled to secure men who had received a regular official training as royal clerks, and partly, no doubt, because their celibacy made it less likely that they would put their authority to a dangerous use. He rewarded them with bishoprics and other preferments, and thus secularized the Church in order to make her serve the State. At the same time, his reign saw the beginning of a movement that was destined to revive her spiritual character, and by that revival to increase her power and dignity. This quickened influence was due to the higher life that followed the introduction of the Cistercian rule.