William Rufus (ENGLISH MONARCHS)

I have enjoyed other entries in the English Monarchs' series, but this one just didn't hit with me. I looked forward to this because the subject, William Rufus, does not have much of a presence in modern literature. I will admit that the author does not have much to work with in terms of records, but there seems to be an overemphasis on finances and coinage. I understand this is part of being a Monarch in the Dark and Middle Ages, but at some point, enough is enough.Other points also are beaten over and over, perhaps because of the need to fill out a full book. On the other hand, when the author focuses on Rufus specifically and some of the characters of the court who surround him, as well as Rufus as a fighter and leader, this to me is where the biography shines.

This book covers the reign of the second Norman king of England. The son of William the Conqueror, William Rufus (A name that he probably never used in his lifetime) was the successor to his fathers kingdom but not his estates in Normandy. As king of England he continued his fathers policies with definite, but more limited success. A homosexual who never married, he fought with the church who thought him a corrupt and immoral man. This biography brings this little known king to life. Although somewhat dry this book maintained my interest throughout. Although not the most interesting figure in early English history, William was an important one and this biography will likely remain the best resource available on him.

... but the book itself was a little dry. It does go through William Rufus's slightly boring reign very well and his quarrels with Anselm. The tax records are kind of dry. It did take me a bit to get through.

If you're into British history, then you'll enjoy this one. Frank Barlow is definitely an expert on the 11th century. Considering how little information there is about William II, this is a pretty comprehensive look at his life. There's a lot more I'd like to know, but that isn't the author's fault. There's only so much information about certain medieval characters.I'm now reading The Godwins, also by Frank Barlow and also very enlightening.

Very entertaining and informative. Puts medieval history into prospective.

Frank Barlow's book on William Rufus seems to have two audiences, both of which are justifiable as potential readership. First is the scholarly community. After all, this is a book about a king rarely if ever studied in depth and the book stands as a resource for future work on early Norman England. The second audience is the general public interested in the history of the English monarchy. I read it as part of the second audience. Since he is writing for historians also, I was not surprised by what seemed at times like excessive detail. For example, Barlow will cite a charter signed by William and then list all the signers, including individuals rarely if ever mentioned again in the book. Sometimes such a list can take almost a full paragraph. Also, at times, especially in the middle chapters about the administration of the king's court and in sections dealing with the financial issues of the king, the details are stultifying to the general reader. But I do not think this should be held against the book. After all, this is a record of William Rufus and the details of that record gathered together in one place are necessary for future historical work. It is a scholarly history book of the first rank.But when Barlow writes for his second audience, the person who wants to learn about English history, the book soars. There are major sections that are as enthralling as anything that the BBC or HBO could produce. For example, the fascinating relationship between the crude, illiterate but savvy soldier-king, William, and the brilliant, logical and refined Anselm are unforgettable. Anselm, who is known to many philosophy students as the original mind behind the "ontological argument" for God and who wanted to spend his life as an intellectual living for God, was basically forced, physically, to take the largely administrative position of Archbishop of Canterbury when William thought he was dying. After William's return to health and "normal procedure" for him, the unbridgeable gap between these two men became glaringly obvious. Anselm had a four year ongoing feud with William before finally being exiled. Anselm is brought to life in these pages and given a dimensional reality that one will never get in studying his logical or theological writings. The give-and-take between them is priceless. But Anselm is not the only fascinating character in here. Ranulf Flambard, William's chief advisor, stands out as the Wolsey of his day - a ruthless "cleric" who understood power and how to manipulate it. William's brother Robert, who becomes Duke of Normandy after the Conqueror's death, first helps his brother, then fights his brother, then negotiates with his brother (a couple times), and finally takes off on the First Crusade. Their relationship and the politics behind it is a sibling puzzle that Barlow makes as comprehensible as possible to the reader. Another example of bringing William to life is Barlow's description of his court and the characters it, complete with long hair, shoes with curly points at the end, and a general atmosphere of "live it up." This horrified Anselm and many others of the monks writing later about William, but Barlow is superb in pointing out that this is completely distinct from William's real courage and, at times, strong leadership. Indeed, many of the writers about William very soon after his death by arrow while hunting (another great scene) emphasize his positive qualities. Later writers had a different agenda. As Barlow notes several times, the negative image of William lies as much in the source of the writings about him as in the man himself. William was, in fact, a complex man capable of great courage and inexplicable cruelty, incredible forthrightness and shrewd cunning. He was, in other words, a very good example of a medieval king who, had he lived, might be viewed quite differently by history.Some may say that Barlow should have written two books, one for the scholars and one for the general public. But the very detail that at times makes one say "enough!" is necessary in other places to bring these great characters to life. For both the historian and the general reader, this is a first rate biography of one of the most colorful characters in early medieval history.

This biography of William II is still the standard study of an often overlooked and usually underrated king, whose reign between 1087 and 1100 is too readily regarded as a brief, indistinct, and unremarkable interregnum between those of his father, the Conqueror, and his brother, Henry I, to whom he is by many unfavorably compared. However, as Frank Barlow shows, William Rufus (a posthumous appelation associated with his ruddy complection and temper more than hair) was an important king in himself, consolidating the achievements of his predecessor and paving the way for his successor, whose administrative reforms too often obscure how similar his means of governing were to his brother's.The prevailing image of William II is heavily dependent upon the moralistic characterisations of him as libertine, associate of depravity, and persecutor and despoiler of the Church, but Barlow debunks the most serious of these charges. William may not have been the model of uxoriousness that was his father, and it is true he never married - although as he died aged 40, marriage remained possible if a suitable candidate emerged, perhaps Edith who was to marry Henry I - and had no heir, but there is no conclusive evidence that he was homosexual or that his naturally homosocial court was especially depraved (his brother may have presented a more conventional face, but still fathered many children upon his multiple mistresses).As to the Church, the charges relate primarily to his exploitation of episcopal and abbatical vacancies and his imposition of clerical aids, but these were necessitated by the financial demands of his defensive and offensive military campaigns and the funds he needed to buy the mortgage of Normandy when his elder brother joined the First Crusade in 1096-99, and to the breakdown of his relationship with Anselm, the saintly archbishop of Canterbury, which resulted in the latter's exile. It is this latter, particularly as told by the archbishop's chaplain and partisan biographer, Eadmer, which raised the most monastic ire, but this was as much a clash of personalities as a dispute over secular and spiritual jurisdiction. William had appointed Anselm after becoming seriously ill in 1093 after keeping Canterbury in his own hands after the death of the more worldly Lanfranc, and came to regret his choice as soon as he recovered. Anselm had resisted his appointment for the very reasons that caused his problems with the king, but once in office he sought to bolster the authority of his archdiocese and to serve as William's spiritual adviser, but this was not to the liking of a ruler who was only conventionally religious and regarded the Church as both source of patronage and bulwark of royal authority. Whatever the faults of William regarding the Church, conventional as they were, and he remained a patron of ecclesiastical houses if not a founder like his father and brother, the error remains a personal one, rather than political or ecclesiastical, in his choice of an archbishop at a time of weakness with whom he was unable to work since their views were so different at a time of Gregorian Reform and towards the end of the Invenstitute Contest, when William's traditional royalist attitudes towards the Church were being superceded. And, in view of the benefits that accrued at a time he was duke of Normandy in locus and engaged in military operations in and beyond the duchy borderlands, Anselm's exile and the taking of Canterbury into royal hands, were at least financially advantageous, even necessary, for William.Although administrative historians are impressed by the achievements of Henry I, a product of the records that have survived, William's government remained effective and efficient in England, if, perhaps, more personal, and conducted through a small group of trusted advisers who could act as justiciars de facto on his behalf and in his absence, the most notorious of whom was Ranulf Flambard. But as Barlow shows, the attacks upon Ranulf after the king's death were no different from those commonplace against a fallen minister who was clearly a skilled administrator of the king's will, and that William's exploitations were not beyond those of his fellow Norman kings, while Henry I, who renounced these in his coronation charter, soon went back upon his commitment once he was sufficiently secure, and was arguably more economically rapacious than his brother, although less open to ecclesiastical censure through his restoration of Anselm and his greater willingness to fill episcopal and abbatical vacancies.William II was a succesful king, leaving his realm in comparative peace and unity to his brother, and in his thirteen years as king further secured the achievements of his father, extending Norman rule in the north and in relation to Scotland, although less successfully in Wales. He was a strong, confident king, whose recorded, blunt but pertinent sayings make not unattractive, and he may well have achieved much had he lived, continuing to outshine his brother Robert and perhaps presiding over similar administrative changes to those of Henry. At the end, Barlow deals comprehensively with the circumstances of William II's death in the New Forest, and all in all paints a valuable portrait of a competent and successful Anglo-Norman king in a well written and sourced biography.Perhaps William's biggest failures were not to have a favourable contemporary biographer who could have preserved a better record of his rule and thereby allowed him the greater historical prominence he deserves, and to have reigned at a time when traditional royal control of the Church was soon to be superceded by the spiritual-secular condominium which was to extend from the 1122 Concordat of Worms into the fourteenth century and the emergence of national churches, and whose clerical advocates were to write censoriously of Wiliam Rufus and his times. But, in Barlow at least, William II has found a fair minded biographer to restore his reputation.

It bought this as part of my research for a historical novel set in the reign of William Rufus. This is scholarly, well researched study of the king and the period which I found gave me all the information I was looking for. Because it followed themes rather than the chronology of events it did find it difficult to sort out what was happening when at times. I recommend this for anyone interested in the period.

This book will keep my husband quiet over Christmas. It is very detailed and looks interesting.

Arrived in excellent condition and very well priced.

Very good