REBELLION AND EXILE
Down to the year 1077 the conduct of Robert Curthose towards the king
had, so far as we can see, been exemplary. Even William of Malmesbury,
while criticising his later insubordination, still pays tribute to
his obedient youth.[1] But difficulties were now at hand. Robert was
rapidly growing to manhood, and his character was unfolding. Reared
among his father’s men-at-arms, residing much about the court, enjoying
the privileged position and the social freedom of the king’s heir and
successor designate, he had developed into a warrior of distinguished
valor,[2] and into a chivalrous knight and courtier considerably in
advance of the rude society of the eleventh century.[3] Short and
thick-set, though probably the coarse full face and enormous paunch[4] of
later years had not yet developed; fluent of speech, affable in bearing,
and of a jovial disposition; generous to the point of prodigality,
giving to all who asked with unstinting hand, and lavish of promises
when more substantial rewards were lacking;[5] he had become the centre
of interest and attraction for the younger set about the Norman court,
and from some points of view a serious rival of his father. His position
was not unlike that of Henry Fitz Henry, the ‘Young King,’ who nearly
a century later created such grave problems for Henry II. He had long
borne the title of count and had enjoyed an official, or semi-official,
position about the court. He had long since been formally recognized as
his father’s heir and successor. The barons had twice done him homage
and sworn fealty to him as their lord and future master. He was titular
ruler of Maine. And if, as two charters seem to indicate, he was in some
way formally invested with the Norman duchy in 1077 or 1078,[6] the
resemblance between his position and that of the Young King after his
coronation in 1170 is even more striking.
Yet, with all these honors, Robert enjoyed no real power and exercised no
active part in affairs of government. It was not the way of the Conqueror
to part with any of his prerogatives prematurely; and if, for reasons
of state, he bestowed formal honors upon his son, it was still his firm
intention to remain sole master until the last within his own dominions.
But for the young prince to continue thus in idleness, surrounded by a
crowd of restless hangers-on of the younger nobility, was both costly and
dangerous. Robert not unnaturally wished for an independent establishment
and an income of his own;[7] but these the king was unwilling to
provide. Robert, therefore, became dissatisfied; and the ambitious
companions by whom he was surrounded were not slow to fan the embers of
his growing discontent.[8] Apparently it was in the year 1078, or late in
1077,[9] that the unfortunate quarrel broke out which culminated in the
siege of Gerberoy and a personal encounter between father and son upon
the field of battle.
Upon the cause of the disagreement we are fortunate in having abundant
testimony,[10] and it is possible to define the issue with some
exactness. Prompted by the rash counsels of his time-serving companions,
Robert went to the king and demanded that immediate charge of the
government of Normandy and of Maine be committed forthwith into his
hands. To Maine he based his claim upon his rights through Margaret,
his deceased fiancée, to Normandy upon the twice repeated grant which
his father had made to him, once before the Conquest, and afterwards at
Bonneville, when the assembled barons had done him homage and pledged
their fealty to him as their lord.[11]
If reliance may be placed upon the account of Ordericus Vitalis,[12]
the Conqueror took some time to reflect upon his son’s demands and
endeavored to reason with him about them.[13] He urged Robert to put
away the rash young men who had prompted him to such imprudence and to
give ear to wiser counsels. He explained that his demands were improper.
He, the king, held Normandy by hereditary right, and England by right
of conquest; and it would be preposterous to expect him to give them up
to another. If Robert would only be patient and show himself worthy, he
would receive all in due course, with the willing assent of the people
and with the blessing of God. Let him remember Absalom and what happened
to him, and beware lest he follow in the path of Rehoboam! But to all
these weighty arguments Robert turned a deaf ear, replying that he
had not come to hear sermons: he had heard such “ad nauseam” from the
grammarians. His determination was immovably fixed. He would no longer do
service to anyone in Normandy in the mean condition of a dependent. The
king’s resolution, however, was equally firm. Normandy, he declared, was
his native land, and he wished all to understand that so long as he lived
he would never let it slip from his grasp.[14] The argument thus came to
a deadlock; yet, apparently, there was no immediate break.[15] Relations
doubtless continued strained, but Robert bided his time, perhaps seeking
a more favorable opportunity for pressing his demands. At times he may
even have appeared reconciled; yet no lasting settlement was possible so
long as the cause of the discord remained.
The actual outbreak of open rebellion followed, it seems, directly
upon a family broil among the king’s sons; and Ordericus Vitalis, with
characteristic fondness for gossip, has not failed to relate the incident
in great detail.[16] The Conqueror, so the story runs, was preparing an
expedition against the Corbonnais and had stopped at Laigle in the house
of a certain Gontier, while Robert Curthose had found lodgings nearby
in the house of Roger of Caux. Meanwhile, Robert’s younger brothers,
William and Henry, had taken umbrage at his pretensions and at the rash
demands which he had made upon their father, and they were strongly
supporting the king against him. While in this frame of mind they paid
Robert a visit at his lodgings. Going into an upper room, they began
dicing ‘as soldiers will’; and presently—doubtless after there had been
drinking—they started a row and threw down water upon their host and
his companions who were on the floor below. Robert was not unnaturally
enraged at this insult, and with the support of his comrades[17] he
rushed in upon the offenders, and a wild scuffle ensued, which was only
terminated by the timely arrival of the king, who, upon hearing the
clamor, came in haste from his lodgings and put a stop to the quarrel by
his royal presence.[18]
Robert, however, remained sullen and offended; and that night,
accompanied by his intimates, he withdrew secretly from the royal forces
and departed. Riding straight for Rouen, he made the rash venture of
attempting to seize the castle by a surprise attack, an action which
seems almost incredible, except on the hypothesis that a conspiracy
with wide ramifications was already under way. However this may be, the
attack upon Rouen failed. Roger of Ivry, the king’s butler, who was
guarding the castle, got word of the impending stroke, set the defences
in order, and sent messengers in hot haste to warn the king of the
danger. William was furious at his son’s treason, and ordered a wholesale
arrest of the malcontents, thus spreading consternation among them and
breaking up their plans. Some were captured, but others escaped across
the frontier.[19]
The rising now spread rapidly among the king’s enemies on both sides of
the border. Hugh of Châteauneuf-en-Thymerais promptly opened the gates
of his castles at Châteauneuf, Sorel, and Rémalard to the fugitives,
and so furnished them with a secure base beyond the frontier from which
to make incursions into Normandy. Robert of Bellême also joined the
rebel cause. Perhaps, indeed, it was through his influence that Hugh of
Châteauneuf was persuaded to give succor to the rebels; for Hugh was his
brother-in-law, having married his sister Mabel. Ralph de Toeny, lord of
Conches, also joined the rebellion, and many others, among them doubtless
being Ivo and Alberic of Grandmesnil and Aimeric de Villeray.[20] The
border war which followed did not long remain a local matter. It was an
event fit to bring joy to all King William’s enemies; and it caused a
great commotion, we are told, not only in the immediate neighborhood of
the revolt, but also in distant parts among the French and Bretons and
the men of Maine and Anjou.[21]
The king, however, met the rebellion with his accustomed vigor and
decision. He confiscated the lands of the rebels and turned their rents
to the employment of mercenaries to be used against them. Apparently he
had been on his way to make war upon Rotrou of Mortagne in the Corbonnais
when his plans had been interrupted by the disgraceful brawl among
his sons at Laigle.[22] He now abandoned that enterprise, and, making
peace with Rotrou, took him and his troops into his own service. And
thus raising a considerable army, he laid siege to the rebels in their
stronghold at Rémalard.[23] But of the outcome of these operations we
have no certain knowledge. One of the insurgents at least, Aimeric de
Villeray, was slain, and his son Gulfer was so terrified by his father’s
tragic fate that he made peace with the king and remained thereafter
unshakably loyal.
We hear, too, vaguely of a ‘dapifer’ of the king of France who was
passing from castle to castle among the rebels.[24] What his business
was we know not; but it seems not unlikely that King Philip was already
negotiating with the insurgent leaders with a view to aiding and abetting
their enterprise against his too powerful Norman vassal.[25] Philip had
made peace with the Conqueror after the latter’s unsuccessful siege
of Dol in 1076,[26] but the friendship of the two kings had not been
lasting. Sound policy demanded that Philip spare no effort to curb
the overweening power of his great Norman feudatory; and William had,
therefore, to count upon his constant, if veiled, hostility.[27] The
rebellion of Robert Curthose and his followers was Philip’s opportunity;
and it seems not improbable that he looked upon the movement with favor
and gave it encouragement from its inception. Clearly he made no effort
to suppress it, though the fighting was going on within his own borders.
And, in any case, before the end of 1078 he had definitely taken Robert
Curthose under his protection and had assigned him the castle of Gerberoy
in the Beauvaisis, close to the Norman frontier.[28] There Robert was
received with his followers by royal castellans and promised every
possible aid and support.
But this evidently was some months, at least, after the outbreak of
Robert’s rebellion. As to his movements in the meantime, we hear little
more than uncertain rumors. The sources are silent concerning the
part which he played in the border warfare which centred around the
castles of Hugh of Châteauneuf. We have it on the express statement
of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ that Robert fled to his uncle, Robert
the Frisian, count of Flanders;[29] and in this the _Chronicle_ is
confirmed by Ordericus Vitalis, who adds that he also visited Odo, bishop
of Treves.[30] Other writers indicate simply that he withdrew into
France.[31] Ordericus indeed, represents him as wandering much farther,
and visiting noble kinsmen, “dukes, counts, and powerful townsmen
(_oppidani_) in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and Gascony,” wasting
his substance in dissolute living and reduced to poverty and beggary,
and to borrowing of foreign usurers.[32] But such wanderings, if they
actually occurred, it seems more natural to assign—since we are reduced
to conjecture—to Robert’s second exile.[33] One incident, however, which
concerns his mother, the queen, who died in 1083, must be assigned to
this period.
The singularly happy relations which existed between William and Matilda,
their mutual love, devotion, and confidence, are of course famous.
Once only during their long union were these happy relations seriously
disturbed.[34] For Matilda’s heart was touched by the distresses of her
son, and she did not sympathize with the stern justice of the Conqueror
in this domestic matter. Secretly she undertook to provide Robert out
of her own revenues with funds for the maintenance of a military force.
But the king soon detected her and interfered, declaring, in his wrath,
that he had learned the truth of the adage, “A faithless woman is her
husband’s bane.” He had loved her as his own soul and had intrusted her
with his treasures and with jurisdiction throughout all his dominions,
only to find her giving succor to enemies who were plotting against his
life. But undaunted by this outburst, the queen sought to justify herself
upon the ground of her great love for her eldest son. Though Robert were
dead and buried seven feet under the earth, she declared, she would
gladly die, if by so doing she could restore him to life. Respecting
the spirit of his proud consort, the king turned to vent his rage upon
Samson le Breton, the queen’s messenger, proposing to seize him and have
him blinded. But Samson received timely warning and managed to escape to
Saint-Évroul; and, at the queen’s request, Abbot Mainer received him into
the monastery. There he dwelt in security and led an exemplary life for
twenty-six years, no doubt well known to the chronicler of the house who
records his tale.[35]
Whatever be the truth about Robert’s wanderings and the vicissitudes
of his exile, in the end he returned to France and, as already noted,
gained the support of King Philip, and was established with his followers
in the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis. There a military force of
considerable proportions began to gather around him in response to his
lavish promises. Adventurers came from France; but in greater numbers
came the malcontents from Normandy. Many who hitherto had kept the peace
and had remained loyal to the king now deserted the royal cause and
went over to swell the ranks of the rebels.[36] King William was now
obliged to turn his attention to this hornet’s nest that was spreading
terror among the peaceful and defenceless population on his northeastern
frontier. Quartering troops in his strongholds opposite Gerberoy, he
endeavored to forestall the destructive raids which the insurgents were
making into his territory.[37] But, vexed that his enemies should seem
to dwell in security at a point so little removed from the borders of
Normandy, he determined to carry the war beyond the frontier; and, though
it was the inclement season, he assembled his forces and laid siege to
Gerberoy itself for some three weeks soon after Christmas (1078-79).[38]
The operations which followed were enlivened in the fashion of the day
by the frequent interchange of challenges and by numerous encounters
between selected bodies of knights from each side,[39] until finally the
besieged garrison brought the contest to an issue by a successful sortie
and a pitched battle in the open before the castle.[40] In the general
mêlée which ensued the Conqueror and Robert met in single combat, and the
elderly king proved no match for his vigorous and skilful antagonist.
He was wounded in the hand or arm, and his horse was shot from under
him.[41] According to one, and perhaps the better, account, Tokig son of
Wigod, a faithful Englishman, hurried to the king with another mount,
only to be himself slain a moment later by a shaft from a crossbow.[42]
According to another account, however, at the supreme moment of his
antagonist’s distress, Robert recognized his father’s voice—armor had
hitherto disguised the king—and, leaping down from his own horse, he
directed him to mount and allowed him to ride away.[43] Many of the
king’s men were slain, others were captured, and many more were wounded,
among them being Robert’s younger brother, William Rufus.[44] The
discomfiture of the royal forces was complete, and they fled from the
field.[45]
This unexpected defeat before the walls of Gerberoy was a deep
humiliation to the Conqueror. William of Malmesbury speaks of it as the
one outstanding misfortune of his long and brilliant career.[46] In the
bitterness of his shame and of his indignation against the son who had
not only rebelled against him, but had actually met him on the field of
battle and wounded and unhorsed him, William is said to have laid on
Robert a terrible curse, vowing to disinherit him forever.[47] Though the
curse was soon lifted and grudging forgiveness granted, one might easily
believe from the misfortunes of Robert’s later years that the baneful
influence of this paternal malediction followed him to his grave more
than half a century later beneath the pavement stones of Gloucester abbey.
The part played by the king of France in the border war around Gerberoy
is puzzling. The narrative sources state specifically that King
Philip had given his support to Robert and the Norman rebels and had
deliberately established them at Gerberoy in order that they might harry
the Norman border. Yet we have a charter of unquestioned validity by King
Philip in favor of the church of Saint-Quentin of Beauvais, which bears
the signatures of both William and Philip and a dating clause which
reveals the fact that it was drawn up at the siege which the two kings
were conducting about Gerberoy in 1079.[48] The evidence is conclusive,
therefore, that, though the French king had previously supported Robert
and had actually established him at Gerberoy, he nevertheless joined
with the Conqueror early in 1079 in besieging the Norman rebels in his
own stronghold.[49] How King William had wrought this change of mind
in his jealous overlord we have no means of knowing. But it is evident
that, while meeting his son’s rebellion by force of arms, he had not been
forgetful of his mastery of the diplomatic art.
The presence of so great an ally, however, could not disguise the fact
of the Conqueror’s defeat; and before the struggle was allowed to go to
further extremes, influences were brought to bear upon the king which
led to a reconciliation. After his humiliating discomfiture William had
retired to Rouen.[50] Robert is said to have gone to Flanders,[51] though
this seems hardly likely in view of his decisive victory over the royal
forces. In any case, intermediaries now began to pass back and forth
between them. Robert was very willing to make peace and be reconciled
with his father. The barons, too, had little mind for a continuation of
this kind of warfare. Robert’s rebellion had divided many a family, and
it was irksome to the nobles to have to fight against “sons, brothers,
and kinsmen.” Accordingly, Roger of Montgomery, Hugh of Gournay, Hugh of
Grandmesnil, and Roger of Beaumont and his sons Robert and Henry went to
the king and besought him to be reconciled with his son. They explained
that Robert had been led astray by the evil counsels of depraved
youth—were the ‘depraved youth’ in question the ‘sons and brothers’ of
our respectable negotiators?—that he now repented of his errors and
acknowledged his fault and humbly implored the royal clemency. The king
at first remained obdurate and complained bitterly against his son. His
conduct, he declared, had been infamous. He had stirred up civil war
and led away the very flower of the young nobility. He had also brought
in the foreign enemy; and, had it been in his power, he would have armed
the whole human race against his father! The barons, however, persisted
in their efforts. Conferences were renewed. Bishops and other men of
religion, among them St. Simon of Crépy,[52] an old friend and companion
of the Conqueror, intervened to soften the king’s heart. The queen, too,
and ambassadors from the king of France, and neighboring nobles who had
entered the Conqueror’s service all added their solicitations. And “at
last the stern prince, giving way to the entreaties of so many persons
of rank, and moved also by natural affection, was reconciled with his
son and those who had been leagued with him.” With the consent of the
assembled barons he renewed to Robert the grant of the succession to
Normandy after his death, upon the same conditions as he had granted it
on a former occasion at Bonneville.[53]
It is not clear over how long a period the foregoing negotiations had
been drawn out, though it is not improbable that they were continued
into the spring of 1080;[54] for on 8 May of that year Gregory VII
wrote Robert a letter of fatherly counsel in which he referred to the
reconciliation as good news which had but recently reached him. The Pope
rejoiced that Robert had acquiesced in his father’s wishes and put away
the society of base companions; while at the same time he solemnly warned
him against a return to his evil courses in the future.[55]
Whether or not the Pope’s admonition had anything to do with it, Robert
seems, for a time at least, to have made an earnest effort to acquiesce
in his father’s wishes. The reconciliation was, so far as can be seen,
complete and cordial. Again Robert’s name begins to appear frequently in
the charters of the period, indicating a full and friendly coöperation
with his parents and his brothers.[56] The king, too, seems so far to
have had a change of heart as to be willing for the first time in his
life to intrust his son with important enterprises.
In the late summer of 1079, King Malcolm of Scotland had taken advantage
of the Conqueror’s preoccupation with his continental dominions to harry
Northumberland as far south as the Tyne,[57] and King William had been
obliged for the moment to forego his vengeance. But in the late summer or
autumn of 1080 he crossed over to England with Robert,[58] and prepared
to square accounts with his Scottish adversary. Assembling a large force,
which included Abbot Adelelm of Abingdon and a considerable number of
the great barons of England, he placed Robert in command and sent him
northward against the Scottish raider.[59] Advancing into Lothian,[60]
Robert met Malcolm at Eccles,[61] but found him in no mood for fighting.
Ready enough for raids and plundering when the English armies were at a
safe distance, the Scottish king had no desire for the test of a decisive
engagement. Unless the language of the Abingdon chronicle is misleading,
he again recognized the English suzerainty over his kingdom and gave
hostages for his good faith.[62] Thus enjoying an easy triumph, Robert
turned back southward. Laying the foundations of ‘New Castle’ upon the
Tyne[63] as he passed, he came again to his father and was duly rewarded
for his achievement.[64]
Charters indicate that Robert remained in England throughout the
following winter and spring;[65] but before the end of 1081 important
events had taken place on the borders of Maine which called both the king
and his son back in haste to the Continent.
Norman rule was always unpopular in Maine, and it created grave problems.
As has already been explained, it had been temporarily overthrown during
the critical years which followed the Norman conquest of England, and
it had been reëstablished only by force of arms in 1073.[66] But the
restoration of Norman domination in Maine was a serious check to the
ambition of Fulk le Réchin, count of Anjou, who seized every opportunity
to cause embarrassment to his Norman rival. Thus, in the autumn of
1076,[67] he assisted the beleaguered garrison at Dol and was at least
in part responsible for the Conqueror’s discomfiture.[68] So, too, he
made repeated attacks upon John of La Flèche, one of the most powerful
supporters of the Norman interest in Maine.[69] Though the chronology
and the details of these events are exceedingly obscure, there is reason
to believe that Fulk’s movements were in some way connected with the
rebellion of Robert Curthose.[70] And while it is impossible to be
dogmatic, it is perhaps not a very hazardous conjecture that upon the
outbreak of Robert’s rebellion, late in 1077, or in 1078, Fulk seized the
opportunity of the king’s embarrassment and preoccupation on the eastern
Norman frontier to launch an expedition against his hated enemy, John of
La Flèche.[71] But Fulk’s hopes were sadly disappointed; for John of La
Flèche learned of the impending stroke in time to obtain reënforcements
from Normandy,[72] and Fulk was obliged to retire, severely wounded,
from the siege.[73] It was probably after these events that a truce
was concluded between King William and Count Fulk at an unidentified
place called “castellum Vallium,”[74] a truce which appears to have
relieved the Conqueror from further difficulties in Maine until after his
reconciliation with Robert Curthose. In 1081, however, taking advantage
of the absence of the king and Robert in England, Fulk returned to the
attack upon Maine; and this time his efforts seem to have met with more
success. Again laying siege to La Flèche, he took it and burned it.[75]
It was apparently this reverse sustained by the Norman supporters
in Maine which caused the king and Robert to hasten back from
England in 1081. Levying a great army—sixty thousand, according to
Ordericus![76]—they hastened towards La Flèche to meet the victorious
Angevins. But when the hostile armies were drawn up facing each other
and the battle was about to begin,[77] an unnamed cardinal priest[78]
and certain monks interposed their friendly offices in the interest of
peace. William of Évreux and Roger of Montgomery ably seconded their
efforts, and after much negotiation terms were finally agreed upon in
the treaty of La Bruère or Blanchelande (1081). Fulk abandoned his
pretensions to direct rule in Maine and recognized the rights of Robert
Curthose. Robert, on the other hand, recognized the Angevin overlordship
of Maine and formally did homage to Fulk for the fief. Further, a general
amnesty was extended to the baronage on both sides. John of La Flèche
and other Angevin nobles who had been fighting in the Norman interest
were reconciled with Fulk, and the Manceaux who had supported the Angevin
cause were received back into the good graces of the king.[79] Finally,
there probably was an interchange of hostages as an assurance of good
faith. The so-called Annals of Renaud, at any rate, assert that the
king’s half-brother and nephew, Robert of Mortain and his son, and many
others were given as hostages to Fulk.[80]
With the conclusion of peace in 1081 the relations between the Conqueror
and the count of Anjou with regard to Maine entered upon a happier
era,[81] though difficulties between them were by no means at an end.
The death of Arnold, bishop of Le Mans, for example, on 29 November
1081, gave rise to a long dispute as to the right of patronage over the
see. Fulk strongly opposed Hoël, the Norman candidate, and it was not
until 21 April 1085 that Hoël was finally consecrated by Archbishop
William at Rouen and the Norman rights over the see of Le Mans definitely
vindicated.[82] During this same period King William had also to contend
with a very troublesome local insurrection among the Manceaux. Under the
leadership of Hubert, _vicomte_ of Maine, the rebels installed themselves
in the impregnable fortress of Sainte-Suzanne and maintained themselves
there for several years against all the king’s efforts to dislodge them.
At last, in 1085, or early in 1086, he practically acknowledged his
defeat, and received Hubert, the leader of the rebels, back into his
favor.[83]
If Robert Curthose played any active part in the dispute with Count Fulk
as to the right of patronage over the see of Le Mans, or in the siege of
Sainte-Suzanne, or, indeed, if he had any actual share in the government
of Maine during this period, the record of it has not been preserved.
Whatever intention the king may have had of taking his son into a closer
coöperation in the management of his affairs was evidently short-lived,
and he continued to keep the exercise of all authority directly in his
own hands.
Such a policy, however, was fatal to the good understanding that had been
established after the siege of Gerberoy, and inevitably led to further
difficulties. Indeed, it is altogether possible that Robert was again
in exile before the end of 1083. After the peace of La Bruère he can be
traced in a number of charters of 1082 and 1083. On 24 June 1082, he was
at Oissel in Normandy.[84] Once in the same year he was at Downton in
England.[85] He was certainly back in Normandy in association with the
king and queen and William Rufus as late as 18 July 1083.[86] And then he
disappears from view until after the Conqueror’s death in 1087. Evidently
another bitter quarrel had intervened and been followed by a second
banishment.
It seems impossible from the confused narrative of Ordericus Vitalis
and the meagre notices of other chroniclers to disentangle the details
of this new controversy. It is clear that the points at issue had
not changed materially since the earlier difficulties.[87] Robert,
long since formally recognized as the Conqueror’s heir and successor
designate, to whom the baronage had repeatedly done homage, could
not remain content with the wholly subordinate position and with the
limitations which the king imposed upon him. His youth, prospects, and
affable manners, his generosity and unrestrained social propensities won
him a numerous following among the younger nobility; and these ambitious
companions in turn spurred him on to make importunate demands upon his
father for larger powers and enjoyments. The king, on the other hand,
could not bring himself to make the desired concessions. It was no part
of the Conqueror’s nature to share his powers or prerogatives with
anyone. Doubtless there was blame on both sides. Even Ordericus Vitalis
hardly justifies the king. Robert, he says, refused to be obedient,
and the king covered him with reproaches publicly.[88] And so the old
controversy was renewed, and Robert again withdrew from Normandy. Knight
errant that he was, he set out to seek his fortune in foreign parts—like
Polynices the Theban in search of his Adrastus![89]
As to the period of these wanderings, we have no indication beyond the
negative evidence of the charters, in which Robert does not appear after
1083. It may, perhaps, be conjectured that the death of the queen (2
November 1083), who had befriended him during his earlier difficulties
with his father, had removed the support which made possible his
continued residence at the court.[90]
Robert’s second exile was evidently longer than the first,[91] and
less filled with active warfare on the frontiers of Normandy. It
seems natural, therefore, to suppose that the distant wanderings and
vicissitudes of which we hear, ‘in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and
Gascony,’[92] should be assigned to this period. Of more value, perhaps,
than the vague indications of Ordericus Vitalis, and certainly of greater
interest, if true, is the statement of William of Malmesbury that Robert
made his way to Italy and sought the hand of the greatest heiress of
the age, the famous Countess Matilda of Tuscany, desiring thus to gain
support against his father. In this ambitious project, however, the
courtly exile was doomed to disappointment, for Matilda rejected his
proposal.[93]
Failing of his quest in Italy, Robert seems to have returned to France,
and to the satisfaction of his desires among baser associates. Long
banishment and vagabondage had brought on deterioration of character and
led him into habits of loose living[94] from which the Conqueror was
notably free. At some time during his long exile, he became the father of
several illegitimate children. Ordericus Vitalis puts the story as baldly
as possible, asserting that he became enamored of the handsome concubine
of an aged priest somewhere on the borders of France and had two sons
by her.[95] Both were destined to a tragic death before their father.
One of them, Richard, fell a victim to the evil spell which lay upon the
New Forest, being accidentally slain by an arrow while hunting there in
the year 1100.[96] The other, William, after his father’s final defeat
at Tinchebray in 1106, went to Jerusalem and died fighting in the holy
wars.[97] Robert also had an illegitimate daughter, who lived to become
the wife of Helias of Saint-Saëns, most sturdy and loyal of all the
supporters of Robert Curthose in the victorious days of Henry I.[98]
Whatever the field of Robert’s obscure wanderings and whatever the
vicissitudes through which he passed, he returned eventually to France,
where he enjoyed the friendship and support of King Philip.[99] The
king of France had momentarily fought upon the side of the Conqueror at
Gerberoy in 1079; but such an alliance was unnatural and could not last.
Hostility between the two kings was inevitable; and almost the last act
of the Conqueror’s life was a revival of the ancient feud and an attempt
to take vengeance upon the hated overlord who had given asylum and succor
to his rebellious son.[100]
The struggle this time raged over the debatable ground of the Vexin. In
the late summer of 1087 King William assembled his forces and appeared
suddenly before the gates of Mantes. The inhabitants and the garrison,
scattered about the countryside, were taken completely by surprise;
and as they fled in wild confusion back within the walls, the king and
his men rushed in after them, plundered the town, and burned it to the
ground.[101]
But from that day of vengeance and destruction the Conqueror returned
to Rouen a dying man. There, lingering for some weeks at the priory of
Saint-Gervais outside the city, he made his final earthly dispositions.
Robert, his undutiful son, was still in France and at war against
him.[102] Whether from conviction of his incompetence or from resentment
at his treason, the king had arrived at the unalterable decision that
Robert, his firstborn, should not succeed him in England. For that honor
he recommended William Rufus, his second son. Indeed, the dying king, it
seems, would gladly have disinherited his eldest son altogether.[103] But
there were grave difficulties in the way of such a course. Robert had
been formally and repeatedly designated as his heir and successor.[104]
In the last awful moments of his earthly existence the Conqueror
recognized that he did not hold the English kingdom by hereditary
right; he had received it through the favor of God and victorious
battle with Harold.[105] Robert, his heir, therefore—so he is said to
have reasoned—had no claim upon England. But Normandy he had definitely
conceded to him; and Robert had received the homage of the baronage. The
grant thus made and ratified he could not annul.[106] Moreover, there
were men of weight and influence present at the royal bedside to plead
the exile’s cause. Fearing lest their lord should die with wrath in
his heart against the son who had injured him so deeply, the assembled
prelates and barons, Archbishop William being their spokesman, endeavored
to turn the king’s heart into the way of forgiveness. At first he was
bitter and seemed to be recounting to himself the manifold injuries that
Robert had done him; he had sinned against him grievously and brought
down his gray hairs to the grave. But finally, yielding to persuasion and
making the supreme effort of self-conquest, the king called on God and
the assembled magnates to witness that he forgave Robert all his offences
and renewed to him the grant of Normandy[107] and Maine.[108] A messenger
was despatched to France to bear to Robert the tidings of paternal
forgiveness and of his succession to the duchy.[109] And with these
and other final dispositions, William the Conqueror ended his career
upon earth (9 September 1087). His undutiful and rebellious son was not
present at the royal bedside at the end,[110] nor later at the burial in
the church of St. Stephen at Caen.[111]
FOOTNOTES
[1] “Inter bellicas patris alas excrevit primaevo tirocinio, parenti
morem in omnibus gerens.” _G. R._, ii, p. 459.
[2] Practically all the sources bear witness to Robert’s courage and
special prowess in arms. E.g., Ordericus, ii, p. 295; iii, p. 262;
William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 459-460, 463; _Interpolations
de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 267, 284; Guibert of
Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 149. For the exaggerations to which this
was carried in later tradition see _infra_, pp. 190-197.
[3] These qualities will become more evident in the sequel. Stenton
characterizes Robert as “a gross anticipation of the chivalrous knight of
later times.” _William the Conqueror_, p. 349.
[4] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 459; Ordericus, ii, p. 295;
iii, p. 262.
[5] The inimitable characterization of Ordericus Vitalis is worthy of
reproduction in full. “Omnes ducem Rodbertum mollem esse desidemque
cognoscebant… Erat quippe idem dux audax et validus, multaque laude
dignus; eloquio facundus, sed in regimine sui suorumque inconsideratus,
in erogando prodigus, in promittendo diffusus, ad mentiendum levis et
incautus, misericors supplicibus, ad iustitiam super iniquo faciendam
mollis et mansuetus, in definitione mutabilis, in conversatione omnibus
nimis blandus et tractabilis, ideoque perversis et insipientibus
despicabilis; corpore autem brevis et grossus, ideoque Brevis Ocrea a
patre est cognominatus. Ipse cunctis placere studebat, cunctisque quod
petebant aut dabat, aut promittebat, vel concedebat. Prodigus, dominium
patrum suorum quotidie imminuebat, insipienter tribuens unicuique quod
petebat, et ipse pauperescebat, unde alios contra se roborabat.” _Ibid._,
iii, pp. 262-263. Cf. Ralph of Caen in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 616, 642;
William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 459-463.
[6] Two charters dated 24 May 1096 at Bayeux, ‘xviiii. anno principatus
domni Roberti Willelmi regis Anglorum filii ducis Normannie,’ the one by
Robert himself and the other by Odo of Bayeux and attested by Robert.
Haskins, pp. 66-67, nos. 3, 4, and n. 19. The style here employed of
dating the reign from 1077-78 is unusual. It is ordinarily dated from
Robert’s actual accession to the duchy upon the death of the Conqueror in
1087. Cf., e.g., Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 308, 310.
[7] Ordericus Vitalis makes Robert say: “Quid ergo faciam, vel quid
meis clientibus tribuam?… Mercenarius tuus semper esse nolo. Aliquando
rem familiarem volo habere, ut mihi famulantibus digna possim stipendia
retribuere.” Ordericus, ii, p. 378. Cf. Achille Luchaire, _La société
française au temps de Philippe-Auguste_ (Paris, 1909), pp. 280-282, where
it is pointed out that such demands and the quarrels and the open warfare
which frequently resulted from them were perfectly characteristic of the
feudal age.
[8] Ordericus, ii, pp. 294, 377 ff.; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii,
p. 459; Registers of Gregory VII, bk. vii, no. 27, in _Bibliotheca Rerum
Germanicarum_, ed. Philipp Jaffé (Berlin, 1864-73), ii, pp. 420-421.
[9] The date at which the quarrel began is uncertain. It must have been
after 13 September 1077, when Robert was present with his parents and
William Rufus at the dedication of Saint-Étienne at Caen. _Supra_, p.
16. The siege of Gerberoy, which marks its termination, took place in
December and January 1078-79. _Infra_, n. 38.
[10] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 316-317, 459-460; _A.-S.C.,
a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 12; _Chronicon Monasterii de
Hyda_, in _Liber Monasterii de Hyda_, ed. Edward Edwards (London, 1866),
p. 297; Ordericus, ii, pp. 294-295, 377 ff.; _Interpolations de Robert de
Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268; Registers of Gregory VII, bk.
vii, no. 27, in Jaffé, _Bibliotheca_, ii, pp. 420-421.
[11] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p.
268; cf. Ordericus, ii, pp. 294-295, 389.
[12] Ordericus Vitalis is the only early writer who treats in detail
of the quarrels between Robert and the Conqueror. He discusses them at
length in two places (ii, pp. 294-298, 377-390), but unfortunately his
accounts are confused and very difficult to disentangle. There clearly
were two quarrels and two periods during which Robert was in exile.
Ordericus himself (ii, p. 390) is specific with regard to this; and we
know independently that the first quarrel—followed by a relatively short
period of exile—ended in the reconciliation after the siege of Gerberoy
(1079) and that Robert was again in exile at the time of the Conqueror’s
death (1087). Pretty clearly the second exile was for a longer period
than the first. But the two accounts of Ordericus do not deal each with
one of these quarrels. Rather they both purport to relate to the earlier
quarrel and to the banishment which followed it. Yet it is obvious that
Ordericus, lacking contemporary knowledge of the events, has confused
the two episodes and has related incidents of the latter as if they
belonged to the former. For example (ii, p. 381), he represents Robert as
wandering in exile for a period of five years. Clearly this was not after
the first quarrel, to which he relates it, since that could have been
followed by no such extended banishment. In the narrative detail which
follows I have attempted to disentangle the accounts of Ordericus Vitalis
conjecturally, striving to preserve something of the vivacity of style
of the original, without supposing that I have been able to arrive at
rigorous historical accuracy. Ordericus’s own narrative is obviously in a
high degree a work of imagination.
[13] Ordericus, ii, pp. 294-295.
[14] _Ibid._, pp. 378-380.
[15] _Ibid._, pp. 294-295.
[16] Ordericus, ii, pp. 295-296.
[17] Ivo and Alberic of Grandmesnil are mentioned by name.
[18] Ordericus, ii, pp. 295-296.
[19] Ordericus, ii, p. 296.
[20] _Ibid._, pp. 296-298. Elsewhere Ordericus gives another list as
follows: Robert of Bellême, William of Breteuil, Roger de Bienfaite,
Robert Mowbray, William de Moulins, and William de Rupierre. _Ibid._,
pp. 380-381. Robert of Bellême is the only one appearing in both lists,
and it would be rash to assume that all the foregoing supported Robert
Curthose against the king in his first rebellion. But if Ordericus
Vitalis is to be trusted, they were all at one time or another associated
in Robert’s treason.
[21] _Ibid._, p. 297.
[22] _Ibid._, p. 295; cf. p. 297: “cum Rotrone Mauritaniensi comite pacem
fecit.”
[23] Ordericus, ii, pp. 297-298.
[24] _Ibid._, p. 298. Freeman’s interpretation of this passage regarding
Aimeric de Villeray and the dapifer of the king of France, which differs
greatly from that which I have given, appears to be based upon a careless
and absolutely wrong reading of the Latin text. _Norman Conquest_, iv,
pp. 639-640.
[25] This hypothesis would help to explain the vague statement of
Ordericus Vitalis: “Galli et Britones, Cenomanni et Andegavenses, aliique
populi fluctuabant, et quem merito sequi deberent ignorabant.” Ordericus,
ii, p. 297.
[26] _A.-S. C., a._ 1077: “This year a peace was made between the king of
France and William king of England, but it lasted only a little while.”
Henry of Huntingdon, _Historia Anglorum_, ed. Thomas Arnold (London,
1879), p. 206; cf. Fliche, _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, p. 274.
[27] “Philippum … semper infidum habuit, quod scilicet ille tantam
gloriam viro invideret quem et patris sui et suum hominem esse
constaret.” William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 316.
[28] Ordericus, ii, p. 386.
[29] _A._ 1079.
[30] Ordericus, ii, p. 381. Bishop Odo died 11 November 1078. Ordericus
is in error in saying that he was the brother of Robert the Frisian.
[31] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 12: “Franciam adiit, et auxilio
Philippi regis in Normannia magnam frequenter praedam agebat, villas
comburebat, homines perimebat”; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 297.
[32] Ordericus, ii, pp. 381-382.
[33] _Supra_, n. 12.
[34] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 331: “aliquantula simultas
inter eos innata extremis annis fuerit pro Roberto filio, cui mater
militarem manum ex fisci redditibus sufficere dicebatur”; Ordericus (ii,
pp. 382-383) is much more detailed.
[35] Ordericus, ii, pp. 382-383.
[36] _Ibid._, pp. 386-387.
[37] Ordericus, ii, pp. 386-387; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 12-13.
[38] The _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ seems to place the siege at the end
of 1079, but this is an error. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079. The siege took
place after Christmas 1078 and in the early weeks of 1079. Ordericus,
ii, p. 387. This is made certain by a charter of Philip I in favor of
Saint-Quentin of Beauvais, dated “in obsidione … circa Gerborredum, anno
… millesimo septuagesimo viiiiⁿᵒ anno vero regni Philippi regis Francorum
ixⁿᵒ xᵐᵒ.” _Recueil des actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ, roi de France_, ed.
Maurice Prou (Paris, 1908), no. 94. Freeman, though having this charter
in hand, still dates the siege in 1079-80. _Norman Conquest_, iv, pp.
642-643. But Prou has shown conclusively that Freeman is in error and
that the correct date is unquestionably January 1079. _Op. cit._, p. 242,
n. 1.
[39] Ordericus, ii, pp. 387-388.
[40] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13.
[41] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13; William of
Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 317; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 206. According
to the _Chronicle_ the king was wounded in the hand, according to
Florence in the arm. The _Chronicon_ in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 279, is still
different, stating that the king was wounded in the foot by an arrow.
[42] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079. Freeman with patriotic pride makes much of
this exploit of Tokig the Englishman; but there appears to be no valid
reason for accepting, as Freeman does, this version from the _Chronicle_
and rejecting the different version of Florence of Worcester. _Norman
Conquest_, iv, pp. 643-644; cf. pp. 850-852.
[43] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13.
[44] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 317; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079;
Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 206-207.
[45] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13.
[46] _G. R._, ii, p. 317.
[47] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 207: “Maledixit autem rex Roberto filio
suo”; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 297: “Cumque sanguinem defluere
cerneret, terribiliter imprecatus est ne unquam Robertus filius suus
haereditatis suae iura perciperet”; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales
Monastici_, ii, p. 32; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 460.
[48] Prou, _Actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ_, no. 94.
[49] Friendly relations between the Conqueror and Philip are implied in
the statement of Ordericus (ii, p. 390) that the king of France sent
ambassadors to urge a reconciliation between William and Robert. _Infra_,
p. 29.
[50] Ordericus, ii, p. 388.
[51] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079.
[52] _Vita Beati Simonis Comitis Crespeiensis Auctore Synchrono_,
in Migne, clvi, col. 1219. We have here chronological data of some
importance. St. Simon was present at Compiègne at the translation of the
Holy Shroud from its ivory casket to the magnificent golden reliquary
which Queen Matilda had presented to the church of Saint-Corneille; and
on the next day (_in crastino itaque solemnitate peracta_) he proceeded
to Normandy, where he acted as mediator between the Conqueror and his
rebellious son. A charter by Philip I informs us that the translation
of the Holy Shroud at Compiègne took place on the fourth Sunday of
Lent. Prou, _Actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ_, no. 126. St. Simon, therefore,
left Compiègne for Normandy on the Monday after Midlent. The year,
however, remains in doubt. Presumably it was 1079 or 1080, probably the
latter. Philip’s charter (dated 1092) refers to the translation only
incidently and gives no information as to the year in which it occurred.
Ordericus Vitalis (ii, p. 389) indicates that the peace negotiations
were protracted: “Frequenti colloquio Normannici proceres regem allocuti
sunt.” It cannot certainly be said that the reconciliation had been
consummated earlier than Easter (12 April) 1080, on which date Robert
joined with the king in the attestation of a charter. Davis, _Regesta_,
no. 123. Gregory VII, writing on 8 May 1080, speaks of it as a recent
event. _Infra_, n. 55. Émile Morel, editor of _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de
Saint-Corneille de Compiègne_ (Montdidier, 1904-09), i, p. 53, says that
the translation of the relic took place on 3 April 1082, but he cites no
authority, and I have been able to find none. Jean Pillet says: “Il est
constant par des manuscrits qui parlent de cette translation, qu’elle a
été faite … en 1081.” _Histoire du château et de la ville de Gerberoy_
(Rouen, 1679), p. 85. But he does not indicate where these ‘manuscripts’
are to be found, and his method of dealing with chronological problems is
so arbitrary as to inspire little confidence.
[53] Ordericus, ii, pp. 388-390.
[54] _Supra_, n. 52. It may also be noted that the raid of King Malcolm,
though it occurred in 1079, did not cause the king to go to England until
1080. _Infra_, p. 31.
[55] Registers of Gregory VII, bk. vii, no. 27, in Jaffé, _Bibliotheca_,
ii, pp. 420-421. The letter is of more than passing interest, since it
throws much light upon the matters which had been in controversy and
is strongly confirmatory of the narrative sources. “Insuper monemus et
paterne precamur, ut menti tuae semper sit infixum, quam forti manu,
quam divulgata gloria, quicquid pater tuus possideat, ab ore inimicorum
extraxerit; sciens tamen, se non in perpetuum vivere, sed ad hoc tam
viriliter insistere, ut eredi alicui sua dimitteret. Caveas ergo, fili
dilectissime, admonemus, ne abhinc pravorum consiliis adquiescas,
quibus patrem offendas et matrem contristeris… Pravorum consilia ex
officio nostro praecipimus penitus dimittas, patris voluntati in omnibus
adquiescas. Data Rome 8 idus Maii, indictione 3.”
It may also be noted that on the same day Gregory wrote letters of
courtesy to William and Matilda. But in both he confined himself to
generalities and said nothing of consequence, tactfully avoiding all
reference to Robert or to the recent family discord. _Ibid._, nos. 25, 26.
[56] E.g., 1080, April 12, [Rouen?] (Davis, _Regesta_, no. 123); 1080,
July 14, Caen (_ibid._, no. 125); 1080, [presumably in Normandy]
(_ibid._, nos. 126, 127); 1081, February, [London] (_ibid._, no. 135);
[1078-83, perhaps 1081], February 2, Salisbury (_Historia et Cartularium
Monasterii S. Petri Gloucestriae_, ed. W. H. Hart, London, 1863-67, i,
no. 411); 1081, Winchester (Davis, _Regesta_, no. 140); 1082, June 24,
Oissel (_ibid._, nos. 145, 146); 1082, Downton (_ibid._, no. 147); 1082
(_ibid._, nos. 149, 150); [c. 1082] (_ibid._, no. 158); 1083, July 18
(_ibid._, no. 182); 1083 (_Chartes de S.-Julien de Tours_, no. 37);
[1079-82] (Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 168-173); cf. _ibid._, 165, 175, 183a.
[57] _A.-S.C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13.
[58] Presumably they went over together, though we have no record of
their actual crossing. They were still at Caen in Normandy 14 July 1080.
Davis, _Regesta_, no. 125.
[59] _Chronicon Monasterii de Abingdon_, ed. Joseph Stevenson (London,
1858), ii, p. 9; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 211.
[60] _Chronicon de Abingdon_, ii, p. 9.
[61] Simeon, _H. R._, p. 211.
[62] “Proinde ut regno Angliae principatus Scotiae subactus foret,
obsides tribuit.” _Chronicon de Abingdon_, pp. 9-10. Simeon of Durham
says rather contemptuously that Robert returned from Eccles “nullo
confecto negotio.” _H. R._, p. 211. But this statement is hardly
inconsistent with the Abingdon account. A Durham writer, thirsting for
vengeance, might very well use it in spite of the results accomplished
by Robert’s peaceful negotiations. William of Malmesbury uses very
similar language of the expedition of William Rufus eleven years
later: “Statimque primo contra Walenses, post in Scottos expeditionem
movens, nihil magnificentia sua dignum exhibuit.” _G. R._, ii, p. 365.
The Abingdon account is circumstantial, and the presence of the abbot
indicates a sure source of information, though perhaps a biassed one.
[63] Simeon, _H. R._, p. 211.
[64] _Chronicon de Abingdon_, ii, p. 10.
[65] Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 135, 140; cf. _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri
Gloucestriae_, i, no. 411, a charter of 1078-83, perhaps of 1081.
[66] _Supra_, p. 14.
[67] On the date (September-October 1076) see Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 182;
Prou, _Actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ_, nos. 83, 84; _Annales dites de Renaud_, in
_Recueil d’annales angevines et vendômoises_, ed. Louis Halphen (Paris,
1903), p. 88.
[68] _Ibid._ On the Norman siege of Dol in general see Fliche, _Philippe
Iᵉʳ_, pp. 271-272.
[69] Ordericus, ii, p. 256.
[70] “Turbulentis tempestatibus, quas a Cenomannensibus et Normannis
permotas esse diximus, fomes (ut ferunt) et causa fuit Rodbertus regis
filius.” _Ibid._, p. 294; cf. p. 297.
[71] Halphen, relying upon the _Annales de Saint-Aubin_, has assigned
Fulk’s first attack upon La Flèche to 1076, suggesting that Fulk launched
it while the Conqueror was engaged in the north at the siege of Dol.
_Anjou_, pp. 182-183. These conclusions, however, seem too dogmatic.
There is no evidence which indicates a connection between the attack
upon La Flèche and the king’s Breton enterprise; and it seems hardly
likely that Fulk would have entered upon an undertaking against La Flèche
which proved beyond his powers, while he was also operating against
the Conqueror in Brittany. Further, the date 1076 from the _Annales
de Saint-Aubin_ (Halphen, _Annales_, p. 5) is not to be relied upon:
because (1) the numeral “mlxxvi” is entered twice in the MS., the entry
concerning La Flèche being the second of the two, and no such repetition
appears elsewhere in these annals. We are, therefore, forewarned of a
scribal error. And (2) the probability of such an error is made stronger
by the fact that MSS. C, A, and B all read “mlxxvii,” while the _Annales
de Saint-Florent_ (_ibid._, p. 119) read “mlxxviii.” Having no other
chronological data than are furnished by these meagre and uncertain
annals, it is impossible to fix the date of the first attack upon La
Flèche. It may have taken place in 1076, 1077, or 1078. On the whole, one
of the later dates seems more probable than 1076, in view of the vague
indications of some connection with Robert’s rebellion (_supra_, n. 70),
and in view of the fact that Fulk was involved in Breton affairs in 1076.
[72] Ordericus, ii, p. 256. Ordericus says that Fulk had the support
of Hoël, duke of Brittany; but his narrative is confused—he apparently
puts together the first and second sieges of La Flèche and treats them
as one—and it is impossible to say whether Breton aid was given during
Fulk’s first or second expedition.
[73] “Blessé grièvement à la jambe, à la suite d’un accident de cheval,
et quittant le siège de la Flèche pour se faire transporter par eau à
Angers.” Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 311, no. 233—from an eighteenth century
copy of an undated notice in the cartulary of Saint-Nicolas of Angers.
[74] “Eo tempore quo Willelmus rex Anglorum cum Fulcone Andegavensi
comite iuxta castellum Vallium treviam accepit.” _Cartulaire de
Saint-Vincent_, no. 99. The document is undated, but it is witnessed
by Abbot William of Saint-Vincent, who was appointed bishop of Durham
5 November 1080 and consecrated 3 January 1081. The ‘trevia’ of this
document, therefore, cannot refer to the treaty of La Bruère (1081) and
it seems probable that it refers to a truce concluded after the failure
of the first attack upon La Flèche.
[75] “MLXXXI… Fulcho Rechim castrum Fisse cepit et succendit.” _Annales
de Saint-Aubin_, in Halphen, _Annales_ p. 5. “MLXXXI. In hoc anno … comes
Andecavorum Fulcho iunior obsedit castrum quoddam quod Fissa Iohannis
dicitur atque cepit necnon succendit.” _Annales dites de Renaud_,
_ibid._, p. 88. Ordericus Vitalis does not admit that La Flèche was
taken, doubtless because of the confusion which he makes between the two
sieges. Ordericus, ii, p. 256.
[76] On the exaggeration of numbers by mediaeval chroniclers, see J. H.
Ramsay, “Chroniclers’ Estimates of Numbers and Official Records,” in _E.
H. R._, xviii (1903), pp. 625-629; and cf. the same, “The Strength of
English Armies in the Middle Ages,” _ibid._, xxix (1914), pp. 221-227.
[77] Ordericus (ii, pp. 256-257) has given a spirited account; but he
manifestly wrote without any clear conception of the geographical or
topographical setting of the proposed engagement, and all efforts to
render his account intelligible have proved in vain. For a discussion of
the problems involved and of the conjectures which have been made, see
Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 184.
[78] Freeman conjectures that this is the “ubiquitous Hubert,” cardinal
legate of Gregory VII. _Norman Conquest_, iv, p. 562.
[79] Ordericus, ii, pp. 257-258.
[80] “Qui et ipse a Fulcone bello lacessitus, obsidibus pacis pro fide
datis fratre suo, consule videlicet Mauritanie, et filio suo et multis
aliis, recessit.” Halphen, _Annales_, p. 88.
[81] “Haec nimirum pax, quae inter regem et praefatum comitem in loco,
qui vulgo Blancalanda vel Brueria dicitur, facta est, omni vita regis ad
profectum utriusque provinciae permansit.” Ordericus, ii, p. 258.
[82] Halphen, _Anjou_, pp. 185-186; Latouche, _Maine_, p. 79.
[83] Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 186; Latouche, _Maine_, p. 39.
[84] Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 145, 146; cf. nos. 149, 150, 158.
[85] _Ibid._, no. 147.
[86] _Ibid._, no. 182. He also attests with the king, queen, and William
Rufus, in 1083, a charter in favor of Saint-Julien of Tours. _Chartes de
S.-Julien de Tours_, no. 37.
Davis cites a “confirmation by William I” in favor of the abbey of
Lessay, which is attested by Robert, along with King William, Bishop Odo
of Bayeux, Henry “the king’s son,” and others, and which he assigns to
1084, remarking, “The appearance of Bishop Odo is strange, considering
that he was at this time in captivity.” _Regesta_, no. 199. It cannot,
of course, be supposed that the Conqueror really gave a confirmation
in company with Odo of Bayeux while he was holding the latter in close
confinement as a most bitter and dangerous enemy; and some other
explanation of the apparent inconsistency must be found. A glance at the
document as printed in full in _Gallia Christiana_ (xi, instr., cols.
228-229) makes it clear that we have to do here not with a single diploma
of known date, but rather with a list of notices of gifts. At the head
of the list stands the record of a grant by Roger d’Aubigny, dated 1084,
and accompanied by a list of witnesses. Then follow no less than six
separate notices of grants, each with its own witnesses; and finally
come the attestations of King William, Bishop Odo, Henry the king’s
son, Count Robert, and others. There is no reason to suppose that these
attestations are of the year 1084—a date which applies certainly only to
the first grant in the list—and they are evidently of a later period,
perhaps of the year 1091, when the abbey of Lessay might naturally seek
a confirmation from the three brothers after the pacification which
followed the siege of Mont-Saint-Michel. The king in question, therefore,
is probably William Rufus rather than the Conqueror. The style of Henry
“filii regis” is certainly surprising, but it can be matched in another
document, also probably of the year 1091. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 320; cf.
The New Palaeographical Society, _Facsimiles of Ancient Manuscripts_,
etc. (London, 1903-), 1st series, pt. 2, plate 45_a_ and text.
[87] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp.
265, 267-268; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 332; Ordericus, iii,
p. 268.
[88] “Serenitas pacis diu quaesitae inter regem et filium eius celeriter
obnubilata est. Protervus enim iuvenis patrem sequi, vel ei obedire
dedignatus est. Animosus vero princeps ob ignaviam eius crebris eum
redargutionibus et conviciis palam iniuriatus est. Unde denuo post
aliquod tempus, paucis sodalibus fretus, a patre recessit, nec postea
rediit; donec pater moriens Albericum comitem, ut ducatum Neustriae
reciperet, in Galliam ad eum direxit.” Ordericus, ii, p. 390.
[89] _Ibid._, p. 380.
[90] Robert appears in no reliable charter between the queen’s death and
his own accession to the duchy.
[91] Because of the extended period during which he is not to be found in
the charters, and because Ordericus (ii, p. 381) speaks of his being in
exile “ferme quinque annis.” Cf. _supra_, n. 12.
[92] Ordericus, ii, p. 381.
[93] “Robertus, patre adhuc vivente, Normanniam sibi negari aegre ferens,
in Italiam obstinatus abiit, ut, filia Bonifacii marchionis sumpta,
patri partibus illis adiutus adversaretur: sed, petitionis huiusce
cassus, Philippum Francorum regem contra patriam excitavit.” William of
Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 332.
[94] “Porro ille, quae ab amicis liberalibus ad subsidium sui accipiebat,
histrionibus et parasitis ac meretricibus insipienter distribuebat;
quibus improvide distractis, egestate gravi compressus mendicabat, et aes
alienum ab externis foeneratoribus exul egenus quaeritabat.” Ordericus,
ii, p. 382. Ordericus reserves his worst criticisms for Robert’s later
life, but doubtless the moral decay set in early. Cf. _ibid._, iv, pp.
105-106.
[95] _Ibid._, iv, pp. 81-82. The author embellishes his account with
a further tale of how the boys were brought up in obscurity by their
mother, who in later years took them to Robert, then become duke, and
proved their parentage by undergoing the ordeal of hot iron.
[96] Ordericus, iv, p. 82; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 45; William of
Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 333.
[97] Ordericus, ii, p. 82.
[98] _Ibid._, iii, p. 320.
[99] _Ibid._, ii, p. 390; iii, p. 228; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._,
ii, p. 338.
[100] It is clear that the war grew out of the inevitable antagonism
between the interests of the two monarchs, and particularly out of the
determination on King William’s part to reassert the Norman claim to the
Vexin. Ordericus, iii, pp. 222-225. As to the immediate provocation,
Ordericus explains that the Conqueror’s attack upon Mantes was in
retaliation for predatory incursions which certain lawless inhabitants
of the city had been making across the border into Normandy (_ibid._,
p. 222); William of Malmesbury attributes it to an insulting jest
which Philip had made about William’s obesity (_G. R._, ii, p. 336);
while Robert of Torigny ascribes it to the aid which Philip had been
giving Robert Curthose against his father (_Interpolations de Robert de
Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 265).
[101] Ordericus, iii, pp. 222-226; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._,
ii, p. 336; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1086; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 20;
_Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 265.
[102] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 332, 338; Ordericus, iii,
p. 228; cf. _Chronicon_ in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 298. Robert of Torigny
is more specific: “Cum igitur in Pontivo apud Abbatisvillam, cum sui
similibus iuvenibus, filiis scilicet satraparum Normanniae, qui ei, quasi
suo domino futuro, specie tenus obsequebantur, re autem vera novarum
rerum cupiditate illecti, moraretur et ducatum Normanniae, maxime in
margine, excursionibus et rapinis demoliretur.” _Interpolations de Robert
de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268.
[103] This is the plain inference from Ordericus, iii, p. 242; William of
Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 332,337; _De Obitu Willelmi_, in William of
Jumièges, pp. 146-147.
[104] That is, (1) before the Conquest (_supra_, p. 12), (2) after the
Conquest on the occasion of the king’s illness at Bonneville (_supra_,
p. 15), (3) at the reconciliation after the siege of Gerberoy (_supra_,
p. 29). Cf. also the charter of Stigand de Mézidon, 1063, in Le Prévost,
_Eure_, i, p. 562.
[105] Ordericus, iii, pp. 239, 242-243.
[106] _Ibid._, p. 242.
[107] _De Obitu Willelmi_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 146-147.
[108] That Maine was included is clear from the fact that Robert’s right
to rule there was not questioned. Wace, too, is specific:
E quant Guilleme trespassa,
Al duc Robert le Mans laissa.
_Roman de Rou_, ed. Hugo Andresen (Heilbronn, 1877-79), ii, p. 416. The
_Annales de Wintonia_ are clearly wrong in stating that the Conqueror
left Maine to Henry. _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 35.
[109] Ordericus, ii, p. 390: “pater moriens Albericum comitem, ut ducatum
Neustriae reciperet, in Galliam ad eum direxit”; _Interpolations de
Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268.
[110] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 338.
[111] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p.
265.