LAST YEARS AND DEATH
Soon after the battle of Tinchebray Henry I wrote exultingly to Anselm,
announcing the great victory and boasting that he had captured four
hundred knights and ten thousand foot soldiers, and that the number of
slain was legion.[1] It was a pardonable exaggeration, for indeed the
battle had ended all resistance and decided the fate of Normandy. The
duke seems to have had no thought of a continuance of the struggle, and
meekly submitted to his conqueror. Henry hastened to the great stronghold
of Falaise, which had successfully defied him the year before, and at the
duke’s own command it was promptly surrendered into his hands.[2] Then he
pressed on with his captive to Rouen, where he received a cordial welcome
from the burgesses, to whom he restored the laws of the Conqueror and
all the honors which their city had previously enjoyed.[3] And, again
at the duke’s command, Hugh de Nonant handed over the citadel to the
king. The duke, too, formally absolved the fortified towns (_municipia_)
throughout all Normandy from their allegiance, and their defenders
hastened to make peace with the victor.[4] Even the king’s most bitter
enemies sought a reconciliation. Ranulf Flambard, the exiled bishop of
Durham, who had caused such a scandal in the see of Lisieux, and who was
still residing there as lord of the city (_princeps in urbe_), humbly
sent to seek peace, and, upon surrendering Lisieux, was restored to his
bishopric of Durham.[5] The terrible Robert of Bellême still boasted the
possession of thirty-four strong castles, and for a moment he seems to
have contemplated further resistance. But an appeal for aid to Helias of
La Flèche met with no encouragement; and at the advice and through the
mediation of the latter, he chose the prudent course of making peace with
Henry upon the best terms possible. By the surrender of all the ducal
domain which he had occupied illegally, he managed to obtain Argentan
and the _vicomté_ of Falaise, together with certain other possessions
which had formerly been held by his father, Roger of Montgomery.[6] But
these temporary concessions to Robert of Bellême were almost the only
ones which the king felt it necessary to make. For, while he favored
the clergy and gave peace and protection to the humble and unarmed
population, he made it his first business to curb the restless baronage.
He ordered the destruction of adulterine castles throughout the duchy.[7]
Summoning a council of magnates at Lisieux in the middle of October, he
proclaimed a royal peace, asserted his title to all the ducal domain
which Robert Curthose through extravagance or weakness had let slip from
his hands, and guaranteed to the churches and other legitimate holders
all the possessions which they had lawfully enjoyed at the time of the
Conqueror’s death.[8] Such measures brought despair to outlaws and evil
men, but they inaugurated a new era of vigorous and orderly government
which was welcomed with the utmost gratitude by all peace-loving
subjects, especially by the clergy.[9] Anselm wrote to the king, saluting
him as ‘duke,’ to congratulate him upon his splendid victory, and to
thank him for the promise of good and considerate government.[10]
Henry remained in Normandy during the autumn and winter to complete the
organization of the new régime. In January 1107 he called the nobles
together at Falaise, and in March he held another council at Lisieux,
and promulgated many important decrees for the administration of the
duchy.[11] And then, in Lent, “when he had either destroyed his enemies
or subdued them, and had disposed of Normandy according to his will,”[12]
he returned to England, and held his Easter court at Windsor.[13]
And there “both Norman and English barons were present with fear and
trembling.”[14]
Apparently the king had sent his prisoners, including the duke, on before
him to England, lest the turbulent Normans, under the guise of aiding
Robert Curthose, should break the peace.[15] And once he had them safely
across the Channel he took good care that they should never escape him.
William of Mortain, at least, was placed in close confinement for the
rest of his life; and, if Henry of Huntingdon can be trusted, he was
blinded.[16] Robert Curthose, it seems, was kept in free custody and
provided with certain comforts and even luxuries;[17] but his confinement
was not made less secure for that. According to the Annals of Winchester,
he was first imprisoned at Wareham;[18] but he was afterwards given into
the custody of the great Bishop Roger of Salisbury, who kept him in his
magnificent castle at Devizes.[19]
In 1107 King Henry’s triumph seemed complete. He was now master both in
England and in Normandy as he had never been before.[20] His conquest
of the duchy had been willingly accepted by both clergy and people. And
even Louis, the king designate of France—contrary, it may be observed,
to his father Philip’s advice—had officially ratified his action.[21]
Yet Henry’s troubles in Normandy had hardly begun, and the following
years were a period of almost incessant warfare for the maintenance of
his conquest. Hostility between him and his continental neighbors was,
indeed, inevitable. With the accession Louis VI (le Gros) to the throne
of France in 1108, the Capetians entered upon an era of royal ascendancy
which necessarily made them look with jealous eyes upon their great
feudatories, particularly the dukes of Normandy. The union of England
and Normandy brought an increase of strength and of ambition to Henry
I which rendered him dangerous not only to his overlord, the king of
France, but also to his neighbors on the north and south in Flanders and
Anjou; while in Normandy itself, the turbulent baronage soon grew restive
under the stern rule of the ‘Lion of Justice,’ and were ever ready to
ally themselves with anyone who would make common cause with them against
him. And, unfortunately for Henry, he had made one fatal mistake in his
settlement of Normandy after Tinchebray, which left a standing temptation
in the way of the disaffected Norman baronage and of his jealous
neighbors beyond the frontier.
The son of Robert Curthose, William surnamed the Clito, had fallen into
the king’s hands at the surrender of Falaise in 1106,[22] and it would
have been possible for Henry to have made away with him or to have
placed him in permanent confinement, just as he had imprisoned the duke.
But William Clito was still a child of tender years, and Henry feared
public sentiment. Rather than bear the responsibility if any evil should
befall the lad while in his hands, he placed him in ward with Helias of
Saint-Saëns, Duke Robert’s son-in-law, to be brought up and educated.[23]
Henry soon repented of this indiscretion, however, and, at the advice
of certain of his counsellors, he gave orders for the Clito to be taken
into custody. But before Robert de Beauchamp, the _vicomte_ of Arques,
who was charged with the execution of the king’s command, could carry out
his mission, friends of the child learned of the impending stroke, and
carried him away sleeping from his bed and hid him; and soon after the
stanch Helias of Saint-Saëns fled with him into exile.[24] Abandoning all
that they had in Normandy,[25] Helias and the Clito’s tutor, Tirel de
Mainières, devoted their lives to their charge,[26] finding a refuge now
here, now there, among King Henry’s enemies in France and Flanders and
Anjou.[27]
It would lead us too far afield to trace in detail the tragic career of
William Clito. But its salient features may, at least, be indicated; for
he was the last hope of the lost cause of Robert Curthose.
The Clito rapidly grew to be a youth of uncommon attractions—“mult fu
amez de chevaliers”[28]—and his pathetic story made an irresistible
appeal to the discontented and ambitious, both in Normandy and beyond the
frontiers.[29] Robert of Bellême, until he was captured in 1112 and sent
to end his days in an English prison,[30] made himself in a special way
the patron and supporter of the Clito;[31] and the cause of the injured
exile, mere child that he was, undoubtedly lay back of much of the
desultory warfare in which King Henry was involved in Normandy and on the
French frontier between 1109 and 1113. Count Robert of Flanders lost his
life fighting in Normandy in 1111,[32] and his successor, Baldwin VII,
gave an asylum to the Clito and conferred on him the arms of knighthood
in his fourteenth year.[33]
It was between the years 1117 and 1120, however, that the opponents of
King Henry’s continental ambitions first organized themselves in support
of William Clito upon a formidable scale. Louis VI had repented of his
earlier friendship for Henry I,[34] and in 1117 he entered into a sworn
alliance with Baldwin of Flanders and Fulk of Anjou to overthrow the
English rule in Normandy and place the Clito on the ducal throne.[35]
Simultaneously, a widespread revolt broke out among the Norman baronage,
and for three years Henry was involved in a formidable war, which he
conducted with characteristic vigor and success.[36] The death of Count
Baldwin eliminated Flanders from the contest.[37] Henry succeeded
in making peace and forming an alliance with Fulk of Anjou in June
1119.[38] And in the decisive battle of Brémule in the same year, the
English overwhelmed the French, and Louis VI fled from the field.[39]
But from arms the French king turned to diplomacy. He appeared with
the Clito before the council of Rheims (October 1119), and laid the
cause of Robert Curthose and of his exiled son before the assembled
prelates with such telling effect[40] that Pope Calixtus set out for
Normandy to deal in person with the English king. But Henry showed
himself as apt at diplomacy as he had been successful in arms. Meeting
the Pope at Gisors (November 1119), he welcomed him with the utmost
courtesy and with an extraordinary show of humility.[41] He provided
elaborately for his entertainment.[42] And when Calixtus arraigned him
for his unjust conduct, and, in the name of the council, called upon
him to release Robert Curthose from prison and to restore him and the
Clito to the duchy,[43] Henry replied in an elaborate speech, placing
the whole responsibility upon the duke. He declared that he had been
obliged to conquer Normandy in order to rescue it from anarchy, and that
he had offered to confer three English counties upon the Clito and to
bring him up in all honor at his court.[44] Strange to say, the Pope
professed himself entirely convinced by Henry’s assertions and declared
that “nothing could be more just than the king of England’s cause.”
But William of Malmesbury explains that the royal arguments were “well
seasoned with rich gifts.”[45] Henry had won the Pope, and through the
latter’s mediation a peace was soon arranged with Louis VI upon the basis
of mutual restitutions; and William Atheling, Henry’s son, did homage
to the king of France for Normandy (1120).[46] The Norman rebels, too,
seeing that their cause was hopeless, hastily made peace with Henry, and
at his command did homage and swore fealty to the Atheling.[47] William
Clito was deserted on almost every hand, and his cause did indeed seem
hopeless. If we can trust the chronicle of Hyde monastery, he sent
messengers to King Henry and humbly besought him to release his father
from captivity, and promised, if his request were granted, to depart with
him for Jerusalem, abandoning Normandy to the king and his heirs forever,
and never again to appear this side the Julian Alps.[48]
King Henry, we are told, treated these overtures with arrogant contempt,
as well he might in view of his victory over all his enemies. Yet before
the end of the year the loss of the Atheling on the _White Ship_ put
all his well laid plans awry, and left William Clito, his bitter enemy,
as the most direct heir of all his dominions both in Normandy and
England.[49] Soon his old enemies began to rally to the Clito’s cause;
and he was again confronted with a formidable revolt of the Norman
baronage (1123-25), which had at least the tacit support of the king
of France.[50] Fulk of Anjou, in league with the rebels, abandoned the
English alliance and conferred the county of Maine, together with the
hand of his younger daughter Sibyl, upon the Clito.[51] Though Henry
succeeded in having this marriage annulled by papal decree in 1124
upon the ground of consanguinity,[52] Louis VI continued to support
the Clito. At his Christmas court in 1126 he called upon the assembled
barons to assist the young prince.[53] Shortly thereafter he gave him the
half-sister of his own queen in marriage and conferred upon him Pontoise,
Chaumont, Mantes, and the whole of the Vexin. Before Lent 1127 the Clito
appeared at Gisors at the head of an armed force, and laid claim to
Normandy.[54] And soon afterwards the foul murder of Count Charles the
Good opened the question of the Flemish succession, and gave the king of
France, as overlord of the county, an opportunity to raise his protégé
to the throne of Flanders, although the king of England was himself a
candidate for the honor.[55] The fortunes of the Clito were now decidedly
in the ascendant, and it behooved Henry I to bestir himself to check his
progress. He crossed the Channel and began active military operations
against the Franco-Flemish alliance.[56] He sent his agents into Flanders
to distribute bribes and build up a combination against the new count.
He freely subsidized the rival claimants to the county.[57] But Henry’s
problem was soon solved for him by a civil war in which, so far as we
know, he had no part or influence. William Clito had allied himself with
the feudal aristocracy of Flanders, but he had failed to comprehend the
spirit of the progressive bourgeoisie, to whom his predecessor, Charles
the Good, had made important concessions.[58] Increasing friction with
the burgesses soon led to an insurrection, and the Clito was wounded at
the siege of Alost, late in July 1128, and died soon after.[59] That
night, Robert Curthose, we are told, lying in his distant English prison,
dreamed that he had himself been wounded in the right arm; and waking,
“Alas!” he said, with telepathic vision, “my son is dead.”[60] It was,
indeed, the end of all hope for the captive duke; and thereafter Henry I
ruled in peace in Normandy as well as England.
Of the vicissitudes of Robert Curthose during the long years of his
imprisonment we know almost nothing. A curious notice in the chronicle
of Monte Cassino for the year 1117 styles him ‘king of the English,’ and
avers that his ‘legates’ had visited the monastery, and, presenting the
monks with a precious golden chalice, had besought their prayers for
himself and his realm.[61] In 1126, upon his return from Normandy, Henry
I transferred the duke from the custody of Bishop Roger of Salisbury to
that of Earl Robert of Gloucester, who placed him in confinement at first
in his great stronghold at Bristol.[62] But later he moved him to Cardiff
castle in his Welsh lordship of Glamorgan;[63] and there, in this wild
frontier stronghold, in full view of the ‘Severn Sea’ Robert Curthose
ended his days. If we can rely upon our evidence, he took advantage of
his long imprisonment to master the Welsh language, and amused himself
with verse-making. And he appears to have left behind him a poem of no
mean order. It was extracted by the Welsh bard, Edward Williams,[64]
“from a MS. of Mr. Thomas Truman, of Pant Lliwydd (Dyer’s valley), near
Cowbridge, Glamorgan, containing, in the Welsh language, ‘An Account of
the Lords Marchers of Glamorgan from Robert Fitz Hamon down to Jasper,
Duke of Bedford,’ and written about the year 1500,”[65] and was published
in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ in 1794, from which it seems worth while to
quote it in full, together with the attribution of authorship:
Pan oedd Rhobert Tywysog Norddmanti yngharchar Ynghastell
Caerdyf, gan Robert ap Amon, medru a wnaeth ar y iaith Gymraeg;
ac o weled y Beirdd Cymreig yno ar y Gwyliau efe a’u ceris, ac
a aeth yn Fardd; a llyma englynion a gant efe.
Dar a dyfwys ar y clawdd,
Gwedi, gwaedffrau gwedi ffrawdd;
Gwae! wrth win ymtrin ymtrawdd.
Dar a dyfwys ar y glâs,
Gwedi gwaedffrau gwyr a lâs;
Gwae! wr wrth y bo ai câs.
Dar a dyfwys ar y tonn,
Gwedi gwaedffrau a briw bronn;
Gwae! a gar gwydd amryson.
Dar a dyfwys ym meillion,
A chan a’i briw ni bi gronn;
Gwae! wr wrth ei gaseion.
Dar a dyfwys ar dir pen
Gallt, ger ymdonn Mor Hafren
Gwae! wr na bai digon hên.
Dar a dyfwys yngwynnau,
A thwrf a thrin a thrangau;
Gwae! a wyl na bo Angau.
_Rhobert Tywysog Norddmanti ai Cant._
In English thus:
When Robert, duke of Normandy, was held a prisoner in Cardiff
castle by Robert Fitz Hamon, he acquired a knowledge of the
Welsh language; and, seeing the Welsh bards there on the
high festivals, he became a bard; and was the author of the
following stanzas:
Oak that hast grown up on the mound,
Since the blood-streaming, since the slaughter;
Woe! to the war of words at the wine.
Oak that hast grown up in the grass,
Since the blood-streaming of those that were slain;
Woe! to man when there are that hate him.
Oak that hast grown up on the green,
Since the streaming of blood and the rending of breasts,
Woe! to him that loves the presence of contention.
Oak that hast grown up amid the trefoil grass,
And, because of those that tore thee, hast not attained to
rotundity;
Woe! to him that is in the power of his enemies.
Oak that hast grown up on the grounds
Of the woody promontory fronting the contending waves of the
Severn sea;[66]
Woe! to him that is not old enough [to die].
Oak that hast grown up in the storms,
Amid dins, battles, and death;
Woe! to him that beholds what is not death.
_The Author Robert Duke of Normandy._[67]
Whether these lines be actually by Robert Curthose or not, they are in
their tragic pathos no inapt epitome of his misdirected career, which had
begun with such bright promise and ended in such signal disaster. ‘Woe
to him that is in the power of his enemies,’ ‘woe to him that is not old
enough to die’—often must these sentiments have haunted him during the
long years of his captivity. But his melancholy longings at last found
satisfaction. Early in February 1134 he died at Cardiff,[68] a venerable
octogenarian, and was buried before the high altar in the abbey church
of St. Peter at Gloucester.[69] Henry I piously made a donation to the
abbey, in order that a light might be kept burning perpetually before the
great altar for the good of the soul of the brother whom he had so deeply
injured.[70]
FOOTNOTES
[1] Eadmer, p. 184. The letter was written from Elbeuf-sur-Andelle near
Rouen, according to H. W. C. Davis before 15 October. _E. H. R._, xxiv,
p. 729, n. 4.
[2] Ordericus, iv, pp. 231-232.
[3] “Rex siquidem cum duce Rotomagum adiit, et a civibus favorabiliter
exceptus, paternas leges renovavit, pristinasque urbis dignitates
restituit.” _Ibid._, p. 233.
[4] _Ibid._
[5] _Ibid._, p. 273.
[6] Ordericus, iv, pp. 234-236.
[7] _Ibid._, pp. 236-237.
[8] _Ibid._, pp. 233-234.
[9] Letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296: “Et
nunc pax in terra reddita est, Deo gratias”; Ordericus, iv, p. 232; cf.
William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 476; _Interpolations de Robert de
Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284.
[10] _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 82, in Migne, clix, cols. 242-243.
[11] Ordericus, iv, p. 269; cf. _A-S. C._, _a._ 1107.
[12] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1107; Eadmer, p.
184; Ordericus, iv, p. 274.
[13] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1107; Eadmer, p. 184. On Henry’s itinerary in
Normandy, cf. Haskins, pp. 309-310; W. Farrer, in _E. H. R._, xxxiv, pp.
340-341.
[14] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236.
[15] Ordericus, iv, pp. 232, 237; but cf. _Interpolations de Robert de
Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284, where it is stated that the
king took the prisoners to England with him upon his return. Cf. also
_A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106.
[16] Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 236, 255; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._,
ii, p. 475; Ordericus, iv, p. 234.
[17] _Ibid._, p. 237: “Fratrem vero suum … xxvii annis in carcere
servavit, et omnibus deliciis abundanter pavit”; _ibid._, p. 402:
“Fratrem vero meum non, ut captivum hostem, vinculis mancipavi, sed ut
nobilem peregrinum, multis angoribus fractum, in arce regia collocavi,
eique omnem abundantiam ciborum et aliarum deliciarum, variamque
suppellectilem affluenter suppeditavi”; _Interpolations de Robert de
Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284. Two entries in the Pipe Roll
of 31 Henry I record the king’s expenditures for Robert’s entertainment:
“Et in lib_er_at_ione_ Archiep_iscop_i Rothomag_ensis_, et in pannis
Com_itis_ Norman_norum_ .xxiij. li_bras_ et .x. s_olidos_ nu_mer_o”; “Et
in Soltis, p_er_ br_eve_ R_egis_ Fulcher_o_ fil_io_ Walt_her_i .xij.
li_bras_ p_ro_ estruct_ura_ Com_itis_ Norman_norum_.” _Magnus Rotulus
Pipae de Anno Tricesimo-Primo Regni Henrici Primi_, ed. Joseph Hunter for
the Record Commission (London, 1833), pp. 144, 148; cf. Le Prévost, in
Ordericus, iv, 402, n. 2.
In later years an ugly rumor was current to the effect that Henry had
Robert blinded; but it rests upon no contemporary or early authority. Cf.
_infra_, pp. 200-201.
[18] _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 42. These annals also state that William
of Mortain was imprisoned in the Tower of London.
[19] Ordericus, iv, p. 486; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1126.
[20] Cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236.
[21] _La Chronique de Morigny_, ed. Léon Mirot (Paris, 1909), p. 21:
“Ludovicus, rex designatus et adhuc adolescens, quorumdam suorum
collateralium consilio deceptus, ut talia gererentur assensit, patre,
sapiente viro, sibi contradicente, et malum, quod postea accidit,
spiritu presago sibi predicente”; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 47:
“fretusque domini regis Francorum auxilio”; William of Malmesbury (_G.
R._, ii, p. 480) explains that Louis’s favor was gained “Anglorum spoliis
et multo regis obryzo.”
[22] Ordericus, iv, p. 232. William Clito was born in 1101 at Rouen and
was baptized by Archbishop William Bonne-Ame, after whom he was named.
_Ibid._, pp. 78, 98. Cf. _supra_, p. 146.
[23] Ordericus, iv, p. 232.
[24] _Ibid._, pp. 292-293, 473; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 308.
[25] Ordericus, iv, pp. 292-293.
[26] _Ibid._, pp. 464, 477, 482; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 308.
[27] Cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 294.
[28] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 439.
[29] Ordericus, iv, pp. 293-294, 465, 472-473; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de
Hyda_, p. 308.
[30] Ordericus, iv, pp. 305, 376-377; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii,
p. 475; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 238; _A. S.-C._, _a._ 1112.
[31] Ordericus, iv, pp. 293-294.
[32] _Ibid._, p. 290.
[33] Hermann of Tournay, _Liber de Restauratione S. Martini Tornacensis_,
in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, xiv, p. 284; cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 294.
[34] _Supra_, pp. 122, 180.
[35] Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 239-240; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_,
p. 308; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, pp. 85-86; Ordericus, iv, pp. 315
ff.; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 479.
[36] Ordericus, iv, _passim_.
[37] Ordericus, iv, pp. 291, 316; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p.
479; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 90; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1118, 1119;
Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 240, 242.
[38] Ordericus, iv, p. 347; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 91; _A.-S.
C._, _a._ 1119.
[39] Ordericus, iv, pp. 354-363; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 92;
_A.-S. C._, _a._ 1119; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 241-242. William Clito
fought among the French forces and lost his palfrey, but it was returned
to him next day by his cousin William Atheling as an act of courtesy.
[40] Ordericus, iv, pp. 376-378 (probably Ordericus was himself present
at the council and heard the king’s speech—_ibid._, p. 372, n. 2);
_Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 310. The archbishop of Rouen arose to
reply, but was howled down and refused a hearing.
[41] Ordericus, iv, pp. 398-399. The purpose of the Pope in going to
Gisors was not merely to support the interests of the Clito but to bring
about a settlement of all the difficulties between the kings of France
and England, and reëstablish peace. The Pope also endeavored, though
without success, to induce King Henry to make some concession in the
ecclesiastical controversy concerning the profession of obedience by
the archbishop of York to the archbishop of Canterbury. _The Historians
of the Church of York and its Archbishops_, ed. James Raine (London,
1879-94), ii, pp. 167-172, 376-377.
[42] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 482.
[43] “Synodus ergo fidelium generaliter decernit, et a sublimitate
tua, magne rex, humiliter deposcit ut Rodbertum, fratrem tuum, quem
in vinculis iamdiu tenuisti, absolvas, eique et filio eius ducatum
Normanniae, quem abstulisti, restituas.” Ordericus, iv, p. 399.
[44] _Ibid._, pp. 399-403.
[45] _G. R._, ii, p. 482.
[46] Achille Luchaire, _Louis VI le Gros: annoles de sa vie et de son
règne_ (Paris, 1890), p. 139, and the references there given.
[47] Ordericus, iv, p. 398; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, pp. 319-320.
[48] _Ibid._, pp. 320-321.
[49] “Solus regius esset haeres.” Henry of Huntingdon, p. 305 (_Epistola
de Contemptu Mundi_); cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 438; William of Malmesbury,
_G. R._, ii, pp. 497-498.
[50] Ordericus, iv, pp. 438-462; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_,
in William of Jumièges, pp. 294-296; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 245; cf.
Davis, _Normans and Angevins_, p. 150.
[51] “All this hostility was on account of the son of Count Robert of
Normandy named William. The same William had taken to wife the younger
daughter of Fulk, count of Anjou; and therefore the king of France and
all these counts and all the powerful men held with him, and said that
the king with wrong held his brother Robert in durance and unjustly drove
his son William out of Normandy.” _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1124; cf. Ordericus,
iv, p. 440; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 498.
[52] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 527-528; _Bullaire du pape
Calixte II_, ed. Ulysse Robert (Paris, 1891), ii, no. 507; Ordericus,
iv, pp. 294-295, 464; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1127. The pair were separated
by eleven degrees of kinship, the Clito being descended in the fifth
and Sibyl in the sixth generation from Richard the Fearless, third duke
of Normandy. The pedigree is given by Ordericus, _loc. cit._ The king
resorted to high-handed bribery in order to bring about the divorce. Cf.
Le Prévost, in Ordericus, iv, p. 295, n. 1.
[53] Ordericus, iv, p. 472.
[54] _Ibid._, p. 474.
[55] _Ibid._, pp. 474-477; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, pp. 110-112;
_A.-S. C._, _a._ 1127; Galbert of Bruges, _Histoire du meurtre de Charles
le Bon, comte de Flandre_, ed. Henri Pirenne (Paris, 1891), _passim_, cf.
Luchaire, _Louis VI le Gros_, pp. 175-176, and the references there given.
[56] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1128; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 247-248; letter of
William Clito to Louis VI, in _H. F._, xv, p. 341. On the date of this
letter (March 1128) see Luchaire, _Louis VI le Gros_, p. 188.
[57] _Ibid._; Walter of Thérouanne, _Vita Karoli Comitis Flandriae_, in
_M. G. H._, Scriptores, xii, p. 557; Galbert of Bruges, pp. 144-147;
Ordericus, iv, pp. 480-484; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 249.
[58] Pirenne, _Histoire de Belgique_, i, pp. 183-185. For a full
discussion of the relations between the Clito and the Flemish burghers
see Arthur Giry, _Histoire de la ville de Saint-Omer et de ses
institutions jusqu’au XIVᵉ siècle_ (Paris, 1877), pp. 45 ff.
[59] Ordericus, iv, pp. 481-482; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1128; Florence of
Worcester, ii, pp. 90-91; Galbert of Bruges, pp. 170-171, and n. 2, where
the chronological problem is fully discussed.
[60] Ordericus, iv, p. 486.
[61] “His porro diebus Robbertus rex Anglorum legatos ad hoc monasterium
direxit, petens ut pro se atque pro statu regni sui Domini clementiam
exorarent, calicemque aureum quantitatis non modicae beato Benedicto per
eos dirigere studuit.” Petrus Diaconus, _Chronica Monasterii Casinensis_,
in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, vii, p. 791. This may very possibly be a
scribal error, and the reference may really be to Henry I.
[62] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1126: “In this same year the king caused his
brother Robert to be taken from the bishop Roger of Salisbury, and
committed him to his son Robert, earl of Gloucester, and had him
conducted to Bristol, and there put into the castle. That was all done
through his daughter’s counsel, and through her uncle, David, the Scots’
king”; cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges,
p. 292.
[63] Ordericus, iv, p. 486; v, pp. 18, 42; Florence of Worcester, ii, p.
95; _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 15.
[64] Known as Iolo Morganwg (1746-1826).
[65] The manuscript referred to is apparently no longer extant, the
Truman Collection having been scattered early in the nineteenth century,
and almost every trace of it having now disappeared. We are therefore
solely indebted to Edward Williams for the preservation of this poem and
its brief introduction, which together constitute the only evidence that
Robert became acquainted with the Welsh language and wrote verses. The
poem has been several times printed, but all texts of it derive from a
single source, viz., Williams’s transcript of the Pantlliwyd manuscript.
According to Mr. John Ballinger, librarian of the National Library of
Wales, to whom I am indebted for the foregoing information, Williams’s
statements as to the sources from which he made his copies are usually
accurate, but his deductions are often uncritical and faulty.
[66] “The Severn sea, or Bristol channel, and the woody promontory of
Penarth, are in full view of Cardiff castle, at the distance, in a
direct line, of no more than two miles. There are on this promontory the
vestiges of an old camp (Roman, I believe), on one of the banks or mounds
of which, these verses suppose the apostrophized oak to be growing.”
Williams, in _Gentleman’s Magazine_, lxiv (1794), 2, p. 982.
[67] _Ibid._, p. 981.
[68] Ordericus, iv, p. 486; v, pp. 18, 42; Florence of Worcester, ii, p.
95; _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 15. Robert of Torigny
is in error in stating that he died at Bristol. _Interpolations de Robert
de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 292. The date of Robert’s death
is probably 3 February, as stated by the local Gloucester annals, though
Robert of Torigny places it on 10 February.
[69] _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 15: “in ecclesia
Sancti Petri Gloucestriae honorifice coram principali altari sepelitur”;
Ordericus, iv, p. 486; v, p. 18; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_,
in William of Jumièges, p. 292. The well known effigy of Robert Curthose
in wood with which his tomb was later adorned is still preserved in
Gloucester cathedral—the abbey church having become the cathedral upon
the institution of the bishopric in 1541. It is no longer in its original
position, but is in the northeast chapel, called Abbot Boteler’s chapel,
off the ambulatory. It was broken into several pieces during the civil
wars of Charles I, but was repaired and restored to the cathedral through
the generosity of Sir Humphrey Tracey of Stanway. It was evidently still
in its original position when Leland saw it in the sixteenth century.
He says: “Robᵗᵘˢ. Curthoise, sonne to K. William the Conquerour, lyeth
in the midle of the Presbitery. There is on his Tombe an Image of Wood
paynted, made longe since his Death.” _The Itinerary of John Leland
the Antiquary_, ed. Thomas Hearne, 3d ed. (Oxford, 1769), iv, p. 80.
According to W. V. Guise the effigy is of “a date not very remote from
the period at which the duke lived.” He bases his opinion upon the fact
that the hauberk of chain-mail and the long surcote, as represented in
the effigy, ceased to be worn after the thirteenth century. _Records of
Gloucester Cathedral_, ed. William Bazeley (Gloucester, n. d.), i, 1, p.
101. Nothing appears to be known as to who provided for the effigy or as
to the circumstances under which it was wrought. See H. J. L. J. Massé,
_The Cathedral Church of Gloucester: a Description of its Fabric and a
brief History of the Episcopal See_ (London, 1910), pp. 85-86.
[70] “Rex Henricus senior dedit Deo et Sancto Petro Gloucestriae manerium
suum de Rodele cum bosco et piscaria ibidem, ad inveniendum lumen ante
altare magnum ibidem iugiter arsurum pro anima Roberti Curthose germani
sui ibidem sepulti tempore Willelmi abbatis.” _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri
Gloucestriae_, i, pp. 110-111. “Willelmi” is probably a scribal error for
Walteri.