CHAPTER VI

THE LOSS OF NORMANDY

Duke Robert’s ambitious attempt to drive Henry I from the throne had

ended in a signal failure. To be sure, he had gained the promise of an

annual subsidy of 3000 marks of silver, and this must have seemed to him

an important consideration. But he had also revealed his weakness and

indecision; and Henry can hardly have looked upon the payment of the

subsidy as more than a temporary measure which would serve his purpose

until he was in a position to adopt a more aggressive course towards

the duke. By accepting a money payment in lieu of his claim upon the

English crown, Robert had inevitably been reduced from the offensive to

the defensive; and his continued failure to give strong and effective

government to Normandy was a standing invitation to Henry to attack him.

The treaty of Alton marked the beginning of a path of disaster which

was to lead the duke to the field of Tinchebray and the prison walls of

Cardiff.

From a military standpoint there had been little of the heroic about

Henry’s course in meeting the invasion. But he had won a diplomatic

victory of the first importance, and he was not slow to take full

advantage of his success. Regardless of the amnesty which had been

provided by the recent treaty, he proceeded at once to take summary

vengeance upon his enemies. Robert had not yet left the realm when the

first blow fell upon William of Warenne and several others who were sent

out of the kingdom with him, “disinherited for his sake.”[1] It soon

appeared that a like fate was in store for others of the duke’s late

supporters. King Henry did not proceed against them directly for calling

in the invader—that presumably would have been a needless violation of

the treaty—nor did he court disaster by attacking them all at once. But

one by one, and upon various charges, he had them haled before his

_curia_ and condemned.[2] Ivo of Grandmesnil, the crusader, attempted

to engage in private war, a thing before almost unknown in England, and

was made to pay for his presumption with a heavy fine. Covered with

shame as he was, as a result of his cowardice at Antioch, and convinced

that he would never be able to regain the king’s friendship, he found

it advisable to extricate himself from his difficulties by departing a

second time on crusade.[3] Robert Malet and Robert of Pontefract, son of

Ilbert de Lacy, were also disinherited and made to quit the realm.[4]

Before proceeding against his more powerful enemies of the great house of

Talvas, or Bellême, Henry made more careful preparations. For the best

part of a year he set his secret agents to watch the terrible Robert,

earl of Shrewsbury, and to gather information against him, which was all

carefully reduced to writing.[5] Then suddenly, in 1102, the earl was

summoned to appear before the _curia regis_,[6] accused upon forty-five

separate counts of words spoken or acts committed against the king or

his brother, the duke of Normandy. Tacitly admitting that his case was

hopeless, the great earl fled to his strongholds without pleading, and

was adjudged a public enemy.[7] War followed. One by one, the earl’s

fortresses, Arundel, Tickhill, Bridgenorth, and Shrewsbury, were reduced;

and before Michaelmas[8] Robert of Bellême was driven from England, an

utterly defeated and disinherited outlaw. “Filled with grief and rage,”

he went over sea and “spent his fury on the Normans.”[9]

It was not the king’s way to do things by halves. As soon as he had

finished with Robert, he took action against other members of the Bellême

family. Accusations were brought against Arnulf and Roger, Robert’s

brothers, and they were condemned to the loss of their estates and driven

from the realm.[10] But even then the king’s anger was not appeased or

his appetite for plunder sated; and he proceeded to confiscate the lands

which the nuns of the Norman monastery of Almenèches had received in

England through the generosity of Roger of Montgomery.[11] Their sole

offence lay in the fact that they happened to be presided over by Abbess

Emma, a sister of Robert of Bellême.

While Henry was thus engaged in extirpating his enemies in England,

Normandy under Duke Robert was increasingly a prey to confusion and

anarchy. As we have noted, the death of William Rufus had been the signal

for an outbreak of private war in the duchy. In the very week that the

news of the king’s death was received, William of Évreux and Ralph of

Conches made a hostile incursion into the territory of Beaumont and

plundered the lands of Robert of Meulan. In a like spirit, others who

had been held in check by the rigor of the Red King’s justice now took

up arms and desolated the wretched country.[12] It is probable that the

duke’s return from the Crusade and his attack upon England in some degree

mitigated these conditions of disorder. The expedition against England

could hardly have been fitted out and launched amid such anarchy as

Ordericus describes. And as the turbulent barons prepared themselves for

the foreign enterprise, their minds and hands must necessarily have been

turned away from domestic feuds.

But for the same reason the failure of the attack upon England reacted

disastrously upon Normandy, and brought on disorders hitherto unheard

of. As Henry I expelled the outlaws from England, they invariably sought

a refuge in Normandy and attempted to recoup their damaged fortunes by

indulging in the worst excesses.[13] For a time Robert Curthose showed

some spirit in dealing with the freebooters, though, if one accept

the account of Ordericus Vitalis even with considerable reservations,

his efforts did him little credit. When Henry embarked upon his great

struggle with the house of Bellême in 1102, he appealed to Robert under

the terms of the treaty of Alton to join him in the enterprise. And the

duke so far responded to his call as to assemble the forces of Normandy

and lay siege to the castle of Vignats, a Bellême stronghold, which

was held by Gerard de Saint-Hilaire. It is reported that the garrison

were ready and even eager to surrender, had a vigorous assault been

made to give them a fair excuse. But the duke had little control over

his undisciplined host, and Robert de Montfort and other traitors in

the ranks fired the encampment and threw the whole army into a panic.

The ducal forces fled in wild confusion with none pursuing, and the

astonished garrison of Vignats shouted after them in derision.[14]

Realizing now that they had nothing to fear, they issued from their

stronghold and carried a devastating war throughout the Hiémois, and,

so far as is recorded, the duke made no effort to repress them. Nothing

remained but for the local lords of the district to defend themselves.

Robert of Grandmesnil and his two brothers-in-law, Hugh de Montpinçon

and Robert de Courcy, assembled their vassals and did what they could to

check the freebooters. But their efforts met with small success. Other

Bellême garrisons from Château-Gontier, Fourches, and Argentan joined

with the plunderers from Vignats, and their raids were carried far and

wide. Only the strong could defend themselves, and the homes of the

unarmed peasantry were pillaged and given over to the flames.[15]

If we have here a true account, Robert Curthose had proved unequal to the

task of putting down an insignificant body of Bellême’s retainers and of

keeping peace in the restricted territory of the Hiémois. He was soon

called upon to deal with the arch-enemy of peace and order in person. It

must have been in the autumn of 1102 that Robert of Bellême, utterly

discomfited and overwhelmed in England, crossed over to Normandy and

began to vent his fury upon those of his countrymen who had dared to join

the duke in attacking his garrisons.[16]

The disorders of 1102 were but a prelude to those that followed in

1103. We have only a fragmentary account of the events, but the general

impression of the picture is that of a war of unparalleled violence and

cruelty. Villages were depopulated, and churches were burned down upon

the men, women, and children who had taken refuge in them. “Almost all

Normandy” arose as by common consent against the tyrant of Bellême. But

the movement was rendered ineffective for want of a strong and persistent

leader.[17] Robert of Bellême, on his side, possessed almost unlimited

resources. He is said to have held thirty-four strong castles, all well

stocked with provisions and ready for war. Disregarding the claims of his

brothers Roger and Arnulf, who had suffered outlawry and exile on his

account, he retained the whole family inheritance in his own hands. While

this kept his resources intact, it cost him the support of his brothers.

Roger retired from the conflict and spent the rest of his life upon his

wife’s patrimony at Charroux. But Arnulf in high indignation deserted the

family cause and threw in his lot with Robert Curthose, taking with him

a considerable number of Bellême supporters. Having recently captured

the castle of Almenèches, he turned it over to the duke, who assembled

an army there and prepared to press his advantage.[18] With ‘almost all

Normandy’ in arms against him, with one of his brothers in retirement,

and the other actively supporting the duke, the cause of Robert of

Bellême might well seem desperate. He even doubted the fidelity of his

closest friends. Yet, undismayed, he rushed to Almenèches, and, without a

moment’s hesitation, fired the nunnery and burned it to the ground.[19]

Overwhelming the ducal forces, he captured Oliver de Fresnay and many

others, and subjected not a few of them to horrible punishments. The

duke, admitting his defeat, retired to Exmes.[20]

The necessity of crushing Robert of Bellême now became more imperative

than ever, and for a time there seemed some prospect of success. His

violence and oppression had stirred up against him not only the Normans,

but some of his powerful neighbors across the border. Rotrou of Mortagne

joined forces with William of Évreux and the men of the Hiémois. Robert

of Saint-Céneri and Hugh de Nonant also joined the movement with their

retainers. But even this swarm of enemies was unable to inflict a

crushing defeat upon the lord of Bellême. They could injure him in

numerous small engagements, but to overcome him, or inflict any condign

punishment upon him, was beyond their power.[21]

Robert of Bellême’s future in Normandy was finally determined by a

decisive battle with the duke, but the place and date of the engagement

are not recorded. We are without information as to the duke’s movements

after his retirement from Almenèches to Exmes, though it seems clear

that he reassembled his troops and determined to renew the offensive

against Robert of Bellême. But the lord of Bellême did not wait to be

attacked. Drawing up his forces in battle order as the ducal army was

approaching, he launched a furious onslaught which carried all before it.

The duke was put to flight, and William of Conversano and many others of

his supporters were captured. Then, laments the chronicler, “the proud

Normans blushed for shame that they, who had been the conquerors of

barbarous foreign nations, should now be vanquished and put to flight by

one of their own sons in the very heart of their own country.” Robert

of Bellême is said to have aspired to the conquest of the whole duchy.

Many of the Normans who hitherto had resisted him now felt constrained to

bow their necks beneath the yoke, and joined the tyrant for the sake of

their own safety. Pressing his advantage home, he now gained possession

of Exmes.[22] The discomfiture of the duke was complete, and he had

no choice but to conclude a peace with his too powerful subject upon

humiliating terms.[23]

Bishop Serlo of Séez and Ralph, abbot of Saint-Martin of Séez, unable any

longer to bear the oppression of the tyrant, withdrew from their posts

and crossed over to England, where they were cordially welcomed by Henry

I.[24] They were to be of no small service to the king in the shaping of

his future policy.

While the diocese of Séez was a prey to the indescribable confusion of

the struggle with Robert of Bellême, the Évrecin was not spared the

horrors of a private war. There the death of William of Breteuil[25]

without legitimate issue,[26] and a consequent disputed succession,

had reopened an ancient local feud.[27] While William was being buried

at Lire, a natural son named Eustace seized his lands and occupied the

strongholds.[28] But a nephew named Renaud, of the illustrious Burgundian

house of Grancey, claimed the succession as legitimate heir. Many of the

Normans preferred a fellow countryman, though a bastard, to a foreigner,

and supported Eustace. But the ancient enemies of Breteuil rallied around

the Burgundian. William of Évreux led the movement, and was promptly

joined by Ralph of Conches, Amaury de Montfort, and Ascelin Goël.[29] But

Eustace was supported by loyal and powerful vassals; and when he saw that

he could not win single-handed, he appealed for aid to Henry I, who was

quick to realize the advantages which the Breteuil succession controversy

offered for the inauguration of a far-reaching policy of intervention

in the internal affairs of Normandy. The king not only promised Eustace

the desired assistance, but he gave him the hand of Juliana, one of his

natural daughters, in marriage.[30] And further, he sent his able and

trusted minister, Robert of Meulan—who as lord of Beaumont had special

interests in the disturbed district—to Normandy to deal personally

with the situation and to warn Robert Curthose and the Normans barons

that unless they supported his son-in-law and drove out the foreign

intruder, they would incur his royal displeasure. With such powerful

backing, Eustace of Breteuil gradually got the better of his rival—who

waged the war with such disgusting cruelty that he alienated many of his

adherents—and finally made himself master of the whole of his father’s

honor, and expelled the foreigner from the land.[31]

It was one thing to expel the foreigner; it was quite another to overcome

the local enemies of Breteuil who had rallied around the intruder for

the sake of their own advantage. With these, Robert of Meulan undertook

to deal, and he found them aggressive enemies, if more nearly bandits

and robbers than warriors. Ascelin Goël, whose prison walls at Ivry had

on a former occasion closed around William of Breteuil, ambushed and

captured a certain John of Meulan, a rich burgess and usurer, when he

was returning from a conference with his lord, the count of Beaumont.

For four months the ‘avaricious usurer’ lay in Ascelin’s gaol. Doubtless

the financial resources of the wealthy burgess were of no small concern

to Robert of Meulan, and he made frantic efforts to procure his release.

But try as he might, he could not extract him from the ‘wolf’s mouth.’

Finally he was obliged to conclude a peace with William of Évreux,

betrothing his infant daughter Adelina to William’s nephew Amaury de

Montfort. Ralph of Conches, Eustace of Breteuil, Ascelin Goël, and the

other belligerent lords were included in the pacification, and John of

Meulan, the usurer, was set at liberty.[32]

It is not recorded that Robert Curthose interfered in any way in this

private war, or made any effort to suppress it. Perhaps he was at

the time wholly occupied by the struggle with Robert of Bellême, or

perhaps he may already have been on his way to England on a mission of

intercession for a friend. But before following him again across the

Channel, we must take some account of his domestic affairs.

The Norman heiress, Sibyl of Conversano, whom Robert brought back

with him from Italy to be duchess of Normandy, has been universally

praised for her surpassing beauty, refinement of manners, and excellent

qualities.[33] Though she may have had a few private enemies, she

enjoyed a great popularity; and Robert of Torigny affirms that at times

during the duke’s absence she was entrusted with the administration of

the duchy, and that in this capacity she was more successful than her

husband.[34] But her beneficent career of usefulness was short indeed.

Soon after the birth of her only child,[35] William the Clito, she died

at Rouen,[36] and was buried, amid universal sorrow, in the cathedral

church, Archbishop William Bonne-Ame performing the obsequies.[37]

The cause of Sibyl’s death is shrouded in mystery. William of Malmesbury

reports simply that she died shortly after the birth of her son, as the

result of foolish advice given by the midwife.[38] But Ordericus Vitalis

does not spare us a dark scandal. According to him Agnes de Ribemont,

sister of the distinguished crusader, had recently been left a widow by

the death of her husband Walter Giffard, and, becoming infatuated with

Robert Curthose, had entangled him in the snares of illicit love. By

undertaking to gain for him the aid of her powerful family connections

against his numerous enemies, she obtained from him a promise that,

upon the death of his wife, he would marry her and intrust her with the

administration of the duchy. Soon after, the beautiful Sibyl took to

her bed and died of poison.[39] It seems almost incredible that this

tale should be anything but a malicious libel got up by some of the

duke’s unscrupulous enemies. Duchess Sibyl was probably already dead

before Agnes de Ribemont became a widow. But in the chaotic chronology

of the early chapters of the eleventh book of Ordericus Vitalis, it is

impossible to speak with any assurance, and a dark saying of Robert of

Torigny may possibly lend some color to the scandalous tale.[40]

It would seem that with domestic bereavement, and the distractions

of rebellion and private war, Robert Curthose had enough to occupy

him within the limits of his duchy. Yet it was apparently during this

critical period that a foolish impulse of generosity towards a friend led

him to embark upon an enterprise which resulted in further humiliation

and disaster. William of Warenne, one of the barons who had been deprived

of his possessions and honors in England after the failure of the

invasion of 1101, came to the duke to complain that through loyalty to

his cause he had lost the great earldom of Surrey with its annual revenue

of 1000 pounds, and besought him to intercede with King Henry in order

that he might regain the earldom and the royal favor. Apparently the

duke had not yet realized the character of his unscrupulous brother, or

the hostile plans which Henry was maturing against him, and he readily

consented to William of Warenne’s request.[41]

It must have been towards the end of the year 1103 that Duke Robert

crossed the Channel with a small suite of knights and squires and landed

at Southampton.[42] Henry I was quick to realize the advantages of the

situation, and with perfect unscrupulousness he determined to use them

to the utmost. Feigning great indignation that Robert had presumed to

enter his dominions without permission and a safe-conduct, he sent his

agents—Robert of Meulan seems to have been chiefly charged with the

enterprise[43]—to intimate to him that he was in grave danger of capture

and imprisonment. The duke was taken completely by surprise. He had no

armed force at his back. He was, in fact, at the king’s mercy, although

the externals of an honorable reception were accorded him, and he was

conducted to the royal court, where negotiations were carried on in

private. Henry charged him with a violation of the treaty of Alton in

that, instead of punishing traitors with the rigor befitting a prince,

he had made peace with Robert of Bellême and had confirmed him in the

possession of certain of their father’s domains. The duke, appreciating

his helplessness in the situation in which he found himself, humbly

promised to make amends; but the king now informed him that he desired

something more than this—indeed, that he would not permit him to quit the

realm until he had surrendered his claim to the annual subsidy of 3000

marks which was due him under the terms of the treaty of Alton. In order

that this crowning humiliation might be cloaked in a garb of decency, the

duke was allowed to see the queen, his god-daughter, and to relinquish

the subsidy as if at her request.[44] But this clever play upon his

chivalrous nature could not conceal the character of the transaction.

Robert in his ineffable simplicity had been treacherously taken and

robbed. According to William of Malmesbury, the king had even gone the

length of inducing him to come to England by a special invitation.[45]

However this may be, and whatever the uncertainty about the details of

this episode, the sources are agreed as to the character of the part

which the king had played in it.[46] Wace avers that it was only then

that Robert began to realize that his brother hated him.[47]

William of Warenne was now restored to the royal favor, and recovered his

earldom. And the duke, having given full satisfaction in all that was

demanded of him, was allowed to return to Normandy, a greater object of

contempt than ever among his subjects.[48] It can hardly be doubted that

from this moment the king had formed a deliberate project of depriving

him of his duchy and of reuniting Normandy to England. Step by step

Robert was paving the way to his own destruction, while Henry with equal

sureness was preparing himself for the final triumph. Whatever prestige

the duke had brought back with him from the Crusade must long since

have been dissipated. He had failed lamentably in his attempt to gain

the English crown, he had failed to oust an ever encroaching enemy from

the strongholds of his duchy, he had failed to subdue his most powerful

and lawless subject, Robert of Bellême. He had placed no check upon the

anarchy of private war, he had wasted his fortune upon base associates

and barren enterprises, and he had alienated the Norman church.

Since the duke’s return from the Crusade, government in Normandy seems

to have been almost in abeyance. Nothing could more surely have lost

Robert the support of the church than the unrestrained anarchy and

disorder which prevailed. Yet there were other grounds on which he was

found wanting by the clergy. While dissipating his treasure upon unworthy

favorites and unscrupulous courtiers, he had few favors to bestow upon

religious foundations. Only a single charter by the duke has survived

from the period after his return from the Crusade, a grant of a fair

and a market in the village of Cheux to the monks of Saint-Étienne of

Caen.[49]

But the church had greater and more positive grievances against Robert

Curthose. His peace and friendship with Robert of Bellême were an

unpardonable offence; and by granting lucrative rights over the bishopric

of Séez to this turbulent vassal,[50] the duke had aroused enemies whose

influence against him was to prove disastrous in the crisis of 1105. As

has already been explained,[51] Serlo, bishop of Séez, and Ralph, abbot

of Saint-Martin of Séez, deemed it intolerable longer to endure the

oppression of the tyrant; and going into voluntary exile, they sought

an asylum in England, where they were warmly welcomed by Henry I.[52]

The value which the king attached to the support and services of Abbot

Ralph may perhaps be judged by the fact that he was promoted to the see

of Rochester in 1108 and made archbishop of Canterbury in 1114; and it

is no mere chance that it was Bishop Serlo who was to welcome King Henry

and his invading army in Normandy in 1105, and to preach the sermon

which was to stand as the public justification of the king’s action in

dispossessing his brother of the duchy.[53]

But the duke had sinned further against the church through the practice

of simony. A peculiarly flagrant case occurred in 1105 in connection with

the abbey of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. Upon the death of Abbot Fulk, the

duke sold the abbacy for one hundred and forty-five marks of silver to a

certain Robert, a wicked monk of Saint-Denis, who like a devouring wolf

drove out the monks, built a stronghold in the sacred precincts of the

monastery, and garrisoned it with armed retainers whom he hired out of

profits derived from the sale of ecclesiastical ornaments belonging to

the abbey.[54]

More notorious still, and more fatal to the good name of the duke, was

the situation which arose in the bishopric of Lisieux upon the death of

Gilbert Maminot in August 1101. At first Ranulf Flambard, the notorious

bishop of Durham, succeeded in gaining the vacant see for his brother

Fulcher, who, in spite of his illiteracy, had some commendable qualities;

and since he lived but a few months after his consecration, no active

protest was raised against him.[55] But upon his death, Flambard resorted

to a more scandalous measure and obtained the see for his son Thomas,

a youth some twelve years of age.[56] The duke invested the boy with

the sacred office, at the same time agreeing that, if he should die,

another of Flambard’s sons, who was still younger, should succeed to the

bishopric.[57] And meanwhile Flambard himself administered the affairs of

the see, “not as bishop but as steward.”[58]

So matters stood for some three years, until in 1105 the great canonist

and reformer, Ivo of Chartres, intervened, and through his immense

influence elevated what had hitherto been but a flagrant local abuse into

an affair of something like European importance. He wrote to the Norman

bishops demanding that they put an end to such a scandal.[59] Meanwhile,

the serious danger in which Robert Curthose stood of losing his duchy

brought him for a moment to his senses, and, at the urgent warning of

the archbishop of Rouen and of the bishop of Évreux, he had Flambard

and his sons ejected from the see, and gave orders for a canonical

election.[60] The choice of the clergy fell upon William, archdeacon of

Évreux, a worthy man, who went at once to the metropolitan and demanded

consecration;[61] and Ivo of Chartres wrote to congratulate the Norman

bishops upon having purged the church of the ‘dirty boys’ who had been

thrust into the sacred office.[62] But now new complications arose. It

so happened that William Bonne-Ame, archbishop of Rouen, was then under

sentence of excommunication, and therefore incompetent to install the new

bishop elect. Accordingly, the latter wrote Bishop Ivo to inquire whether

under the circumstances he might legitimately receive consecration from

the suffragans of the excommunicated archbishop. Ivo confessed himself

unable to answer the question, and referred the bishop elect to Rome to

deal directly with the Holy See.[63]

During this unexpected delay, Flambard executed another ‘tergiversation.’

He induced the duke, in return for a great sum, to confer the bishopric

upon one of his clerks, a certain William de Pacy.[64] Again the

venerable Ivo wrote to the archbishop of Rouen and the bishop of

Évreux to protest against this new introduction of uncleanness into

the church which they had so recently purged, and to warn them that

unless they acted with vigor to correct this latest abuse, he would

bring the “filthy, fetid rumor to the apostolic ears” to their no small

disadvantage.[65] The threat was not without avail. William de Pacy was

summoned to Rouen to answer before the metropolitan for his conduct, and

was able to make no defence. He freely admitted that he had received the

bishopric neither by election of clergy and people nor by the free gift

of the duke. Judgment upon him, however, was suspended—perhaps because

the archbishop was still under sentence of excommunication—and he was

sent to Rome, there to be condemned for simony.[66] Bishop Ivo wrote to

the Pope setting forth in detail the whole course of the disgraceful

business.

But now Ivo of Chartres went a step farther. He had put the full weight

of the great moral influence which he exerted in Europe upon the Norman

bishops. He had laid the scandal of Lisieux before the Pope. He now

turned his gaze across the English Channel. Writing to Robert of Meulan,

King Henry’s trusted minister, he again protested against the disgraceful

intrusion of Ranulf Flambard into the see of Lisieux. He urged him to

use his well known influence with the king to induce him to do whatever

he could for the liberation of the oppressed church, lest those who

had welcomed Henry’s intervention in the affairs of Normandy, and had

predicted that good would come of it, “should willy-nilly change the

serenity of their praise into clouds of vituperation.” “For,” said he,

“kings are not instituted that they may break the laws, but that, if the

destroyers of laws cannot otherwise be corrected, they may strike them

down with the sword.”[67] Could even a more scrupulous monarch than Henry

I have resisted such a call to arms?[68]

As a returned crusader, Robert Curthose might possibly have looked to the

Holy See for some support against his enemies. Indeed, he had done so.

Before embarking upon the invasion of England in 1101, he had written

to the Pope complaining that Henry had violated his oath in assuming

the English crown; and Pascal had felt constrained to write Anselm a

mild letter[69] in which he recognized the special obligations of the

papacy to one who had labored “in the liberation of the church of Asia.”

He asked Anselm to join with the legates he was sending in mediating

between the warring brothers, ‘unless peace had already been made

between them.’[70] But at best this was only a perfunctory and belated

recognition of an inconvenient obligation, and Pascal can hardly have

seriously expected to influence the situation in Duke Robert’s favor.

And as time elapsed, the attitude of Pascal did not become more favorable

to the duke. In the summer of 1105 the relations between the papacy and

Henry I suddenly improved greatly, and from that time rapid progress was

made towards a definite settlement of the investiture controversy in

England.[71] This removed the last possible consideration which might

have induced the Pope to support the duke against the king in Normandy.

Moreover, a fragment of Pascal’s correspondence with Robert Curthose,

which has recently been brought to light,[72] reveals the fact that at

this very time the Pope was engaged in an investiture struggle with the

duke. We would gladly know more of this controversy, but this single

surviving letter is enough to show that the Pope had complained that,

contrary to the law of the church, Robert was performing investitures

with staff and ring; that, treating the church not as the spouse of

Christ but as a handmaiden, he was giving her over to be ruled by

usurping enemies. Probably Pascal referred to the notorious scandals

of Lisieux and of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. Something also of the duke’s

reply may be gathered from the papal letter. Taking his stand upon the

rights and customs of his ancestors, he had boldly claimed for himself

the right of investiture. This was sound ducal policy, but it would not

be accepted in Rome from such a prince as Robert Curthose. It could only

serve to complete the breach between the ex-crusader and the Holy See and

leave the duke without support in his hour of need.

Meanwhile, in what striking contrast with the weak and blundering policy

of Robert Curthose, were the careful, methodical preparations which Henry

I was making for the struggle upon which he had determined! With him all

was wisdom, foresight, largeness of view, self-control.

The friendly relations between the courts of France and England,

established at the beginning of Henry’s reign by the state visit of

Louis, the king designate of France, have already been remarked upon.[73]

Henry I took good care to preserve and cultivate this diplomatic

cordiality during the critical years of his struggle for Normandy. And,

as will appear in the sequel, his efforts were abundantly rewarded when

Prince Louis officially recognized his conquest of the duchy shortly

after it was completed.[74] In the same spirit the king prepared for

all eventualities on the side of Flanders. In the archives of the

English exchequer there has been preserved an original chirograph of

a treaty which he concluded, apparently in 1103, with Count Robert of

Flanders.[75] By its terms the count bound himself, in exchange for an

annual subsidy of four hundred marks, to furnish the king with a force

of a thousand knights—for service in Normandy, among other places, be it

noted—and to do his utmost to dissuade the king of France from any attack

upon the king of England. Further, as the decisive struggle approached,

Henry entered into agreements with the princes of Maine, Anjou, and

Brittany for contingents to be furnished from those regions to his army

for the conquest of Normandy. The record of the negotiations has not been

preserved; but we shall meet with these contingents rendering effective

service in the campaigns of 1105 and 1106.[76]

But Henry prepared himself against the duke not only by the careful

manipulation of his relations with foreign powers; he spared no effort to

undermine him in the duchy. His intervention in the war of the Breteuil

succession and the marriage of his daughter Juliana to Eustace of

Breteuil have already been alluded to.[77] A similar purpose must have

prompted him to arrange the marriage of another of his natural daughters

to Rotrou of Mortagne,[78] one of the chief enemies of Robert of Bellême,

and an old companion in arms of Robert Curthose on the Crusade. Some

hint, at least, of the nature of the pacification which Robert of

Meulan was intended to make when he was sent to Normandy as the king’s

special agent in 1103 may be gathered from the efforts which he made to

procure the liberation of the ‘avaricious usurer,’ John of Meulan.[79]

It can hardly be doubted that Henry was making free use of money in the

corruption of the duke’s influential subjects and in the upbuilding of an

English party in Normandy. And in this policy he was very successful. Not

only were important Norman churchmen imploring his aid and working for

his intervention; but many great nobles were either openly or secretly

deserting the duke and offering their services to the English cause. The

movement is well illustrated by the case of Ralph III of Conches. His

father, Ralph II, had been among the Norman barons who upon the death

of William Rufus had taken up arms and plundered the lands of Robert

of Meulan at Beaumont.[80] He was certainly no friend of Henry I. But

upon his death, probably in 1102,[81] his son saw new light. Crossing

to England, he was cordially welcomed by the king, who granted him his

father’s lands and the hand of an English heiress who was connected with

the royal family.[82] Such a shining example was not lost upon other

Norman barons who now deserted the duke and besought King Henry ‘with

tears’ to come to the aid of the suffering church and of their wretched

country.[83]

By the beginning of 1104, Henry I had acquired a strong party, both lay

and ecclesiastical, in Normandy, which eagerly awaited his coming and

stood ready to aid him in the overthrow of Robert Curthose and in the

conquest of the duchy. He had never given up Domfront, and he apparently

retained possession of certain strongholds in the Cotentin,[84] the

treaty of Alton notwithstanding. Upon these he could rely as a secure

base while his friends rallied around him after he had landed on Norman

soil. Henry’s diplomacy, however, could not remove all enemies from his

path, and he sometimes chose to defy them. William of Mortain, earl of

Cornwall, had been among the duke’s most powerful supporters against the

king in 1101. Yet, for some unexplained reason, he did not suffer the

prompt banishment to which the Bellêmes and other traitors were condemned

when the crisis of the invasion had passed. The king temporized and kept

up at least an appearance of friendship. It is even intimated that in

1104 he sent the earl to Normandy to act on his behalf. However this may

be, when William of Mortain arrived in Normandy, he worked against the

king rather than for him, and, as a result, was promptly deprived of all

his English honors.[85] The duke had gained at least one supporter who

would not desert him.

The year 1104 was for Henry I a period of active preparation for an

enterprise which he was not yet ready publicly to avow. His trusted

agents were busy in Normandy preparing the way with English treasure.

Gradually and quietly he was sending men and equipment to reënforce the

garrisons of his Norman strongholds.[86] Indeed, if Ordericus Vitalis

can be trusted,[87] Henry himself crossed the Channel with a fleet and

paid a visit to Domfront and his castles in Normandy in great state, and

was welcomed by Robert of Meulan, Richard earl of Chester, Stephen of

Aumale, Henry of Eu, Rotrou of Mortagne, Robert Fitz Hamon, Robert de

Montfort, Ralph de Mortimer, and many others who held estates in England

and were ready to support him in an attack upon the duchy. The list shows

strikingly the proportions to which the English party in Normandy had

grown. Encouraged by his enthusiastic reception, the king is said to

have taken a lofty tone in his dealings with the duke. He summoned him

to a conference and lectured him upon his incompetence. Again, as the

year before in England, he upbraided him for making peace with Robert of

Bellême and for granting to him the domains of the Conqueror, contrary to

their agreements. He charged him with abetting highwaymen and brigands,

and with dissipating the wealth of his duchy upon the impudent scamps and

hangers-on who surrounded him. He declared him neither a real prince nor

a shepherd of his people, since he suffered the defenceless population to

remain a prey to ravening wolves. This eloquent indictment, we are told,

quite overwhelmed the duke. Though he placed the blame for his misdeeds

upon his turbulent associates, he craved the king’s pardon and offered to

compensate him by surrendering the homage of William of Évreux together

with his county and his vassals. Henry accepted the offer, William of

Évreux agreed, and a formal transfer of the homage was effected, the

duke placing the count’s hands between the hands of the king. And with

this reward for his pains, Henry returned to England “before winter,”

doubtless more than ever convinced of the weakness of Robert Curthose

and of the feasibility of his overthrow and of the conquest of the

duchy.[88]

Henry’s visit had given a further shock to the duke’s prestige, and his

return to England was followed by a renewed outbreak of anarchy and

disorder in the duchy. Robert of Bellême and William of Mortain, in high

indignation at the new advantages which the king had gained, began to

attack his adherents, and such was the harrying and burning and wholesale

murder which ensued that many of the unarmed peasants fled into France

with their wives and children.[89] Robert Fitz Hamon, lord of Torigny and

Creully, one of the duke’s chief supporters in 1101, had thrown in his

lot with the king, and his treason against the duke had been of so black

a character as to render him particularly odious among loyal subjects

and to arouse intense indignation against him. He now took to plundering

the countryside, and as he was harrying the Bessin, Gontier d’Aunay and

Reginald of Warenne with the forces from Bayeux and Caen managed to cut

him off and surround him in the village of Secqueville. He sought refuge

in the church tower, but the sanctuary did not protect him; for the

church was burned, and he was taken prisoner. As his captors led him away

to Bayeux, they had great difficulty to keep him from the hands of the

mob which crowded after them, shouting

La hart, la hart al traitor

Qui a guerpi son dreit seignor![90]

Such were the chaotic conditions in Normandy as they are depicted for us

in the spring of 1105. Yet we should beware of exaggeration. They may

not have been general. Indeed, they probably were not. Our evidence, at

best, is but fragmentary, and it rests in the main upon the testimony of

Ordericus Vitalis, who was no friend of Robert Curthose, and who dwelt in

the debatable region of the south, where the lawless elements were most

unbridled, and where the disturbing influence of English aggression had

made most headway. Even though we accept at its face value the testimony

concerning the diocese of Séez, the Bessin, and the Cotentin, it seems

reasonable, in the absence of such evidence for other parts of the duchy,

to conclude that conditions elsewhere were almost certainly better.

It is impossible to form anything like a complete picture of the state

of the defences of the duchy upon the eve of the English invasion.

Robert of Bellême and William of Mortain, by far the most powerful of

the duke’s supporters, were still in undisputed possession of their

hereditary Norman dominions. Robert d’Estouteville had charge of the

duke’s troops and castles in the pays de Caux.[91] Hugh de Nonant was

in command at Rouen.[92] His nephew Gontier d’Aunay was charged with

the defence of Bayeux;[93] and, apparently, Enguerran, son of Ilbert de

Lacy, with that of Caen.[94] Others of the duke’s chief supporters were

Reginald of Warenne,[95] brother of the earl of Surrey, and William of

Conversano,[96] brother of the late Duchess Sibyl. The ducal forces were

evidently too weak to offer effectual resistance in the open. Robert’s

hope lay in the strength of his fortresses; and it appears that he made a

spirited effort to put them in a state of defence, though his financial

resources were near exhaustion. Wace is specific with regard to the works

which were undertaken at Caen. In his day, it was still possible to trace

one of the great trenches which had been dug

par la rue Meisine,

Qui a la porte Milet fine,

and which was connected with the waters of the Orne. So long as the

duke could raise money by laying taxes upon the burgesses, he hired

mercenaries, and for the rest he made promises. But his exactions only

served to stir up the townsmen against him, without being in any way

adequate to keep his forces together. In a steady stream they deserted to

the king, and the helpless duke could only remark characteristically:

Laissiez aler!

Ne poon a toz estriver;

Laissiez aler, laissiez venir!

Ne poon pas toz retenir.[97]

Meanwhile, Henry I, having fitted out his expedition for the invasion of

Normandy, crossed the Channel in Holy Week 1105,[98] and landed without

opposition at Barfleur in the Cotentin; and on Easter eve he found

quarters in the village of Carentan.[99]

Then, according to the account of Ordericus Vitalis, there followed an

amazing piece of acting. The venerable Serlo, bishop of Séez, “first

of the Normans to offer his services to the king,” came to Carentan

to celebrate Easter in the royal presence. Clothing himself in his

sacred vestments, he entered the church. And while he sat awaiting the

assembling of the people and of the king’s followers before beginning the

service, he observed that the church was filled with all sorts of chests

and utensils and various kinds of gear which the peasants had brought

in for protection from the war and anarchy which were devastating the

Cotentin. It was probably in the main from pillage by the king’s forces

that the frightened peasantry were seeking protection,[100] but this

fact did not prevent the facile bishop from making the scene before him

his point of departure for a ringing appeal to arms, and for a public

justification of Henry’s attack upon Normandy. Observing the king with

a group of his nobles seated humbly among the peasants’ panniers at the

lower end of the church, Serlo heaved a deep sigh for the misery of the

people and rose to speak.

The hearts of all the faithful, he said, should mourn for the distresses

of the church and for the wretchedness of the people. The Cotentin was

laid waste and depopulated. For lack of a governor all Normandy was a

prey to thieves and robbers. The church of God, which ought to be a

place of prayer, was now, for want of a righteous defender, turned into

a storehouse for the peasants’ belongings. There was no room left in

which to kneel reverently or to stand devoutly before the Divine Majesty

because of the clutter of goods which the helpless rustics for fear of

plunderers had brought into the Lord’s house. And so, where government

failed, the church had perforce become the refuge of a defenceless

people. Yet not even in the church was there security; for that very

year, in Serlo’s own diocese of Séez, Robert of Bellême had burned

the church of Tournay to the ground, and men and women to the number

of forty-five had perished in it. Robert, the king’s brother, did not

really possess the duchy or rule his people as a duke who walked in the

path of justice. He was an indolent and an abandoned prince, who had

made himself subservient to William of Conversano, Hugh de Nonant, and

Gontier d’Aunay. He had dissipated the wealth of his fair duchy in vanity

and upon trifles. Often he fasted till three in the afternoon for lack

of bread. Often he dared not rise from bed and attend mass for want of

trousers, stockings, and shoes; for the buffoons and harlots who infested

his quarters had carried them off during the night while he lay snoring

in drunkenness; and then they impudently boasted that they had robbed the

duke. So, the head languishing, the whole body was sick, and a prince

without understanding had placed the whole duchy in peril. Let the king

arise, therefore, in God’s name, and obtain his paternal inheritance with

the sword of justice. Let him snatch his ancestral possessions from the

hands of base men. Let him give rein to his righteous anger, as did David

of old, not from any worldly desire for territorial aggrandizement, but

for the defence of his ‘native soil.’[101]

Moved by this stirring appeal, the king gravely arose. “In the Lord’s

name,” he said, “I will rise to this labor for the sake of peace, and

with your aid I will seek peace for the church.” Robert of Meulan and

other barons present applauded the momentous decision.

And now, behold another wonder! King Henry had become the defender of

the church. In order that his virtue might appear the more transcendent,

he was now to join the ranks of the reformers of morals. The venerable

Serlo, resuming his discourse, proceeded to harangue the king and his

suite upon the evils of the outlandish fashions which had recently

been taken up in high society, to the great scandal of the clergy and

of decent Christians. Like obdurate sons of Belial, the men of fashion

had taken to dressing their hair like women and to wearing things like

scorpion’s tails at the extremities of their feet, so that they resembled

women because of their effeminacy, and serpents by reason of their

pointed fangs. This kind of men had been foretold a thousand years before

by St. John the Divine, under the figure of locusts. Let the king offer

his subjects a laudable example, in order that they might see in his

person a model by which to regulate their own.

Again Henry was convinced by episcopal eloquence and readily assented

to Serlo’s proposal. The bishop had come prepared. Amid a general

consternation which may well be imagined, he drew shears from his wallet

and proceeded to crop the royal locks. Robert of Meulan was the next

victim to be sacrificed to the bishop’s reforming zeal. And by this time

the rest of the royal household and the congregation, anticipating a

positive order from the king, began to vie with one another as to which

should be shorn first; and soon they were trampling under foot as vile

refuse the locks which a few moments before they had cherished as their

most precious possessions.[102]

The reader may, perhaps, be left to judge for himself as to the amount

of credibility to be attached to the highly colored and obviously

strongly prejudiced narrative of Ordericus Vitalis which has here been

paraphrased. It clearly has a significance of its own, quite apart from

the question of strict historical veracity. The speech of Bishop Serlo,

as we have it, is, of course, not his at all, but a literary creation of

the monk of Saint-Évroul. Yet it must pretty faithfully represent the

contemporary point of view of the Norman clergy and of royal apologists

generally. It sets forth the king’s ‘platform,’ to borrow a very modern

term, and contains the grounds on which contemporaries attempted to

justify what was in reality an unjustifiable act of aggression. Moreover,

in spite of much imaginary coloring, there must be a certain residuum of

truth in Ordericus’s narrative, which illustrates again in a striking

manner the extreme care and almost endless detail with which Henry I

prepared his way for the conquest of Normandy. In spite of the mediaeval

trappings, there is something almost modern about this elaborate attempt

to manipulate public opinion and to crystallize a party. Further, it

is not a little significant that the Easter scene at Carentan could

have been enacted at all. That Henry should have been able to land an

invading army at Barfleur, advance without opposition to an unprotected

village, and there delay at will in all security, is a striking proof of

the defenceless condition of the duchy. The duke’s sole reliance was in

his strongholds. There is no evidence that he had any force assembled to

oppose the invader in the open.

King Henry had no need to hurry. While he delayed at Carentan, his

supporters in Normandy rallied around him, and his forces gained greatly

in strength. His landing at Barfleur had been the signal for further

desertions among the duke’s vassals. English gold and silver were

all-powerful.[103] Wace says the king had ‘bushels’ of the precious

treasure. He carried it about with him in ‘hogsheads’ loaded upon carts,

and by its judicious distribution among barons, castellans, and doughty

warriors, he readily persuaded them to desert their lord the duke.[104]

Meanwhile, Henry sent envoys to King Philip of France,[105] and summoned

his allies, Geoffrey Martel and Helias of La Flèche, to join him with

their Angevins and Manceaux.[106]

The military events of the campaign which followed are obscure, and can

be traced with little chronological certainty. We hear of some sort of

hostile encounter at Maromme near Rouen shortly after Easter, but we

know nothing about it, save that a certain knight in the service of

Robert d’Estouteville was slain.[107] The chief military undertaking of

the campaign was undoubtedly the siege of Bayeux. Against Bayeux and its

commander, Gontier d’Aunay, the king had a particular grievance because

of the capture and imprisonment of his supporter Robert Fitz Hamon.[108]

Accordingly, he assembled all his forces, including his allies from Maine

and Anjou, and laid siege to Bayeux.[109] Gontier d’Aunay went out to

meet him and promptly handed over his prisoner, Robert Fitz Hamon. He

declined, however, to make any further concessions, and Henry refused to

raise the siege.[110] But the garrison failed to justify the confidence

which their commander had placed in them,[111] and, in an assault, Henry

managed to fire the city.[112] A high wind carried the flames from roof

to roof, and soon the whole place was swept by the conflagration. Bishop

Odo’s beautiful cathedral and several other churches, the house of the

canons attached to the cathedral, the house of a distinguished citizen

named Conan, almost all the buildings in the town, in fact, except a

few poor huts, were destroyed. Many of the inhabitants, who in their

terror had fled to the cathedral, perished in the flames. The place was

given over to be plundered by the Manceaux and the Angevins, and Gontier

d’Aunay and many of the garrison were taken captive.[113]

Caen was the next important place to fall into Henry’s hands; but here

no siege was necessary. The fate of Bayeux had spread consternation

throughout the duchy, and served as a terrible warning of what might be

expected, if resistance proved unsuccessful; and the burgesses of Caen

had little love for the duke, who had made them feel the weight of his

exactions. Accordingly, a conspiracy was formed among certain of the

leading citizens, Enguerran de Lacy and the ducal garrison were expelled,

and the town was basely surrendered to the English, to the intense

indignation of the common people, among whom the duke appears to have

been popular.[114] Robert Curthose was himself in Caen at the time, and,

learning of the plot at the last moment, he fled headlong to the Hiémois.

His attendants, who followed closely after him, were held up at the gate,

and his baggage was rifled.[115] In grateful appreciation of this easy

conquest, the king conferred the manor of Dallington, in England, upon

the wealthy burgesses who had betrayed the second town of Normandy into

his hands.[116]

Having gained possession of Bayeux and Caen, the king marched upon the

strong castle of Falaise. But at this moment he temporarily lost the

powerful support of the count of Maine. “At the request of the Normans,”

it is not said of what Normans, Helias of La Flèche withdrew from the

contest; and Henry found his forces so weakened that he was obliged to

abandon the attack upon Falaise until the following year. Some desultory

fighting occurred, however, in which one of the king’s knights, Roger of

Gloucester, was mortally wounded by a shaft from a crossbow.[117] Almost

simultaneously, apparently, with the operations about Falaise, Robert and

Henry attempted to make peace. In the week of Pentecost (21-28 May), they

met in conference at the village of Cintheaux near Falaise and endeavored

for two days to arrive at an agreement. But the king was prepared to

offer no terms which the duke could accept, and the negotiations were

broken off.[118]

There was, indeed, no good reason why Henry should have made peace,

except to gain time while he reëquipped himself for the completion of the

enterprise upon which he had embarked. The sources speak specifically

only of the conquest of Bayeux and of Caen during the campaign of 1105.

Yet it is certain that the extension of the king’s domination through the

influence of English gold and through the voluntary surrender of numerous

minor strongholds had gone much further than this.[119] Eadmer, writing

of the situation as he himself saw it in Normandy in July 1105, was

able to say that almost all Normandy had been subjected to the king. The

power of the duke had been reduced to such a point that hardly any one

obeyed him or rendered him the respect due to a prince. Almost all the

barons spurned his authority and betrayed the fealty which they owed him,

while they ran after the king’s gold and silver and surrendered towns and

castles on every side.[120] Yet with all his success, Henry was unable to

complete the conquest of Normandy in a single campaign. Even hogsheads

may be drained, and the method of waging war with gold and silver, as

well as with the sword, had been costly. Before completing his task, he

found it necessary to return to England and replenish his supplies.[121]

But before returning to England, Henry had a diplomatic problem of great

importance to solve. Since 1103 Anselm had been living in exile, and

the investiture controversy had been in abeyance. But the archbishop

had at last grown restive and had decided to resort to the extreme

measure of excommunicating the king. Rumor of the impending sentence

spread throughout France, England, and Normandy, and caused not a

little uneasiness.[122] In the midst of his struggle for Normandy with

Robert Curthose, Henry could not but view this new danger with grave

concern; and he never showed to better advantage than in the broad and

statesmanlike way in which he met the crisis. Through the mediation of

Ivo of Chartres and of the king’s sister, Countess Adela of Blois, a

conference was arranged between him and the archbishop, to be held on 22

July at Laigle on the Norman frontier. There he received Anselm with the

utmost courtesy, and, since he was in no position to drive matters to a

rupture, he showed himself sincerely desirous of arriving at an amicable

adjustment. Anselm, too, was disposed to compromise; and they were soon

able to agree upon the broad lines of a final settlement of the long

controversy. Messengers were despatched to Rome by both the king and the

archbishop to secure the ratification of the Holy See.[123] The details

of a formal concordat had yet to be arranged; but friendly relations were

now completely restored between Henry and Anselm, and the ecclesiastical

crisis was averted. In August[124] the king returned to England, “and

what he had won in Normandy continued afterwards in peace and obedient to

him, except those who dwelt anywhere near Count William of Mortain.”[125]

In point of fact, William of Mortain and Robert of Bellême appear to

have been almost the only really powerful barons in Normandy who still

supported the duke, and the loyalty even of the Bellême interests could

probably have been shaken had the king so desired. Before Christmas

Robert of Bellême paid a visit to England and sought an interview with

the king. It would be hazardous to infer that he, too, was contemplating

a desertion of the ducal cause; but whatever his mission, he failed

to accomplish it, and, departing from the king’s Christmas court

‘unreconciled,’ he returned to Normandy.[126]

It was not long before the king had a more important visitor from beyond

the sea. Early in 1106 Robert Curthose himself crossed the Channel, and,

in an interview with the king at Northampton, besought him to restore

the conquests which he had won from him in Normandy.[127] The duke must

have felt his situation almost desperate, yet it is difficult to imagine

what inducements he expected to offer, or how, in the light of his

past experience, he could have dreamed of gaining a concession or any

consideration from his unscrupulous brother. Henry could well afford to

be obdurate, and he returned a flat refusal to the duke’s demands. Robert

withdrew in anger, and returned to his duchy;[128] and Henry wrote

immediately to Anselm, who was still in Normandy, announcing his own

crossing for 3 May following. It is not quite easy to see why he should

have stated in his letter that Robert had parted with him amicably,[129]

but the ways of diplomacy are often obscure.

Robert Curthose now knew beyond all question what he had to expect, and,

as formerly in the crisis of his struggle with William Rufus, he sought

aid from without. If the unsupported statement of William of Malmesbury

may be accepted, he appealed to his overlord, the king of France, and

to Robert of Flanders in a conference at Rouen;[130] but the far-seeing

diplomacy of Henry I had anticipated him,[131] and he was able to obtain

no assistance.

Meanwhile, Henry had completed his preparations for a second invasion

of Normandy, and “before August”[132] he crossed the Channel. He landed

without opposition, but soon afterwards, apparently, an attempt was

made to take him in an ambush. Abbot Robert of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives,

the notorious simoniac, entered into a secret compact with the duke and

some of his barons at Falaise to betray the king into their hands. Then,

while Reginald of Warenne and the younger Robert d’Estouteville, with a

considerable body of knights, installed themselves in the fortress which

the abbot had constructed within the precincts of his monastery, he paid

a visit to the king at Caen and treacherously agreed to surrender the

fortress to him, at the same time advising him to come quietly with but

a few knights to take it, in order to avoid giving the alarm. But Henry

did not ride blindly into the trap that was set for him. Placing himself

at the head of a force of seven hundred horse, he came suddenly upon the

monastery at daybreak after an all night’s ride; and, as soon as he had

apprised himself of the true situation, he launched an instant attack,

burned both the monastery and the fortress, and took Reginald of Warenne,

Robert d’Estouteville, and many of their men captive. Reënforcements on

their way from Falaise saw the conflagration and turned back in flight.

The attempted ambush had been turned into a notable royal victory. The

treacherous Abbot Robert was also taken. Thrown across a horse ‘like a

sack,’ he was brought before the king, who expelled him from the land

with the declaration that, if it were not for his sacred orders, he would

have him torn limb from limb.[133]

As we have noted, the duke’s power was in the main confined to scattered

strongholds such as Falaise and Rouen.[134] Through the open country

Henry was able to move about practically at will. He went to Bec and

had a cordial interview with Anselm (15 August). Much progress had

been made towards the settlement of the investiture controversy since

their meeting at Laigle the year before, and they were now completely

reconciled. Anselm returned to England disposed to give the king his

full support.[135] Every moral obstacle now seemed removed from Henry’s

path.[136]

Meanwhile, or soon after,[137] the king began operations against

the castle of Tinchebray. Adopting the well known expedient of the

siegecraft of the period, he erected a counter fortress against the

place, and installed in it Thomas de Saint-Jean with a garrison of

knights and foot soldiers. Thereupon William of Mortain, lord of

Tinchebray, collected forces which were more than a match for Thomas de

Saint-Jean and his men, and threw food and necessary supplies into the

stronghold.[138] But by this time the king had been powerfully reënforced

with auxiliary troops from Maine and Brittany, under the command of

Helias of La Flèche and of Alan Fergant,[139] and he began the siege of

Tinchebray in earnest.[140]

Robert Curthose, now reduced to desperate straits, and urged on by the

importunity of William of Mortain,[141] decided to stake all on the issue

of a battle in the open.[142] Collecting all his forces, he marched upon

Tinchebray and challenged the king to raise the siege or prepare for

battle.[143] Again, as at Alton in 1101, the two brothers stood facing

one another, about to engage in a fratricidal struggle. But again there

were negotiations. Certain men of religion, the venerable hermit Vitalis

among them, intervened to prevent the conflict.[144] The king, as always,

was careful to justify himself before the public eye; and, if we can

trust our authority, he offered terms of peace. Protesting loudly that

he was actuated by no worldly ambition, but only by a desire to succor

the poor and to protect the suffering church, he proposed that the duke

surrender to him all the castles in Normandy and the whole financial and

judicial administration of the duchy, reserving for himself one half of

the revenues. Henry, on his side, would undertake to pay the duke, out of

the English treasury, an annual subsidy equal to the other half of the

Norman revenues; and, for the future, Robert might revel in feasts and

games and all delights, in perfect security and in freedom from all care.

Such terms, if indeed they were ever really proposed, were in themselves

an insult. And, moreover, the duke had already had bitter experience

of Henry’s devotion to treaties. The monk of Saint-Évroul, therefore,

becomes quite incredible when he would have us believe that Robert laid

these proposals seriously before his council, and insinuates that he was

inclined to accede to them. In any case, the duke’s supporters rejected

them with violent language, and negotiations were broken off.[145] Both

sides now prepared for battle.

The sources are by no means clear, or in perfect accord, as to the exact

disposition of the forces in the battle of Tinchebray; but the general

plan of the engagement is clear,[146] as is also the very considerable

numerical superiority which the king enjoyed.[147] The forces on either

side were composed of both mounted knights and foot soldiers;[148]

and, so far as it is possible to say from the evidence, they were

arranged in columns of successive divisions, called _acies_, drawn up

one behind another.[149] William of Mortain commanded the vanguard

of the ducal forces, and Robert of Bellême the rear.[150] It is not

clear what position the duke held in the battle formation.[151] Our

information as to the disposition of the royal forces is fuller, but

confusing. The first division, or _acies_, was composed in the main of

foot soldiers from the Bessin, the Avranchin, and the Cotentin—probably

under the command of Ranulf of Bayeux[152]—but they were supported by

a considerable body of mounted knights. The second division, under the

immediate command of King Henry, was likewise made up of both mounted

knights and men fighting on foot, the latter in this case being the king

in person and a considerable number of his barons who had dismounted in

order to give greater stability to the line.[153] A further division

of some sort may have been placed in reserve in the rear.[154] Most

important of all, the auxiliary knights from Maine and Brittany, under

the command of Helias of La Flèche and Alan Fergant, were stationed on

the field at some distance to one side[155] in readiness for a strategic

stroke at the proper moment.

The action was opened by William of Mortain, who charged at the head

of Robert’s vanguard;[156] and for a time the ducal forces gained a

considerable advantage and pushed the royal van back at several points.

But they were unable to gain a decision; and while the opposing forces

were locked together in a great mêlée of hand-to-hand encounters, the

Bretons and the Manceaux charged impetuously from their distant position,

and, falling upon the flank of the ducal forces, cut them in two and

wrought great havoc among the foot soldiers.[157] Robert of Bellême,

seeing which way the battle was going, saved himself by flight; and the

forces of the duke thereupon dissolved in a general rout.[158]

Robert Curthose was captured by Waldric, the king’s chancellor,

who, though a cleric, had taken his place among the knights in the

battle.[159] The Bretons captured William of Mortain and were with

some difficulty persuaded to surrender their prize to the king. Robert

d’Estouteville, William de Ferrières, William Crispin, Edgar Atheling,

and many others were also taken prisoners.[160] Henry pardoned some,

including the Atheling, and set them at liberty, but others he kept in

confinement for the rest of their lives.[161] A considerable number

of the duke’s foot soldiers had been slain, and many more had been

captured.[162] But the casualties among the king’s forces had been

negligible. “Hardly two” of his men had been killed, while “only one,”

Robert de Bonebos, had been wounded.[163] The battle had been joined at

about nine o’clock in the morning, probably on the 29th of September[164]

1106. It had lasted “barely an hour,”[165] yet it deserves to rank among

the decisive battles of the twelfth century, for it had settled the fate

of Normandy and of Robert Curthose.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Ordericus, iv, p. 116.

[2] “Nec simul, sed separatim variisque temporibus, de multimodis

violatae fidei reatibus implacitavit.” Ordericus, iv, p. 161.

[3] _Ibid._, pp. 167-168. He died on the way. For Ivo’s flight from

Antioch during the First Crusade, see _supra_, p. 107, n. 88.

[4] Ordericus, iv, pp. 161, 167.

[5] “Diligenter enim eum fecerat per unum annum explorari, et

vituperabiles actus per privatos exploratores caute investigari,

summopereque litteris annotari.” _Ibid._, pp. 169-170; cf. Florence of

Worcester, ii, p. 50.

[6] Probably the Easter court at Winchester. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1102.

[7] Ordericus, iv, p. 170; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 50.

[8] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1102; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 51.

[9] Ordericus, iv, pp. 161, 169-177; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1102; Florence

of Worcester, ii, pp. 49-50; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234; William of

Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 472-473; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp.

445-446. For a much fuller account of the expulsion of Robert of Bellême,

and for its significance in English history, see Freeman, _William

Rufus_, ii, pp. 415-450.

[10] Ordericus, iv, pp. 177-178; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 50-51;

William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 473.

[11] Ordericus, iv, p. 178.

[12] _Ibid._, p. 98.

[13] Cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 473; Ordericus, iv, p.

177.

[14] Ordericus, iv, pp. 171-172.

[15] _Ibid._, p. 172.

[16] Ordericus, iv, pp. 176, 177.

[17] _Ibid._, pp. 178-179.

[18] _Ibid._, p. 179.

[19] Ordericus Vitalis gives the date of these events as “mense Iunio,”

probably 1103. The nuns of Almenèches were dispersed, Abbess Emma

with three of her associates taking refuge at Saint-Évroul. It is not

improbable that Ordericus got much of his information from her. _Ibid._,

pp. 179-180; cf. pp. 182-183.

[20] Ordericus, iv, p. 180. Exmes was in the keeping of Mauger Malherbe,

who had been placed there by Roger de Lacy, the duke’s _magister militum_.

[21] _Ibid._, pp. 180-181.

[22] _Ibid._, pp. 181-182.

[23] Ordericus, iv, p. 192; cf. pp. 162-163, 200. The terms of the treaty

are not recorded, except that apparently the duke conceded to Robert of

Bellême “the castle of Argentan, the bishopric of Séez, and the forest

of Gouffern.” Inasmuch as the duke had originally made this grant before

the expedition against England in 1101 (_supra_, p. 127 and n. 30), it

seems evident that at some time during the struggle with Bellême he had

revoked it, and that now, upon making peace, he was obliged to restore

it or confirm it. Ordericus charges repeatedly that in making this peace

without consulting Henry I, the duke acted in direct violation of the

treaty of Alton. Ordericus, iv, pp. 162, 192, 200.

[24] _Ibid._, p. 192.

[25] He died on 12 January, probably in 1103. _Ibid._, ii, p. 407; iv,

pp. 183, 185. Robert of Torigny gives the date of his death as 9 January

1099. _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, ed. Léopold Delisle (Rouen,

1872-73), ii, p. 154. But this is clearly an error, since he was present

at the dedication of the church of Saint-Évroul in October 1099, and

since he was at Winchester in August 1100, when Henry I seized the royal

treasure after the death of William Rufus.

[26] Ordericus, iv, p. 185; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in

William of Jumièges, p. 290.

[27] _Supra_, pp. 76, 78.

[28] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p.

290; Ordericus, iv, p. 186.

[29] Ordericus, iv, pp. 186-187.

[30] _Ibid._, p. 187; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William

of Jumièges, pp. 290, 308.

[31] Ordericus, iv, p. 190.

[32] Ordericus, iv, p. 191.

[33] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p.

285; Ordericus, iv, p. 78; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 461;

Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 438.

[34] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p.

285.

[35] _Ibid._; Ordericus, iv, p. 78; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 438.

[36] Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 184) says she died ‘in Lent,’ probably in

1102. Cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 461; _Interpolations de

Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285.

[37] Ordericus, iv, pp. 184-185. Her tomb in the nave of the great church

was covered with a slab of white marble bearing her epitaph, which has

been preserved in Ordericus Vitalis.

[38] _G. R._, ii, p. 461.

[39] Ordericus, iv, pp. 184, 473.

[40] “Vixit autem in Normannia parvo tempore, invidia et factione

quorumdam nobilium feminarum decepta.” _Interpolations de Robert de

Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285.

[41] Ordericus, iv, pp. 161-162; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 448.

[42] _Ibid._, pp. 448-449; Ordericus, iv, p. 162; _A.-S.C._, _a._ 1103;

Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 52; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234.

[43] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 449.

[44] The foregoing details have been drawn from Ordericus (iv, pp.

162-163) and from Wace (_Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 449-454), the only

writers who report this episode with any fulness. They are not in

complete accord, yet on the whole they confirm and support one another

to a remarkable degree. Ordericus endeavors to justify the king at every

point. Wace, on the other hand, sees the king’s action in its true light,

but he adds many details which are probably imaginative. Ordericus

makes no mention of the part played by the queen; but Wace makes this

a leading feature of the episode. Can this be mere embroidery on the

brief statement of William of Malmesbury: “Porro ille, quasi cum fortuna

certaret utrum plus illa daret an ipse dispergeret, sola voluntate

reginae tacite postulantis comperta, tantam massam argenti benignus in

perpetuum ignovit; acclines foeminei fastus preces pro magno exosculatus;

erat enim eius in baptismo filiola”? _G. R._, ii, p. 462.

[45] _Ibid._, p. 474. The same notion finds expression in Wace, not as a

fact, but as a current opinion. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 448.

[46] Even Ordericus Vitalis cannot conceal it.

[47] _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 451.

[48] Ordericus, iv, p. 163.

[49] Haskins, pp. 286-287, no. 3.

[50] Cf. _supra_, p. 127, and n. 30.

[51] _Supra_, p. 144.

[52] Ordericus, iv, p. 192.

[53] _Infra_, pp. 161-164.

[54] Ordericus, iv, p. 215; _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 155.

[55] Ordericus, iv, p. 116. Bishop Fulcher died 29 January 1102.

[56] _Ibid._, pp. 116-117; Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 157, and cf.

no. 149, in _H. F._, xv, pp. 134, 131.

[57] _Ibid._, no. 157.

[58] Ordericus, iv, p. 117.

[59] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 157, in _H. F._, xv. p. 134.

[60] _Ibid._

[61] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 157, in _H. F._, xv, p. 134.

[62] _Ibid._, no. 153.

[63] _Ibid._, no. 157.

[64] _Ibid._; Ordericus, iv, p. 117.

[65] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 153, in _H. F._, xv, p. 133.

[66] _Ibid._, no. 157; Ordericus, iv, p. 117.

[67] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 154, in _H. F._, xv, pp. 133-134.

[68] It does not appear that the duke was seriously involved in the

ecclesiastical controversy over Thorold, the appointee of William Rufus

to the see of Bayeux after the death of Bishop Odo. On 8 October,

apparently 1104, Pascal II wrote to the clergy and people of Bayeux

announcing the condemnation of Thorold because, among other things, he

had failed to keep his promise to King Henry not to receive investiture

from Duke Robert: “Pro his igitur omnibus pro fide etiam non accipiendi a

Normannorum comite honoris aecclesiastici ante conspectum Anglici regis

data depositionis in eum erat promenda sententia.” “Lettre inédite de

Pascal II,” ed. Germain Morin, in _Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique_,

v (1904), pp. 284-285. But the execution of the sentence was delayed

for a long period, and the Pope satisfied himself that Thorold had not

received investiture from the duke. _Epistolae Paschalis_, in Migne,

clxiii, col. 188. Thorold was deposed, however, upon other grounds,

apparently in 1107. Ordericus, iv, p. 18; Morin, in _Revue d’histoire

ecclésiastique_, v, pp. 286-288. For an exhaustive discussion of all that

is known and for many conjectures about Thorold, see Wilhelm Tavernier,

“Beiträge zur Rolandsforschung,” in _Zeitschrift für französiche Sprache

und Litteratur_, xxxvii, pp. 103-124; xxxviii, pp. 117-135; xxxix, pp.

133-151. Tavernier believes that Thorold was the author of the _Chanson

de Roland_.

[69] _Epistolae Paschalis_, in Migne, clxiii, col. 81.

[70] “Nosti quia eidem comiti debemus auxilium pro laboribus quos

in Asianae Ecclesiae liberatione laboravit. Idcirco volumus ut, si

necdum inter eos pax composita est, te satagente, nostris nuntiis

intervenientibus, componatur.”

[71] _Infra_, pp. 168-169.

[72] A letter discovered by Wilhelm Levison in the British Museum

(Harleian MSS., 633) and published in _Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft

für ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde_, xxxv (1909), p. 427. Reprinted by

Léopold Delisle, in _Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes_, lxxi, p. 466.

[73] _Supra_, p. 122.

[74] _Infra_, p. 180.

[75] Thomas Rymer, _Foedera_, ed. Record Commission (London, 1816-69),

i, p. 7, _ex originali_, but incomplete and fragmentary; _Liber Niger

Scaccarii_, ed. Thomas Hearne, 2d ed. (London, 1771), i, pp. 7-15. The

original, though very badly damaged, is still extant in the Public

Record Office. The document itself is dated 10 March at Dover; and a

reference in Eadmer (p. 146) seems to fix it in the year 1103. Cf. J. M.

Lappenberg, _Geschichte von England_ (Hamburg, 1834-37), ii, pp. 240-241;

Freeman, _Norman Conquest_, v, pp. 850-851; Henri Pirenne, _Histoire de

Belgique_, 3d ed. (Brussels, 1909), i, p. 102. The treaty of 1103 is

but one of a series of similar agreements beginning with the original

grant of a money fief by the Conqueror to Count Baldwin V (William of

Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 478) and extending to the reign of Henry

II (_Foedera_, i, pp. 6, 7, 22; _Liber Niger_, i, pp. 7-34). All these

agreements, and especially the one of 1103, are being studied by Dr.

Robert H. George in a work on the relations of England and Flanders.

Harvard doctoral dissertation, 1916.

[76] _Infra_, pp. 164, 165, 167, 172, 174-175.

[77] _Supra_, pp. 145-146.

[78] Ordericus, iv, pp. 187, 418; v, p. 4; _Interpolations de Robert de

Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 307.

[79] _Supra_, pp. 145-146.

[80] _Supra_, p. 140.

[81] Ordericus, ii, p. 404, n. 6.

[82] _Ibid._, iv, p. 198; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in

William of Jumièges, p. 327.

[83] Ordericus, iv, pp. 198-199.

[84] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 455-459; cf. p. 444.

[85] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 473-474; _A.-S. C._, _a._

1104; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 53; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 234-235;

_Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307; cf. Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p.

445.

[86] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1104; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234.

[87] Ordericus, iv, p. 199. No other writer mentions the journey of Henry

I to Normandy in 1104; and it is not clear that Ordericus is wholly

trustworthy at this point, though his testimony is too specific to be

rejected. He treats the campaigns of 1105 and 1106 together in a most

confusing manner.

[88] Ordericus, iv, pp. 199-201.

[89] _Ibid._, pp. 201-202.

[90] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 470. He tells the story with much

picturesque detail. He is in the main confirmed by Ordericus, iv, pp.

203-204.

[91] Ordericus, iv, p. 214.

[92] _Ibid._, p. 206.

[93] _Ibid._, pp. 203, 206, 219, 401; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 469.

[94] Ordericus, iv, pp. 219, 401.

[95] _Ibid._, pp. 203, 222-223.

[96] _Ibid._, p. 206.

[97] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 461-463.

[98] Ordericus, iv, p. 204; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1105; cf. Henry of

Huntingdon, p. 235; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 53.

[99] Ordericus, iv, p. 204.

[100] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 460-461.

[101] Normandy now becomes the _solum natale_ of King Henry!

[102] Ordericus, iv, pp. 204-210.

[103] “Omnes igitur ferme Normannorum maiores illico ad regis adventum,

spreto comite domino suo, et fidem quam ei debebant postponentes, in

aurum et argentum regis cucurrerunt, eique civitates castra et urbes

tradiderunt.” Eadmer, p. 165; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54.

[104] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 460.

[105] Ordericus, iv, p. 210.

[106] _Ibid._; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 461.

[107] Ordericus, iv, pp. 214-215. A charter in favor of St. Mary of Bec,

attested by Hugh d’Envermeu “in obsidione ante Archas,” not improbably

belongs to this year, and indicates that military operations were

undertaken against Arques. Round, _C. D. F._, no. 393.

[108] _Supra_, p. 159.

[109] Ordericus, iv, p. 219; _Annales de Saint-Aubin_, in _Recueil

d’annales angevines et vendômoises_, ed. Halphen, p. 44; Henry of

Huntingdon, p. 235; _Versus Serlonis de Capta Baiocensium Civilate_,

in _H. F._, xix, pp. xci, xciii. On this poem and its author see the

exhaustive study by Heinrich Böhmer, “Der sogenannte Serlo von Bayeux und

die ihm zugeschriebenen Gedichte,” in _Neues Archiv_, xxii, pp. 701-738.

[110] Ordericus, iv, p. 219.

[111] _Versus Serlonis_, in _H. F._, xix, p. xciv.

[112] Ordericus, iv, p. 219; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54; _Annales

de Saint-Aubin_, in Halphen, _Annales_, p. 44; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii,

p. 471.

[113] _Versus Serlonis_, in _H. F._, xix, pp. xci ff.; Ordericus, iv, p.

219; Wace. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 471; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii,

p. 54. Wace’s account of the siege of Bayeux is elaborate, and credits

the city with a long and stubborn resistance. But in the absence of all

evidence to this effect in the other sources, and in the face of the

positive testimony of the poet Serlo, an eyewitness, that the defence was

weak and cowardly on the part of both garrison and inhabitants, Wace’s

view cannot be accepted.

[114] Ordericus, iv, pp. 219-220; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 473-479;

cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii,

pp. 462-463. Wace gives an elaborate account of the conspiracy, which

is perhaps worth summarizing. Thierry, son of Ralph Fitz Ogier, and

several other citizens of Caen had been ambushed and captured by Robert

of Saint-Rémy-des-Landes at Cagny in the Hiémois while travelling home

from Argences; Robert of Saint-Rémy had taken his prisoners to Torigny

and sold them for a great price to Robert Fitz Hamon; who, in turn,

surrendered them to the king, in exchange for the grant of Caen as a fief

to be held by himself and his heirs forever. The king was delighted over

the acquisition of these prisoners, “riches homes de Caan nez,” for he

saw in them the possibility of gaining Caen without striking a blow. A

convention was quickly agreed upon. Henry promised to free the prisoners

and to enrich them with lands and goods; and they undertook to deliver

Caen into his hands. And to seal the bargain, they gave hostages, “filz e

nevoz de lor lignages.” Great precautions were taken to deceive “la gent

menue”;

Kar se la povre gent seust

Que l’ovre aler issi deust,

La li reis Caan nen eust,

Que grant barate n’i eust,

though many prominent burgesses were involved in the conspiracy, and

treason was spreading far and wide throughout the city before the duke

got wind of it. Then, with the king’s men from the Bessin close at hand,

and desertion general among the citizens, Robert had no choice but to

flee by the Porte Milet to the Hiémois, leaving his baggage behind to be

ransacked at the gate.

[115] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 478; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._,

ii, p. 463.

[116] Ordericus, iv, pp. 219-220; cf. Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 476.

[117] Ordericus, iv, p. 220; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p.

475. The fact that the attack upon Falaise belongs to the campaign of

1105 is definitely established by a charter of donation by Roger to St.

Peter’s, Gloucester: “Anno Domini millesimo centesimo quinto, Rogerus de

Gloucestria miles, a pud Waleyson graviter vulneratus…” _Hist. et Cart.

S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 69.

[118] Ordericus, iv, pp. 220-221.

[119] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1105: “and almost all the castles and chief men

there in the land became subject to him”; cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235.

[120] Eadmer, p. 165.

[121] “Rex enim ipse a Normannia digressus, quia earn totam eo quo supra

diximus modo sibi subiugare nequierat, reversus in Angliam est, ut,

copiosiori pecunia fretus rediens, quod residuum erat, exhaeredato fratre

suo, subiiceret.” _Ibid._, p. 171; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54.

[122] Eadmer, p. 166.

[123] Eadmer, pp. 165-166; cf. G. B. Adams, _History of England from the

Norman Conquest to the Death of John_ (London, 1905), pp. 141-142.

[124] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1105.

[125] _Ibid._, _a._ 1105.

[126] _Ibid._, _a._ 1106.

[127] _Ibid._, _a._ 1106; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; Florence of

Worcester, ii, p. 54. The place of the interview is further established

by Henry’s letter to Anselm which ends: “Teste W. Cancell. apud

Northamptonem.” _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 77, in Migne, clix, col.

240.

[128] References as in n. 127, _supra_.

[129] _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 77, in Migne, clix, col. 240.

[130] _G. R._, ii, p. 463.

[131] Cf. _supra_, pp. 155-156.

[132] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54; Henry of

Huntingdon, p. 235. Though Henry’s original intention had been to cross

at Ascension (3 May) (_Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 77, in Migne,

clix, col. 240), it is clear from the _Chronicle_ that he was still in

England at Pentecost (13 May). The phrase ‘before August’ used by the

sources would seem to point to a crossing in the latter part of July.

[133] Ordericus, iv, pp. 215, 223-224; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales

Monastici_, ii, p. 42. The chronology of Ordericus is confused. Abbot

Fulk, predecessor of the simoniac Robert, is said to have died at

Winchester 3 April 1105. _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 155;

Ordericus, iv, p. 19, and n. 2; p. 215, and n. 2. Henry’s destruction of

the abbey must, therefore, be referred to 1106, since it would have been

impossible for Abbot Robert to have gained possession of the monastery

and to have erected a fortress in it while Henry was still in Normandy in

the previous summer, the king having returned to England in August. This

conclusion is confirmed by the Annals of Winchester: “MCVI. Hoc anno rex

in Normanniam duxit exercitum, et veniens ad Sanctum Petrum super Divam,

abbatiam redegit in pulverem, et centum homines et eo amplius interfecit.”

[134] Cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges,

p. 283: “Rex autem Henricus, non diutius hoc ferens, maximeque indigne

ferens, quod frater suus ita paternam hereditatem, ducatum scilicet

Normanniae, dissipaverat, quod, preter civitatem Rothomagensem, nichil

pene in dominio haberet; quam etiam forsitan alicui ut cetera dedisset,

si hoc sibi licitum propter cives ipsius fuisset.” This is doubtless an

exaggerated statement, but it is not without significance.

[135] Eadmer, pp. 182-183; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55.

[136] The Pope was clearly no longer supporting the crusader against the

king. William of Malmesbury goes so far as to say that Pascal wrote to

Henry urging him on to the fratricidal conflict. _G. R._, ii, p. 474.

[137] The operations before Tinchebray, such as they are described, must

have extended over a considerable period before the decisive battle,

which was fought on or about 29 September.

[138] Ordericus, iv, pp. 224-225.

[139] _Ibid._, pp. 229-230; letter of a priest of Fécamp to a priest

of Séez, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; Dom

Morice, _Preuves_, i, col. 129; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii,

p. 478. Henry of Huntingdon mentions the presence also of Angevins, but

this is probably an error.

[140] Ordericus, iv, p. 225; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_,

in William of Jumièges, p. 283; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of

Worcester, ii, p. 55; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235.

[141] Ordericus, iv, p. 225.

[142] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 463: “ad bellum publicum

venit, ultimam fortunam experturus.”

[143] Ordericus, iv, p. 225; cf. letter of Henry I to Anselm, in Eadmer,

p. 184; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; Henry

of Huntingdon, p. 235; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475;

_Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283.

[144] Ordericus, iv, pp. 226-227.

[145] Ordericus, iv, pp. 227-228. Henry did not fail to propitiate the

Almighty. He released Reginald of Warenne from prison—to the great

satisfaction of William of Warenne, his brother, who now became a more

enthusiastic royal supporter than ever—and made a vow to rebuild the

church which he had burned at Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. _Ibid._, p. 229.

The Hyde _Chronicle_ is doubtless in error in stating that Reginald of

Warenne was captured at Tinchebray and later released at the request of

his brother. _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307.

[146] See Appendix F.

[147] It is hardly worth while to discuss the numbers engaged in the

battle, since mediaeval figures are not to be relied upon. Cf. _E. H.

R._, xviii, pp. 625-629. The estimate of the priest of Fécamp (_E. H.

R._, xxv, p. 296), placing the king’s forces at 40,000 and the duke’s at

6000, of which 700 were knights, is doubtless an exaggeration. It is good

evidence, however, of the king’s numerical superiority, which is also

indicated by Henry of Huntingdon (p. 235). Ordericus Vitalis grants that

the duke was inferior to the king in knights, but asserts that he had

more foot soldiers.

[148] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Eadmer, p. 184; Ordericus, iv, pp. 226,

230; cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges,

p. 283; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235.

[149] See Appendix F.

[150] Ordericus, iv, p. 230.

[151] The statement of J. D. Drummond that he held the foot soldiers

in reserve in the distant rear behind the forces of Robert of Bellême

(_Kriegsgeschichte Englands_, p. 40), is based upon pure conjecture. C.

W. C. Oman (_Art of War_, p. 379), adopting the view of a line formation,

asserts, equally without authority, that Robert Curthose held the centre

between William of Mortain and Robert of Bellême.

[152] “primam aciem rexit Rannulfus Baiocensis; secundam Rodbertus comes

Mellentensis; tertiam vero Guillelmus de Guarenna.” Ordericus, iv, p.

229. It certainly is impossible to reconcile this statement completely

with the letter of the priest of Fécamp, but perhaps the leadership of

the first division may be accepted.

[153] Letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296:

“In prima acie fuerunt Baiocenses, Abrincatini, et Constantinienses,

omnes pedites; in secunda vero rex cum innumeris baronibus suis, omnes

similiter pedites. Ad hec septingenti equites utrique aciei ordinate”.

Also Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235: “rex namque et dux, et acies caeterae

pedites erant, ut constantius pugnarent.”

[154] Ordericus, iv, p. 229.

[155] _Ibid._, pp. 229-230: “Cenomannos autem et Britones longe in campo

cum Helia consule constituit”; letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H.

R._, xxv, p. 296: “preterea comes Cenomannis et comes Britonum Alanus

Fregandus circumcingentes exercitum, usque ad mille equites, remotis

omnibus gildonibus et servis”; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235.

[156] Ordericus, iv, p. 230. But cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235: “dux

Normanniae cum paucis multos audacissime aggressus est, assuetusque

bellis Ierosolimitanis aciem regalem fortiter et horrende reppulit.

Willelmus quoque consul de Moretuil aciem Anglorum de loco in locum

turbans promovit.” This statement would seem to give some color to Oman’s

view of a line formation, but it is not convincing in the face of other

evidence. Cf. Appendix F.

[157] Ordericus, iv, p. 230; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; cf. Dom Morice,

_Preuves_, i, col. 129.

[158] Letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry

of Huntingdon, pp. 235-236; Ordericus, iv, p. 230; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._

1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._,

ii, p. 475; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307.

[159] Ordericus, iv, p. 230; cf. _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of

Huntingdon, p. 236; Eadmer, p. 184; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of

Worcester, ii, p. 55; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 463; the

same, _G. P._, p. 116; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William

of Jumièges, p. 283; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307. On Waldric

the Chancellor see H. W. C. Davis, in _E. H. R._, xxvi, pp. 84-89.

[160] Ordericus, iv, pp. 230-231; _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of

Huntingdon, p. 236; Eadmer, p. 184; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55;

_A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475;

_Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283;

_Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307.

[161] Ordericus, iv, p. 231.

[162] _Ibid._, p. 230; Eadmer, p. 184. Robert of Torigny places

the number of slain among the duke’s forces at “vix sexaginta.”

_Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284.

[163] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; cf. Eadmer, p. 184; _Interpolations de

Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284; _Chronicon_, in

_Liber de Hyda_, p. 307.

[164] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296: “iii kal. Octobris hora tertia.” The

date usually given by modern writers is 28 September. Le Prévost, in

Ordericus, iv, 228, n. 2; Davis, _Normans and Angevins_, p. 129; Adams,

_History of England from the Norman Conquest to the Death of John_,

p. 145; Le Hardy, p. 164; Fliche, _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, p. 311. It is based

upon the authority of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1106), which is

copied by Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 55), and upon the _Chronicon

Breve Fontanellense_ (_H. F._, xii, p. 771). But, in view of the explicit

statement of the priest of Fécamp, 29 September is probably the correct

date. William of Malmesbury (_G. R._, ii, p. 475) confusingly dates the

battle “sabbato in Sancti Michaelis vigilia.” Michaelmas in 1106 fell

upon Saturday. A further variation is introduced by Robert of Torigny,

who dates the battle 27 September. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_

in William of Jumièges, p. 284.

[165] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296.