loss of their flowing locks, and put on again the form of men.[1] Others were stubborn; they received neither ashes nor absolution. In this battle with a foolish custom which was in truth far more than a foolish custom, Anselm had not a few forerunners or followers. Saint Wulfstan, Gundulf, Serlo of Seez, all preached and acted vigorously against the long hair which was the symbol of the crying vice of the time.[2] Anselm deemed that the evil called for something more than a single act of discipline. The man of God felt called on to strike at the root of the mischief; he was moved to make a warning appeal to the conscience, if any conscience was left, of the chief sinner of them all, and he made it, after his wont, at once gently and vigorously.
Anselm's interview with the King.
His silence about the war.
We may guess that the King had not been present at
the ceremonies of Ash-Wednesday; had he been there,
his presence would surely have been dwelled upon. It
seems that Anselm, though openly out of the King's
favour, still visited him from time to time. One day
therefore he went and sat down beside him, and spoke
what was in his heart.[3] The King was setting forth to
conquer Normandy. It is to be noticed that Anselm
does not say a word as to the right or wrong of the war.
Perhaps, after the challenge of Robert, the cause of
Rufus may have seemed, even to him, to be technically
just. Perhaps he knew that anything that could be
- ↑ Here we come personally across the class of offenders of whom we have before spoken generally (see above, p. 158, and Appendix G). Eadmer draws their picture; "Eo tempore curialis juventus ferme tota crines suos juvencularum more nutriebat, et quotidie pexa, ac irreligiosis nutibus circumspectans, delicatis vestigiis, tenero incessu, obambulare solita erat. De quibus cum in capite jejunii sermonem in populo ad missam suam et ad cineres confluente idem pater habuisset, copiosam turbam ex illis in pœnitentiam egit, et attonsis crinibus, in virilem formam redegit."
- ↑ See Appendix G.
- ↑ This is pointed out by Eadmer. "Die quadam ad eum ex more ivit, et juxta illum sedens eum his verbis alloqui cœpit." We shall come to other instances of this custom of the Archbishop sitting down beside the King.
