Then came the question of a present of money to the king. Anselm brought five hundred marks, and, but for his counsellors and men of arms, who told him the archbishop ought to have given twice as much, William would have taken the gift gladly enough. As it was, to show his dissatisfaction, the money was returned. Anselm went boldly to the king and warned him that money freely given was better than a forced tribute. To this frank rebuke of the extortion practised by the king’s servants, William answered that he wanted neither his money, nor his preaching, nor his company. Anselm retired not altogether displeased at the refusal, for too many of the clergy bought church offices by these free gifts after they were instituted. In vain his friends urged him to seek the king’s favour by increasing his present, Anselm gave the five hundred marks to the poor, and shook his head at the idea of buying the king’s favour. But if Anselm declined to walk in the path of corruption to oblige the king, William was equally resolute to make the path of righteousness a hard road for the archbishop. In February, 1094, when the Red King was at Hastings waiting to cross to Normandy, Anselm appealed to him to sanction a council of bishops, whose decisions approved by the crown should have the authority of law. There were two things for such a council to do: (1) stop the open vice and profligacy which ravaged the land; (2) find abbots for the many monasteries then without heads. In Anselm’s words, the council was “to restore the Christian religion which was well-nigh dead in so many.” William treated the request with angry contempt, and when Anselm sent bishops to him asking why the king refused him friendship, an evasive answer was returned. “Give him money,” said the bishops again to Anselm, “if you want peace with him. Give him the five hundred marks, and promise him as much more, and you will have the royal friendship. This, it seems to us, is the only way out of the difficulty.” But it was not Anselm’s way. He would not even offer what had been rejected. “Besides, the greater part of it was spent on the poor.” William burst out into wrathful speech when he was told of this reply. “Never will I hold him as my father and archbishop, and ever shall I hate him with bitter hatred. I hated him much yesterday, and to-day I hate him still more.”