The Trial of Penenden Heath

Odo of Bayeux had it all. He was the half-brother of Duke William of Normandy (they shared a mother), who made him a bishop. When William took over the throne of England in 1066, Odo provided ships and support and fought in the battles. He was a close advisor to King William, was made Earl of Kent, and was given the responsibility to act as regent in England when William went back to the continent. You can see him in the illustration at a feast from the Bayeux Tapestry, under the Latin term for bishop, episcopus.

Not all went smoothly for Odo, however.

Ten years after the Norman Invasion of England, he was on trial, though not necessarily because of his own actions. The accusation was brought by Lanfranc. In 1070, Lanfranc had become the Archbishop of Canterbury, and decided to look into both Odo and the previous Archbishop of Canterbury, Stigand. Lanfranc (who was pretty strict: he had denied William's marriage to Matilda on the grounds of consanguinity), suspected the two had defrauded Kent and the Crown in order to enrich themselves.

While it seems that lands belonging to Canterbury (and their revenues) were being possessed by the Earl of Kent, it is also likely that this transfer of land was not initiated by Odo, but had taken place prior to the Invasion by the powerful Earl Godwin, taken from his enemy, Robert of Jumièges, the previous archbishop. Odo had simply inherited the lands appropriated by his unscrupulous predecessor. The king decided to throw the decision onto the nobles of Kent, and declared a trial on Penenden Heath (now a suburb of Maidstone in Kent). The Trial brought in current lords as well as those who had knowledge of the Saxon laws and history. The Trial showed respect for English history prior to William's reign.

(Penenden remained a useful gathering place. The Domesday Book recorded it as a place where Kent landowners gathered to discuss matters. Wat Tyler used it as a staging place for a mob during the Peasants' Revolt.)

After three days, it was determined that certain properties did not belong to Odo, or rather, did not belong to the Earl of Kent. He subsequently lost a lot of the revenue he had previously taken in. This was not a reflection on Odo or his governance of Kent; it simply restored and re-apportioned properties appropriately according to what was considered historical.

How Odo took the judgment, we cannot say. A few years later, however, he initiated a project that would cause him to fall out of his half-brother's favor, and ultimately lead to imprisonment and disgrace. I'll share that story with you next time.

William and Matilda

William wanted to marry the daughter of Baldwin V of Flanders, Matilda, in 1049, but Pope Leo IX did not approve. William was illegitimate (his mother was his father's mistress), and the two were cousins close enough to offend the concerns of consanguinity.

Flanders was a very powerful French territory, so the marriage would actually do more for William's status than Matilda's. According to some stories, Matilda saw this and said she would never marry someone of such lower status, whereupon William road to Bruges, and either 1) forced his way into her bedroom and beat her, or 2) met her on the road, dragged her from her horse by her hair, and "courting her" in the mud. Here father was outraged, but was stayed from getting revenge by Matilda saying she would marry William or no one.

What kind of man was he? The only surviving piece of him is a femur, from which the height of 5'10" can be deduced. This would make him tall for his time. He was considered a great fighter and very strong, able to draw bowstrings that others could not. A contemporary, Geoffrey Martel, Count of Anjou, says he was without equal as a fighter and horseman. Although considered greedy and cruel by contemporaries, he was also praised for his piety.

William turned to the abbot of Bec, Lanfranc, for help with the pope. Lanfranc also opposed the marriage, so William exiled him from Normandy, but at the last minute forgive him if Lanfranc would take on the task of convincing the pope to relent. A pope finally approved the marriage some time in the 1050s, but it was probably post-ceremony: William and Matilda had gone ahead and married without papal approval, it is assumed. One of the persuasions that supposedly worked to get the pope on their side was the founding of two monasteries, one by the groom and one by the bride.

The union produced four sons and several daughters. There is no inkling that William had mistresses on the side. As a mother, she made sure all her children were well-educated.

He trusted Matilda to rule when he was absent, and she was involved in many of the affairs of state. The illustration shows both of their signatures on the Accord of Winchester, which established the primacy of the Archbishop of Canterbury over the Archbishop of York. (It did not go over well with everyone.) After he went to England (and she bought a ship with her own money to contribute to the invasion), she stayed in Normandy until 1068, waiting to be crowned Queen of England until it could take place at Pentecost (11 May 1068). Phrases were added to the ceremony elevating queenship to be equal to kingship in terms of divine authority.

In the summer of 1083 she fell ill, and died on 2 November. William swore to give up hunting (his favorite pastime) as an expression of grief. She was buried under the floor at l'Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. When her skeleton was examined in 1959, it was determined that she was 5' in height, a typical stature for the day.

And now we turn to an earlier moment, when a member on England's royalty visited William and, perhaps, made him a promise.

Anselm of Canterbury

Anselm of Canterbury has been referred to in this blog a few times by one of his other names, Anselm of Bec. He was born 1033/34 in the Upper Burgundy (Italy) region. His parents were both from noble families. His father was a Lombard noble, Gundulph; his mother, Ermenberge, was the granddaughter of Conrad the Peaceful, one-time King of Burgundy. Unfortunately, wars in Burgundy caused partitioning and transferring of territory, and Anselm's parents lost many of their estates.

The loss of political power in the family did not matter to Anselm, who at the age of 15 decided to pursue a religious life. His father opposed this, and Anselm fell ill for a time, perhaps psychosomatically, after which he gave up on education and acted the carefree youth. When Ermenberge passed away, possibly when giving birth to Anselm's sister, Gundulph became obsessively religious himself and entered a monastery when Anselm was 23. Anselm left home with a single attendant and spent the next three years wandering through Burgundy and France.

His wandering drew him to the Benedictine Abbey of Bec, whose abbot was the renowned and learned Lanfranc. When Anselm's father died, the young man asked Lanfranc's advice: return home and use the wealth of the family's remaining estates to provide alms for the poor, or give them up altogether and become a monk? Lanfranc, feeling his advice would be a conflict of interest, sent Anselm to Archbishop Maurilius of Rouen. Maurilius told Anselm to become a novice at Bec. Anselm was 27.

Anselm threw himself into his studies at Bec, and in his first year produced his first of many writings, a fictional discussion of grammar that resolves some of the inconsistencies and paradoxes that arise from Latin nouns and adjectives. It begins:

Student. Concerning (an) expert-in-grammar I ask that you make me certain whether it is a substance or a quality, so that once I know this I will know what I ought to think about other things which in a similar way are spoken of paronymously.
Teacher. First tell me why you are in doubt.
S. Because, apparently, both alternatives—viz., that it is and is not [the one or the other]—can be proved by compelling reasons.
T. Prove them, then.
S. Do not be quick to contradict what I am going to say; but allow me to bring my speech to its conclusion, and then either approve it or improve it.
T. As you wish.

S. The premises

(i) Every/Everything expert-in-grammar is a man,

(ii) Every man is a substance,

[link]

It is heavily influenced by Boethius and his writings on Aristotle.  It is not casual reading for anyone today.

In 1063, when Anselm was 30, William the Conqueror asked Lanfranc to become abbot of a new abbey William built at Caen in Normandy. The monks at Bec elected Anselm to become prior, a lesser role but the person in charge in the absence of an abbot. He maintained a strict Benedictine Rule; after 15 years he was finally named abbot.

Bec attracted students from all over due to its reputation for learning during Anselm's time in charge. He continued to write, and he fought for the abbey's independence from secular influence, as well as from religious influence from people such as the archbishop of Rouen. Bec was enhanced by being granted lands in England after 1066. Anselm would sometimes visit England to check on the abbey's estates, to appear before his secular lord, William, and to visit Lanfranc, who by now was Archbishop of Canterbury. Anselm impressed William, and he was probably by then on a "short list" of candidates for Archbishop of Canterbury to succeed Lanfranc.

When Lanfranc died in 1089, however, William was gone and the throne was held by his son, William II "Rufus." Rufus had other plans. I'll tell you about Anselm's rocky path to archbishop next time.

Oblates

Becoming a monk was not always a choice. Sometimes it was the default choice for someone with no skills that he could turn into a career, or for someone who had no taste for farming. Sometimes, parents would decide that the church was the best option for their child.

The Venerable Bede was a puer oblatus, a "boy oblate," sent to be raised at a monastery at the age of seven. The word oblate, in fact, means someone who has been offered. Monasteries that adhered to the Rule of St. Benedict accepted oblates that young—it was their chief source of new members—until 656CE, when the Tenth Council of Toledo forbade boys before the age of ten. Orderic Vitalis was given to his monastery at ten or eleven, and could take vows as early as fourteen. Archbishop Lanfranc of Canterbury suggested that oblates could take vows when the authorities of the monastery decided he was mature enough to understand and handle the obligations involved.

Various monasteries had their own policies regarding oblates. The 11th century About William of Hirschau defined two kinds of oblate:

—fratres barbati ("bearded brethren), also called conversi (converts), who took vows but did not have to be clean-shaven or live cloistered.
—oblati (oblates), workmen who followed religious rules while working at the monastery.

Other terms were used over the centuries: commissioned, donates, confronter, with various distinctions that changed over time. Despite the many approaches to managing and designating those who wished to be involved in the monastic or priestly life, the chief distinction was between those who entered fully and took all vows, and those who were only partially committed.

Which leads me to a new idea about oblates: a third order, for lay members of religious orders. There is a long history of this, which I'll tell you about tomorrow.

The Charter of Liberties

A copy of the Coronation Charter of Henry I/Charter of Liberties

When William Rufus died, his younger brother Henry assumed the throne. It should have gone to the oldest brother, Robert Curthose, who was away on the First Crusade, because of an agreement between William and Robert. After all, when their father died, Henry was given a chunk of money; he wasn't even given a plot of land to rule the way Robert was given the dukedom of Normandy and William got England. The nobles didn't want to accept Henry at first. It was probably the Charter of Liberties that changed their minds.

The Charter of Liberties is also known as the Coronation Charter. It is the earliest extant coronation charter from England. In it, the new king makes promises to uphold laws. The statements made in this particular Charter were popular because they undid many of the acts of William that were unpopular.

For instance, statement 1 promises that Henry "shall not take or sell any property from a Church upon the death of a bishop or abbot, until a successor has been named to that Church property." (William had left the position of Archbishop of Canterbury lie vacant after the death of Lanfranc, so that he could appropriate the revenue from the archbishop's lands.)

Statement 6 forgives "all debts and pleas which were owing to my brother, except those which were lawfully made through an inheritance."

Statement 8 reverses the practice of being forced to bribe the king: "If any of my barons commit a crime, he shall not bind himself to the crown with a payment as was done in the time of my father and brother, but shall stand for the crime as was custom and law before the time of my father, and make amends as are appropriate."

Other statements put more control in the hands of the barons, and promise that the Crown shall not act rashly. When Robert Curthose went on the First Crusade, William gave him 10,000 marks—the equivalent of 25% of the annual royal budget. William got this money from a very heavy tax levied on the whole of England.

Even though in the normal course of events Henry would not have been part of the succession, the Charter of Liberties presented at his coronation helped to "sell" him to the noble class.

The Fighting Bishop

Tomb of Remigius, Lincoln Cathedral [link]

A "ship list" exists of the ships used by William of Normandy when he conquered England in 1066. It records who contributed the ship and in many cases the men and supplies aboard. One of the ships was provided by Remigius de Fécamp, a Benedictine monk.

The exact participation of Remigius is in dispute. According to the historian Henry of Huntingdon (c.1088 - c.1157), Remigius fought at the Battle of Hastings, bringing 20 knights along with his ship. Gerald of Wales, however, who thought so highly of Remigius that he tried to get him canonized as a saint (it never happened), said he only came along with 10 knights that were sent from the region of Fécamp.

His contribution must have been significant, because after the Conquest he was made the Bishop of Dorchester, which at the time was the largest diocese in England. But he had to continue "fighting": his ordination by Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury was a point of contention when papal legates came to England in 1070 and pushed Stigand out of his office, also reversing the appointment of Remigius to Dorchester. Stigand's successor, Lanfranc, wouldn't touch the subject of Remigius' legitimacy, and Remigius had to travel to Rome in 1071 to seek forgiveness from Pope Alexander II and become "properly" re-appointed as a bishop.

Was there smooth sailing now that he was recognized as Bishop of Dorchester? Not quite. There were two archbishoprics in England—York and Canterbury—and each one claimed that Dorchester belonged in its territory and Remigius' loyalty was to that archbishop. Lanfranc and the Archbishop of York, Thomas of Bayeaux, appealed to Pope Alexander II who, even though he was a former pupil of Lanfranc's and held him in high esteem, refused to take sides, pushing the debate back to the king's council in England.

The council ruled that Dorchester (and Lichfield and Worcester, to which York also lay claim), belonged to Canterbury. Still, Thomas would occasionally ask for help from Remigius, such as during the consecration of the Bishop of the Orkney Islands. Remigius, not wanting to set a precedent that he "worked for" York, appealed to Canterbury to keep him away from the ceremony.

Remigius had a long and busy career, taking part in William's courts, and sitting on the commission that produced the Domesday Book. He died on 7 May 1092 and was buried in Lincoln Cathedral, where his bones, chalice, paten, and half of his crozier were recovered in 1927.

And Then There's Maud

Matilda of Flanders (c.1031-1083), also called Maud, was the wife of William II of Normandy (later William the Conqueror). Their legendary and odd "courtship" was described here. The odd thing is that, after the supposed abuse he heaped on her when she first refused his hand, she later defied her father, Count Baldwin of Flanders, and refused to marry anyone else.

The pope objected, because they were too closely related. Determining the exact relationship has been difficult for modern scholars, however:

It has thus been suggested that both William and Matilda were cousins in the fifth degree, being both directly descended from Rolf the Viking. ... Finally, it has been suggested (perhaps with greater probability) that the prohibition was based on the fact that after the death of Baldwin V's mother, Ogiva, his father, Baldwin IV, had married a daughter of Duke Richard II of Normandy. All these theories have difficulties to overcome, and the matter may well therefore be left in some suspense. —William the Conqueror, David C. Douglas (1964)

We know that she was a direct descendant of Alfred the Great, and also was a descendant of Charlemagne, but those connections should not have sparked the pope's concern. Whatever his objections, they were overcome eventually with the help of Lanfranc (see the link above).

Matilda proved to be an admirable consort. She outfitted a ship, the Mora, with her own funds to join his fleet for the Conquest of England. She also had skills as an administrator: William left the Duchy of Normandy in her hands when he headed to England in 1066 to defeat Harold. In fact, although she did spend time with her husband in England—notably when she accompanied him during his Harrying of the North campaign—except for giving birth to their fourth child, Henry, in Yorkshire while on that campaign, all of their other children were born in Normandy.

One thing she likely did not do is work on the Bayeaux Tapestry. As picturesque as the image is of her and her ladies in waiting working away as seamstresses and embroiderers, it is now believed that the tapestry (actually a banner) was arranged by Bishop Odo of Bayeaux (William's half-brother) and created by Kentish artists.

So far as we know, once she captured William's heart she never let it go again. There are no records of William having any children outside of his marriage, or of taking a mistress. They had nine children, all of whom lived to adulthood. Two of them became kings: William II, called Rufus, who ruled England after the Conqueror, and Henry who ruled after William as Henry I.

Her illness and death, with William at her side, was devastating for her husband. William survived her by four years, but he was changed. True, in 1085 he called for the Domesday Book, but his interest in ruling England was waning, and he returned to Normandy for good in 1086. There are also reports that he became more cruel. When he died, he was buried in Caen, near but not with his wife. While he was buried at Abbaye aux Hommes (Abbey of Men), at which Lanfranc had once been abbot, Matilda was interred down the road at the Abbaye aux Dames (Abbey of Women), which had been founded by William and Matilda in 1062. She is buried under a slab of black marble.

Matilda of Flanders died 929 years ago today. The illustration is a statue of her in Paris

Thorkill of Arden

When Leofric, Earl of Mercia, died in 1057, his estate of Kingsbury passed to his widow, the Countess Godgifu, better known to later generations by the Latin version of her name, Godiva. The Domesday Book, compiled on King William's orders in 1086, lists her as a landowner as of the Conquest in 1066, but no longer. So where did her property go?

Prior to William of Normandy's attack in 1066, Edward the Confessor had been inviting Normans over the Channel as councilors; several of them had already been given lands. After 1066, Normans were put into all positions of power, and Saxon nobles were demoted to lesser landholders. Two Saxons, however, had chosen to support William in 1066. One of these was Thorkill of Arden (also called Turchill).

Early Heraldry for Arden

Thorkill's father, Æthelwine, was a nephew of Leofric and the Sheriff of Warwickshire in 1066. Perhaps Thorkill saw supporting William as a way to enhance his own standing. Perhaps he truly believed that William was the rightful ruler; reasons why he might were discussed here. Perhaps he just didn't like Harold. In any case, he was confirmed as Sheriff after his father's death.

At some point—the simplest explanation is the death of the Countess Godiva, whose date we do not know—King William gave Kingsbury and its 700 acres to Thorkill. This made Thorkill the sole member of the pre-1066 Saxon nobility to hold an estate of any significance at the time of Domesday.*

Thorkill held Kingsbury for several years; he is listed as the landowner in Domesday. King William's third son was crowned William II on 26 September, 1087 by Bishop Lanfranc. William II was in many ways a successful king, although not universally popular; perhaps confiscating people's lands had a role. William took Kingsbury away from Thorkill. That was not the end of the Arden family's prosperity, however: they remained prominent in Warwickshire politics. A descendant, Mary Arden, was the mother of Shakespeare.

*That is, of the nobility; Bishop Wulfstan of Worcester was, technically, the most powerful Englishman in 1086.

Lanfranc, Part 2 (of 2)

The Transformation of Matter

Of Lanfranc's (c.1005-1089) many accomplishments, perhaps the most far-reaching was his writing on the subject of transubstantiation, the doctrine that the bread and wine in the Christian mass become the body and blood of Christ.

Not all authorities agreed on exactly what was meant in Matthew, Mark and Luke when Jesus offered bread and wine to the Apostles. St. Ignatius of Antioch, in a letter to the Romans, was very clear in 106 CE when he said  "I desire the bread of GOD, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ." Paschasius Radbertus (785-865) wrote that the substance of the bread and wine was identical to the body and blood of Christ in heaven.

Although many early church fathers wrote in support of this, there was mild opposition for generations. A turning point came when Berengar of Tours (c. 999–January 6, 1088), a brilliant theologian, declared that the divinity imbued in the Eucharist did not rely on a change in its physical material. This was not radical enough to get him condemned--it acknowledged the special quality of the bread and wine--but Berengar wrote a letter to Lanfranc, chastising him for not rejecting Paschasius' view as well. The letter had to travel from Tours to Rome, where Lanfranc was at the time; by the time it reached Lanfranc, it had been read by several people, and the beginning of a public conflict was in the air. Lanfranc, knowing that Berengar's view was not looked upon favorably, and not wanting to prejudice the pope against Lanfranc's own future, took up the cause and wrote a public argument in opposition to Berengar. The world had a new and respected authority now for the transformation of the body and blood of Christ. The term transubstantiated was used to describe the change in the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215, and Protestant Christianity had a point of contention for centuries to come.

(Teaser: for me, the best piece of doctrinal explanation came from a student of Lanfranc, who also became Archbishop of Canterbury. I look forward some day to telling you about Anselm of Bec.)

Lanfranc, Part 1 (of 2)

Scholar and Teacher, Priest and Politician

There are two reasons why I want to mention Lanfranc today. One is because today is the 923rd anniversary of his death.* The second is because I want to discuss his most famous pupil in the future, and this is nice background for that.

Lanfranc (c.1005-1089) was born in Italy, educated in the liberal arts, and moved to France to teach, finally deciding to join the abbey at Bec in Normandy in 1042. In 1045 the abbot persuaded him to open a school in the abbey. His reputation drew students from France, Flanders, Germany and Italy.

His understanding and teaching of religious doctrine produced powerful thinkers who rose high in ecclesiastical ranks. Lanfranc himself ultimately became Archbishop of Canterbury, but not before a strange political somersault.

Duke William of Normandy, also called William the Bastard (and later William the Conqueror) wished to marry Matilda of Flanders. Two items stood in his way (three, if you want to believe the legend): his bastardy (he was the son of his father's mistress), and the fact that they were too closely related to satisfy custom and law. (The third thing is that Matilda supposedly refused to marry a bastard; and I guess there's a fourth thing, if you want to assume that she didn't like the fact that he was so angry with her that he angrily dragged her off her horse by her braids and threw her to the ground.) Lanfranc publicly opposed the marriage as inappropriate. Duke William (of Normandy, and Bec Abbey is in Normandy, remember) sent Lanfranc into exile; on the point of departure, however, he was forgiven and took on the task of persuading the pope to consent to the marriage! (I would love to tell you that he was the man for the job because the pope had been a student of Lanfranc's, but Pope Alexander II, who had been a student of Lanfranc's, didn't become pope until 1061.) Lanfranc's arguments succeeded, however, William and Matilda got married, William later decided to conquer England, and the rest is (English) history.

So when an Archbishop of Canterbury was needed years later, Lanfranc was rewarded for helping out William. His first job was to straighten out Thomas of Bayeaux, the Archbishop of York, who thought that York was empowered to operate independently of Canterbury's authority. Lanfranc was having none of that, and figured Thomas owed him one, since Lanfranc had given him passing grades years ago. Thomas, however, did not give in to his former teacher, so Lanfranc turned to Pope Alexander II who was now on the throne of Peter and agreed to allow Lanfranc to get it settled by a council of the English church, which met at Winchester. Lanfranc got the primacy he wanted, agreed to by the king and queen with their "X"s on the document. Before Alexander II could ratify the ruling on the Canterbury-York dispute, however, he died and was replaced by Gregory VII, who wasn't inclined to rubber-stamp England's rulings. The argument stretched out for years.

Lanfranc was a powerful help to the king, among other things foiling a conspiracy against the king and helping to ensure the succession of the next king. But what history cares about is his contributions to theological doctrine, of which more soon.

*To be honest, that date is disputed; some say it was May 24.