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Title: The Reign of William Rufus and the Accession of Henry the First, Volume II (of 2)
Author: Freeman, Edward A. (Edward Augustus)
Language: English
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AND THE ACCESSION OF HENRY THE FIRST, VOLUME II (OF 2) ***
London
HENRY FROWDE
[Illustration: Printer’s Logo]
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE
7 PATERNOSTER ROW
THE
REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS
AND THE
ACCESSION OF HENRY THE FIRST.
BY
EDWARD A. FREEMAN, M.A., HON. D.C.L., LL.D.
HONORARY FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE.
_IN TWO VOLUMES._
VOLUME II.
Oxford:
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS.
1882.
[_All rights reserved_.]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER V.
THE WARS OF SCOTLAND, NORTHUMBERLAND, AND WALES.
1093-1098.
A. D. PAGE
Events of the year 1093; relations between England
and Scotland; results of the war of 1093 3-4
Growth of the English power and of the English
nation under Rufus; the Scottish kingdom becomes
English 4-5
1093 Death of Malcolm; first reign of Donald 5
1094 Reign of Duncan; second reign of Donald 5
1097 Establishment of Eadgar 5
1095 Revolt of Robert of Mowbray 5-5
Affairs of Wales; comparison between Wales and
Scotland 6
Effects of the reign on the union of Britain;
comparison with Ireland and Normandy 6-8
§ 1. _The last year of Malcolm._ 1093.
Complaints of Malcolm against William Rufus;
effects on Scotland of the restoration of Carlisle;
other grounds of offence 8-9
March, 1093 Scottish embassy at Gloucester; Malcolm
summoned to Gloucester; Eadgar sent to bring him 9-10
Present favour of Eadgar with William 9-10
August Malcolm sets forth; he stops at Durham 11
August 11 He lays a foundation stone of the abbey; import of
the ceremony 11-12
August 24 Malcolm at Gloucester; William refuses to see him;
questions between the kings; William observes his
safe-conduct 13-14
Malcolm’s last invasion of England; he draws near
to Alnwick; history of the place 15-16
English feeling about Malcolm 16
Nov. 13 Malcolm slain by Morel 16-17
Burial of Malcolm at Tynemouth; history of Tynemouth;
his translation to Dunfermline 18-19
Local estimate of Malcolm’s death 19
Character of Margaret; Malcolm’s devotion to her;
her children and their education 20-22
Margaret’s reforms; Scottish feeling towards them 22-26
Her religious reforms 22-23
She increases the pomp of the court 23-24
English influence in Scotland; English and Norman
settlers 24-26
Nov. 27 Death of Margaret; different versions; her burial at
Dunfermline; Scottish feeling towards her 26-28
Donald elected king; he drives out the English;
meaning of the words 29-30
Margaret’s children driven out; action of the elder
Eadgar 30
Eadgyth and Mary brought up at Romsey; Malcolm
at Romsey; story of Eadgyth and William Rufus 31-32
Events of 1094; order of Scottish events 32-33
Christmas, Assembly at Gloucester; Duncan claims the Scottish
1093-1094 crown; his Norman education 33-34
1094 He receives the crown from William, and wins the
kingdom by the help of Norman and English
volunteers 34-35
May, 1094 Revolution in Scotland; the foreigners driven out 35
November Duncan slain and Donald restored 36
1094-1097 Second reign of Donald 36
§ 2. _The revolt of Robert of Mowbray._ 1095-1096.
Conspiracy against William Rufus; no general support
for the plot 37-40
Robert of Mowbray marries Matilda of Laigle 38
His dealings with Earl Hugh and Bishop William;
other conspirators; William of Eu 38-39
Designs on behalf of Stephen of Aumale 39-40
Earl Robert plunders the Norwegian ships; the
merchants complain to the King; Robert refuses
redress 40-41
March 25, Easter assembly at Winchester; Robert summoned,
1095 but refuses to come 41
April 4 Falling stars 41-42
Messages between the King and Robert 42
May 13 Whitsun assembly at Windsor; Robert again refuses
to come 42
The King marches against Robert; his rebellion 42-43
The rebels expect help from Normandy 44
The King marches to Nottingham; Anselm’s command
in Kent 44-45
Robert’s fortresses; the New Castle, Tynemouth,
Bamburgh; taking of the New Castle 46-47
July Siege of Tynemouth; description of the site;
taking of Tynemouth 47-48
The castle of Bamburgh; Robert defends it against
the King 49-50
Failure of direct attacks; making of the _Malvoisin_;
the King goes away 51-52
Robert entrapped by a false message; he flees to
Tynemouth; he is besieged in the monastery,
taken, and imprisoned 52-53
Bamburgh defended by Matilda of Laigle 54
November She yields to save her husband’s eyes 54
Later history of Robert and Matilda 54-55
Morel turns King’s evidence 55
1095-1096 Christmas assembly at Windsor; all tenants-in-chief
summoned; constitutional importance of the meeting 56-59
January 13 The meeting adjourned to Salisbury; action of the
assembly; no general sympathy with the accused 56-59
Bishop William charged with treason and summoned
to take his trial; portents foretelling his death 59-61
Dec. 25, His sickness and death 61
1095-
Jan. 1, 1096
Debate as to his burial-place; he is buried in the
chapter-house 61-62
Sentences of the assembly; Earl Hugh buys his
pardon 62-63
January 13 William of Eu appealed by Geoffrey of Baynard, and
convicted by battle 63
He is blinded and mutilated; action of Earl Hugh 64-65
Story of Arnulf of Hesdin; his innocence proved by
battle 65
He goes to the crusade and dies 66
William of Alderi sentenced to death; the King
refuses to spare him 66-67
His pious end 67-68
Last days of William of Eu and of Morel 68-69
§ 3. _The Conquest and Revolt of Wales._
1093-1097.
Relations with Wales; character of the Welsh wars
of Rufus; effect of the building of castles 69-71
Welsh campaigns of Harold and William Rufus compared 71-72
Immediate failure and lasting success 71
Comparison of the conquest of Wales with the English
and Norman conquests; difference of geographical
conditions 72-74
Extension of England by conquest and settlement 74
Various elements in Wales; the Flemish settlements;
endurance of the Welsh language 74-75
The local nomenclature of Wales contrasted with that
of England 75-76
The Welsh castles; contrast with England; the
Welsh towns 76-77
Conquests before the accession of Rufus; Robert of
Rhuddlan; reigns of Rhys ap Tewdwr and Cedivor 77-78
1091 Saint David’s robbed by pirates 78
1093 Beginning of the conquest of South Wales; legend of
the conquest of Glamorgan 79-81
Story of Jestin and Einion; settlement of Robert
Fitz-hamon and his knights 80-81
Estimate of the story; elements of truth 81-82
History of Robert Fitz-hamon; his lands, marriage,
and settlement at Cardiff 82-83
His works at Gloucester and Tewkesbury; his grants
of Welsh churches to English monasteries 84
Distinction between Morganwg and Glamorgan; extent
of Glamorgan 85
The lords and their castles 86-87
The South-Welsh churches and monasteries 88-89
Saxon and Flemish settlements in South Wales;
foundation of boroughs 88
Conquest of Brecknock; Bernard of Newmarch and
his wife Nest 89-91
Easter, Defeat and death of Rhys at Brecknock; effects of
1093 his death 91-92
April 30 Cadwgan harries Dyfed 92
July 1 Norman conquest of Ceredigion and Dyfed 92-93
Tale of Rufus’s threats against Ireland 92-93
Acquisition of Saint David’s; Bishop Wilfrith 94
The Pembrokeshire castles 95
Pembroke castle begun by Arnulf of Montgomery;
second building by Gerald of Windsor; his wife
Nest 96-97
Earl Hugh in Anglesey; castle of Aberlleiniog 97
Advance of Earl Roger in Powys; castle of Rhyd-y-gors 97
Seeming conquest of Wales; Gower and Caermarthen
unsubdued 98
Effect of William’s absence; general revolt under
Cadwgan son of Bleddyn 98-100
Invasion of England 100
Deliverance of Anglesey; Aberlleiniog castle broken
down 101
Character of the war; action of Cadwgan in Dyfed;
Pembroke castle holds out 101-102
Question of a winter campaign; conquest of Kidwelly,
Gower, and Caermarthen 102
1099 Alleged West-Saxon settlement in Gower; the Gower
castles 103
Pagan of Turberville helps the Welsh 104
North Wales holds out; the Welsh take Montgomery 104-105
Michaelmas, William’s invasion of Wales 105
1095
November 1 He reaches Snowdon; ill-success of the campaign 105
1096 The Welsh take Rhyd-y-gors; revolt of Gwent and
Brecknock 106
English feeling towards the war 106-107
Vain attempts to recover Gwent 107
Importance of the castles; the Welsh attack Pembroke;
defence of Gerald of Windsor 108-109
1097 Gerald takes the offensive against the Welsh 110
Easter, William’s second campaign; seeming conquest; fresh
1097 revolt under Cadwgan 110-111
June-Aug. 1097 William’s third campaign; his ill-success 111-112
October He determines to build castles 112-113
§ 4. _The Establishment of Eadgar in Scotland._
1097-1098.
August, Decree for action in Scotland; the elder Eadgar
1097 commissioned to restore the younger 114
Story of Godwine and Ordgar; the Ætheling Eadgar
cleared by battle 114-118
Estimate and importance of the story 117-118
September The two Eadgars march to Scotland; exploits of
Robert son of Godwine; defeat and blinding of
Donald; later life of Eadmund 118-120
1097-1107 Reign of Eadgar in Scotland 120-123
Eadgar’s gifts to Robert son of Godwine 121
1099-1100 Eadgar and Robert go to the Crusade 121-122
1103 Exploits and martyrdom of Robert son of Godwine;
parallels and contrasts 122-123
1107-1124 Reign of Alexander in Scotland; friendship of the
Scottish kings for England; Turgot and Eadmer 124
1124-1153 Reign of David in Scotland; English influence in
Scotland; the Scottish kings of the second series 125-126
§ 5. _The Expedition of Magnus._ 1098.
Events of the year 1098; their wide geographical
range; Anglesey the centre of the story 126-127
Winter, Schemes of Cadwgan and Gruffydd; they take
1097-1098 wikings from Ireland into pay 127-128
The two Earls Hugh of Chester and Shrewsbury 129
The Earls enter Anglesey; they rebuild the castle
of Aberlleiniog 129-130
The Earls bribe the wikings; Cadwgan and Gruffydd
flee to Ireland 130-131
Cruelties of the Earls; mutilation and restoration
of Cenred 131-132
1093-1103 Reign of Magnus Barefoot in Norway; his surnames 133
He professes friendship for England; his treasure
at Lincoln 133-134
Harold son of Harold in his fleet 134-136
Designs of Magnus on Ireland; Irish marriage of his
son Sigurd; his voyage among the islands 136
1075-1095 Reign of Godred Crouan in Man and the Sudereys 136-137
1078-1094 His Irish dominion 136-137
His sons Lagman and Harold 137
Rulers of Man sent from Ireland and Norway; civil
war in Man 137-138
Legend of Magnus and Saint Olaf 138-140
Magnus seizes the Orkney earls and gives the
earldom to his son Sigurd 140
Further voyage of Magnus; he occupies Man; his
designs 140-142
He approaches Anglesey; preparations of the earls;
the fleet off Aberlleiniog 142-143
Death of Hugh of Shrewsbury; different versions 143-144
Peace between Magnus and Hugh of Chester 145
Anglesey and North Wales subdued by Hugh 145-146
Sigurd’s kingdom in the islands; dealings of
Magnus with Scotland 145-146
§ 6. _The Establishment of Robert of Bellême in England._
1098.
1098 Effects of the death of Hugh of Shrewsbury; Robert
of Bellême buys his earldom and his other
possessions; doubtful policy of the grant 147-149
Unique position of Robert in England; effects of his
coming; his cruelty and spoliations 149-151
His skill in castle-building; his defences in
Shropshire; early history of the Shropshire
fortresses 151-152
896-912 First works at the _Bridge_ 152-153
Quatford; Earl Roger’s house and chapel 153-154
Robert of Bellême removes to Bridgenorth and
Oldbury 155-158
The group of fortresses 158
Robert builds the castle of Careghova 158
Roger of Bully; his Yorkshire and Nottingham
estates 159-160
The castle of Tickhill; use of the names Tickhill
and Blyth 160-162
1088 The priory of Blyth founded by Roger of Bully 161
Death of Roger of Bully; his lands granted to Robert
of Bellême 162-164
CHAPTER VI.
THE LAST WARS OF WILLIAM RUFUS. 1097-1099.
1097-1100 Character of the last years of William Rufus; his
designs on France 165-167
1097-1098 Beginning of the wars between France and Maine 167
Nov. 1097 William crosses the sea 167
Comparison of France and Maine; Philip and Helias;
advantage of the kingly dignity 168-170
Lewis son of Philip 170
Jan. 1098 Beginning of the war of Maine 170
§ 1. _The Beginning of the French War._ 1097-1098.
1092 King Philip; his adulterous marriage with Bertrada
of Montfort 171-172
Opposition of Ivo and Hugh of Lyons; excommunication
of Philip and Bertrada 173-174
Sons of Philip and Bertrada; she schemes against
Lewis 174
Philip invests Lewis with the Vexin 175
1097 William’s grounds of offence; he demands the cession
of the Vexin; his demand is refused 175-176
November William crosses to Normandy; excesses of his
11-30 followers in England 176-177
William and Lewis; difficulties of Lewis; fate of
the captives on each side 178-179
French traitors; Guy of the Rock; description of
Roche Guyon 179-182
Policy of Robert of Meulan; he receives William’s
troops; importance and description of Meulan 182-184
Prospects of William; failure of his plans 184-185
The castle of Chaumont-en-Vexin 185-186
1096 The castle of Gisors; its first defences
strengthened by Robert of Bellême 186-188
Castles of Trye and Boury 188-189
National feeling in the French Vexin 189-190
Prisoners on both sides; Gilbert of Laigle; Simon
of Montfort 190
§ 2. _The First War of Maine._ 1098.
November, Dates of the French war 191
1097-1098
Jan.-Aug. War of Maine 191
1098
1089 Robert suspects the loyalty of Maine; he asks help
of Fulk of Anjou; marriage of Fulk and Bertrada 191-194
1090 Movements in Maine; Hugh son of Azo sent for 194-195
Character of Helias of La Flèche; his descent;
his castles; he accepts the succession of Hugh 195-197
1090 Revolt of Maine; Hugh received at Le Mans 197-200
Bishop Howel imprisoned by Helias 197-199
Release of Howel; his dealings with Robert 199-200
Disputes between Hugh and Howel; disputes of
Howel with his chapter; he goes to England 201
June 28, 1090 Return of Howel; unpopularity of Hugh 202
February, Helias buys the county of Hugh 202-203
1091
1091-1098 First reign of Helias; peace of the land 203-204
October 17, Translation of Saint Julian 204
1093
November, Visit of Pope Urban to Le Mans 205
1095
1095-1097 Sickness of Howel 205
1095-1096 Helias takes the cross; estimate of his conduct 205-207
Aug. 1096 William in Normandy; danger to Maine; negotiations
of Helias with Robert 207
Interview of William and Helias; mutual challenge
and defiance 208-210
1096-1097 William delays his attack 210
July 29, Death of Howel; disputed election to the bishopric 210-211
1097
1097-1126 Hildebert Bishop of Le Mans 211-212
Claims of the Norman dukes over the bishopric;
anger of Rufus at the election of Hildebert 211-213
Nov. 1097 William in Normandy; his designs on Maine 213
Robert of Bellême attacks Maine; Helias strengthens
Dangeul; geographical character of the war 213-214
Jan. 1098 Robert of Bellême invites the King; guerrilla
warfare of Helias 214-215
William leaves Maine; Robert of Bellême continues
the war; castles held by him 216-219
Nature of the country and of the war; comparison
of Maine and England 219-221
Helias defeats Robert at Saônes; cruelty of Robert 221-223
April 28, 1098 Second victory of Helias; he is taken prisoner
near Danguel 223-224
Helias surrendered to the king; contrast between
William Rufus and Robert of Bellême 224-225
Hildebert and the council at Le Mans 225-226
William at Rouen; a great levy ordered; numbers
of the army 226-228
June, The army meets at Alençon; invasion of Maine;
1098 truce with Ralph of Fresnay 228-230
Dealings with the nobles of Maine 230-231
May 5 Fulk of Anjou at Le Mans; he leaves Geoffrey in
command 231-232
March of William Rufus; he approaches Le Mans by
Coulaines; he ravages Coulaines 232-234
Sally from the city; Rufus goes away; the siege of
Le Mans raised 234-236
Ballon betrayed to Rufus; occupied by Robert of
Bellême, and besieged by Fulk 235-236
July 20 William relieves Ballon; his treatment of the
captive knights 236-237
August Fulk goes back to Le Mans; convention between
William and Fulk; Le Mans to be surrendered and
Helias set free 237-238
Submission of Le Mans; William’s entry 238-241
William leaves Le Mans; general submission of
Maine 241
Meeting of William and Helias at Rouen; the offers
of Helias rejected; his defiance 242-243
Helias set free; illustration of the King’s
character 244-245
§ 3. _The End of the French War. September-December_, 1098.
1097-1099 William on the Continent; extent of his conquest in
Maine; he begins, but does not finish 245
September He sets forth against France; the sign in the sky
27, 1098 246
He marches to Pontoise; position of the town and
castle; Pontoise his furthest point 247-248
Siege of Chaumont; castle not taken 248-249
Alliance between Normandy and Aquitaine; coming
of Duke William of Poitiers 249-250
Campaign to the west of Paris; valley of the Maudre;
the two Williams march against the Montfort
castles 250-252
The castles resist singly; Peter of Maule 252-253
The two Simons of Montfort; the castle of Montfort;
successful defence of the younger Simon 253-255
Christmas, William keeps Christmas in Normandy; truce with
1098-1099 France 255
Ill-success of the French war; illustrations of
William’s character 256
§ 4. _The Gemót of 1099._
April 10, Easter assembly 256
1099
May 19 Whitsun assembly in the new hall at Westminster 257
Buildings of William Rufus; they are reckoned
among the national grievances; probable abuses of
the law 257-260
Various grievances and natural phænomena 258
The wall round the tower, the bridge, and the hall;
growth of the greatness of London; relations of
London and Winchester 259-261
Westminster Hall; its two founders; its history 262-263
Object of the hall; personal pride of Rufus; the
Whitsun feast; the sword borne by the King of
Scots 263-264
Deaths of bishops and abbots; character and acts of
Walkelin of Winchester 265-266
April 8, The monks take possession of the new church of
1093 Winchester 266
1097-1098 Walkelin joint regent with Flambard; the King’s
demand for money 266-267
Jan. 3, Death of Walkelin 267
1098
Death of Turold of Peterborough and Robert of New
Minster 267
Abbot Baldwin of Saint Eadmund’s; rebuilding of
the church; the King forbids the dedication 267-269
April 30, Various details of Abbot Baldwin; translation of
1095 Saint Eadmund 268-270
Dec. 29, Death of Abbot Baldwin 270
1097
The bishopric of Durham granted to Randolf Flambard 271
June 5, Consecration of Flambard 271
1099
1099- Character of the appointment; Flambard’s episcopate 271-274
1128
His works at Durham and Norham 272
Later events of the year 1099 274
§ 5. _The Second War of Maine._
_April-September, 1099._
Aug. 1098- Helias withdraws to La Flèche; he strengthens the
April, 1099 castles on the Loir 274-276
April, 1099 He attacks the castle held by the King 277
June He marches against Le Mans; battle at Pontlieue;
he recovers Le Mans 277-278
The castles still held for the King; the Normans
set fire to the city; comparison of Le Mans and
York 279-281
Vain operations against the castles; use of the
church towers; Robert of Bêlleme strengthens
Ballon 281-282
The news brought to William in the New Forest;
his ride to the coast 282-284
He crosses to Touques and rides to Bonneville; the
castle of Bonneville 284-287
His levy; he marches to Le Mans; Helias flees to
Château-du-Loir 287
William passes through Le Mans; he harries southern
Maine; Helias burns the castles 288-289
William besieges Mayet; observance of the Truce of
God; details of the siege; the siege raised 289-294
The land ravaged, but the campaign left unfinished 294-295
William at Le Mans; his good treatment of the
city; he drives out the canons 295-296
Sept. 1099 He goes back to England 296
Hildebert reconciled to the King; the King bids him
pull down the towers of Saint Julian’s; question
whether the order was carried out 297-300
1099 Revolt in Anglesey; return of Cadwgan and Gruffydd;
recovery of Anglesey and Ceredigion by the
Welsh 300-301
Nov. 3, The great tide in the Thames 302
1099
December 3 Death of Bishop Osmund of Salisbury 302
CHAPTER VII.
THE LAST DAYS OF WILLIAM RUFUS AND THE ACCESSION
OF HENRY. 1100-1102.
1000-1100 End of the eleventh century; changes in Britain
and in the world 303-307
Change from Æthelred to William Rufus; contradiction
in William’s position; his defeats not
counted defeats 307-308
The year 1100; lack of events in its earlier months;
comparison with the year 1000; vague expectations,
portents, and prophecies 308-310
§ 1. _The Last days of William Rufus._
_January-August, 1100._
The three assemblies of 1099-1100; no record of
these assemblies; continental schemes of Rufus 310-311
Return of Robert from the crusade; his marriage
with Sibyl of Conversana 311-313
William of Aquitaine; his crusade; he proposes to
pledge his duchy to Rufus; preparations for the
occupation of Aquitaine 313-314
Alleged designs of Rufus on the Empire 314
May, 1100 Portents; death of Richard son of Robert 315-316
June, July Warlike preparations 317
July 15 Consecration of Gloucester abbey 317
August 1 Visions and prophecies; Abbot Fulchered’s sermon
at Gloucester 317-321
August 1 William at Brockenhurst; his companions; Walter
Tirel; his history; his _gab_ with the King;
illustrative value of the story 321-325
August 2 Last day of William Rufus; various versions of his
death; estimate of the received tale 325-327
Versions of Orderic and William of Malmesbury 327-331
Versions which assert a repentance for Rufus 331-332
Version charging Ralph of Aix 333-335
Impression made at the time by the death of Rufus;
its abiding memory; local traditions; end and
character of Rufus 335-337
Accounts of William’s burial; the genuine story; his
popular excommunication; he is buried in the Old
Minster without religious rites 338-341
July 31 Portents at William’s death; dream of Abbot Hugh
of Clugny 341
August 1 Vision of Anselm’s doorkeeper 341
August 2 News brought to Anselm’s clerk; vision of Count
William of Mortain 341-343
§ 2. _The First Days of Henry._
_August 2-November 11, 1100._
Vacancy of the throne; claims of Robert by the
treaty of 1091; choice between Robert and Henry;
claims of Henry; his speedy election 343-345
August 2 Story of Henry on the day of the King’s death; he
hastens to Winchester 345-346
He demands the treasure and is resisted by William
of Breteuil; popular feeling for Henry 346-347
August 3 Meeting for the election; division in the assembly;
influence of Henry Earl of Warwick; Henry
chosen King 347-348
Henry grants the bishopric of Winchester to
William Giffard 349
August 5 Henry crowned at Westminster; form of his oath;
joy at his accession 349-351
He puts forth his charter; its provisions 352-357
Privilege of the knights and its effects 355-356
Renewal of the Law of Eadward 357
Witnesses to the charter 358
August 5 Appointments to abbeys; Robert of Saint Eadmund’s
and Richard of Ely; their later history 359-360
1100-1120 Herlwin Abbot of Glastonbury 360
1100-1117 Faricius Abbot of Abingdon 360
Imprisonment of Flambard 361-362
The King’s inner council 362-363
The news of the King’s death brought to Anselm;
his grief 363
Letters to him from his monks and from the King;
popular language of Henry’s letter 363-366
Intrigues of the Norman nobles with Robert; renewed
anarchy in Normandy 366-367
Sept. Return of Robert to Normandy; his renewed
1100 no-government 367-368
Henry keeps his own fief; war between Henry and
Robert 368
Sept. 23. Return of Anselm 368
Helias returns to Le Mans; the King’s garrison
holds out in the royal tower 370
Helias calls in Fulk; siege of the tower 370
Courtesies between Helias and the garrison; messages
sent to Robert and Henry; surrender of the
castle 370-373
1100-1110 Just reign of Helias; his friendship for Henry 373
1109 His second marriage; later history of Maine; descent
of the later English kings from Helias 374
Meeting of Anselm and Henry; comparison of the
dispute between Anselm and William Rufus and
that between Anselm and Henry 374-375
Henry calls on Anselm to do homage; Anselm refuses;
change in his views 375-377
Truce till Easter; the Pope to be asked to allow the
homage; the spiritual power strengthened through
Rufus’ abuse of the temporal power 375-378
The temporalities of the archbishopric provisionally
restored 378
Reformation of the court; personal character of
Henry; his mistresses and children; story of
Ansfrida and her son Richard 379-382
Henry is exhorted to marry; he seeks for Eadgyth
daughter of Malcolm; policy of the marriage 382-383
Objections to the marriage; Eadgyth said to have
taken the veil 384
Anselm holds an assembly to settle the question;
Eadgyth declared free to marry; other versions of
the story 384-387
November Marriage of Henry and Eadgyth; she changes her
11, 1100 name to Matilda 387-388
Anselm’s speech at the wedding; objections not
wholly silenced 388
1100-1118 Matilda as Queen; her children and character;
“Godric and Godgifu” 388-391
Guy of Vienne comes as Legate; his claims not
acknowledged 391
Nov. 18 Death of Thomas Archbishop of York 391
1100-1108 Gerard of Hereford Archbishop of York 392
§ 3. _Invasion of Robert. January-August, 1101._
Likeness of the years 1088 and 1101; plots to give
the crown to Robert; a party in Normandy to give
the crown to Henry 392-393
Character of Robert and Eadgar; Robert as crusader;
his relapse on his return to Normandy 394
Parties in England and Normandy; Henry’s strict
rule distasteful to the nobles 394-395
Plots of Robert of Bellême and others; Duke
Robert’s grants to Robert of Bellême 395-396
Christmas Assembly at Westminster 396
1100-1101
Flambard escapes to Normandy; his influence with
Robert 396-398
April 21 Easter assembly at Winchester; the questions between
Henry and Anselm adjourned; growth of
the conspiracy 399
June 9 Whitsun assembly; its popular character; mediation
of Anselm; renewed promise of good laws 399-400
The Church and the people for Henry; England
united against invasion 401
Importance of the campaign of 1101; last opposition
of Normans and English; their fusion under Henry 401-402
July, 1101 Robert and his fleet at Tréport 401-403
Henry’s levée; Anselm and his contingent; the
English at Pevensey 403-404
The English fleet sent out; some of the crews desert
to Robert 404
July 20 Robert lands at Portchester; comparison with former
invasions 405-406
Robert marches on Winchester; Matilda in child-bed
in the city; he declines to attack Winchester 406
Estimate of his conduct; personal character of the
chivalrous feeling 406-408
Robert marches towards London; the armies meet
near Maldon 408-409
Desertion of Robert of Bellême and William of
Warren 408-409
July 26 Death of Earl Hugh 410
Anselm’s energy on the King’s side; zeal of the
English; exhortations of the King 410-411
Negotiations between Henry and Robert; their
personal meeting; they agree on terms 412-413
Treaty of 1101; Robert resigns his claim to England;
Henry gives up his Norman possessions, but keeps
Domfront; other stipulations 413-414
Michaelmas, Robert goes back; mischief done by his army 415
1101
§ 4. _Revolt of Robert of Bellême._ 1102.
Continued disloyalty of the Norman nobles; Henry’s
plans for breaking their power 415
Flambard in Normandy; his dealings with the see
of Lisieux 415-416
Banishment and restoration of Earl William of Warren 416
Other banishments; trial of Ivo of Grantmesnil; his
bargain with Robert of Meulan 417-418
1102-1118 Robert of Meulan Earl of Leicester; his death; his
ecclesiastical foundations 418-421
Christmas, Assembly at Westminster; danger from Robert of
1101-1102 Bellême; the King watches him 420-421
April 6, Easter assembly at Winchester; Robert of Bellême
1102 summoned, but does not come 421-422
Second summons to Robert; the war begins 422
Robert and his brothers Arnulf and Roger; his
acquisition of Ponthieu; his dealings with Wales,
Ireland, and Norway 423-424
Condition of Wales; return of Gruffydd and Cadwgan 424
Alliance of Robert of Bellême with the Welsh 425
Arnulf’s dealings with Murtagh; the Irish king’s
daughter promised to him 425-426
Henry’s negotiations with Duke Robert; the Duke
attacks Robert of Bellême’s fortress of Vignats 426
Treason of Robert of Montfort; defeat of the
besiegers; general ravages 427-428
Robert of Bellême strengthens his castles; his
works at Bridgenorth 428
The King besieges Arundel; truce with the besieged 428-429
Robert and Arnulf harry Staffordshire 429
Surrender of Arundel 430
Surrender of Tickhill; its later history 431-432
Autumn, Henry’s Shropshire campaign; Robert of Bellême at
1102 Shrewsbury; the three captains at Bridgenorth 432-433
Story of William Pantulf; he joins the King; his
services 434-435
Siege of Bridgenorth; division between the nobles
and the mass of the army 435-437
Gathering of the mass of the army; they stand by
the King 437-438
William Pantulf wins over Jorwerth to the King 439-440
The captains at Bridgenorth agree to surrender 440-441
Arnulf goes to Ireland; Robert asks help of Magnus
in vain 442-443
The mercenaries at Bridgenorth refuse to surrender;
they are overpowered by the captains and the
townsmen 443-444
Surrender of Bridgenorth; the mercenaries march
out with the honours of war 444-445
Robert still holds Shrewsbury; his despair 445-446
The King’s march to Shrewsbury; zeal of the
English; clearing of the road 446-447
The King refuses terms to Robert; he submits
at discretion, and is banished from England 448-449
Joy at Robert’s overthrow; banishment of his
brothers; later history of Robert of Bellême 449-450
1103 Death of Magnus 451
1103 Later history of Jorwerth; his trial at Shrewsbury
and imprisonment 451-453
Assemblies held in various places under Henry 452
1104-1106 Establishment of Henry’s power; banishment of
William of Mortain; his imprisonment and alleged
blinding 453
1102-1135 Peace of Henry’s reign; its character; Henry the
refounder of the English nation 454-455
1107 The compromise with Anselm 455
1106 Battle of Tinchebrai 456
General character and results of the reigns of
William Rufus and Henry 456-457
APPENDIX.
NOTE A. The Accession of William Rufus 459
B. The Beginning of the Rebellion of 1088 465
C. The Share of Bishop William of Saint-Calais in the
Rebellion of 1088 469
D. The Deliverance of Worcester in 1088 475
E. The Attempted Landing of the Normans at Pevensey 481
F. The Bishopric of Somerset and the Abbey of Bath 483
G. The Character of William Rufus 490
H. The Ecclesiastical Benefactions of William Rufus 504
I. Chivalry 508
K. The Purchase of the Côtentin by the Ætheling Henry 510
L. The Death of Conan 516
M. The Siege of Courcy 519
N. The Treaty of 1091 522
O. The Siege of Saint Michael’s Mount 528
P. The Adventures of Henry after the Surrender of
Saint Michael’s Mount 535
Q. The Homage of Malcolm in 1091 540
R. The Earldom of Carlisle 545
S. The Early Life of Randolf Flambard 551
T. The Official Position of Randolf Flambard 557
U. The alleged Domesday of Randolf Flambard 562
W. The Dealings of William Rufus with vacant
Bishoprics and Abbeys 564
X. The Appointment of Herbert Losinga to the See of
Thetford 568
Y. The Letters of Anselm 570
Z. Robert Bloet 584
AA. The Mission of Abbot Geronto 588
BB. The Embassies between William Rufus and Malcolm
in 1093 590
CC. The Death of Malcolm 592
DD. The Burial of Margaret 596
EE. Eadgyth-Matilda 598
FF. Tynemouth and Bamburgh 603
GG. The Conquest of Glamorgan 613
HH. Godwine of Winchester and his son Robert 615
II. The Expedition of Magnus 618
KK. The Relations between Hildebert and Helias 624
LL. The Surrender of Le Mans to William Rufus 628
MM. The Fortresses of Le Mans 631
NN. The Dates of the Building of Le Mans Cathedral 632
OO. The Interview between William Rufus and Helias 640
PP. The Voyage of William Rufus to Touques 645
QQ. The Siege of Mayet 652
RR. William Rufus and the Towers of Le Mans Cathedral 654
SS. The Death of William Rufus 657
TT. The Burial of William Rufus 676
UU. The Election of Henry the First 680
WW. The Objections to the Marriage of Henry and Matilda 682
XX. The Treaty of 1101 688
ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
VOL. II.
p. 19, note 3. This picture of the two natives, most likely churls,
carrying the King’s body on the cart, is singularly like the story of
Rufus’ own end to which we shall come presently.
p. 27, l. 5. I should not have said “_a_ relic,” as I find that the
black cross of Scotland is a relic of great fame, as indeed is almost
implied in the story.
p. 27, note 5. See vol. i. p. 167.
p. 28, note 5. Munch (Det Norske Folks Historie, ii. 471-475, for an
introduction to which I have to thank Professor Fiske of Cornell
University) connects this entry with the account of Magnus’ dealings
with Man, spoken of in p. 138, and with every likelihood supposes an
earlier expedition of Magnus in 1093, in which he appeared in both
Scotland and Man, and which the writers of the Sagas have confounded
with his expedition in 1098. We can thus understand the mention of
Godred, who was certainly alive in 1093, and certainly dead in 1098.
See also Anderson, Preface to Orkneyinga Saga, pp. xxxiii-xxxiv.
p. 31, l. 14. Not “the Breton Count Alan,” at least not the Count of
the Bretons, but Alan of Richmond. See p. 602.
p. 49, l. 22, for “south-western” read “north-western.”
p. 62, note 5. Mr. Fowler writes to me that “what is left of William
of Saint-Calais is under the floor in the part of the chapter-house
still used. W. G. has one of his shoes. They began at the west end in
burying the bishops in the chapter-house, and gradually worked
eastward, ending with Kellow before the bishop’s seat at the east end.
Rites of Durham (Surtees Society ed. p. 47) gives the names as they
were ‘ingraven upon stone with the figure of the crosse + annexed to
every of their said names,’ i.e. on the chapter-house floor, and
between ‘Walcherus’ and ‘Ranulphus comes’.
‘Willielmus Episcopus.’
We found further east ‘Will. Secundus Episcopus’ [that is William of
Saint Barbara, bishop from 1143-1152]. Wyatt smashed them all more or
less.”
p. 81, note 1. See p. 614.
p. 88, l. 17. See below, p. 103.
p. 93, note 2. I presume this is the same king of whom we shall hear a
great deal from p. 137 onwards.
p. 97, l. 2 from bottom. I have been unable to fix the exact site of
Rhyd-y-gors; but I believe it is to be looked for in Caermarthenshire.
p. 101, l. 13. I am also unable to fix the exact site of Yspwys.
p. 134, l. 7 from bottom, for “Ulf” read “Wulf,” as in vol. i. p. 14.
The English spelling is the better, but I suppose I was carried away
by Scandinavian associations.
p. 134, l. 11. Munch (Det Norske Folks Historie, ii. 511) oddly refers
to William of Malmesbury as making the companion of Magnus Barefoot,
not a younger Harold, but the Magnus whom we have already heard of as
our Harold’s son, as I suppose, by Eadgyth Swanneshals. But William of
Malmesbury distinctly says Harold, and I can see nothing about it in
the places in the Saga of Magnus and the Orkneyinga Saga to which he
refers.
p. 136, l. 4 from bottom, for “Cronan” read “Crouan.”
p. 138, note 1. This is placed in the year 1098.
p. 144, l. 1. I know not by what carelessness I contrived, after
referring (see p. 131) to Giraldus’ account of the earlier doings of
the two Earls in Anglesey, to leave out all mention of his account of
Hugh of Shrewsbury’s death, which follows immediately (It. Kamb. ii.
7, vol. vi. p. 129) on the story of the desecration of the church of
Llantryfrydog. It agrees on most points very minutely with the
narrative of Orderic; but it does not seem to be borrowed from it;
“Accesserant ad insulæ portum ab Orchadum insulis piratæ in
navibus longis; quorum adventum ubi comes audivit, statim
eis usque in ipsum mare, forti residens equo, animose nimis
occurrit. Et ecce navium princeps, cui nomen Magnus, primæ
navis in prora cum arcu prostans sagittam direxit. Et
quanquam comes a vertice capitis usque ad talum pedis,
præter oculos solum, ferro fideliter esset indutus, tamen
dextro percussus in lumine, perforato cerebro, in mare
corruit moribundus. Quem cum sic corruentem victor ab alto
despiceret, superbe in victum et insolenter invectus,
dixisse memoratur lingua Danica, ‘Leit loupe,’ quod Latine
sonat Sine salire. Et ab hac in posterum hora potestas
Anglorum in Monia cessavit.”
The only difference between this story and Orderic’s is that, while
Orderic makes Magnus mourn when he learns whom he has slain, Giraldus
puts into his mouth two good Teutonic words of triumph, which sound a
great deal more natural. On the other hand we cannot accept Giraldus’
account of the immediate result of the encounter as regards Anglesey,
which quite contradicts the witness of the Welsh writers. His
statement however is true in the long run, as Anglesey was delivered
again the next year. See p. 146.
In the Orkneyinga Saga, c. xxix. (p. 55, Anderson), Magnus “takes a
psalter and sings during the battle.” Then, by his order, he and the
man from Hálogoland shoot at the same time, and hit “Hugh the Proud,”
much as in the other versions. He and “Hugh the Proud” are oddly
spoken of as “British chiefs.”
p. 146, l. 17. See below, pp. 442, 623; but the words “and of other
parts of North Wales” had better be left out.
p. 153, note 1, for “muentione” read “inuentione.”
p. 174, l. 4, for “from” read “for.”
p. 175, l. 3. I think we must accept this distinct statement as more
trustworthy than the flourish of Orderic a few pages later, which I
have quoted in p. 178, note 1. The present passage, besides its more
distinct character, has the force of a correction.
p. 178, note 3. Suger is a discreet writer, or one might suspect him
of exaggeration in his figures both ways. If we take “milites” in the
strict sense of knights, the French numbers seem strangely small, and
the English strangely large. But any other sense of “miles” would make
the French numbers quite incredible.
p. 181, note 1. And by the Loir too; see below, p. 276.
p. 190, l. 9 from bottom, “superinducta” is the favourite epithet for
her.
p. 201, note 2. “Fraterculus” is an odd word; but it most likely
points to Geoffrey as being one of the “canonici pueri” of whom we
hear sometimes (see below, p. 521). “Frater” did not get its special
meaning till the rise of the Friars, and we have seen the word
“fratres” applied to the canons of Waltham. One might for a moment
think that Geoffrey was a brother of the Bishop’s own, but this is
forbidden by the account of his kindred which directly follows.
p. 207, note 1. This time, when William and Robert were together at
Rouen, can only have been about September, 1096, just after the
conference between the brothers spoken of in vol. i. p. 559, and just
before Robert set forth on the crusade.
p. 230, last line, for “he” read “we.”
p. 243, note 1. It is rather odd that exactly this same phrase of
“callidus senex,” here applied to Robert of Meulan, should be also
applied to the old Roger of Beaumont in the story told in vol. i. p.
194. We must remember that our present “callidus senex” had been
married, seemingly for the first time, only two years before (see vol.
i. p. 551), and that he lived till 1118.
p. 250, l. 8. This is doubtless true, but the specially strange guise,
described in the passage of William of Malmesbury referred to in the
note, was not put on till William of Aquitaine had come back from the
crusade. See above, p. 113.
p. 252, note 2. See above, p. 178, and the correction just above, p.
175.
p. 260, note 3. See at the end of the chapter, p. 302, and note 1.
p. 290, l. 2 from bottom. Yet see the piece of Angevin scandal quoted
in p. 609.
p. 312, l. 10, for “both Rogers, the Duke of Apulia and the young
Count of Sicily, to be one day the first and all but the most famous
of Sicilian kings,” read “both Rogers, the Duke of Apulia and the
Count of Sicily, now drawing near to the end of his stirring life.”
The elder Roger was still alive, though he did not live long after.
p. 343, l. 1. The abbey of Saint Alban’s was not vacant at this time,
see p. 666; and for “thirteen” and “twelve” read “twelve” and
“eleven,” see note.
p. 347, note 2. Orderic is rather full on the circumstances of the
election than on the election itself; see p. 680.
p. 359, l. 11, for “thirteen” read “eleven.”
p. 360, note 1. It must have been at the same time that Abbot Odo of
Chertsey was restored to his abbey. See vol. i. p. 350.
p. 380, note 4. We have had one or two other cases of a church tenant
like this Eadric or Godric, giving back his lease by way of a
benefaction.
p. 389, l. 18. The imperial dignity of Matilda is greatly enlarged on
by the poet of Draco Normannicus, i. 4. Two lines are,
“Suscipit Henricus sponsam, statimque coronat,
Hoc insigne decus maxima Roma dedit.”
p. 396, l. 4. See vol. i. p. 184.
p. 413, l. 6 from bottom, for “in a neighbour” read “a neighbour in.”
p. 416, l. 1. I cannot admit the statement of Flambard’s Durham
biographer, who puts his restoration at this point. It is not so much
that he had no claim to restoration by the general terms of the
treaty, for he might have been specially included in it. But his
restoration at this time is quite inconsistent with Orderic’s account
of his dealings with the bishopric of Lisieux, which cannot be mere
confusion or invention.
p. 450, l. 3. After the words “give thanks to the Lord God,” insert
“for thou hast now begun to be a free king.”
p. 454, l. 13 from bottom, for “his” read “the King’s.”
p. 472, l. 1. This grant of Northallerton must be the same as the
grant mentioned in the charter which I have quoted in p. 535; cf. pp.
299, 508.
p. 487, ll. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. It does not appear that any of the regular
assemblies of the year 1101 was held at Windsor. The Whitsun assembly
(see p. 399) may have been held there, but it is hardly likely. But
the mere confirmation of an earlier grant need not have been made in a
regular gemót.
p. 503, l. 13. For “hanc terram” read “hac terra.”
p. 508. Several gifts of Rufus to the Abbey of Gloucester are recorded
in the Gloucester Cartulary, i. 68, i. 102, i. 115. This last, which
appears again in ii. 293, is a grant to the abbey of the right of
catching sturgeons. This cannot have been one of the grants made
during his sickness at Gloucester (see vol. i. p. 395), as it is dated
from Huntingdon; but in the grant in i. 102, it is expressly said that
it was made when the King was “apud Gloucestriam morbo gravi vexatus.”
In i. 238, 239, 240, Henry and Stephen confirm gifts of their brother
and uncle. The document in ii. 107, which in the index is referred to
William Rufus, clearly belongs to the Conqueror, and to the earlier
part of his reign, before the death of William Fitz-Osbern in 1071; it
refers to the lands of the church of Gloucester which were held by
Archbishop Thomas. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 690.
In the Register of Malmesbury (p. 330) there is a singular charter in
favour of the Abbey of Malmesbury granted during his stay at Hastings
in 1094. It brings in several familiar names great and small, and
illustrates the relations between landowners of any kind and the King
and his huntsmen;
“Willelmus rex Angliæ O. episcopo et W. Hosato, et C.
venatori, et A. falconario, salutem. Sciatis me abbati
Godefrido silvas suas ad custodiendum commendasse. Nolo ergo
ut aliquis forestarius meus de eis se intromittat. Et Croco
venatori præcipio ut de ix. sol. quos super homines suos
placitaverat eum et suos clamet quietos. Teste Willelmo
episcopo, et F. filio Hamonis, R. capellano, apud Hastinge.”
p. 569, heading, for “Losinga” read “Herbert.”
p. 585, l. 1. It is odd that William of Malmesbury should speak of the
all-powerful Roger of Salisbury as “alius quidam episcopus;” for we
see from the Chronicle (see p. 587) that it was no other.
p. 592, l. 10, for “þaes” read “þæs.”
p. 600, l. 6 from bottom. I seem in p. 30 to have taken “puellæ
nostræ” to mean the nuns; but it would rather seem, both here and in
the next page, to mean, other girls sent merely for education, like
Eadgyth herself.
p. 605, l. 8 from bottom. I cannot get rid of a lurking notion that
this “Aldredi” should be “Alberici.” But I do not know how Alberic
could appear with the title of earl in the time of Waltheof.
p. 611, l. 9 from bottom. See M. Paris, ed. Wats, Additamenta, p. 199.
THE REIGN OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
CHAPTER V.
THE WARS OF SCOTLAND, NORTHUMBERLAND, AND WALES.[1]
1093-1098.
[Sidenote: Events of the year 1093.]
[Sidenote: Relations between England and Scotland.]
[Sidenote: War of 1093.]
[Sidenote: Its results.]
[Sidenote: Growth of the English power]
[Sidenote: and of the English nation under William Rufus.]
[Sidenote: The Scottish kingdom becomes English.]
The year of Anselm’s appointment to the archbishopric, that part of
the year which passed between the day when the bishop’s staff was
forced into his hand and the day when he received consecration from
Thomas of Bayeux, was a time full of stirring and memorable events of
quite another kind. It was now that some of the events of former years
were to bring forth fruit. The relations between England and Scotland
were of a kind which might lead to open warfare at any moment.[2] This
year the open warfare came. And it was a warfare which was far more
important in its direct results than mere plundering inroads on either
side of the border commonly were. The direct results of the warfare of
this year were in truth the crowning result of causes which had been
working for a whole generation. It was a singular irony of fate which
made William the Red in some sort a missionary, not only of the
political power of the English kingdom, but of the ascendency of the
English blood and speech. He began the later position of England as an
European power. He extended the boundaries of the kingdom of England
within his own island. And, more than this, he gave decisive help to a
work which wrought one of the greatest of victories, not so much for
England as a power as for the English-speaking folk in their
English-speaking character. That he gave kings to Scotland was a small
matter; that was done by other rulers of England before and after him.
What specially marks his reign is that in his day, and largely by his
agency, it was ruled that, of the three elements in Northern Britain,
British, English, and Scottish or Irish, the English element should
have the upper hand. It was ruled that the kingdom of Scotland,
whatever might be its relations towards the kingdom of England,
whether separate or united, whether dependent or independent, whether
friendly or hostile, should be itself truly an English kingdom, a
kingdom which was for some generations more truly English than the
southern England itself.
[Sidenote: Summary of Scottish affairs.]
[Sidenote: Death of Malcolm; first reign of Donald. 1093.]
[Sidenote: Reign of Duncan.]
[Sidenote: Second reign of Donald. 1094.]
[Sidenote: Establishment of Eadgar. 1097.]
[Sidenote: Revolt of Robert of Mowbray. 1095.]
The Scottish affairs with which we shall have to deal in the present
chapter begin with the controversy between William Rufus and Malcolm
which led to the death of Malcolm in his last invasion of England. On
this follows that first outburst of the true Scottish nationality
which led to the election of Donald, followed by his overthrow and the
establishment of Duncan by the power of England. Then, after a short
interval, comes the second national uprising, and the restoration of
Donald. After a longer interval comes the second overthrow of Donald,
and the establishment of the younger Eadgar by the arms of the elder.
The question was now decided in favour of the line of Malcolm and
Margaret and of the form of English influence which was represented by
that line. And between these two last revolutions we may record, as a
kind of episode for which it is not easy to find a place in the
general run of any other narrative, the revolt and overthrow of the
great earl of Northern England which forms at least a poetical
sequence to the overthrow of Malcolm. Between the second establishment
and the second overthrow of Donald, I propose to tell, in its
chronological order, the tale of the slayers of Malcolm, of Earl
Robert of Mowbray and his kinsman Morel. There is little doubt that
their revolt was connected with movements in Normandy also; but it
would have been hard to describe it in a chapter in which Anselm is
the chief actor. It comes better in its moral and geographical
relation towards the affairs of Scotland.
[Sidenote: Affairs of Wales.]
[Sidenote: Comparison between Wales and Scotland.]
[Sidenote: Disunion in Wales.]
[Sidenote: Effects of the reign on the union of Britain.]
[Sidenote: Its causes.]
[Sidenote: Comparison with Ireland and Normandy.]
But Scotland was not the only land within the four seas of Britain
with which the kingdom of England has much to do, especially in the
way of fighting, within the few years of this memorable reign. The
affairs of Wales are still more constantly coming before our eyes.
While the Red King is on the throne, Welsh warfare supplies, year
after year, no small part of the events which the chronicler of
England has to record. The Welsh history of this time is one of deep
interest on many grounds. But it is specially important as giving us
an example of a third type of conquest in our own island, a conquest
differing widely both from the English Conquest of Britain and from
the Norman Conquest of England. Nor do the affairs of Wales fail to
supply us with some instructive contrasts as compared with the affairs
of Scotland. Scotland and the other dominions of the Scottish king
seem throughout this time to act as a whole, at least as regards
England. The land is conquered, or it wins back its freedom; it
receives foreign influences, or it casts them out; but it seems to do
all these things as a whole. The union was perhaps very much on the
surface, but the events of this time bring whatever there was of union
to the front. The British story, on the other hand, is the story of
disunion in its strongest form. Alike in victory and in defeat, all is
local and personal; common action on the part of the whole nation
seems impossible. The result of English dealings with Wales during
these years may be summed up as immediate loss and final success, as
defeat in detail leading to substantial conquest. It is to this reign
more than to any other that we may trace up the beginning of the chain
of events which has gradually welded together England, Scotland, and
Wales, into the thoroughly united island of Great Britain. The remote
causes begin far earlier; now we begin to enter on the actual story
itself. And from that story we may perhaps draw another lesson. Three
nations, differing in blood and speech, once parted by bitter
enmities, have been worked together into one political whole, while
still keeping so much of old diversity as is really healthy, so much
as hinders a dull and lifeless uniformity, so much as sometimes
kindles to wholesome rivalry in a common cause. But this has been
because the facts of geography allowed and almost compelled their
union; it has been because the nature of the old enmities was such as
did not hinder union. England, Scotland, and Wales, have at various
times done one another a good deal of mischief; there has been no time
when any one of the three held either of the others in abiding Turkish
bondage. But these very facts may teach us that the same result cannot
be looked for in a land where the undying laws of nature and the
events of past history alike forbid it. Such union cannot be where the
boundaries of land and water on the map, where the memory of abiding
Turkish bondage in days not long passed by, join to hinder the same
process of welding together which has so happily taken place among the
three nations of the isle of Britain. William the Red did much for the
final union of Britain, because nature favoured that union. He brought
Normandy under the same rule as England, but only for the two lands to
be again parted asunder, because nature forbad their union. And if it
be true that from the rocks of Saint David’s he looked out on the dim
outline of distant Ireland, he did well to turn away from the
prospect, to bluster and threaten, it may be, but to keep the
practical exercise of his warfare and his policy for other lands. He
did well to keep it, as far as the island world was concerned, for
those lands which, as the event has shown, nature did not forbid to
be, in course of ages, fully united with his kingdom.
§ 1. _The Last Year of Malcolm._ 1093.
[Sidenote: Complaints made by Malcolm.]
[Sidenote: Effects on Scotland of the restoration of Carlisle.]
[Sidenote: Probable wrong to Scotland.]
[Sidenote: Other grounds of offence.]
[Sidenote: Scottish embassy at Gloucester. March, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm summoned to Gloucester.]
[Sidenote: Eadgar sent to bring him.]
We should be glad of a clearer account than we have of the immediate
causes which led to the open breach between William and Malcolm in the
year which followed the restoration of Carlisle. It is certain that
Malcolm complained through an embassy that the King of the English had
failed to carry out the provisions of the treaty made two years
before. Nothing is more likely; it was not the manner of William Rufus
to carry out his treaties with other princes, any more than his
promises to his subjects. Both alike, being parts of his everyday
duty, and not lighted up with the rays of chivalrous honour, were
reckoned by him under the head of those promises which no man can
carry out. But we should be well pleased to know whether the alleged
breach of treaty had anything to do with William’s Cumbrian conquest.
The strengthening of Carlisle, the annexation of its district, could
in no case have been agreeable to the King of Scots. And if, as there
seems every reason to believe, the land had been held by its late lord
Dolfin as a vassal of the Scottish crown, what William had done was a
distinct aggression on the rights of that crown. The superiority of
the English crown over both Scotland and Cumberland would in no way
justify the act; it would have been a wrong done to the Duke of the
Normans if the King of the French had annexed Ponthieu and
strengthened Saint Valery against Normandy. But we are not told
whether this was the ground of offence, or whether William had failed
to carry out any of the clauses of the treaty, those for instance
which secured to the King of Scots certain payments and possessions in
England.[3] What followed may perhaps suggest that, however much the
occupation of Carlisle may have rankled in the mind of Malcolm, the
formal ground of complaint was something of this last kind. Whatever
were his wrongs, the Scottish king sent to complain of them, and the
answer which he received was one which shows that, at this first
stage, Rufus was not disposed to slight the complaint. We are not told
the exact date of this first Scottish embassy. It may very well have
come during the short season of William’s reformation; his seeming
readiness to deal reasonably with the matter, as contrasted with his
conduct a few months later, may pass as one of the fruits of his
temporary penitence, along with the appointment of Anselm and the
promise of good laws. He sent an embassy to Scotland, inviting or
summoning the Scottish King to Gloucester, and giving hostages for his
safety. This looks very much as if the ground of complaint was the
refusal of some of the rights which had been promised to Malcolm
whenever he came to the English court. The Scottish King agreed to
come on these terms. William, in his present frame of mind, was
seemingly anxious to do all honour to the prince with whom he was
dealing. The Scottish ambassadors were sent back to bring their king,
and with them, as the most fitting of mediators, was sent the man who
had himself for a moment been a king, the brother-in-law of Malcolm,
the favoured guest of William, the Ætheling Eadgar.[4]
[Sidenote: Eadgar in favour with William.]
[Sidenote: His mission to Scotland.]
We last heard of Eadgar somewhat more than a year before, when Robert
left England in anger, and Eadgar went with him.[5] This seems to
imply that the relations between William and Eadgar were at that
moment unfriendly. We have no account of Eadgar’s return to England;
but the duty on which he was now sent implies that he was now not only
in William’s formal favour, but in his real confidence. He who had
lately been Malcolm’s representative in a conference with William now
acts as William’s representative in a conference with Malcolm. Eadgar,
like his friend Duke Robert, was clearly one of those men who can act
better on behalf of others than on behalf of themselves.[6] In his
present mission he seems to have acquitted himself to William’s full
satisfaction; the King of Scots was persuaded to come to the English
court. If his coming did not prove specially lucky either to himself
or to the over-lord to whom he came, that was at all events not the
fault of Eadgar.
[Sidenote: Events of the year 1093.]
[Sidenote: Meeting at Gloucester. August 24, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm sets forth. August, 1093.]
While Eadgar was away on his mission to Scotland, he left behind him a
busy state of things in England. His embassy came in the midst of the
long delays between Anselm’s first nomination and his investiture,
enthronement, and consecration. It came in the time when William of Eu
was plotting,[7] and when, as we shall presently see, seeming conquest
was going on throughout Wales. The place and day for which Malcolm was
summoned to the King’s court was Gloucester on the feast of Saint
Bartholomew. This can hardly have been a forestalling of the regular
Christmas Gemót, for which, by the rule of the last reign, Gloucester
was the proper place. But this year, like most years when William
Rufus was in England, was a year of meetings. This cannot be the
meeting at which Anselm was invested and did homage, for that, as we
have seen, was at Winchester.[8] But, if Winchester was near to the
New Forest, Gloucester was near to the Forest of Dean, and would on
that account not be without its attractions for the Red King.[9] Or it
may well be that the presence of the King at Gloucester, both now and
earlier in the year, may have been caused by the convenience of that
city for assemblies in which action against the Britons might have to
be discussed.[10] Malcolm accordingly set forth, “with mickle
worship,” in the beginning of August as it would seem, to go to the
court of the over-lord by the Severn.
[Sidenote: He stops at Durham.]
[Sidenote: Rebuilding of the abbey.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm lays a foundation stone. August 11, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Much of Malcolm’s dominions in Durham diocese.]
[Sidenote: Import of the ceremony.]
On his way he tarried to take part in a great ecclesiastical ceremony,
his share in which was not without a political meaning. The Bishop of
Durham, William of Saint-Calais, now again the King’s chief
counsellor, already his partisan in the opening strife with
Anselm,[11] was ready to begin his great work of rebuilding Saint
Cuthberht’s abbey. The church of Ealdhun, which had escaped the flames
on the day of Robert of Comines,[12] could not really have been
ruinous beyond repair; but, after the fashion of the time, it was
doomed to make way for a building, built not only on a vaster scale,
but in an improved form of art surpassing every contemporary
building.[13] Of the mighty pile which still stands, the glory of
the Northern Romanesque, King Malcolm now laid one of the
foundation-stones, along with Bishop William and Prior Turgot.[14] The
invitation to take part in such a work was clearly meant as a mark of
honour and friendship on both sides. But it must surely have meant
more. The King of Scots could not on any showing have claimed any
authority at Durham. But he was something more than a mere foreign
visitor. As ecclesiastical geography was understood at Durham, Malcolm
was no stranger there; he was rather quite at home. At York he might
have been told that the whole of his dominions owed spiritual
allegiance to that metropolis. But the Bishops of Durham, practically
the only suffragans of the see of York and suffragans almost on a
level with their metropolitan, were at no time specially zealous for
the rights of the Northern Primate. But, as they drew the
ecclesiastical map, a great part of Malcolm’s dominions, his earldom
of Lothian, his Castle of the Maidens, perhaps even lands beyond those
borders, all came within their own immediate spiritual charge. To the
counsellor of King William Malcolm came as the highest vassal of the
English crown; to the Bishop of Durham he came as the highest layman
in his own diocese. As such, he was fittingly asked to take a share in
a work which concerned the kingdom and the church of which he was one
of the chief members. His consent, besides being a mark of friendship
alike towards King William and Bishop William, was doubtless taken as
an acknowledgement that he belonged to the temporal realm of the one
and to the spiritual fold of the other. And if Malcolm had learned any
of the subtleties of some of his contemporaries and of some of his
successors, he might have comforted himself with the thought that,
whatever the laying of the stone implied, it was laid only by the Earl
of Lothian and not by the King of Scots.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Malcolm at Gloucester. August 24, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Rufus refuses to see Malcolm.]
[Sidenote: Dispute between the kings.]
[Sidenote: Question of “doing right.”]
[Sidenote: Probable pretensions of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: William in the wrong.]
[Sidenote: William observes his safe-conduct.]
From Durham and its ceremonies Malcolm, Earl and King, went on to the
court of the over-lord at Gloucester. He had evidently come disposed
to make the best of matters, as William himself had been during his
time of sickness and penitence. But now in August Rufus was himself
again; he had repented of his repentance; he was more than ever puffed
up with pride and with the feeling of his own power. Out of mere
insolence, it would seem, in defiance of the advice of his counsellors
who wished for peace, he refused to have any speech with, or even to
see, the royal vassal and guest who had made such a journey to come to
his presence.[15] Whatever passed between the kings must have passed
by way of message through third parties. In one account we read
generally that Rufus would do nothing of what he had promised to
Malcolm.[16] In another version we are told, with all the precision of
legal language, that William demanded that Malcolm should “do right”
to him by the judgement of the barons of England only, while Malcolm
maintained that he was bound by ancient custom to “do right” only on
the borders of the two kingdoms, where the kings of Scots were wont to
“do right” to the kings of the English, and that by the judgement of
the great men of both kingdoms.[17] The meaning of these words is
plainly open to dispute, and it has naturally given rise to not a
little.[18] Their most natural meaning seems to be that William wished
to deal with the kingdom of Scotland as with an ordinary fief. Such a
claim would have been against all precedent, and it would be specially
dangerous when William Rufus was king and when Randolf Flambard was
his minister. On the other hand, Malcolm in no way denies the
superiority of the English crown; he stands simply on the ground of
ancient custom. He is ready to “do right,” a process clearly to be
done by an inferior to a superior; but he will do it only as by
ancient custom it was wont to be done. Because a kingdom acknowledged
the external superiority of another kingdom, it did not at all follow
that its king was bound to submit himself to the judgement of the
barons of the superior kingdom. The original commendation had been
made, not only by the King of Scots, but by the whole Scottish
people,[19] and their king might fairly claim that he should have the
advice and help of his own Wise Men in making answer to any charge
that was brought against him. This is one of the cases in which the
use of technical language, without any full explanation of the
circumstances, really makes a matter darker; and we must perhaps be
content to leave the exact point at issue unsettled. But it is plain
from the English Chronicle that William was in the wrong; he refused
to do something for Malcolm which he had promised to do. The
obligations of a treaty sat lightly on the Red King; but on one point
his honour was pledged. Malcolm had come under a safe-conduct――the
sending of hostages, if nothing else, shows it. And a safe-conduct
from Rufus might always be trusted. We cannot say that the two kings
parted in wrath, seeing they did not meet at all. But Malcolm
naturally went away in great wrath, and he left Rufus behind him in
great wrath also. He reached his own kingdom in safety; what he did
with the hostages we are not told.[20]
* * * * *
[Illustration:
Map
illustrating the
NORTHUMBRIAN CAMPAIGNS
A.D. 1093-95.
Edwᵈ. Weller
_For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press._]
[Sidenote: Malcolm’s last invasion of England.]
[Sidenote: He draws near to Alnwick.]
[Sidenote: Alnwick castle.]
[Sidenote: Alnwick and the Percies.]
[Sidenote: The first Percy at Alnwick. 1309.]
[Sidenote: The true Percies.]
[Sidenote: The Vescies at Alnwick.]
[Sidenote: 1174.]
The silly pride shown by William Rufus at Gloucester led to a series
of events of the highest importance both as to the relations between
England and Scotland, and as to the internal affairs of the northern
kingdom. As soon as Malcolm reached Scotland, he gathered together his
forces, and began his fifth, and, as it happened, his last, invasion
of England. He entered the earldom of Northumberland, and harried
after his usual fashion as far as some point which, there is no reason
to doubt, was in the near neighbourhood of Alnwick. We may fairly
accept the tradition which carries him to the spot known as Malcolm’s
Cross, where a commemorative rood once stood, and where the ruins of a
Romanesque chapel may still be seen. The spot is on high ground
overlooking the river Alne, while on the opposite side of the stream a
lower height is crowned by the town of Alnwick, and by such remains of
its famous castle as modern innovation has spared. The neighbourhood
of that castle, the fame of the historic house which once held it, has
caused every place and every act into which the name of Alnwick or of
Percy can be dragged to be surrounded by an atmosphere of legend. It
needs some little effort to take in the fact that, as the Percies of
history have long passed away from Alnwick, so in the days of Malcolm
some centuries had to pass before the Percies of history reached
Alnwick. It needs some further effort to take in the further fact that
the true Percy, the Percy of Domesday, the Percy of Yorkshire, never
had anything to do with Alnwick or with Northumberland at all. And it
perhaps needs a further effort again to take in the fact that it is by
no means clear whether in the days of Malcolm there was any castle of
Alnwick in being. One may guess that the site had been fortified at
some earlier time; but the known history of Alnwick, castle and abbey,
begins with the works of the elder lords of Alnwick, the house of
Vescy, in the next century.[21] Of that date a noble gateway has still
been spared, which may well have looked on the captivity of the
Scottish William in the days of Henry the Second, but which assuredly
did not look on the death of Malcolm in the days of the Red King. The
height to which Malcolm’s harryings reached may have looked down on
some earlier fortress beyond the Alne, or it may simply have looked
down on the town of Alnwick, which was doubtless already in being. But
whatever was there at that time in the way of artificial defence,
there were stout hearts and a wary leader ready to meet the king who
was invading England for the fifth time.
[Sidenote: English feeling about Malcolm.]
[Sidenote: Death of Malcolm. November 13, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm slain by Morel.]
It is certainly strange that in not a few English writers, generally
indeed those who are parted from the event by some distance of time
and place, the overthrow of the invaders which now followed is told
with a certain feeling for the invader and with a certain feeling
against those who overthrew him. Malcolm perhaps drew to himself some
share of the national and religious halo which gathered round his
wife, while there was nothing attractive, either on national or on
personal grounds, in the men who at that time stood forth as the
champions of England. Yet it must have been the “good men” of two
years past[22] who now went forth under the cunning guidance of Earl
Robert of Mowbray. By some ambush or other stratagem, that skilful
captain led his forces on the Scottish King unawares, under
circumstances which are not detailed, but which have led even English
writers to speak of the attack as treacherous.[23] Malcolm was killed;
and with him died his son and expected heir Eadward. They fell on the
day of Saint Brice, ninety-one years after the great slaughter of the
Danes which has made that day memorable in the kalendar of
England.[24] The actual slayer of Malcolm was his gossip Morel, Earl
Robert’s nephew and steward, guardian of the rock and fortress of
Bamburgh. From him it would seem that Alnwick, or perhaps rather the
dale between Alnwick and Malcolm’s Cross, took the name of
_Moreldene_.[25] Morel was, it was noticed, the gossip, the
_compater_, of Malcolm, as William Malet was of Harold;[26] and it
seems almost to be implied, by writers far away from Alnwick, that
this spiritual affinity made the slaughter of the invader a crime.
[Sidenote: Burial of Malcolm at Tynemouth.]
[Sidenote: History of Tynemouth.]
[Sidenote: Martyrdom of King Oswine.]
[Sidenote: First church of Tynemouth.]
[Sidenote: Invention of Saint Oswine. March 15, 1065.]
[Sidenote: Tostig begins the new church.]
[Sidenote: Tynemouth granted to Jarrow by Waltheof.]
[Sidenote: Earl Robert grants Tynemouth to Saint Alban’s.]
[Sidenote: Death of Abbot Paul. 1093.]
[Sidenote: Translation of Saint Oswine. August 23, 1103.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm translated to Dunfermline.]
The body of Malcolm, like the bodies of Harold and Waltheof, received
a first burial and a later translation. It was first borne to the
church of Saint Oswine at Tynemouth, a place which was growing into
great reputation under the special favour of Earl Robert. Through his
bounty the walls of a new minster were rising within his fortress
which crowned the rocky height on the left bank of the mouth of the
great Northumbrian river. That fortress and that minster will again
play a memorable part in the chequered history of their founder. But
the church of Saint Oswine, the martyred King of Deira, did not owe
its first origin to Robert of Mowbray or to any other stranger.[27]
The body of the sainted king, slain by the practice of the Bretwalda
Oswin, was laid in a church which was said to have been first built of
wood by the Bretwalda Eadwine, and then rebuilt of stone by the
sainted Bretwalda Oswald. The position of Tynemouth marked it out as a
special point for attack and defence in the days of the Danish
invasions; but, after the havoc which they caused, the holy place had
been neglected and forgotten. In the days of Earl Tostig and Bishop
Æthelwine the pious care of the Earl’s wife Judith had led to the
invention of the martyr’s relics, and to the beginning of a new
church. Of that church Tostig laid the foundations in the year of his
fall, but men of another speech were to finish it. The unfinished
church was granted by Earl Waltheof to the monks of the newly restored
house of Jarrow, and his gift was confirmed by the Norman Earl
Alberic. A gift to Jarrow proved, as events turned out, to be the same
thing as a gift to Durham; but, before the change of foundation at
Durham, the monks of Jarrow had removed the relics of Saint Oswine
from Tynemouth to their own church. With the reign of Earl Robert a
change came. Out of devotion, and at the heavenly bidding, as was
believed at Saint Alban’s――out of a quarrel with Bishop William, as
was believed at Durham――but at all events out of a feeling for the
memory of Oswine which showed that he had learned some reverence for
the worthies of the land in which he had settled――Earl Robert deprived
the church of Durham of this possession, and refounded Tynemouth as a
cell to the distant abbey of Saint Alban. Abbot Paul came in person to
take possession, in defiance of all protests on behalf of Durham,
where it was believed that his death which soon followed was the
punishment of this wrong. Saint Oswine himself was not translated back
to Tynemouth till the power of Robert of Mowbray had passed away. But
the church on the rock became famous, and it fills a considerable
place in the local history of Saint Alban’s. There, in the chosen
sanctuary of his conqueror, the body of Malcolm lay for awhile. He was
afterwards moved to his own Dunfermline[28], where the pillars of his
minster, in their deep channellings, bear witness to an abiding tie,
at least of the artistic kind, between the royal abbey of Scotland and
the great church of Northern England of which a Scottish king laid the
foundation-stone.
[Sidenote: Local estimate of Malcolm’s death.]
But, if English writers in later times, and even men who wrote at the
time in distant parts of England, found some flowers to strew on the
tomb of the husband of the saintly daughter of the old kingly line, no
such feelings were shared by those who had seen Malcolm and his
invading host at their own doors. The chronicler who wrote nearest to
the spot stops, as he records the death of Malcolm, to mark the
judgement of God which cut off the merciless enemy of England. He
stops to reckon up all the times that Malcolm had laid waste the
fields of Northumberland, and had carried away the folk of
Northumberland into bondage.[29] He tells with glee how the invading
host utterly vanished; how they were either cut down by the sword of
the avenger, or swept away by the floods of Alne, swollen by the
winter’s rain beyond its wonted depth and strength.[30] He records the
burial at Tynemouth; but he takes care to tell how none of the
Scottish host was left to bury the Scottish king, but how the charity
of two men of the land bore him on a wain to the place of burial.[31]
And he adds the moral, equally applicable to all ambitious kings, that
he who had deprived so many of life and goods and freedom now, by
God’s just judgement, lost his life and his goods together.[32]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Character of Margaret.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm’s devotion to her.]
[Sidenote: Margaret’s education of her children.]
[Sidenote: Her sons;]
[Sidenote: David;]
[Sidenote: Eadmund.]
The invading king was dead, and with him the son whom he had designed
to wear his crown after him was dead also. The saintly wife of Malcolm
and mother of Eadward was soon to follow her husband and her son. Of
the true holiness of Margaret, of her zeal, not only for a formal
devotion, but for all that is morally right, none can doubt.[33] A
woman evidently of great natural gifts and of a cultivation unusual in
her time, she deeply impressed all whom she came across, her own
husband most of all. To Malcolm his Margaret was indeed a pearl of
great price, to be cherished, almost to be worshipped, as already a
saint on earth. She taught him to share her devotions, till men
wondered at such piety in a man of this world.[34] It is touching to
read how the unlettered king loved to look with wonder on the books in
which his queen delighted; how those which she delighted in more than
others he would cherish and kiss like holy relics, how he would have
them adorned with gold and gems, and would then bring them back to his
wife in their new splendour, as sacred offerings.[35] Her prayers, her
fasts, her never-failing bounty to the poor, stand out in her
biography even more conspicuously than her gifts to churches, to
distant Iona among them.[36] It is perhaps a rarer merit that the
influence of her personal example hindered the slightest approach to
foul or profane speech in her presence,[37] and that her careful
education of her children handed on her virtues to another generation.
For Margaret was not one of those who sought for their own soul’s
health in neglecting the most obvious duties of the state of life to
which God had called them. In the petty and selfish devotion of her
great-uncle she had no share; called to be wife, mother, and queen, it
was by doing her duty as wife, mother, and queen that she won her
claim to a higher saintship than that of Æthelthryth at Ely or of
Eadgyth at Wilton. The witness of Margaret is in her children,
children many of whom bore the great and kingly names of her own
house. The careful training which the Conqueror gave to his children
showed its fruits in his daughters only; the teaching of Margaret
lived in her sons as well. Eadward died with his father; but in Eadgar
and Alexander and the more renowned David, she gave three kings to
Scotland, of whom the two latter were kings indeed, while all three
inherited the gentleness and piety of their mother, along with the
virtue so rare among the princes of that day, the strictest purity of
personal life.[38] David, son-in-law of Waltheof, who gave Scotland
worthy heirs to succeed him, surely ranks higher on the roll of royal
saints than Eadward, son-in-law of Godwine, who left England to the
chances of a disputed succession. One child only of this goodly stock
is spoken of as falling away from the bright example of his
parent.[39] Yet Eadmund, alone of the children of Margaret, lived to
become a cloistered monk; and he was perhaps deemed degenerate only
because he fell back on the character of a Scottish patriot of an
older type.
[Sidenote: Margaret’s reforms.]
[Sidenote: State of religion in Scotland.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm acts as his wife’s interpreter.]
[Sidenote: She increases the pomp of the Scottish court.]
[Sidenote: Her early associations.]
[Sidenote: Feeling of the Scots.]
Had Margaret confined her cares to bringing up her own children in
strict piety and virtue, one of her sons would in all likelihood have
mounted his father’s throne immediately after the bloody day of
Alnwick. But in Malcolm’s kingdom she came, in her own eyes at least,
as the representative of a higher morality, a purer religion, and a
more advanced civilization, and she felt specially called on to play
the part of a reformer. The ecclesiastical condition of Scotland was
by no means perfect, according to the standard which Margaret had
brought with her. The Scots still kept Easter at a wrong time; they
said mass in some way which at Durham was deemed barbarous;[40] they
cared not for the Lord’s day; and they are said to have neglected the
most ordinary Christian rules in the matter of marriage. They took to
wife, after Jewish models, the widows of their brothers, and even,
after old Teutonic models, the widows of their fathers. All these
evils, ecclesiastical and moral, Margaret set herself zealously to
root out. Councils were gathered to work the needful reforms, and
Margaret found her husband an useful interpreter. For the king who had
been placed on the Scottish throne by the will of Eadward and the arms
of Siward naturally spoke the English tongue as readily as that of his
own people.[41] But Margaret was a queen as well as a saint; and she
either took a personal pleasure in the pomp of royalty or else she
deemed royal state to be wholesome in its effects on the minds of the
barbarous people. The King of Scots was taught to show himself in more
gorgeous apparel, to ride with a greater and more stately train, than
his forefathers had been wont to do. But the righteous queen knew
something of the evils which might come of a king’s great and stately
following, and she took care that the train of King Malcolm should
not, like the train of King William, pass among the fields and
households of his people like a blight or a pestilence[42]. That
Margaret should innovate in the direction of state and ceremony was
not wonderful. Daughter of kings, kinswoman, perhaps daughter, of
Cæsars, she had, in her childhood and youth, seen something of many
lands. She may have seen the crown of Saint Stephen, still in its
freshness, on the brow of a Magyar king, and the crown of Charles and
Otto on the brow of an Imperial kinsman. She had assuredly seen King
Eadward, King Harold, and King William, in all the glory of the crown
to which her husband’s crown owed homage. And we may be sure that the
kingly state of Scotland was mean besides that of Germany, of England,
and even of Hungary. Margaret might well think it a duty to herself
and to her husband to raise him in outward things nearer to a level
with his brother kings both of the island and of the mainland. But the
policy of such a course, among such a people as the Scots of that age,
may well be doubted. A fierce race, hard to control at any time, may
well have had no great love for an outward show of kingship, which
would be taken, and rightly, as the sign of a growth of the kingly
power such as agreed neither with their customs nor with their wishes.
[Sidenote: English influence in Scotland.]
[Sidenote: Scottish feeling towards Margaret.]
[Sidenote: English and Norman settlers.]
[Sidenote: Jealousy of the native Scots.]
Margaret moreover was a stranger in Scotland. One can well believe
that the native Scots were already beginning to be jealous of English
influence in any shape. Before Margaret came, they must have felt that
the English element in the triple dominion was growing into greater
importance than their own. Lothian was becoming greater than the true
Scottish land beyond the Scots’-water. Fife, it may well be, was
already becoming as Lothian. Malcolm himself had been placed on the
throne by English arms; he had become the man of two kings who were
politically English, though they held England as a conquered realm.
His five invasions of England must have been quite needful to keep up
even Malcolm’s character among his own people. And his English queen,
bringing in English ways, trying to turn Scotland into another
England, stopping good old Scottish customs and good old Scottish
licence, tricking out the King of Albanach in some new devised foreign
garb, English, Norman, German, or Hungarian, must have been looked at
in her own time, by the Scots of her own day, with very different
feelings towards the living queen from those with which they soon
learned to look towards the national saint. She came too with her
English following, and her English following was only the first wave
of many which came to strengthen the English element which was already
strong in the land. While Malcolm and Margaret reigned, Scotland, the
land which had sheltered Margaret and her house in their days of
banishment, stood open to receive, and its king’s court stood open to
welcome, every comer from the south. Native Englishmen flying from
Norman oppression and Norman plunder,――Normans who thought that their
share in the plunder of England was too small――men of both races, of
both tongues, of every class and rank among the two races,――all found
a settlement across the Scottish border. The King spoke English; the
Queen most likely spoke French also; Englishmen and Normans alike
seemed civilizing elements among the people whom Margaret had to
polish and to convert. Both Normans and English kept Easter at the
right time, and neither Normans nor English thought of marrying their
step-mothers. Scotland and the court of Scotland were crowded with
English and Norman knights, with English and Norman clerks. They got
benefices, temporal and spiritual, in the Scottish land. They may have
converted; they may have civilized; but conversion and civilization
are processes which are not always specially delighted in by those who
are to be converted and civilized. Anyhow they were strangers, brought
into the land by kingly favour, to flourish, as men would naturally
deem, at the cost of the sons of the soil. The national spirit of the
Scottish people arose; the jealousy of the strangers established in
the land waxed stronger and stronger. It might be in some measure kept
down as long as novelty was embodied in the persons of the warrior
king and the holy queen. As soon as they were gone, the pent-up
torrent burst forth in its full strength.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The news of Malcolm’s death brought to Margaret.
November 17, 1093.]
[Sidenote: English version of her death.]
[Sidenote: Turgot’s version.]
[Sidenote: Her burial at Dunfermline.]
The first to bring the news of the death of her husband and son to the
ears of Margaret was another of her sons, the future King Eadgar. As
the tale reached Peterborough, Worcester, and Saint Evroul, the Queen,
when she heard the tidings, became as one dead at heart; she settled
her temporal affairs; she gave gifts to the poor; then she entered the
church with her chaplain; she communicated at the mass which he sang;
she prayed that her soul might pass away, and her prayer was
granted.[43] This is a version which has already received a legendary
element. It is not, strictly speaking, miraculous, but is on the way
to become so. A person, seemingly in health, is made to die in answer
to prayer on the receipt of ill news. The tale, as told by an
eye-witness, is different. The Queen had long been expecting death;
for half a year she had never mounted a horse, and had but seldom left
her bed.[44] On the fourth day after her husband’s death, feeling
somewhat stronger, she went into her private oratory; she heard mass,
and communicated. Her sickness increased; she was taken back to her
bed, holding and kissing a relic known as the Black Cross of
Scotland,[45] and waiting for her end. She prayed and repeated the
fifty-first psalm,[46] with the cross in her hand. The agony was
already near when Eadgar came from the war. She was able to ask after
his father and brother. Fearing to distress his mother yet more,
Eadgar said that they were well.[47] Margaret conjured him as her son,
and by the cross which she had in her hand, to speak the truth. He
then told her the grievous tale. She murmured not, nor sinned with her
lips.[48] She could even give thanks for her sorrows, sent, as she
deemed, to cleanse her from her sins.[49] As one who had just partaken
of the holy rite, she began the prayer which follows communion, and,
as she prayed, her soul left the world. The deadly paleness passed
away from her face, and she lay, red and white, as one sleeping.[50]
The place of her death was Edinburgh, the castle of maidens;[51] her
body was borne to Dunfermline and buried there, before the altar of
the church of the Holy Trinity of her own rearing.[52]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Scottish feeling towards her.]
[Sidenote: A Scottish king to be chosen.]
[Sidenote: Election of Donald.]
[Sidenote: He drives out the English.]
We read the touching tale with different feelings from those with
which it was heard at the moment by Scots who clave to old Scottish
ways, good or bad. We have even hints that the funeral of the sainted
queen could not go from Edinburgh to Dunfermline without danger. It
needed either a miracle or the natural phænomena of the country to
enable the body of the English lady to be carried out of one gate of
the Castle of the Maidens, while the champions of the old times of
Scotland were thundering at another.[53] Such a story may be legendary
in its details, but it is clearly no legend, but true tradition, as
regards the national feeling of the times which it describes.
Scotland, at the time of Malcolm’s death, was still torn by local and
dynastic factions;[54] but all parties in the old Scottish realm were
agreed on one point. They would have no more innovations from England
or from Normandy; they would have no more English or Norman strangers
to eat up their land in their own sight. They would have no son of
Margaret, no son even of Malcolm, to reign over them; they would again
have a king of the true stock of Albanach, who should reign after the
old ways of Albanach and none other. The settled English element south
of the Scots’-water would be weak against such a movement as this; or
indeed it may be that the men of Lothian were no more eager to be
reformed after Margaret’s fashion than the men of Scotland and
Strathclyde. Such a king as was needed was soon found in the person of
Donald Bane, Donald the Red――Scotland had her Rufus as well as
England――the brother of the late king and son of that Duncan who had
been cut off in his youth in the civil war between his house and the
house of Macbeth.[55] He was at once raised to the Scottish crown as
the representative of Scottish nationality. His first act was
emphatic; “he drave out all the English that ere with the King Malcolm
were.”[56]
[Sidenote: Meaning of the words.]
[Sidenote: Margaret’s children driven out.]
[Sidenote: Action of the elder Eadgar.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm’s daughters;]
[Sidenote: Mary;]
[Sidenote: Eadgyth or Matilda;]
[Sidenote: her sojourn at Romsey.]
[Sidenote: Malcolm at Romsey.]
[Sidenote: Her relations with Henry.]
[Sidenote: Tale of Eadgyth and William Rufus.]
This is of course no more to be understood of a general driving out of
the settled English inhabitants of Lothian than the massacre of Saint
Brice is to be understood of a general slaughter of the settled Danish
inhabitants of Lincolnshire and Yorkshire.[57] The driving out was
confined to the newly come English, who filled the court of Malcolm
and Margaret, and who doubtless kept, or seemed to keep, many a
true-born Scot from the favour of his king. For these there was to be
no longer a place in the Scottish realm or in the other dominions of
its sovereign. They had to go and seek shelter in their own land. The
language of our guides suggests that they were mainly English in the
strictest sense; though we cannot but fancy that some Normans or other
strangers may have crept in among them.[58] One thing is certain;
among the English that ere with the King Malcolm were his own children
by his English wife held a place. Of his sons Eadmund and Æthelred we
cannot speak with certainty; but Eadgar, Alexander, and David, had to
flee, and the Scottish story describes their uncle the Ætheling Eadgar
as in some way helping their escape. He did it, we are told, by
stealth, that he might not kindle any suspicion in the Norman King of
England.[59] It is hard to see what Eadgar, who could not have been in
Scotland at the time of his sister’s death, could have done for her
children till they were at least within the English border, and there
is nothing to make us think that Eadgar had in any way lost that full
favour with William Rufus which he had enjoyed at the beginning of the
year. But the mere use of his name witnesses to the belief that he who
could do so little for himself was able to do a good deal for others.
In this story he is said to have sheltered his sister’s daughters as
well as her sons. More trustworthy accounts say that Eadgyth and Mary
had already been sent by their parents to be brought up in the abbey
of Romsey, where their aunt Christina was a nun.[60] Mary in time
married the younger Eustace of Boulogne, and was the mother of a Queen
of the English, that valiant Matilda who strove so well to keep the
English crown for her husband Stephen.[61] Eadgyth, in her loftier
destiny, will meet us again under the new name which she had to share
with her niece and to hand on to an Imperial daughter.[62] The second
Queen Matilda of our story, the good Queen Maud of tradition, had been
designed to be the bride of the Breton Count Alan.[63] That was not to
be her fate; neither was it to be her fate to embrace the holy calling
which her aunt Christina strove to force upon her. For the present she
remained unprofessed, loathing the veil which her aunt ever and anon
put upon her head, to shield her, as she said, from Norman
outrage.[64] When Christina’s back was turned, the lively girl tore
the veil from her head and trampled on it.[65] Her father too, on some
visit to England――could he have turned aside to Romsey before or after
his memorable visit to Gloucester?――saw the veil on her head with
anger; he had not designed her for that, but for the bridal of Count
Alan. It seems plain that her marriage with Henry was a marriage of
old affection on both sides, and one version even makes the Ætheling
seek for her as his wife in her father’s lifetime. One version,
strange indeed, but perhaps the more likely to have some truth in it
because of its strangeness, gives her an unlooked-for lover. We are
told that, for once, in the person of Eadgyth of Scotland, female
charms kindled in the heart of the Red King a passion which in his
case might be called virtuous.[66] He came to Romsey with a body of
his knights; the wily abbess, dreading his purpose, caused Eadgyth to
put on the veil. She then drew the King into the cloister to see her
roses and other flowers; but he caught a glimpse of the nuns as they
passed by; he saw the veil on the head of Eadgyth, and turned away.
She was then twelve years old. Presently her father came; he saw her
veiled; he tore the veil from her head, he trampled it under his feet,
and took away his daughter. Such a tale must be taken for what it is
worth; but the picture of William Rufus contemplating either maidens
or roses at least puts him in a light in which we do not meet him
elsewhere.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Christmas, 1093-1094.]
[Sidenote: Events of 1094.]
[Sidenote: Order of Scottish events.]
A series of events now follow which our guides seem to place within
the year of Malcolm’s death, but for which room can hardly have been
found in the few weeks of it which were still to come. The winter of
that year, it will be remembered, was a stirring winter. It saw the
consecration of Anselm; it saw the Gemót at Gloucester at which
William received the challenge from his brother in Normandy;[67] it
saw the first beginnings of fresh disputes between the King and the
Archbishop.[68] The next year was the year of William’s second Norman
expedition, and it is clear that his absence from England had an
influence on the affairs of Scotland, as it undoubtedly had on those
of Wales. The election of Donald and the driving out of the English
from Scotland may have followed as swiftly on the deaths of Malcolm
and Margaret as the election of Harold followed on the death of
Eadward or the election of Henry on the death of William Rufus. But we
can hardly find room for an English expedition to Scotland, for the
establishment of a new king, and for a domestic revolution limiting
his powers, between the driving out of the English and the last day of
the year. One is inclined to think that the Gemót of Gloucester saw a
discussion of the affairs of Scotland as well as of the affairs of
Normandy, and that the results of that discussion, direct consequences
as they were of the death of Malcolm and the election of Donald, were
set down under the year in which the chain of events began, though
some of them must, almost in the nature of things, have really
happened in the year which followed.
[Sidenote: Gemót of Gloucester. Christmas, 1093-1094.]
[Sidenote: Duncan claims the Scottish crown.]
[Sidenote: Duncan’s Norman education.]
[Sidenote: He receives the crown from William.]
[Sidenote: 1054.]
[Sidenote: 1332.]
[Sidenote: He wins it by the help of Norman and English volunteers.
1094.]
[Sidenote: Second revolution; the foreigners driven out.]
[Sidenote: May? 1094.]
I am inclined therefore to think that it must have been at the
Christmas assembly which decreed the war with Robert that a claimant
appeared to demand the Scottish crown at the hands of the southern
over-lord. This was Duncan, the son of Malcolm and Ingebiorg. He was
in truth the eldest of Malcolm’s children, and, though, under the
influence of a new set of ideas, it became usual to speak of him as a
kind of Ishmael, he was most likely as lawful an heir to the Scottish
throne as any of the three kings who were sons of the English
saint.[69] In itself the succession of Duncan would have seemed an
intermediate course between the succession of Donald and the
succession of Margaret’s son Eadgar. But Duncan, given years ago as a
hostage to William the Great,[70] had long been a follower of William
the Red. He lived in his court, and did him faithful service as his
man and his knight. He must have been unknown in Scotland, and his
feelings and habits must have been those of a Norman rather than those
of a Scot. He represented neither the old Scottish traditions which
were embodied in Donald nor yet the new foreign reformation which was
embodied in Margaret and her sons. It was no wonder then that no party
in his father’s kingdom thought of his claims at his father’s death.
But he now came to the King’s court; he set forth the usurpation of
his uncle Donald and his own rights; he demanded the crown of his
father, and did homage for it to the Monarch of Britain.[71] The event
is singularly like the earlier event which had placed Duncan’s own
father on the Scottish throne; it is still more like the later event
which gave Scotland a momentary king in Edward Balliol. The King’s
designs on Normandy hindered him from either marching himself to the
help of Duncan or sending any part of the regular forces of his
kingdom. But Duncan was allowed to get together a body of volunteers,
English and French――doubtless of any nation that he could find――at
whose head he marched into Scotland. He overthrew his uncle Donald,
and took possession of the throne by the help of his new allies.[72]
Details are lacking; the Scots must have been overthrown for a moment
by some sudden attack. What follows is instructive. The reign of
Duncan, as a king surrounded by a Norman and English following, was
but for a moment. But there was clearly no feeling in Scotland against
allowing him to reign, if he were willing to reign as a national Scot.
The people, startled for a moment, took heart again. A new movement
broke forth; the King was surrounded, and the foreigners who
accompanied him were this time, not driven out, but slaughtered. He
himself escaped with a few only.[73] But, this work once done, the son
of Malcolm was not less willingly received than his brother. Donald
was not restored; but Duncan was accepted as King of Scots on
condition of his allowing no English or French settlers within his
realm.[74]
[Sidenote: Death of Duncan and restoration of Donald. November? 1094.]
[Sidenote: Second reign of Donald. 1094-1097.]
We may perhaps suspect that this national movement in Scotland was
timed so as to grasp the favourable moment when the King of the
English, with the mass of his forces, was beyond the sea. This is more
clearly marked in the next revolution, which took place towards the
end of the year. While King William was still in Normandy, while the
Welsh were in triumphant revolt, a powerful confederacy was formed
against Duncan. Donald now leagued himself with Malpeter, the Mormaor
of Mærne, the representative of the old party of Macbeth, and also
with Eadmund, son of Malcolm and Margaret. This last, their only
degenerate son, as he is called, joined with his uncle against his
half-brother. He was lured, it is said, by the promise of half the
kingdom.[75] Duncan was slain, by treachery, we are told, and Donald
began a second reign.[76] This revolution was perhaps among the causes
which brought William back from Normandy.[77] But both English and
Welsh affairs were in a state which forbade any immediate intervention
in Scotland. William had to put up with the insults which he had
received, the driving out of his subjects and the slaughter of the
king to whom he had given the kingdom. Donald was allowed to reign
without disturbance for three years.
§ 2. _The Revolt of Robert of Mowbray._ 1095-1096.
[Sidenote: Events contemporary with Donald’s second reign.]
The three years of Donald’s second reign were contemporary with much
that we have already told, with the whole dispute between William and
Anselm, with the preaching of the crusade, with the acquisition of
Normandy. They were contemporary with stirring events in Wales which
we shall speak of in another section. And they were contemporary with
events in England which, as I have said, have a kind of connexion with
the fate of Malcolm which makes it seem on the whole most natural to
speak of them at this point. We will now therefore go on to the chief
English event of the year which followed the second accession of
Donald, namely the revolt of Robert Earl of Northumberland.
[Sidenote: Conspiracy against William Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Mowbray marries Matilda of Laigle.]
[Sidenote: His dealings with the Earl of Chester and the Bishop of
Durham.]
[Sidenote: Other conspirators.]
[Sidenote: William of Eu.]
[Sidenote: Conspiracy in favour of Stephen of Aumale.]
It is not the least strange among the strange events of this reign
that the only rebellion against William Rufus within his kingdom,
after that which immediately followed his accession, was directly
occasioned by one of the few good deeds which are recorded of him. The
King did a simple act of justice; one of his greatest nobles at once
openly rebelled, and the open rebellion of one brought to light the
hidden conspiracy of many more. We may be sure that there had long
been a good deal of lurking discontent which was waiting for even a
slight opportunity to break forth into a flame. The conspiracy was
devised among men of the highest rank and power, some of them near of
kindred to the King; and the open rebel was certainly the foremost man
of his own generation in the kingdom. There were in the days of Rufus
grounds enough for discontent and revolt among any class, and there
were special grounds which specially touched the men of highest rank.
They are said to have been offended by the King’s general harshness,
and, above all, by the strictness of his hunting-code.[78] The head
and author of the seditious movement was the stern guardian of the
northern frontier of the kingdom, Robert of Mowbray Earl of
Northumberland. He is said to have been specially puffed up to
rebellion by his successes against Malcolm and his Scots.[79] But,
great as he deemed himself, he held that he might become greater by a
powerful alliance. The gloomy Earl, with whom speech and laughter were
so rare, thought to help his projects by taking a wife. He married
Matilda of Laigle, the daughter of that Richer who died so worthily
beneath the keep of Sainte-Susanne,[80] the sister of that Gilbert
whom we have seen foremost in the work of slaughter among the
seditious citizens of Rouen.[81] Her mother Judith was the sister of
Earl Hugh of Chester; and Robert seems to have entangled his new uncle
in his rebellious schemes. One would have thought that Bishop William
of Durham had had enough of rebellion. He was now as high in the
King’s favour and counsels as any man in the realm. He was, or at
least had been, on bad terms with his neighbour Earl Robert;[82] and
it is hard to see what can have been his temptation to join in any
seditious movement. Yet we know that there were churchmen concerned in
the conspiracy;[83] it is certain that Bishop William lost the King’s
favour about this time; and there seems little doubt that he was at
least suspected of being in league with the Earl. Others concerned are
said to have been Philip of Montgomery, son of the late Earl of
Shrewsbury,[84] Roger of Lacy, great in Herefordshire and in several
other shires,[85] and one nearer to the royal house than all, William
of Eu, the late stirrer up of strife between the King and his brother.
The object of the conspiracy was said to be to put the King to death,
and to give the crown to Stephen of Aumale, the son of Adelaide, whole
sister of the Conqueror, by her third husband, Odo Count of Champagne
and lord of Holderness.[86]
[Sidenote: No general support for the plot.]
[Sidenote: No ground for Stephen’s claim.]
In short, the two men who had been the first to put castles into the
King’s hands in Normandy were now plotting against him in England.
Stephen of Aumale was to receive the English crown at the bidding of
William of Eu. Such a conspiracy as this must have been merely the
device of a few discontented nobles; it could have met with no broad
ground of general support among men of any class. No doubt many men of
all ranks and of all races would have been well pleased to get rid of
William; but there must surely have been few who seriously hoped to
set up Stephen of Aumale as his successor. By a solemn treaty only
five years old, the reigning Duke of the Normans was marked out as the
successor to the English crown.[87] And if that arrangement was held
to be set aside by later warfare between the brothers, there was
nothing to bar the natural claims of Henry. Neither Norman nor English
feeling could have endured that the man who was at once Norman and
English should be set aside for a stranger from Champagne. Neither
Norman nor English feeling could have endured that all the sons of the
Conqueror should be set aside in favour of the son of his sister.
Truly men of any rank or any race had good reason to revolt against
William Rufus. But this was like the revolt of the Earls in the days
of the elder William,[88] a purely personal and selfish revolt, which
called forth no sympathy, Norman or English. Still a large party was
ready to revolt on any occasion. And the occasion was presently found.
[Sidenote: Earl Robert plunders the Norwegian ships.]
[Sidenote: The merchants complain to the King.]
[Sidenote: Robert refuses redress.]
[Sidenote: He is summoned to the King’s court.]
It was found, as far as Earl Robert was concerned, in a wanton breach
of common right and of the law of nations, which it was assumed that
the King would treat as an act of defiance against his authority. Four
Norwegian trading ships had peacefully anchored in some Northumbrian
haven. Earl Robert, his nephew Morel, and their followers, wantonly
plundered the ships, and took away their whole cargoes. And the tale
is told as if the act of plunder was meant directly as an act of
rebellion against the King, whose peace was certainly broken in the
most outrageous way.[89] The merchants, despoiled of all that they
had, made their way to the King and laid before him their complaint
against the Earl of the Northumbrians.[90] Had such an act been done
by any of William’s own following, the injured men would most likely
have met with no redress. But plunder done by anybody else on his own
account was an outrage on the royal authority――one might perhaps say
an encroachment on the royal monopoly of oppression――with which the
Red King was not minded to put up. William straightway sent the
strictest and sternest orders to Earl Robert to restore at once all
that had been taken from the Norwegian merchants. The Earl scornfully
took no notice. The King then asked the amount of the merchants’
losses, and made it good to them from his own hoard. He then summoned
the Earl to his court; but he refused to come.[91]
[Sidenote: Gemót of Winchester. March 25, 1095.]
[Sidenote: The falling stars. April 4.]
[Sidenote: Messages between the King and Robert.]
[Sidenote: Whitsun Gemót. Windsor, May 13, 1095.]
Such is the story which reached the cloister of Saint Evroul, a story
altogether likely in itself, and which well fits in with and explains
the entries in our own Chronicle. These bring us into the thick of the
regular assemblies of this year of assemblies. The gathering at
Rockingham dealt wholly with the affairs of Anselm; to the regular
Easter assembly at Winchester which so soon followed it, Earl Robert,
though specially summoned, refused to come. The King was very wroth
against him, and sent word that, if he did not wish to be altogether
put out of the King’s peace, he must come to the court to be held at
Pentecost.[92] Signs in the heavens seem to have foretold that
something was coming. It was now, on the night of the feast of Easter
and again ten days later, that a crowd of stars was seen to fall from
heaven, not one or two, but so thickly that no man could tell
them.[93] If the stars fought against Malcolm on the day of Saint
Brice, it was only in their courses, and no chronicler has recorded
the fact. But it looks as if this special Easter shower, of which we
have elsewhere heard other meanings,[94] was by some at least held to
portend the fall of the great earl of the North. The time between
Easter and Pentecost, the time so busily occupied in another range of
subjects by the coming of Cardinal Walter and the acknowledgement of
Pope Urban,[95] was no less busily occupied by an exchange of messages
between the King and his undutiful subject. Robert, like Godwine
two-and-forty years before, demanded hostages and a safe-conduct,
before he would risk himself before the Assembly.[96] This the King
refused; Robert, arraigned on a definite charge of open robbery, had
no such claim to hostages as Godwine, as King Malcolm, or even as his
own neighbour Bishop William. The Whitsun-feast was held; the King was
at Windsor――not at Westminster――and all his Witan with him. Anselm was
there, to be received into the King’s favour, and to engage to observe
the customs of the realm.[97] But the Earl of the Northumbrians was
not there.[98] The two accounts fit in perfectly without contradiction
or difficulty. One gives us the cause of the special summons of Earl
Robert to the Gemót; the other gives us its exact date and form.
[Sidenote: The King’s march.]
[Sidenote: His motives.]
[Sidenote: Robert resists.]
Rufus, thus defied, at once took to arms. It would seem that he did
not wholly rely on his mercenaries, but called out the national force
of the kingdom.[99] He was again the King of the English, marching at
the head of his people. He was marching against the rebel fortresses
of the North, as he had once marched against Tunbridge, Pevensey, and
Rochester. But these great preparations were not made simply to avenge
the wrongs of the Norwegian merchants. Their wrongs were the outward
occasion, and that was all. The refusal of Earl Robert to come to the
King’s court was the counterpart of the more general refusal of the
Norman nobles to come to the Easter Assembly seven years earlier.[100]
The King knew, or had good reason to suspect, that there was again a
wide-spread conspiracy afloat to deprive him of his crown and life. Of
this conspiracy the open disobedience of Earl Robert was simply the
first outward sign; the affair of the Norwegian merchants had merely
brought matters to a head. Rufus may even have made use of their
wrongs as a pretext for proving Robert’s doubtful loyalty. Robert was
as yet the only open rebel. When the King drew the sword, he met with
no resistance anywhere save where the Earl of the Northumbrians was in
possession. Robert’s accomplices remained accomplices and
conspirators; they did not dare to risk the chances of open rebellion.
The Earl may have thought that the strength which had twice overcome a
King of Scots might defy a King of the English also.[101] At all
events, Robert of Mowbray withstood the King in arms, and a stirring
and varied campaign followed.
[Sidenote: Help expected from Normandy.]
[Sidenote: The King marches to Nottingham.]
[Sidenote: Anselm’s command in Kent.]
It appears however from an incidental notice that Earl Robert and his
fellows by no means trusted only to movements within the realm. It is
certainly strange that a conspiracy in which William of Eu could be
even suspected of taking a part should have found any support in
Normandy; yet in those times men changed sides so easily that it is
not impossible that he might have been again intriguing with Duke
Robert himself. It is still more likely that some intrigue was going
on, not with the Norman Duke but with the enemies of Rufus in Normandy
as well as in England. It is certain that an invasion of south-eastern
England was at this time daily dreaded;[102] and it is perhaps more
likely that William of Eu, Stephen of Aumale, and the rest, were
planning an expedition at their own risk than that Duke Robert was
designing anything with the regular forces of Normandy. The invasion
was plainly looked on as a serious danger; but there is no reason to
think that it ever took place. The King thought it needful to take
special means for guarding the coast. He had gone on his northern
march as far as Nottingham, accompanied not only, as we might expect,
by many of his nobles, but what we might less have looked for, by both
the archbishops and by the Cardinal Bishop of Albano.[103] One might
almost think that some special news was brought to the King at this
point; for it was now that Anselm, in this his short season of renewed
favour with the King, was sent back to guard his city and diocese. He
received the trust from the King’s own mouth; he went back to
Canterbury, whither a writ from the King followed him bidding him stay
in care of the city, ready at any moment, when news should be brought
from the threatened havens, at once to gather together horse and foot
for the defence of the land.[104] Anselm went back to his metropolis,
and there stayed, as we have seen, ready to discharge these unusual
duties, which, as the expected invasion never came, did not in the end
involve any military action on his part.
[Sidenote: The King draws near to Northumberland.]
[Sidenote: Confession of Gilbert of Clare.]
Meanwhile the King went on, taking with him the Archbishop of York,
who at Nottingham was already in his own province and diocese. When
the march had gone on somewhat further, when the King and his host
were drawing near to the borders of the Northumbrian earldom, that is,
we may suppose, when they were near the banks of the Tyne, an incident
happened which showed that the enemies of Rufus had other schemes
besides those of open warfare either at home or abroad.[105] Gilbert
of Clare or of Tunbridge, of whom we have already heard as a rebel in
earlier days,[106] and who seems now to be looked on as a traitor in
the King’s camp, calls the King aside, and, to his amazement, falls at
his feet and craves his pardon for his offences. Let the King promise
him forgiveness, and he will do something which shall deliver him from
a great danger.[107] Rufus wonders and hesitates, but, after a little
debate in his own mind, he promises the pardon that is asked for.
Gilbert then warns the King not to enter a certain wood――have we again
the tale of the hunting-party as the scene of assassination?[108] He
was himself one of a body who had plotted the King’s death, and a
party of them were now in the wood ready to slay him. He told the King
their number and names;[109] but the story reads as if no immediate
action was taken against them. The conspirators are baulked of their
prey, and the King’s host marches on to attack the fortresses of the
rebel Earl.[110]
[Sidenote: Defence of Robert’s fortresses.]
[Sidenote: The New Castle.]
[Sidenote: Tynemouth.]
[Sidenote: Bamburgh.]
[Sidenote: Taking of the New Castle.]
Robert of Mowbray had made good preparations for defence. The main
body of his followers, among them the men highest in rank and most
trusted in valour, guarded the great frontier fortress of his earldom,
the New Castle which Duke Robert had reared to guard the way to the
further north by the old line of the Ælian Bridge.[111] Placed
opposite the scene of Walcher’s slaughter at Gateshead,[112] it rose
above the Tyne with far more of the usual position of a fortress than
would be dreamed by one who merely passes so strangely near to it on
the modern railway, or who lights almost by chance on gateway and
castle imbedded in the streets of the modern town. The gateway, even
the keep as it now stands, are both of later date than the time of our
story. But the days of Monkchester were passed; the New Castle was
already a place of arms, a strong post standing right in the way of
the King’s advance against the rebellious land. Lower down the tidal
stream, beyond the relics――they were then still something more than
relics――of the great Roman rampart which left its name at Wallknol, at
Wallcar, and at Wallsend[113]――fast by the mouth of the estuary whose
shores and whose waters are now so thickly set with the works of
modern industry――the Earl’s castle of Tynemouth at once sheltered the
rising monastery of Saint Oswine and guarded the approach to the river
and to all to which the river led. Tynemouth was held by the Earl’s
brother; Robert himself, far to the north, kept the great stronghold
of all, the old seat of Northumbrian power, which frowns over land and
sea from the basaltic rock of Bamburgh. The King’s first attack was
lucky; we have no details; but we read that the New Castle was taken,
and that all the men that were in it were kept in ward. The choicest
men of Earl Robert’s following were thus in the King’s hands; the
inland centre of his power was lost; but he and his brother still held
out in their fastnesses by the Ocean.
[Sidenote: Siege of Tynemouth.]
[Sidenote: Description of the site.]
[Sidenote: The monastic peninsula.]
[Sidenote: Taking of Tynemouth. July? 1095.]
Tynemouth and Bamburgh both stood long sieges. The strong site of the
monastic stronghold enabled it to bear up for two months, while the
fortress of Ida remained, as far as any strictly military operation
was concerned, untaken during the whole war. Tynemouth, which had so
lately seen the burial of Malcolm, had now to endure the assaults of
the royal force in the cause of Malcolm’s chief enemy. The holy place
of Saint Oswine was strong alike by nature and art. At the mouth of
the great Northumbrian river, on that bank of it which lay within
Robert’s earldom, two headlands, divided by a small bay, stand forth
boldly to meet the waves of the German Ocean. In later times the
fortified precinct took in both points. Both came within the wall and
ditch which cut off the peninsulas from the mainland. The castle of
Tynemouth, strictly so called, covered the southern height immediately
above the river. The northern promontory was crowned by the church and
the monastic buildings, themselves sheltered by a vast gatehouse,
which itself grew into a castle. Such, there is reason to believe, was
the arrangement in the days of Malcolm and William. The castle of
Robert of Mowbray rose sheer above the estuary, on its left bank. To
the north, on the other headland, protected by a smaller fortress,
stood the church and monastery which were growing up at his bidding, a
tribute paid by the conquerors to the ancient worthies of the land.
The peninsula crowned by the monastic stronghold stretches forth into
the waters, like a miniature of that which is at once the oldest and
the newest Syracuse, since the art of man joined the island of Ortygia
to the mainland of Sicily. While the neck is strengthened by works of
defence, the rocky headland rises boldly from the waves on two sides.
To the south the ground rises more gently above the bay between the
two peninsulas, the bay to which the monastery above it gave the name
of the Prior’s haven. The town which grew up in after times sprang up
directly to the west of the approach to the northern headland; it now
spreads itself on all sides save only on the two headlands themselves.
The first attack must have been made from the older site of the town;
the small fortress, that most likely which guarded the neck of the
monastic headland, was taken. The main castle to the south fell at the
end of two months, and the Earl’s brother and the knights who defended
it shared the fate of the defenders of the New Castle.
[Sidenote: The castle of Bamburgh.]
[Sidenote: The relic of Saint Oswald.]
[Sidenote: The keep.]
[Sidenote: Robert defends Bamburgh against the King.]
And now came the hardest struggle of all, the struggle for the old
home of Ida and Bebbe. _Bebbanburh_, Bamburgh――the royal city of
Bernicia, which its founder had fenced first with a hedge and then
with a wall or earthwork――the city small but strong, with its steep
height approached only by steps[114]――though its main purpose was
military and not religious, contained within its walls a sanctuary and
a relic as worshipful as aught that was sheltered by Tynemouth or
Jarrow or Durham itself. The ancient church of Bamburgh was honoured
by the presence of the wonder-working hand of the martyred Bretwalda
Oswald. That relic had in earlier days helped, along with the prayers
of Aidan, to save Bamburgh from the fires of Penda; we are not told
whether it was by the favour of the martyr that the elder Waltheof
sheltered himself within the impregnable walls, while his valiant son
marched forth to victory. The city, the small city which took in the
space only of a few fields, had doubtless by this time given way to
the Norman fortress, strengthened by all the arts which the Norman had
brought with him. The castle precincts, in their widest extent,
clearly cover the whole of the ancient site; at the south-western end
they are still approached by steps which doubtless represent those
which in the days of the old Northumbrian chronicler were the only
means of mounting the height. At Bamburgh, as elsewhere, we are met by
the never-failing difficulty which besets the student of the castles
of that age. Can any of the work at Bamburgh which bears the impress
of Norman art be safely assigned to the eleventh century? Or must we
give up all to the twelfth, and believe that no part of the great
centre of the building, the keep “huge and square,” was already in
being when Robert of Mowbray defied the Red King from his rock? On
such a point it is dangerous to be over-positive. The surrounding
walls are of all dates down to the basest modern imitations; the
chapel which guarded the relic of Saint Oswald, standing apart in the
great court with its eastern apse overlooking the sea, was clearly,
when perfect, no mean work of the next age. But whatever was the
character or the material of the defences of Robert’s day, they were
doubtless as strong as any skill within the Northumbrian earldom could
make them. There, from the castle raised on the land side on the
bulwarks of the rock out of which its walls and bastions grow, rising
on the sea side over deep and shifting hills of sand, the eye might
take in the long indented coast, the sea dotted with islands of which
many play a part in the sacred story of northern England,[115]――Farn
and its fellows hard by, hallowed by the abode and death of Saint
Cuthberht――Holy Island itself further to the north-west, the landscape
bounded in the far distance by the border hills of the two British
kingdoms, beyond which Malcolm no longer stood ready to ravage the
pastures of Northumberland. Within that ancient fortress, rich with so
many earlier associations, the proud and gloomy Earl now kept his
ground, adding a new and stirring page to the long history of
Bamburgh. His brother and his best knights were the King’s prisoners;
but, strong on his rocky height, the Earl of the Northumbrians,
heedless of the lesson of seven years earlier, dared to bid defiance
to the King of the English and to the whole strength of his kingdom.
[Sidenote: Strength of the position.]
[Sidenote: Direct attacks fail.]
[Sidenote: Making of the _Malvoisin_.]
[Sidenote: Its effects.]
[Sidenote: Alleged despair of Robert.]
[Sidenote: The castle still not taken.]
And in truth the event proved that the rebellious daring of Robert of
Mowbray had better grounds than the daring of those who had held
Rochester and Pevensey, Tynemouth and the New Castle, against their
sovereign. The well of the purest water, hollowed out on the highest
point of the rock, and then, or at some later day, taken in within the
massive walls of the huge keep, made Robert safe from all such dangers
as threatened the Ætheling Henry when he held out on the rock of Saint
Michael.[116] All the power and skill of the Red King was brought to
bear upon the ancient stronghold; but all was in vain; the castle of
Bebbe was not to be taken by any open attack. William therefore took
to slower means of warfare. He made one of those towers which were so
often made in such cases, to act as a check on the besieged castle, to
form in fact an imperfect kind of blockade. This tower must have stood
on the land side, to cut off all hope of help from any friendly
quarter. It therefore could not have stood very far from the site of
the present village; and in the fields nearly south of the castle some
faint traces of earthworks seem not unlikely to mark the site of the
tower to which the King gave the significant name of _Malvoisin_. The
new work is described as exercising all the energies of the royal
army, and as striking such fear into the hearts of the besieged that
many of Robert’s party now forsook him and entered the King’s service.
We are even told that the fierce Earl looked out from the height of
Bamburgh in all fear and sadness, crying out to his accomplices by
name to be mindful of the traitorous oaths which they had sworn to
him. The King and his friends were merry as they heard, and none of
those who were appealed to, tormented as they were with fear and
shame, went back to share the Earl’s waning fortunes. Be this as it
may, as far as open force went, Bamburgh and its lord remained
unsubdued. To bring either of them under his power, the King and his
followers were fain to have recourse to false promises and cruel
threats.
[Sidenote: The King goes away.]
The Evil Neighbour of Bamburgh was built; it was well stocked with
guards, arms, and victuals. But Bamburgh itself was not taken any the
more. William did not in this case, as he did in some of his
continental enterprises, throw up the whole undertaking, because he
did not succeed in the first or second attack. So to have done would
have been pretty much the same as throwing up his crown; it would have
been to unteach the great lesson of his reign, and to declare that the
Earl of the Northumbrians was stronger than the King of the English.
He might turn away in wilfulness from this or that Norman or
Cenomannian fortress which he had attacked in wilfulness; but he knew
the art of reigning better than to leave Bamburgh in the possession of
a rebel earl. The work was to go on; but he was so far tired of it
that he left it to be done by others. When the _Malvoisin_ was well
strengthened, the King turned away, and appeared no more before
Bamburgh during the rest of the campaign.
[Sidenote: Michaelmas, 1095.]
[Sidenote: Robert entrapped by a false message.]
[Sidenote: He flees to Tynemouth.]
[Sidenote: He is besieged in the monastery,]
[Sidenote: taken, and imprisoned.]
When Rufus left Bamburgh, he went southward; he then went to the war
in Wales, and left the garrison of the _Malvoisin_ to keep watch over
their besieged neighbour. It may be left to casuists in chivalry to
judge whether the knightly king approved of the means which were now
taken in order to entrap the besieged earl. The garrison of the New
Castle, doubtless not without the knowledge of the garrison of the
_Malvoisin_, sent a false message to Robert, saying that, if he came
thither privily, he would be received into the castle. The Earl,
naturally well pleased at such a prospect of winning back his lost
stronghold, set forth by night for the New Castle at the head of
thirty knights. The men from the _Malvoisin_ watched and followed him,
and sent to the men of the New Castle to say that he was on the way.
Knowing nothing of what was going on, Earl Robert drew near to the New
Castle on a Sunday, expecting, it would seem, to be received there
with welcome. His hopes were vain; he was taken, and the more part of
his followers also were taken, killed, or wounded. The version which
goes most into detail says that, when he saw that he was betrayed by
the garrison of the New Castle, he fled, with a part at least of his
following, to his own monastery at Tynemouth. It is not easy to see
how this could be, unless he was able either to win back the small
fortress on the neck of the monastic peninsula, or else to climb up
from the seaside at some less steep or less strongly defended point of
the height. But the tale is so told that there must be at least some
kernel of truth in it. We read that the Earl stood something like a
siege in his own monastery. He was able, with his small party, to
defend himself in it for six days, and to kill and wound many of his
assailants. At last, on the sixth day, he himself received a severe
wound in the leg; the whole of his followers were taken, some of them
also as wounded men. The Earl, himself among the latter, contrived to
drag himself to the church of his own rearing, where still lay the
body of the Scottish King whom some looked on as his victim. If claims
of sanctuary were thought of, they were not allowed, and one who had
turned the consecrated precinct into a castle had perhaps little claim
to plead such privileges, even within his own foundation. Earl Robert
was dragged away from his own church, and was kept in prison to await
the King’s pleasure.
[Sidenote: Bamburgh defended by Matilda of Laigle.]
[Sidenote: November, 1095.]
[Sidenote: She yields to save her husband’s eyes.]
[Sidenote: Later history of Robert; two versions.]
[Sidenote: Later history of Matilda; her second marriage and divorce.]
A tale of twenty years back now repeats itself in our story. A strong
castle is again defended by a valiant bride. As Norwich, after the
revolt and flight of Ralph of Wader, was defended by Emma of Breteuil,
so Bamburgh, after the revolt and capture of Robert of Mowbray, was
defended by Matilda of Laigle. Married just as the revolt broke out,
she had had, we are told, but little taste of joyful or peaceful
wedlock; but she was at least zealous in the cause of her husband. She
had Morel to her counsellor and captain, and the two held out in the
ancient stronghold against all attacks. It was now winter, and King
William had come back from Snowdon, not covered with much glory. He
felt no mind to renew the siege of Bamburgh in his own person; but he
bade that the captive Earl should be taken thither, and led before the
walls, with the threat to his wife and nephew that, if the castle was
not at once given up, the eyes of its lord should be then and there
seared out in their sight. To this threat Matilda and Morel yielded,
and the gates of the unconquered fortress were thrown open to the
King’s forces. The valiant Countess thus saved her husband’s eyes; but
his eyes were all that she could save. Robert was sent back to prison
at Windsor, to live in bonds, at least for a season, and in no case to
return to the rights and duties of an earl or a husband. But there are
two widely different stories as to his later fate. The local history
of Saint Alban’s told how one who, however guilty towards others, was
at least a benefactor to that house, was allowed to spend his
remaining days as a monk within its walls. At Saint Evroul a widely
different tale was believed. It was there recorded by the contemporary
writer that Robert survived his capture thirty years, but that the
whole of that time was passed in hopeless imprisonment. If so, he must
have been looked on as dangerous by the calm prudence of Henry no less
than by the wrath or the revenge of Rufus. The story indeed runs that
his imprisonment was deemed so irrevocable that it was held to amount
to a civil death. The once proud Earl of Northumberland was counted to
have passed away from among men as much as if the grave had closed
over him alongside of Malcolm in his own Tynemouth. By a special
permission from Pope Paschal, Matilda was allowed to marry again, as
though she had been his widow and not his wife. Nigel of Albini became
her second husband; but, after the death of her brother Gilbert of
Laigle, he thought he could better himself by marriage in another
quarter. His marriage with Matilda was declared void, not on the
ground that Robert was alive, but because of some kindred, real or
alleged, between Robert and Nigel. The papal dispensation must have
been badly drawn, if it did not provide for the lesser irregularity as
well as for the greater. Of Matilda we hear no more; Nigel took him
another wife of the house of Gournay. Gerard had by that time died on
his way to the crusade;[117] his widow Eadgyth had married again, and
their son Hugh was lord of Gournay. Their daughter, who inherited the
name of Gundrada from her mother’s mother, took the place of the
forsaken Matilda, who was thus left in a strange plight, as the widow,
so to speak, of two living husbands.
[Sidenote: Morel turns King’s evidence.]
[Sidenote: Christmas Gemót of 1095-1096.]
[Sidenote: Adjourned from Windsor to Salisbury. January 13, 1096.]
Meanwhile her partner in the defence of Bamburgh, Morel, the nephew
and steward of the fallen Earl, made his peace with the King by naming
all who had any share in the late conspiracy. Not a few men of high
rank, clerical and lay, were accused by him.[118] The time of the
Midwinter Gemót drew nigh, at which the offenders would regularly be
brought for trial. The King’s prisons were full,[119] and he
determined that the gaol delivery should be a striking and a solemn
one. The Assembly of that Christmas-tide was to be a _Mickle Gemót_
indeed, a Gemót like those which had gathered in King Eadward’s day
beneath the walls of London and in King William’s day upon the plain
of Salisbury. A summons of special urgency went forth, bidding all men
who held any land of the King, if they wished to be deemed worthy of
the King’s peace, to come to his court at the appointed time.[120] The
call was answered. The appointed place of meeting was Windsor, and
there the Assembly came together. But the business to be done needed a
longer time than the usual twelve days of Christmas, and the gathering
was greater than the royal castle and its courts could hold. The work
began at Windsor; but an adjournment was needed, and on the octave of
the Epiphany in the opening year we find the King and his Witan at
Salisbury.[121] The wide fields which had seen the great review and
the great homage in the days of the elder William could alone hold the
crowd which came together to share in the great court of doom which
was now holden by the younger.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Constitutional importance of the meeting.]
[Sidenote: Continuance of the old forms.]
[Sidenote: Import of the summons.]
[Sidenote: Tenants-in-chief only summoned.]
[Sidenote: Their great number.]
[Sidenote: Comparison with the Conqueror’s Gemót at Salisbury.]
[Sidenote: Effects of the practice of summons.]
[Sidenote: Action of the Assembly.]
[Sidenote: No general sympathy with the accused.]
The Gemót of this winter, and specially the strict general summons
sent forth by the King, are of high constitutional importance. They
show how, even under such a king as Rufus, the old constitutional
forms went on. They show how great is the error of those who dream
that the Norman kingship in England was as thorough a despotism in
form as it undoubtedly was in substance. In the eleventh century, as
in the sixteenth, the whole future of English history turned on the
fact that constitutional forms still went on, that assemblies were
still brought together, even if they came together for little more
than to register the edicts of the King.[122] So now Rufus himself,
when about to make a great display of kingly power, specially summons
no small part of the nation to take a share in his acts. On the one
hand, the need of the summons shows that, unless at some specially
exciting moment, men did not flock eagerly to such gatherings.[123] On
the other hand, the fact of the summons shows that kings then knew,
that Rufus himself knew, that the gathering of such an assembly was
both a sign and a source, not of weakness but of strength, on the part
of the kingly power.[124] But in the form of the summons we may see
that the assembly, though still large, is gradually narrowing. The
summons goes, not to all freemen, not to all land-owners, but only to
the King’s tenants-in-chief. These, it must be remembered, were a very
large body, including land-owners on every scale, from the greatest to
the smallest. And it must be further remembered that in this body a
vast majority of the influential members were strangers by birth, but
that a great numerical proportion, most likely a numerical majority,
were natives. The King’s thegn, who had kept a scrap of his old
estate, was as much a member of the court as Earl Hugh of Shrewsbury
or Earl Walter of Buckingham, though he was not so likely to be
listened to in any debate that might arise as Earl Hugh or Earl Walter
was. Still the special summons to the King’s tenants-in-chief marks a
change; it marks the growth of the new ideas. The immediate reason was
doubtless to be found in the main object for which the Assembly came
together. The main work of the earlier Gemót of Salisbury was that all
men in the realm, of whatever lord they held, should become the men of
the King. William the Great therefore summoned the men of other lords,
who had not up to that moment been his own men, who owed obedience to
him as head of the kingdom, but who was not bound to him by any more
personal tie. He summoned them in order that they might bind
themselves to him by that personal tie, that they might become his men
as well as his subjects. But the main work of the present Gemót was to
sit in judgement on a crowd of offenders, of various ranks and orders,
but all of whom were likely to be tenants-in-chief of the King.
According to the notions which were coming in, the right court
for their trial was the court of their peers, their fellow
tenants-in-chief. The King, who could summon whom he would, who
sometimes summoned few and sometimes many, this time, for this special
purpose, summoned the whole body of his tenants-in-chief, great and
small, and summoned no others. But, as every summons tends practically
to the exclusion of those who are not summoned, this summons of a
particular class marks a stage in the process by which the Assembly
shrank up from the crowd which decreed the restoration of Godwine to a
House of Lords of the reign of Henry the Eighth.[125] Still the actual
gathering, even of the summoned members only, must have been very
great. When it came together, the Assembly must have followed the same
law as all other assemblies of that age. Practically it decreed as the
King willed; only a few of the great men were likely to say anything
to guide the King’s will; the mass of the assembly were not likely to
do more than to make the King’s acts their own by crying Yea, Yea. We
must however remember that they had not the slightest temptation to
cry Nay, Nay. The mass of the inhabitants of the land, Norman and
English alike, were not likely to have the faintest sympathy with any
one who really had a share in the late treason. The only question was
whether any were accused who had no share in it. In the case of those
who were charged only with conspiracy and not with open revolt, this
might easily be. Otherwise the Red King, in the vengeance which he now
took, did no more than justice, as justice was deemed in his day. But
his justice was far sharper than the justice of the old kings, far
sharper than the justice of his father. And the tone in which the
story is told implies that men at the time felt that it was so.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Sickness of the Bishop of Durham.]
[Sidenote: Portents foretelling his death.]
[Sidenote: His work at Durham. 1083. 1093.]
[Sidenote: He is summoned to take his trial.]
[Sidenote: He sickens and dies. December 25, 1095-January 1, 1096.]
[Sidenote: His death-bed.]
[Sidenote: Debate as to his burying-place.]
[Sidenote: He is buried in the chapter-house.]
One of the great men of the realm, who, whether guilty or not, seems
to have been at least suspected, died, while the Assembly was in
session, before any formal charge had been brought against him. Before
the Bishop of Durham came to Windsor, it was known in his own diocese
that he had not long to live. One of his knights, Boso by name, had,
while lying under a dangerous sickness, been favoured with trances and
visions, which told him much that was comforting about the monks of
Durham, and much that was fearful about other folk. He saw the old
inhabitants of the land, he saw the new French settlers, above all, he
saw the priests’ wives――these seem to be looked on as three classes of
offenders, gradually increasing in blackness――suffering each a
grievous doom.[126] His visions about the Bishop himself might perhaps
point to an intermediate destiny; at all events they were understood
as implying his speedy death.[127] His work perhaps was done. Thirteen
years before he had filled the church of Durham with monks;[128] three
years before he had begun the great work of its rebuilding; and, by
pressing it on with almost incredible speed, he had carried it on so
far as to set an example of unsurpassed grandeur in its own style, an
example which his own monks could not follow, but which Randolf
Flambard could.[129] William of Saint-Calais came to the Gemót, and
was summoned by the King to appear to take his trial.[130] He pleaded
sickness as his excuse for not appearing. Rufus declared, with his
usual oath, that the excuse was a feigned one.[131] It was however
thoroughly real. Bishop William was sick, and sick unto death. He was
smitten on the day of the Nativity, and died on the day of the
Circumcision.[132] He was comforted in his sickness by the presence
and exhortations of several of his brother bishops who had come
together for the business of the Assembly. There was Anselm whom he
had withstood at Rockingham; there was his own metropolitan Thomas;
there was Walkelin of Winchester; there was John of Bath, born, like
himself and Anselm, beyond the bounds either of England or of
Normandy. These prelates debated concerning the place of his burial.
They argued that he who had done such great things for Saint
Cuthberht’s abbey should be buried in the place of highest honour
within its walls. He himself declined any such place. He would be no
party to any breach of Saint Cuthberht’s own rule, which forbade that
any man should be buried within his minster.[133] The bishops
therefore ruled that he should be buried in the chapter-house, so that
his monks, when they came together, should have the tomb of their
founder ever before their eyes.[134] So it was; he was borne to
Durham, and there laid in the place which the bishops had chosen for
him, among the tears and wailings of the brotherhood which he had
founded, any one of whom, we are told, would gladly have died for
him.[135]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Sentences of the Gemót.]
[Sidenote: Hugh of Shrewsbury buys his pardon.]
[Sidenote: Roger of Lacy.]
[Sidenote: January 13, 1097.]
[Sidenote: Combat of Geoffrey of Baynard and William of Eu.]
This touching picture of the death which ended the varied life of
William of Saint-Calais comes as an episode in the middle of the stern
doings of the Gemót of Windsor and Salisbury. The Red King did not
bear the sword in vain. Yet, if his justice was sharp towards those
whom it did smite, it was certainly somewhat capricious, or at least
guided by expediency, with regard to those whom it smote and those
whom it failed to smite. Some of the offenders were men of the highest
rank, some even, it is implied, of the rank of Earl. But these
powerful rebels, ashamed and weakened by the fall of their brother of
Northumberland, were now deemed fitting objects of mercy. By the
advice of the Wise Men, they were spared a public trial;[136] but some
of them were made to pay a heavy price for being left safe in life,
limb, and estate. One is mentioned by name. Earl Hugh of Shrewsbury,
who was at least suspected of a share in the plot, was dealt with
privately by the King as his father had been at Arundel.[137] He
bought his restoration to favour at the high price of three thousand
pounds.[138] Roger of Lacy lost his lands and was banished, as he
would have been in the days of King Eadward, and his possessions were
given to his loyal brother Hugh. But heavier penalties, unknown in
King Eadward’s days, were in store for others of the conspirators,
including one of the loftiest descent. At the adjourned meeting at
Salisbury, Geoffrey of Baynard, bearing a name famous in London city,
appealed no less a man than William of Eu of treason against the King,
of conspiring to slay him, and to give his crown to Stephen of
Champagne.[139] The charge was denied, and, as both parties were
Frenchmen, the trial was, by the law of the Conqueror, referred to the
wager of battle. The judicial combat which followed is memorable in
the history of the time, and forms one of the landmarks in our early
jurisprudence.
[Sidenote: Defeat of William of Eu.]
[Sidenote: Sentence of mutilation on William of Eu.]
[Sidenote: Urged by Hugh of Chester.]
[Sidenote: Feeling with regard to mutilation.]
On the plain of Salisbury the combatants met, and William of Eu was
overthrown.[140] By the laws of the combat his defeat was full
evidence of his guilt. But what was to be his punishment? Save the
case of the beheading of Waltheof, there was no precedent in the
ordinary jurisprudence either of England or of Normandy for any
sentence harsher than banishment, forfeiture, and imprisonment.[141]
The older English precedents went for banishment and forfeiture. The
precedents of Normandy and of Norman rule in England went for
imprisonment, such an imprisonment, it might be, as that of Robert of
Mowbray. For the course actually taken there was no precedent in
either land, unless it were the dealings of Harold the son of Cnut
with the Ætheling Ælfred.[142] The punishment decreed was that of
bodily mutilation. It is said that this course was proposed by Earl
Hugh of Chester, and that on a singular ground. William of Eu was the
husband of the Earl’s sister――her name is not mentioned. He had
neglected his wife, while he had three children by a mistress.[143] If
this was to be ground for the loss of eyes or limbs, the brothers of
the Countess Ermentrude would have had a right to demand that the
portly person of Earl Hugh should be cut down to a shapeless
trunk.[144] Mutilation, it should be remembered, was a familiar
punishment, a punishment which in that generation aroused no horror
when the persons so dealt with were held to be real criminals.[145]
But, with that common inconsistency which reverses the sound rule of
smiting the leaders and sparing the commons, mutilation, death, or any
heavy punishment, seems always to have aroused horror, or at least
amazement, when it was inflicted on any criminal of lofty rank. Such
things had been done in the isle of Britain and out of it, but hardly
by the solemn sentence of the King of the English at the head of his
Witan. But now William of Eu was blinded, and underwent a fouler
mutilation as well.[146] His sentence was seemingly carried out at
Salisbury, perhaps in sight of the assembly. Are we to infer that any
show of indignation was called forth by the bloody sight, when we read
directly afterwards that some of the lord of Eu’s fellow-sufferers
were taken to London, and were blinded or otherwise mutilated
there?[147]
[Sidenote: Story of Arnulf of Hesdin.]
[Sidenote: His innocence proved by battle.]
[Sidenote: He goes to the Crusade,]
[Sidenote: and dies.]
If we may trust a tale to be found in one of those secondary writers
who often preserve scraps of truth, another accused man appealed to
the wager of battle with better luck than William of Eu. This was
Arnulf of Hesdin, a man whose name is familiar enough to us in
Domesday, though it does not call up any distinct personal idea like
the King’s unlucky kinsman.[148] He is set before us as a man of great
bodily stature, brave and active, and in the enjoyment of large
possessions, out of which he and his wife Emmeline had made gifts to
the abbey of Gloucester.[149] He was charged, unjustly and enviously
we are told, with the same crime as the rest.[150] He defended himself
by his champion, who proved his lord’s innocence by overthrowing a man
of the King’s who was matched against him.[151] But Arnulf was so
stirred up with wrath and grief at the unjust charge, that,
notwithstanding the King’s entreaties to stay, he threw up all the
lands that he held of him, and left England for ever.[152] Before the
end of the year, the Crusade offered him worthy occupation elsewhere.
He marched with the Christian host as far as Antioch; he there fell
sick, and declined all medical help; none should heal him save Him for
whose sake he had gone on pilgrimage. Arnulf, professing the opposite
doctrine to Asa of Judah, fared no better than that king. Antioch was
the last stage reached by the armed pilgrim of Hesdin.[153]
[Sidenote: Confiscation of lands.]
[Sidenote: William of Alderi is condemned to death.]
[Sidenote: The King refuses to spare him.]
[Sidenote: His pious end.]
Arnulf, according to this story, became landless, as far as England
was concerned, by his own act. Others underwent the same loss by
sentence, it seems, of the Assembly. Count Odo of Champagne and many
others lost their lands.[154] In one case only does death seem to have
been inflicted. William of Alderi, cousin and steward of William of
Eu, was, as the Chronicle tells us, “hanged on rood.”[155] This
somewhat startling formula doubtless means nothing but ordinary
hanging; but it seemingly marks hanging of any kind as something which
was not ordinary. As to the guilt or innocence of William of Alderi we
have contradictory accounts. One weighty authority declares him to
have been a sharer in the plot.[156] Others class him among many brave
and guiltless men who were ruined by the charges brought by Morel and
by Geoffrey of Baynard.[157] Guilty or innocent, he was, we are told,
a man of high birth, goodly presence, and lofty spirit.[158] He was
moreover the King’s gossip, bound to him by the same tie which bound
Morel to Malcolm. We thus incidentally learn that there were those
whom William Rufus had held at the font, and for whose Christian faith
and Christian life he had pledged himself. But the spiritual kindred
went for nothing with the Red King. Many of the great men are said to
have earnestly begged for the life of William of Alderi, and to have
striven to move the King’s greed by a mighty bribe. The Conqueror had
refused Harold’s weight in gold as the price of his Christian burial;
his son refused three times the weight of William of Alderi, both in
gold and in silver, as the price of his life.[159] Why Rufus was so
bent on his death does not appear; but nothing could move him. It
marks the way in which the King’s will practically ordered everything,
even in so great an assembly of the realm as that which had now come
together, that William of Alderi was condemned and hanged without any
attempt to rescue him, though many believed him to be guiltless, and
though powerful men were eager to save him. When hope was gone, he
made an ending at once as pious and, according to the ideas of other
ages, more manly than the ending of Waltheof. He confessed his sins to
Bishop Osmund, and was, seemingly at his own asking, scourged in the
new-built minster and the other churches of the city on the waterless
hill.[160] Then he gave away his clothes to the poor, and went naked
or slightly clad to the place of hanging, staining his limbs with
blood by often kneeling on the rough stones.[161] The Bishop and a
crowd of people followed him to the place. He then made the most
solemn protestations of his innocence. The Bishop sprinkled him with
holy water, said the commendatory prayer, and then withdrew.[162] It
was not for Osmund of Salisbury, whatever it might have been for Odo
of Bayeux or Geoffrey of Coutances, to look on what was next to come.
The work of death was then done, and all who beheld wondered that not
a groan escaped the victim as death drew near, and not a sigh in the
act of dying.[163]
[Sidenote: Last days of William of Eu.]
[Sidenote: End of Morel.]
There was thus a marked difference in the fate of the kinsmen and
chief officers of the two leaders, if leaders they both were, in the
conspiracy. The steward and cousin of William of Eu was done to death,
while his master underwent a fate which to modern ideas seems worse
than death. We are not told how long William of Eu lived on in
blindness and misery; but his punishment did not involve forfeiture,
at all events not corruption of blood; for a few years later we find
his son Henry in possession of his county.[164] The steward and nephew
of Robert of Mowbray seems to have gained but little by the act which,
if it were formally allowed to be loyalty to the King, was likely to
be far more commonly looked on as treason to his immediate lord. When
he saw that his kinsman and master was condemned to life-long bonds,
he left England, and died in banishment, poor and hated of all
men.[165]
§ 3. _The Conquest and Revolt of Wales._
1093-1097.
[Sidenote: Relations with Wales.]
[Sidenote: Nature of the Welsh wars of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Territorial advance and military ill-success.]
[Sidenote: Effect of the building of castles.]
These years, so rich in events in Scotland and on the English lands
nearest to the Scottish border, were at least equally rich in events
on the other border of the English kingdom, towards the lands which
were still held by the remnant of our British predecessors. Wars with
the Welsh may be looked for, as a matter of course, in every reign
during this period; but in the reign of William Rufus such wars form a
special feature, and the position which they hold is a little
singular. It is plain from the records of the time, it is still
plainer from the results, that this reign was a time of great and
lasting advance at the cost of the Britons. It was the time when large
parts of Wales were more or less fully brought under the authority of
the English crown. It is still more distinctly the time when Norman
adventurers, subjects of the English crown, carved out for themselves,
as its vassals, possessions and lordships within the British land. Yet
the first impression which we draw from the writers who record the
British warfare of this reign is that it was a time of ill success on
the English side, especially in those campaigns in which the King
himself took a part. The Chronicler records an expedition, and he
sends up a wail at its ill luck. Nothing came of it; horses and men
not a few were lost; the Welsh escaped to their moors and mountains
where no man might come at them. One chief is put to flight in a
battle, but the others go on doing mischief all the same.[166] The
same story comes almost every year; one would think that the warfare
of the Red King with the Welsh was a warfare than which none was ever
more bootless. And a historian who aspires to more of critical and
philosophical insight sums up the whole British warfare of the reign
as a distinct case of failure.[167] Yet it is clear from the result
that it was not so. And one passage in the Chronicle seems to give us
the key to the whole matter. “When the King saw that he could there
further nothing of his will, he came back into this land, and took
rede that he might let make castles on the borders.”[168] An
expedition which seemed mere failure, in which many men and horses
were lost, while the Welsh escaped to moors and mountains with hardly
any loss at all, was really successful in the long run, if it led to
the building of a border castle. The Britons fled unhurt to their
mountains; but while they lurked in the fastnesses where none might
come at them, the most valuable part of their land was taken from them
bit by bit. When they came down again from the mountains, they found a
castle built, they found so much land as the castle could protect
changed into a settlement of strangers. The lands might be harried;
the castle might at some favourable moment be broken down; but it was
sure to spring up again and again to do its work. The lasting
possession of the fertile land had passed away to the invaders; the
moors and mountains alone were left to the sons of the soil.
[Sidenote: Welsh campaigns of Harold and of William Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Use of horses.]
[Sidenote: Immediate defeat and lasting success.]
[Sidenote: Different objects of Harold and Rufus.]
The mention of these Welsh wars naturally carries us back to the
thought of the great Welsh campaign of a generation earlier. We see
how true, from one point of view, was the saying of the next century
that none since Harold had known how to deal with the Welsh as Harold
had known.[169] As a matter of military success, the failures of
William Rufus stand out in marked contrast to the victories of Harold.
The Red King had no pillars to set up to mark where he had overcome
the Briton in open fight.[170] A single word helps us to at least one
part of the cause. Harold, in his victorious campaign, must have
undergone some loss of men, but he underwent no loss of horses. He
found that the English tactics were not suited for British warfare,
and he made his housecarls turn themselves into light-armed
Welshmen.[171] But the Norman tactics were still less suited for
British warfare than the English. There were places in the moors and
mountains which the mailed housecarl might reach, if with difficulty,
but which the mounted knight could not reach at all. But William Rufus
does not seem to have suited his tactics to the country as Harold had
done; the mention of horses suggests that he repeated the old mistake
of Ralph the Timid in a worse shape.[172] As a matter of fighting
then, Rufus failed where Harold had succeeded; but as a matter of
enduring conquest, the failures of Rufus did more than the successes
of Harold. Harold indeed had no general schemes of Welsh conquest. He
overthrew the Welsh; but, except in the districts which were
definitely ceded to England,[173] he made no attempt to occupy Wales.
He gave back the land whose people he had overcome to princes of their
own blood, bound to him simply by their oath of homage.[174] But
wherever Rufus or his lords planted a castle, there was at once a
piece of Welsh soil occupied, and a centre made ready for occupying
more. The object of Harold in short was simply the defence of England;
the object of William Rufus was the conquest of Wales.
[Sidenote: Comparison of the conquest of Wales with the English and
Norman Conquests.]
[Sidenote: Geographical conditions of the conquest.]
[Sidenote: Extension of England by conquest and settlement.]
[Sidenote: Various elements in Wales.]
[Sidenote: The Flemings.]
[Sidenote: Endurance of the Welsh language.]
The conquest which now began, that which we may call either the
English or the Norman Conquest of Wales, differed widely both from the
English Conquest of Britain and from the Norman Conquest of England.
It wrought far less change than the landing at Ebbsfleet; it wrought
far more change than the landing at Pevensey. The Briton of those
lands which in the Red King’s day were still British was gradually
conquered; he was gradually brought under English rule and English
law; but he was neither exterminated nor enslaved nor wholly
assimilated. He still abides in his ancient land, still speaking his
ancient tongue. The English or Norman Conquest of Wales was not a
national migration, like the English Conquest of Britain. Nor was it a
conquest wrought under the guise of an elaborate legal fiction, like
the Norman Conquest of England. William Rufus did not ask the people
of Wales to receive him as their own lawful king; he did not give
himself out to all mankind as the true heir of Gruffydd the son of
Llywelyn, defrauded of his rights by perjured usurpers. Europe had
passed the stage at which a conquest of the earlier kind was possible;
and there was in this case no excuse or opportunity for a conquest of
the later kind. William Rufus was not a man to seek, like his father,
to justify his acts by legal fictions; nor had he the same room for
devising them as his father had. He had doubtless, with the crown of
the Old-English kings, inherited their claims to Imperial supremacy
over the whole island; he called himself “Monarch of Britain” no less
than the kings who had gone before him.[175] But that monarchy gave
him no claim to bring the lands of his subordinate princes under his
immediate rule. If an invasion of Wales needed any justification in
the eyes of William Rufus and his barons, that justification would
take the shape of reprisals. We may be sure that there was no moment
when the men on the border, either on the English or the Welsh side,
could not have brought some complaint against the other side which
might have been deemed to justify reprisals by a more scrupulous
prince than the Red King. But for men like the Norman adventurers of
his day it was enough that a land adjoining to the land which they had
made their own lay open to be conquered. Therein lay another great
difference between this conquest and either of the other two conquests
with which we have compared it, in the fact that the land to be won
lay adjoining to the land which was already won. The Angles and Saxons
wholly forsook their old homes beyond the sea, and, if the Normans in
England did not in the same way wholly forsake theirs, the sea at
least rolled between the old home and the new. But the Norman whose
lot was cast on the Welsh frontier of England had nothing to do but to
press on from the point where he already was. He had simply to add on
the next field to his own field, subject to such resistance as the
actual occupiers of the next field might be able to make. From this
geographical cause, while the Norman Conquest of England was in no
sense an extension of Normandy, the English or Norman Conquest of
Wales was in every sense an extension of England. The Normans in
England did not bring Normandy with them; they had from the very
beginning to put on more or less fully the character of Englishmen,
and to live according to English law. But the Norman who from England
went on into Wales had no thought of putting on the character of a
Welshman or of living according to Welsh law. Wherever he settled, he
most truly carried England with him, such as England had been made
through his own coming. But then for a long time he settled only here
and there in the British land. Where he did settle, the speech, the
laws, the national life, of the Briton passed away in such sort as the
speech, the laws, the national life, of the Englishman never at any
moment passed away from England. But alongside of these conquered
districts there long remained independent districts, where the natives
under their native princes still bade defiance to the invaders.
England had already an uniform aspect; it was the old England with
certain changes; its laws were the laws of King Eadward with the
amendments of King William. Wales, for a long while after the time
with which we are now dealing, was as far from uniformity as any land
east of the Hadriatic. Here was the castle of the Norman lord, with
his following, Norman, English, Flemish, anything but British. Here
was the newly-founded town, with its free burghers, again Norman,
English, Flemish, anything but British. Here again was a whole
district from which the Briton had passed away as thoroughly as he had
passed away from Kent or Norfolk, but which the Norman had not taken
into his own hands. He had found that it suited his purpose to leave
it in the hands of the hardy and industrious Fleming, the last wave of
Low-Dutch occupation in the isle of Britain. And alongside of all,
there was the still independent Briton, still keeping his moors and
mountains, still ready to pour down from them upon the richer lands
which had been his fathers’, but which had passed into the stranger’s
grasp. Those days have long passed away; for three centuries and more
Briton and Englishmen have been willing members of a common state,
willing subjects of a common sovereign. But the memory of those days
has not passed away; it abides in the most living of all witnesses.
England has for ages spoken a single tongue, her own ancient speech,
modified by the coming of the conquerors of eight hundred years ago.
But in Wales the speech of her conquerors, the speech of England, is
still only making its way, slowly and fitfully, against the abiding
resistance of that stubborn British tongue which has survived _three_
conquests.[176]
[Sidenote: Local nomenclature of Wales.]
[Sidenote: Contrast with that of England.]
[Sidenote: Teutonic and French names.]
[Sidenote: Places bearing two names.]
The results of this state of things, where so many contending elements
so long stood side by side, are still to be seen on the face of the
British land. The local nomenclature of Wales tells a wholly different
tale from that of England. In England the nomenclature is everywhere
essentially Teutonic; we might say that it is everywhere essentially
English; for the names given by the Danes form one class along with
those given by the Angles and Saxons, as opposed either to Celtic
survivals or to Romance intruders. Both these two last classes are in
England mere exceptions to the general law of Teutonic nomenclature.
But in Wales, while the great majority of the names are Celtic, the
Teutonic names are somewhat more than exceptions. In some districts,
as I have already said, they are the all but invariable rule. French
names, too, though not very common, are, I think, less rare than in
England. Nothing is more common than for a place to bear different
names, according as English or Welsh is spoken. And these names
sometimes translate one another, and sometimes do not. All this is
natural in a land where distinct and hostile races so long dwelled
side by side, each one a thorn in the side of the others. It marks a
kind of conquest different alike from the conquest where the conquered
vanish from the soil and from the conquest where they swallow up their
conquerors.
[Sidenote: The Welsh castles.]
[Sidenote: Lack of castles in England.]
[Sidenote: Houses in England.]
[Sidenote: Border castles.]
[Sidenote: The Welsh towns.]
There is again a visible feature, one so characteristic of the scenery
of Wales as to be all but a natural feature, which arises out of the
nature of the conquest with which we have now to deal. The traveller
who comes back, I will not say from the land of the Grey Leagues, but
from that nearer land of Maine with which our tale will soon have so
much to do, to one of the hilly districts of England, feels something
missing in the landscape, or in the memories called up by the
landscape. On the isolated hill, on the bluff which ends the long
ridge, he comes instinctively to look for the shattered castle or for
the lines which show that the castle once stood there. It is one of
the special signs of what English history has been, one of the signs
which should make us thankful that it has been what it has been, that
in England those bluffs, those island hills, on which the castle or
its traces can still be seen, are in truth few and far between. After
all that we hear of castles and castle-builders, the castle was, at
any moment of English history save the nineteen years of anarchy, a
rare thing in England compared to what it was in other lands. Save
where there was a town to protect or to keep in obedience, save where
there was some special post of military strength that needed to be
guarded, the lord of an English lordship, in whichever host his
forefather had fought on Senlac, found that a simple manor, sheltered
perhaps by some slight defence, served his purpose as well as the
threatening tower. On all the borderlands it was otherwise; the
pele-tower of the north is but the Norman keep on a miniature scale.
And, above all, Wales is, as every one knows, pre-eminently the land
of castles. Through those districts with which we are specially
concerned, castles, great and small, or the ruins or traces of such
castles, meet us at every step. It was needful to strengthen every
height, to guard every pass, while the moors and mountains, the
Asturias or the Tzernagora of the Cymry, still remained unsubdued. The
castles are in truth the leading architectural features of the
country; the churches, mostly small and plain, might themselves, with
their fortified towers, almost count as castles. The towns, almost
always of English foundation, were mostly small; they were military
colonies rather than seats of commerce. As Wales had no immemorial
cities like Exeter and Lincoln, so she had no towns which sprang up
into greatness in later times, like Bristol, Norwich, and Coventry.
Every memorial of former days which we see in the British land reminds
us how long warfare remained the daily business alike of the men of
that land and of the strangers who had made their way into it at the
sword’s point.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Advance before the accession of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Rhuddlan.]
[Sidenote: Rhys ap Tewdwr.]
[Sidenote: Saint David’s robbed by pirates. 1091.]
We have seen that neither the days of Eadward nor the days of the
elder William were days of peace along the Welsh border. The English
frontier had advanced during both reigns. Rhuddlan,[177]
Montgomery,[178] Cardiff,[179] had become border fortresses of
England. An indefinite tract of North Wales was held by Robert of
Rhuddlan;[180] Radnor was an English possession;[181] the followers of
Earl Roger of Montgomery had harried as far as the peninsula of
Dyfed.[182] The whole land seems to have made some kind of submission
to William the Great at the time when he made his pilgrimage to Saint
David’s, and set free so many of his captive subjects.[183] But real
conquest does not seem to have gone very far beyond the border
fortresses, as within the _march_ of the Marquess of Rhuddlan it did
not go very far from the coast. In the days of the rebellion we have
seen that the hearts of the Cymry rose again, and that they again
ventured on offensive warfare with no small effect. They and their
Scandinavian allies had broken the power and taken away the life of
the man who had so long kept their northern tribes in awe. In that
work we have seen that Rhys ap Tewdwr, the King of Deheubarth, whose
dominions took in the greater part of South Wales, had a hand.[184]
Under him Cedivor seems to have been the vassal prince of Dyfed. The
reign of Cedivor ended in a time of misfortune, ominous of greater
misfortunes to come. The shrine of Saint David was robbed. The holy
bishop Sulien died, and presently his church and city, the holy place
of Saint David, were again sacked by the pagans of the isles.[185] Is
this simply a traditional way of speaking of Scandinavian invaders, or
were there still any wild wikings who avowedly clave to the faith of
Odin? Then Cedivor himself died, and his sons revolted against their
over-lord Rhys, but were again overthrown.[186] This was the year of
the Red King’s siege of Saint Michael’s Mount, the year of his journey
to the North; and one account hints that the movements in Wales as
well as in Scotland had a share in bringing him back from the
mainland.[187] But it is not till two years later that Welsh warfare
began to put on enough of importance for its details to be recorded by
English writers.
[Illustration:
Map illustrating the
WELSH WARS OF HENRY AND WILLIAM RUFUS.
_Edwᵈ. Weller_
_For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press._]
[Sidenote: Beginning of the Conquest of South Wales. 1093.]
[Sidenote: Legend of the conquest of Glamorgan.]
It seems to have been in the year of Anselm’s appointment, the year of
Malcolm’s death, that the conquest of South Wales began in earnest. It
seems now to have been for the first time taken up by the King as part
of the affairs of his kingdom. But the geography of the campaign shows
that a gradual advance must have already begun along the south coast.
Our public entries are concerned only with the land stretching nearly
due west, from the mountains of Brecknock and Abergavenny to the
Land’s End of Saint David’s. This leaves out the sea-land which, with
the bold curve of its coast, projects to the south, the land of
Morganwg or Glamorgan. Yet it may be taken as a matter of course that
this land was not left to be won later than inland Brecheiniog and far
distant Dyfed. The unlucky thing is that, while the conquest of
Brecheiniog and Dyfed is recorded in notices which, though meagre
enough, are fully trustworthy as far as they go, the conquest of
Morganwg, strangely left out in all authentic records, has become the
subject of an elaborate romance which has stepped into the empty place
of the missing history. The romance is, as usual, the invention of
pedigree-makers, working, after their manner, to exalt the glory and
increase the antiquity of this and that local family. This is perhaps
the meanest of the many forms of falsehood against which the historian
has to strive; but it is also one of the strongest and most abiding,
and one which is specially strong and abiding on the northern coast of
the Bristol Channel.[188]
[Sidenote: Story of Jestin and Einion.]
[Sidenote: Story of Robert Fitz-hamon and his knights.]
[Sidenote: Einion recalls Robert.]
[Sidenote: Division of Glamorgan.]
[Sidenote: Share kept by the children of Jestin.]
The legend pieces itself on to that point of the genuine history when
the sons of Cedivor were defeated by Rhys ap Tewdwr. A brother of
Cedivor, Einion by name, who had been in the service of either the
elder or the younger William, and had served the King in his
continental wars, now flees to another enemy of Rhys, Jestin son of
Gwrgan, described as prince of Gwent and Morganwg.[189] Jestin
promises his daughter to Einion with an ample estate, if he can obtain
help from England against the common enemy Rhys. This, it is supposed,
Einion’s friendship with the King and his knights will enable him to
do. Nor was Jestin’s hope disappointed. No less a man than Robert
Fitz-hamon hearkened to the invitation of Einion; he set out at the
head of a company of twelve knights and their followers to give help
to the prince of Morganwg. Their joint forces overcame Rhys in a
battle on the borders of Brecheiniog, and Rhys himself, flying from
the field, was taken and beheaded. His kinsmen and followers seem to
have been killed or dispersed, and we are told that Robert Fitz-hamon
and his companions, being well paid for their services by Jestin, went
away towards London. Then Einion demands his reward; but Jestin says
that he will not give either his daughter or his land to a traitor.
Then Einion persuades Robert and his companions to come back, and take
Jestin’s dominions for themselves. They are of course in no way
unwilling; and they are joined by some of Jestin’s Welsh enemies.
Jestin is driven out, and his land is partitioned. The rough mountain
land is assigned to Einion and his Welsh companions, and Einion also
marries Nest the daughter of Jestin. Robert Fitz-hamon and his twelve
knights divide the fertile vale of Glamorgan among them. Each man
establishes himself in a lordship and castle, and all do homage to
Robert as lord of Glamorgan, holding his chief seat in his castle of
Cardiff. But, while the traitor Einion obtains so sorry a portion, a
son of Jestin is admitted to a share in the rich vale, and is allowed
to hand on his lordship to his descendants. Another of the family, a
grandson of Jestin, Gruffydd son of Rhydderch, refuses to submit,
withstands the invaders in arms, contrives to defend Caerleon, and to
hand on to his son Caradoc a principality in Gwent, seemingly east of
the Usk.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Estimate of the story.]
[Sidenote: Elements of truth.]
[Sidenote: Settlement of Robert Fitz-hamon at Cardiff.]
[Sidenote: Legendary names in the list.]
[Sidenote: Question of Jestin’s descendants.]
Now how much of this story is to be believed? Jestin is a most shadowy
being, of whom personally nothing is recorded. But there is evidence
enough for the existence of his descendants, and for their retention
of an important lordship in Glamorgan.[190] This may make us inclined
to put some faith in the account of the transactions between Jestin,
Einion, and Robert Fitz-hamon. The general outline of the tale is
perfectly possible, except the very unlikely story that Robert or any
other Norman, when once standing in arms on British or any other
ground, simply marched out again after receiving a fair day’s wages
for a fair day’s work. That Robert Fitz-hamon did conquer Glamorgan
and establish himself at Cardiff cannot be doubted. The settlement of
some of his followers is equally historical; but the list of them as
given in the legend is untrustworthy, as containing names of families
which did not appear in the district till later. That the Normans were
invited by a Welsh prince to help him against his enemies, and that
they then took his lands to themselves, is quite possible, though the
story rests on no certain evidence. That the Norman invaders took the
valuable land, the fertile vale, to themselves, and left the rugged
mountains to the Britons, is doubtless a true description of the
general result, though it is not likely to have been caused by any
formal division. The only thing to suggest such a division is the
portion which was kept by the descendants of Jestin. But such an
anomaly as this last might be accounted for in various ways. The
defeat and death of Rhys in Brecheiniog is beyond doubt, and it is not
unlikely that Robert Fitz-hamon may have had a hand in it; but at all
events the date is utterly wrong.[191] The most unlikely part of the
story is that which describes a grandson of Jestin as founding a
principality in that part of Gwent which had already long been an
English possession. This story might almost seem to be a confusion
with an event of earlier times. We are tempted to think that the
Caradoc son of Gruffydd and grandson of Rhydderch, who now settles
himself in Gwent, is a mythical repetition of the Caradoc son of
Gruffydd and grandson of Rhydderch who destroyed King Eadward’s
hunting-seat at Portskewet.[192]
[Sidenote: Robert Fitz-hamon;]
[Sidenote: other notices of him.]
[Sidenote: He holds the lands of Brihtric.]
[Sidenote: He marries Earl Roger’s daughter.]
[Sidenote: Marriage of his daughter to Robert of Gloucester.]
[Sidenote: His works at Gloucester and Tewkesbury.]
[Sidenote: Grant of Welsh churches to English monasteries.]
[Sidenote: Conquest of Glamorgan.]
[Sidenote: Building of castles.]
Robert Fitz-hamon, conqueror of Glamorgan――for of his right to that
title there is no doubt――has his place in the history of this reign
and of the early years of the next. We have already heard of him as
one of the few faithful among the Normans in England at the time of
the great rebellion against the present King.[193] Son or grandson of
the famous rebel of Val-ès-dunes,[194] he had an elder brother of his
father’s name, who appears, with the title of _Dapifer_, among the
land-owners of eastern England.[195] He had himself, at one time in
the present reign, received those lands which had once been
Brihtric’s, which had then been Queen Matilda’s, and which had been
afterwards held or claimed by the Ætheling Henry.[196] These made him
great in the shires of Gloucester and Somerset, shires from which he
might look with a longing eye towards the lands beyond the Severn and
the Severn sea. To these, it appears, was added the honour of
Gloucester, or rather the lands of Brihtric were made into an honour
of Gloucester for his benefit.[197] He married a daughter of Earl
Roger, Sibyl by name,[198] and so had the privilege of being
brother-in-law to Robert of Bellême. His daughter Mabel, heiress of
her uncle as well as of her father,[199] became, as we have often had
occasion to notice, the wife of King Henry’s son Robert, with whom
Gloucester became an earldom. He founded the abbey of Tewkesbury, one
of the line of great religious houses along the Severn, where his work
may still be seen in the vast pillars and mysterious front of his
still surviving minster.[200] To the older abbey of Gloucester he was
a bountiful benefactor. And the nature of his gifts to these two
favoured houses would be almost enough of itself to enable us to set
down Robert Fitz-hamon as conqueror of Glamorgan. Gloucester and
Tewkesbury were enriched at the cost of the churches of Glamorgan,
proof enough that he who could thus enrich them had won great
possessions in Glamorgan. The holy places of the Briton, Llantwit and
Llancarfan, with a crowd of churches of lesser note, supplied the
conqueror with an easy means of being bountiful with no cost to
himself.[201] So again the mere fact that a man who held such a
position as that of Robert Fitz-hamon, one who, though not an earl,
ranked by possessions and connexions alongside of earls, plays so
small a part as he does in the recorded history of the reign, might
almost of itself suggest that he was busy on some enterprise of his
own, such as that which legend assigns to him. When the mound by the
swift and shallow Taff was crowned by the shell-keep of Cardiff, the
progress of invasion was not likely to tarry. The fertile lowlands
from the mouth of the Taff to the mouth of the Neath were a natural
accession to the lowlands of Gwent which were already won. They were
won; they were guarded by a crowd of castles. And the winning of the
land, the building of the castles, events about which the genuine
local history is strangely silent, were, there is not the slightest
reason to doubt, the work of Robert Fitz-hamon and of the men who
shared with him in that work.
[Sidenote: Distinction between Morganwg and Glamorgan.]
[Sidenote: Extent of Glamorgan.]
[Sidenote: Cardiff castle.]
[Sidenote: Bishopric of Llandaff.]
[Sidenote: William of London.]
[Sidenote: Kidwelly and Ogmore.]
[Sidenote: Richard Siward.]
[Sidenote: Pagan of Turberville at Coyty.]
[Sidenote: Aberafan held by the children of Jestin.]
In strict geographical accuracy the names _Morganwg_ and _Glamorgan_
do not answer to one another.[202] Morganwg in the wider sense is said
to have taken in a vast district from the Severn to the Towy, while
Glamorgan, said to be called from a prince named Morgan in the tenth
century, was less than the present county, taking in only the vale.
The distinction between the two was preserved in the style of the
lords of “Morgania and Glamorgania.” But the country with which we
have now to deal may be practically looked on as answering to the
present county, somewhat cut short to the west and somewhat lengthened
to the east. It takes in the present Monmouthshire between Usk and
Rhymny; it does not take in the peninsula of Gower. This last, with
the town of Swansea on its isthmus, still forms no part of the diocese
of Glamorgan or Llandaff; it marks its formerly distinct character by
still belonging to the diocese of Saint David’s. Within this district
Robert Fitz-hamon and his successors the Earls of Gloucester held a
position like that of the Earl of Chester or the Bishop of Durham.
Without bearing their lofty titles, the Lord of Glamorgan practically
held, like them, a vassal principality of the crown. Like the other
lords marchers, he held most of the powers of kingship within his
lordship, and the position of his lordship enabled him to carry out
those powers more thoroughly than most of his fellows.[203] The chief
seat of the lord was at Cardiff on the Taff, where the castle had
been, as we have seen, founded in the Conqueror’s day.[204] A little
higher up the river was the seat of the bishopric of Glamorgan at
Llandaff, with its church, most unlike Le Mans or Durham, nestling by
the river at the foot of the hill. Under the chief lord settled
several lesser lords, tenants-in-chief, we may almost venture to call
them, within Glamorgan, who founded castles and families, and under
whom the land was again divided among a crowd of smaller tenants. Some
of these lesser lords held within their own lordships powers almost
equal to those of the lord of Glamorgan himself. First perhaps among
them was the house founded by William of London, better known under
the French form of _Londres_.[205] The name suggests some thoughts.
Who was a William of London in the days of William Rufus? A Norman
doubtless, but hardly a Norman of any very lofty rank in his own land.
May we follow the analogy of the great bearer of the same name in the
next age, and see in him the son of a Rouen citizen settled in London
in the very first days of the Conquest, or even in the days of the
Confessor? The house of London spread beyond the bounds of Glamorgan;
their chief seat was at Kidwelly; but within the lordship of
Fitz-hamon the square keep of Ogmore and the fortified priory of
Ewenny, one of the most precious specimens of the Norman minster on
the smallest scale, still remain as memorials of their presence. But
the name of Siward――its first bearer appears in the legend as Richard
Siward――bespeaks English or Danish descent, and we are tempted to see
in the colonist of Glamorgan a son or grandson of Thurkill of
Warwick.[206] Pagan of Turberville held Coyty, married a Welsh
heiress, and became the founder of a house whose feelings became
British rather than Norman or English. Aberafan, the fortress at the
mouth of the Glamorgan Avon, remained in the hands of the descendants
of Jestin, the only native line which, like such Englishmen as
Thurkill, Eadward of Salisbury, Coleswegen and Ælfred of Lincoln,
abode on its own ground on equal terms with the conquerors. They alone
shared the fertile plain with the strangers; the rest of their
countrymen, even those who held acknowledged lands and lordships, were
confined to the barren hills.[207]
[Sidenote: The lords and their castles.]
[Sidenote: The South-Welsh churches.]
These few families have each something in their name and history which
entitles them to special notice. A few others were of really equal
eminence from the first, and the legend, to make up the full tale of
twelve peers, adds on several names of later date. These great lords,
and a crowd of smaller land-owners as well, built each man his castle;
in Glamorgan the peaceful manor-house, soon to become the rule in
England, seems to have been the reform of a much later day. The
castles with which we are to deal are of course for the most part
castles of the older and simpler type; it was not till long after the
times with which we are dealing that Caerphilly, with its mighty
gateway-towers, its princely hall, its lake wrought by the hand of
man, became the proudest of South-Welsh fortresses, the peer of
Caernarvon itself. Caerphilly lies indeed beyond our immediate range,
in the land still left to the natives, parted off by hills from
Cardiff and from the rich plain which the conquerors kept for
themselves. Not a few others of the famous castles of the district
belong to times far too late for us. From the castles the churches
also caught a military air, and kept it during the whole time of
mediæval architecture. The fortified towers of Glamorgan have the
military character less strongly marked than the towers of
Pembrokeshire; but it is marked quite strongly enough to strike the
English visitor as something altogether in harmony with the endless
traces of castles which meet him at every step. He sees at once that a
state of things which in England existed only during the first years
of the Conquest, or which more truly, unless during the nineteen years
of anarchy, never existed at all, went on in the half conquered
British land for ages.
[Sidenote: Saxon settlements in South-Wales.]
[Sidenote: The Flemings in Pembrokeshire.]
[Sidenote: Foundation of boroughs.]
The leaders in the settlement were of course mainly Norman. It has
been acutely remarked that they mostly came, as followers of Robert
Fitz-hamon most naturally would come, from the old lands of Brihtric
in Gloucestershire and Somerset. They doubtless brought with them an
English following, a strictly Saxon invasion of South Wales. Among the
Teutonic settlers in this district, it is not easy to distinguish the
Saxon from the Fleming. It must always be remembered that, while the
Flemish settlement in Pembrokeshire is matter of history, the Flemish
settlements in Gower and Glamorgan are merely matters of
inference.[208] The English and Flemish settlers were doubtless the
chief inhabitants of the boroughs which now began to arise under the
shadow of the castles. Cardiff, Kenfig, Aberafan, and Neath, arose on
the coast or on the rivers from which some of them took their names.
Cowbridge and Llantrissant lay in the inland part of the vale; the
last, a borough mainly British, was the only one which held at all a
commanding site among the hills. In later times these towns sank into
insignificance――Kenfig indeed well nigh perished under heaps of sand.
But some of them have in later times been called up to a new life by
the wonderful development of mineral wealth which has changed the
barren hills which were left to the Briton into one of the busiest
regions of our whole island.
[Sidenote: Ecclesiastical affairs.]
[Sidenote: Llandaff.]
[Sidenote: Ewenny.]
[Sidenote: Cistercian foundations.]
[Sidenote: Neath. 1130.]
[Sidenote: Margam. 1147.]
In ecclesiastical matters the conquest of this district was for awhile
chiefly marked, as has been mentioned, by the spoliation of the
ancient British foundations, to the behoof of the conqueror’s
favourite monasteries at Gloucester and Tewkesbury. The bishopric of
Llandaff or Glamorgan kept its place, though it never became, either
in the extent of its possessions or in the fabric of its church, at
all the peer of Saint David’s. Ewenny arose, if not in the very first
days of the conquest, yet within the first or second generation. The
Cistercian movement reached this district early. The abbey of Neath
arose in King Henry’s time, under the patronage of Earl Robert;[209]
and in the last year of his life, while the anarchy still raged, the
same earl, the most renowned of the lords of Glamorgan, found means to
found the more famous abbey of Margam.[210]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Conquest of Brecknock.]
[Sidenote: Bernard Newmarch.]
[Sidenote: The castle of Brecknock.]
[Sidenote: Bernard’s gifts to Battle Abbey.]
[Sidenote: His wife Nest.]
[Sidenote: Defeat and death of Rhys at Brecknock. 1093.]
[Sidenote: End of “the kingdom of the Britons.”]
[Sidenote: Effect of the death of Rhys.]
[Sidenote: Cadwgan harries Dyfed. April 30, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Norman conquest of Ceredigion and Dyfed. July 1, 1093.]
The conquest of Glamorgan thus stands out as an event which is
altogether unrecorded in authentic history, but of which it is not
hard to put together a picture from its results. Other parts of the
conquest of South Wales are more clearly entered in both British and
English annals. The mountain land of Brecheiniog must have been
occupied early in the reign of Rufus, if not earlier still. Its
conqueror, Bernard of Neufmarché, better known in the English form of
_Newmarch_, has already figured in our story;[211] and he was clearly
in possession when William Rufus lay sick and penitent at Gloucester.
His followers are then spoken of as the French who inhabited
Brecheiniog. By that time then the upper valley of the Usk, from
Abergavenny westward, must have been already subdued. The rich land of
the holy King Brychan, with his twenty-four sainted daughters――the
church where the worship of one of them turned the people of the land
into frenzies which offended the soberer devotion of the
Norman[212]――the rivers full of fish, the lake of marvels, the whole
pleasant valley cut off by its hills from the extremes of heat and
cold[213]――all had passed away from British rule. Bernard had
doubtless by this time reared on the hill of Aberhonwy at least some
rude forerunner of the castle of Brecknock, the fragments of which
still stand, facing the southern mountains, alongside of the massive
church of his own priory, the church which he made his far-off
offering to Saint Martin of the Place of Battle.[214] We know not
whether Bernard had by this time striven to confirm his power on
British soil by a marriage which connected him with the noblest blood,
alike British and English. His wife Nest united the blood of Gruffydd
with the blood of Ælfgar. We are not told the name or race of her
father;[215] but her mother was Nest the daughter of Gruffydd and
Ealdgyth, the stepdaughter of Harold, the half-sister of his twin
wanderers, the granddaughter of Ælfgar and his perhaps Norman
Ælfgifu.[216] Nest thus came on the spindle-side from Godgifu the
mirror of English matronhood; but the woman who shamelessly avowed to
King Henry that her son was not the son of her husband Bernard hardly
walked in the steps of her renowned ancestress.[217] During that
memorable Lent, while King William lay sick at Gloucester, the new
lord of Brecknock found it needful to gather his strength to withstand
an attack from the people whom he had despoiled. The Britons came
together under Rhys the son of Tewdwr, the king of whom we have often
heard, and who must have been at this time the most powerful prince of
South Wales.[218] He invaded the invaders; and in the very Easter
week, while matters were busy between William and Anselm on the one
hand, between William and Malcolm on the other hand, a battle took
place near Brecknock. There Rhys was killed, by the help, according to
the Glamorgan legend, of Robert Fitz-hamon. According to the same
legend, Rhys did not fall in open fight, but as a prisoner to whom
quarter was refused. Another account describes him as being slain by
the treachery of his own men. His death was marked as an epoch in the
history of Wales. With him, the native historian writes, fell the
kingdom of the Britons, a phrase which an English writer seems to have
misunderstood as meaning that after him no Welsh prince bore the
kingly title.[219] The overthrow of Rhys led to great movements in
other parts of South Wales. We can hardly doubt that, whether Robert
Fitz-hamon had a hand in the fight at Brecknock or not, his settlement
in Glamorgan was at any rate already begun. But the fall of Rhys laid
the lands to the south-west, the lands of Ceredigion and Dyfed, open
to invasion; and two sets of invaders were equally ready to make the
most of the chance which was now laid open to them. The British enemy
came first. Cadwgan son of Bleddyn, who had once before driven Rhys
from his throne,[220] seized the moment of his death to carry a
wasting inroad into Dyfed.[221] He was presently followed by invaders
who were to do something more than make a wasting inroad. “About the
kalends of July the French for the first time held Dyfed and
Ceredigion, and set castles in them, and thence occupied the whole
land.”[222]
[Sidenote: Pembrokeshire.]
[Sidenote: Tale of Rufus’ threats against Ireland.]
These words of the British annalist mark a most important stage in the
occupation of his country. The campaign of this summer completed the
conquest of South Wales, so far as a land could be said to be
conquered which was always revolting, and where native chiefs still
kept, sometimes by their own strength, sometimes by formal
acknowledgement, such parts of the land as the invaders could not or
did not care to occupy. But it was now that a land was planted with
castles which is still pre-eminently the land of castles; it was now
that a land was brought under the power of those who bore rule in
England which was itself to become a new England beyond the line of
the Briton. Ceredigion, the land of Cardigan, the vale of Teifi with
its still abiding beavers,[223] the sites of the castles of
Aberystwyth and Cilgerran, of the abbey of Strata Florida and the
priory of Saint Dogmael, were added to the dominion of the conquerors.
Thence they pressed on to the extreme south-western land, and added
Dyfed by a new name to the possessions of the English crown. A tale
has been told how the Red King himself made his way to the most
western point of all, to the headland of Saint David’s; there, from
the treeless rocks, he looked over the sea to the land beyond, which
may now and then be seen on a cloudless evening. Then he boasted that,
lord as he was of Britain, he would be lord of Ireland too, how he
would gather round that headland the fleets of his whole kingdom, and
would make of them a bridge by which he might pass over and win the
great island for himself. The tale goes on to tell how, when the
threatening words were brought to King Murtagh,[224] he asked whether
the King of the English had added to his threat the words, “If God
will?”[225] The Red King had not used the formula which he hated to
hear even from the lips of others,[226] and the Irish prince at once
answered that he did not fear the coming of one who meant to come only
in his own strength, and not in that of the Most High.[227]
[Sidenote: Estimate of the story.]
[Sidenote: Acquisition of Saint David’s.]
[Sidenote: Bishop Wilfrith.]
[Sidenote: Milford Haven.]
[Sidenote: The Pembrokeshire castles.]
The tale is eminently characteristic of William Rufus; yet it sounds
somewhat like an echo of the real visit and the real schemes of the
great William translated into the boastful language of his son. The
Conqueror did visit Saint David’s;[228] he did plan the conquest of
Ireland;[229] but it is not likely that he threw the expression of his
designs into such a shape as that which William Rufus would have been
likely enough to choose. The younger William may have made his way to
Saint David’s; but it is not easy to find a time for his coming,
either in this year or in any other. But, whether through his coming
or not, Saint David’s itself passed under the obedience of the
conquerors. We presently find its bishop, a bishop spoken of as a
Briton, but bearing the English name of Wilfrith, acting in their full
confidence.[230] But the holy place, deep in its hollow, was left to
be guarded by its own holiness. No castle of king or earl or sheriff
invaded its precincts; the home of its bishop did not, as at Llandaff,
take the form of a castle looking down upon the minster, but that of a
peaceful palace resting by its side. The conquerors pressed on,
through the land of Cemaes and Emlyn and by the hills of Preseleu,
till they reached the south-western land, the land of creeks and
peninsulas, where the tides of Ocean rise and fall beneath the walls
of far inland towns and fortresses. In those waters the wandering
wiking had seen the likeness of his own fiords, and he had left his
mark here and there on a _holm_, a _gard_, a _thorp_, a _ford_, some
of them bearing names which seem to go back to the gods of
Scandinavian heathendom.[231] The Norman won the land, to hand it over
in the next reign to the Flemish settlers, who rooted out whatever
traces of the Cymry Northmen and Normans had left. Two of the chief
towns, Pembroke and Tenby, kept their British names in corrupt
forms.[232] Milford and Haverford would seem to have been already
named by the Northmen. On every tempting point overlooking the inland
waters, sometimes on points overlooking the Ocean itself, castles
arose, some of which grew into the very stateliest of their own class.
Tenby, Haverfordwest――Manorbeer, birthplace of Giraldus[233]――Caerau,
connected with so many famous names of later date[234]――and a crowd of
castles of lesser note, witness the means by which the conquerors knew
how to hold down the land which they had won.
[Sidenote: Pembroke Castle.]
[Sidenote: Pembrokeshire buildings.]
[Sidenote: The castle begun by Arnulf of Montgomery.]
[Sidenote: Second building of Gerald of Windsor. 1105.]
[Sidenote: His wife Nest.]
At the head of all stands the great fortress which gave its name to a
town, a shire, and a long line of earls, and in our own time to a
great workshop of the naval strength of the land. _Pen bro_, the head
of the sealand, grew into Pembroke, with its vast castle rising on a
peninsula above two arms of the inland sea――with its stately hall
looking down on the waters――with the deep cave underneath its walls,
with the huge mass of the round tower――with the one hill-side covered
by the houses and churches of the town, the other crowned by the long
line of the priory of Monkton, with its stern square tower and its now
roofless choir. The character of military strength and simplicity,
which is stamped in a lesser measure on the churches and houses of
Glamorgan, comes out in all its fulness in the churches and houses of
Pembrokeshire. Of all this the days of which we are speaking saw the
beginnings, but only the beginnings. On the tongue of land between the
two creeks a fortress was raised by Arnulf of Montgomery, son of Roger
and Mabel, a man of whom we have already heard and shall hear again.
But his defences were as yet small and feeble as compared with what
was to follow; the first castle of Pembroke was a mere earthwork with
a palisade.[235] Arnulf placed his work under the care of a valiant
knight named Gerald of Windsor, who afterwards was the beginner of a
castle of greater strength on the same spot.[236] In after times he
married a wife of the noblest British blood, yet another Nest, the
daughter of Rhys son of Tewdwr, and grandchild through her mother of
that Rhiwallon who had received a kingdom at the hands of Harold.[237]
Before her marriage she was the mother of one of the sons of King
Henry, though assuredly not of the great Earl of Gloucester.[238] In
later days, through another marriage, she became the grandmother of
Giraldus Cambrensis.
[Sidenote: Hugh of Chester in Anglesey.]
[Sidenote: Castle of Aberlleiniog.]
[Sidenote: Advance of Earl Roger in Powys.]
[Sidenote: Castle of Rhyd-y-gors.]
The course of events in North Wales during these years is less easy to
mark with exact dates. But it is plain that the death of Robert of
Rhuddlan had been only a momentary triumph for the Cymry, and that it
had not given any real check to the Norman power. Earl Hugh of
Chester, strong on the border of the continental Britons, still held a
hand no less firm on their island kinsfolk. He even pressed on into
Anglesey, and there built a castle, most likely at Aberlleiniog on the
eastern coast of the island, a spot of which we shall have to speak
again more fully in recording a memorable day later in our story. Earl
Roger meanwhile, from his capital at Shrewsbury and his strong outpost
at his new British Montgomery,[239] pushed on his dominion into Powys.
The King at least approved, if he did not at this stage help in the
work; the castle of Rhyd-y-gors was built at the royal order by
William son of Baldwin.[240]
[Sidenote: Seeming conquest of Wales.]
[Sidenote: Gower and Caermarthen unsubdued.]
[Sidenote: 1093-1094.]
[Sidenote: Effects of William’s absence.]
[Sidenote: Revolt of the Welsh. 1094.]
The conquest of Wales was thus, to all appearance, nearly complete.
The two great earls were going on with their old work in the north,
while in the south the tide of conquest was advancing with such speed
as it had never advanced before. In the south-east Gwent and Morganwg
seemed to be firmly held, while in the south-west the torrent of
Norman invasion had rushed by a single burst from the hill of
Brecknock to the furthest coast of Dyfed. In the south at least the
only independent region left was that which lies between the conquest
of Robert Fitz-hamon and the conquest of Arnulf of Montgomery. Gower,
with its caves, its sands, its long ridge, where the name of Arthur
has made spoil of a monument of unrecorded times――with its Worm’s Head
looking out in defiance at the conquered land beyond the bay――the
whole range too of coast with its sandy estuaries, from the mouth by
Llwchr to the mouth by Laugharne――Kidwelly also, not yet crowned by
the gem of South-Welsh castles――Caermarthen and the whole vale of
Towy――were still unsubdued. Otherwise the Britons might truly say with
their chronicler that on the death of Rhys their kingdom passed away
from them. So things slept while Anselm received his archbishopric,
while Malcolm pressed on to die at Alnwick, while King William was
kept by the winds at Hastings. But when the king was beyond the sea,
when he and the great men of England were busy with Norman
affairs――when Argentan bowed to Robert and Philip and when the brother
of the conqueror of Pembroke was a prisoner[241]――when the great Earl,
the father of both of them, had died with the cowl on his head at
Shrewsbury――then the Britons deemed that the hour of deliverance was
come. The English Chronicler, though he does not at this stage help us
to the names of British men or of British places, paints the general
picture in his strongest colours; “The Welshmen gathered themselves
together, and on the French that were in Wales or the nighest parts
and had ere taken away their lands, they upheaved war, and castles
they broke and men they offslew, and as their host waxed, they
_todealed_ themselves into more. With some of those _deals_ fought
Hugh Earl of Shropshire and put them to flight. And none the less the
others all this year never left off from none evil that they might
do.”[242]
[Sidenote: Cadwgan son of Bleddyn.]
[Sidenote: Divisions of the Welsh.]
[Sidenote: General revolt of Wales.]
[Sidenote: Invasion of England.]
[Sidenote: Deliverance of Anglesey.]
[Sidenote: Aberlleiniog castle broken down.]
In this version the Norman or English champion stands clearly forth.
We see that Earl Hugh had sharp work upon his hands from the moment
that he stepped into his father’s earldom. The British writers give us
a clearer sight of the geographical extent of the movement, and they
help us to the name of its chief leader. This was Cadwgan son of
Bleddyn, whom we last heard of as harrying Dyfed, and who even now
seems at least as anxious to make Dyfed a land subject to Gwynedd as
to drive Normans, English, or Flemings, out of either. Thus the
Britons were, as ever, in the words of the Chronicler, _todealed_;
they were divided into local and dynastic parties. Yet, as he puts it,
even this division, if it did not give strength, at least delayed
subjection. If Earl Hugh or any other leader of a regular force was
able to overthrow one _deal_, another _deal_ was ready all the same to
do as much evil as before. But it was in Gwynedd and under Cadwgan
that the work began. The Britons could not bear the yoke of the
French; they rose, they broke down the castles, and, as men commonly
do in such cases, they did by the invaders as the invaders had done by
them. It is not very wonderful if, in their hour of victory, they
revenged the reavings and slaughters done on them by the French with
new reavings and slaughters done on the French themselves.[243] And,
as our Chronicler hints, it was not only on the French within Wales,
but on those also in the nighest parts that they rose. By this time
the whole land had risen; South-Welsh and West-Welsh――that is now no
longer the men of the peninsula of Cornwall, but the men of the
peninsula of Dyfed――were in arms no less than the men of Gwynedd.
Gruffydd and Cadwgan burst into the neighbouring shires, Cheshire,
Shropshire, and Herefordshire; they burned towns, carried off plunder,
and slew Frenchmen and Englishmen alike.[244] The Saxon, the old
enemy, had not become less an enemy, because he had, through his own
conquest, become an accomplice in the invasions of his conquerors.
Gwynedd was now free; the deliverers crossed into Anglesey; they broke
down the castle at Aberlleiniog or elsewhere, and put an end for a
while to the foreign dominion in the island.[245]
[Sidenote: Action of Cadwgan in Dyfed.]
[Sidenote: Pembroke holds out.]
The Britons now seemed to have altogether undone the work of the
invaders. It was now time for vigorous action on the other side. The
French――Hugh of Chester, Hugh of Shrewsbury, or any other――entered
Gwynedd with a regular force; but if one _deal_ was put to flight,
another, under Cadwgan himself, claims to have overcome the invaders
at Yspwys.[246] The path was now open for a march of the Britons to
the south. Late in the year a general attack was made on all the
castles throughout Ceredigion and Dyfed. Two only held out; Gerald of
Windsor successfully defended Pembroke; William the son of Baldwin
successfully defended Rhyd-y-gors.[247] But the warfare of Cadwgan was
waged in the interest of Gwynedd, not in that of Dyfed. By a harsh,
though possibly prudent policy, he enforced a migration somewhat in
the style of an Eastern despot. The men and the cattle of Ceredigion
and Dyfed――we must take so general a statement with those deductions
which the laws of possibility imply――were transported to the safer
region, and south-western Wales was made, so far as Cadwgan could make
it, a wilderness.[248] Gerald, in his castle among the creeks, was
left to lord it over whom he might find, and to feed himself and his
followers how he might, in the wasted land. As far as we can see,
Gwent, Morganwg, and Brecheiniog, remained in the hands of the
conquerors. The rest of the British land, from the isthmus of Gower to
the furthest point of Mona, was either free or a wilderness.
[Sidenote: Question of a winter campaign.]
[Sidenote: December 28,1094-January, 1095.]
[Sidenote: Conquest of Kidwelly, Gower, and Caermarthen.]
[Sidenote: 1099.]
[Sidenote: Swansea Castle.]
[Sidenote: The castles of Gower.]
[Sidenote: Alleged West-Saxon settlement of Gower.]
It is almost past belief that William Rufus could have found time for
a winter campaign against the Welsh in the few weeks, or rather days,
which passed between his return from Normandy at the end of December
and his interview with Anselm at Gillingham in the middle of
January.[249] But there was plenty of fighting in the course of the
year in Wales and elsewhere. The Britons seem to have kept their
independence in the newly liberated districts, while the Norman
conquerors of Glamorgan made a successful attack on the intermediate
lands which had not yet been subdued. “The French laid waste Gower,
Kidwelly, and the vale of Towy;” and we are further told that those
lands, as well as Dyfed and Ceredigion, remained waste.[250] But if
Normans laid waste, they did not simply lay waste, like the Welsh.
What they found it expedient to lay waste for a season they meant to
put in order some day for their own advantage. This was no doubt the
time when William of London established himself at Kidwelly, and made
the first beginnings of castle, church, borough, and haven.[251] It
was now too that the way was at least opened for the work of
colonization which made Gower a Teutonic land. According to an
authority to which we turn with a certain doubt, the actual settlement
dates from five years later. Castles were built, Abertawy or Swansea
guarding its own bay and the approach to the peninsula, Aberllwchr
guarding the sandy estuary between the peninsula and the opposite
coast to the north, Oystermouth, Penrice, Llanrhidian, on points
within the peninsula itself.[252] And in this version the settlement
is made, not by Flemings, according to the common tradition, but by
West-Saxons brought across the channel from Somerset.[253] It is
certain, as has been already said, that there is not the same
historical evidence for Flemings in Gower which there is for Flemings
in Pembrokeshire. But it is perhaps less important to fix the exact
origin of each Teutonic settlement along this coast than to insist on
the fact that, as compared with the native Cymry, any two branches of
the Nether-Dutch stock, whether Flemish or Saxon, came to very much
the same thing.
[Sidenote: Pagan of Turberville joins the Welsh.]
Along with this territorial advance on the part of the invaders, we
hear, from the same somewhat doubtful quarter, of a movement among the
invaders themselves which turned to the advantage of the natives. It
is characteristic of the outwardly legal nature of the Norman Conquest
of England that it gave no opportunity for a character not very rare
in less regular invasions, the invading chief who finds it to his
interest to separate himself from his own fellows and to place himself
at the head of those whom he has helped to subdue. In the conquests
both of Wales and of Ireland there was room for such a part to be
played, and the story sets before us one of the Norman conquerors of
Glamorgan as playing it with some effect. The lord of Coyty, Pagan of
Turberville, married to a wife of the house of Jestin, took the side
of his wife’s countrymen, and, we are told, went so far as to attack
Cardiff on their behalf. The result, it is said, was a confirmation of
the ancient laws of Wales on the part of the lord of Glamorgan. This,
it is added, led many to transfer their dwellings from the disturbed
parts of the country to the more settled lands under his rule.[254]
[Sidenote: North Wales keeps its independence.]
[Sidenote: Autumn, 1095.]
[Sidenote: The Welsh take Montgomery.]
[Sidenote: William’s invasion of Wales. Michaelmas, 1095.]
[Sidenote: He reaches Snowdon. November 1.]
[Sidenote: Ill-success of the campaign.]
Meanwhile in the northern parts of Wales the Britons still kept the
independence that they had won by the struggle of the last year. They
had got the better of the local powers on their own borders, and the
King, busied with the peaceful opposition of Anselm and the armed
opposition of Robert of Mowbray, had little time to spare from
councils and sieges within his kingdom. At last, towards autumn, while
the siege of Bamburgh was going on, after he had himself turned away
from it, and left the _Evil Neighbour_ to do its work, William heard a
piece of news from the British border which at once stirred him to
action. One of the great fortresses of the march had fallen. In vain
had Earl Roger made his nest on the rock to which he gave the name of
his own Norman home.[255] Montgomery, _Tre_ _Baldwin_, was in the
hands of the Britons, and all Earl Hugh’s men within it were
slain.[256] William was wroth at the tidings, and he at once called
out the _fyrd_ of his realm, so much of it as was not needed for the
lingering leaguer-work in Northumberland.[257] Soon after Michaelmas
he entered Wales at the head of his host. He divided it into parties,
and caused them to go thoroughly through the land. At last, by the
feast of All-hallows, the whole army met together by Snowdon. If
merely marching through a country could subdue it, William Rufus had
now done a good deal towards the conquest of Gwynedd. But William
Rufus was not Harold; the master of continental chivalry could not
bring himself to copy Harold’s homely tactics. While the royal army
scoured the dales, the Welsh betook them to the moors and mountains
where no man might come at them.[258] Harold had found out the way to
come at them; but the Red King knew it not. All that he could do was
to go homeward, when he saw that he there in the winter might do no
more.[259] The British annalists, with good right, rejoice as they
tell how God their people sheltered in the strong places of their
land, and how the King and his host went away empty, having taken
nothing.[260]
[Sidenote: 1096.]
[Sidenote: The Welsh gain Rhyd-y-gors. 1096.]
[Sidenote: Revolt of Gwent and Brecknock.]
[Sidenote: English feeling towards the war.]
[Sidenote: Vain attempt to recover Gwent.]
The next year saw the bloody Gemót at Salisbury; it saw Europe pour
forth its forces for the deliverance of Eastern Christendom; it saw
the Red King become master of the Norman duchy. Among such cares,
William had no time, perhaps he felt no strong call, for another Welsh
campaign, either in winter or summer. But the lords of the marches
could not be thus idle; with them the only choice was to invade or to
be invaded. The year seems to have begun with another gain on the part
of the Britons. William son of Baldwin, who had kept the castle of
Rhyd-y-gors safe through all perils up to this time, now died. His
spirit did not abide in his garrison; they left the castle empty, a
prey to the enemy.[261] The spirit of the Britons, even in the lands
which seemed most thoroughly subdued, now rose. Within the bounds of
the present Glamorgan the favourable composition of the last year
seems to have kept men quiet; but the lands to the east, parts of
which had been so long under English rule, were now encouraged to
strike another blow for independence. The natives were in arms along
the whole line of the Usk; Brecheiniog, Gwent, and Gwenllwg, the land
between Usk and Wye and the land between Usk and Rhymny, threw off, as
their own writers say, the yoke of the French.[262] The marchers had
now to act in earnest. Our own Chronicler says mournfully how “the
head men that this land held ofttimes sent the _fyrd_ into Wales, and
many men with that sorely harassed, and man there sped not, but
man-marring and fee-spilling.”[263] We see that the old duty of every
man to fight for the land when called on had come to awaken some of
the feelings which attach to a conscription. Men were, we may believe,
ready for a campaign in Normandy or Maine, where plunder was to be
had, and where there was most likely still some satisfaction felt in
fighting against French-speaking enemies, even under French-speaking
captains. To drive back Malcolm would come home to every man’s heart
as a national duty; to dispose of Malcolm’s crown under the leadership
of an English Ætheling might call up long-forgotten feelings of
national pride. But who could be tempted by the prospect of a march to
Snowdon, even in the fairest weather? What interest had the men of
perhaps far-off English shires in rivetting the dominion of a Norman
lord on the men of Brecknock or Pembroke? No doubt every Englishman
was ready to drive back the Briton from Shropshire and Herefordshire;
but it was an irksome and bootless work to go and attack him in his
own land, a land from which even conquerors could draw so little gain.
Even to win back Gwent, the conquest of Harold, was an enterprise
which would lead mainly to man-marring and fee-spilling. Into Gwent
however they were marched; but nothing was done; the land was not
subdued; the army was even attacked on its retreat, and after great
slaughter put to flight.[264] A second greater attempt came to nothing
more. The grandsons of Cadwgan, Gruffydd and Ivor, attacked this army
too on its return, and cut it also off at Aberllech.[265]
[Sidenote: Effects of the castle-building.]
[Sidenote: Pembroke castle holds out.]
[Sidenote: The Welsh attack Pembroke. 1096.]
[Sidenote: Resistance of Gerald of Windsor.]
[Sidenote: His devices.]
[Sidenote: His dealings with Bishop Wilfrith.]
[Sidenote: Offensive action of Gerald.]
[Sidenote: 1097.]
The British chronicler here makes a comment which fully explains the
final issue of these wars. The Normans or English, whichever we are to
call the hosts of England under the Red King, had thus for three years
met with nothing but defeat. Yet they had in truth won the land. “The
folk stayed in their homes, trusting fearlessly, though the castles
were yet whole, and the castlemen in them.”[266] The fortresses might
be hemmed in for a moment; but, as long as they stood whole with the
castlemen in them, the newly won freedom of the open country was
liable to be upset at any moment. In Gwent and Brecheiniog at least
the natives might for the moment stay fearlessly in their homes; they
might at some favourable point surprise and cut to pieces the armies
that were sent against them; they might withdraw to moors and
mountains when the invading force was too strong for them; but, as
long as the castles stood firm, the real grasp of the stranger on the
land was not loosened. How long a castle could stand out we see by the
example of this very year’s campaign. All the castles of Dyfed and
Ceredigion had been destroyed two years before, save Pembroke and
Rhyd-y-gors; and Rhyd-y-gors was now in the hands of the Britons.
Pembroke, the castle of earth and wood, the outpost cut off from all
help, still stood through the whole of these two years, the one
representative of Norman dominion in the whole region of which it had
become the head. No wonder that the Britons, victorious everywhere
else, resolved on one great attack on this still unconquered
stronghold of the enemy. A host led by several chieftains of the house
of Cadwgan, Uhtred son of Edwin,――one whom we should rather have
looked for in Northumberland,――and Howel son of Goronwy, set forth and
fought against Pembroke. Gerald of Windsor was hard pressed. One
night, fifteen of his knights, despairing of resistance, made their
escape from the castle in a boat. Their esquires were more faithful,
and Gerald at once gave them the arms of knighthood, and also
granted――or professed to grant to them――the fiefs of their recreant
lords.[267] We read too how Gerald, to hide his real plight from the
enemy, betook himself to some of those simple devices of which we hear
in so many times and places. He had four swine in the castle; he cut
them in pieces, and threw them over to the besiegers.[268] The next
day he wrote or caused letters to be written sealed with his seal,
saying that there was no need to trouble Earl Arnulf――he is made to
bear the title――for any help for four months to come. These letters he
took care should be found near a neighbouring house of Bishop Wilfrith
of Saint David’s, as if they had been lost by their bearer.[269] They
were read out in the Welsh army. The Britons, we are told, having no
mind for a four months’ siege, marched away.[270] They claim to have
marched away without loss, with much booty, especially with all the
cattle belonging to the castle.[271] But the castle was not taken; it
stood there to do its work; and early in the next year Gerald was
harrying in his turn as far as the borders of Saint David’s.[272]
Friendship for the Bishop perhaps kept him from harrying the holy soil
of Dewisland itself.
[Sidenote: Easter, 1097.]
[Sidenote: William’s second Welsh campaign.]
[Sidenote: Seeming conquest.]
[Sidenote: Fresh revolt.]
[Sidenote: Cadwgan.]
[Sidenote: William’s third campaign. June-August, 1097.]
[Sidenote: The King’s ill-success.]
[Sidenote: He determines to build castles. October, 1097.]
This year, the King, as he had done two years before, deemed the
affairs of Wales to call for his own presence, and for a greater
effort on his part than ever. He had come back from taking possession
of the mortgaged land of Normandy; he had held the Easter Assembly at
Windsor somewhat after the regular time.[273] At that Assembly Welsh
affairs must have formed a subject of discussion, as the King
presently set out for Wales with a great host. This was the time when
the knights sent by the Archbishop were deemed so unfit for their
duty.[274] The King’s coming appears to have led to a seeming, perhaps
a pretended, submission. Led by native guides, he passed through the
whole country,[275] and he clearly believed that he had brought Wales
to a state of peace. So he deemed when he came back to hold the
Whitsun Assembly, the assembly in which Anselm for the first time that
year craved leave to go to the Pope.[276] But he was called back by a
fresh revolt. The Welsh, in the emphatic phrase of our Chronicler,
“bowed _from_ the King.”[277] They had once bowed _to_ him; now they
bowed _from_ him; they cast away his authority; perhaps they formally
_defied_ him in the strict feudal sense; certainly they defied him in
the more general sense which that word has now come to bear. And now,
for the first time in these wars, the English Chronicler gives us the
name of a Welsh leader, a name which from British sources has long
been familiar to us. “They chose them many elders of themselves; one
of them was Cadwgan hight, that of them the worthiest was; he was
brother’s son of Gruffydd the King.”[278] The name of the great prince
who had ruled all Wales, who had won the battle by the Severn,[279]
who had put Earl Ralph to flight[280] and burned Hereford town and
minster,[281] the prince whom it needed all the strength and all the
arts of Harold to overthrow, was still famous even among Englishmen.
The nephew of Gruffydd had this time too to dread no such tactics as
had worn down his uncle on his own soil. King William set forth with a
host of horse as well as of foot, vowing to put to death every male of
the rebel nation.[282] Again the pomp and pride of Norman chivalry was
shivered against the natural defences of the land which was so rashly
attacked. The Britons seem, by their own account, to have made the war
a religious one; perhaps, like the Irish king, they deemed that higher
powers would fight for them against the blasphemer. Strengthened by
prayers, fastings, and other pious exercises, the Welsh took to their
woods and rocks and mountains, while the Red King’s host marched and
rode bootlessly through the valleys and plains.[283] “Mickle he lost
in men and in horses, and eke in many other things.”[284] This state
of things went on from midsummer to August.[285] Then the King came
back to hold two assemblies at unusual times, in the second of which
he and Anselm met for the last time.[286] And now it was that he took
that wise resolution which I have quoted above.[287] As invasions by
mounted knights led to nothing but losing both the knights and their
horses, he would build castles on the borders. This Harold, who knew
so much better than William Rufus how to carry on a Welsh campaign,
had not done. But then the objects of Harold and the objects of
William Rufus were not the same.
[Sidenote: Action of Robert of Bellême. 1098-1102.]
We should have been well pleased to know what was the immediate result
of the resolve for the building of the border-castles. What were the
fortresses which were built, as surely some must have been built, in
obedience to it? This is the last entry which connects Rufus
personally with Welsh affairs. But we can hardly help connecting this
resolve with the building, a little time later, of several fortresses
in the lands threatened by the Welsh, specially of one, the greatest
of them all. In the next year one part of the British land becomes the
scene of a series of events of far-reaching interest and importance,
but also of a local interest quite as great in its own way. We shall
then see that, if the Red King did not do much in the way of building
border-castles himself, much was done by others, of course with his
approval, most likely by his order. Our next year’s tale brings
Robert of Bellême to the Welsh border, and, where he was lord,
castle-building went on with all vigour.
[Sidenote: Affairs of Scotland.]
But before we enter on a branch of our story which touches all parts
of the British islands, and many lands beyond the British islands, it
may be well to take up the thread of our Scottish narrative at a point
where the affairs of Scotland and those of Wales seem again to be
brought into some measure of connexion. The year which saw that wise
resolution of the Red King with regard to the Welsh castles, a
resolution which really meant the final union of Wales with the
English realm, saw also the end of those revolutions whose final
result was, not the union of Scotland with the English realm――that was
not to come about till long after, and by other means――but the
extension of English influence within the kingdom of Scotland till it
might be looked on as in truth a second English realm.
§ 4. _The Establishment of Eadgar in Scotland._
1097-1098.
[Sidenote: Decree for action in Scotland. August, 1097.]
[Sidenote: Designs of the Ætheling Eadgar.]
It must have been at one of the later assemblies of the year which we
have now reached, most likely at the August gathering,[288] that the
resolution was taken for vigorous action in Scotland. The King himself
had had enough of Welsh warfare; he must have been already looking
forward to those French and Cenomannian campaigns which form the main
feature of the next year; he was in the middle of his final dispute
with Anselm. But William Rufus seems always to have been well pleased
to set others in motion, even on enterprises in which he did not share
himself. So he gladly hearkened to the proposals of the Ætheling
Eadgar for an expedition into Scotland. Its object was to overthrow
the usurper Donald, as the chosen of Dunfermline was deemed at
Winchester, to restore the line of Malcolm and Margaret, and to bring
the Scottish kingdom once more into its due obedience to the over-lord
in England.
[Sidenote: Relations between Eadgar and the King.]
[Sidenote: Story of Godwine and Ordgar.]
Our last certain notice of Eadgar sets him before us as enjoying the
fullest confidence on the part of the reigning King, as sent by him on
the important errand of negotiating with Malcolm and bringing him to
William’s court at Gloucester.[289] One hardly knows what to make of
the tale which describes him as awakening a certain amount of
suspicion in the King’s mind later in the same year;[290] but that,
either before or after this time, he was in some such danger appears
from another tale in the details of which there may or may not be a
legendary element, but which undoubtedly brings before us real persons
and a real state of things. To this tale I have already referred
elsewhere, as having that kind of interest which belongs to every
story in which we see any one of those who are recorded in the Great
Survey as mere names stand forth as a living man, playing his part in
the world of living men. However obscure the man, however small his
deeds, there is always an interest in finding any part of the dry
bones of Domesday clothed with flesh and blood. And the interest
becomes higher when the man thus called forth out of darkness is a man
of native English birth, and the father of one whom England may well
be glad to reckon among her worthies.[291]
[Sidenote: Eadgar accused by Ordgar.]
[Sidenote: The ordeal and the battle.]
[Sidenote: Godwine volunteers to fight for Eadgar.]
[Sidenote: Notices of him in Domesday.]
[Sidenote: Duel of Godwine and Ordgar.]
[Sidenote: Victory of Godwine, and acquittal of Eadgar.]
The story runs then that a knight of English birth, Ordgar by name,
seeking favour with the King, brought a charge against the English
Ætheling. He told William that Eadgar, trusting to his own descent
from ancient kings, was seeking to deprive the reigning king of his
crown. William hearkened to the accuser, and some grievous doom――would
it have been the doom of William of Eu?――was in store for Eadgar, if
his guilt――his ambition or patriotism――could be proved. But how was
the charge to be proved or disproved? By Old-English law the appeal to
the judgement of God in doubtful cases was by the ordeal; and, as
between Englishman and Englishman, this rule had not been changed by
the laws of the Conqueror.[292] But we can well believe that
Englishmen who were admitted to a place in the Red King’s court had
largely put on the ideas and feelings of Normans. They would doubtless
look down on the ancient practice of their fathers, and they would be
more inclined to follow the fashion of their Norman companions in
better liking the more chivalrous test of the wager of battle. It
seems in the present story to be taken for granted that the trial will
be by wager of battle. But who will do battle for Eadgar, when the
royal favour is so clearly shown on behalf of Eadgar’s accuser? The
Ætheling was sad at heart, forsaken, as it seemed, of all men. But at
last one stepped forward who was ready to dare the risk on behalf of a
man to whom he was bound by a double tie. As an Englishman he was
stirred to come to the help of the descendant of the ancient kings,
and he was further bound to Eadgar by the special tie which binds a
man to his lord. He was a knight of noble English descent, known as
Godwine of Winchester. We know him in Domesday as a tenant of the
Ætheling for lands in Hertfordshire, and the Survey further suggests
that he may have had a private grudge against the opposite champion.
There were lands in Oxfordshire which were held by an Ordgar, and
which had been held by a Godwine. The matter is to be decided by the
hand-to-hand fight of the two English knights. For they so far cleave
to the customs of their fathers that they fight on foot and deal
handstrokes with their swords. Ordgar comes forth in splendid armour,
surrounded by a crowd of courtiers.[293] Godwine has nothing to trust
to but his sword and his good cause. But there was at least no attempt
made to hinder a fair fight――so to do would have been altogether
foreign to the spirit of the chivalrous king. The herald and the
umpire do their duty;[294] the knights take their oath to forbear the
use of all weapons but those which were needed in the knightly duel. A
long and hard fight follows, the ups and downs of which are described
with Homeric minuteness. Ordgar at last, sorely wounded, is pressed to
the ground, with the foot of the victorious Godwine upon him.[295] As
a last resource, he strives, but in vain, to stab Godwine with a knife
which, in breach of his oath, he had treacherously hidden in his
boot.[296] Godwine snatches the knife from him; Ordgar confesses the
falsehood of his charge, and presently dies of his wounds.[297]
Godwine now becomes an object of universal honour, and receives from
the King the lands of the slain Ordgar, while Eadgar rises higher than
ever in the King’s favour.
[Sidenote: Estimate of the story.]
[Sidenote: Its general truth.]
[Sidenote: Englishmen under Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Robert son of Godwine.]
I see no reason to doubt the main outline of this story, which rests
on the evidence of undesigned coincidences. Men of no special renown,
about whom there was no temptation to invent fables, are made to act
in a way which exactly agrees with what we know from the surest of
witnesses to have been their real position. Without pledging ourselves
to the details of the combat, which have a slightly legendary sound,
we may surely believe that we have here the record of a real wager of
battle, like those which happened at no great distance of time in the
cases of William of Eu and Arnulf of Hesdin. We may surely believe
that Eadgar was wrongfully accused, and that Godwine cleared his lord
in the duel. We see then that in the Red King’s day there was nothing
to hinder men of Old-English birth, exceptionally lucky men doubtless,
from holding an honourable rank and a high place in royal favour. But
we learn also, as we might expect to find, that such Englishmen found
that it suited their purposes to adopt Norman fashions. Of Godwine we
hear no more; but his son, as I have noticed elsewhere, bears,
according to a very common rule, the Norman name of Robert.[298] Had
we chanced to hear of him without hearing the name of his father, we
might not have known that the hero and martyr was a man of our own
blood.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The Eadgars march to Scotland. September, 1097.]
[Sidenote: The comet.]
We now follow the Ætheling to a warfare in which Robert the son of
Godwine is his companion. Eadgar set out about Michaelmas to place his
nephew and namesake on the Scottish throne. He had a bright comet and
a shower of falling stars to light him on his way.[299] But Donald was
hardly of importance enough for the heavenly powers to foretell his
fall; the shining and departure of the comet was rather understood to
mark the approaching day when Anselm, the light of England, turned
away from our land and left darkness behind him.[300] The force of the
Ætheling seems to have been of much the same kind as the force which
Duncan had led on the same errand three years before. He went with the
King’s approval and support, but certainly without the King’s personal
help, perhaps without any part of the royal army.[301] That army, as
we have lately seen, was just then coming together for another
errand.[302]
[Sidenote: Vision of the younger Eadgar.]
[Sidenote: Exploits of Robert son of Godwine.]
[Sidenote: Defeat and blinding of Donald.]
[Sidenote: Fate of Eadmund;]
[Sidenote: he becomes a monk at Montacute.]
The host then marched northward. On the way, we are told, the younger
Eadgar was honoured by a vision of Saint Cuthberht, who bade him take
his banner from the abbey at Durham――the abbey now without a
bishop――and he should have victory in the battle.[303] The banner was
borne before the army; the fight in which it was unfurled was long and
hard; but the valour of the men who fought under its folds was not to
be withstood. Without binding ourselves to details which may well be
legendary, we may believe that Robert son of Godwine was foremost in
the fight, and that the victory in which Donald was the second time
overthrown was largely owing to his personal prowess.[304] Little
mercy was shown to the vanquished; Donald spent the rest of his days
blinded and a prisoner;[305] his confederate Eadmund lived to become
somewhat of a saint. He put on the garb of Clugny in the priory of
Montacute, at the foot of that hill of Saint Michael where the castle
of Robert of Mortain now covered the spot which had beheld the finding
of England’s Holy Cross.[306] But as that house did not arise till
some years later, at the bidding of Count William the son of
Robert,[307] we may gather that Eadmund spent the intermediate time in
some harsher captivity. When he died, he was buried, at his own
request, in chains, as a sign of penitence for his share in his
half-brother’s death.[308]
[Sidenote: Eadgar King of Scots.]
[Sidenote: Character of the year 1098.]
[Sidenote: Eadgar’s gifts to Durham and to Robert son of Godwine.]
[Sidenote: Action of Eadgar, Robert, and Randolf Flambard; after 1099.]
The younger Eadgar now reigned over Scotland as the sworn liegeman of
King William of England.[309] The elder Eadgar went back to England,
to end there a year of heavy time, a year of evil weather, a year in
which men could neither till the earth nor gather in its tilth, and
when the folk was utterly bowed down by unrighteous gelds.[310] His
valiant comrade abode for a while in the dominions of the Scottish
King. Eadgar was grateful to all who had helped him in heaven or in
earth. The battle had been won by Saint Cuthberht and Robert son of
Godwine. Saint Cuthberht, in the person of the monks of his abbey,
received the lands of Coldingham, the seat in ancient times of a house
of nuns famous in the days of Danish warfare.[311] A little later――for
it was when Durham had again a bishop――he received, in the person of
his own successor, the greater gift of the town of Berwick.[312]
Robert, by the leave of his own sovereign, received a fief in the same
land of Lothian, and began the building of a castle. But, while King
Eadgar went to do service to his over-lord in England, the bishop――it
was already Randolf Flambard――and the barons of the bishopric, whom
Robert’s fortress seems in some way to have offended, attacked it and
made its lord a prisoner.[313] King Eadgar came back with letters from
his over-lord, ordering the release of their common subject. The
Bishop and his barons obeyed; but the King of Scots withdrew his gift
of Berwick from the bishopric, as a punishment for the wrong done to
the man to whom he owed his crown.[314]
[Sidenote: Eadgar and Robert go to the Crusade.]
[Sidenote: 1099.]
[Sidenote: Robert in Palestine.]
[Sidenote: 1103.]
[Sidenote: His exploits and death.]
[Sidenote: Modern parallels and contrasts.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Saint Alban’s.]
Robert the son of Godwine was presently called to a nobler work. His
lord the Ætheling went to the Holy War. Eadgar was not one of those
who marched first of all with the two Roberts of Normandy and
Flanders. He was one of that second party who set forth about the time
of the siege of Antioch, and joined the Norman Duke in his ignoble
retreat at Laodikeia.[315] Robert the son of Godwine, if he stayed in
Britain long enough to have any dealings with Flambard in his
character of Bishop of Durham, must have set out later still. He could
have had no share in the leaguer of Nikaia or of Antioch; most likely
he had no share in the rescue of the Holy City. He could hardly have
reached Syria till Jerusalem was again a Christian kingdom under its
second king. Godfrey, the mirror of Christian knighthood, was gone.
His successor was his less worthy brother Baldwin, he who had told the
dream of his calling to Dame Isabel in the hall of Conches.[316] But
there was still work to be done; the land which had been won had to be
defended. King Baldwin was besieged in Rama by the misbelievers.[317]
The King, attended by five knights only, made a sally to cut his way
through the besiegers. The valiant Englishman rode in front of him,
cutting down the infidels on each side with his sword. As Robert
pressed too fiercely on, his sword fell from his hand; he stooped to
grasp it again; he was overpowered by numbers, and was carried off a
prisoner.[318] He was led to the Egyptian Babylon; he was offered his
choice of death or apostasy; he clave to his faith; placed as a mark
in the market-place, like the East-Anglian Eadmund, he died beneath
the arrows of his merciless captors.[319] Such men could England, even
in her darkest day, send forth for the relief and defence of
Christendom in the Eastern world. Such men she could send forth even
in the days of our fathers, to draw the sword for right in the haven
of Pylos or beneath the akropolis of Athens. Now the men who go forth
from England to the same quarter of the world seem to share more of
the spirit of another Robert who, a century later, went forth from the
same shire as the son of Godwine on another errand. In our own story
we come across no renegade or traitor save the single name of Hugh of
Jaugy.[320] But in the course of the twelfth century we see the
forerunners of a class of men whose names stain the annals of our own
time. The glory of Robert son of Godwine is balanced by the shame of
Robert of Saint Alban’s, English by birth and blood, the apostate
Templar who joined the host of Saladin and mocked the last agonies of
the defenders of the Holy City.[321] Of the earlier Robert our century
has seen the true successors in the honoured names of Gordon and
Church and Hastings. Of the later Robert it has seen the successor in
the Englishman who sells his soul and his sword to keep down the yoke
of the barbarian on the necks of his Christian brethren. It has seen
him in the Greek who sells his soul and his glib tongue to argue in
the councils of Europe against the deliverance of his own people.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Reign of Eadgar in Scotland. 1097-1107.]
[Sidenote: Alexander. 1107-1124.]
[Sidenote: Friendship of the Scottish kings for England.]
[Sidenote: Turgot and Eadmer.]
[Sidenote: Effects of the reign of David. 1124-1153.]
[Sidenote: His English position;]
[Sidenote: his earldoms.]
[Sidenote: English influence in Scotland.]
[Sidenote: His invasion of England.]
[Sidenote: The Scottish kings of the second series.]
[Sidenote: The English or Norman candidates for the Scottish crown.]
With the accession of Eadgar to the Scottish crown the direct
connexion between English and Scottish affairs comes to an end, as far
as concerns the period with which we have immediately to do. Eadgar
reigned in peace, as far as his own kingdom was concerned, for ten
years, earning the doubtful praise of being in all things like to his
remote uncle the Confessor.[322] At his death the Scottish dominions
were divided between his two more energetic brothers. Alexander took
the kingdom; David, by a revival of an ancient custom,[323] held as an
appanage that part of Strathclyde or Cumberland which still belonged
to the Scottish crown. Both princes maintained strict friendship with
England, and both sought wives in England. Alexander married a natural
daughter of King Henry, Sibyl by name;[324] the wife of David was,
more significantly, the widowed daughter of Waltheof.[325] Alexander
had to strive against revolts in the North,[326] and his reign marks a
great period in the ecclesiastical history of Scotland. It is the time
in which we meet with the familiar names of Turgot and Eadmer, the one
as bishop, the other as bishop-elect, of the first see in
Scotland.[327] The influence of the reign of Eadgar told wholly in
favour of the process by which Scotland was becoming an English
kingdom. The reign of Alexander told perhaps less directly in favour
of things specially English,[328] but it worked strongly towards the
more general object of bringing Scotland into the common circle of
western Christendom. The succession of David reunited the Scottish
dominions, and his vigorous rule of twenty-nine years brought to
perfection all that his parents had begun. That famous prince was
bound to England by every tie of descent, habit, and affinity. Brother
of her Queen, uncle of her Imperial Lady,[329] David was an English
earl in a stricter sense than any king of Scots who had gone before
him. He was not only Earl of Lothian, which was becoming fast
incorporated with Scotland――or more truly was fast incorporating
Scotland with itself――nor yet only of Northumberland and Cumberland,
with which the same process might easily have been carried out.[330]
He was Earl also of distant and isolated Huntingdon, an earldom which
could not be held except on the same terms as its fellows of Leicester
or Warwick. Under David, the great reformer, the great civilizer, but
at the same time the king who made the earlier life of Scotland a
thing of the past, all that was English, all that was Norman, was
welcomed in the land which was now truly a northern England. If David,
like his father, appeared as an invader of England, if, in so doing,
he made England feel that he had subjects who were still far from
being either English or Norman,[331] he did so only as a benevolent
mediator in the affairs of England, as the champion of the claims of
one of his nieces against the claims of the other. With the three sons
of Malcolm and Margaret begins the line of those whom we may call the
second series of Scottish kings, those who still came in the direct
line of old Scottish royalty, but under whom Scotland was a disciple
of England, and on the whole friendly to England. They stand
distinguished alike from the purely Celtic kings who went before them,
and from the kings, Norman or English as we may choose to call them by
natural descent, who were politically more hostile to England than the
old Malcolms and Kenneths. Eadgar and Alexander died childless; the
later kings were all of the stock of David. Of that stock――and thereby
of the stock of Waltheof and Siward and their forefathers of whatever
species――came that motley group who in after days wrangled for David’s
crown. Bruce, Balliol, Hastings, Comyn, all came by female descent of
the line of David and Matilda. In every other aspect all of them were
simply English nobles of the time. It is an odd destiny by which,
according as they supported or withstood the rights of their own
prince over the kingdom which they claimed, some of them have won the
name of Scottish traitors and others the name of Scottish patriots.
§ 5. _The Expedition of Magnus._ 1098.
[Sidenote: Events of the year 1098.]
[Sidenote: Their wide geographical range.]
[Sidenote: Magnus of Norway.]
[Sidenote: Anglesey the centre of the story.]
[Sidenote: The Earls of Shrewsbury.]
The events of the year which followed the last revolution in Scotland
amount to a general stirring of all the lands which could in ordinary
times have any influence on the affairs of England. We shall see in
the next chapter that it was the busiest of times in the Gaulish
mainland, where the designs of Rufus, now undisputed master of
Normandy, spread far beyond anything that had been dreamed of by any
earlier holder of the Norman duchy. For warfare or for alliance, the
range of our story during this most stirring year stretches from the
fiords of Norway to the gorges of the Pyrenees. In the present section
we have to look to the northern side of this tangled drama, and to
take the specially British aspect of it as our centre. A mighty
undertaking, which moved the whole of north-western Europe, which
touched England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and the smaller islands
which lie between and around them, comes home to us mainly as it
touches that one among those islands which might almost pass for a
part of the mainland of southern Britain. The great warfare of Magnus
of Norway mainly concerns our story so far as it almost casually
became a part of warfare in Wales, and specially of warfare in
Anglesey. And, as regards England itself, the most important aspect of
a movement which stirred every northern land was that it indirectly
lifted one man who was already great beyond endurance in Normandy and
its border lands into a place of greatness even less endurable in
England and its border lands. We have to tell a tale spreading over
many lands and seas, a tale full of personal pictures and personal
exploits. To Englishmen of the last years of the eleventh century and
the first years of the twelfth, its most practical aspect was that it
took away Earl Hugh of Shrewsbury and set his brother Robert in his
place.
[Sidenote: The winter of 1097.]
[Sidenote: The war of Anglesey. 1098.]
[Sidenote: Schemes of Cadwgan and Gruffydd.]
[Sidenote: The Welsh take wikings from Ireland into pay.]
We must now look back to the moment, late in the last year, when the
Welsh seemed to have completely won back their freedom, except in
Glamorgan and at the single point covered by the unconquered fortress
of Pembroke.[332] It is startling to find in our next notice that the
Britons, without any mention of any fresh loss, are beginning to stand
on the defensive, and to seek out as it were a last shelter. The war
is now shifted to a quarter of which we have hitherto heard less than
of some other parts of Wales, and it becomes connected with movements
in other parts of the world which carry us back a generation. The
island off the north-west corner of Wales, that Mona or Mevania to
which half-forgotten English conquests had given the name of
Anglesey,[333] became now, as in the days of Roman invasion, the
chief――at the time it may have seemed the last――stronghold of British
resistance. The island, parted from the British mainland by the narrow
strait――the Hellespont――of Menai, lying within sight of the fortress
of Robert of Rhuddlan at Dwyganwy, seems for the last four years to
have been left untouched by any Norman invader. But now we read that
the princes of Gwynedd, Cadwgan son of Bleddyn, their worthiest elder,
and Gruffydd the slayer of Robert, with the general assent of the
Britons of the north, agree in council, as one of their own
chroniclers puts it, to save Mona.[334] This form of words seems to
imply less trust in their own resources than we might have looked for
in the elders of the Britons after their late successes. If Mona
needed to be saved, one would think that they must already have found
that there was little real chance of saving Gwynedd or Dyfed. And the
way by which they sought to save Mona was hardly a wise one, though it
was one which might have been defended by many precedents. Just as
Gruffydd had done ten years before, they took into their pay a fleet
of pirates from Ireland, wikings doubtless from the Scandinavian
settlements, whom one Welsh writer, perhaps more from habit than as
meaning his words to be taken in their full force, speaks of as
heathens.[335] With these allies, and with the main body of their own
forces, the British leaders withdrew into Anglesey.
[Sidenote: The two Earls Hugh, of Chester and Shrewsbury.]
[Sidenote: Rebuilding of the castle of Aberlleiniog.]
[Sidenote: Traces of the castle.]
[Sidenote: The earls bribe the wikings.]
The news of this alliance was thought serious enough to call for
vigorous action on the part of the two earls of the border. Both now
bore the same name. Hugh of Avranches still ruled at Chester――we last
heard of him as counselling the cruel punishment of William of Eu;
Hugh of Montgomery was drawing near to the end of his short dominion
over Shropshire. The Scandinavian writers couple the two Hughs
together, and they distinguish the elder by the well-earned surname of
Hugh the Fat, and the younger by that of Hugh the Proud.[336] They
gathered their forces, Norman and English, and crossed over to
Anglesey. The first step towards the occupation of the island was the
usual Norman means, the building of a castle. In this case they had
not to build for the first time, but to build up afresh what the Welsh
had destroyed in the moment of victory. It will be remembered that,
four years before, the Britons in their great revolt had won back
Anglesey and broken down the castle.[337] There seems no reason to
doubt that the site of the old work was the site of the new, and that
that site marks at once the landing-place of the two earls and the
scene of the fall of one of them. It lies on the eastern side of the
island, quite free from the strait, and nearly due west from the scene
of the Marquess Robert’s death at Dwyganwy.[338] It lies about half
way between the priory of Penmon――the head of Mona――parts of whose
simple and venerable church must be nearly contemporary with our
times,[339] and the great fortress of later days at Beaumaris, the
head of the island shire. A small expanse of flat and marshy ground
marks the spot where the small stream of Lleiniog, mere brook as it
is, makes its independent way into the sea. On its left bank the
careful enquirer will find, what he will certainly not see at a
glance, a castle-mound with its ditches, now, after the usual
senseless and provoking fashion, masked with trees. But he who makes
his way within will find, not only the mound, but the square tower
crowning it, though he will hardly deem this last to be a work of the
two earls. In front of the castle, immediately above the sea, a slight
natural height seems to have been improved by art into a smaller
mound. The earthworks at least the earls doubtless found ready to
their hand, whether they had been thrown up in the earlier invasion of
the island, or whether the invaders had then taken advantage of mounds
thrown up by men of earlier times. Here we have beyond doubt the
remains of the castle of Aberlleiniog, the castle which Hugh the Fat
and Hugh the Proud designed to hold Anglesey in check.[340] But it was
not only to the craft of the engineer that the two Hughs trusted. The
earls of the Red King’s day had learned to practise the special arts
of their master. The wikings were bribed with the gold of England to
betray the cause of their British allies, and they gave the earls
valuable help in making good their entrance into Anglesey.[341]
[Sidenote: Cadwgan and Gruffydd flee to Ireland.]
[Sidenote: Cruel treatment of the Welsh captives.]
[Sidenote: Desecration of the church of Saint Tyfrydog.]
[Sidenote: Mutilation of Cenred.]
[Sidenote: Restoration of his speech.]
It was in strange contrast with the vigour which for several years had
been shown by the Welsh leaders, and with the success which had
commonly waited on their arms, but quite in harmony with their last
action of all, when Cadwgan and Gruffydd, seeing the turn which things
had taken, threw up the common cause altogether and fled to Ireland to
secure their own safety.[342] Anglesey was now left to the mercy of
the two earls. The character for gentleness which Hugh of Shrewsbury
bears, and which he may have deserved in the government of his own
earldom, brought no lessening of suffering to British enemies.
Wherever the two Hughs marched, men were slaughtered, or were, in
modern eyes at least, worse than slaughtered. They were blinded,
deprived of hands and feet, or made to undergo the other mutilations
usual at the time.[343] In some cases at least the earls trampled on
every privilege of holy places and holy persons. It may be deemed a
lesser matter that one of them caused his hounds to pass a night in
the church of Saint Tyfrydog, and found them all mad in the
morning.[344] The privileges of the Church could not shelter even her
human and priestly servants. One special victim was an aged priest,
who is said to have taken a leading part in the war by the advice
which he gave to the Welsh. His name Cenred bespeaks English birth;
the form of the name is Mercian; if he had passed from the earldom of
either Hugh to the side of the Welsh, he would naturally be looked on
as a traitor, and his treason would explain the excessive harshness
with which he was treated. The old man was dragged out of a church;
besides more shameful suffering, one eye was torn out, and his tongue
was also cut out.[345] This last form of mutilation seems to have been
confined to himself, and it may have been meant as specially befitting
one who had used that dangerous member to give counsel to the enemy.
And now, according to our story, happened one of those signs and
wonders which were at the time naturally deemed miraculous, but for
which modern times have supplied, if not an explanation, at least a
parallel. Cenred fared like the victims of Gelimer of old, like the
victims of Djezzar in modern times; three days after the loss of his
tongue, his speech came back to him.[346] Four days later again, so
men deemed at Worcester, came vengeance on one at least of the two
earls for the cruel deed which they had wrought on him.[347]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Expedition of Magnus Barefoot.]
[Sidenote: Character of his reign. 1093-1103.]
[Sidenote: His surnames.]
[Sidenote: 1093-1098.]
[Sidenote: He professes friendship for England.]
[Sidenote: His treasure at Lincoln.]
If wikings from Ireland had betrayed the cause of the Britons, a far
mightier wiking was now afloat, if not to give help to the Britons, at
least to act as a minister of wrath upon their enemies. The tale of
Stamfordbridge seems to come over again on the western, instead of the
eastern, side of the British islands. For a grandson of Harold
Hardrada shows himself at the head of a power almost equalling that of
his grandfather; he brings a grandson of Godwine in his train, he
overcomes two Mercian earls, and finds his own doom, not indeed in
Yorkshire, but in Ireland. But the enterprise which recalls so many
points in the enterprise of two-and-thirty years earlier was not in
any strict sense an invasion of England. Magnus, the son of that
peaceful Olaf of whom we have heard in the Conqueror’s day,[348] now
reigned in Norway in the spirit of his grandfather rather than in that
of his father. He bore various surnames, as the Tall and the
Lover-of-Strife; but his name has gone down in history with the
special epithet of Magnus Barefoot――more strictly it would seem
Bare-leg――a name which is said to have been given to him as one of the
results of the enterprise of which we have now to speak. After showing
himself for five years as a mighty warrior in his own peninsula,
Magnus set forth to bring more western lands under his obedience.
Against England he professed to have no designs, and the little that
we casually hear of him in connexion with England seems to imply
friendly relations. His son Sigurd, afterwards famous as the Crusader,
was the child of an English captive. Her name of Thora witnesses to
her Scandinavian descent;[349] but her captivity could not have been
the work of the arms of Magnus. Either now or at some later time, he
entrusted a great treasure, twenty thousand pounds of silver, to the
keeping of a rich citizen of Lincoln,[350] a sign of the high place
which was still held by the city of the Danish Lawmen, and of the
connexion which its citizens still kept up with the kingdoms of the
North.[351]
[Sidenote: Harold son of Harold in his fleet.]
But, peaceful as might be the professions of Magnus toward England,
there was one in his fleet whose presence could not fail to call up
thoughts of deeds which had been done, or which might again be done,
on English ground. We learn from one of the most casual of notices
that Magnus had with him a man who, if the course of things had gone
otherwise a generation earlier, might then himself have been the
wearer of the English crown, who would at least have stood nearer to
it than either the Ætheling of the blood of Cerdic or the Ætheling of
the blood of Rolf. It could hardly have been without an object that
the grandson of Harold the son of Sigurd brought with him the son of
Harold the son of Godwine. Strange indeed was the fate of the twin
sons of the doubly widowed Ealdgyth.[352] Each flashes across our
sight for a moment, and only for a moment. Ulf we have seen the
prisoner of the Conqueror; we have seen him sent forth by the
Conqueror’s son to go in freedom and honour, but to go we know not
whither.[353] And now, for once in the course of a life which must
have been a chequered one, we hear the name of his brother. Some ship
in the fleet of Magnus bore, as its guest or as its captain, Harold
the son of Harold King of the English.[354] Whence he came, whither he
went, before and after that one voyage to the shores of Britain, we
know not. Grandson of Godwine, grandson of Ælfgar, begotten, but not
born, to the kingship of England, the child of the widow did not see
the light in the City of the Legions till his father had found his
cairn upon the rocks of Hastings, perhaps his tomb before the altar at
Waltham. What friendly hand saved him, when his brother came into the
Conqueror’s power, we know not, any more than we know the later
fortunes of his mother. But now the younger Harold came, the guest of
one whose grandfather had felt the might, as his father had felt the
mild-heartedness, of the elder Harold.[355] His voyage brought him not
near to either the most glorious or the most mournful memories of his
father. The fleet of Magnus kept aloof alike from the shores of
Yorkshire and from the shores of Sussex. But the younger Harold came
to look for a moment on the land where his mother had dwelled as a
queen, and which his father had filled with the trophies of his
conquest.[356] He came to see the British shores lined with English
warriors, but to see them under the rule of the Norman leaders who had
divided between them so great a part of the earldom of his mother’s
house, and the elder of whom reigned as all but a king in the city of
his own birth. Son and nephew of the three who died on Senlac, he saw
from the Norwegian ship the fall of the son of the man who led the
charge which first broke down the English palisade upon that hill of
doom.[357] And then, his name once spoken, he passes away into utter
darkness. Of Ulf, the knight of the Norman duke, of Harold the comrade
of the Norwegian king, we have no tale to tell save that they were
such.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Magnus’ designs on Ireland.]
[Sidenote: His alleged Irish marriage.]
[Sidenote: Irish marriage of his son Sigurd.]
[Sidenote: His voyage among the islands.]
[Sidenote: Dominion of Godred Cronan.]
[Sidenote: 1075-1091.]
[Sidenote: 1078.]
[Sidenote: Godred driven out of Dublin. 1094.]
[Sidenote: His death.]
[Sidenote: 1095.]
[Sidenote: His sons, Lagman and Harold.]
[Sidenote: Donald sent by Murtagh to the Sudereys.]
[Sidenote: Ingemund sent by Magnus.]
[Sidenote: Civil war in Man.]
One version of our tale speaks of Ireland as the main object of the
expedition of Magnus, as it certainly was the object of his last
expedition some years later. He had, it is said, married the daughter
of an Irish king, but his father-in-law had failed to carry out the
marriage-contract.[358] There is nothing of this in the Norwegian
account, which speaks only of a later marriage between Sigurd son of
Magnus and a daughter of King Murtagh.[359] But it seems clear from a
comparison of the various accounts that Magnus did, at some stage of
the present voyage, make an attack on Ireland; it seems reasonable
therefore to suppose that Irish enterprise formed part of his scheme
from the beginning.[360] Our own narrative is more concerned with his
course along the shores of our own island, in which however he seems
to have barely touched Britain itself, in either its Scottish or its
English regions. His exploits lay among the smaller islands of the
British seas, most of which had at that moment more to do with Ireland
than with either England or Scotland. It is not easy to call up from
among many conflicting statements an exact picture of the state of
things at the time. In the interval between the expedition of Harold
Hardrada and the expedition of his grandson, Godred the son of Harold,
surnamed Cronan, he whom we have heard of at Stamford bridge,[361] had
raised up a considerable dominion of which Man was the centre. He
ruled over Dublin and the greater part of Leinster, and over the
Sudereys or Hebrides; and, if the chronicle of his own island may be
believed, he drove the Scots to a singular treaty, the object of which
must have been to hinder Scotland from becoming a naval power.[362] We
may guess that some of the piratical adventurers of whom we have heard
once or twice in our Welsh notices, as for instance in the story of
Robert of Rhuddlan and again in the tale which we have just told, were
in truth subjects of Godred. But the dominion of Godred was one of
those powers which seem as it were casually founded, and which seldom
long outlive the reign of their founder. His Irish dominion did not
last even so long as his own life. After seventeen years of
possession, he was driven out of Dublin by Murtagh, and in the next
year he died, leaving three sons, Lagman, Harold, and Olaf, of whom
Lagman succeeded to his island dominion. In the Manx version of the
tale, Lagman, disturbed by a rebellion of his brother Harold, took a
frightful revenge by inflicting on him the usual cruel mutilations.
Then, smitten with remorse, he made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem and
died there.[363] The chief men of the Sudereys, hearing of his death,
asked King Murtagh for a ruler during the minority of Olaf. This would
almost look as if Murtagh had not only driven Godred out of Ireland,
but had established some kind of supremacy over Man itself. But the
ruler sent, Donald by name, proved a tyrant, and was driven out.[364]
Then we are told that Magnus himself sent one Ingemund to take the
crown of the Isles, that the chief men came together in Lewis to make
him king but that his outrages on their wives and daughters made them
change their purpose. Instead of crowning him, they burned him in his
house, and slew all his followers with fire and sword.[365] Directly
after, we read of a civil war in the isle of Man itself, in which the
leaders of both parties were killed.[366] The Norwegian story tells us
nothing of all this; it conceives Godred as still living at the time
of the expedition of Magnus, and Lagman as acting under his
father.[367] The Manx version, though confused in its chronology and
mixed up with some legendary details, gives the more intelligible
story of the two. We see a time of confusion in Man, Ireland, and the
Sudereys, which the Norwegian King tries to turn to his own advantage.
The slaughter of his candidate for the island crown might have been
looked on as ground for war by princes more scrupulous in such matters
than Magnus Barefoot.
[Sidenote: Signs and wonders.]
[Sidenote: Legend of Magnus and Saint Olaf.]
[Sidenote: His fleet.]
A King of the Northmen could hardly set out on a great enterprise
without signs and wonders; but the signs and wonders which marked the
expedition of Magnus are of a different kind from those which marked
the expedition of Harold Hardrada. Or rather, one of the two elements
which we see in the tale of Harold had, in the thirty years which had
passed, waxed strong enough to drive out the other. In the days of
Harold the omens and visions still savour of the old times of
Scandinavian heathendom. Saint Olaf indeed appears in his character of
a Christian martyr, to remind us that we are reading the deeds of
baptized men; but the general tone is that of the worshippers of Thor
and Odin.[368] But the tale which is now told of Magnus is a mere
piece of every-day mediæval hagiology. It reminds us of some of the
tales which are told of William the Great and of others.[369] Magnus,
great-nephew of Saint Olaf, is seized with an irreverent longing to
test the truth of the boast that the body of his martyred kinsman had
not seen corruption. The body, first buried in a sandhill near Nidaros
or Trondhjem, was soon, like those of our own Harold and Waltheof,
translated to a worthier place in the great church of Nidaros. Its
incorruption had been already proved, and in their new place the holy
remains wrought wonders of healing and deliverance.[370] But now,
heedless of the remonstrances of the bishop and his clergy, Magnus
bade that the shrine should be opened, that he might see whether it
was even as the tale went. He saw and believed; and he not only
believed but trembled. He rushed out of the church, smitten with
sudden fear. In the night the martyr appeared to him and gave him his
choice of two forms of punishment. He must either lose his kingdom and
his life within thirty days, or else he must set forth from Norway and
never see the land again. Magnus gathered together his wise men; he
told them the vision, and by their advice, he chose the second
alternative, by far the less terrible to a king of the seas.[371] He
set forth, but it was on an errand of conquest, at the head of a fleet
of a hundred and sixty ships, a number far less than that of the
mighty armada which had come together at the bidding of his
grandfather.[372]
[Sidenote: Magnus at Orkney.]
[Sidenote: He seizes the earls.]
[Sidenote: He gives the earldom to Sigurd.]
[Sidenote: Magnus among the Sudereys;]
[Sidenote: in Cantire;]
[Sidenote: his dealings with Galloway.]
[Sidenote: His fruitless design on Ireland.]
[Sidenote: He occupies Man.]
[Sidenote: His designs.]
The teller of this tale has either misplaced the date of the real or
supposed vision, or else he has mixed up the present voyage of Magnus
with a later one. Magnus certainly saw Norway again after that one of
his expeditions which alone directly touches English history. He first
sailed to the Orkneys, where the brother earls, the sons of Thorfinn
and Ingebiorg, the half-brothers of Duncan of Scotland, still
reigned.[373] Their reign now ended. On what ground we are not told,
Paul and Erling, the allies of his grandfather, were dealt with by
Magnus as enemies. They were made prisoners, and were sent to Norway,
where they afterwards died.[374] His own young son Sigurd was
established in the rule of the earldom, with a council to advise
him.[375] Magnus then sailed among the Sudereys, plundering, burning,
and slaying. His minstrels and sagamen boast of his doings in this way
in the islands of Lewis, Uist, Skye, Mull, and Islay. But he
spared――the new faith of the Northmen prevailed thus far――the holy
island of Saint Columba, all whose inhabitants were freely received to
his peace.[376] The only part of the isle of Britain itself which he
seems to have touched was the long peninsula of Cantire, which might
pass rather for another island than for part of the mainland, and
which in truth formed a part of the insular realm. Thence, we are
told, he plundered such parts of the Irish and Scottish coasts as lay
within reach.[377] We read also in other versions that he made the men
of Galloway become hewers of wood for fortresses to be raised, perhaps
along their own shores.[378] We read too that at this stage he
designed a more deliberately planned attack on Ireland, but that he
shrank from carrying it out when he saw how strongly the Irish coasts
were guarded.[379] His next point was Man, which one narrator of his
exploits strangely describes him as finding forsaken, and as peopling
with inhabitants, from what quarter we are not told.[380] The local
chronicler tells us, doubtless with far greater truth, that he landed
on the island of Saint Patrick,――Holm Peel, the place of the famous
castle and cathedral church――that he was pleased with the land, and
built fortresses therein, meaning――so at least it was believed in
Man――to make the island his own dwelling-place.[381] Man, once
established as the seat of a great Northern empire, would certainly
have been a standing menace to all the regions and races of the
British islands. But the dominion of Magnus over Man was not handed on
to any successor of his own house, and during the few years which he
still lived, he did not make Man the centre of his power.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Version of Orderic.]
[Sidenote: He approaches Anglesey.]
[Sidenote: Preparations for resistance.]
[Sidenote: The fleet off Aberlleiniog.]
We now come near to that point in the expedition which brings it
immediately within the range of our present history. The writer who
gives us most detail deems the exploits of Magnus so great that he
lashes himself up to his highest flight of classical rhetoric. He
paints the Norwegian king as the conqueror of the Kyklades――not those
Kyklades of the Ægæan which his grandfather may well enough have
visited, but the other Kyklades in the great sea, lying as it were
outside the world.[382] To match this unlooked-for definition of the
Western islands, the winds which filled the sails of Magnus are
honoured with unusual names; and, by a sad relapse into paganism
Amphitritê seems to be called up as a special guardian of the English
shore.[383] Of the two islands which bore the name of Mevania, both of
which had obeyed the Bretwalda Eadwine, Magnus was already master of
one; he now drew near to the other. We are told that he sent a small
part of his fleet, consisting of six ships, to some unnamed point of
the more strictly English shore, bearing a red shield as a sign that
their purposes were peaceful.[384] But the people of Britain of all
races seem to have put little faith in the peaceful purposes of the
Northmen. A vast host, French and English, presently came together
from all parts of the dominions of the two Mercian earls. The
meeting-place is said to have been at Dwyganwy on the peninsula
opposite Anglesey, the scene of the fall of Robert of Rhuddlan.[385]
But there can be no doubt that the scene of the tale which we have to
tell lies on the opposite shore of Anglesey, and seemingly hard by the
newly restored castle of Aberlleiniog. Most likely the sea then came
in further over the low and marshy ground, and nearer to the
castle-mound, than it does now. Both the earls were on the spot; the
younger Hugh of Shrewsbury had been the first to come, and he had had
to wait some days for his allies. At last the Norwegian ships were
seen at sea near the coast, and the inhabitants were running to and
fro for fear. By this time the forces of Hugh of Chester must have
come up; but it is Hugh of Shrewsbury, the younger and more active of
the pair, who plays the chief part in the story. He mounted his horse,
and rode backwards and forwards along the shore, bringing his
followers together, lest the invaders should land and overcome them
piecemeal.[386] In his zeal he rode so near to the water as to come
within reach of the advancing tide and within bow-shot of the
Norwegian ships. Two archers on the ship of King Magnus spied him out,
and took aim. His body was so well guarded by his coat of mail that it
was his face only that supplied a mark for the archers. Of these one
was King Magnus himself; the other was a warrior from Halagoland, the
most northern part of the strictly Norwegian shore. The arrow shot by
the King’s comrade struck and turned aside from the nose-piece of the
Earl’s helmet. The shaft sent by the King’s own hand went yet more
truly to its mark; it pierced the eye of Hugh and went through his
head. Hugh the Proud sank, and perished amid the advancing waves.[387]
He died by a stroke like that by which the elder Harold fell on
Senlac; and we could almost wish that it had been the hand of the
younger Harold that sent the shaft.
[Sidenote: Norwegian and Welsh versions.]
[Sidenote: Peace between Magnus and Hugh of Chester.]
[Sidenote: Burial of Hugh of Shrewsbury.]
That shaft was, according to the monk of Saint Evroul, sent by the
hand of Magnus, but by the special instigation of the devil. To the
minstrels of Norway the death of Earl Hugh seemed a worthy exploit.
They sang, not of a single shot, but of a fierce battle, in which the
Norwegian king, lord of the islands, met the Welsh earls[388] face to
face. They told how the arrows rattled on the coats of mail, and how
the King’s own arrow overthrew Earl Hugh the Proud by the waters of
Anglesey.[389] The British chronicler too tells us, if not of the
fierce struggle described by the Northern poet, yet of arrows shot on
both sides, alike from the ships and by the defenders of the
land.[390] All agree that it was by the royal hand that the Earl fell.
But it is only from Saint Evroul that we hear that Magnus shot Hugh
unwittingly, and that he mourned when he knew who it was whom he had
slain. It is added that he at once made full peace with the surviving
Earl Hugh of Chester, declaring that he had no hostile purposes
against England, but that he only wished to wage war with Ireland, and
to assert his dominion over the islands.[391] The body of Earl Hugh of
Shrewsbury was sought for with pains by Normans and English, and was
found at last, as the tide went back.[392] The only gentle one among
the sons of Mabel[393]――gentle, we may easily believe, to all but the
Britons, perhaps cruel to them only under the evil influence of his
elder namesake――was mourned by all, and was buried the seventeenth day
after his death in the cloister of his father’s abbey at
Shrewsbury.[394]
[Sidenote: Designs of Magnus on Anglesey.]
[Sidenote: Anglesey and North Wales subdued by Hugh.]
The words which we have just seen put into the mouth of Magnus are
words of doubtful meaning, and they might imply a claim to Anglesey,
as well as to the other islands. That Magnus came thither with
purposes of conquest we may set down as certain; it is less clear
whether those purposes were carried out, even for a moment. In Norway
it was believed that the overthrow of Earl Hugh put the King of the
Northmen in possession of Anglesey, which is strangely spoken of as a
third of the British land.[395] In Man it was said that Magnus, having
slain one earl and put another to flight, occupied Anglesey, but that
he was persuaded by the Welsh, on the payment of a heavy ransom, to
leave the island and sail back to Man.[396] Certain it is that, if
Magnus took any real possession of Anglesey, it was a momentary
possession indeed. According to the British chroniclers, he sailed
away at once, so that his coming and the death of one of the earls did
not really hinder the joint work of the two. For a moment Anglesey,
and with it seemingly the greater part of North Wales, was brought
more thoroughly than ever under Norman or English rule. The phrase by
which the Welsh writer sets forth the result has a strange sound; but
it does not badly describe the final work of these endless wars. The
French, he says, made the people become Saxons.[397] But for the
present this work was done only for a moment. In the course of the
next year, Anglesey was again, neither in French nor in Saxon, but in
British hands.[398]
[Sidenote: Sigurd’s kingdom.]
[Sidenote: Occupation of Cantire.]
[Sidenote: Dealings of Magnus with Scotland.]
We shall hear again of Magnus in the revolutions both of Anglesey and
of other parts of North Wales. For the present, satisfied with the
glory of having carried the Norwegian arms further south in the
British islands than any of his predecessors had done,[399] he seems
to have sailed, first to Man and then to Ireland. There he made a
truce with Murtagh, and, at a later time, he married the daughter of
the Irish king to his own son Sigurd. This youth was now entrusted
with the rule of all the Orkneys and Hebrides, and that with the
kingly title.[400] Of his kingdom Cantire formed a part; the peninsula
had been formally taken possession of by the Norwegian king. This was
done by a symbolic rite, which well expressed the dominion of a king
of the seas over the land. Magnus was drawn in a ship across the
isthmus which joins Cantire to the mainland. The occupation of Cantire
was, according to the Norwegian writer, the result of a treaty with
Malcolm King of Scots;[401] but the expedition of Magnus took place
during the reign of Eadgar. Magnus then went back to Norway, to
receive his surname from the dress of the islanders, the use of which
he and his followers brought into their own land. He then occupied
himself for a while with Scandinavian affairs, till his restless
spirit again brought him within the range of our story.
§ 6. _The establishment of Robert of Bellême in England._ 1098.
[Sidenote: Effects of the death of Hugh of Shrewsbury.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême Earl of Shrewsbury. 1098.]
[Sidenote: He buys his brother’s possessions.]
[Sidenote: Extent of his estates.]
[Sidenote: Doubtful policy of the grant.]
[Sidenote: Position of Robert on the continent.]
Of the two earls who had crossed over to Anglesey to meet with such
singular ups and downs of fortune, it was the elder who came back
alive. Hugh of Chester, Hugh the Fat, had still to rule for a few
years longer till he died a monk at Saint Werburh’s. But the
short-lived reign of Hugh the Proud at Shrewsbury and Arundel had come
to an end, and his death led to important changes in all those parts
of England with which he had had to deal, but above all in his own
earldom on the Welsh border. A large part of that district, a district
the most important of all in a military point of view, passed under
the rule of the man who was at once the most merciless of oppressors
and the most skilful of military engineers. The Red King and his
minister had now an opportunity of carrying out their doctrines with
regard to the redemption of lands on a grand scale. The King was
doubtless ready to be the heir of Earl Hugh, as of all other men; but,
as in the case of other men, he was willing to allow the next kinsman
to redeem the inheritance, if he offered a becoming price. So now,
when Robert of Bellême claimed the earldom and lands of his deceased
brother, he obtained a grant of them on a payment of three thousand
pounds.[402] This was nearly half the sum for which William Rufus had
made himself master of all Normandy; but it was perhaps not too great
a price to pay for the great earldom of Shropshire with its endless
castles and lordships, for Arundel and Chichester and the other
South-Saxon lands of Roger of Montgomery, and for the rest of his
possessions scattered over many English shires. Robert of Bellême,
specially so called as the son of his mother, but who was no less
Robert of Montgomery as the son of his father, and who now became no
less Robert of Arundel and of Shrewsbury, thus joined together in his
own person three inheritances, any one of which alone might have set
him among princes. One might doubt whether William the Conqueror would
have been tempted by any price to allow the accumulation of such vast
powers in the hands of one man, and that a man whose homage was not
due to himself only. But with William the Red the services and the
payments of Robert of Bellême together outweighed any thought of the
policy which might have led him rather to bestow the vacant earldom
and other lands on some other among the sons of Earl Roger. Robert was
now at the height of his power and his fame――such fame as his
was――beyond the sea. We shall read in the next chapter of his doings
in Maine this very year, the doings of which he now received the
reward. To the Norman heritage of his father, to the marchlands which
he had inherited from his mother, to the lands which mother and son
had snatched from so many Norman and Cenomannian holders, Robert now
added all that his father had received from the Conqueror’s grant
among the conquered English, and all that his father had won for
himself among the half-conquered Welsh.
[Sidenote: His new position in England.]
[Sidenote: Comparison with the Counts of Mortain.]
[Sidenote: Comparison of Robert of Bellême and Hugh of Chester.]
[Sidenote: Unique position of Robert.]
The establishment of Robert of Bellême in England marks an epoch in
our story. Though we have already so often heard of him, not only in
continental affairs but in the affairs of our own island, he had not
yet, as far as we can see, held any English possessions at all;
certainly he had none which put him on a level with the great Norman
land-owners. From this time he is something more than merely one among
them; he at once begins to play the part of the foremost among them,
foremost alike in power and in ambition. His namesake, Robert of
Mortain and of Cornwall, had held as great a number of English acres,
and his death had handed over the vast heritage to his son. But
neither of the Counts of Mortain had any personal gifts which could
win for them the personal position which was held by Robert of
Bellême. The father was sluggish; the son was turbulent; neither of
them was the peer of the great captain and engineer who was now to
lord it over the British march. Nor did the nature and position of his
estates give to the grandson of Herleva the same advantages which
belonged to the son of Mabel. The one was, bating the title of Earl,
as great in Cornwall as the other was in Shropshire; but the lord of
Cornwall might, if he chose, sleep idly, while the lord of Shropshire
was driven to constant action against a restless enemy. Each had a
great position in Sussex; but the position of the lord of Arundel and
Chichester was practically higher than that of the lord of Pevensey.
The vast scattered possessions held by the Count of Mortain throughout
England added more to his wealth than to his political power. Earl
Hugh of Chester was in his own earldom even greater than Robert was in
his; but Earl Hugh was growing old, and ambitious as he was, he seems
to have kept his ambition within certain geographical bounds, in those
regions of Normandy and of Britain which destiny seemed to have set
before him. There can be no doubt that, at this moment, Robert of
Bellême held a position in England which he shared with no rival in
the island, and which was backed by a power beyond sea which put him
rather on a level with sovereign dukes and counts than with ordinary
nobles.
[Sidenote: Effects of his coming.]
[Sidenote: Robert a stranger in England.]
[Sidenote: Cruelty of the new earl.]
[Sidenote: His spoliations.]
To the men of the borderland, of whatever race, the change of masters
was a frightful one. To the settled inhabitants, Norman and English,
it must have been like yet another foreign conquest. The change is
marked in the change of name; the surname of the new lord comes from
the lands of his mother which lay beyond the bounds either of England
or of Normandy. Hugh of Montgomery is exchanged for Robert of Bellême.
The new master from the march of Normandy and Maine must, twenty-nine
years after the conquest of Shropshire, have seemed a stranger, not
only to Englishmen, but to Normans of the first settlement, still more
so to men who were of Norman parentage but of English birth. In its
personal aspect the change of lords must have been a matter of
shuddering. The rule of Earl Roger had been tolerable; the four years
of Earl Hugh we have seen spoken of as a reign of special mildness, at
least for his own people. But now they had a lord of another kind.
English and Welsh, we are told, had smiled at the tales of the deeds
of Robert in other lands; they listened to them as to the song of the
bard or the gleeman, deeming that, if such things were done, they were
at least done far away from themselves. But now they found in their
own persons that those tales were true, when, in the strong words of a
writer of those times, they were flayed alive by the iron claws of
Earl Robert.[403] The Earl himself, great as he was in power and
wealth, was only puffed up by what he had to hanker after yet more. He
spared no man, of whatever race or order, whose lands lay conveniently
to his hand, nor did he scruple to take away from the saints
themselves what the men of the elder time had given to them.[404]
[Sidenote: His skill in castle-building.]
[Sidenote: His defence of Shropshire.]
[Sidenote: 1094.]
[Sidenote: Early history of the Shropshire fortresses.]
[Sidenote: 896.]
[Sidenote: Æthelflæd fortifies Bridge (north). 912.]
But Robert of Bellême was something more than an ordinary plunderer;
he was a man of genius in his way; whatever he either inherited or
seized on was sure to be strengthened by the best engineering skill of
his time.[405] In the gradual work of planting both England and
Normandy with castles he had no small share; and his skill is nowhere
more to be admired than in the way in which he adapted his designs to
the varying circumstances of different places. He built at Bridgenorth
and he built at Gisors; there is little that is alike in the two
fortresses, because there is little that is alike in the position of
the two points which those fortresses severally had to defend. The
former, Robert of Bellême’s great creation on English ground, held a
most important place in the defences of the middle course of the
Severn. The Welsh wars of this reign had brought that whole line of
country into renewed importance. If the power of England under her
Norman masters was stretching further and further over the British
lands, that very advance laid the English lands more and more open to
passing and occasional British ravages. The experience of such warfare
within the English border was quite fresh. When Robert of Bellême took
his earldom, four years only had passed since Shropshire and
Herefordshire had been laid waste,[406] just as in the old days when
Gruffydd smote the Saxon at Rhyd-y-Groes.[407] The new Earl of
Shropshire therefore found it needful to strengthen the whole line of
defences of the Severn. Strong as was the capital of his earldom on
its peninsular height, it was well to have, in the rear of Shrewsbury,
another great fortress on a lower point of the river, a point whose
importance is witnessed by its name; it is emphatically the _Bridge_.
The whole region had been carefully fortified, perhaps in earlier days
still, certainly in the days when the Dane as well as the Briton had
to be guarded against. In the last campaign of Ælfred, the Danes,
finding it expedient to leave the neighbourhood of London, had marched
across the whole breadth of England from Thames to Severn, and had
_wrought_ a _work_ beside that river at _Quatbridge_.[408] Sixteen
years later, the victorious Lady, the guardian of the Mercian land,
had _timbered_ the _burh_ at _Bridge_. At a somewhat lower point, the
enemy against whom Ælfred and his daughter had to strive has left his
memory in the name of Danesford. The _Bridge_ was the site of the
chosen stronghold of Robert of Bellême. But when his discerning eye
marked the spot for a great military centre, he did but do afresh what
had been already done by the native guardian of England. The fortress
of Robert of Bellême was but a calling into fresh being, a
strengthening with new works, of the older fortress of Æthelflæd.[409]
[Illustration:
Map
illustrating the
SHROPSHIRE CAMPAIGN.
A.D. 1102.
Edwᵈ. Weller
_For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press._]
[Sidenote: Older mound of Quatford.]
[Sidenote: Quatford Castle.]
[Sidenote: Earl Roger’s house.]
[Sidenote: His chapel.]
It is somewhat singular that in the line of defence traced by Robert’s
father so commanding a site as that of the Bridge did not hold the
first place. The strong place of Roger of Montgomery lies between
three and four miles lower down the river. There, on the left, the
English, side of the Severn, we meet with the first――first to one
going up the stream――of our present group of fortresses. A bold
height, of no very great positive elevation, marks the position of the
church and mound of Quatford, standing side by side, as is so often
seen both in our own island and beyond sea. The mound is a natural
height rising close above the river, ditched and scarped as was
needed, but raised only slightly above its original height. This elder
fortification, the dwelling-place of some English thegn of the old
time, seems to have given way, either before or after the coming of
the Norman, to a stronghold a little way further up the river, which
still bears the name of Quatford Castle. A sandstone hill, standing
isolated, near to the river but not immediately on its banks, was,
like the smaller and older post, improved and raised into a castle
mound, perhaps by Earl Roger himself, perhaps by some earlier holder.
There the Survey records his new house and his borough; and we may
fairly see his work in the well which still remains bored deep in the
heart of the rock.[410] In the days of King Eadward the lordship of
Eardington had been held by Saint Mildburh of Wenlock. But, if Earl
Roger, who passes for the refounder of that house,[411] did any wrong
to its patroness, he may be held to have atoned for it by the
collegiate chapel which he raised at Quatford. It was founded at the
request of his wife, not the proud and cruel Mabel, but her pious and
gentle successor Adeliza. A pleasing legend is told of the origin of
the chapel and of the house, a legend which, if it contains any kernel
of truth, points to Earl Roger as having been the first to occupy
Quatford Castle as a dwelling, and which may account for the
restoration of the far more tempting site of the old fortress of the
Lady being left to be the work of his son.[412]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême removes to Bridge (north).]
[Sidenote: Oldbury.]
[Sidenote: Oldbury and Bridgenorth.]
The new rule now began, and the home of Roger and Adeliza was forsaken
by Earl Robert for the far stronger point higher up the river, and on
the opposite, the right or Welsh bank.[413] Here, in contrast to the
mere fords at other points, to Quatford itself and to the Danesford
above it, stood the _bridge_ which still forms so marked a feature,
and which had given the spot its name. _Bridge_ then, the stronghold
of Æthelflæd, became the stronghold of Robert of Bellême; and now,
perhaps from its position with regard to his father’s dwelling at
Quatford, it came to be specially distinguished as _Bridgenorth_. A
steep cliff overhangs the river at a point where the opposite ground
is high, where the stream is far wider than it again becomes lower
down, and where the channel is divided by an island, such as those by
which the Danes loved to anchor, whether in the Seine or in the
Severn. And, as the Danes are recorded to have _wrought_ a _work_ in
clear distinction from the _burh_ which the Lady afterwards
_timbered_, we are tempted to see that work in a mound not far from
the bridge, and on the same side as the river, but not rising
immediately above the river’s banks. A natural height has been
ditched, scarped, and raised to a level somewhat lower than that of
the cliff immediately above the stream, the cliff which was chosen for
the fortress, first of the Lady and then of the rebel Earl. It is
plainly in opposition to this last that the place had, before the time
of Domesday, received the name of Oldbury, which is still borne by the
parish in which it stands.[414] The cliff itself, the site of the
castle and town of Bridgenorth, has a peninsular shape so strongly
marked that it is hard to believe that the river runs on one side of
it only, and that Bridgenorth and Oldbury are divided, not by a
stream, but by a dry valley, in those days doubtless not dry, but
marshy. The sites of the older and the newer fortress still look on
one another, though the older has again become only a grassy mound,
while the younger grew into a fortress, parish, and town, and still
remains a parliamentary borough.
[Sidenote: Bridgenorth castle;]
[Sidenote: Robert’s keep.]
[Sidenote: The churches and town of Bridgenorth.]
[Sidenote: The group of fortresses.]
[Sidenote: Burf Castle.]
The position of the great fortress of the oppressor is a noble one.
The mere height of the cliff at Bridgenorth is so much lower than many
of the surrounding hills of that lovely region that it makes less show
than might have been looked for in the general view. But, as we stand
close under it on the other side of the river, we feel that
Bridgenorth needs only buildings of equal majesty on its height to
make it rank with Lincoln, with Le Mans, almost with Laon itself. But
against the proud minsters of those cities Bridgenorth has nothing to
set in its general view save two church towers, one of them modern,
whose ugliness is not relieved by the fact that it represents the
castle church, the college of Bridgenorth, transferred thither by
Robert of Bellême, when he moved castle, church, and everything from
their older home at Quatford. But Bridgenorth still keeps one object
of surpassing interest in our present story, that which is of a truth
the very cradle and kernel of the place, the shattered keep of Robert
of Bellême. There we have the good luck which we enjoy but seldom in
examining the military remains of this age, the strongholds of the men
of the Conquest and their immediate successors. Most commonly we light
on little more than the mere site, or the works of earlier or of later
times; it is only now and then that we actually see, in however
imperfect a state, some piece of genuine masonry belonging to the time
with which we are dealing. This satisfaction we have in no small
measure at Bridgenorth. There is the square keep of the terrible
founder of the fortress, broken down, riven asunder by some explosion
in the warfare of later times――what is left of it driven to overhang
its base like the tower of Caerphilly or the _Muro Torto_ of Rome――but
still keeping its main and distinctive features, still showing, in its
flat pilasters, its double-splayed windows,[415] the traces of its
double-sloped roof with the deep gutter,[416] what that stern, hard,
tower was when the Devil of Bellême first called it into being. We can
just trace the gateway which the keep commanded between the inner and
outer courts of the castle, and we can see the ruins of the advanced
building which sheltered the actual entrance of the keep itself. The
square tower, so characteristic of Norman military work, is after all
so rare in this its earlier form that every such fragment as this of
Bridgenorth calls for most attentive study. Here we see the highest
advances in the art of defence, as practised by the man whose name
makes us shudder through almost every page of our story. At
Bridgenorth nature had done almost everything. The tall and steep
cliff called for nothing to be done in the way of mounds and ditches.
It was enough to fence in the height――that the Lady had doubtless done
after the fashion of her age――and to raise the keep――the distinctive
feature of Earl Robert’s age――as the last shelter in case of attack
from the land side. We can trace the inner and outer courts, the
latter containing the unsightly church which represents the college
within the castle. The other church stands nearly on a level with the
castle, parted from the castle hill by a dip which takes the form of a
steep road――_Cartway_ is the name it still keeps――leading down from
the town to the river. Few stronger or more striking sites of its own
scale could have been found. The Castle by the Bridge is not a
mountain fortress; far higher hills than the hill of Bridgenorth or
the hill of Quatford come within the general view. But the stronghold
of Æthelflæd and Robert served better than any loftier point could
have done for its own immediate work. No other point could have served
so well to guard the most important point of the river, and to shelter
the older borders of England against any desperate attempt of the
Britons to carry their endless warfare far within her later borders.
The whole group, Bridgenorth, Oldbury, the two Quatfords, are a
succession of strongholds which form a whole. All are within sight of
one another, though it might be hard to find a point which directly
commands all four at once. A little further inland, on the Quatford
side of the river, a broad hill, fenced in by a slight earthwork, and
known as Burf Castle, commands the widest and most striking view of
all, the round back of the Wrekin, the sharp rise and fall of the
Titterstone, with a boundless view over the lower country to the
north-east. This is undoubtedly the site of an early stronghold, which
may have played its part in the days of the Lady or in the old time
before her. But there is no sign that it entered into the military
reckoning of Roger of Montgomery or of Robert of Bellême.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert builds the castle of Careghova.]
[Sidenote: His Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire estates.]
[Sidenote: Roger of Bully.]
[Sidenote: His Yorkshire estates.]
[Sidenote: Position of Tickhill.]
[Sidenote: The castle.]
The great engineering works at Bridgenorth seem to have occupied the
mind of Earl Robert during the whole of the few remaining years of his
English career. We shall find that they were not fully finished four
years later. At the same time, while he fenced in Bridgenorth in the
rear of the capital of his earldom, he raised another stronghold in
advance of it, within the later Welsh border, at Careghova,
immediately on Offa’s Dyke.[417] And he was at the same time extending
his possessions in a more peaceful region, where no inroads of Britons
or Northmen were to be feared. On the borders of Yorkshire and
Nottinghamshire stood a chief seat of one who, in the extent of his
possessions, ranked as one of the foremost men in England. This was
Roger of Bully, who took his name from a Norman lordship in the land
of Braye, lying west of what was to be the New Castle of King Henry,
on the high ground which overlooks the forest of Saint-Saen, the home
of the faithful Helias. The name of Roger of Bully――the spellings of
the name are endless――is less commonly mentioned in our tale than we
might have looked for. He was a great land-owner in Yorkshire; he was
one of the greatest land-owners in Nottinghamshire, and he held
considerable estates in other parts of England. He had supplanted two
English earls in their special homes; he sat by the hearth of Eadwine
and by the hearth of Waltheof; in another spot, the holdings of ten
English thegns had been rolled together into a single lordship to
enrich the fortunate stranger.[418] Among his Yorkshire estates
he held the exceptionally favoured lands of Sprotburgh and
Barnburgh, which had remained untouched in the general harrying of
Northumberland.[419] He seems to have won the special favour of the
greatest ladies of the Conqueror’s court; if he held the hall of
Hallam, the hall of Waltheof, it was by the gift of Waltheof’s widow
Judith;[420] and an estate which he held in distant Devonshire is set
down as the gift of Queen Matilda herself.[421] Yet this man, who
holds so great a place in the Survey, plays no visible part in
history; he lives only in the record of Domesday and in his still
abiding work in a minster and a castle of his own rearing. Just within
the borders of Yorkshire, at no great distance from the shires both of
Nottingham and Lincoln, Roger had occupied an English dwelling-place,
entered in the Survey as Dadesley, but which afterwards grew into
greater note by the name of Tickhill.[422] Like many other
dwelling-places of English lords, Dadesley or Tickhill must have been
chosen simply as a convenient centre for the estates of its owner. It
is no natural stronghold; the post seems to have no special military
advantages; it crowns no steep, it commands no river, it bars the
entrance to no valley. A low hill of sandstone was improved by art
into one of the usual mounds, and it had been in King Eadward’s day
the possession of Ælfsige and Siward. The mound, as in other places,
was in after time taught to bear a polygonal keep, and its sides were
themselves strengthened by masonry. The keep, of which the foundations
only are left, was of later date than the days with which we are
concerned. And we may fully believe that parts at least of the circuit
wall of the castle, and still more, that the elder parts of the
gatehouse, with a face of ornaments and sculptures which almost remind
us of the work of the great Emperor’s day at Lorsch, are due to the
taste, such as it was, of the first Norman lord of Tickhill.
[Sidenote: The priory of Blyth, founded 1088.]
[Sidenote: Name of Blyth and Tickhill used indiscriminately.]
[Sidenote: Death of Roger of Bully.]
[Sidenote: The lands of Roger of Bully granted to Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: Impolicy of the grant.]
[Sidenote: Greatness of Robert of Bellême.]
The nomenclature of the lands of Roger of Bully has been singularly
shifting. Dadesley gave way to Tickhill. But Tickhill is not the only
name borne by Roger’s stronghold. It not uncommonly takes the name of
a more certain memorial of him which lies only a few miles off, but
within the bounds of another shire. In the year of the first rebellion
of the Red King’s reign, Roger of Bully had founded a monastery
dependent on the abbey of the Holy Trinity at Rouen. It was reared on
a point of his possessions known as Blyth, lying within the borders of
Nottinghamshire, and near a river which joins the old historic stream
of the Idle.[423] The nave of Roger’s church still stands; there is no
mistaking the distinguishing marks of the earliest Norman style, even
in a building whose loftiness and narrowness have more in common with
later forms of art.[424] Blyth became at least as famous as Tickhill.
The castle, with the honour of which it formed the head, is called by
both names, and we shall find as we go on that the same incident in
our story is placed by some of our authorities at Blyth and by others
at Tickhill.[425] Roger, founder of both castle and monastery, seems
to have died about the time when Robert of Bellême was strengthening
himself at Bridgenorth and Careghova. His lands went at once to swell
the possessions of the terrible Earl. On some plea of kindred, Robert
demanded them of the King. William was as ready to grant him the lands
of Blyth and Hallam as he had been to grant him the earldom of
Shropshire and the other possessions of his father. But he was no more
inclined than he was then to grant anything without a consideration.
Earl Robert was allowed to redeem the heritage of his kinsman, but to
redeem it only on payment of a great sum.[426] We may again doubt
whether William the Great would have allowed such a redemption, even
in the days when he had fallen into covetousness and greediness he
loved withal. With the Conqueror neither greediness nor anything else
ever came before policy. He whose policy it had been to separate
Norman and English estates in the second generation, who had taken
care that no son of his own chosen friend should hold Breteuil and
Hereford in a single hand,[427] would surely never have allowed any
one man to have reached the gigantic height of wealth and power which
was now reached by Robert of Bellême. The gathering together of such
vast possessions in Normandy and England in the hands of one who had
some pretensions to rank as a prince beyond the bounds of Normandy and
England almost amounted to a direct challenge to their owner to
dispute the great lesson of Rochester, and to see whether there was
not at least one subject in England whom the King of England could not
control.
That question had yet to be tried, and to be tried in the person of
the new lord of Tickhill. But it was not raised during the short
remnant of the days of William the Red. The two powers of evil
contrived to pull together in friendly guise as long as the days of
unlaw and unright lasted. And the longer those days lasted, the
blacker and the bitterer they grew. The greater the power and wealth
which was gathered together in the hands of Robert of Bellême, the
greater, we are told, was the pride and cruelty of that son of
Belial.[428] He may by this time have grown weary of oppression in the
familiar scenes of his evil deeds on both sides of the sea. The death
of Robert of Bully opened to him a new and wide human hunting-ground
in Nottinghamshire and Yorkshire. But his hold on all that he had
within our island was fated to be short. We are drawing near to the
end of the reign and the life of William Rufus, and, when the reign
and life of William Rufus were over, the English power of Robert of
Bellême did not last long.
* * * * *
But before we come to the last days of the Red King in his island
kingdom, we must again cross the sea, to follow the warlike campaigns
of his latest days, to trace out the wide-reaching schemes of dominion
which filled his restless soul, his fitful energy in beginning
enterprises, his strange waywardness in leaving them half done. And
now will come the living contrast between unright, as embodied in
William Rufus, and right, as embodied this time, not in a man of the
church and the cloister, but in a man of his own order, a layman, a
prince, a soldier. We have had one chapter where the main interest has
gathered round Anselm of Aosta; we are now coming to another in which
the main interest will gather round Helias of La Flèche.
CHAPTER VI.
THE LAST WARS OF WILLIAM RUFUS.[429]
1097-1099.
[Sidenote: Character of the last years of Rufus. 1097-1100.]
[Sidenote: Little to record at home, and much abroad.]
[Sidenote: Temper and schemes of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: His designs on France.]
The latter years of the reign of the Red King, beginning from the
departure of Anselm, are far richer in foreign than in domestic
events. Even within the isle of Britain we have, as we have already
seen, chiefly to deal with the lands which lie beyond the actual
English kingdom. Scotland has received a king at the bidding of the
over-lord in England. A deep plan has been laid for the better
subjugation of the seemingly unconquerable Welsh. A Norwegian king has
slain an earl of England in strife on the shore of a Welsh island. But
within England itself the greatest event which we have had to record
has been the immediate result of that distant strife in the succession
to an English earldom. When Robert of Bellême became the most powerful
subject in England, it was undoubtedly an event of no small importance
both at the moment and in its results. It added perceptibly to the
evils even of the reign of unlaw. Still it was not in itself an event
on the same scale as the rebellion of Odo or the rebellion of Robert
of Mowbray, or as the beginning or the ending of the dealings between
Anselm and the King. And the same character of the time goes on to the
end. There is in England itself nothing to record besides the great
architectural works of the King, a few ecclesiastical deaths and
appointments, and those natural portents and phænomena which are
characteristic of the whole time, and which come thicker upon us as we
draw nearer to the end. Beyond sea, on the other hand, this time of
less than three years is the most stirring time of the whole reign.
King of England, over-lord of Scotland, not in form Duke of the
Normans, but master of Normandy as his brother never was, the Red King
goes on to greater schemes. Rufus seems to have been always puffed up
by success, but never cast down by bad luck. His personal failure in
Wales was really a marked contrast to the success of Eadgar in
Scotland. But Rufus seems to have had the happy gift of plucking out
of all states of things whatever tended to gratify his pride, and of
forgetting all that looked the other way. He, or others in his name,
had set up a king at Dunfermline. This was enough to make him put out
of sight all thought that he had in his own person marched to Snowdon
and taken nothing by his march. He felt himself more than ever Monarch
of Britain, King of kings within his own island. We can believe that
it rankled in his soul that, outside that island, he was less than a
king. The lord of Normandy had in any case a formal over-lord in the
French King, and William Rufus was lord of Normandy only by an
anomalous and temporary title. He held the duchy only as a merchant
holds a pledge. We can well understand how such a man would chafe at
the thought that he had anywhere even a nominal superior. Such an one
as William deemed himself was dishonoured by being, even in the most
nominal way, the man of such an one as Philip. And the noblest way of
escaping from the acknowledgement of a superior was by himself taking
that superior’s place. The Monarch of Britain would be also Monarch of
Gaul, of so much at least of Gaul as in any sense admitted the
over-lordship of Paris. The lord of Winchester and Rouen would be lord
of Paris also. William wished for a war with France, and a war with
France could at any moment be had. The eternal question of the Vexin
stood always awaiting its solution.
[Sidenote: Wars with France and Maine.]
[Sidenote: Beginning of war. 1097-1098.]
[Sidenote: William crosses the sea.]
But a war with France was not the only war which William Rufus had now
to wage on the Gaulish mainland. He had to strive against a noble
city, a valiant people, ruled by a prince worthy of his city and his
people. Besides striving with France and Philip, he had to strive
against Maine, he had to strive against Helias. The war with France
was doubtless the object with which he crossed the sea; but mischief
had long been brewing in the troublesome land to the south of
Normandy, and about the time when the French war began, the standing
Cenomannian difficulty grew into open war also. William had thus two
wars to wage at once. These two wars, with France and with Maine, are
told in our narratives as if they were altogether distinct, and had no
bearing on one another. Yet the two were going on at the same time at
no great distance from one another, and some of the chief actors on
one side were flitting to and fro between the two. It is hard to say
in which region the first actual fighting took place. In both it must
have begun in the winter after Anselm had gone on one errand into
Burgundy and Eadgar on another into Scotland. It was then that King
William crossed the sea also, with the object doubtless of making war
on France. The Cenomannian war was thrown in as something incidental.
The war with Maine has in itself, as a tale, by far the greater charm
of the two. But it is needless to say that far higher interests were,
or might have been, at stake in the war with France. Of the
wide-reaching schemes of William Rufus, and of their remarkable
position among those things which might have been but which were not,
I have spoken at some length elsewhere.[430] But it is only in its
latest stage that the war showed even any likelihood of growing beyond
the scale of a border struggle. It was, in profession at least, a war
for the Vexin, and it was in the Vexin that it was mainly waged.
[Sidenote: Comparison of the two wars.]
[Sidenote: Comparative position of France and Maine.]
[Sidenote: Helias and Philip.]
[Sidenote: Advantage of the kingly dignity.]
The result of the war was widely different in the two cases. We may
sum it up by saying that Maine was subdued and that France was not.
Maine was at least held to be subdued. In the first Cenomannian war
the capital was taken; the prince was made a prisoner; so much of the
land as was really attacked was subdued. In the second war the capital
was taken and the prince was driven out. But against France no real
advantage at all seems to have been gained. To modern ideas this
difference may seem no wonderful result of the difference between the
invasion of a county and the invasion of a kingdom. But in the
eleventh century the resources of Maine could not have been very
greatly inferior to the resources of France. In one sense indeed the
resources of Maine were by far the greater of the two, inasmuch as
Helias reigned at Le Mans and Philip reigned at Paris. But in truth
the comparison between a county and a kingdom is not a fair one. The
France of those days was not a kingdom; it was simply that small part
of a great kingdom which was held to obey――which under Philip
certainly did not obey――the nominal king of the whole. The king was
simply that one among the princes of the kingdom who always claimed,
and who sometimes received, the homage of the others. We must never
underrate the vast moral advantage which the king drew from his kingly
dignity;[431] but, on the other hand, we must not be thereby led to
overrate the material strength of the king’s actual dominion.
Supposing that the resources of Maine and of France had been
positively equal, if Helias had the advantage over Philip that the one
was Helias and that the other was Philip, this advantage was far more
than counterbalanced by the fact that Philip was a king while Helias
was only a count. That he was a count of doubtful title, always
threatened by a neighbour more powerful than himself, was of course a
further incidental disadvantage; but the essential difference is
inherent in the position of the two princes and their dominions. The
king, even though the king was Philip, was a king, and men had
scruples about personally attacking one who was at once their own lord
on earth and the anointed of the Lord of Heaven. William Rufus
doubtless had no such scruples about that or about any matter; but
such scruples had been felt by his father; they were to be felt in
times to come by Henry of Le Mans and of Anjou, of Normandy and of
England.[432] Such scruples would not be felt by Normans withstanding
French aggression on their own land; we may remember how a lance
from the Côtentin had laid Philip’s father on the ground at
Val-ès-dunes.[433] They would not be felt by native Englishmen, to
whom Normandy, France, and Maine, were all alike foreign and hostile
lands. But we may suspect that there was many a knight in William’s
host who, when he went forth to invade the lands of the lord of his
lord in an utterly unprovoked quarrel, did not go forth with quite so
light a heart as that with which he went forth to win back for his
lord a land of which his lord had some shadow of ground for professing
that he had been robbed by one of his own men.
[Sidenote: Lewis son of Philip.]
Maine then was, in a sense, conquered; France was not conquered in any
sense. Le Mans was taken; Paris was hardly threatened. And this, we
may believe, was at least partly owing to the fact that Le Mans was
only the city of a count, while Paris was the city of a king. Both
lands had a champion in whom we may feel a personal interest. While we
follow the steps of an old acquaintance in Count Helias, we gladly
watch the beginnings of a new acquaintance, not indeed in King Philip
himself, but in his gallant son the Lord Lewis.[434] He has his
special biographer, and we only wish that the minute detail in which
we can read his actions in dealing with the immediate vassals of the
French duchy had been extended to the greater though shorter strife
which he had to wage against the sovereign of Normandy and England.
[Sidenote: Beginning of the war of Maine. January, 1098.]
It is not easy to tell the story of these two wars in exact
chronological order. The early part of the French war is told without
any dates, while we know when the actual fighting began in Maine. This
was in the January which followed William’s crossing to the continent,
the January of the year in which Earl Hugh was killed in Anglesey.
Whether there was any fighting on the French border earlier than that
we cannot tell. For a later stage of the French war we have dates, and
its dated stage clearly follows the end of the first Cenomannian war.
If we go back to the causes of the two struggles, it is equally hard
to find the beginning. In both cases there was a standing quarrel,
which might have broken out into war at any time. But the French war
has a certain right to precedence, inasmuch as it was doubtless rather
to attack France than to attack Maine that William Rufus crossed the
sea. It may therefore be our best course, first to trace out the
earlier undated part of the French war down to the point where there
is a clear break in the story. We may then follow the fortunes of Le
Mans and Maine, till we reach the later dated part of the French war
which followed their first momentary conquest.
§ 1. _The Beginnings of the French War._
1097-1098.
[Sidenote: King Philip;]
[Sidenote: his adulterous marriage with Bertrada of Montfort.]
[Sidenote: He puts away his first wife.]
[Sidenote: Philip and Bertrada;]
[Sidenote: their alleged marriage by Odo. 1092.]
Of Philip King of the French, the fourth king of the house of Paris,
we have often heard already, and from what we have heard we shall
hardly expect him to take any leading part either in war or in
council. He is chiefly memorable for his adulterous marriage with
Bertrada of Montfort, the wife of Fulk Rechin of Anjou. He had got rid
of his first wife, the daughter of Count Florence of Friesland and
step-daughter of that Count Robert of Flanders who bore the Frisian
name. The mother of his son Lewis and his daughter Constance was put
away by Philip on some plea of kindred, and was shut up in the castle
of Montreuil.[435] Some years later Bertrada became her successor. Of
her and Fulk we shall hear again in our Cenomannian story; she was in
some sort given to Fulk as the price of Cenomannian bondage. But, as
Fulk had at least one wife living, the validity of the marriage might
have been fairly called in question. If the scandal of the time may be
trusted, Bertrada, wearying of Fulk, and fearing that he might deal by
her as he had dealt by others, offered herself to King Philip to
supply the place which he had made vacant.[436] She won his heart, so
far as he had any, and she seems to have been the only thing that he
really cared for. But she who had been a countess at Angers would not
be less than queen at Paris, and a ceremony of marriage was gone
through. More than one prelate was charged with the uncanonical deed.
The version which most concerns us is that which tells how, when no
prelate in France would thus profane the sacraments of the Church, the
King looked beyond the border, and found one less scrupulous in the
person of the Bishop of Bayeux. The churches of Mantes, it is said,
were Odo’s reward for his thus pandering to the misdeeds of his royal
neighbour.[437]
[Sidenote: Scandal occasioned by the marriage.]
[Sidenote: Opposition of Ivo and Hugh of Lyons.]
[Sidenote: Excommunication of Philip and Bertrada.]
Much scandal and searching of heart followed on the pretended
marriage, scandal which spread throughout all France, throughout all
Gaul, throughout all Christendom. The famous Bishop Ivo of Chartres
protested in many letters to the King and others.[438] If a council of
the prelates of France, gathered by the King’s authority at Rheims,
was inclined to deal gently with the royal sinner, there were higher
ecclesiastical powers who were more unbending. Archbishop Hugh of
Lyons, Primate of all the Gauls, no subject of Parisian dukes or
kings, but a prince of that Imperial Burgundy which knew no king but
Cæsar, gathered an assembly which spoke in another voice. The friend
of Anselm, the friend of Urban, called together the bishops of the
Gauls at Autun, and their voice denounced the offence which the
bishops of France alone had been inclined to pass over.[439] Higher
powers still spoke at Piacenza and at Clermont. Philip and Bertrada
were excommunicated often and absolved now and then. None would eat at
their table; the dogs were said to refuse the morsels which fell from
it. Wherever they went, the public exercise of Christian worship
stopped, though, by a somewhat inconsistent indulgence, they were
allowed to have a low mass said before them in a private chapel.[440]
It would seem as though, in spiritual as well as in temporal things,
subjects were to suffer from the crimes of kings, while the kings
themselves went unscathed. But when Philip and Bertrada left any town,
the bells at once struck out. Then, with allusion no doubt to the
supposed power of the bells to chase away thunder and pestilence, the
King would say to his companion, “Do you hear, my beauty, how they
drive us away?”[441] For fifteen years, allowing perhaps for
occasional times of reconciliation, the King of the French never wore
his crown or his kingly robes or appeared in royal state at any public
ceremony.[442]
[Sidenote: Sons of Philip and Bertrada.]
[Sidenote: Bertrada’s schemes against Lewis.]
[Sidenote: Philip invests Lewis with the Vexin. 1092.]
By this second marriage or adultery, which was held to be in no way
done away by the death of the lawful Queen in prison,[443] Philip had
two sons, Philip and Florus. Bertrada wished to be the mother of a
king, and in after times the lawful heir Lewis was said to have been
the object of not a few plots on the part of his step-mother, if even
step-mother she is to be called. But at this stage Philip seems to
have kept sense enough to see the merits of his son, and to place full
trust in him. By the consent of his realm, he made Lewis the immediate
ruler and defender of the exposed frontier of the royal dominions. He
granted him in fief the towns of Mantes and Pontoise, and the whole
French Vexin.[444] But Lewis was made more than this. Practically,
whether by any formal act or not, Lewis became the ruler of France, so
far as France just then had any ruler. Philip, scorned and loathed of
all men, with the curses of the Church hurled over and over again
against him, withdrew from ruling, fighting, or anything else but his
own pleasures, and threw the whole burthen of the government and
defence of his kingdom on the shoulders of his young and gallant son.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Question of the Vexin.]
[Sidenote: Grounds of offence on the part of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: William demands the French Vexin. 1097.]
We are not told at what exact moment the old question of the Vexin was
again first stirred. Philip was not likely to stir it, neither was
Robert; William Rufus might not care to stir it while he was lord only
of part of Normandy, and not of the whole. But when all Normandy
became his, the old dispute naturally came up again in his mind. He
would not have been William Rufus if he had not sought to win all that
his father had held, all that his father had claimed, and among the
rest the place where his father found his death-wound. The special
acts of authority exercised by Philip in the Vexin, the grant of the
land as his son’s fief, the grant of the churches of Mantes, the
churches which were rebuilding out of his father’s dying gifts, to his
own rebellious uncle Odo, would be likely to stir him up still more to
put forward his old claim. At last, after reflecting, we are told, on
the wars and the fate of his father in that region, he sent, in the
year of the departure of Anselm, solemnly to demand the cession of the
whole Vexin, specially naming the towns and fortresses of Pontoise,
Chaumont, and Mantes.[445] Of these Mantes and Chaumont were in the
strictest sense border fortresses; Pontoise――the bridge on the Oise,
as its name implies――lies far nearer the heart of the King’s
territory; Pontoise in an enemy’s hand would indeed be a standing
menace to Paris. The demands of the Red King almost amounted to a
demand for the surrender of the independence of the French kingdom.
[Illustration:
Map illustrating
the
FRENCH CAMPAIGN.
A.D. 1098.
Edwᵈ. Weller
_For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press._]
[Sidenote: The demand is refused.]
[Sidenote: William crosses to Normandy. November 11-30, 1097.]
[Sidenote: Excesses of the King’s followers.]
[Sidenote: Silence of English writers as to the French war.]
It is needless to say that the demand was refused. Lewis and
his counsellors declined to give up the Vexin or any of its
fortresses.[446] King William accordingly crossed the sea to assert
his rights, and the French campaign possibly began before the end of
the year. It is wonderful, when we remember that it is chiefly from
our own writers that we get the details of William Rufus’ Norman
campaigns, how little they tell us about his French campaigns. Of the
war of Maine to which we shall presently come they tell us little
enough. Still the name of Maine does appear in their pages, while the
name of France at this stage does not. We learn indeed that in the
November of this year the King crossed into Normandy, but with what
object we are not told.[447] What we are told is eminently
characteristic of the Red King and his reign. As so often happened,
his crossing was delayed by the weather; meanwhile his immediate
followers carried out to the full that licence which the King’s
immediate followers were wont to allow themselves till Henry and
Anselm found sharp means to check them.[448] “His _hired_ in the
shires there they lay the most harm did that ever _hired_ or _here_ in
_frithland_ should do.”[449] If the army at large is meant, the
expression is a strange one. The _hired_ is the King’s household,
taking in doubtless household troops in personal attendance on the
King, like the old housecarls, but not surely the whole force,
national or mercenary. But it was the King’s household whose excesses
were specially complained of; and this casual outburst of bitterness
is a speaking comment on the general pictures of their misdoings which
we have already come across.[450] But it is only of damage done in
England by the King’s household that our Chronicler tells us anything.
Of warlike exploits on the other side of the Channel neither he nor
any other English writer tells us at this stage a single word.[451]
[Sidenote: William and Lewis.]
[Sidenote: Chief men on William’s side.]
[Sidenote: Difficulties of Lewis.]
[Sidenote: Fate of the captives on each side.]
If from the silence of our own writers we turn to our chief authority
on the French side, we shall find a vivid general picture of the war,
but hardly any account of particular events. We get indeed one of the
most striking of personal contrasts. Though the war which was now
waged by Rufus was in every sense a war waged against France, yet it
could hardly be called a war personally waged against the nominal
ruler of France. It was a war for the Vexin, waged against the lord of
the Vexin, and, in its first stages at least, mainly confined to the
Vexin. The struggle between William and Lewis, as it is set forth by
the biographer of the French prince, was an unequal one. William had
his old weapons at command――the wealth of England, the traitors whom
that wealth could bribe, the mercenaries whom that wealth could
hire.[452] He had his own experience in war; he had his veteran troops
and their veteran commanders. Next under the King, comparatively young
in years, but first of all in daring as in wickedness, was Robert of
Bellême. Then came the King’s brother Henry, and the well-known names
of Count William of Evreux, Earl Hugh of Chester, and the old Earl
Walter of Buckingham.[453] These were formidable foes for an untried
youth like Lewis; the aged warrior who was old on the day of Senlac
must have been a strange contrast indeed to the gallant lad on whom
the fortune of France now rested. Lewis had, we are told, neither men
nor money nor allies; he had to pick up all where and how he could.
Whenever, often by running to and fro as far as the borders of Berry
or Auvergne or Burgundy, he had got together three hundred, or perhaps
five hundred, knights, he met King William of England marching against
him with ten thousand.[454] Here was little room for pitched battles;
Lewis could not risk a meeting with such an enemy in the open field.
He had often to retire, sometimes openly to fly.[455] And the
different state of the hoards of the two princes showed itself in an
effect on their military operations which is characteristic of the
time. When warriors on the English side――we must use the language of
our French informant――fell into French hands, the price of their
ransom was speedily paid. When French warriors were made prisoners by
the forces of Rufus, there was no money to ransom them. They had to
languish in bonds with only one hope of deliverance. Those only were
set free who were willing to become the men of the King of England and
to bind themselves by oath to fight against their own natural
lord.[456]
[Sidenote: French traitors.]
[Sidenote: Guy of the Rock.]
[Sidenote: Norman possessions beyond the Epte.]
[Sidenote: Roche Guyon.]
[Sidenote: The castle bored in the rock.]
[Sidenote: Guy submits to Rufus.]
Some then at least of the native subjects of the French crown, who had
no conflicting engagements to plead, did not scruple, in the
extremities in which they found themselves, to take service on behalf
of the invader against their own lord. It is therefore the less
wonderful if another class of men, whose interests and whose duties
were more doubtful, deemed, when they had to choose between two lords,
that Rufus was the lord to be chosen. Others again were found of baser
mould, who simply took the money of the Red King, and for its sake
turned against their own people on behalf of strangers. Among these
one is specially marked, one who by his geographical position was
called on to be among the foremost champions of France against Norman
invasion. This was one of the lords who commanded the fortresses on
the Seine, a man whose possessions lay close to the Norman border, Guy
of the Rock, the Rock which has taken its name from him and which
still is known as _La Roche Guyon_.[457] The position of his chief
stronghold made his adhesion of no small importance. The stream of
Epte, flowing during a great part of its course through a deep valley,
seems designed by nature to part Normandy and France; but, as we have
seen, the frontier was ever disputed, and here and there the Norman
held small portions of territory on the left bank of the river. One of
these Norman holdings on the French side lies by the small village of
Gasny, where the boundary, surviving in that of the modern department,
is still marked at some distance up the opposite hill. A slight
further ascent brings the traveller in sight of one of the noblest
bends of the Seine, where the great river, with all its islands, runs
immediately below a long line of chalk hills, with their white spurs
jutting out in endless fantastic shapes. The windings of the Seine
have in fact left at this point little more than a narrow isthmus
between itself and its lowlier tributary. Just within the French
territory at this point, and commanding this important sweep of the
great French river, lay the domains of the lord of the Rock. The ridge
on which the traveller stands ends in a bluff to the south-east.
There, where the hills open for another tributary of the Seine, close
by the island of Lavancourt, stood Guy’s now vanished fortress of
Vetheuil. But, as we now gaze, by far the most prominent object in the
whole curved line of the hill, placed like the imperial seat in the
centre of an ancient amphitheatre, rising over the church, the more
modern castle, the town, and the airy bridge which modern art has
thrown across the river, soar the relics of the fortress which still
bears Guy’s name. A spur of the hill is crowned by a small keep, with
a round tower attached to a square mass within its compass. But in the
days of the Red King, the Guy’s Cliff of the Vexin, now the site of a
castle so preeminently visible, was specially known as the site of the
stronghold that was invisible. The lords of the rock had, like the
Kenite of old, literally made their nest in the rock itself. The chalk
is to this day habitually bored to make houses, churches,[458] any
kind of excavation that may be needed. In days before our time this
custom had been applied to a more dangerous use; the plundering chiefs
of the rock had scooped themselves out a castle in its side. More than
one of the chambers remain――comfortless to our eyes, but perhaps not
more comfortless than the chambers within many a tower of timber or
masonry――whence these troglodyte barons looked out to mark the craft
upon the Seine, and to exact, by a custom which lingered on till late
times, a toll from every passer by. Guy of the Rock now submitted to
the island king, and his submission supplied a new fetter to pen up
the king of the mainland within his havenless realm. At the very
entrance of the French territory on this side, Guy’s Rock, Vetheuil,
and all that is implied in the possession of Vetheuil and of the Rock,
passed from the obedience of the lord of Paris to the obedience of the
lord of Winchester and Rouen.
[Sidenote: Policy of Robert of Meulan.]
[Sidenote: He receives William’s troops.]
[Sidenote: Importance of the position of Meulan.]
[Sidenote: Description of Meulan.]
While Guy thus sold to the invader the very entrance-gate of the
French kingdom, the Red King found another ally in a far more famous
man who held a position of at least equal importance higher up the
Seine. At the head of the nobles who held lands of both kings stood
the acknowledged master of all subtle policy, Count Robert of Meulan.
We have been so long familiar with his name, whether as the youthful
warrior of Senlac or as the experienced counsellor of the Red King,
that we may have almost forgotten that the title by which we call him
is French, and that he was as great a lord in France as he was in
England or in Normandy. We find it hard to think of him as one of
those who had thus to choose between two lords, and that he might
conceiveably have chosen the cause of Philip――or rather of
Lewis――against William. We cannot fancy that he took long to decide.
He may have argued that William, lord both of Normandy and of England,
had two parts in him, while Philip of France had only one. He received
the troops of the Red King into his castles, and his adhesion was held
to have been of special help to his undertaking. He opened, we are
told, a clear path for the English into France.[459] The words sound
as if they belonged to the fourteenth, fifteenth, or sixteenth century
rather than to the last years of the eleventh. And they are clothed
with a strange significance when we remember that the man who now
opened a way into France for the combined host of Normandy and England
was the same man who, two-and-thirty years before, had opened a way
into the very heart of England for the combined host of Normandy and
France.[460] But in a geographical point of view the expression is
fully justified. In a war between the lord of Rouen and the lord of
Paris, no man’s friendship could be more valuable to either side than
the friendship of the Count of Meulan. A man weaker in fight and less
wary in council than the Achitophel of his day might, if he kept the
Seine barred as the lord of Meulan could bar it, have gone far to hold
the balance between the contending kings. As at Mantes, as at Rouen,
as at Paris itself, the islands so characteristic of the Seine are at
Meulan also brought into play for purposes of habitation and defence.
Meulan indeed is, what neither Paris nor Rouen is, at once a
hill-fortress and a river-fortress. At a point of the river lying
between Mantes, the seat of the Conqueror’s death-wound, and Poissy,
the spot where he went to crave help of his lord before the day of
Val-ès-dunes, a hill which the surrounding valleys gird as with a
natural fosse rises from the right bank of the river. A group of
islands is formed at this spot by the branches of the winding stream,
fit places for the landing of the forefathers of the Normans in their
pirate days. The spot was seized on for defence. A castle arose on the
side of the hill, with a town at its foot sloping swiftly down to the
river. There a bridge of some antiquity joins the right bank to a
central island, which is joined again to the left bank by another
bridge. The island, once strongly fortified, still keeps the
significant name of the Fort. The bridge which joins the island to the
left bank of the river, where lies the suburb known as _Les Mureaux_,
was, at least in later times, defended by a tower bearing the name of
_La Sangle_. A considerable extent of the outer walls of the castle
may be traced, and a specially diligent inquirer may thread his way to
a small fragment of the castle itself, and may there mark work of a
somewhat later date than the time with which we have to do. It is more
easy to trace out a large part of the defences of the Fort, and to
mark the churches, surviving and desecrated, one of which, high on the
hill side, also belongs, like so many others, to the age next
following. As in so many other places, so at Meulan, we cannot lay our
hand on anything which we can positively affirm to be the work of its
most famous lord. But we can well see that the strength of the spot, a
spot which in later times played no small part in the wars of the
League, was well understood in the days of our story, and that so
important a position was strengthened by all the art of the time. When
Count Robert received the forces of Normandy and England on the height
and in the island of Meulan, he did indeed open a way for those forces
into the heart of France. It was a way which might have been expected
to lead them straight to the city which then, as ever, might be deemed
to be more than the heart of France, to be France itself.
[Sidenote: William’s prospects.]
Count Robert was doubtless guided, then and always, by policy. Many of
his neighbours who found themselves in the like case followed his
lead. They could not serve two masters; so they made up their minds to
serve the master who was strongest either to reward or to punish, him
whose purse was the deeper and whose spirit was the fiercer.[461]
Altogether the odds seemed frightfully against the French side. Rufus
might indeed have small chances of carrying out his grand scheme of
uniting Paris――perhaps Poitiers and Bourdeaux――under the same lord as
Winchester and Rouen; but things at least looked as if the conquest of
the disputed lands was about to advance the Norman frontier most
dangerously near to the French capital. Above all, when the Seine was
barred both at Roche Guyon and at Meulan, we ask how things stood in
the border town which lay between them, the town which was one of the
special subjects of William’s demands on Philip. How fared it at
Mantes when the stream both above and below was in the hands of the
enemy? To this question we get no answer; but we see that, in any
case, the King of the French was more closely shut up than ever in the
central prison-house of his nominal realm.
[Sidenote: Failure of William’s plans.]
[Sidenote: Pontoise and Chaumont not taken.]
[Sidenote: Castle of Chaumont.]
But, small as seemed young Lewis’s means of defence, weakened as he
further was by treason among his own or his father’s vassals, the
resistance made by the French to the Norman or English invasion was
valiant, stubborn, and, we may add, successful. William Rufus was much
further from conquering France than Henry the Fifth, or even than
Edward the Third, was in after times. With all his wealth, all his
forces, he could not conquer the land; he could not even take the
fortresses to which he specially laid claim. He could not conquer the
Vexin; he could not take either Pontoise or Chaumont. While we hear
nothing of Mantes, we know that both these two last-named fortresses
successfully withstood his attacks. Of the three fortresses which were
the special objects of the war, one, that of Chaumont, became in some
sort its centre. The Chaumont with which we have to deal is
still distinguished from other places of the same name as
Chaumont-_en-Vexin_. It stands about five miles east of the Epte, at
the point where the frontier stream of Rolf is joined by the smaller
stream of the Troesne, and makes a marked turn in its course from
nearly due south to south-west. The region is a hilly one, though it
contains no heights of any remarkable elevation. The Bald Mount
itself, which――unluckily for the inquirer――is bald no longer, is a
wide-spreading hill crowned with a mound which stands out prominently
to the eye on every side. The line of the wall which it supported may
still be easily traced, and in a few places it is actually standing.
On the steep north-eastern side of the hill the small town of Chaumont
nestles at its foot, while the stately church of the later days of
French architecture soars above the town as the castle again soars
above the church. Of the part played in the war by this stronghold we
shall hear a little later.
[Sidenote: The castle of Gisors.]
[Sidenote: Its first defences. 1096.]
[Sidenote: Strengthened by Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: Gisors under Henry the Second.]
[Sidenote: Present appearance of Gisors.]
The height of Chaumont commands a vast prospect on all sides; the eye
stretches far away over the friendly land to the south, towards the
hills bordering on the Seine; but the special rival of Chaumont, the
fortress at the junction of the Epte and Troesne, is shut out from
sight by a near range of hills which follow the line of the smaller
stream. Where the two rivers join, the Epte, like the greater Seine,
divides to form a group of islands at the foot of a low hill on the
right, the Norman, bank. Here stands the town and fortress of Gisors,
the chief bulwark of Normandy towards the north-eastern corner of the
Vexin. Once a dependency of the neighbouring Neauflé, whose mound and
square tower form a prominent object in the landscape, Gisors had now
become a stronghold indeed. It had been first fenced in about two
years before by Pagan of Gisors, a man of whom we shall hear in the
course of the war.[462] Somewhat later William gave orders that the
border post should be made into a fortress of the greatest possible
strength, and he committed the work to the most skilful engineer at
his command. All the craft and subtlety of the Devil of Bellême were
employed to make Gisors a stronghold which might shelter the eastern
frontier of Normandy against all enemies. As far as one can see, the
islands in the Epte and the hill which rises above them near to the
right bank of the main river were united in one common plan of
defence. The town itself, taking in the islands, was walled, either
now or at a later time, and defended with a ditch throughout those
parts of its circuit which were neither sheltered by the river nor by
the castle hill. In the great defences of this last we see the fruit
of the engineering skill of Robert of Bellême, and we better learn
what in those days was deemed a specially strong fortress. On all
sides save that where town and castle join, the hill is girded by a
deep ditch, and on the north, the side which lies away from both town
and river, the ditch is doubled, and the chief entrance on this side
is defended by an outpost between the two. The ditch fences in a vast
walled space, in the middle of which art has improved nature by piling
up a vast artificial mound crowned by a shell keep. The earthworks are
most likely older than either Robert of Bellême or Pagan of Gisors.
The outer wall and the shell keep may well be part of Robert’s design,
if they are not actually his work; but the towers which now rise so
proudly over Gisors, not only the round tower, precious in local
legend, but the vast octagon on one side of the keep which bears the
name of the martyr of Canterbury, must all be of later date than our
time. A graceful chapel within the keep, where the visitor is told
with special emphasis that Saint Thomas once said mass, has thus much
to show in favour of the legend that it is clearly a work of Henry the
Second’s days. His days were stirring days at Gisors as well as the
days of Rufus, and a hundred years of sieges had brought new
improvements into the art of fortification. All in short that strikes
the eye as the traveller draws near to Gisors, the castle towers, no
less than the strange and striking outline of one of the stateliest of
those churches which boasted no bishop or abbot at their head, belongs
to later days than those of the Red King’s campaign of Chaumont. Of
the defences of the town below little can now be traced, and that part
of the defences of the castle on which the historian looks with the
deepest interest is carefully hidden from distant view. The tower of
Saint Thomas and its lower fellow both seem to rise from the midst of
a wood――a wood artificially planted, seemingly for the express purpose
of robbing Gisors of its characteristic feature, of shutting out from
sight the mighty _motte_ and keep which Robert of Bellême made ready
at the Red King’s bidding to be the strongest bulwark of the Norman
land.
[Sidenote: Castle of Trye.]
[Sidenote: Primæval and later antiquities.]
Near as Gisors stands to Chaumont, another fortress barred the way
between them. The road between the two towns passes through
Trye――distinguished from its neighbour Trye-_la-Ville_ as
Trye-_Château_――which appears in our story along with Chaumont as one
of the French fortresses which Gisors was specially meant to keep in
check. Yet Trye must have been itself specially meant as an outpost
against Gisors. Close by Gisors is one of the points where the Norman
frontier overlaps the Epte; so that Trye, lying between two and three
miles from Gisors, is yet nearer than Gisors to the actual frontier.
Trye does not lie, like Chaumont, hidden behind the hills; it stands
boldly in the teeth of the enemy, clearly seen from the hill of
Gisors, and barring the main road between Gisors and Chaumont, a road
which led over level ground and neither over hill nor swamp. Otherwise
the site has not, like Gisors and Chaumont, any marked advantages of
ground, nor, at present at least, are any earthworks visible. In our
time, though a gate and a tower of later date than our story recall
the days of the military importance of Trye, the attractions of the
spot are chiefly of other kinds. Between Trye and Chaumont a cromlech,
known as the Three Stones, calls up the thought of days and men which
were as mysterious in the time of Rufus as they are now. More than one
fragment of mediæval architecture may be lighted on by the way, and
Trye itself stands conspicuous for the singular and beautiful
Romanesque work――again too late for our immediate time――to be found
both in its ecclesiastical and its secular buildings.
[Sidenote: Castle of Boury.]
[Sidenote: National feeling in the French Vexin.]
[Sidenote: Prisoners on both sides.]
[Sidenote: Gilbert of Laigle.]
[Sidenote: Simon of Montfort.]
Chaumont and Trye may practically be looked on as one piece of
defence. A third fortress, that of Boury,[463] lay further apart to
the south-west, hidden from Gisors, like Chaumont, by another line of
hills. All three castles seem to have remained unsubdued through the
whole war. The valour of the French resistance is dwelled on with
pleasure by our Norman or English guide. Did the monk of Saint Evroul,
the young scholar of the Severn side, remember that, after all, his
father belonged neither to the land of his birth nor to the land of
his adoption, but was in truth a Frenchman from Orleans?[464] The
French Vexin was inhabited by a valiant race, in whom, if we are not
pressing too far the words of our story, a distinct feeling of French
nationality was strong. They were ready to run all risks――it is not
said for their King, but for the defence of their country, for the
glory of their nation, for the honour of the French name.[465] Valiant
men, mercenaries it would seem――but who was to pay them?――from all
parts of Gaul, or at least of France, pressed to their help, and a
brave and successful defence was made. Prisoners on both sides
underwent the two different fates which were already spoken of. The
name on the Norman side which is best known to us is that of the
fierce Gilbert of Laigle; with him we hear of the former lord and
fortifier of Gisors.[466] Among the captives on the French side the
national historian records one who bore a far loftier name, but one
which at that moment was hardly a name of honour. Two of the long line
of Simons of the French Montfort are heard of in the course of our
story, father and son, father and brother of her who in our
authorities appears commonly as the woman from Anjou, but who on the
Strong Mount of her fathers may have been deemed a Queen of the
French. One Simon is now spoken of as a prisoner; both are found
somewhat later fighting stoutly in the cause of France. We have heard
that the Red King let none free who would not undertake to fight on
his side. Are we to infer that a forefather of our own deliverer had
learned the lesson of Harold, that an extorted oath is of no strength?
§ 2. _The First War of Maine._
1098.
[Sidenote: Dates of the French war. November, 1097――September, 1098.]
[Sidenote: War of Maine. January――August, 1098.]
[Sidenote: History of Maine. 1089-1098.]
These events on the French side, of which thus far we have but a vague
account, would seem to have happened during the first half of the year
with which we are dealing. But all that we can say for certain is that
they happened between the November of one year and the September of
the next. Of the struggle which was going on at the same time in
Maine, the dates are far more clear. It began in January and it was
deemed to be over in August. But its immediate occasion arose the year
before, and its general causes go much further back. Fully to
understand the war of William and Helias, more truly the war of Helias
and Robert of Bellême, we must trace out the events of several years.
While we have been following the fates of England, Normandy, Scotland,
and Wales, much of high interest has been going on in Maine which had
no connexion with the affairs of any part of Britain, and which had
but little influence on Norman affairs either. But now that England
and Normandy have again a common ruler, the affairs of England, or at
least the affairs of her King, have again a close connexion with the
affairs of Maine. We have now therefore to take up the tale of that
noble city and county from the days when we had to tell of Duke
Robert’s campaign before Ballon and Saint Cenery.[467]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert suspects the loyalty of Maine. 1089.]
[Sidenote: He asks help of Fulk of Anjou.]
[Sidenote: Fulk asks for Bertrada of Montfort.]
[Sidenote: Bertrada brought up by Heloise.]
[Sidenote: William of Evreux’s bargain about his niece.]
The submission of Maine to the Norman Duke which then took place
lasted only till the next favourable opportunity for asserting the old
independence of the city and county. No great time after he had taken
possession, Robert began to suspect the loyalty of his Cenomannian
subjects. A strange story follows, which connects itself in a way yet
stranger with the tale of the royal household of France which we have
lately been telling. Robert, it seems, was sick at the moment when he,
or some one else for him, thought it needful to take action against
impending revolt in Maine. He sent messengers and gifts to Count Fulk
of Anjou, the famous _Rechin_, praying him to come to him.[468] Fulk,
it will be remembered, claimed the over-lordship of Maine, and Robert
himself had, long before, at the peace of Blanchelande, done a formal
homage to Fulk for the county.[469] The Angevin Count was supposed to
have influence with the people of Maine, influence which might be
enough to hinder them from revolting. That influence Robert now prayed
Fulk to use. The Angevin agreed on one condition, namely that the
Norman would use his own influence in quite another quarter, for quite
another purpose. Fulk wanted a wife. As the story is told us, he is
said to have had two living wives already; but that seems not to have
been the case.[470] His first wife, the daughter of a lord of
Beaugency, died, leaving a daughter. He then married Ermengarde of
Bourbon――a description not to become royal for some ages――the mother
of his son Geoffrey Martel. Her he put away on the usual plea of
kindred, and now it was that he appeared as the wooer of that Bertrada
of whom we have already spoken of in her later character. The daughter
of Simon of Montfort was the niece of Count William of Evreux, through
her mother Agnes, Count William’s sister. Her mother would seem to
have been dead, and she was brought up in her uncle’s house, under the
schooling of Countess Heloise.[471] The Count of Anjou, no longer
young, driven to strange devices as to his shoes,[472] and burthened
with a former wife whose divorce might be called in question, felt
that he was hardly likely to win favour as a lover in the eyes either
of Bertrada herself or of her guardians. But the _Rechin_ was skilful
at a bargain. He would engage to keep Maine in the Duke’s obedience,
if the Duke would get him the damsel of Montfort to wife.[473] Robert
set off for Evreux in person, and pleaded Fulk’s cause with Count
William. The Count of Evreux was duly shocked, and set forth the
obvious objections to the marriage. But he too was open to a bargain;
he would get over his scruples if the Duke would restore to him
certain lordships to which he asserted a right, and would grant
certain others to his nephew William of Breteuil. These lands had been
the possession of his uncle Ralph of Wacey, guardian of the Great
William in his early days, who it seems was sportively known as Ralph
with the Ass’s Head.[474] Let the Duke give him and his nephew back
their own, and Bertrada should be, as far as the Count of Evreux was
concerned, Countess of Anjou.
[Sidenote: Robert consents.]
[Sidenote: His counsellors.]
[Sidenote: Fulk marries Bertrada.]
[Sidenote: Maine kept quiet for a year.]
The Duke did not venture to answer without the advice of his
counsellors. But the combined wisdom of Robert of Bellême, lately a
rebel but now again in favour,[475] of the Ætheling Eadgar, and of
that monastic William of Arques of whom we have already heard,[476]
advised the acceptance of Count William’s terms. The whole county of
Maine was of more value than the lordships which the Count of Evreux
demanded as the price of his niece.[477] The power and the will of
Fulk to do what he promised about Le Mans and Maine seems not to have
been doubted. The double bargain was struck, and it was carried out
for a season. Count William and his nephew got all that they asked,
except that one lordship passed to Gerard of Gournay. Fulk too got
what he asked, namely Bertrada, till such time as King Philip took her
away. She had time to quarrel with her stepson Geoffrey, and to become
the mother of Fulk, afterwards Count of Anjou and King of Jerusalem,
and grandfather of the first Angevin King of England. And Count Fulk
was able, by whatever means, to keep the Cenomannian city and county
in a formal allegiance to the Norman Duke, till such time as the
temptations to revolt became too strong to be withstood.
[Sidenote: Movements in Maine.]
[Sidenote: Hugh son of Azo sent for. 1090.]
[Sidenote: Union of Geoffrey and Helias.]
Our story however seems to imply that the submission of Maine to
Robert was wholly on the surface, and that all this while schemes were
going on for shaking off the hated Norman yoke. The present movement
took the same form which had been taken by the movement in the
Conqueror’s day.[478] The avowed object of Cenomannian patriotism was
now, as then, the restoration of the ancient dynasty. The valour and
energy of the citizens of Le Mans are constantly spoken of; but we
hear nothing this time of the _commune_. The rule of some prince seems
to be assumed on all hands, and for a while all seem to have agreed in
seeking that prince in the same quarter in which they had sought a
prince already. Little indeed of good for Le Mans or Maine had come of
the former application to Azo and Gersendis; but their son Hugh had
now reached greater years and experience, and the men of Maine again
sent into Italy to ask for him to reign over them.[479] The
application was supported both by Geoffrey of Mayenne, of whom we have
so often heard during the last thirty years, and by Helias of La
Flèche, who might well have asserted his own claims against those of
the distant house of Este.[480]
[Sidenote: Helias of La Flèche.]
[Sidenote: His character]
[Sidenote: and descent.]
[Sidenote: His castles.]
[Sidenote: His possible claim on the county.]
[Sidenote: He accepts the succession of Hugh.]
Helias now becomes the hero of the Cenomannian tale. He is one of the
men of his time of whom we can get the clearest idea. We see him alike
in his recorded acts and in his elaborately drawn portrait; and by the
light of the two we can hail in him the very noblest type of the age
and class to which he belonged. We see in him a no less worthy
defender of the freedom of Maine than Harold was of the freedom of
England. He stands before us with his tall stature, his strong, thin,
and well-proportioned frame, his swarthy complexion, his thick hair
cropped close after Norman or priestly fashion.[481] Brave and skilful
in war, wise and just in his rule in peace, ready and pleasant in
speech, gentle to the good and stern to the evil, faithful to his
word, and corrupted neither by good nor evil fortune, a man withal of
prayer and fasting, the bountiful friend of the Church and the poor,
Helias stands forth within the narrow range of a single county of Gaul
as one who, on a wider field, might have won for himself a place among
the foremost of mankind.[482] With the house of the old Counts of
Maine he had a twofold connexion. The male line of Herbert Wake-dog
had come to an end; but in the female line Helias came of it in two
descents, while Hugh came in one only. Not only was his mother Paula
one of the sisters of the younger Herbert, but his father John of La
Flèche was son of a daughter of Wake-dog himself.[483] To his father’s
Angevin fief of La Flèche, among the islands of the Loir, his marriage
with Matilda, a grand-niece of Archbishop Gervase of Rheims, known to
us better as Bishop of Le Mans,[484] had added a string of castles in
the south of Maine. Two of these, Mayet and the one which is specially
called the Castle of the Loir, fill a prominent place in our
story.[485] Helias was plainly the greatest lord of eastern Maine, the
modern department of Sarthe, as Geoffrey of Mayenne was the greatest
in western Maine, the modern department which still bears the name of
his own fortress.[486] One might have thought that the position of
Helias as a great local chief might, when the elders of Maine were
called on to choose a prince, have outweighed any slight genealogical
precedence on the part of the stranger Hugh. But the great men of the
county may not have been disposed to place one of themselves over
their own heads. Anyhow Helias, like his father before him,[487]
waived his own claim to the succession. Along with the lord of Mayenne
and the great mass of the people of the city and county, he welcomed
the Ligurian prince――such is the geography of our chief guide――when he
came to take possession of the dominion to which the voice of the
Cenomannian people had called him a second time.[488]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Negotiations with Hugh.]
[Sidenote: Revolt of Maine. 1090.]
[Sidenote: Invitation to Hugh.]
We are to suppose that the negotiations with the house of Este were
going on during the year when Count Fulk contrived to keep Maine
outwardly quiet. But when the quarrel between William and Robert broke
out, when Normandy was divided and dismembered, the Angevin
over-lord’s influence gave way. The time for action was clearly come.
Le Mans and all Maine now openly rose against the Norman dominion.
Duke Robert’s garrisons were driven out;[489] the Cenomannian land was
again free. But the first act of restored freedom was to invite Hugh
of Este, descendant of the ancient counts, to come at once to take
possession, and to rule in the palace on the Roman wall which fences
in the Cenomannian hill.
[Sidenote: Opposition of Bishop Howel.]
[Sidenote: Howel imprisoned by Helias.]
[Sidenote: Interdict of Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: Liberation of Howel on Hugh’s coming.]
The chief opponent of the movement for independence was, as before,
the Bishop. The throne of Saint Julian was still filled by the Breton
Howel, the nominee of the Conqueror, and he stood firm in his loyalty
to his patron’s eldest son.[490] He withstood the revolt by every
means in his power, and scattered interdicts and anathemas against the
supporters of the newly-elected Count.[491] Hugh had not yet come, and
the opposition of the Bishop was felt to be dangerous. Helias
therefore, whose piety did not lead him to any superstitious reverence
for ecclesiastical privileges, dealt with Howel as an enemy, or at
least as one whom it was well to keep out of the way for a season. As
the Bishop was going through his diocese with a train of clergy, in
the discharge of some episcopal duty, Helias seized him, carried him
off, and put him in ward at La Flèche.[492] The great grievance seems
to have been that Howel was denied the company of his attendant
clergy, and was allowed the services only of one unlettered rustic
priest. The fear was lest the Bishop and his more learned companions
would, in their Latin talk, plot something which their keepers would
not understand.[493] This very complaint shows that the Bishop’s
imprisonment was not of a very harsh kind. But the cause of the
captive prelate was zealously taken up by his clergy. Le Mans and its
suburbs were put under a practical interdict; divine worship ceased;
the bells were silent; the doors of the churches were stopped up with
thorns.[494] Great, it is said, was the joy when the Bishop was set
free and came back to his city. We are told by a writer in the
episcopal interest that Helias set him free in a fit of penitence, in
answer to many intercessions from nobles, clergy, and neighbouring
bishops. Howel was gracious and forgiving, and let his wrongs be
forgotten on the restoration of whatever had been taken from him.[495]
All this is possible; but the more definite statement that Howel was
kept in ward till Hugh came shows that his captivity was a matter of
policy, and that he was set free as soon as it seemed that no object
could be gained by prolonging it.
[Sidenote: Hugh reaches Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: Howel flees to Robert.]
[Sidenote: Robert’s carelessness as to his loss.]
[Sidenote: He cleaves to his rights over the bishopric.]
[Sidenote: Dispute between Hugh and Howel.]
[Sidenote: Howel refuses to acknowledge Hugh as _advocatus_.]
[Sidenote: Howel and his Chapter.]
[Sidenote: Disputes about the deanery.]
[Sidenote: Howel comes to England.]
[Sidenote: Return of Howel. June 28, 1090.]
Meanwhile Hugh was on the road. At the border fortress of La Chartre
he was met by the magistrates of Le Mans――the city seems, as often in
Cenomannian history, to act for the whole county――who swore oaths to
him, counting, it is added, their former oaths to Duke Robert for
nought.[496] The Bishop, determined not to acknowledge the revolution,
fled to the court of the prince whom he did acknowledge. But he found
little help there. The idle and luxurious Robert seemed not to care,
he seemed almost to rejoice, that so noble a part of his dominions had
fallen away from him.[497] One thing only he would not give up; he
would at all hazards cleave to his rights over the Cenomannian
bishopric. Robert bade Howel to go back to Le Mans, but to do nothing
which could be taken as an admission of Hugh as temporal lord of the
bishopric.[498] Howel went home, and found the new Count, for whatever
reason, quartered in the episcopal palace. He had himself to live in
the abbey of Saint Vincent, just outside the city. A long dispute
followed between the Breton Bishop and the Italian Count, and then
came a still fiercer dispute between the Bishop and a party in his own
Chapter. One or two points are of constitutional interest, and remind
us of questions which we have just before heard of in our own land.
The Count called on Howel to acknowledge himself as his feudal
superior for the temporalities of the bishopric.[499] He refused and
left the city, on which Hugh seized the temporalities of the
bishopric. Worse even than the Count were the Bishop’s clerical
enemies, one Hilgot at their head. By a cruel subtlety they had
persuaded him to appoint as Dean a mere boy from his own land,
Geoffrey by name, of the age of twelve years only――so it is said. Now
they turned about, found fault with the appointment, and set up an
anti-dean of their own.[500] The Bishop crossed over to England for
help, and, strange to say, he found a friend in the King.[501] But
meanwhile all kinds of wrongs were done to his people, even to
branding an innocent boy in the face.[502] At last a reconciliation
between the Count and the Bishop was brought about, partly because of
the turn taken by public feeling. Saint Julian’s, in the absence of
its chief pastor, was forsaken, while crowds flocked to keep the
feasts of the Church at the Bishop’s monastic retreat. This was at the
priory of Solêmes, near Sablé, lying south-west of the city, towards
the Angevin border.[503] At last the prelate came back amidst
universal joy, and the Count made good all wrongs and losses that he
had undergone.[504]
[Sidenote: Unpopularity of Hugh.]
[Sidenote: February, 1091.]
[Sidenote: Danger of Maine.]
[Sidenote: Helias buys the county.]
But happier days were to come for the Bishop and the people of Maine.
It was not only to Howel and his clergy that the Italian Count had
made himself hateful. He had none of the qualities which were needed
in the ruler of a high-spirited people in a time of danger. Idle,
timid, weak of purpose, he had no power among the men over whom he was
set; and he had not, as seems to have been hoped for, brought with him
any store of money from the south.[505] His wife, a daughter of Robert
Wiscard, a woman of a lofty spirit, was too much for him. He put her
away, and was excommunicated by Pope Urban for so doing.[506] Despised
of all men, he was thinking of flight.[507] It was now moreover the
moment when the Norman power had again become specially dangerous to
Maine. The sons of the great William, lately at variance, were now
reconciled, and the subjugation of Maine was one of the terms of their
agreement.[508] Helias saw his opportunity. He set forth the dangers
of the land to his cousin. Hugh said that he wished to sell his county
and be off.[509] Helias argued that, in that case, he ought to sell it
to no one but himself. He set forth his right by birth; he said that
it was no easy place that he was seeking. But his just rights and a
love for the freedom of the land called him to it, and he trusted that
God would help him in his post of danger.[510] A bargain was soon
struck. For a sum of ten thousand Cenomannian shillings Hugh agreed to
abdicate in favour of his cousin. The coronet of Maine passed from the
son of Gersendis to the son of Paula. Hugh went back into Italy with
his money, and Helias was received without opposition as Count of
Maine.[511]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: First reign of Helias. 1091-1098.]
[Sidenote: His strong and just rule.]
[Sidenote: His friendship for Howel.]
[Sidenote: Peace of the land.]
[Sidenote: 1096.]
The reign of Helias over Le Mans and Maine lasted for about twenty
years, with a break of three years of warfare of which we shall
presently have to speak. First came a time of seven or eight years,
during which the Cenomannian people might indeed be objects of envy to
the people either of Normandy or of England. The new prince, by every
account of his actions, showed himself the model of a ruler of those
times. He did justice and made peace; as far as a prince of those days
could do so, he sheltered the weak from the oppressions of the
strong.[512] His personal piety was not lessened, nor was his devotion
to the Church less zealous, now that the ecclesiastical power was no
longer a political enemy. Strong in the friendship of his late gaoler,
Bishop Howel could rule his diocese in peace, and could carry on his
works of building, both in the city itself and in his neighbouring
lordship of Coulaines.[513] And these happy years were years of peace
without as well as within. The rule of Helias was undisputed; Maine
saw neither revolt within her own borders nor invasion from any power
beyond them. Whatever designs either Robert or William may have
cherished against the independence of Maine, those designs did not for
the present take the shape of any overt act. Robert seems to have done
absolutely nothing; the first signs of impending evil showed
themselves soon after William’s acquisition of Normandy; but there was
no open warfare for two years longer.
[Sidenote: Translation of Saint Julian. October 17, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Visit of Pope Urban to Le Mans. November or December, 1095.]
[Sidenote: Sickness of Howel. 1095-1097.]
In these times of exceptional quiet there is little to record beyond
ecclesiastical ceremonies. It was a bright day at Le Mans when Bishop
Howel was able to translate the body of the venerated patron of the
city to the place of honour in his new building.[514] That was the
time when Anselm, already enthroned, was waiting for consecration, and
when Malcolm had turned away from Gloucester to plan his last invasion
of Northumberland.[515] In these years too Howel must have finished
the two stately towers of Saint Julian’s minster, of which we shall
before long have a tale to tell. But Le Mans presently saw a greater
day than all, as it seemed at least in the eyes of the biographer of
her bishops. After the days of Piacenza and Clermont, Pope Urban
honoured the Cenomannian city with his presence. For three days the
sovereign Pontiff was the guest of Howel, and we are told that, though
it was a year of scarceness, yet the Bishop of Le Mans was able to
entertain the Pope and his following right bountifully.[516] Howel, it
is said, appeared among his fellow-bishops conspicuous for the gifts
of both mind and body. Men rejoiced with him on the happiness of
receiving such a guest, and deemed from his health and vigour that he
might long enjoy his honours.[517] Before long he fell sick, and his
sickness was unto death, although his end did not come till nearly two
years after the preaching at Clermont. The visit of Urban, the death
of Howel, led to important events in the history of Maine.
[Sidenote: Helias takes the cross. 1095-1096.]
[Sidenote: Estimate of his action.]
[Sidenote: Sigurd and Eystein.]
[Sidenote: Argument in favour of the Crusade.]
The preaching of the crusade, above all the presence, and doubtless
the preaching, of the crusading Pope in his own city, stirred up the
same impulse in the heart of Helias which was stirred up in the hearts
of so many other men of his day. Young and strong, devout and valiant,
he would go and fight to win back the sepulchre of his Lord from the
misbelievers and to deliver his Christian brethren in other lands from
their cruel bondage. By the counsel of the Pope, the Count of Maine
took the cross, and made ready to go on the armed pilgrimage along
with his neighbours, with Robert of Normandy and Stephen of
Chartres.[518] Our feeling perhaps is that Helias, like Saint Lewis,
had a stronger call to stay at home than to go on the crusade. A
certain part of mankind, a small part certainly, but that part among
which his immediate duty lay, was peaceful and happy under his rule as
they were not likely to be under the rule of any other. Could it be
right, we might argue, for him to leave a work which none could do but
himself, a work which he had taken on his shoulders of his own free
will, for another work, however noble, which others could do as well
as himself? Let Robert go and win honour abroad instead of dishonour
at home. Normandy was in such a case that the coming even of Rufus was
a happy change. Let Stephen of Chartres go; he left his royal-hearted
Adela behind him. Let King Philip go, if he could go; his son Lewis
would rule his realm far better than he. But let Helias stay, and keep
for his land and city that well-being which he had given and which
another might take away. An argument nearly the same as this was
actually pressed on the crusading Sigurd by his stay-at-home brother
Eystein. While Sigurd was warring far away, Eystein had done a great
deal of good to his own people in Norway.[519] But there are moments
in the world’s history, moments when all has to be sacrificed to a
great cause, when arguments like these, so sound against ordinary
warfare, sound above all against the utterly purposeless warfare of
those days, cannot be listened to. If Western Christendom was to arm
for a crusade, it was well that that crusade should be headed by the
noblest men in Western Christendom. The work would not be done, if it
were only left to lower souls. If Godfrey was to march, it was fit
that Helias should march beside him. Godfrey went; Helias did not go.
He had now a neighbour who made it vain for him to think of leaving
his own land in jeopardy, even to carry out his promise to Pope Urban
and to go on the holy war.
[Sidenote: William in Normandy. August (?), 1096.]
[Sidenote: Danger to Maine.]
[Sidenote: Importance of Norman neutrality.]
[Sidenote: Helias and Robert.]
[Sidenote: Helias and William.]
[Sidenote: He professes himself William’s vassal.]
[Sidenote: Answer of Rufus; he demands the cession of Maine.]
[Sidenote: Challenge of Helias.]
[Sidenote: Rufus lets Helias go with a defiance.]
The bargain between William and Robert had just been struck. The two
brothers were together at Rouen. Robert was about to set out for
Jerusalem; William had come to take possession of Normandy. It would
have been the height of rashness for Helias to join in the enterprise
of Robert, unless he could make his county safe during his absence
against any aggression on the part of William. According to Norman
doctrines, Maine was simply a rebellious province. Robert had done
nothing to stop the rebellion, but he had never acknowledged either
Hugh or Helias as lawful Prince of the Cenomannians. Where Robert had
done nothing, William would be likely to act with vigour. The claims
which Robert had simply not acknowledged William might be inclined to
dispute with the sword. It was therefore of the utmost moment for the
Count of Maine to secure the friendship, or at least the neutrality,
of the new ruler of Normandy. Helias doubtless knew that, if William
bound himself by his knightly promise, that promise would be
faithfully kept, and he perhaps hoped that towards one who was bound
on a holy errand, an errand during which he would be harmless and
powerless as far as Maine and Normandy were concerned, the chivalrous
king might be disposed to pledge such a promise. He therefore went to
Rouen, and sought interviews with both brothers. He first took counsel
with the Duke.[520] Robert, we know, could give counsel to
others,[521] and he had no temptation at this moment to give
unfriendly counsel to Helias. By his advice, the Count of Maine went
to the King; he addressed him reverently, and, if his words be rightly
reported, acknowledged himself his vassal. So to do was no
degradation, and the acknowledgement might turn the King’s heart
towards him. He set forth his purpose of going to the crusade; he said
that he wished to go as the King’s friend and in his peace.[522] Then
Rufus burst forth in a characteristic strain. Helias may go whither he
thinks good; but let him give up the city and county of Maine;
whatever his father held it was William’s will to hold also.[523]
Helias answers that he holds his county by lawful inheritance from his
forefathers, and that he hopes by God’s help to hand it on to his
children. But if the King has a mind to try the question in a peaceful
pleading, he is ready to maintain his right before kings, counts, and
bishops, and to abide by their judgement.[524] Rufus tells him that he
will plead against him with swords and spears and countless
arrows.[525] Then Helias spoke his solemn challenge. He had wished to
fight against the heathen in the name of the Lord, but he had found
the enemies of Christ nearer to his own doors. The county which he
held was his by the gift of God;[526] he would not lightly give it up,
nor leave his people to the wolves as sheep without a shepherd. Let
the King and all his nobles hear. He bore the cross of a pilgrim; that
cross he would not lay aside; he would bear it on his shield, on his
helmet, on the saddle and bridle of his horse. Under the protection of
that sign he would go forth to defend himself against all who might
attack him, that all might know that those who were fighting against
him were fighting against a warrior of the cross. He trusted in Him
who ruled the world and who knew the secrets of his heart, that a day
would come when he would be able to discharge his vow according to the
letter.[527] The Red King bade him go whither he would and do what he
would; he had no mind to fight against crusaders, but he would have
the city which his father had once won.[528] Let Helias get together
workmen to repair his broken walls.[529] He would presently visit the
citizens of Le Mans, and would show himself before their gates with a
hundred thousand pennoned lances.[530] He would send cars drawn by
oxen, and laden with arrows and javelins. But before the oxen could
reach Le Mans, he would be there with many legions of armed men.[531]
[Sidenote: Helias makes ready for defence.]
[Sidenote: William delays his attack. 1096-1097.]
Such was the threatening message which Helias was bidden to receive as
the most certain truth and to go back and tell his accomplices――that
is, we may understand, his faithful subjects. He went back to his
capital, and began to put his dominions into a state fit to withstand
an attack. But as yet no attack came; for a year or more neither king
nor legions nor oxen were seen before the gates of Le Mans. William
was busy with many matters, with the dispute with Anselm, with
the Welsh war, with the affairs of Scotland. We are told,
characteristically enough, that in the midst of all these affairs he
forgot Maine altogether. Helias meanwhile remained in actual
possession of the county, not attacked or disturbed by Rufus, but in
no way acknowledged by him, with the King’s threats hanging over him,
and knowing that an attack might come at any moment. At last this
armed neutrality came to an end. An event happened which called the
King’s mind back to Cenomannian affairs in a manner specially
characteristic of Cenomannian history.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Affairs of the bishopric.]
[Sidenote: Death of Howel July 29, 1097.]
[Sidenote: Helias nominates Geoffrey.]
[Sidenote: The canons choose Hildebert.]
[Sidenote: Helias accepts the election.]
[Sidenote: Geoffrey Archbishop of Rouen. 1111.]
[Sidenote: Hildebert Bishop of Le Mans. 1097-1126.]
[Sidenote: Archbishop of Tours. 1126-1134.]
Again, as so often in our story, the bishopric of Le Mans becomes the
centre of the drama and the subject of dispute among the princes of
the world. In the middle of the summer, shortly before the council of
Winchester, Bishop Howel died, seemingly of the same sickness which
had come upon him soon after the visit of Pope Urban. Helias, like
Hugh, deemed himself, as the reigning Count, to be the temporal lord
of the bishopric, and he at once nominated to the vacant see. His
choice was the Dean of Saint Julian’s, that same Geoffrey who had been
placed by Howel in the deanery in his childhood, and who, if the dates
be right, must still have been wonderfully young for a bishop.[532]
But the canons of Saint Julian’s stood upon their right of free
election, and chose a man of greater name, their Chancellor and
Archdeacon, the famous Hildebert.[533] They placed him at once,
seemingly against his own will, on the episcopal throne.[534] At first
Helias was wroth, and was minded to set aside this direct slight to
his authority. But the rights of the Chapter were set before him, and,
unlike our own Confessor under less provocation, he yielded, and
accepted the election.[535] The Dean, deeming himself sure of the
bishopric, had made ready a great feast; but his dainties were spread
and eaten to no purpose.[536] His time of promotion was only deferred.
Fourteen years later, Geoffrey succeeded William the Good Soul in the
archbishopric of Rouen. So his now more successful competitor was not
fated always to remain in the second rank of prelacy. One of the great
scholars of his day, renowned for his writings both in prose and
verse, a diligent writer of letters and thereby one of the authorities
for our history, a builder, a reformer, an enemy of heresy who could
yet deal gently with the heretic,[537] a model in short, we are told,
of every episcopal virtue, Hildebert ruled the church of Le Mans for
more than twenty-nine years, and then for the last nine years of his
long life was removed to the metropolitan throne of Tours.[538]
[Sidenote: Claims of the Norman Dukes over the bishopric.]
[Sidenote: Anger of Rufus at the election of Hildebert.]
All the elements of the Cenomannian state, prince, clergy, and people,
had joined in the elevation of Hildebert. But there was one to whom
any free election or nomination by any of the local powers was in its
own nature distasteful. It was perhaps because their claim was very
doubtful that the princes of the Norman house clave with such special
obstinacy to their rights over the temporalities of the see of Le
Mans. The bishopric was the one thing in Maine which even the careless
Robert cared about.[539] And to William Rufus, who so deeply cherished
his father’s memory, it would seem a crowning indignity that a bishop
appointed by his father, a special and loyal friend of his father,
should be succeeded by any one, whether the choice of count, chapter,
or _commune_, in whose election he himself had no share. When the King
heard of the election of Hildebert, he was very wroth. He forbade his
consecration, seemingly under threats of open war.[540] Hildebert was
consecrated none the less, and the war which Rufus had hitherto
planned in his heart, broke out in action.[541]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: William in Normandy. November, 1097.]
[Sidenote: His designs on Maine.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême attacks Maine.]
[Sidenote: Helias strengthens the castle of Dangeul.]
[Sidenote: Its position.]
When William crossed the sea in the November following the election of
Hildebert, we may believe that the wrong which he held to have been
done to him in the matter of that election was in his mind as a
secondary cause of action, along with his demand of the Vexin from the
King of the French. He came for war with France; he was ready for war
with Maine also. But we do not hear of any actual military operations
till the next year had begun. And, when warfare began, it was at first
warfare carried on, just as often happened in Wales and even in
Scotland, by the King’s licence indeed, but not by the King himself.
The immediate danger lay on the side of the county which was
threatened by the constant enemy of Maine and of Helias, Robert of
Bellême. From him came the first acts of warfare. It was against him
that Helias now found it needful to strengthen his castle of
Dangeul.[542] This point lies to the north-east of Ballon, at only a
few miles’ distance. The castle stands on a height nearly equal to
that of Ballon, though Dangeul does not take the same marked form of a
promontory, but rather stands on the edge of a wide expanse of high
ground sinking by stages down to the plain below. The fortress has
wholly vanished; but its site may be traced within the grounds of the
modern _château_ which has taken its place, and which represents, in a
figure, the stronghold of Helias. The view which the spot commands
shows how well the site was chosen. The eye ranges as far as the
height of Sillé-le-Guillaume on one side, as far as the Norman
Chaumont on the other. Dangeul stood right in the way of an advance of
the arch-enemy, whether from his own home at Bellême or from any of
his Norman or Cenomannian fortresses.
[Sidenote: Geographical character of the war; waged chiefly with Robert
of Bellême.]
The war of Maine is largely a war between Helias and Robert of
Bellême. This gives the war its special geographical character. The
immediate possessions of Helias lay in the south-eastern part of the
county; the fortresses of the enemy threatened him from the
north-east. The capital lay between them. The result is that the seat
of war is confined to the eastern part of Maine, the modern department
of Sarthe, and that Le Mans itself is its special centre. Of western
Maine, the modern department of Mayenne, we hear nothing. There is no
news from the old battle-field of Domfront, Ambrières, and Mayenne
itself, though of the lord of Mayenne we still continue to hear.
There is nothing this time to tell of Sainte-Susanne or of
Sillé-le-Guillaume.[543] The war takes up such an area as is natural
when the strife is waged mainly for the city of Le Mans, when it is
waged between the lord of La Flèche and the lord of Bellême. The enemy
advances from Alençon and Mamers; he is checked by the fortification
of Dangeul.
[Illustration:
Map illustrating
the
CAMPAIGN OF MAINE
A.D. 1098.
_Edwᵈ. Weller_
_For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press._]
[Sidenote: Effects of the occupation of Dangeul.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême invites the King. January, 1098.]
[Sidenote: William and Robert against Helias.]
[Sidenote: _Guerrilla_ warfare of Helias.]
[Sidenote: William leaves Maine.]
The occupation of this last strong post by Helias was not without
effect. He did not indeed win back any of the castles which were held
by Robert of Bellême; but the garrison of Dangeul kept the invader in
check, and hindered him from carrying his accustomed ravages through
the whole country. This move of Helias seems even to have convinced
Robert that the conquest of Maine was an undertaking too great for his
own unassisted power. In January he went to the King, and stirred him
up to a direct attack on Helias. With a lover of warfare like Robert
winter went for nothing; it would be just the time to take the enemy
by surprise, while they were not expecting any attack. The King, we
are told, was unwilling. It is hard to understand why this should be,
unless he was too busily occupied with the war in the Vexin. He was
ashamed however――the chivalrous feeling again comes in――to shrink from
any warlike enterprise which was proposed to him.[544] The King and
the Count of Bellême set forth; but they found the Count of Maine
fully their match. He knew how war was to be carried on in his own
land against an enemy stronger than himself. He planted detachments at
every convenient post; he lined the hedges and defences of every kind
with men; he guarded the passages of the streams, and the difficult
approaches of the woods. Against this kind of skirmishing warfare the
mighty Rufus and all his knights were able to do as little as they
were able to do against the light-armed Welsh.[545] The King waxed
fiercer than ever against the men of Maine and their Count; but he
withdrew his own personal presence, betaking himself doubtless to the
other seat of war.
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême continues the war.]
[Sidenote: Castles held by him in Maine.]
Meanwhile Robert of Bellême was left to carry on the struggle with
Helias. He was ordered by Rufus to bring together as large a force as
he could in his own fortresses, nor did the King forget to supply him
with abundance of money for that purpose.[546] On such a bidding as
this, Robert of Bellême, Robert the Devil on Cenomannian lips, set to
work with a will which fully bore out his surname. He built new
fortresses, he strengthened the old ones with deep ditches.[547] He
had already occupied nine castles, besides fortified houses, on
Cenomannian ground.[548] The list is given as Blèves, Perray,
Mont-de-la-Nue, Saônes, Saint Remy-du-plain, Lurçon, Allières, Motte
de Gauthier-le-Clincamp, and Mamers. All these lie in the
north-eastern part of the county, the part immediately threatened from
Alençon and Bellême. They occupy nearly the whole of the land between
the Cenomannian Orne and the upper course of the Sarthe above Alençon,
lying on each side, north and south, of the great forest of Perseigne.
The line of the Sarthe from Alençon to Le Mans remained untouched,
while Ballon stood as the advanced guard of the capital, and Dangeul
was a yet further outpost of Helias, in the very teeth of the invader
from Bellême. Perray, alone among the points held by Robert, stands as
far south as the lower course of the Orne.
[Sidenote: Mamers.]
[Sidenote: Blèves.]
[Sidenote: Allières.]
[Sidenote: Saint Remy-du-plain.]
[Sidenote: Saônes.]
[Sidenote: Small architectural remains of the eleventh century.]
Several of the castles on this list occupied marked sites, and have
left considerable traces. Mamers and Blèves were strictly border
fortresses, points which Robert had seized just within the Cenomannian
border; the others were more advanced points in the heart of the
Cenomannian land. Mamers, with its streets sloping down to the young
Orne, is the only one of the places on our list which is now at all a
considerable town. But the only signs of its fortifications which are
to be seen are found in the names of its streets, which suggest the
former presence of a fort by the river and of a castle on somewhat
higher ground. Mamers, due west from Bellême, may well have been
Robert’s first conquest, and its occupation may have marked his first
advance into the dominions of his neighbour. But he must also, early
in his career, have made himself master of Blèves. This is a point
which has no natural advantages of height, but which, standing in the
very north-east corner of Maine, separated from Perche by a small
tributary of the Sarthe, is important from its border position and as
commanding a bridge. A mound which once stood there has been levelled;
a graceful _Renaissance_ house near its site is the present
representative of the castle; but parts of the ditches may still be
seen; the church, near but not within the enclosure, contains work
which may have been looked on by Hildebert and Helias, and ancient
masonry still remains at the manorial mill. Blèves lies north of the
forest of Perseigne; at Allières, on its eastern verge, all actual
traces of the castle have vanished; but the church again contains some
small parts which seem contemporary with our story, and the site of
the fortress may well be marked by the modern _château_ on the
hill-side commanding a wide view to the south. But more speaking
witnesses of this war may be seen at two points lying south of the
forest and directly west of Mamers. Saint Remy, distinguished as Saint
Remy _du Plain_ from a namesake to the south-east known as Saint Remy
_du Mont_, stands, not indeed in the plain, but on the edge of the
high ground. It commands an extensive view, reaching to the point
which bounds most of the views in northern Maine, the _butte_ of
Chaumont. A site of the like kind, but with a less wide prospect, is
held by Saônes at a short distance to the south, hard by that unusual
feature in these lands, a small lake. Saônes is now a small village,
but it was once of importance enough to give its name to the
surrounding district of _Saosnois_ or _Sonnois_. In both these cases
the castle-mound rises immediately to the west of the church, the
latter at Saint Remy being a late building of more pretension than is
usual in the neighbourhood. Each mound has its surrounding ditch,
which at Saint Remy is of most striking depth; each has its encircling
wall; each has its inner tower, that at Saônes of an irregular
four-sided shape, that of Saint Remy octagonal without and round
within. Here are two unmistakeable and most striking sites of the
fortresses which the invader from Perche rent away from the
Cenomannian county. But, with such small remains of walls as are still
left, it is hard to say in each case how much may be the work of
Robert of Bellême himself. The mounds――natural hills improved by
art――and their ditches are doubtless far older than his day; the walls
must often be far later. There is little architectural detail left to
decide such points; we are left to the less certain evidence of
masonry. Some of the masonry in the inner building at Saônes certainly
has the air of work of the eleventh century. In any case, whatever may
be the exact amount of his work among the existing remains, everything
bears witness to the impression which Robert’s invasion made on the
district and to the reputation which he left behind him. Not far from
Saônes, some remains of dykes, of the age or object of which it would
be rash to speak with certainty, still keep the name of Robert the
Devil.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Nature of the country and of the war.]
[Sidenote: Teaching of the landscapes in Maine.]
[Sidenote: The castles.]
[Sidenote: Their object private war.]
[Sidenote: Contrast with England.]
[Sidenote: Comparative rarity of castles in England.]
[Sidenote: State of the Cenomannian castles.]
A visit to the scene of this war, a look-out from any of the chief
fortified points, brings forcibly home to us the nature of that kind
of struggle with which we are dealing. Nothing but an actual sight of
Italy and Greece fully brings home to the mind the state of things
when each city was a sovereign commonwealth, armed with all the powers
of war and peace. Till we take in the fact with our own eyes, we do
not thoroughly understand how men felt and acted when they constantly
lived with rivals, rivals who might at any moment become enemies,
within sight of their own territory. The out-look from any of the
Cenomannian heights, the out-look from the home and centre of mischief
on the hill of Bellême, brings home to us another state of things with
equal force. Had the _commune_ of Le Mans lived on, had other
neighbouring cities followed its example, the older Greek, the later
Italian, model might have been seen in all its fulness on the soil of
northern Gaul. And warfare between Le Mans and Tours, between Le Mans
and Alençon, carried on with that mixture of lofty and petty motives
which is characteristic of warfare between rival cities, would have
been ennobling compared with the state of things which actually was.
For here we see every available point seized on to make what, at least
in the hands of Robert of Bellême, was a mere den of robbers.[549]
From his own scarped mound at Bellême the destroyer could see far
enough into the Cenomannian land to give a keen whet to his appetite
for havoc. Within the land which thus lay open to his attack, we see
from every height the sites, not of one or two only, but of a whole
crowd of strongholds which have passed away. A very few only of these
strongholds could ever have been needed for the protection of any town
or for the general defence of the country. They were strongholds which
had been first raised for the purpose of private war, and which, in
the hands of their present master, were turned to the purpose of
general oppression. One wonders how, in such a state of things, when
almost every village was overshadowed by its robber’s nest, a single
husbandman could till his field, or a single merchant carry his wares
from town to town. And we must remember that, unless during the
nineteen years of anarchy, this state of things never existed in
England. Our forefathers raised their wail over the building of the
castles and over the evil deeds which were wrought by those who built
them. But at no time in England, save on the borders which were
exposed to the foreign enemies of the kingdom, did castles stand so
thick on the ground as they did in the land on which we now look. The
eye which has been used to track out the scenes of the Cenomannian war
comes back to an English landscape of the same kind, to mark the steep
bluff or the isolated mount, which seems designed to be girt with a
ditch and crowned with a donjon, and almost to wonder that no ditch or
donjon ever was there. And, as we gaze on the land where they crowned
every tempting site, we better understand the joy and thankfulness
with which men hailed the reign of any prince who put some curb on the
pride and power of the knightly disturbers of the peace and gave to
smaller men some chance of possessing their own in safety. We can
understand how in such a prince this overwhelming merit was held to
outweigh not a few vices and crimes in his own person. We can
understand how, at the beginning of every period of restored order, a
general sweeping away of castles was as it were the symbolic act of
its inauguration. And perhaps the thought comes all the more home to
the mind, because the Cenomannian castles are, to so great an extent,
a memory and not a presence. They are not like those castles by the
Rhine which have come to take their place as parts of a picturesque
landscape. As a rule, it is not the castles themselves, but the sites
where we know that they once stood, which catch the eye as it ranges
from Mamers to Sillé, from Ballon to Alençon. But when we see how many
spots within that region had been made the sites of these dens of
havoc――when we think how many of them had, in the hands of Robert of
Bellême, become dens of havoc more fearful than ever――we shall better
understand how men cherished the names of William the Great and of his
youngest son; we shall better understand the work which had now to be
done in the Cenomannian land by one nobler than either the son or the
father.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Wrong and sacrilege of Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: Helias defeats Robert at Saônes.]
[Sidenote: Cruelty of Robert.]
In the minds of Helias and his contemporaries the occupation of so
large a part of their country was yet more keenly embittered by the
despite done to holy places and the wrong wrought on men who enjoyed
exceptional respect even in the fiercest times. Some of the
strongholds of Robert the Devil were planted on lands belonging to the
Church, especially to the abbeys of Saint Vincent and La Couture
without the walls of Le Mans. The peaceful tenants of these religious
houses, accustomed to a milder rule than their neighbours, groaned
under the oppressions of their new masters.[550] Stirred up by this
wrong and sacrilege, the Count of Maine marched forth to protect his
people. Now that the King was gone, he even ventured on something like
a pitched battle. He met Robert of Bellême at the head of a superior
force near the lake and castle of Saônes, not far, it may be, from the
dyke which specially bears the tyrant’s name. The pious Count and his
followers, calling on God and Saint Julian, attacked the sacrilegious
invaders and put them to flight.[551] Several of the nobles of
Normandy were wounded or taken prisoners. Robert of Courcy, a name not
new to us,[552] lost his right eye. William of Wacey and several
others were taken, and were released on the payment of heavy
ransoms.[553] Helias, in short, carried on a defensive warfare in the
spirit of a Christian knight. Not so his enemy. Robert of Bellême
carried on a war of aggression in the spirit of a murdering savage.
All the worst horrors of war were let loose upon the land. Robert’s
treatment of prisoners was not that which the captive Normans met with
at the hands of Helias. In the holy season of Lent, when other
sinners, we are told, forsook their sins for a while, the son of Mabel
only did worse than ever. Three hundred prisoners perished in his
dungeons. Large ransoms were offered for their release; but Robert
would not forego for money the pleasure of letting them die of cold,
hunger, and wretchedness.[554]
[Sidenote: April, 1098.]
[Sidenote: Second victory of Helias. April 28, 1098.]
[Sidenote: Helias taken prisoner near Dangeul.]
The war thus went on till the end of April. On the Wednesday in the
last week of that month Helias made an expedition against Robert. The
exact point of attack is not told us; but doubtless it was some of the
fortresses held by the enemy. It was perhaps Perray, the hostile point
furthest to the south, perhaps Saônes, the scene of his own former
victory over the invaders. The starting-points of the Count’s
operations were the two points which he held as outposts of the city
against attacks from the north, Ballon and his own immediate
dwelling-place at Dangeul. From these castles Helias led forth his
forces. The day’s skirmish was successful; the pride of Robert the
Devil received another check.[555] But fortune soon turned from the
better to the worse cause. The Count bade the main body of his
followers march on to Ballon, while he himself, with seven knights
only, was minded to halt at his own castle of Dangeul. As he drew near
to the fortress, he saw a few men lurking among the trees and
bushes.[556] Trees and bushes are still there in abundance,
surrounding the modern house which in a figure represents the castle
of Helias. The presence of liers-in-wait so near his own home was
threatening. Helias rode against them and scattered them; in so doing
he also scattered his own small party. But the few men in the thickets
were only the advanced guard of a larger body. The arch-fiend Robert
was himself near in ambush. At the lucky moment he sprang forth; his
comrades seized the Count, along with his standard-bearer Hervey of
the Cenomannian Montfort,[557] and the more part of his small
following. The few who escaped made their way to Ballon, to turn the
joy of their comrades into sorrow at the news that Count Helias was a
prisoner.[558]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Contrast between Robert of Bellême and William Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Helias surrendered to the King.]
[Sidenote: William and Helias.]
[Sidenote: Helias kept at Rouen.]
The noblest man in Gaul was now at the mercy of the vilest. Helias was
helpless in the hands of Robert of Bellême. The tale which follows is
picturesque in itself, and it is specially valuable as throwing light
on the mixed character of the Red King. With all his evil deeds, he
was at least not the worst man with whom we have to do. We now see
what mere chivalry could do and what it could not do. It could not
raise a man to the level of Helias; but it kept him from sinking to
the level of Robert of Bellême. Helias was far too important a captive
to be left to die a lingering death in the dungeons of Robert. He was
taken to Rouen, and handed over to the King; and in the King’s hands
he at least ran no risk as to life or limb. William Rufus might
perhaps not understand a patriot fighting for his city and country. He
could perhaps understand a prince fighting for the inheritance of his
fathers. He could most fully understand and admire a gallant and
honourable knight fighting manfully in any cause, even though his
gallantry was directed against himself. In one or other of those
characters, Helias extorted a kind of respect from the King who was so
bitterly enraged against him. The fortune of war had gone against the
defender of Maine, but William was not disposed to press his advantage
harshly. Helias was kept in the castle of Rouen, a prisoner, but a
prisoner whose durance was, by the King’s express order, relieved by
honourable treatment.[559]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: State of things at Le Mans;]
[Sidenote: the new municipality.]
[Sidenote: Bishop Hildebert and the Council.]
[Sidenote: William’s council at Rouen.]
[Sidenote: His speech.]
[Sidenote: A great levy ordered.]
One element of the Cenomannian state, and that the highest, was thus
lost to it. But at Le Mans the prince was only one element in the
state; the ecclesiastical and the civic powers appear alongside of him
at every stage. As soon as the Count was in the hands of the enemy,
another power, perhaps not the old _commune_, yet some form of
republican or municipal government, at once sprang up. Bishop
Hildebert appears at the head of a council or assembly of some kind
which devised measures daily for the safety of the commonwealth.[560]
We must not build too much on the expressions of rhetorical writers
who loved to bring in classical allusions; still, considering what Le
Mans had been, a momentary burst of the old freedom is no more than we
might reasonably look for. If so, the restored commonwealth had, at
its first birth, to brave the full might of the younger William, as
the former commonwealth had had to brave the full might of the elder.
We can only tell the tale as we have it, and we have no means of
connecting what was going on in Maine with what was going on at the
same time in the Vexin. Yet one is a little surprised to find William,
at this stage of the year, sitting quietly at Rouen, holding a
council, and presently sending forth orders for the levying of a great
army, as if two wars were not already waging. In his council of the
Norman barons the Red King is made to express himself in a humane and
devout strain. Hitherto he had been careless about winning back the
heritage of his father; he had been unwilling, for the mere sake of
enlarging his dominions, to trouble a peaceful population or to cause
the death of human beings.[561] Now however God, who knew his right,
had, without any knowledge of his, delivered his enemy into his hands;
what should he do further?[562] The writers of these times do indeed
allow themselves strange liberties in putting speeches, and sometimes
very inappropriate speeches, into the mouths of the actors in their
story. But surely to put words like these into the mouth of William
Rufus, as something uttered in seriousness, would be going beyond any
conceivable licence of this kind. Considering his better authenticated
speeches, one is tempted to believe that we have here the memory of
some mocking gibe. He, King William, had not laid waste the fields of
Maine nor caused men to die of hunger in prison. It was only Robert of
Bellême who had done such things. It would be quite in character with
Rufus, as with Jehu, to ask, Who slew all these?[563] Nor is such
brutal mockery in any way inconsistent with the display of chivalrous
generosity whenever any appeal is made personally to himself in his
knightly character. Anyhow we are told that the barons advised that a
summons should go forth bidding the whole force of Normandy to come
together for an expedition to win back the land of Maine. They
themselves would come, willingly and with all daring, in their own
persons.[564]
[Sidenote: Numbers of the army.]
All this reads strangely in a narrative which, a page or two before,
had told us of the warfare around Gisors which, one would think, must
have been going on at this very moment. But we read that the
messengers went forth, and that the host came together. Not only from
Normandy, but from Britanny and Flanders, from Burgundy and
France――not a word as to the treason implied in this last name――men
flocked to the banners of the prince who was so bountiful a
paymaster.[565] At some stage of their march, an aged French warrior,
a survivor of the wars of King Henry――one therefore who could remember
the ambush of Varaville and the flames of Mortemer, perhaps even the
clashing of lances at Val-es-dunes――Gilo de Soleio by name, beheld the
host from the top of a high hill. He had seen many and great
gatherings of men, but never on this side the Alps――had he fought then
in Apulia or at Dyrrhachion?――had he seen so vast an army. He told the
number of the men at fifty thousand.[566] Be the figures trustworthy
or not as to this particular army, this is one of several hints which
help to show us what passed in those days for an army of unusual
numbers.[567]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The army meets at Alençon. June, 1098.]
[Sidenote: The army at Fresnay.]
[Sidenote: The castle and church of Fresnay.]
[Sidenote: Beaumont-le-Vicomte.]
[Sidenote: The Viscount Ralph asks for a truce.]
[Sidenote: Rufus grants it.]
[Sidenote: Action of Geoffrey of Mayenne.]
The trysting-place of this great host was at Alençon, the border town
and fortress of Normandy, where the Sarthe divides the Norman and
Cenomannian lands.[568] Once famous as the town whose people had felt
so stern a vengeance for their insults to the great William, it was
now a stronghold of Normandy against Maine, at all events a stronghold
of Robert of Bellême against those who still maintained the cause of
the captive Helias. There the army met in June.[569] Rufus, in
invading Maine, was repeating an exploit of his father. He entered by
the same road, and began by threatening the same fortress. The words
of our authorities may lead us to think that he himself tarried at
Alençon, while his army, or the bulk of it, marched to Fresnay.[570]
Fresnay-le-Vicomte, Fresnay-on-Sarthe, was the first castle in Maine
to which the Conqueror had laid siege, and under its walls Robert of
Bellême had been girt with the belt of knighthood.[571] At that time
Fresnay, along with Beaumont lower down the river, had dared to
withstand the invader. Both fortresses stand on heights overlooking
the Sarthe; Fresnay, seated on a limestone rock rising sheer from the
stream, might seem well able to defy any enemy. Of the ancient part of
the castle nothing is left but shattered walls and a stern gateway of
a later age. The church, a gem of the art of an age nearly a hundred
years later, contains only a small part which can have been standing
in the days of Rufus. Beaumont is not mentioned in our present story.
But its square keep must have already looked down on the Sarthe and
its islands, while a mound on each side of the town, one seemingly
artificial, one by the river-side only improved by art, may perhaps
mark the sites of besieging towers raised by the Conqueror to bring
town and castle into subjection.[572] The then lord of Fresnay and
Beaumont, the Viscount Hubert, had at a later stage forsaken both his
castles on the Sarthe, to defy, and that successfully, the whole might
of William the Great from his more inaccessible donjon on the rock of
Sainte-Susanne.[573] His successor, the Viscount Ralph, felt no call
to run any such risks. When the army drew near to Fresnay, when no
hostilities beyond a little skirmishing had as yet taken place, Ralph
went to the King at Alençon and asked for a truce. He pleaded that he
was but one member of a body; he could not take on himself the duties
of the head of that body; he could not without dishonour be the first
man in Maine to yield his castle without fighting. The council of
Maine was sitting in the city; he, Ralph, was bound by their resolves;
let the King go on to Le Mans and negotiate; as he should find peace
or war at Le Mans, he should find peace or war at Fresnay.[574] Rufus,
always ready to answer any appeal to his personal generosity, praised
the proposal of Ralph, and granted him the truce which he asked
for.[575] He did the like to others whose lands lay on his line of
march. Among these we hear of Rotrou of the Cenomannian Montfort, and
of one whose name has for so many years been sure to meet us the first
moment he set foot on Cenomannian soil, the now surely aged Geoffrey
of Mayenne.[576]
[Sidenote: Estimate of their conduct.]
[Sidenote: Fulk Rechin at Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: May 5, 1098.]
[Sidenote: He is received.]
[Sidenote: Fulk’s son Geoffrey left at Le Mans.]
The conduct of these lords seems to show lukewarmness, to say the
least, in the cause of Cenomannian independence. We are again reminded
of the days of the _commune_, of the unwillingness of the nobles to
accept the republican government, of the special treason of Geoffrey
himself.[577] We can understand that many of the lords of castles
throughout Maine, though they might prefer their own count to the king
who came against them, might yet prefer the king to any form of
commonwealth. The local historian does not scruple to use strong
language on the subject. For we can hardly doubt that Geoffrey, Ralph,
Rotrou, and others in the like case, are the persons who are referred
to as the faithless men by whose consent Rufus was led to hasten to
the city.[578] But the King had another motive to call him thither. By
this time there was no longer a commonwealth to be dealt with; Le Mans
had again a prince, though no longer her native prince. In the very
week after Helias was taken prisoner, Fulk of Anjou came to Le Mans,
and brought with him his son Geoffrey. He himself came in his
character of superior lord,[579] while Geoffrey, to whom Eremburga,
the only child of Helias, was betrothed, might pass in some sort for
the heir of the county.[580] The citizens, we are told, received the
Angevin count willingly; any master was better than the Norman. Fulk
put garrisons in the fortresses of La Mans, with his son in command.
He then left the city, seemingly for operations in other parts of
Maine.[581]
[Illustration:
LE MANS
_E. Weller_
_For the Delegates of the Clarendon Press._]
[Sidenote: March of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Castle of Bourg-le-roi.]
[Sidenote: Rufus at Montbizot]
[Sidenote: and Coulaines.]
[Sidenote: View of Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: Rufus ravages Coulaines.]
Against this new enemy William Rufus set out from Alençon. He had to
overtake the host which was already at Fresnay. He crossed the Sarthe;
he continued his course along its left bank, and stopped for the first
time at Rouessée-les-fontaines.[582] This point is no great distance
from Alençon, and it is still some way north of Fresnay. The present
village of Rouessée contains no signs of any castle or mansion fitted
for a king’s reception. One suspects that the exact spot meant must be
the neighbouring castle of Bourg-le-roi, a castle said to take its
name from Rufus himself. Here a ruined round tower, with walls of
amazing thickness and girded by a deep ditch, looks down from a small
hill on what seems to be the preparation for a large town which has
never been built. A small village and church are sheltered within
walls of vast compass, pierced by gates of later date than the days of
Rufus and Helias. His next stage is distinctly spoken of as an
encampment. The King had now joined his army. That night his camp was
pitched at Montbizot, in the peninsula between the Sarthe and the
Cenomannian Orne.[583] On the third day he encamped in the meadows, by
the Sarthe, hard by the village of Coulaines.[584] He was still on the
left bank of the river, the same bank as the city itself, though the
bend which the stream makes immediately under the hill of Le Mans
gives the city almost the look of standing on the other side. Wide
meadows spread from the village of Coulaines to the foot of the hill;
they were now covered by the tents of Rufus. Right before the eyes of
the army, high on its hill, rose the city which they were come to
attack, and it rose so as to bring at once before their leader’s eyes
the objects which would specially stir up his wrath. As Le Mans is
seen from the meadows of Coulaines, the city and its hill lie almost
out of sight to the south-west. The prominent objects are those which
stand in the north-east corner of the city and in the adjoining
suburb. Highest of all, rising above the city itself, soared the abbey
of Saint Vincent without the walls, the house whose tenants had been
so cruelly oppressed by Robert of Bellême.[585] Saint Julian’s, on its
lower ground, almost closes in the view on the other side. When Rufus
drew nigh, the twin towers of Howel rose high in all the freshness of
their newly-finished masonry, to remind the King that the chair of the
prelate whom his father had appointed was now filled by a successor in
whose choice no regard had been paid to his own pleasure. Between the
two minsters rose the royal tower, the tower of his father, the
fortress which had passed away from him and from his father’s house,
held no longer even by a rebellious vassal, as he might deem Helias,
but by the invading stranger from Anjou. How deeply one at least of
these feelings rankled in the mind of Rufus is shown by his dealings
with the immediate neighbourhood of his encampment. The village of
Coulaines was an episcopal lordship. For the churl chivalry taught no
mercy; in his wrath against Hildebert, the King burned the church and
the whole village, and cruelly laid waste the neighbouring lands.[586]
[Sidenote: Sally from the city.]
[Sidenote: Rufus goes away.]
[Sidenote: Ballon betrayed to Rufus and occupied by Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: The siege of Le Mans raised.]
But however fiercely Rufus might wreak his spite on the unlucky lands
and tenants of the bishopric without the walls, the flock of Hildebert
within the city was safe for a while. Le Mans was not to pass into the
King’s hands just yet, and Ralph of Beaumont and Geoffrey of Mayenne
might still keep their bat-like nature for some while longer. For it
is at this stage that the local historian places an exploit of the
citizens of Le Mans which reminds us of the way in which our own
Godwine was said to have won the special favour of Cnut for himself
and his fellow-Englishmen.[587] The men of the city marched
forth――whether under Angevin leadership we are not told――to attack the
King’s camp at Coulaines. Rufus, deeming that some treachery was on
foot, marched off in the night with his army. In the morning the
citizens occupied the camp and found no one there.[588] It is hard to
say what we are to make of this story, which has a somewhat mythical
sound. But it has at least thus much of truth in it, that Rufus was
obliged to break up the siege of Le Mans for a while. The castle of
Ballon, of which we have already so often heard, was betrayed to Rufus
by its lord Pagan of Mont-Doubleau, and it was held that this strong
position, nearly due north of the city, almost put the city itself
into the King’s power. Robert of Bellême was put in command at Ballon,
with three hundred knights. At his bidding the land was ravaged in
every way; the vines were rooted up and the crops were trampled down.
But at last the invaders began to feel the effects of the damage they
themselves had done. A failure of provisions, especially of oats for
the horses, hindered the Red King from keeping on the siege.[589] He
went away into Normandy, bidding his men go home and see to their
harvests, and come again when the crops were reaped.[590] Nothing is
more natural in the case of the native Normans, who would feel in such
a case very much as Englishmen felt; but one can hardly believe that
William allowed his great mercenary force to be wholly broken up. And
again, the question keeps always presenting itself, What was going on
in the Vexin? Was there any moment when so eager a warrior, with two
wars on his hands at once, left both of them to take care of
themselves? Throughout this story the relations between the French and
the Cenomannian wars form a never-ceasing puzzle. But we presently
come to an incident of the campaign which is the most characteristic
in the whole history of William Rufus.
[Sidenote: Fulk attacks Ballon.]
[Sidenote: Successful sally of the besieged.]
[Sidenote: William at Ballon, c. July 20, 1098.]
[Sidenote: His treatment of the captive knights.]
[Sidenote: Illustration of the chivalrous spirit.]
While William was away, Count Fulk, at the head of a mixed host,
Angevin and Cenomannian, laid siege to the newly-betrayed castle of
Ballon. The attack went on for some days; a message was sent to the
King for help. To meet this fresh danger, the nobles of Maine and
Anjou pressed in greater numbers to help the Count and his force. The
defenders of the castle planned a sally. Beggars went out as spies,
and brought in news that the besiegers were busy dining at the hour of
tierce. The sally was made; the besiegers were surprised in the midst
of their meal;[591] a hundred and forty knights and a crowd of
foot-soldiers were taken prisoners. The rest took to flight and left a
rich spoil of arms, clothes, and furniture as a prey to the Normans.
Many of the captives were men of high rank and great possessions. The
story almost reads as if Robert of Bellême condemned them to die of
hunger; if so, Rufus came before hunger had done its work; cold would
no longer be a means of torture. It was now not Lent, but the third
week in July, when King William with a great force came to Ballon. A
cry presently reached him from the prisoners, “Noble King William, set
us free.” The chivalrous King, who had no mercy for the peasants of
Coulaines, felt his heart stirred towards the captive knights of
Anjou. He ordered that a meal should be made ready for them along with
his own followers, and he set them free on their parole till the meal
was ready. Some of his companions suggested to him that, in the crowd
and confusion, they might easily escape. Rufus cast aside such a
suggestion with scorn. He would never believe that a good knight would
break his word; he who should do so would have punishment enough in
the scorn of all mankind that would follow him.[592] Here we see the
chivalrous character in all its fulness. Justice and mercy go for
nothing; the law of God and the law of man go for nothing; the oath of
the crowned king, the promise of a prince and a brother, go for
nothing; but the class tie of knighthood is sacred; the promise made
under its guaranty is sacred. As a good knight, William Rufus is
faithful to his own word pledged as such to others; as a good knight,
he will not believe that a brother of his order can be other than
faithful to his word pledged as such to him.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Fulk goes back to Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: Negotiations for peace.]
[Sidenote: Share of Helias.]
[Sidenote: Convention between William and Fulk. August, 1098.]
[Sidenote: Le Mans to be surrendered.]
[Sidenote: Helias to be set free.]
The siege of Ballon was at an end. Fulk, we are told, betook himself
to the city, and there stayed in some of the monasteries, waiting to
see what would happen.[593] But the defenders of Le Mans, both native
and Angevin, had now made up their minds that resistance to the power
of Rufus was hopeless; their object was to treat for peace. The
captive Helias was allowed a share in the negotiations; he was
specially fearful that Fulk might make some agreement by which he
himself might be cut off from Maine for ever.[594] By the King’s
leave, Bishop Hildebert and some of the chief men of the city visited
Helias, and they agreed on terms which were put into the form of an
agreement between Rufus and Fulk. It was rather a military convention
than a treaty of peace, and it left all the disputed questions
unsettled. Nothing was said either as to the general question about
the bishopric or as to the particular election of Hildebert. Nor was
it at all ruled who was to be looked on as lawful Count of Maine. It
was not even agreed that hostilities were to cease. The actual terms
are conceived in words which seem to come from Rufus himself. The
memory of his father is put prominently forward. Le Mans and all the
fortresses which had been held by the late King William were to be
surrendered to King William his son. Helias and all other prisoners on
both sides were to be set free.[595] All sides, we are told, rejoiced
at this agreement. To William and his followers it was a great
immediate triumph. To the people of Le Mans it was at least immediate
deliverance from a wasting struggle. And wary men may have seen that
the liberation of Helias was not too dearly bought even by the
surrender of his capital. If the valiant Count were set free, free
alike from fetters and from promises, he would win back his lost city
and dominion before long.
[Sidenote: Submission of Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: The castles occupied by the King’s troops.]
But for the present all went according to the pleasure of the Red
King. Rufus, as his father had twice done, entered Le Mans without
bloodshed, amidst at least the outward welcome of its inhabitants. And
it may well be that, if Helias was not to be had, they may have looked
on William as a more promising master than Fulk. The convention was
formally accepted, and it was immediately carried out. Robert the son
of Hugh of Montfort, that Hugh whom we have already heard of on Senlac
and at Dover,[596] was sent at the head of seven hundred chosen
knights, full armed in their helmets and coats of mail, to occupy the
fortresses of Le Mans.[597] They met with no opposition; the
garrisons, native or Angevin, marched out; the Normans took
possession. All the strong places of the city――the ancient palace of
the counts on the Roman wall――the donjon of William the Great, the
royal tower, standing so dangerously near to the north wall of Saint
Julian’s minster――the other fortress of the Conqueror, the tower of
Mont Barbet on its height, overlooking the city from the side of Saint
Vincent’s abbey――all that the father had either subdued or called into
being――now passed without a blow into the hands of the son. The King’s
banner――what was the ensign wrought upon it?――was hoisted amid shouts
of victory on the highest point of the royal tower. King William the
Red had achieved the object which in his thoughts came nearest to the
nature of a duty. He had brought under his hand all that had ever been
under the hand of his father.[598]
[Sidenote: William’s entry into Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: His reception by Hildebert.]
[Sidenote: The church of Saint Julian.]
On the day of the military occupation followed the day of the joyous
entry. The Red King entered, doubtless by the northern gate, the gate
between Saint Vincent’s abbey and the royal tower. His new subjects
welcomed him with shouts and songs, and were received by him to his
full peace.[599] Bishop Hildebert, seemingly now admitted to favour,
with his clergy and people, met the King with psalms and processions.
They led him by the royal tower, with his own banner floating on its
battlements, to the cathedral church, now a vaster and more splendid
pile than when the first Conqueror had been led to it with the same
pomp.[600] The twin towers of Howel soared in their freshness; the
aisles which we still see, with their abiding Roman masonry, had risen
at his bidding; it may well have been by the mighty portal of his
rearing that Rufus entered within the hallowed walls. Within, the
sight was different in every stone, in every adornment, from that on
which we now gaze. The columns and arches of Saint Julian’s nave were
still the columns and arches of the basilica which Aldric had raised
when Le Mans was a city of the Empire of the pious Lewis.[601] It may
be that of those columns we can here and there spell out some faint
traces amid the finer masonry and gorgeous foliage of the next age.
But of the works to the east, still new when Rufus came, the splendid
reconstructions of later times have left us no signs. The choir of
Arnold still blazed in all its freshness with the rich decorations
which had been added by the skill and bounty of Howel. The first bloom
had not passed away from the painted ceiling, from the rich pavement,
from the narrow windows glowing with the deep richness of colour which
no later age could surpass. Through all these new-born splendours of
the holy place the scoffer and blasphemer was solemnly guided to the
shrines of Saint Julian and of all the saints of Le Mans. And there
were moments when the heart of Rufus was not wholly shut against
better thoughts. As at Saint Martin of the Place of Battle, so at
Saint Julian in newly-won Le Mans, we may deem that some dash of
thankfulness was mingled with his swelling pride, as he felt that he
had finished his father’s work.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: William leaves Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: General submission of Maine.]
The stay of William at Le Mans does not seem to have been long. The
government of the city was put into the hands of Count William of
Evreux and of Gilbert of Laigle. The royal tower, well provisioned,
stocked with arms and with all needful things, was placed under the
immediate command of Walter the son of Ansgar of Rouen.[602] The
nobles of Maine now came in to make their submission and to receive
the King’s garrisons into their castles. Among them were Count
Geoffrey of Mayenne and the Viscount Ralph of Beaumont. The terms of
their engagement were fulfilled. Their castles were to follow the
fortune of Le Mans, and Le Mans now was King William’s.[603]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Meeting of William and Helias.]
[Sidenote: Proposals of Helias.]
But he who had lately been the lord of them all was waiting for the
benefits of the convention to be extended to himself. We are a little
surprised when we presently find the King at Rouen, and when we
further find that Helias, who had been lately in ward in the castle
there, had now to be brought hither from a prison at Bayeux.[604] The
King and his captive met face to face. The contrast between the
outward look of the two men was as striking as the difference in their
inward souls. Before the victorious King, short, bulky, ruddy, fierce
of countenance, hasty and stammering in speech, stood the captive
Count, tall, thin, swarthy, master of eloquent and winning words.
Something of bodily neglect marked, perhaps not so much the rigour of
his confinement as a captive’s carelessness of wonted niceties. His
hair, usually neatly trimmed, was now rough and shaggy.[605] The King
seems to have begun the dialogue;[606] “I have you, Sir.” Helias
answered with dignity and respect, as a man of fallen fortunes
speaking to a superior in rank, and yet not stooping to any unworthy
submission. He called on the King, in the name of his might and his
renown, to help him. He had once, he said, been a count, lord of a
noble county. Fortune had now turned against him, and he had lost all.
He asked leave to enter the King’s service, to be allowed to keep his
rank and title of count, but pledging himself not to make any claim to
the Cenomannian county or city, till by some signal exploit on the
King’s behalf he should be deemed worthy to receive them as a grant
from the King’s free will. Till then it would be enough for him to
have his place in the royal following and to enjoy the royal
friendship.
[Sidenote: William disposed to accept Helias’ proposal.]
[Sidenote: He is hindered by Robert of Meulan.]
[Sidenote: Defiance of Helias.]
[Sidenote: Answer of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Helias set free.]
Such an appeal as this went straight to the better part of William’s
nature, and he was at once disposed to agree to the proposal of
Helias. But then stepped in the selfish prudence of Robert of Meulan,
who measured other men by himself. He was now the King’s chief
adviser, and he jealously grudged all influence which might fall to
the lot of any one else.[607] The admission of Helias to the King’s
friendship and councils would of all things be the least suited for
Robert’s purposes. He could not bear that any man, least of all a man
of a spirit so much higher than his own, should be so near the throne
as Helias threatened to be. The men of Maine, said the Count of
Meulan, were a cunning and faithless race. All that the captive Helias
sought by his offers was to insinuate himself into the King’s favour,
to learn his secrets, that he might be able, when a fitting moment
came, to rise up against him with more advantage and join himself to
his enemies with greater power. The purpose of Rufus was changed by
the malignant counsel of Count Robert. The petition of Helias was
refused; it was again made; it was again refused. Then the Count of
Maine spoke his defiance. “Willingly, Sir King, would I have served
you, if it had been your pleasure; willingly would I have earned
favour in your sight. But now, I pray you, blame me not, if I take
another course. I cannot bear with patience to see mine inheritance
taken from me. All right is denied to me by overwhelming violence;
wherefore let no man wonder if I again renew my claim, if I strive
with all my might to win back the honour of my fathers.” Rufus was
beside himself with wrath at words like these; but it was in words
only that his wrath spent itself. He stammered out, “Scoundrel, what
can you do? Be off, march, take to flight; I give you leave to do all
you can, and, by the face of Lucca, if you ever conquer me, I will not
ask you for any grace in return for my favour of to-day.” Even after
this outburst, the Count had self-command enough to ask for a
safe-conduct, and the King had self-command enough to grant it. Helias
was guided safely through the Norman duchy, and made his way, to the
delight of his friends, to his own immediate possessions on the
borders of Maine and Anjou.[608]
[Sidenote: Illustration of the King’s character.]
Of all the stories of the Red King there is none more characteristic
than this. His first impulse is to accept a generous and confiding
offer in the spirit in which it was made. For a moment he seems to
rise to the level of the man who stood before him. Even when his
better impulse is checked by an evil counsellor, he does not sink so
low as many would have sunk in the like case. In the wildest wrath of
his insulted pride, he does not forget that his word as a good knight
is pledged to the man who has defied him. Rufus was bound by all the
laws of chivalry to let Helias go this time, whatever he might do if
he caught him again. And the laws of chivalry Rufus obeyed in the
teeth of temptations of opposite kinds. A meaner tyrant might have
sent Helias at once to death or blinding. A calmer or more wary
prince, even though not a tyrant, might have argued that it was unsafe
for him and his dominions to let the man go free who had uttered such
a challenge. He might further have argued that a speech which was so
like an open declaration of war at once set aside the conditions of
peace. But William Rufus, when once on his point of honour, was not
led away from it either by the impulse of vengeance or by the
calculations of prudence. His knightly word was pledged that Helias
should go free. Free therefore he went, after his defiance had been
answered by a counter defiance, each alike emphatically characteristic
of the man who uttered it.
§ 3. _The End of the French War_.
_September-December_, 1098.
[Sidenote: William on the continent. 1097-1099.]
[Sidenote: Extent of William’s conquests in Maine.]
[Sidenote: He begins, but does not finish.]
The war of Maine was, or seemed to be, over. And, just at this point
we get a chronology clear enough to enable us to fix the connexion of
the two works which were going on at once. We have seen William in his
Norman capital at a time when we should rather have looked for him on
one or other of his Norman frontiers. But it seems plain that he spent
the whole year on the mainland, and that he did not cross to England
at any time between the two Christmas feasts which he is specially
said to have kept in Normandy. Helias was set free in August, and we
are led to believe that Rufus now deemed that the war of Maine was
over, or at least that he could afford to despise it in its present
stage. We shall presently see that the war of Maine was by no means
over, and that William’s Cenomannian conquests hardly reached beyond
the capital and the lands north of the capital. We are inclined to
wonder that a warlike prince like Rufus took no further heed to a
campaign which was manifestly unfinished, while an active enemy was
again at liberty and was still in possession of a strong line of
castles. But this is neither the first nor the last time in which we
find William the Red much more vigorous in beginning a campaign than
in ending it. And in this case he may, with two wars on his hands,
have not unreasonably thought that, after so great a conquest as that
of the capital of Maine, he could afford to turn his thoughts to the
other seat of warfare. In the month after Helias was set free, he made
up his mind for a special effort against the stubborn border-land of
France.
[Sidenote: William sets forth. September 27, 1098.]
[Sidenote: The sign in the sky.]
[Sidenote: Its meaning.]
[Sidenote: He marches to Pontoise.]
Two days before Michaelmas, William set forth, from what head-quarters
we are not told, at the head of a great army. On his way to the seat
of war he enjoyed the hospitality of Ralph of Toesny on the hill of
Conches. That night there was a sign in the heavens; the whole sky
blazed and seemed as red as blood. At other times such a portent in
the heavens might not have seemed too great to betoken some great
victory or defeat on the part of one or other of the contending kings
of the West. But, while Christendom was on its march to the eastern
land, the heavens could tell of nothing meaner than the ups and downs
of the strifes between two continents and two creeds. If the sky was
red over Conches and Evreux and the whole western world, it was
because at that moment Christians and heathens met in battle in the
eastern lands, and by God’s help the Christians had the victory.[609]
But William Rufus cared little for signs and wonders, even when he
himself was deemed to be the subject of their warning. His heart was
not in Palestine, but on the French border; and his present business
was a march against the most distant of the three fortresses to which
he laid claim. Chaumont and Trie still held out; but their garrisons
could not hinder him from carrying a destructive raid into districts
far more distant from his head-quarters at Gisors. He marched to the
south-east, burning, plundering, and carrying off prisoners from the
whole French territory as far as Pontoise.[610]
[Sidenote: Castle and town of Pontoise.]
[Sidenote: Strong position of the town.]
[Sidenote: Pontoise the furthest point of the raid.]
The invading King had now reached a point of French soil nearer to
Paris than the spot where Count Robert kept the Seine barred at
Meulan. At Pontoise, as the name implies, was the bridge spanning the
Oise, the tributary which joins its waters with those of the Seine at
Conflans――the Gaulish _Confluentes_――between Paris and Meulan. Here a
precipitous rock rises above the stream, a rock which, strengthened
and defended by art in every way, was crowned by the vast circuit of
the castle of Pontoise. Here is no town sloping down from the castle
to the river. The castle rock rises sheer――it rose most likely from
the water itself, till the Oise, like the Seine at Rouen, was curbed
by a quay. In the view from the bridge, the castle, shorn as it is of
its towers and of all that can give stateliness to such a building,
still lords it over everything. The town of Pontoise seems to crouch
by the side of the rock; the great church of Saint Maclou, with its
lofty tower of late architecture, is wholly hidden from sight. It is
only at some distance beyond the river, in the suburb known as that of
Saint Ouen _l’Aumône_, that we begin to see that the church stands on
ground not much lower than the site of the castle. We then learn that
the town of Pontoise, standing on a height separate from the
castle-rock, well walled, and with streets as steep as those of Le
Mans or Lincoln, was in itself no contemptible fortress. As usual,
there is little or nothing in town or church or castle that we can
positively assign to the period of our story. But the main features of
the spot must be the same now as they were when the Red King led his
plundering host as far as the bridge of the Oise. It is plain that
this was the end of his course on this side; it is plain that Pontoise
was not added to the list of fortresses which were taken by him or
betrayed to him. But we have nothing to explain why he turned back at
this point, whether he met with any repulse in an attack on Pontoise
or whether he attacked Pontoise at all. We only know that Pontoise
marks in one sense the furthest point of the French campaigns of
William Rufus. We shall presently find him on another side at a
greater distance from his own dominions; but Pontoise marks his
nearest approach to the capital of France. Had Pontoise been William’s
as well as Meulan, Paris would indeed have been threatened. But this
south-eastern journey was clearly, in its effect at least, a mere
plundering raid, from which Rufus came back to attempt a more regular
attack on the nearer enemy at Chaumont.
[Sidenote: Siege of Chaumont.]
[Sidenote: The archers of Chaumont shoot the horses only.]
[Sidenote: Chaumont not taken.]
The siege of Chaumont is described to us in greater detail than the
march on Pontoise, but we do not, any more than at Pontoise, get a
really intelligible account. It is plain that the siege was a
considerable enterprise, one to which Rufus led his whole army. It is
also plain from the result that its issue must have an important
effect on the turn of affairs. But of the siege itself all that we
hear is one of those strange stories by which we are sometimes met,
stories which must have some meaning, which must be grounded on some
fact, and which yet, as they stand, pass all belief. We are told that
the defenders of Chaumont were valiant men, strong to defend the
battlements of their own castle. But to defend their own castle was
all that they could do; their numbers were not enough to enable them
either to meet William’s great army in open battle, or even to hinder
his plunderers from laying waste the neighbouring lands. But the
defence of Chaumont itself was stout, and, as it turned out,
successful. Yet we are told that the garrison of Chaumont, out of the
fear of God and out of tenderness towards men, stood strictly on the
defensive, or took the offensive only towards brute beasts. In taking
aim at the besiegers, they avoided the persons of the riders, and
aimed all their blows at the horses. Seven hundred horses of great
price fell under the arrows and darts of the men of Chaumont, and
their carcases made a rich feast for the dogs and birds of prey of the
Vexin.[611] The virtue of these scrupulous warriors did not go
unrewarded. Our story breaks off somewhat suddenly; but we see that at
all events Chaumont was not taken.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Rare notices of southern Gaul.]
[Sidenote: Coming of William of Poitiers.]
[Sidenote: Alliance of Normandy and Aquitaine.]
The war now takes a turn of special interest, which makes us specially
regret the very unsatisfactory nature of our materials. The field of
our story is suddenly enlarged; but events do not crowd it at all in
proportion to its enlargement. It is but seldom that our tale brings
us into any direct dealing with the lands and the princes south of the
Loire. We have seen the tongue of _oil_ supplant the Danish tongue in
Normandy, and we have seen it appear as a rival to our own speech in
our own island. But we have been seldom called on to listen to the
accents of the tongue of _oc_. But at this moment the chief potentate
of that tongue suddenly appears on the field of our story, an
appearance from which we naturally look for great events. The young
lord of the Vexin and heir of France had to meet a new enemy, almost
as powerful, and quite as reckless and godless, as the old one.
Another William, William of Poitiers and Aquitaine, came to the help
of William of Normandy and England.[612] He was in the end to go to
the crusade――to go not exactly in the guise of Godfrey or Helias.[613]
But he had not yet set out; and, before he went, he came to strike a
blow on behalf of the prince to whom he was said to have sold the
reversion of his dominions. The mighty dukes of the North and the
South might seem to have utterly hemmed in the smaller realm of the
king whose men they were or should have been.[614] The final results
of their alliance were not memorable, but the coming of the southern
duke had the immediate effect of carrying the war into districts
little used to the presence of English or even of Norman warriors.
[Sidenote: Campaign to the west of Paris.]
[Sidenote: Valley of the Maudre.
[Sidenote: Maule.]
[Sidenote: Montfort-l’Amaury.]
[Sidenote: Neauphlé-le-Château.]
[Sidenote: Epernon.]
[Sidenote: The two Williams march against the Montfort castles.]
[Sidenote: Seat of war affected by the coming of William of Poitiers.]
It can hardly fail to have been the march of William of Aquitaine
which led to a campaign carried on in the lands west and south-west of
Paris, within the triangle which may be drawn between the three points
of Mantes, Paris, and Chartres. One side of this triangle is formed by
the Seine itself, and here the adhesion of the Count of Meulan must
have effectually guarded the seat of war from the north. Somewhat to
the west of Meulan, between that fortress and Mantes, the small stream
of the Maudre empties itself into the Seine. The course of this stream
and the valley through which it flows formed the chief seat of warfare
at this stage, seemingly after the attacks on Chaumont had proved
fruitless. Small as the Maudre is, its course makes a clearly marked
valley, running nearly north and south. About the middle of it lies
Maule, the fortress of Peter of Maule, the benefactor of the house of
Saint Evroul, and therefore high in favour with its historian. Further
to the south, where the stream is a mere brook, the valley widens into
a plain between hills, and here some of the strongest points are
occupied by the strongholds of the French house of Montfort, numbering
among them the spot which gave that house its ever-memorable name.
Here rose the hill which above all others glories in the name of the
Strong Mount, the home of the Simons and the Amalrics. Under the name
of Montfort-l’Amaury it still keeps the less illustrious of the two
names, one or other of which was always borne by its successive
counts. To the north-east of the cradle of their race, on the other
side of the Maudre, the Counts of Montfort had planted another
stronghold on a height, which, though all traces of a fortress have
passed away, still keeps the name of Neauphlé-_le-Château_, as
distinguished from another place of the same name, Neauphlé-_le-Vieux_.
Much further to the south-west, on the upper course of the Drouelle, a
tributary of the Eure, stood Epernon, another fortress of the house of
Montfort, a border fortress of the strictly French territory towards
the lands of the Counts of Chartres. On this district now fell the
heavy wrath of the two Williams, who led a mighty multitude against
Montfort and Epernon and laid waste the whole surrounding land. They
had traitors in their service; they came under the guidance of Almaric
the Young and of Nivard of Septeuil.[615] This last place lies in the
valley of the Vaucouleurs, a stream running almost parallel with the
Maudre and joining the Seine at Mantes. Such a position, lying nearly
due west from Maule, and at a greater distance north-east from
Montfort, marks a dangerous outpost thrown out from the Norman side
into the heart of the French territory. Of the line of march of the
Poitevin duke we have no account; but it must have been his coming
which caused the seat of war to be changed from the north-west of the
threatened capital of France to the south-west, a region so much
better suited for an invader from the south.
[Sidenote: No special mention of Lewis.]
[Sidenote: The castles resist singly.]
[Sidenote: Peter of Maule.]
[Sidenote: The two Simons of Montfort.]
[Sidenote: The elder Simon defends Neauphlé.]
[Sidenote: The castle of Montfort.]
[Sidenote: The church.]
[Sidenote: Defence of the younger Simon.]
[Sidenote: Interest of the defence.]
It is somewhat singular that, while we have so striking a general
picture of the courage and conduct of the young Lewis during this
struggle, we hear nothing of any particular exploit of his, we hear
nothing of any help given by him to any of the threatened fortresses.
It is their own lords, each for himself, who withstand, and
successfully withstand, the attacks of the powers of North and South.
Our chief informant――English, Norman, and French, all at
once――enlarges on the failure of Philip to give any help to his
vassals; but we should never learn from him that his place was
supplied by his son.[616] Every man, it would seem, fought for his own
hand. We are told this of a crowd of unnamed lords defending unnamed
fortresses. But we are not left to guess at the name of the friend of
Saint Evroul, Peter of Maule, who, with his sons Ansold and Theobald,
successfully defended his fortress in the valley of the Maudre.[617]
We must suppose that the forces of the two Williams were scattered and
frittered away in a series of desultory attacks against strongholds
scattered all over the country. But to us at least the main interest
of the campaign gathers round the dwellings of the house of Montfort.
We should be well pleased to have even such details of a warfare which
affected them as we have had of the sieges of Chaumont and as we shall
presently have of the siege of Mayet. But we hear only of the result,
how the arms of the two Simons, elder and younger, defended all the
possessions which looked up to the Strong Mount as their head. The
elder guarded the height of Neauphlé, where a curve in the hills,
theatre-shape, awakens some faint remembrance of the kingly mount of
Laon.[618] But the _Mons fortis_ itself, the hill from whence, in
after times, Simon the father went to work the bondage of Toulouse and
Simon the son to work the freedom of England, must have been among the
strongholds which were saved by the energy of the younger bearer of
the name which was to be so fearfully and so gloriously renowned. High
on its peninsular hill, still keeping some small traces of elder
towers along with one graceful fragment of far later days, the castle
of Montfort looks down over church and town, over hills and plains,
bidding defiance to foes on every side, but bidding the most direct
defiance of all to any foe who should advance by the path which must
have been trodden by the Aquitanian duke. For of all the outlooks from
the height of Montfort the widest and the most striking is that by
which the eye looks out towards those southern lands which came so
near to forming a South-Gaulish realm for its own lords. The church
stands beneath on a lower point of the steep. The works of later
times, which have filled its windows with the painted forms of the
basest of the later Valois, have spared one side of the more ancient
central tower, preserving to us forms which were looked on, not indeed
by the Simons of our own immediate story, but by the Simon of Muret
and the Simon of Evesham. A gate at the base of the castle mound,
though the actual building must be of later date, still keeps the name
of that Hugh Bardolf, himself joined by a tie of affinity to the house
of Montfort, of whom we have heard elsewhere as one of the most
abiding of the enemies of Normandy.[619] Here, while the father
defended Neauphlé, the son defended the cradle of their race, and
their other outlying possessions. Not a detail is given us; but our
historian emphatically tells us that it was by the help of God that
the lords of Montfort kept their fortresses safe from the twofold
enemy.[620] And, though a King of the English marched against them,
though doubtless there was no lack of native English warriors in his
train, yet we may join in the pious thankfulness of our guide at Saint
Evroul. It was not good for English interests in any wide or lasting
sense that the sovereign of England should even hold his ancestral
Normandy, much less that he should inherit Aquitaine and conquer
France. When the lords of Montfort in the eleventh century beat back
from their strongholds all the efforts of England and Normandy, of
Poitiers and Aquitaine, they were in truth working in the same cause
as their glorious descendant in the thirteenth. Unknowingly and
indirectly, they were, no less than he, fighting for the freedom and
the greatness of what in their eyes seemed hostile England.
[Sidenote: The war lingers on.]
[Sidenote: Christmas, 1098.]
[Sidenote: No successes of the two Williams.]
[Sidenote: A truce agreed to.]
The war seems to have lingered on through another winter, the second
of those when King William kept his Christmas feast in Normandy. But
no successes are recorded either of William of England or of William
of Aquitaine. The Red King had really done nothing, either alone or in
company with his Poitevin ally. The gallant resistance of the men of
the French borderland had beaten him back at every point. He was now
glad to conclude a truce, which the events which followed made
practically a peace.[621]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Survey of the French war. Its ill-success.]
[Sidenote: Illustration of William’s character.]
It is not at first easy to understand why so very little came of such
great preparations as those which William Rufus made for the French
war. The strength of two great states, during the later stages of the
war the strength of three great states, was broken by efforts which,
even allowing as much as we can for the energy of young Lewis, were
mainly those of the nobles and people of a single district. England,
Normandy, and Aquitaine, were baffled by the men of the French Vexin.
It is true indeed that the war of Maine was far from being really
ended, but Rufus seems at this stage to have thought little of the
efforts of the man whom he had bidden to do his worst against him. Nor
was there anything this year in England, as there was the year before,
to draw off the King’s attention from continental affairs. Scotland
was quiet under a king of his own naming; Magnus did not really
threaten England; the Welsh border might be left to Robert of Bellême
or those whom he had left in charge. All that we can do is to record
this singular break-down of a great force, without being able fully to
explain it. One remark may be made. Men of the temper of Rufus often
get simply weary of undertakings which bring little success, and in
which there is nothing to call forth any special point of personal
vengeance or personal honour. Rufus claimed the Vexin; but his heart
does not seem to have been set on its possession, as it clearly was
set on the possession of Le Mans. There was no one on the French
border who had stung him personally to the quick as Helias had done.
The want of success in the joint undertaking of the two Williams is
certainly hard to understand; but we can quite understand how William
of England and Normandy might, in sheer disgust, throw up an
undertaking in which he did not at once succeed. When he was once more
wounded in the most sensitive part, he was, as we shall presently see,
all himself again.
§ 4. _The Gemót of 1099._
[Sidenote: William keeps Christmas in Normandy. 1098-1099.]
[Sidenote: Easter Gemót. April 10, 1099.]
[Sidenote: Whitsun Gemót in the new hall at Westminster. May 10, 1099.]
William, master of Le Mans, but hardly to be called master of Maine,
and assuredly not master of the Vexin, stayed in Normandy during the
winter which followed the double war in those regions. The time of his
absence is spoken of as a time of special oppression in England, a
time when the exactions of Flambard and his fellows grew worse and
worse, on account of the great sums which had to be sent over the sea
for the King’s wars.[622] The Christmas feast was again kept in
Normandy, in what city or castle we are not told, but such incidental
notices as we have seem to point to Rouen as his usual head-quarters
when he was in the duchy. He came back to England in time for the
Easter feast; the feast implies the assembly; but we have no account
of its doings; there was no longer in England either an Anselm to
afford subjects for discussion or an Eadmer to report the debates. The
next festival was of greater importance, if only on account of the
place where it was held, a place ever-memorable in the history of
England from that day to this. “At Pentecost the King William held his
court for the first time in the new building at Westminster.”[623]
[Sidenote: Buildings of William Rufus.]
[Sidenote: They are reckoned among national grievances.]
[Sidenote: Various grievances.]
[Sidenote: Complaints in 1096,]
[Sidenote: in 1097.]
[Sidenote: Signs and wonders in 1098.]
[Sidenote: Bad weather of 1098.]
[Sidenote: The great buildings in London. 1097.]
The architectural works of William Rufus form a marked feature in his
reign; but the place which they hold in the national annals is
singular. They are set down among the grievances of that unhappy time.
Besides the bad weather, which was not the Red King’s fault, and the
bad harvests which were deemed to be in some measure his fault, there
were the unrighteous taxes and the other forms of unlaw which were
directly his fault; lastly there were the great buildings which are
set down as not the least among his ways of oppressing the people. We
have heard some of the wails which the Chronicler sends up year by
year. The year of the purchase of Normandy was a year when the land
was pressed down by manifold gelds and by a heavy time of hunger.[624]
The next year, the year of Anselm’s going, was a year of signs in the
heavens, and of _ungelds_ and _unweather_ below.[625] The next year,
the year of Maine, the year of the Vexin, the year of Anglesey, had
also its physical wonders. In the summer a pool at Finchampstead in
Berkshire was said to have welled up blood.[626] At Michaelmas the
heaven seemed well-nigh all night as if it were burning.[627] That was
a very grievous year, through manifold _ungeld_ and through mickle
rains that all the year never stopped; and――what came home to
those who could look back to the bright days of the Golden
Borough――well-nigh all tilth in the marsh-land died out.[628] Such are
the mournful voices to which we listen year by year; but in the
central year of the three another grievance is added. “Eke many shires
that with work to London belonged were sorely harassed through the
wall that they wrought around the Tower, and through the bridge that
well nigh all flooded away was, and through the King’s hall-work that
man in Westminster wrought, and many men therewith harassed.”[629]
[Sidenote: Earlier parallels.]
[Sidenote: Abuse of the old law.]
[Sidenote: The bridge and the Tower.]
[Sidenote: Question as to the hall.]
This was the light in which three great works of building on which
Englishmen of later days learned to look with national pride were
looked on by the men of the time when they were wrought. We hear the
cry of the Hebrew in the brick-field toiling to rear up the
treasure-cities of the Pharaohs. We hear the cry of the Roman
plebeian, as the proud Tarquin constrained him to give the sweat of
his brow to fence in the seven hills with walls or to burrow beneath
the ground to lay the foundations and turn the arches of the great
sewer.[630] So it was in the days of the Red King with the Tower of
London, the bridge of London, the hall of Westminster. We may believe
that, as so often happened, the old law of England was turned to
purposes of oppression. The repair of bridges and fortresses was the
universal burthen on the Englishman’s _eðel_, the duty which he owed,
not to a personal lord, but to the commonwealth of which he was a
member.[631] In one case at least we know that the defences of the
local capital were laid by local law upon the people of the whole
shire.[632] What was law at Chester would seem from the words of the
Chronicler to have been law in London also. There were certain “shires
that with work to London belonged.” William Rufus may therefore have
been quite within the letter of the ancient law in calling on the
people of certain shires to contribute in money or labour to any works
which were needed for either the Tower or the bridge of London. But it
is clear that this is the kind of law which opens the way to a great
amount of oppression in detail, and that the law itself supplies
temptations to extort more than the law gives. The bridge at least was
an useful work, and if the men of London thought that the Tower stood
by their walls rather to overawe them than to defend them, that was an
argument which could not be openly brought forward. But it is by no
means clear whether the ancient law about bridges and fortresses could
be stretched so as to take in works at the King’s palace. Anyhow the
burthen laid on the people was frightfully oppressive, and those who
felt the burthen bitterly complained. And, if we rightly understand
the Chronicler, the grievance of building the bridge was doubled by a
flood which swept away the unfinished work, and made it needful to
build it over again.[633]
[Sidenote: Growth of the greatness of London.]
[Sidenote: Relations of London and Winchester.]
Thus, amid the toils and groans of the people, three mighty works
arose, to hand down the name of William Rufus to after ages as a great
builder. While Rufus was harrying the land of Maine, a land which but
for him might have remained peaceful and happy under a righteous
ruler, while he was striving in vain to bring the heights of Chaumont
and Montfort under his power, the people of a large part of England
were giving their strength and their money to make London put on a new
face, to make all things ready for the time when the King should again
come to his island kingdom to wear his crown in or hard by its
greatest city. All these works point, among other things, to the
steady growth of the greatness of London. The city had grown fast in
importance during the whole century which was now drawing to an end,
and at no time faster than during Harold’s nine months of little
stillness.[634] London had become the city of the King; Winchester was
left to be the city of the Old Lady.[635] The attractions of the New
Forest drew the Conqueror, specially after the death of Eadgyth, back
again to the old West-Saxon capital; but this preference of Winchester
as the head-quarters of sport in no way checked the advance of London
as the real head of the kingdom. Harsh as may have been the means by
which the Red King raised his great buildings, richly as he and they
may have earned the curses of his subjects at the time, we can say
nothing against either the taste or the policy which led him to the
defence and the adornment of the great city and of the palace which
lay under its shadow.
[Sidenote: The wall round the Tower.]
[Sidenote: London Bridge.]
[Sidenote: Westminster Hall.]
[Sidenote: Its two founders.]
[Sidenote: Its architecture.]
[Sidenote: Recasting by Richard the Second.]
[Sidenote: Legal position of the reign of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: History of the hall.]
Notwithstanding any momentary checks, the works went on and prospered.
The great tower of Gundulf――strange work for the meek follower of
Anselm――was fenced in with a surrounding wall. The river was spanned
by its first stone bridge, that long range of narrow arches, itself a
thickly-peopled city over the stream, of which the last traces
vanished in our own early days. But above all there now arose that
famous hall of Westminster whose name has come to be another name for
the law of England. Strange founder for such a pile might seem the
prince whose reign was before all others the reign of unlaw. And yet
it was not wholly unfitting that the Prytaneion of England should
first arise at the bidding of William the Red, and should take a new
form at the bidding of a later king in whose days unlaw was again
mighty. The great hall arose at the bidding of Rufus, in the stern and
solemn form of the art of his day――the day, be it remembered, of
William of Saint-Calais and the choir of Durham――with its low massive
walls, its two ranges of pillars and arches, far removed, we may be
sure, from the graceful forms which had been at Spalato and which were
to be again at Oakham, but standing firm in their strength, bearing
the full impress of the style whose leading feature is that of simple,
changeless, abiding, rest.[636] At the bidding of Richard of Bourdeaux
the walls were cased, and pierced with windows of forms unknown in the
days of the Red King; his pillars and arches were swept away; the
central space and its aisles were thrown into a single body; the
timber roof of wondrous span and wondrous workmanship leaped boldly
from wall to wall, with a daring which might have pleased the swelling
pride of Rufus himself. Thus, at the word of two despotic kings, arose
the pile which may claim, no less than its neighbours, Saint Peter’s
chapter-house and Saint Stephen’s chapel, to be the chosen home of
English freedom. For in England law has ever grown out of unlaw. The
despotism of Normans and of Tudors only paved the way for the
outbursts of freedom in the thirteenth century and in the seventeenth;
a reforming Henry dogged the steps alike of Rufus and of Richard. And
if from one side the reign of Rufus was a reign of unlaw, from another
side it was a reign of overmuch law. It saw the beginning of those
legal subtleties, that web woven by the wicked skill of Flambard,
which makes the Red King’s day a marked epoch in legal history. His
reign bridges the space between the days when we had laws but when we
had no lawyers, and the days when lawyers had grown so many and so
subtle that the true ends of law were sometimes forgotten among them.
If from one side the hall of Westminster has been one of the cradles
of English freedom, from another side it has been the special home of
that form of unlaw by which men have been sent to a wrongful doom
under the outward forms of justice. Of all that is good and bad in the
history of the law of England the hall of Rufus is the material
embodying. Within no other building reared by the hand of man has so
great a share of English history been wrought.
[Sidenote: Object of the hall.]
[Sidenote: Personal pride of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Legends of the hall.]
[Sidenote: Alleged sayings of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: The Whitsun feast.]
[Sidenote: The sword borne by the King of Scots.]
But it was not directly as the dwelling-place either of law or of its
opposite that Rufus first reared his hall. It was built rather as a
trophy of his own swelling pride. The home of the Confessor, the home
of the Conqueror, was not stately enough for the Red King. He would be
lodged, at least in that special home of kingship, as better became
the idea which he had formed of his own greatness. It was the hall of
the king, rather than the hall of the kingdom, the centre and crown of
his own house, the place for the display of his own splendour, which
Rufus sought to call into being. When the work was done, other men
deemed that it was as great, perhaps greater, than even so great a
king could need. But its founder was not satisfied. Nero, when he had
finished his Golden House, allowed that he was at last lodged like a
man. Rufus, when he had outdone the works of all that had gone before
him, hardly deemed that he was lodged like a man in his palace of
Westminster. The new hall, when it was done, was not half so great as
he had meant it to be.[637] Some add a wilder saying, that he would
build a house on such a scale that the great hall should be but one of
its bed-chambers.[638] But the hall, such as it was, vast in the eyes
of other men, small in the eyes of its master, was ready for use by
the day of the Pentecostal feast. Then the assembly came together;
then the accustomed rites were gone through in the West Minster; then
the banquet and the council were held, as was wont, under its shadow,
in the accustomed place, but within new walls and under a new roof.
Within those walls, beneath that roof, men for the first time saw King
William of England, lord, as he deemed, of Scotland, Normandy, and
Maine, in all his own greatness and glory, in all the greatness and
glory of his new work. One feature in that great gathering might
indeed have helped to swell his heart even higher than it had ever
before been swollen. The crown was, as usual, placed on his head in
the minster and worn in the hall. And on that day at least he must
have felt that the crown which was placed on his head was in truth an
imperial diadem. William the Red was not indeed rowed on the Thames by
vassal kings, like Eadgar the Giver-of-peace. But in the pomps of that
day he saw a king march before him as his vassal, a king who had
received his crown at his own bidding. When King William of England
wore his _cynehelm_ in church and hall, King Eadgar of Scotland, first
of his men in rank and honour, bore the sword of state before his
lord.[639] Was that day of pride and pomp merely a day of pride and
pomp, or were any of the great affairs of William’s kingdom and empire
dealt with in the joint presence of the Monarch of Britain and his
kingly vassal? One thing only we know; one act alone of that gathering
is recorded. But that act is one which has no small fitness as the one
act which we know that the Red King did in his new building.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Deaths of bishops and abbots.]
[Sidenote: Walkelin of Winchester. January 3, 1098.]
[Sidenote: Character and acts of Walkelin.]
[Sidenote: The monks take possession of Walkelin’s church.
April 8, 1093.]
[Sidenote: Walkelin joint-regent with Flambard. 1097.]
[Sidenote: The King’s demand for money. Christmas, 1097-1098.]
The hands of Randolf Flambard must have been just then full of work,
and the coffers of King William must have been just then well filled
with wealth flowing in from the usual sources. Bishops and abbots had
for some time been dying most conveniently for the King and his
minister. Within the first few days of the year of Le Mans and
Chaumont died the friend, some said the kinsman, of the Conqueror, the
Norman Walkelin, the successor of English Stigand in the see of
Winchester.[640] Though he had appeared as an adversary of
Anselm,[641] though he had once designed to supplant the monks of the
Old Minster by secular canons,[642] though he was said to have
lessened the revenues of the monks to increase those of the
bishopric,[643] he still left behind him a good name in the monastic
annals of his church, both for the austerity of his own life and for
the affection which he afterwards learned to show to the
brethren.[644] Winchester tradition loved to tell of the pious fraud
by which he had cajoled the Conqueror out of the whole timber of a
great wood towards the rebuilding of his church.[645] It told how, in
the year of the King’s temporary penitence, the monks had, in the
presence of well-nigh all the prelacy of England, taken possession of
the church of Walkelin’s building, and how they had presently gone on
to rase to the ground the church of Æthelwald which had been deemed so
stately a pile not much more than a hundred years before.[646] It told
how, when the King set forth for the French war, the Bishop of
Winchester was left as joint-ruler of the realm with the mighty
chaplain and Justiciar.[647] And it told the last tale, how, when he
had barely entered on his new office, on the very Christmas morning,
while the holiest rite of Christian worship was going on, the King’s
messenger came to demand two hundred pounds without delay. The Bishop,
like Anselm, knew that he could raise no such sum without robbery of
the Church and oppression of the poor. He prayed that he might be set
free from a world of which he was weary. Two days later his prayer was
answered; while the Red King warred at Chaumont and Mayet, Randolf
Flambard remained sole ruler of England.[648]
[Sidenote: Death of Turold of Peterborough,]
[Sidenote: and of Robert of New Minster.]
[Sidenote: Death of Baldwin of Saint Eadmund’s. December 29, 1097.]
[Sidenote: Acts of Baldwin.]
[Sidenote: Rebuilding of the Church.]
[Sidenote: Miracles of Saint Eadmund.]
[Sidenote: Osgod Clapa.]
[Sidenote: Bishop Herfast.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Curzon.]
[Sidenote: Completion of the Church. 1094.]
[Sidenote: The King forbids the dedication.]
[Sidenote: Translation of Saint Eadmund. April 30, 1095.]
[Sidenote: Baldwin’s relation to the English.]
On the death of Bishop Walkelin presently followed the deaths of two
other heads of great monastic bodies. One was Turold, the martial
abbot of Peterborough, of whom we heard in the days of Hereward;[649]
the other was Robert of New Minster, he whose staff had been bought
for him by his too dutiful son the Bishop of Norwich.[650] And, a few
days before the death of Walkelin, another great abbot passed away who
was, in a way in which none of those three was, a link with earlier
days. Abbot Baldwin of Saint Eadmund’s, the skilful leech of King
Eadward, if not himself of English birth, had at least received his
staff from an English King. His house had been growing in wealth and
fame ever since the penitent devotion of Cnut had changed the secular
canons of Beadricsworth into the monks of Saint Eadmund’s. We have
already heard of Baldwin’s medical skill and of his strivings for the
privileges of his church against the East-Anglian bishopric.[651] He
won fame also, like other abbots of his day, as the rebuilder of his
church, the church which, besides his royal patron, sheltered the
relics of the holy abbot Botolf and the valiant ætheling Jurwine.[652]
The latest research has added largely to our knowledge of Baldwin and
his house, and has brought to light several details which illustrate
the reign of the Red King and the characters of some of the chief
actors in it. Saint Eadmund had long ago begun to work signs and
wonders. In King Eadward’s day he had avenged himself on our old
friend Osgod Clapa, reverenced at Waltham but not reverenced at Saint
Eadmund’s, because he had thrust himself into the holy place with his
Danish axe in warlike guise on his shoulder.[653] In the days of the
elder William, when the dispute was going on between the abbey and the
bishopric, the saint had directly interfered to bring Bishop Herfast
to a better mind by a bodily chastisement.[654] He had even appeared,
as he had done to the tyrant Swegen,[655] mounted and lance in hand,
to smite, and in smiting to reform, a courtier of the Conqueror’s,
Randolf by name.[656] But we are more concerned with stories which
directly bear on our own history. When Roger Bigod did so much evil in
eastern England in the days of the general rebellion, Saint Eadmund
did not fail to defend his own lands, and to smite with madness a
certain Robert of Curzon to whom the rebel had presumed to grant a
manor belonging to the abbey.[657] We read too how, when the new
church was finished, King William, seemingly in the assembly at
Hastings, by what caprice is not explained, gave permission for the
translation of the martyr, but forbade the dedication of the
church.[658] Meanwhile, a rumour, of which we have heard the like more
than once, is spread abroad that the body of Saint Eadmund is not
really there, and that the precious things which adorned the empty
shrine might well be applied to the objects of the King’s warfare. The
danger passed away, and, notwithstanding some opposition from Bishop
Herbert, a solemn translation, in the presence of Bishop Walkelin of
Winchester and of Randolf the chaplain, removed all doubts.[659] Abbot
Baldwin survived this triumph two years and a half. His career had
been a long and a busy one. In the course of his warfare with the
East-Anglian bishops, he had found it needful to visit Rome, and he
too, like others, found how great was the strength of gold and silver
at the threshold of the Apostles.[660] He had gone on that journey
with English companions, and when he died, during the Christmas feast
which followed the departure of Anselm, he was mourned by men of both
races.[661]
[Sidenote: Vacancy of Durham.]
[Sidenote: The bishopric granted to Flambard.]
[Sidenote: Consecration of Flambard. June 5, 1099.]
We cannot, as these stories alone show, go very far in the reign of
Rufus without coming across the name of Randolf Flambard, chaplain and
Justiciar. We are now about to hear of him in a new character. The
churches of the prelates who so opportunely died, remained unfilled;
their temporalities passed into the King’s hands; their revenues were
to be gathered in, their tenants were to be squeezed as might be
needful, by the zealous care of the faithful Randolf. But one church,
of higher dignity than all these, which had stood vacant longer than
all these, was at last to have a shepherd. The careful guardian of
them all was at last to have his reward. The reward was a great one,
but in the course of his long service he had doubtless gathered enough
into his private hoard to pay the price even for such a gift. The hall
was built; the Witan were assembled in it; and, as the one recorded
act of the assembly, the King gave the bishopric of Durham to Randolf
his chaplain, that ere drave all his gemóts over all England.[662] In
the new hall of Westminster, the hall of justice, often the hall of
injustice, the man who had wrought so much of real injustice, but who
had raised the name of justice, in its official meaning, to the high
place which it has ever after kept――the Justiciar Randolf Flambard,
the founder of the greatness of his office, the creator of the feudal
law of England――received one of the greatest of the prizes to which
men of his class could look forward. The driver of gemóts, the
_exactor_ of the moneys of rich and poor, became, not only lord of
strong castles and of barons and knights not a few, but also shepherd
of souls in a great diocese, abbot of monks in a monastery too young
as yet to have wholly lost its first love. The new successor of Saint
Cuthberht, Randolf Bishop of Durham, was presently consecrated in
Saint Paul’s minster by his metropolitan Archbishop Thomas. But the
local patriotism of Durham takes care to put on record that, as his
predecessor William of Saint-Calais had made no profession, so neither
did he.[663]
[Sidenote: Character of the appointment.]
[Sidenote: Flambard’s episcopate. 1099-1128.]
[Sidenote: His works at Durham.]
[Sidenote: The castle of Norham. 1121.]
[Sidenote: His personal character.]
[Sidenote: 1106?-1128.]
The appointment of Randolf Flambard to a great bishopric, as it is the
last recorded kingly act of Rufus in England, was the crowning act of
that abuse of the royal power in ecclesiastical matters, that bringing
low of the Church and her ministers, which is so marked a feature of
his reign.[664] To place the bishop’s staff in the hands of Randolf
Flambard was going a step further than to place it in the hands of
Robert Bloet. Yet Flambard showed himself in some ways, in all
temporal ways, as a great prelate. A mighty builder, he joined his
efforts with those of his monks to carry on Saint Cuthberht’s abbey on
a plan as noble as that on which William of Saint-Calais had begun it,
and with greater richness of detail.[665] He strengthened the
fortifications of his castle and city; he laid out the green between
the castle and the abbey. At the extreme border of what was now the
English kingdom, not on the extreme border of his own diocese, he
founded the famous castle of Norham. It was built, we are told, as a
defence alike against border thieves and against attacks of invading
Scots.[666] But this last motive was hardly needed in the days of
Eadgar, Alexander, and David. Every temporal right of his church he
defended to the uttermost.[667] Still eager to be first, pretending
with voice and gesture more of wrath than he really felt, we see in
the mighty Bishop of Durham essentially the same man as the royal
officer who made sad the enthronization day of Anselm.[668] As to his
life and conversation strange tales are told. The Bishop is said to
have wantonly exposed his monks to temptations most contrary to
monastic rule, to have entertained them in the episcopal hall along
with guests most unbecoming for an episcopal castle, and to have
marked as hypocrites all who refused to join in his unseemly
revelries.[669] But the mass of Flambard’s doings as bishop, good or
bad, belong to the reign of Henry, to his own second episcopate. Our
own story will show him, after a short occupation of his see, an
exile, an exile after the type of William of Saint-Calais rather than
after the type of Anselm. From that exile he came back, as his
predecessor came back, to go on with his great work, to rule, with
unabated strength of mind and body, to extreme old age, and to die
with every sign of penitence.[670]
[Sidenote: Later events of the year. 1099.]
The appointment of Flambard is the last recorded act of the Red King
on English ground. We take leave of him, as far as the affairs of our
own country are concerned, in the new hall of Westminster, placing the
bishop’s staff in a hand which doubtless grasped it more readily than
the hand of Anselm. But we have still to see somewhat of him in two
other characters, in either of which he was more at home than in that
of the civil ruler. We have to look at him as the hunter and as the
warrior. From the great ceremony at Westminster he seems to have
straightway taken himself to enjoy the sports of the woods in
Wiltshire. The prince who ruled on both sides of the channel had come
back to his island realm to busy himself both with English affairs and
with English pleasures. While thus engaged, his thoughts were once
more suddenly called to matters beyond the sea.
§ 5. _The Second War of Maine._
_April-September 1099._
[Sidenote: Action of Helias. August, 1098-April 1099.]
[Sidenote: August, 1098.]
[Sidenote: Helias withdraws to La Flèche.]
[Sidenote: He strengthens the castles on the Loir.]
[Sidenote: La Chartre.]
[Sidenote: La Flèche.]
[Sidenote: Château-du-Loir.]
[Sidenote: Preparations of Helias. August 1098-April 1099.]
[Sidenote: April 10, 1099.]
In the August of the last year William had given Helias of Maine his
full leave to do what he could against him, reserving doubtless to
himself the like power to do what he could against Helias. In the
months which had since passed the Count of Maine had shown that he
could do a good deal; but it seemingly was not till he had shown the
full range of his powers of doing that the King felt himself called on
once more to try his own powers against him. William did not stir
himself till the news came that Helias was again in Le Mans, and then
he stirred himself indeed. Helias, when he was set free in August,
went at once to his own immediate possessions on the border of Maine
and Anjou. If he was no longer Count of Maine, he was still lord of La
Flèche. If he could no longer reign on the Cenomannian height, in the
palace on the Roman wall or in the tower before whose rising strength
the Roman wall itself had given way, he could at least keep his own
native town and castle. At La Flèche, and in the whole southern part
of the county, Helias still reigned, undisputed and unthreatened. He
was still lord of the whole line of fortresses which guarded the
course of the Loir, the tributary of the greater stream with which its
name is so easily confounded. The castles along that river, reared
doubtless to guard the Cenomannian border against attacks from the
south, served, now that things had so strangely turned about, to
protect the southern districts of Maine against attacks from its own
capital. In front of the land to be guarded stood the castles of Mayet
and Outillé. Along the Loir itself stood a formidable line of
defences; La Chartre guarded one end, La Flèche the other; between
them lay La Lude and the fortress which is still specially known as
the Castle of the Loir. The stream flows below the hill-fort of La
Chartre, once held by Geoffrey of Mayenne,[671] but the name of this
castle is not mentioned in our present story. The omission is
singular, as La Chartre must always have been a post of special
importance, guarding Maine towards the land of Chartres as well as
towards the now Angevin land of Tours. It rises, like Bellême and
Saint Cenery, on the bluff of a promontory where two mounds with their
fosses mark the site of the fortress, and where the rocky sides of the
hill are pierced, like the hill of Nottingham, like so many hills
along the greater Loire, with the dwelling-places of man. Much lower
down the Loir is Helias’ own special home of La Flèche, where all
traces of his day have vanished, but where the castle of John and
Paula must have stood, on a site most unlike that of La Chartre, on
one of the rich and grassy islands which are there formed by the
branching of the stream. Château-du-Loir lies between the two, and the
river from which it takes its name is a far less prominent feature
there than at either La Flèche or La Chartre. The fortress which is
specially called the Castle of the Loir stands at a greater distance
from its waters than either of the other two. But of the stronghold
itself it has more to show than either. The castle stands half-hidden
in the midst of the small modern town, and the approaches to it have
been carefully defaced and levelled. But the stump of a tower of
irregular shape still remains, which may well be a fragment of the
stronghold of Helias; the neighbouring church too still keeps under
its choir a crypt which must be far older than his day. Still in
possession of a considerable part of his dominions, master of a
district so strongly guarded, the undisputed lord of La Flèche began
to make everything ready for a campaign which might make him once more
Count of Le Mans. From August till April, Helias kept within his own
lands――like a bull in the hiding-places of the woods, says the local
writer[672]――strengthening his own fortresses and making alliances
wherever he could. The whole line of castles, together with the
fortified villages in the neighbourhood, had by Easter-tide been made
ready for defence against the attacks of any enemy.[673]
[Sidenote: Helias begins operations.]
[Sidenote: He marches against Le Mans. June, 1099.]
[Sidenote: Junction of Sarthe and Huisne.]
[Sidenote: Battle at Pontlieue.]
[Sidenote: Victory of Helias; he recovers Le Mans.]
Helias now deemed that the time was come for offensive operations
against the invaders of Maine. He began to attack the posts which were
occupied by the King’s forces, and to lay waste the lands in their
possession. In this work he was secretly favoured by the people of the
country,[674] and before long a large body of his friends and
neighbours had openly joined his banner. In June he set forth at the
head of a great force for an enterprise against the city itself.[675]
We should like to know what, in such a case, was deemed a great force;
but we may suspect that the following of Helias would largely consist
of irregular levies, not well fitted, unless with the advantage of
very superior numbers, to measure themselves with the picked and tried
mercenaries of Rufus. The army marched northwards towards Le Mans. A
little to the south-west of the city the Sarthe is joined by the
Huisne, the stream which, with its tributaries, waters the whole
north-eastern part of Maine. The river is at this point shallow and
weedy, with woody banks and small islands in its bed. Two old lines of
road lead from the south towards the lower course of the Huisne. One
leads towards the bridge of Pontlieue, a bridge which has a history in
modern times.[676] The other leads to a ford less than a mile lower
down the stream, now known as the ford of Mauny. One of our accounts
distinctly makes Helias cross by a ford; the other seems less
distinctly to imply that he crossed by a bridge.[677] At any rate he
crossed in this quarter, immediately south of Le Mans. He challenged
the King’s troops in the city to come forth. The challenge was
accepted, and a battle followed on the ground between the Huisne and
the city. Pontlieue may now pass as a suburb of Le Mans, and not its
least busy suburb. In those days the flat ground was doubtless all
open; the hospital reared by Henry the Second in the neighbourhood of
his native city must have been placed there as in a rural retreat. The
fight was stout; the King’s troops fought valiantly; but they were put
to flight by the greater numbers of the liberating host. The beaten
garrison sought shelter in the city; fliers and pursuers streamed in
together; the gates could not be shut; Count Helias was again in Le
Mans at the head of a conquering army.[678]
[Sidenote: Joy of the citizens.]
[Sidenote: The castles still held for Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Comparison with the deliverance of York in 1069.]
[Sidenote: The Normans set fire to the city.]
[Sidenote: Discouragement of the citizens.]
The joy of the citizens of Le Mans was indeed great at his
coming.[679] Their own lord, their native count, the happiness of
whose former reign they remembered in its fair contrast with the
Norman dominion, was again amongst his faithful people. The formal
welcome which had greeted the coming of Rufus was exchanged for
heartfelt delight at the coming of Helias. But there was still work to
be done. Helias was in Le Mans; but the garrison of Rufus was in Le
Mans also. The garrison had not been able to hinder the Count’s
followers from entering the city; but the Count’s followers had not
been able to hinder the garrison from securing themselves in the
fortresses of the city, in the King’s tower and in Mont-Barbet.[680]
And now the story reads almost word for word like a famous scene in
our own history just thirty years before.[681] Helias entered Le Mans
as Eadgar and Waltheof entered York. And at Le Mans, as at York, the
native deliverers occupied the city while the foreign garrison still
held the castles. The Normans at Le Mans betook themselves to the same
means of defence as the Normans at York, the familiar means of defence
of their nation. Whether he would or not, the joyous entry of Helias
was to be celebrated with the same kind of offerings as the crowning
and the churching of the Conqueror. Westminster, York, Mantes, had
felt the Norman power of destruction; the turn of Le Mans was now
come. Walter the son of Ansgar set his engineers to work, and, when
the evening came, flaming brands and hot cinders were hurled from
their engines upon the houses of the city. It was summer; all things
were dry; a strong east wind was blowing, and all Le Mans was
presently in a blaze.[682] How the great minster, so near to the
King’s tower, escaped without damage does not appear. But, as the
church stands between the castle and the main part of the city, we may
conceive that the fiery bolts launched by the engines from the tower
might fly over the roof of its nave without doing harm. In any case,
before the end of the day on which Helias entered, a large part of the
city and suburbs was burned. The true prince was again in his own
city; but he had nothing there to reign over, except smoking ruins
commanded by a hostile fortress. And we are told that the love of the
citizens for their count was somewhat lessened by this mischance of
warfare, which was surely no fault of his. We are significantly told
that they were less eager to fight for him in the evening than they
had been in the morning.[683] Wooden houses indeed could easily be
rebuilt; it may even be that that day’s fire cleared the space for
those noble domestic buildings of a little later date, some of which
the official barbarism of our own day has deigned to spare, and of
which those that still remain count among the choicest treasures of Le
Mans.[684] But at the moment the effect must have been disheartening,
and the change in the feelings of the people is in no way wonderful.
[Sidenote: Operation against the castles.]
[Sidenote: The castles besieged in vain.]
[Sidenote: Question of the church towers.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême strengthens Ballon.]
At Le Mans, as at York in the like case, the business of the moment
was the assault of the castles; but at Le Mans the enterprise of the
deliverers was less fortunate than it had been at York. The citizens
of Le Mans were not, like the citizens of York, to have the pleasure
of breaking down the stronghold of the stranger. Helias himself, after
all, was a French prince of the eleventh century, and he would hardly
have been so ready as Waltheof was to encourage such a work. He had
never, during his earlier reign, thought of playing Timoleôn in that
special fashion. But in any case the fortresses were first to be
taken. Walter the son of Ansgar seems to have been a more wary captain
than William Malet and Gilbert of Ghent. He did not risk a sally, and
Helias had not the same opportunity as Waltheof of showing his
personal prowess by cutting off Norman heads in the gate.[685] He was
driven to a formal siege of the castle. Amid the ashes of the burned
city he planted his engines to play upon the royal tower. We may
almost suspect, from a story which we shall come to presently, that
the new towers of Saint Julian’s were profaned to warlike uses, and
were made, as they well might be, to play a part in the attack. But in
any case the attack was in vain. The strength of the fortresses, the
skill with which their defenders brought engines to answer engines,
were too great for all the battering-works of Helias.[686] The King’s
tower and Mont Barbet both held out, and Robert of Bellême took the
further precaution of strengthening the defences of Ballon.[687]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The news sent to the King.]
[Sidenote: The news brought to him in the New Forest.]
But it was not enough for the garrisons to hold out. They served a
master beyond the sea; and that master had yet to learn either that
they were holding out or that there was any enemy for them to hold out
against. We are in this story doubtless dealing with the work of a
very few days. The fight by the ford, the entry of Helias, and the
fire, all took place on the same day. The siege of the castles would
begin at the first moment that any engines could be brought up.
Whether Helias had brought them with him, or whether he had to send
for them, we are not told. We may be sure that there was no great
delay in sending the news to the King; but the messenger did not start
till he had something more to tell than that Le Mans, or what was left
of it, was in the hands of its own count. A Norman Pheidippidês,
Amalchis by name, the special courier of Robert of Bellême, was sent
with the news.[688] He crossed the sea; he hastened to the King’s
hunting-seat of Clarendon, and met William and a party of his
favourite companions going forth to hunt in the New Forest. The King
asked the messenger what the news was. The news was speedily told; Le
Mans was taken by treason. But Amalchis could add some words of
comfort, how his own lord held Ballon, how the King’s troops in the
city, though besieged and attacked by the enemy, still held out in the
fortresses, how they were longing for the King to come in person to
their help.[689] We can hardly believe that Rufus had heard nothing of
the general movements of Helias in southern Maine; but all that had
happened since the Count set forth for Pontlieue came to his ears in a
single message.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: William rides to the coast.]
[Sidenote: He crosses to Touques.]
At the hearing of such a tale as this William the Red did not tarry.
He waited for no counsellors. His words were only, “Let us go beyond
the sea and help our friends.” When those around him bade him wait
till a force could be made ready, he answered, “I will see who will
follow me. Do you think that I shall be left without men? I know well
the youth of my lands, they will hasten to come to me, even at the
risk of shipwreck.” So saying, without following, without preparation,
he loosened his bridle, he put spurs to his horse, he rode straight to
the sea-shore at Southampton, and at once trusted himself all alone to
an old crazy ship which he found there. The sky was cloudy; the wind
was contrary; the blasts tossed up huge waves; the sailors prayed him
to wait till the winds and the waves should be more inclined to peace
and mercy. “I never heard of a king being drowned,” cried Rufus; “make
haste, loose your cables; you will see the elements join to obey me.”
He set sail, and the next morning he reached the haven of Touques,
God, we are told by the monk of Saint Evroul, being his guide.[690]
[Sidenote: Touques in Rufus’ time.]
[Sidenote: Landing of the King.]
[Sidenote: His ride to Bonneville.]
The spot where William landed must, especially at the moment of
William’s landing, have had a widely different look from that which it
bears in our own day. The river from which the town of Touques takes
its name, flowing down from Lisieux to its mouth by the modern
pleasure-town of Trouville, has had its course shifted by modern
improvements; but it has perhaps not greatly changed in width or bulk
of stream since the time of our story. Touques lies a few miles
inland; but a high tide would easily bring up the small vessels of
that day to the point which was once a busy haven, but which now
affords at the most a landing-place for barges. The single long
street, full of picturesque wooden buildings of later times, and
containing a striking disused church of the days of Rufus or his
father, now turns away from the stream, as if to show that the days of
Touques as a haven have passed away. In those days the inland port,
placed in the rich vale of the stream, under the shadow of the hills,
those to the right forming the forest-land of Touques, was a
frequented spot; and at the moment when the ship came which bore Rufus
and his fortunes, it presented a busy scene. As was usual in the
summer-tide, a crowd of persons, both clerical and lay, was gathered
at the riverside.[691] When they saw a ship coming from England, they
pressed to ask what the news might be. Specially they asked how the
King fared. And lo, the King was there as his own messenger to answer
them.[692] He returned their greetings in merry mood, and all wondered
and were glad.[693] We must remember that Normandy had better reason
to be glad at the presence of Rufus than either England or Maine. The
King landed; he sprang on the first beast that he could find, a mare
belonging to a priest, and so took the road which led towards the
south-east to the castle of Bonneville, on the slope of the hills
which overlook and guard the haven. The distance is short, and most of
it is uphill, and the speed of the priest’s mare was most likely not
equal to the speed of the King’s own horse which had borne him from
Clarendon to Southampton. A loyal crowd, clerks and peasants, were
thus able to follow him on foot, cheering their sovereign as he rode
up the hill-side to the castle.[694]
[Sidenote: The castle of Bonneville.]
[Sidenote: Early history and legends of Bonneville.]
The headlong rush by land and sea was now over, and the Red King again
found himself in one of the chief strongholds of Normandy. The castle
of Bonneville, placed, not on the top of the hill, but on a small spur
projecting from its side, was in fact the citadel of Touques. It
specially guarded the inland haven; otherwise one might rather have
looked for the site of such a fortress on the hills which overlook the
sea and guard the actual mouth of the stream. Yet from the towers of
Bonneville we look out on a wide and a goodly prospect. Almost at the
foot of the hill lies Touques itself. The river stretches away to its
mouth at Deauville; on the right the valley is fenced in by the high
ground of the forest, on the left by the hill crowned by the castle of
Lassay, famous in later times, with the small priory of Saint Arnold,
still keeping work of the Conqueror’s day, nestling on the hill-side.
But at Bonneville itself no strictly architectural work remains which
can have served the Red King as a resting-place after his fierce
journey. The existing castle, a shell-keep strengthened by round
towers, seems to be in all parts later than the days of Rufus, later
than the days of Norman independence. A single gateway only could
possibly be placed even within the latter years of the twelfth
century. But the site is an ancient one; the castle is girded by a
ditch, and the ditch is in some parts further strengthened by an
embankment, which seem more likely to have been taken advantage of by
the Norman dukes than to be their original work. Bonneville had been
one of the dwelling-places of William the Great, and it is one of the
many towns and castles which claim to have been the scene of the oath
of Harold.[695] Though the existing buildings are later, the hill
itself and its earthworks are there, as when Rufus drew breath among
them. He there rested for a moment, after being borne with the
swiftest speed of his own age from the sports of the West-Saxon forest
to the serious business which pressed on a ruler of Normandy when Le
Mans was again held by a hostile power.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: William at Bonneville.]
[Sidenote: His levy.]
[Sidenote: He marches towards Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: Helias flees to Château-du-Loir.]
The castle which Rufus had now reached, the nearest fortress in
Normandy to the spot in England from which he had so wildly rushed,
now became the starting-point of a campaign which, in its beginning,
was not unskilfully planned. At Bonneville the King began to make his
preparations for the recovery of Le Mans. He sent his messengers to
and fro, and soon gathered a large force. He then began his march
southward; he crossed the frontier, and pressed on towards Le Mans,
harrying the land as he went.[696] The effect of his coming was
immediate. When the news came that the King was on his way, the forces
of Helias began to fail him; he no longer dared to go on with the
siege of the castles; he no longer dared even to hold the city.[697]
He fled from Le Mans, and hastened to the defence of his immediate
possessions in the southern part of the county. Here he took up his
head-quarters in his own fortress specially known as the Castle of the
Loir. Within its walls the Count of Maine again waited for better
days, while the hosts of Normandy drew near to his capital.[698]
[Sidenote: Flight of the citizens.]
[Sidenote: William passes through Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: His camp beyond the Huisne.]
Meanwhile despair reigned in Le Mans. A crowd of the citizens, with
their wives and children and all that they had, followed their
prince.[699] When Rufus heard of the flight of Helias, he was still
north of Le Mans. He pressed on to overtake his enemy; he reached the
city; but, like Harold on the march to Stamfordbridge, he did not deem
it a time to tarry even a single night within its walls. And in the
mind of Rufus there was doubtless another motive at work besides
either military precaution or even simple military ardour. With him it
would be a point of honour to occupy, at the first moment that he
could, the ground on which his choice troops had been put to flight by
the hasty levies of Helias. He marched through the city, over the
battleground of Pontlieue; he crossed the bridge of the Huisne, and
pitched his camp on the broad plain[700] to the south of the stream.
He had thus passed into what might seem the immediate dominions of his
rival, as his rival had passed at the same point to attack the city
which he claimed as specially his own.
[Sidenote: He harries southern Maine.]
[Sidenote: Helias burns the castles.]
[Sidenote: Helias keeps on the defensive.]
From his camp on the left back of the Huisne Rufus began a deliberate
and fearful harrying of the whole southern part of Maine. But before
his troops could reach the strongholds of the enemy, they found the
land laid waste before them. Even two castles, those of Outillé and
Vaux-en-Belin,[701] were set fire to by the Count’s own partisans.
Robert of Montfort――the Norman Montfort――pressed on with five hundred
knights, put out the fire at Vaux, repaired the fortress, and held it
for the King.[702] Helias meanwhile was biding his time in the Castle
of the Loir. His force was still strong; but he deemed it no time for
any attack on his part. Perhaps he knew Rufus well enough to feel sure
that against him the tactics of Fabius were the tactics which were
most likely to prevail.
[Sidenote: William besieges Mayet.]
[Sidenote: Observance of the Truce of God.]
For in this campaign, exactly as in the earlier campaign in Maine and
in the campaign in the Vexin, the thing which most strikes us is the
way in which it ends, or, more truly, the way in which it comes to no
end at all. While Helias held out at Château-du-Loir, William, instead
of attacking him, laid siege to Mayet. At this last point, lying some
way north of Château-du-Loir, we find the scene of some of the most
remarkable anecdotes in our whole story, and it is here that the last
serious warfare of the Red King seems to have taken place.[703] The
siege was not a long one, and its result was strange and unexpected;
but the few days which it took are crowded with incident, and they set
William Rufus before us in more than one character. He first appears
in a mood which may be thought wholly unexpected; perhaps as touched
by devotion himself, at all events as hearkening readily to the
devotional scruples of others. The King’s host appeared before Mayet
on a Friday, and he gave orders for a general attack on the castle on
the next day.[704] The sabbath morning dawns; the warriors are vying
with one another in girding on their weapons and making ready for the
attack.[705] Then a pious scruple, a scruple which seems to have
occurred to no man on the day of Senlac, touched the hearts of some of
the elders of the host. Certain unrecorded wise men crave of the King
that, out of reverence for the Lord’s burial and resurrection, he will
spare the besieged both that day and the next, and will grant them a
truce till Monday. In other words, they demand the observance of the
Truce of God.[706] The King gives glory to God, and gives orders that
it shall be as they wish; nothing shall be done against the castle on
either Saturday or Sunday; on Monday the attack shall be made.[707]
[Sidenote: No bribery in Maine.]
[Sidenote: Preparations of the besieged.]
[Sidenote: The castle attacked on Monday.]
[Sidenote: Story of Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: Illustrations of chivalry.]
[Sidenote: The besiegers fill the ditch with wood.]
We now get a glimpse within the walls. The defenders of Mayet, we are
told, were men of proved valour and endurance, faithful to their lord
and ready to fight for him to the death.[708] It is worth notice that,
through the whole story, the Red King’s favourite arms are never heard
of within the bounds of Maine. The wealth of England, which carried
such weight within Normandy and France, which proved such an
unanswerable argument in the mind of King Philip, goes for nothing on
the banks of the Sarthe and the Loir. It seems never to enter into any
man’s mind that it was worth trying to buy over any man who owned
Helias as his lord. So now in the Red King’s camp steel lies idle on
the holy days of the older and the newer law; and gold seems to lie
idle no less. But those days were not days of idleness within the
bulwarks of Mayet. The gallant defenders of the castle were making
ready for the attack. One special means of defence was to place wicker
crates along the walls in order to break the force of the stones
hurled by the King’s artillery.[709] At last Monday came, and the
assault began. The deep and wide ditch of the castle was found to be
no small hindrance to the besiegers. A wild story is told that the
King ordered the ditch to be filled up with horses and mules, the
beasts seemingly of draught and burthen.[710] For them, as the
villains of the brute world, there was no mercy; the _destrier_ of the
knight was, in knightly hearts, entitled to some share of the respect
due to his rider. But the tale adds that Robert of Bellême, the man so
hateful in Cenomannian memory, improved on the King’s order, and bade
the ditch be filled, not only with horses, but with human villains
also.[711] Such an order would really be thoroughly in the spirit of
chivalry. It would have come well from the mouths of those French
gentlemen who called at Crecy for the slaughter of the so-called
peasants whom they had hired from Genoa.[712] But William the Red had
learned beneath the walls of Rochester what the churls of one land at
least could do, and he was not likely to carry his knightly ideal
quite so far as this. The tale, we may suspect, is a bit of local
Cenomannian romance, part of the popular tale of the devil of Mamers.
Those who tell it add that the effect of the order was to cause the
immediate flight of all the members of the despised class who were
within hearing.[713] But the most trustworthy narrative of the siege
of Mayet tells us nothing of any of these strange ways of filling up a
ditch. There we read only of vast piles of wood which were hurled into
it, and of a path raised on piles which the besiegers strove to make
level with the palisade of the castle.
[Sidenote: The besieged burn the wood.]
[Sidenote: Narrow escape of William.]
[Sidenote: William’s captains advise a retreat.]
[Sidenote: The siege raised on Tuesday.]
[Sidenote: The land ravaged.]
But the devices of the garrison of Mayet were at least equal to the
devices of their enemies. They hurled down masses of burning charcoal,
and so, by the help of the summer heat, they burned up the piles of
wood with which the besiegers were filling up the ditch.[714] All
Monday both sides strove with all their might against one another, and
the King began to be grieved and angry that all his efforts had
availed nothing.[715] While he was thus troubled in mind, a stone was
aimed at him from a lofty turret. It missed William himself, but a
warrior who stood by him was crushed to pieces by the falling
mass.[716] Then there rose a loud shout of mockery from the wall; “Lo,
the King now has fresh meat; let it be taken to the kitchen and made
ready for his supper.”[717] We might have looked to hear that for such
scorn as this the Red King vowed a vengeance like his father’s
vengeance at Alençon. But either Rufus and his counsellors were
strangely cowed, or else they were glad of any excuse to throw up an
enterprise one day of which seems to have been enough to weary them.
The lords and high captains of the King’s host impressed on their
master’s mind that the defences of Mayet were very strong, that its
defenders were very brave, that, sheltered as they were behind their
strong walls, they had a great advantage over besiegers encamped in
the open air.[718] These sound strange arguments in an age when
warfare chiefly consisted in attacking and defending strong places.
They sound strangest of all when they are addressed to a king who, so
short a time before, had taken it for granted that not only men and
walls, but the winds and the waves, would yield to his will. But the
reasoning of these prudent warriors is said to have carried conviction
to the King’s mind. Rufus saw that the best thing that he could do was
to march off while he was still safe. There were other ways besides
besieging castles by which more damage could be done to the enemy with
less risk to his own followers.[719] Orders were given to march to
Lucé with the first light of Tuesday. The host arose early, and went
on, making a fearful harrying as they went. Vines were rooted up,
fruit-trees cut down, walls and houses overthrown. The whole of that
fertile land was utterly laid waste with fire and sword.[720]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: No real success on the King’s part.]
[Sidenote: Illustration of Rufus’ character.]
[Sidenote: The campaign unfinished.]
[Sidenote: William satisfied by the recovery of Le Mans.]
This seems a somewhat paltry ending for a campaign which began with
the King’s breathless rush from the New Forest to Bonneville. Not very
much had come of the headlong ride or of the sail in the crazy ship.
William Rufus had gained no real success, military or political. He
was as far as ever from the real possession of the whole land of
Maine. He had rooted up a great many vines and cut down a great many
fruit trees; but he had neither won a battle nor taken a fortress. His
garrisons at Le Mans and at Ballon had held out; Helias had left Le
Mans open to him; at Vaux Robert of Montfort had overcome, not Helias,
but the flames. On the other hand, Helias himself was safe, in full
command of most of his southern castles; from the only one of them
which the King had actually attacked, he had turned away baffled after
one day’s fighting. In all these cases it would seem as if the fiery
impulses of Rufus soon spent themselves, as if all depended on the
first rush. If that failed, he never had perseverance to go on. In his
strangely mingled nature, he could be either a ruler or a captain when
the fit to be either took him. He had not steadiness to be either for
any long time together. Certain it is that he left all his continental
campaigns unfinished; and this one, which was begun with such a
special blaze of energy, was left more utterly unfinished than any of
the others. And yet perhaps, after all, William Rufus had succeeded in
the chief wish of his heart. Le Mans was the special prize of his
father; its castles were the work of his father. But his father had
had no special dealings with Mayet or Château-du-Loir. He might be
satisfied to do without such small and distant possessions, he might
be satisfied even to undergo defeat before them, as long as the city
which his father had twice won, as long as the royal tower which his
father had reared, were his beyond dispute.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: William’s good treatment of Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: He enters the city.]
[Sidenote: He stops the oppressions of his garrison.]
[Sidenote: He drives out the canons.]
[Sidenote: He leaves garrisons and returns to England. September, 1099.]
But it is at least to William’s honour that, in his last entry at Le
Mans, he showed himself a benefactor to the city which had suffered so
much. Rufus had, as we have seen in the case of Robert of Bellême, men
about him who were worse than himself. Or rather, putting aside such
exceptional sinners as Robert of Bellême, he had men about him who
simply did, as a matter of course, according to the fashion of the
time, without either rising or sinking to those parts of the character
of Rufus which are special to himself. So now the citizens of Le Mans
found in the Red King himself a deliverer from the oppressions done by
his officers. Those among the inhabitants who had stayed in the city
and had not followed their Count in his flight, had suffered every
kind of wrong-doing at the hands of the King’s garrisons. The tale,
according to the local historian, was too long and sad to tell in
full.[721] But matters grew better when the King came himself. William
again entered Le Mans in triumph, a triumph won chiefly over vines and
apple-trees, certainly not over the garrison of Mayet.[722] Anyhow he
came in a merciful mood. He checked the excesses of his soldiers; it
was owing to his bounty only that the city was saved from utter
ruin.[723] But on one class of its inhabitants his hand was harder
than on the rest. The canons of Saint Julian’s, or so many of them as
had agreed to the election of Hildebert, were driven out by the King’s
order.[724] William then disbanded his army,[725] leaving garrisons in
the castles of Le Mans, and doubtless in that of Ballon also. He then
left the mainland for the last time, and, after an absence of three
months, came back to England about the time of the feast of
Michaelmas.[726]
[Sidenote: William and Hildebert.]
[Sidenote: Hildebert reconciled to the King.]
[Sidenote: Charges brought against him.]
[Sidenote: William bids Hildebert pull down the towers of Saint
Julian’s.]
[Sidenote: Dialogue between William and Hildebert.]
[Sidenote: The southern tower.]
[Sidenote: Appearance on the north side.]
But, if William Rufus, on his last visit to Le Mans, saved the
inhabitants of the city from ruin, he presently deprived the city
itself of one of its chief material ornaments. It was the election of
Hildebert which had first stirred up his wrath, and he had picked out
the lands of the bishopric, as the lands of a personal enemy, for
special havoc.[727] Yet we read that, at some very early stage of his
march, before he had yet crossed the frontier of Normandy and Maine,
Hildebert met the King, and was received as a friend, on showing that
he had had no hand in bringing about the occupation of the city by
Helias.[728] But, after William had again entered Le Mans, the charge
was once more brought against the Bishop by some of the clergy of
Saint Julian’s who had opposed his election from the beginning. It was
by Hildebert’s counsel, they said, that Helias had been received, and
that the King’s castles had been besieged; nay, the towers of the
minster itself, the twin towers of Howel, had been used, as they well
might be, for the attack on the royal tower. William hearkened to the
enemies of Hildebert, and gave him his choice, either to pull down the
towers which were so liable to abuse, or else to follow him at once
into England.[729] To the Bishop of Le Mans the sea-voyage itself
seemed frightful;[730] and when its dangers were passed, when
Hildebert had reached the shores of our island, his enemies, who seem
to have crossed also, again began to accuse him to the King.[731] A
strange dialogue followed between the two. William, in his craft,
offered to purchase the destruction of the towers at a price which
would have greatly increased the internal splendour of the church. Let
the Bishop agree to pull down the towers, and he, King William, will
give him a vast mass of gold and silver for the adornment of the new
shrine of Saint Julian.[732] But the Bishop had his craft also. He was
in the land so famous for gold and silver work, the land where Otto
and Theodoric were doubtless still plying their craft. They had no
such goldsmiths at Le Mans; let the King keep his precious ingots for
works within his own kingdom.[733] Still the destruction of the towers
is pressed upon him; all that he can gain, and that with difficulty,
is a little delay. Hildebert at last went back to Le Mans, taking with
him, not indeed the King’s great ingots, but some lesser ornaments for
his church.[734] The burning of the city, the dispersion of his
canons, the havoc wrought in his own lands, all weighed him down. He
poured forth the full bitterness of his soul in his extant letters.
The unrepealed order for the pulling down of the two towers still hung
over him. Was it ever carried out? Our author does not say distinctly.
We might rather infer from his story that the death of Rufus and the
return of Helias saved the Bishop from his difficulties.[735] Yet the
appearance of the building itself looks the other way. As the church
of Saint Julian now stands, the southern tower of Howel has its
existing representative. It is slender, and, if it stood against a
building of ordinary height, it would be tall. Its upper part belongs
to the late rebuilding of the transepts, but the lowest stage belongs
to the latest and richest style of Romanesque, contemporary with the
great recasting of the nave. It is no work of Howel or even of
Hildebert; but it is the work of one who wished to reproduce, with the
richer detail of his own day, the general likeness of what Howel’s
tower had been. On the north side this tower has no fellow; the space
at the end of the transept which answers to it is occupied by a ruined
building of earlier Romanesque, which may well be the stump of the
original tower of Howel.[736] Are we to infer that the bidding of
Rufus was carried out――that the towers, or their upper stages, were
actually destroyed――that every later ruler of Le Mans, the devout
Helias among them, deemed the northern tower too near to the royal
fortress to allow of its rebuilding, but that the rebuilding of the
more distant tower on the southern side was begun in the earlier and
finished in the later recasting of the church? May we look on the
shattered building which joins hard to the northern transept of Saint
Julian’s as being truly the remnant of a tower which Howel reared with
the good will of William the Great, and which Hildebert, with a heavy
heart, pulled down at the bidding of William the Red? If it be so, I
know of no spot where architectural evidence speaks more strongly to
the mind, where walls and columns and arches bring us more directly
into the presence of the men who made and who unmade them. Among all
the wonders of Saint Julian’s minster――beside the nave which is
inseparably bound up with so many living pages of our story――beside
the choir which in itself concerns not the historian of Norman kings
and Cenomannian counts, but on which we gaze in breathless wonder as
one of the noblest of the works of man――no spot comes more truly home
to us than that where we see the small remnants of what once was there
and is there no longer. Alongside of the soaring apse to the east, of
the wide portal to the west, the northern tower of Howel is indeed
conspicuous by its absence.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert at Jerusalem. July, 1099.]
[Sidenote: Death of Pope Urban. July 29.]
[Sidenote: Revolt in Anglesey. 1099.]
[Sidenote: Return of Cadwgan and Gruffydd.]
[Sidenote: Recovery of Anglesey and Ceredigion by the Welsh.]
The second war with Maine is the only event beyond the bounds of
England which our own annalists record under this year, except indeed
those œcumenical events besides which the affairs of Maine, and even
the affairs of England, seem for the moment but as trifles. In the
same month of July in which William made his way into Le Mans, his
brother Robert, in quite another warfare, made his way into
Jerusalem.[737] Presently, before he could have heard of his own work,
the great preacher of the crusade, Pope Urban the Second, passed
away.[738] With the affairs of Maine these events have a direct
connexion. It was not the fault of Count Helias that he did not obey
the teaching of Urban, that he did not enter the Holy City alongside
of Robert and Godfrey. But it needs an effort to turn away either from
Jerusalem or from Le Mans to record the last counter-revolution in
Anglesey. Yet it is not amiss to remember that two lands were at the
same moment striving for freedom against the Red King, and that the
Briton and the Cenomannian had to hold their own against the same
enemy. He who ruled at once at Bellême and at Shrewsbury was terrible
to both alike. We may believe that the Britons marked their time while
the fierce Earl had his hands full beyond the Channel, to strike
another blow to win back their land, and specially to win back the
island which had been the scene of the warfare of the last year. But
it would seem that, in some parts at least of the land, there was
little need for blows. The two princes who had fled to Ireland,
Cadwgan son of Bleddyn and Gruffydd son of Cynan, now came back.
Cadwgan obtained a peaceful settlement in Ceredigion; Gruffydd got
possession of Anglesey, perhaps as the price of warfare. A son of
Cadwgan, Llywelyn, was presently killed by the men of Brecheiniog,
that is doubtless by the followers of Bernard of Newmarch.[739]
Another Welsh prince, Howel by name, had to flee to Ireland.[740] We
may infer that the central border-land was still firmly held by the
conquerors, but that, though the French had constrained the Britons of
Anglesey to become Saxons,[741] French and Saxons alike had to yield
to the returning Britons both in Anglesey and in Ceredigion. Gruffydd
and Cadwgan, names which are by this time familiar to us, are again
established in Britain. Both of them play a part in the later history
of their own land, and Cadwgan at least will appear again within the
range of our own story.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Natural phænomenon.]
[Sidenote: The great tide. November 3, 1099.]
[Sidenote: Death of Bishop Osmund of Salisbury. December 3, 1099.]
These Welsh matters find no place in the English Chronicles, which
find so little space even for the deeds of Helias. Most likely they
made no great impression on the mind of Rufus, now that, not Maine
indeed, but at least Le Mans, was again his. He came back to England,
a conqueror doubtless in his own eyes, about the feast of Saint
Michael. The year did not end without one of those natural phenomena
in which the reign is so rich. This time it was the wonderful
flood-tide which, in the beginning of November, on a day of new moon,
came up the Thames, flooded the land, overwhelmed houses and villages,
and swept away men, oxen, and sheep.[742] A month later a new source
of revenue began to flow into the Red King’s coffers. Bishop Osmund of
Salisbury, the founder alike of the elder church and of the abiding
ritual of his diocese, died early in December.[743] His temporalities
passed, like those of Canterbury and Winchester, into the King’s
hands. The Bishop of Durham had doubtless bade farewell to such
duties; but the race of _exactores_, of clerical _exactores_, had not
died out. There were still plenty of men in the Red King’s court who
were ready to help in wringing the last penny out of the lands of
bishops till they had wrung enough to buy bishoprics for themselves.
The end is now drawing nigh; but till the end came, the groans of the
Church, of the tenants of the Church, and of the whole people of the
land, went up with a voice ever louder and louder.
CHAPTER VII.
THE LAST DAYS OF WILLIAM RUFUS AND THE ACCESSION OF HENRY.
1100-1102.[744]
[Sidenote: End of the eleventh century.]
[Sidenote: Changes in Britain. 1000-1100.]
[Sidenote: Internal changes.]
[Sidenote: Changes in foreign relations.]
[Sidenote: Scotland.]
[Sidenote: Wales.]
[Sidenote: Fusion of elements in Britain begins.]
[Sidenote: Ireland.]
The last year of the eleventh century had now come. The course of
those hundred years had wrought many changes in the world. To our eyes
the changes which it had wrought in the isle of Britain seem great and
wonderful, and great and wonderful they were. At the beginning of the
century Englishmen were struggling for their country and their homes
against the invading Dane. The Dane had won the land; he had given us
one foreign ruler who became one of ourselves. The days of foreign
rule had passed away, only, as the event proved, to pave the way for a
foreign rule which was to be far more abiding. A foreign rule which,
by adopting national feelings, in some sort deadened them paved the
way for a foreign rule which, by seeming for a moment to crush the old
life of the nation, really called it up again in new shapes. But the
rule of the Norman could not, like the rule of Cnut, itself become
national during the life-time of the Conqueror or of his first
successor. There was indeed a change between the England of Æthelred
and the England of William Rufus. The outward aspect of the land
itself must have changed, now that well-nigh every English mound was
crowned by its Norman castle, now that well-nigh every English minster
was giving way to a successor built after Norman patterns. But, if
things had changed, men had changed also. Compare the signatures to a
charter of Æthelred and the signatures to a charter of William. The
change which had come over the land is marked by the difference
between the list of English names among which it may be that some
follower of the Norman Lady has crept in, and the list of Norman names
among which it may be that some unusually lucky Englishman has
contrived to hold his place. England had thus changed indeed in her
internal state; she had changed no less in her relations to other
lands. Within her own island she had made what it is no contradiction
to speak of as a peaceful conquest made at the sword’s point. The
elder Eadgar had placed the younger on the Scottish throne as the work
of warfare. So far as Eadgar’s work was the political submission of
Scotland, its results were but for a moment. So far as it led to the
peaceful change of Scotland into a second and separate English
kingdom, its results have been indeed abiding. Towards Wales, amidst
much of seeming ill-success, the work of conquest had in truth begun;
the Red King had found out the true way to curb those bold spirits
which he could not overcome in the field. Much indeed had the eleventh
century done, in different ways, towards welding the three elements of
the isle of Britain into one political whole. Ages had to pass before
the work was finished; but it was in the eleventh century, above all,
in the reign of Rufus, that it really began. Towards the impossible
work, forbidden by geography and history, of welding another great
island into the same whole, whatever either William may have
dreamed――yet to the Conqueror we may not dare to ascribe mere
dreams――neither had done anything. So far as the two great islands of
the Ocean had begun to draw near to one another, it was as yet wholly
through the advances which the princes and people of Ireland had made
in spiritual things to the Pontiff of the other world, the Patriarch
of all the nations beyond the sea.
[Sidenote: Britain ceases to be another world.]
[Sidenote: Marriages of Ælfgifu-Emma and Eadgyth-Matilda.]
[Sidenote: England becomes part of the Latin world.]
[Sidenote: Advance of the Latin world in the eleventh century.]
[Sidenote: Conversion of the North.]
[Sidenote: The Crusade.]
[Sidenote: The struggle in Spain.]
[Sidenote: Decline of the Eastern Empire.]
[Sidenote: Renewed advance.]
[Sidenote: Sicily.]
But one great work of the times over which we are casting our eyes was
that Britain was now fast ceasing to deserve its ancient name of
another world. The earliest and the latest years of the century are
each marked by a marriage, by a change of name on the part of the
bride, which puts the change before us in a living way. A new epoch of
intercourse with other lands had begun when, on her marriage with a
King of the English of her day, Norman Emma had to become English
Ælfgifu. How greatly things had turned the other way was shown when,
on her marriage with a King of the English of her day, English Eadgyth
had to become Norman Matilda. The land which was to be the realm of
Henry and Matilda was, through the chain of events which began with
Emma’s marriage, fast changing from the separate world of Æthelred’s
day into a part of the larger world of Western Europe, the world of
_Latinitas_, of Latin speech and of learning, the world which, amidst
all the struggles of rival Popes and Emperors, still deemed itself the
world of Rome. And in few ages had that world done more to extend
itself than in the age which began with Æthelred and ended with Henry.
At the beginning of the century northern Europe was still largely
heathen; England was fighting the battle of Christendom against the
Danish renegade. Now the kingdoms of the North had passed into the
Christian fold. The change between the beginning of the century and
the end is best marked by saying that before its end the crusades had
begun, that the first crusade had been crowned with the greatest of
crusading victories. But, in looking at the crusades of the East, the
abiding crusade of the West must not be forgotten. Our own Chronicler
has not failed to tell us somewhat of the great strife of Christian
and Saracen in the south-western peninsula,[745] and if the taking of
Toledo was followed by reverses of the Christian arms, it was only by
dint of help from Africa. Here is a sign that the tide was turned, and
that it was only by such help from beyond the straits, by a new
passage of Africa into Europe, that Islam could maintain itself in the
once Roman and Gothic land. In the Eastern world, the crusade should
not make us forget the causes of the crusade. At the beginning of the
century we saw the Eastern Rome in her full might, the might of
Saracenic victories which were already won, of Bulgarian victories
which were winning. But now, as the Western Mussulman has to call in
help from Africa, so the Eastern Christian has to call in help from
Western Europe. The Christian frontier in Asia has indeed frightfully
gone back since the beginning of the century; but it has again begun
to advance; Nikaia, Antioch, Jerusalem itself, are restored to the
Christian world, and Nikaia is restored, not only to the Christian
world but to the obedience of the Eastern Augustus. And, by not least
memorable change among so many, the great Mediterranean island, the
battle-field of Greek and Saracen, has passed away from the rule of
either, while remaining the flourishing dwelling-place of both. Sicily
has entered within the range of Western Christendom, and Palermo, like
Winchester, has entered within the range of Norman dominion. When
Æthelred reigned at Winchester and Richard at Rouen, a bishop of
Evreux could not have performed the funeral rites of a bishop of
Bayeux within the walls and between the havens of the Happy City.
[Sidenote: Change from Æthelred to William Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Schemes of Rufus.]
Changes then had been great in east and west and north and south
during the century which carries us from Otto the Wonder of the World
and Basil the Slayer of the Bulgarians to what at first sight seems
the lower level of Henry the Fourth and Alexios Komnênos. And when in
our own land the same space carries us from Æthelred to William Rufus,
the gap seems wider still. And it was at least not the fault of
William Rufus that the changes wrought by the eleventh century were
not greater still. Æthelred, the man without rede, was not likely to
change the face of the world, unless by passively supplying the means
for Swegen and Cnut to change it. But William Rufus had no lack of
rede of one kind, though it was perhaps of a kind which better
deserved to be called _unrede_. But it was _unrede_ of a more active
kind than the _unrede_ of Æthelred. William was eager enough to change
the face of the world for his own behoof. To win, after a sort, the
submission of Scotland and Maine, to plan the conquest of Ireland and
France, to negotiate for the purchase of Aquitaine――here alone are
far-reaching plans enough, plans which could not have been carried out
without some large result on the history of mankind. That result could
never have been the lasting establishment of that Empire of Gaul and
Britain of which Rufus seems to have dreamed. But had his continental
plans been successful, they might have led, as the marriage of Lewis
and Eleanor in the next century might have led, to the formation of a
kingdom of France in the modern sense some ages before its time.
[Sidenote: Contradiction in William’s position.]
[Sidenote: His defeats not counted defeats.]
The strange thing is that a man who schemed so much, who filled so
great a place in the eyes of his own generation, after all did so
little. Almost more strange is the way in which he sees all his great
plans utterly shattered, and yet seems to feel no shame, no
discouragement, no shock to his belief in his own greatness. He comes
back really defeated; he has twice won Le Mans, and that is all; but
if he has won Le Mans, he cannot win Mayet. So far from winning Paris,
he cannot win Chaumont. So far from reigning on the Garonne, he cannot
keep even the frontier of the Loir. But what would have been counted
defeat in any one else does not seem to have been counted defeat in
William Rufus. Beaten at all points but one, he still keeps the air of
a conqueror; he still seems to be looked on as a conqueror by others.
From the beginning to the end, there is a kind of glamour about the
Red King and all that he does. He has a kind of sleight of hand which
imposes on men’s minds; like the Athenian orator, when he is thrown in
the wrestling-match, he makes those who saw his fall believe that he
has never fallen.[746] We might even borrow a word from the piebald
jargon of modern diplomacy; we might say that the reign of the Red
King was the highest recorded effort of _prestige_.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The year 1100.]
[Sidenote: Lack of events in its earlier months.]
[Sidenote: Contrast with the year 1000.]
[Sidenote: Vague expectations afloat.]
[Sidenote: Portents and prophecies.]
And now we have entered on the last year of the reign and of the
century. It is a year whose earlier months are, within our own range
at least, singularly barren of events, while its latter months are
full of matter to record. It is a kind of tribute to the importance of
William Rufus that there is at once so much to record the moment he is
out of the way. When he is gone, a large part of the world feels
relief. But about the lack of events earlier in the year there is
something strange and solemn. The last year of the eleventh century
was not marked by that general feeling of awe and wonder and looking
forward to judgement which marked the last year of the tenth century.
But, at least within the range of the Red King’s influence, that year
seems to have been marked by that vague kind of feeling of a coming
something which some of us have felt before the great events of our
own times. Whatever may be the cause, it is certain that, as the news
of events which have happened sometimes travels with a speed which
ordinary means cannot account for,[747] so the approach of events
which have not yet happened is sometimes felt in a way which we can
account for as little. Coming events do cast their shadows before
them, in a fashion which, whether philosophy can explain it or not,
history must accept as a fact. And coming events did preeminently cast
their shadows before them in the first half of the year 1100. In that
age the feeling which weighed on men’s minds naturally took the form
of portent and prophecy, of strange sights seen and strange sounds
listened to. There is not the slightest ground for thinking that all
these tales are mere inventions after the fact, though they were
likely enough to be improved in the telling after the fact. The
frightful state of things in the land, unparalleled even in those evil
times, joined with the feeling of expectation which always attends any
marked note of time, be it a fresh week or a fresh millennium――all
worked together to bring about a looking for something to come, partly
perhaps in fear, but far more largely in hope. Things could hardly get
worse; they might get better. Men’s minds were charged with
expectation; every sight, every sound, became an omen; if some men
risked prophecies, if some of their prophecies were fulfilled, it was
not wonderful. The first half of the year, blank in events, was rich
in auguries; in the second half the auguries had largely become facts.
In its first months men were saying with hope, “Non diu dominabuntur
effeminati.”[748] Before the twelvemonth was out, they were beginning
to say with joy, “Hic rex Henricus destruxit impios regni.”[749]
§ 1. _The Last Days of William Rufus._
_January――August, 1100._
[Sidenote: The three assemblies of 1099-1100.]
[Sidenote: Christmas at Gloucester. 1099-1000.]
[Sidenote: Easter at Winchester. April 1, 1100.]
[Sidenote: Pentecost at Westminster. May 20, 1100.]
[Sidenote: No record of these assemblies.]
[Sidenote: Death of Urban.]
This year the King, occupied by no warfare beyond his realm, was able
to hold all the assemblies of the year at their wonted times and in
their wonted places.[750] At Christmas William Rufus wore his crown at
Gloucester, the place of his momentary repentance and of his wildest
insolence. He had there given the staff to Anselm; he had there sent
away Malcolm from his court without a hearing. At Easter he wore his
crown at Winchester, the city which had first received him after the
death of his father, where he had first unlocked his father’s
treasures, and had put in bonds those whom his father had set free. At
Whitsuntide he wore his crown at Westminster, and again held the
assembly and the banquet in the mighty hall of his own rearing. We
have no record of the acts of any of these three assemblies. The two
former at least may well have been gatherings which came together more
for the display of kingly magnificence than for the transaction of any
real business of the realm. All things seemed to be as glorious as
ever for the defeated of Mayet and Chaumont. In the death of Urban
Rufus saw the removal of an enemy, at least of a hindrance in his way.
He had indeed found that Urban could be won to his will by a bribe.
Still he was a Pope, a Pope whom he had himself acknowledged, a Pope
whom it might be needful to bribe. Better far was it to come back to
the happy days before he had been cajoled by Cardinal Walter, before
he had been frightened into naming Anselm, the happy days when he was
troubled by no archbishop in the land and no pope out of it. Those
days were come again. Anselm was far away; Urban was dead; Paschal he
had not acknowledged. The last recorded words of Rufus before the day
of Lammas and its morrow were those in which he set forth his fixed
purpose to use as he would the freedom which was his once more.[751]
[Sidenote: Continental schemes of Rufus.]
But if we have no record of the three assemblies of the year, if we
have no traditional sayings of the King, if we have no record of
anything that really happened during these months, we can see that
great schemes were planned; great preparations were making, which must
have been the matter of deep debates at the Pentecostal assembly. Our
own Chroniclers are silent; our tidings come from our familiar teacher
at Saint Evroul. Though the Red King kept himself so close in his
island kingdom, he was planning greater things than ever beyond the
sea. He had Normandy to keep and he had Aquitaine to win. For such
objects he had need of both gold and steel, and we cannot doubt that
in the assembly held at Whitsuntide within the new hall of Westminster
King William demanded no small store of both to enable him to carry
out the schemes of his overweening pride.
[Sidenote: Robert’s return from the crusade.]
[Sidenote: His marriage with Sibyl of Conversana.]
[Sidenote: His reception in south Italy.]
[Sidenote: Character of the Duchess Sibyl.]
[Sidenote: His funds for buying back the duchy.]
Normandy was to be kept. Duke Robert, the bold crusader, was coming
back from the lands where his name, once so despised in his own duchy,
had been crowned with unlooked-for glory. He was coming back by the
path by which he had gone, through the Norman lands of southern Italy.
And he was coming with a companion whose presence promised something
in the way of amendment alike of his private life and of his public
government. He brought with him a wife, Sibyl of Conversana, daughter
of Geoffrey lord of Brindisi, and grand-niece of Robert Wiscard. He
had been welcomed by his southern countrymen with all honours and with
precious gifts; both Rogers, the Duke of Apulia and the young Count of
Sicily, to be one day the first and all but the most famous of
Sicilian kings, were zealous in showing their regard. But from the
house of the Count of Conversana he took away the most precious gift
of all in a woman who is described as uniting all merits and beauties
within and without, and who was certainly far better fitted to rule
the duchy of Normandy than he was.[752] His father-in-law and his
other friends gave him great gifts in money and precious things
towards redeeming his dominions from his brother.[753] But William
Rufus had no thought of restoring the pledge; he had Normandy in his
grasp, and he had no mind to let it go.
[Sidenote: William of Aquitaine;]
[Sidenote: his crusade;]
[Sidenote: He proposes to pledge his duchy to Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Preparations for occupation of Aquitaine.]
But besides this, Aquitaine was to be won. It was indeed to be won in
a peaceful sort, as far as the engagements of its sovereign went. Duke
William of Poitiers, the ally of William of England in his French
campaign, was at last ready for his crusade. Strange warrior of the
cross, strange comrade for Godfrey or even for Robert, was he who,
after his return from the Sepulchre, spared the life of a holy bishop
who rebuked him on the ground that he hated him too much to send him
to paradise, who brought together the monastic harem at Niort, and who
marched to battle with the form of his adulterous mistress painted on
his shield.[754] But now he was setting forth for the holy war. Thirty
thousand warriors――the conventional number everywhere――from Aquitaine,
Gascony, and other lands of southern Gaul, were ready, we are told, to
follow in his train.[755] But Duke William, like Duke Robert, lacked
money. He sent therefore to the master of the hoard which seemed open
to all comers, seeking to pledge his duchy, as Robert had pledged
his.[756] We cannot help suspecting that some such arrangement had
been made at an earlier time, when the two Williams joined their
forces together against France; but, if not made then, it was made
now. King William readily agreed to an offer which would practically
make him master of the greater part of Gaul. He was lord of Normandy;
he held himself to be master of Maine; he was about to become lord of
Aquitaine. Maine and Poitou indeed did not march on each other; but
Anjou might be won by some means. Fulk could not hold out against a
prince who hemmed him in on either side. Either gold or steel would
surely open the way to Angers, as well as to Rouen and to Bourdeaux.
Prepared for all chances, William was gathering money, gathering
ships, gathering men, for a greater work than fruitless attacks on
Mayet and Chaumont, for the great task of enlarging his dominion,――our
guide says to the Garonne; he should rather have said to the Pyrenees.
Robert was to be kept out of Normandy; to restore to the debtor his
pledge was the dull virtue of the merchant or the Jew; such duties
touched not the honour of the good knight. No man could perform all
his promises, and the restoration of Normandy was a promise of the
class which needed not to be performed. Aquitaine was to be peacefully
bought; but possibly arms might be needed there also. All who should
dare to withstand the extension of William’s dominion to the most
southern borders of Gaul were to be brought to obedience at the
sword’s point.
[Sidenote: His alleged designs on the Empire.]
I have said “dominion;” but the word in the writer whom I follow is
_Empire_.[757] That name, one not unknown to us in the history of
Rufus, may have been dropped at random; but it may have been meant to
show that mightier schemes still were at work in the restless brain of
the Red King. We may couple the phrase with vague hints dropped
elsewhere, which show that, whether Rufus really thought of it or not,
men gave him credit for dreams of dominion greater even than the
supplanting of Fulk of Angers, of William of Poitiers, and of Philip
of Paris all at once. The doctrine that Britain was a land fruitful in
tyrants was to be carried out on a greater scale than it had been in
the days of Carausius or Maximus or the later Constantine. The father
had once been looked for at kingly Aachen;[758] the son, so men
believed, hoped to march in the steps of Brennus to imperial
Rome.[759] He would outdo the glory of all crusaders, of princes of
Antioch and kings of Jerusalem. Geoffrey, Bohemund, his own brother,
had knelt as vassals in the New Rome; he would sit as an Emperor in
the Old. Then he would have no question about acknowledging or not
acknowledging popes; he would make them or refuse to make them as he
thought good. The patrimony of Saint Peter might be let to farm, along
with the estates of Canterbury and Winchester and Salisbury. Whether
such thoughts really passed through the mind of William Rufus we can
neither affirm nor deny. That men could believe that they were passing
through his mind shows that they believed, and rightly, that he was
capable of dreaming, of planning, of attempting, anything.
[Sidenote: Portents.]
[Sidenote: Death of young Richard. May, 1100.]
[Sidenote: William, natural son of Robert.]
But while the preparations were making, the portents were gathering.
First came a stroke which reads like a rehearsal of his own end. While
Robert was coming back with his Sibyl to found a new and legitimate
dynasty in the Norman duchy, a blow fell on one of the children of his
earlier wanderings.[760] One Richard had already fallen in the haunted
shades of the New Forest,[761] and his death opened the path for his
younger brother to reign at Winchester and Rouen and Le Mans, and to
dream of reigning at Dublin, Paris, Poitiers, and Rome. Another
Richard, the natural son of Duke Robert, who must have been enrolled
in the service of his uncle, was cut off on the same fatal ground
early in May, shortly before the Westminster assembly. The King’s
knights were hunting the deer in the forest; one of them drew his bow
to bring down a stag; the arrow missed the intended victim, and
pierced Richard with a stroke which brought him dead to the
ground.[762] Great grief followed his fall; his unwitting slayer, to
escape from vengeance, fled and became a monk.[763] Young Richard thus
died while his uncle was making ready to keep his father out of the
dominions which he was pledged to restore. His brother William, the
other son of Robert’s vagrant days, seems to have followed the
fortunes of his father, till, after Tinchebrai, he went to Jerusalem
and died fighting in the Holy War.[764]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Wonders and apparitions.]
[Sidenote: Warlike preparations. June-July, 1100.]
[Sidenote: Consecration of Gloucester Abbey. July 15, 1100.]
[Sidenote: Vision and prophecies.]
The death of Richard might be a warning. It might be taken as a sign
that some special power of destiny hovered over the spot where the
dwellings of man and the houses of God had been swept away to make
clearer ground for sports where joy is sought for in the wanton
infliction of death and suffering. Still it was no portent out of the
ordinary course of nature. But portents of this kind too were not
lacking. The pool of blood in Berkshire welled again;[765] the devil
was seen openly in many places, showing himself, it would seem, to
Normans only, and talking to them of their countrymen the King and the
Bishop of Durham.[766] Strange births, stranger unbirths, were told as
the news of the day to a visitor from another land.[767] As the day
approaches, a crowd of vivid pictures seems to pass before us. June
and July passed amidst preparations for war, but July saw also one
great ecclesiastical ceremony. Abbot Serlo’s minster of Gloucester was
now near enough to perfection for its consecration to be sought for.
Whether all the lofty pillars of the nave were as yet reared or not,
at least that massive eastern limb with its surrounding chapels, which
may still be seen through the lace-work of later times, was already
finished. The rite of its hallowing was done by the diocesan Samson
and three other bishops, Gundulf of Rochester, Gerard of Hereford, and
Hervey the shepherd of the stormy diocese of Bangor. The zeal of the
monks and their visitors was stirred up by the ceremony, and the house
of Saint Peter at Gloucester became a special seat of vision and
prophecy. One godly brother[768] saw in the dreams of the night the
Lord sitting on his throne, with the hosts of heaven and the choirs of
the saints around him. A fair and stately virgin stood forth and knelt
before the Lord. She prayed him to have pity on his people who were
ground down beneath the yoke of King William of England. The dreamer
trembled, and understood that the suppliant was the holy Church of
Christ, calling on her Lord and Saviour to look down on all that her
children bore from the lusts and robberies and other evil deeds of the
King and his followers.[769] Serlo, filled with holy zeal, set down
the vision in writing, and sent the message of warning to the
King.[770]
[Sidenote: Abbot Fulchered’s sermon at Gloucester. August 1, 1100.]
But the visions of the night were not all. A more open voice of
prophecy, so men deemed, was not lacking. A few days after the monk’s
vision, on the day of Lammas, a crowd of all classes was gathered in
Saint Peter’s church at Gloucester to keep the feast of Saint
Peter-in-Chains.[771] Fulchered, Abbot of Earl Roger’s house at
Shrewsbury, once a monk of Earl Roger’s house at Seez, an eloquent
preacher of the divine word, was chosen from a crowd of elders[772] to
make his discourse to the people. A near neighbour of the terrible son
of his own founder, none could know better than he under what woes the
land was groaning. Fulchered mounted the pulpit of the newly-hallowed
minster, and the spirit of the old prophets came upon him.[773] In
glowing words he set forth the sins and sorrows of the time, how
England was given as an heritage to be trodden under foot of the
ungodly. Lust, greediness, pride, all were rampant, pride which would,
if it were possible, trample under foot the very stars of heaven.[774]
The words have the ring of the words of Eadward on his deathbed; but
Eadward had to tell of coming sorrow, and of only distant deliverance.
Fulchered could tell of a deliverance which was nigh, even at the
doors. A sudden change was at hand; the men who had ceased to be men
should rule no longer.[775] And then in a strain which seems to carry
us on to the days of Naseby and Dunbar, he told how the Lord God was
coming to judge the open enemies of his spouse. He told how the
Almighty would smite Moab and Edom with the sword of vengeance, and
overthrow the mountains of Gilboa with a fearful shaking. “Lo,” he
went on, “the bow of wrath from on high is bent against the wicked,
and the arrow swift to wound is drawn from the quiver. It shall soon
smite, and that suddenly; let every man that is wise amend his ways
and avoid its stroke.”[776]
[Sidenote: The alleged dream of the King.]
[Sidenote: Exhortation of Gundulf.]
Such is the report of Abbot Fulchered’s sermon, as it is told us by
one who no doubt set down with a special interest the words of the
first prelate of the minster into which the humble church of his own
father had grown.[777] Other stories tell us how on the night of that
same Wednesday a more fearful dream than that of the monk of
Gloucester disturbed the slumbers of some one. In the earlier version
the seer is a monk from beyond sea; in its later form the terrible
warning is vouchsafed to the King himself.[778] The story, as usual,
puts on fresh details as it grows; but its essential features are the
same in its simplest and in its most elaborate shape. The King, with
his proud and swelling air, scorning all around him, enters a church.
In one version it is a chapel in a forest; in another it is a minster
gorgeously adorned. Its walls were robed with velvet and purple,
stuffs wrought by the skill of the Greek, and with tapestry where the
deeds of past times lived in stitch-work, like the tale of Brihtnoth
at Ely and the newer tale of William at Bayeux.[779] Here were goodly
books, here were the shrines of saints, gleaming with gold and gems
and ivory, a sight such as the eyes of the master and spoiler of so
many churches had never rested on. At a second glance all this bravery
passed away; the walls and the altar itself stood bare. At a third
glance he saw the form of a man lying bare upon the altar. A cannibal
desire came on him; he ate, or strove to eat, of the body that lay
before him. His victim endured for a while in patience; then his face,
hitherto goodly and gentle as of an angel, became stern beyond words,
and he spoke――“Is it not enough that thou hast thus far grieved me
with so many wrongs? Wilt thou gnaw my very flesh and bones?” One
version gives the words another turn; the stern voice answers simply,
“Henceforth thou shalt eat of me no more.” In those accounts which
make the King the dreamer, Rufus tells the vision to a bishop――one
tale names Gundulf――who explains the easy parable. The exhortation
follows, to mend his ways, to hold a synod and to restore Anselm. The
King, in one account, in a momentary fit of penitence, promises to do
so. But his better feelings pass away; in defiance of all warnings, he
goes forth to hunt on the fatal ground, the scene of the wrong and
sacrilege of his father――in some of these versions the scene of
further wrong and sacrilege of his own.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: William at Brockenhurst. August 1, 1100.]
[Sidenote: His companions.]
[Sidenote: Henry.]
[Sidenote: Walter Tirel.]
[Sidenote: His father the Dean of Evreux.]
[Sidenote: His lordships and marriage.]
The details of some of these stories I shall discuss elsewhere. If
they prove nothing else, they prove at least the deep impression which
the Red King’s life and the Red King’s end made on the men of his own
days and of the days which followed them. One thing is certain; on the
first day of August, while Fulchered was preaching at Gloucester, King
William was in the New Forest, with his head-quarters seemingly at
Brockenhurst.[780] He had with him several men whose names are known
to us, as Gilbert of Laigle, once so fierce against William’s cause at
Rouen, Gilbert and Roger of Clare, the former of whom had won his
forgiveness by his timely revelations on the march to Bamburgh.[781]
Henry, Ætheling and Count, if not one of the party, was not far off;
he too had, if not his visions, at least his omens.[782] But chief
among the company, nearest, it would seem, to the King in sportive
intercourse, was one who was perhaps his subject in Normandy by birth,
perhaps his subject in England by tenure, but whose chief possessions,
as well as his feelings, belonged to another land.[783] This was a
baron of France, whom we once before heard of in better company, but
whom the fame of the Red King’s boundless liberality had led into his
service. In days before the stern laws of Hildebrand were strictly
enforced, a churchman of high rank, Fulk, Dean of Evreux, was,
seemingly by a lawful marriage, the father of a large family. Walter,
one of his sons, bore the personal surname of _Tirel_, _Tyrell_, in
many spellings, pointing perhaps to his skill in drawing the bow. He
became, by whatever means, lord of Poix in Ponthieu, and of Achères by
the Seine between Pontoise and Poissy; at the former of these
lordships, it would seem, he had once been the host of Anselm.[784] He
was not, in the days of the Survey at least, a land-owner of much
account in England. A small lordship in Essex, held under Richard of
Clare, is the only entry under any name by which he can be conceived
to be meant. He had married a wife, Adelaide by name, of the great
line of Giffard, who seems to have lived till the latter days of King
Henry. He was now a near friend of the Red King’s, a special sharer
with him in the sports of the forest, so much so that, when legend
came to attribute the laying waste of Hampshire to the younger instead
of the elder William, Walter Tirel was charged with having been the
adviser of the deed.[785]
[Sidenote: _Gab_ of the King and Walter Tirel.]
[Sidenote: Walter jeers at the king.]
[Sidenote: William’s alleged subjects and allies.]
[Sidenote: The King’s answer; he will keep Christmas at Poitiers.]
[Sidenote: Angry words of Walter.]
On the Wednesday of Fulchered’s sermon, the King and his chosen
comrade were talking familiarly. Walter fell into that kind of
discourse which is called in the Old-French tongue by the expressive
words _gaber_ and _gab_.[786] He began to talk big, to jeer at the
King for the small results of his own big talk. But the matter of the
discourse sounds a little strange, if it was really uttered at a
moment when such great preparations were making for the defence of
Normandy, for the purchase of Aquitaine, perhaps for the conquest of
Anjou, to say nothing of schemes greater and further off. The lord of
Poix asked the King why he did nothing; with his vast power, why did
he not attack some neighbour? Great as the Red King’s power was,
Walter is made to speak of it as a good deal greater than the truth,
so much so indeed that we can read the speech only as mockery. All
William’s men were ready at his call, the men of Britanny, of
Maine,[787] he adds of Anjou. The Flemings held of him――we have heard
of his dealings with their Count;[788] the Burgundians held him for
their king; Eustace of Boulogne would do anything at his bidding.[789]
Why did he not make war on somebody? Why did he not go forth and
conquer some land or other? The King answers that he means to lead his
host as far as the mountains――the Alps, we may suppose, are meant. He
will thence turn back to the West, and will keep his next Christmas
feast at Poitiers.[790] The mocking vein of Walter Tirel now turns to
anger; he bursts forth in wrathful words. It would be a great matter
indeed to go to the mountains and thence back to Poitiers in time for
Christmas. Burgundians and French would indeed deserve to die by the
worst of deaths, if they became subjects to the English.[791]
[Sidenote: Illustrative value of the story.]
This talk, put into the mouth of the King and his chosen comrade by a
writer of the next generation, is in every way remarkable. The King’s
boast that he would keep Christmas at Poitiers is found also in an
earlier writer, and it is almost implied in his preparations for
taking possession of Aquitaine.[792] The words about French and
Burgundians becoming subject to the English might sound more in
harmony with the next generation; but we have already seen examples
which show that, even so soon after the Norman Conquest of England,
the English name was beginning to be applied on continental lips to
all the subjects of the English crown. The armies of William Rufus
were English in the same sense in which the armies of Justinian were
Roman. The threat of a King of England, speaking on English ground, to
overrun all the provinces of Gaul is conceived as calling forth a
feeling of patriotic anger in the lord of Poix and Achères. Yet, while
we might have expected such an one to fight valiantly for Ponthieu or
the Vexin against a Norman invader, we might also have expected him to
be quite indifferent to the fate of Poitiers, indifferent at all
events to its transfer from the Aquitanian to the Norman William. The
speech is followed by words which imply that the King’s boast was
taken more seriously than it was meant, and which almost suggest a
plot on Walter’s part for the King’s destruction.[793] In the crowd of
conflicting tales with which we are now dealing, we must not insist on
any one as a trustworthy statement of undoubted facts; but the
dialogue which is put into the mouths of William Rufus and Walter
Tirel is almost as remarkable if we look on it as the invention of the
rimer himself as if we deem it to have been, in its substance, really
spoken by those into whose mouths it is put.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Last day of William Rufus. August 2, 1100.]
[Sidenote: Statement of the Chronicle.]
[Sidenote: Other versions; Walter Tirel mentioned in most.]
[Sidenote: Ralph of Aix.]
[Sidenote: The charge denied by Walter.]
[Sidenote: Estimate of the received tale.]
[Sidenote: The statement of the Chronicle the only safe one.]
[Sidenote: Wonder that he was not killed sooner.]
Of the events of the next day we may say thus much with certainty;
“Thereafter on the morrow after Lammas day was the King William in
hunting from his own men with an arrow offshot, and then to Winchester
brought and in the bishopric buried.”[794] These words of our own
Chronicler state the fact of the King’s death and its manner; they
suggest treason, but they do not directly assert it; they name no one
man as the doer. Nearly all the other writers agree in naming Walter
Tirel as the man who drew the bow; but they agree also in making his
act chance-medley and not wilful murder. Yet it is clear that there
were other tales afloat of which we hear merely the echoes. One
tradition attributed the blow, not to Walter Tirel, but to a certain
Ralph of Aix.[795] As the tale is commonly told, the details of the
King’s death could have been known from no mouth but that of Walter
himself; yet it is certain that Walter himself, long after, when he
had nothing to hope or fear one way or the other, denied in the most
solemn way that he had any share in the deed or any knowledge of
it.[796] The words of the Chronicler, though they suggest treason, do
not shut out chance-medley; they leave the actor perfectly open. There
is nothing in the received tale which is in the least unlikely; but it
is the kind of tale which, even if untrue, might easily grow up.
William may have died by accident by the hand of Walter Tirel or of
any other. He may also have died by treason by the hand of Walter
Tirel or of any other. In this last case there were many reasons why
no inquiries should have been made, many reasons why the received tale
should be invented or adopted. It was just such a story as was wanted
in such a case. It satisfied curiosity by naming a particular actor,
while it named an actor who was out of reach, and did not charge even
him with any real guilt. In favour of the same story is the statement,
which can hardly be an invention, that Walter Tirel fled after the
King’s death. But this was a case in which a man who was innocent even
of chance-medley might well flee from the fear of a suspicion of
treason. And Walter’s own solemn denial may surely go for as much as
any mere suspicion against him. Guesses in such a case are easy; the
slayer may have been a friend of Henry, a friend of Anselm, a man
goaded to despair by oppression――all such guesses are likely enough in
themselves; there is no evidence for any of them. All that can be said
is that the words of the Chronicle certainly seem to point out the
actor, whether guilty or only unlucky, as belonging to the King’s
immediate following. “The King William was in hunting from his own men
by an arrow offshot.” Beyond that we cannot go with certainty. But the
number of men of every class who must have felt that they would be the
better, if an arrow or any other means of death could be brought to
light on the Red King, must have been great indeed. The real wonder
is, not that the shaft struck him in the thirteenth year of his reign,
but that no hand had stricken him long before.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Accounts of the King’s last day.]
Of the last day of the Red King, Thursday, the second day of August,
we have two somewhat minute pictures which belong to different hours
of the day. There is no contradiction between the two; the two may be
read as an unbroken story; but we have that slight feeling of distrust
which cannot fail to arise when it is clear that he who records the
events of the afternoon knew nothing of the events of the morning. The
details of such a day would be sure to be remembered; for the same
reason they ran a special chance of being coloured and embellished. We
shall therefore do well to go through the details of the earlier hours
of that memorable day as we find them written, not forgetting the
needful cautions, but at the same time not forgetting that the tale
has much direct evidence for it and has no direct evidence against
it.[797]
[Sidenote: Morning of August 2.]
[Sidenote: William’s dreams.]
[Sidenote: Robert Fitz-hamon tells the monk’s dream.]
[Sidenote: William’s mocking answer.]
[Sidenote: His disturbance of mind.]
[Sidenote: His morning.]
The King then, even according to those who do not assign the specially
fearful vision to himself, passed a restless night, disturbed by
dreams which, on this milder showing, were ugly enough. He dreamed
that he was bled――a process which in those days seems to have passed
for a kind of amusement――and that the blood gushed up towards heaven,
so as to shut out the light of day.[798] He woke suddenly with the
name of our Lady on his lips; he bade a light to be brought, and bade
his chamberlains not to leave him.[799] He remained awake till
daybreak. Then, according to this version, came Robert Fitz-hamon,
entitled to do so as being in his closest confidence,[800] and told
him the dream of the monk from beyond sea. William was moved; but he
tried to hide his real feelings under the usual guise of mockery; “He
is a monk,” he said with his rude laugh, “he is a monk; monklike he
dreams for the sake of money; give him a hundred shillings.”[801] Here
we see the boasted liberality which recklessly squandered with one
hand what was wrung from the groaning people with the other. Seriously
disturbed in mind, William doubted whether he should go hunting that
morning; his friends urged him to run no risk, lest the dream should
come true. He therefore, to occupy his restless mind, gave the
forenoon to serious business;[802] there was enough of it on hand, if
he was planning a march to Rome or even a march to Poitiers. The early
dinner of those days presently came; he ate and drank more than usual,
hoping thus to stifle and drown the thoughts that pressed upon
him.[803] In this attempt he seems to have succeeded; after his meal
he went forth on his hunting.
[Sidenote: He sets forth to hunt.]
[Sidenote: The new arrows.]
[Sidenote: He gives two of them to Walter Tirel.]
[Sidenote: Abbot Serlo’s letter.]
[Sidenote: William’s mockery.]
[Sidenote: His sneers at English regard for omens.]
At this point we take up the thread of the other story. The King,
after his meal, has regained his spirits, and, surrounded by his
followers and flatterers, he is making ready for the chase. He was
putting on his boots――boots doubtless of no small price――when a smith
drew near, offering him six new _catapults_, arrows, it would seem,
designed, not for the long bow, but for the more deadly arbalest or
cross-bow.[804] The King joyfully took them; he praised the work of
the craftsman; he kept four for himself, and gave two to Walter Tirel.
“Tis right,” he said, “that the sharpest arrows should be given to him
who knows how to deal deadly strokes with them.”[805] The two went on
talking and jesting; the flatterers of the King joined in admiringly.
Suddenly there came a monk from Gloucester charged with a letter from
Abbot Serlo. The letter told the dream of the monk, in which the Holy
Church had been seen calling on her Lord for vengeance on the evil
deeds of the King of the English. The letter was read to the
King[806]――there was a future king not far off who could read letters
for himself. William burst into his bitter laugh; he turned to his
favourite comrade; “Walter, do thou do justice, according to these
things which thou hast heard.” “So I will, my lord,” answered
Walter.[807] Then the King talks more at length about the Abbot’s
letter. “I wonder at my lord Serlo’s fancy for writing all this; I
always thought him a good old abbot. ’Tis very simple of him, when I
have so much business about, to take the trouble to put the dreams of
his snoring monks into writing and to send them to me all this way.
Does he think I am like the English, who throw up their journey or
their business because of the snoring or the dreams of an old
woman?”[808] This speech has a genuine sound; it should be noticed as
being the only speech put into the mouth of William Rufus which can be
construed as expressing any dislike or scorn for his English subjects
as such. Yet the words are rather words of good-humoured raillery than
expressive of any deeper feeling. The Red King oppressed and despised
all men, except his own immediate following. Practically his
oppression and scorn must have fallen most heavily on men of native
English birth; but there is no sign that he purposely picked them out
as objects of any special persecution.
[Sidenote: William and his companions go to the hunt.]
[Sidenote: The King and Walter Tirel.]
[Sidenote: The King shot by an arrow.]
[Sidenote: Various versions.]
[Sidenote: Alleged devotion of the King at the last moment.]
In the version which records this speech the sneer at the English
regard for omens are the Red King’s last recorded words. He now
mounted his horse and rode into a wooded part of the forest to seek
his sport, the sport of those to whom the sufferings of the wearied,
wounded, weeping, beast are a source of joy. Count Henry the King’s
brother,[809] William of Breteuil, and other nobles, went forth to the
hunt, and were scattered about towards different points. The King and
the lord of Poix kept together, with a few companions, some say;
others say that they two only kept together.[810] The sun was sinking
towards the west when an arrow struck the King; he fell, and his reign
and life were ended. This is all that we can say with positive
certainty. That the arrow came from the bow of Walter Tirel is a
feature common to nearly every account; but all the details differ. In
one highly picturesque version, not only the King and Walter
Tirel,[811] but a company of barons are in a thickly wooded part of
the forest near a marsh. The herd of deer comes near; the King gets
down from his horse to take better aim; the barons get down also,
Walter Tirel among them. Walter places himself near an elder-tree,
behind an aspen. A great stag passes by; an arrow badly aimed pierces
the King; by whose hand it was sent the teller of the tale knew not;
but the archers who were there said that the shaft came from the bow
of Walter Tirel. Walter fled at once; the King fell. He thrice cried
for the Lord’s body. But there was none to give it to him; the place
was a wilderness far from any church. But a hunter took herbs and
flowers and made the King eat, deeming this to be a communion. Such a
strange kind of figure of the most solemn act of Christian worship was
not unknown.[812] Our author charitably hopes that it might be
accepted in the case of the Red King, especially as he had received
holy bread――itself a substitute of the same kind――the Sunday before.
[Sidenote: Another version;]
[Sidenote: William unwilling to go to the hunt.]
[Sidenote: He is shot by accident by a knight unnamed.]
[Sidenote: He dies penitent.]
In this version there is no mention of the warning dreams either of
the King or of any other person. The scene in the wood follows at once
on the boasting discourse with Walter Tirel. In another version the
King has the frightful dream; he receives, and receives in a good
spirit, the warning interpretation of the Bishop.[813] His companions,
knights and valets, make ready for the chase; they are mounted on
their horses; the bows are ready; the dogs are following; the dogs
bark; the horns blow; all is ready that could stir up the soul of the
hunter. The King is unwilling to stir; his companions tempt him,
entreat him, jeer at him; it is time to set out; he is afraid. He
tells them solemnly that he is sick and sad a hundredfold more than
they wot of. The end is come; he will not go to the forest. They think
that he is mocking, and at last constrain him to come. The chase is
described; the King seems to be alone with one unnamed companion. The
King calls on his comrade to shoot; he is frightened as being too near
the King. He shoots; the devil guides the barbed arrow so that it
glances from a bough, and pierces the King near the heart. He has just
strength enough to bid the knight to flee for his own life, and to
pray to God for him who has lost his life by his own folly, and who
has been so great a sinner against God. The knight rides off in bitter
grief, wishing a hundred times that he had himself been killed instead
of the King.
[Sidenote: Tenderness towards Rufus in these two versions.]
[Sidenote: Other versions mention Walter Tirel.]
In these versions, both written in the Red King’s own tongue, the
details are very remarkable. They seem to come from a kind of wish,
like the feeling which strewed flowers on the grave of Nero, to make
the end of the oppressor and blasphemer one degree less frightful.
Other versions know nothing of this conversion at the last moment. In
one of them, the two, the King and Walter, are alone; the King shoots
at a stag; he hits the beast, but only with a slight wound. The stag
flies; the King follows him with his eyes, sheltering them with his
hand from the sun’s rays. Walter Tirel meanwhile aims at another stag,
misses him, and strikes the King. Rufus utters no word; like Harold,
he breaks off the shaft of the arrow; he falls on the ground, and
dies. Walter comes up, finds him lifeless, and takes to flight.[814]
Or again, the stag comes between his two enemies; Walter shoots; the
King at the same moment shifts his place; Walter’s arrow flies over
the stag’s back, and pierces the King.[815] In another version the
arrow, as we have already heard, glances from a tree;[816] in another
the King stumbles and falls upon it.[817] In later but not less
graphic accounts the string of the King’s bow breaks; the stag stands
still in amazement; the King calls to Walter, “Shoot, you devil,”
“Shoot, in the devil’s name; shoot, or it will be the worse for you.”
Walter shoots; his arrow, perhaps by a straight course, perhaps by
glancing against a tree, strikes the King to the heart.[818]
[Sidenote: Dunstable version.]
[Sidenote: The dream with new details.]
[Sidenote: The prior of Dunstable warns the King.]
[Sidenote: The King shot by Ralph of Aix.]
In all these versions the arrow comes from the bow of a known
companion, and in all but one that companion is said to be Walter
Tirel. In another form of the story the general outline is the same,
but the persons are different. The vision which in the other version
is seen at Gloucester is moved to Dunstable, and is seen there by the
prior of that house. The change of place is unlucky, as the priory of
Dunstable was not yet founded.[819] The Prince on his throne, and the
fair woman complaining of the deeds of William Rufus, are seen, with
some differences of detail, but quite a new element is brought in. A
man all black and hairy offers five arrows to the Prince on the
throne, who gives them back again to him, saying that on the morrow
the wrongs of the suppliant woman shall be avenged by one of them. The
Prior has the vision explained to him much as in the other versions of
the story, but with the addition that, unless the King repented, the
woman――the Church――would be avenged by one of the arrows on the
morrow. The Prior starts from his sleep, and midnight as it was, he
sets out at once on a journey to the New Forest, as swift and headlong
as the King’s own ride to Southampton the year before. He reaches the
place at one in the afternoon, and finds the King going forth to hunt.
As soon as William sees him, he says that he knows why he is come, and
orders forty marks to be given to him. For, it is added, the King, who
destroyed other churches throughout all England, had a love for the
church of Dunstable and its prior, and had even built the minster
there at his own cost. The Prior says that he has come on much greater
and weightier matters; he takes the King aside; he tells him his
dream, and warns him on no account to go into the forest, but at once
to begin to repent and amend his ways. The Prior has hardly ended his
discourse when a man, like the man whom he had seen in his dream,
comes and offers the King five arrows, like the arrows of the dream.
The King gives them――not to Walter Tirol, who is not mentioned, but to
Ralph of Aix, to take with him into the forest. The Prior meanwhile
prays him not to go, but in vain. He goes into the wood, and is
presently shot with one of those arrows by the hand of Ralph. No
details are given, nor is it implied whether the King’s death was an
act of murder or of chance-medley.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Impression made at the time by the death of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Its abiding memory.]
[Sidenote: Local traditions.]
[Sidenote: Impressive character of the death of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Rufus and Charles the First.]
[Sidenote: The words of the Chronicle.]
[Sidenote: End and character of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Judgement on the reign of Rufus.]
These varying tales, whose very variety shows the impression which the
event made upon men’s minds, may make us glad to come back to the safe
statement of the Chronicler, that the Red King was shot from his own
men. The place and circumstances of the death of Rufus were such as
could not fail to stamp themselves upon men’s minds. We see the proud
and godless King, in the height of his pride and godlessness, with his
heart puffed up with wilder plans and more swelling boasts than any of
his plans and boasts in former years. He goes forth, in defiance of
all warning――for some kernel of truth there must surely be in so many
tales of warning――to take his pleasure in the place which men had
already learned to look on as fatal to his house, the place where his
brother had died by a mysterious death, where his nephew had died only
a few weeks before his own end. He goes forth, after striving first to
quiet his restless soul with business, and then to quench all thoughts
and all warnings in the wine-cup. In the midst of his sport, he falls,
by what hand no man knows for certain. One writer rejoices to tell us
how the oppressor of the Church died on the site of one of the
churches which had been uprooted to make way for his pleasures.[820]
Others rejoice to tell how the King whose life and reign had been that
of a wild beast, perished like a beast among the beasts.[821] And the
impression was not only at the time; it has been abiding. The death of
William Rufus is one of those events in English history which are
familiar to every memory and come readily to every mouth. His death
lives in the thoughts of not a few who have no clear knowledge of his
life. The arrow in the New Forest is well known to many who know
nothing of the real position of the Red King’s reign in English
history. The name of Walter Tirel springs readily to the lips of many
on whose ears the names of Randolf Flambard and Robert of Bellême, of
Helias of Maine and Malcolm of Scotland, nay the name of Anselm
himself, would fall like unwonted sounds. No keener local remembrance
can be found than that which binds together the name of Rufus and the
name of the New Forest. At the scenes of the great events of his
reign, at Rochester and Bamburgh and Le Mans, local memory has passed
away, and the presence of the Red King has to be called up by
book-learning only. In a word, in popular remembrance William Rufus
lives, not in his life but in his death. Nor is this wonderful. In the
widest survey of his reign, we can only say that his death was the
fitting ending of his life; in a life full of striking incident, it is
not amazing that the last and most striking incident of all should be
the best remembered. Of all the endings of kings in our long history,
the two most impressive are surely the two that are most opposite.
There is the death of the king who fell suddenly in the height of his
power, by an unknown hand in the thickest depths of the forest; and
there is the death of the king who, fallen from his power, was brought
forth to die by the stroke of the headsman, before the windows of his
own palace, in the sight of his people and of the sun. The striking
nature of the tale is worthy of its long remembrance; but one could
almost wish that the name of the supposed actor in the death of Rufus
had never attached itself to the story. The dark words of the
Chronicle are in truth more impressive than the tale, true or false,
of Walter Tirel. Rufus was shot in his hunting from his own men. That
is enough; his day was over. A life was ended, stained with deeds
which, in our history at least, stand out without fellow before or
after, but a life in which we may here and there see signs of great
powers wasted, even of momentary feelings which might have been
trained into something nobler. As it is, the career of William the Red
is one of which the kindest words that we can say are that he always
kept his word when it was plighted in a certain form, and that he was
less cruel in his own person than many men of his time, than some
better men than himself. But, however we judge of the man, there is
but one judgement to be passed on the reign. The arrow, by whomsoever
shot, set England free from oppression such as she never felt before
or after at the hand of a single man.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Alleged final penitence of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: The other version prevails.]
[Sidenote: Accounts of William’s burial.]
One tale of the death of Rufus, it will be remembered, charitably
describes him as seeking at the last for the mercy of the God whom he
had so often defied. Others paint him as stubborn to the end, and put
the name of the fiend in his mouth as his last words. The latter
version is the one which left its abiding remembrance; it is the one
which all men accepted at the time as the true picture of the
oppressor whose yoke was broken at that memorable Lammas-tide. But the
versions which try to assert a repentance for William Rufus at the
last moment try also to claim for him a solemn and honourable burial
amid the tears of mourning friends. One story goes so far as to place
at the head of the assembly the late Bishop of the diocese, Walkelin
of Winchester, whose body was already resting in the Old Minster,
while the revenues of his see were in the hands of the King. This
version gives us a vivid picture of the scene which followed the
King’s death.[822] A company of barons gather round the corpse. There
were the sons of Richard of Bienfaite, pointedly distinguished, the
one as _Earl_, the other only as _Lord_.[823] There were Gilbert of
Laigle and Robert Fitz-hamon, names familiar to us, and William of
Montfichet, a name afterwards well known, but which is not enrolled in
Domesday. These lords weep and rend their hair; they beat themselves
and wish they were dead; they could never have such another lord.
Gilbert of Laigle at last bids them turn from vainly lamenting the
lord who could not come back to them to paying the last honours to
what was left of him. The huntsmen make a bier; they strew it with
flowers and fern; they lay it on two palfreys; they place the corpse
on the bier and cover it with the new mantles of Robert Fitz-hamon and
William of Montfichet. Then they bear him to the minster of Saint
Swithhun, where bishops, abbots, clerks, and monks, a goodly company,
are come together. Bishop Walkelin, strange to say, watches by the
body of the King till the morning. Then it is buried with such
worship, such saying of masses, as no man had ever heard before, such
as no man would hear again till the day of doom.
[Sidenote: The genuine story.]
[Sidenote: Popular canonizations.]
[Sidenote: Popular excommunication of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: He is buried in the Old Minster without religious rites.]
[Sidenote: Fall of the tower. 1107.]
Such is the tale of those who would soften down the story; but the
version which bears on it the stamp of truth gives us quite another
picture. The King, forsaken by his nobles and companions, lay dead in
the forest, as little cared for as his father had been when he lay
dead in his chamber at Saint Gervase. Those who had been his comrades
in sport hastened hither and thither to their own homes, to guard them
against troubles that might arise, now that the land had no longer a
ruler. Only a few churls of the neighbourhood, men of the race at whom
Rufus had sneered for heeding omens and warnings, were, now that omens
and warnings had proved too true, ready to do the last corporal work
of mercy to the oppressor. They laid the bleeding body on a rustic
wain; they covered it as they could, with coarse cloths, and then took
it, dripping blood as it went, to the gates of Winchester. He who had
so dearly loved the sports of the woods was himself borne from the
woods to the city, like a savage boar pierced through by the
hunting-spear.[824] And now took place one of the most wonderful
scenes that our history records.[825] That history records not a few
cases of popular canonization; neither pope nor king could hinder Earl
Waltheof and Earl Simon from working signs and wonders on behalf of
the folk for whom they had died.[826] But nowhere else do we read of a
popular excommunication. William Rufus, as I have more than once
remarked, had never been openly cut off from the communion of the
Church. He had died indeed unshriven and unabsolved, but so had many a
better man in the endless struggles of those rough days. There was no
formal ground for refusing to his corpse or to his soul the rites, the
prayers, the offerings, which were the portion of the meanest of the
faithful. But a common thought came on the minds of all men that for
William Rufus those charitable rites could be of none avail. His foul
life, his awful death, was taken as a sign that he was smitten by a
higher judgement than that of Popes and Councils. A crowd of all
orders, ranks, and sexes, brought together by wonder or pity――we will
not deem that they came in scorn or triumph――met the humble funeral
procession, and followed the royal corpse to the Old Minster. The dead
man had been a king; the consecrating oil had been poured on his head;
his body was therefore allowed to pass within the hallowed walls, and
was laid with all speed in a grave beneath the central tower. But in
those rites, at once sad and cheerful, which accompany the burial of
the lowliest of baptized men, the lord of England and Normandy had no
share. No bell was rung; no mass was said; no offerings were made for
the soul which was deemed to have passed beyond the reach even of
eternal mercy. No man took from the hoard which Rufus had filled by
wrong to win the prayers of the poor for him by almsgiving. Men deemed
that for him prayer was too late; no scattering abroad of the treasure
by the hands of others could atone for the wrong by which the treasure
had first been brought together. Many looked on; but few mourned. None
wept for him but the mercenaries who received his pay, and the baser
partners of his foul vices. They would gladly have torn his slayer in
pieces, but he was already far away out of their reach. Thus unwept,
unprayed for, a byeword, an astonishment, and a hissing, the Red King
lay beneath the pavement of the minster of St. Swithhun. A few years
later the tower under which he lay crumbled and fell. Men said that it
fell because so foul a corpse lay beneath it.[827]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Portents at William’s death.]
[Sidenote: Dream of Abbot Hugh of Clugny. July 31, 1100.]
[Sidenote: Vision of Anselm’s doorkeeper. August 1.]
[Sidenote: News brought to Anselm’s clerk. August 2.]
[Sidenote: Vision of Count William of Mortain. August 2.]
But as portents had gone before the fall of the Red King, so portents
did not wait for the crumbling of Walkelin’s tower to startle men in
strange ways with the news that he had fallen. That news, so say the
legends of the time, was known in strange ways in far-off places, long
before the tidings could have been brought by the utmost speed of man;
sooner, it would seem, than the moment when the arrow hit its designed
or unwitting mark. Already on the last day of July, the holy abbot
Hugh of Clugny was able to tell Anselm that he had seen in a dream the
King of the English brought before the throne of God, accused, judged,
and condemned to eternal damnation.[828] The next day, the night of
the kalends of August, a bright youth stood before Anselm’s
door-keeper at Lyons, as he strove to sleep, and asked if he wished to
hear the news. The news was that the strife between King William and
Archbishop Anselm was over.[829] The next day, the day of the King’s
death, one of the Archbishop’s clerks was at the matin service,
singing with his eyes shut. He felt a small paper put into his hand
and a voice bade him read. He looked up; the bearer of the paper was
gone; but he read the words, “King William is dead.”[830] Within our
own island the news was said to have been spread abroad in yet
stranger ways. At the same hour when King William went forth to hunt
in the New Forest, his cousin Count William of Mortain went forth for
his sport also in some of his hunting-grounds in Cornwall. He too
found himself by chance alone, apart from any of his comrades. No
archer from Poix crossed his path, but a sight far more fearful. A
huge goat, shaggy and black, met him, bearing on his back a king――how
was his kingship marked?――black and naked, and wounded in the midst of
his breast. The Count adjured the beast in the holiest name to say
what all this meant.[831] The power of speech was not lacking to the
monster. “I bear,” he answered, “your king, rather your tyrant,
William the Red, to his doom. For I am the evil spirit, I am the
avenger of the wickedness with which he raged against the Church of
Christ, and I brought about his death, at the bidding of the blessed
Alban, protomartyr of England, who made his moan to the Lord, because
this man sinned beyond measure in the island which he had been the
first to hallow.”[832] From what mint this wild tale comes it is
needless to add. The house of Saint Alban was only one of thirteen
abbeys which the King had kept vacant to receive their revenues.[833]
But the other twelve were less rich in that special growth both of
legend and of genuine history which adorns the house of the
protomartyr.
§ 2. _The First Days of Henry._
_August 2――November 11, 1100._
[Sidenote: Vacancy of the throne.]
[Sidenote: Claims of Robert by the treaty of 1091.]
[Sidenote: Such claims little regarded.]
[Sidenote: Choice confined to the house of the Conqueror.]
[Sidenote: No thought of either Eadgar.]
[Sidenote: Choice between Robert and Henry.]
[Sidenote: Claims of Henry; the only son of a king.]
[Sidenote: His personal merits.]
[Sidenote: Speedy election of Henry.]
The throne was again vacant; and now came the question which
Englishmen knew so well whenever the throne was vacant, Whom should
they choose to fill it? There was indeed an instrument in being, dated
nine years before, by which it had been agreed that, if either Robert
or William died without lawful issue, the survivor should succeed to
the dominions of his brother.[834] But Englishmen had never allowed
their most precious birthright to be thus lightly signed away
beforehand. And many men of Norman birth must by this time have put on
the feelings of Englishmen on this point as on many others. With the
great mass of both races there could have been no doubt at all as to
the right man to place upon the vacant throne. By this time, we may be
sure, all thought had passed away of choosing outside the line of the
Conqueror; and if such a thought had come into the head of any man,
there was no candidate who could have been brought forward. The elder
Eadgar was far away on his crusade, and no one was likely to think of
sending to Scotland to offer the crown to his nephew. His nieces were
near at hand; but the thought of a female ruler did not come into
men’s minds till the next generation. Within the house of the
Conqueror there were two claimants. Robert had whatever right the
treaty could give him, a better right undoubtedly than any which he
could put forward as the eldest son of his father. But a paper claim
of this kind went for little when the man who asserted it was far
away, and when, had he been at hand, everything except the letter of
the treaty was against him. It went for naught when there, on the very
spot, was the man whom every sign marked out for kingship. There among
them was the only man――unless indeed they had gone to Norway to seek
for the younger Harold――who was the son of a crowned King of the
English. There was the one man of the reigning house who, born on
English soil of the Norman stock, could be looked on as a countryman
by Normans and English alike. There was the man who, while his
brothers had, in different ways, so deeply misgoverned on their
several sides of the sea, had shown, by his wise rule of a small
dominion, how far better suited he was than either of them to be
entrusted with the rule of a mighty kingdom. The Count of the
Côtentin, Henry the Ætheling, Henry the Clerk, was the man whose name
spoke alike to English and to Norman hearts. To the Normans he was the
son of their conquering Duke, the descendant of the dukes that had
been before him, the man who had made one spot of Norman ground
prosperous while anarchy tore the rest in pieces. To the English he
was their own Ætheling, the one son of their king, their countryman,
as they fondly deemed, speaking the tongue of Ælfred, sent to renew
the law of Eadward. With such a candidate at their doors, the bit of
diplomatic parchment was torn to the winds. No time was to be lost;
the land could not go without a king. The work was done speedily and
decisively. The record which tells how the late king died in the midst
of his unright, without shrift, without atonement, goes on to say, “On
the Thursday was he slain and on the morrow was he buried; and, after
that he buried was, the Witan that nigh at hand were his brother Henry
to king chose.”[835]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Story of Henry on the day of William’s death.]
[Sidenote: Henry hastes to Winchester.]
[Sidenote: William of Breteuil maintains the claim of Robert.]
[Sidenote: Popular feeling for Henry.]
[Sidenote: Formal meeting for the election. August 3.]
On the day of the Red King’s fall Count Henry was hunting in the New
Forest, but not in the same immediate part of it as his brother. The
tale ran that the string of his bow broke, that he went to the house
of a churl to get wherewithal to mend it. While the bowstring is
mending, an old woman of the house asks one of the Count’s companions
who his master was. He answers that he is Henry, brother of the king
of the land. She tells them that she knows by augury that the King’s
brother shall soon be king himself, and bids them remember her
words.[836] Henry turns again to his sport, but, as he draws near to
the wood, men meet him, one, two, three, then nine and ten, telling
him of the King’s death.[837] In this account, he goes in grief to the
place where the corpse lay;[838] a more likely version carries him
straight to the hoard at Winchester, where, as lawful heir of the
kingdom, he demands the keys at the hands of the guard.[839] The tale
reminds us of Cæsar and Metellus.[840] William of Breteuil withstands
the demand. He pleads the elder birth of Robert and the homage which
both Henry and himself had done to him. Robert had waged wars far off
for the love of God; he was now on his way to take his crown and
kingdom in peace.[841] A fierce strife arose; a crowd swiftly
gathered, and it was soon seen on which side the feelings of the
people lay. Men pressed together from all quarters to swell the
company of him who in their eyes was the lawful heir claiming his
right. The voice of England――so much of England as had heard the
news――rose high against the stranger who dared to withstand the
English Ætheling, the son of a crowned king born in the land. Thus,
four-and-thirty years after the great battle, Englishmen still looked
on the son of William Fitz-Osbern, nay on the son of William the Great
born to a duke in Normandy, as outlandish men. But the son of William
the Great, born to a king in their own land, they claimed as their own
countryman. Strengthened by the favour of the people, the Ætheling put
his hand on his sword’s hilt; he would endure no vain excuses to keep
him out of the inheritance of his father.[842] A stop seems to have
been put to this open strife, perhaps by night, perhaps by the coming
of the lowly funeral pomp of the fallen king on the Friday morning.
The unhallowed ceremony over, the Witan came together in a more
regular assembly for the formal choice of a king.
[Sidenote: Division of the assembly;]
[Sidenote: English and Norman supporters of Henry;]
[Sidenote: supporters of Robert.]
[Sidenote: Comparison with the assembly after the death of Cnut. 1035.]
[Sidenote: The divided kingdom now impossible.]
[Sidenote: Henry chosen;]
[Sidenote: influence of Henry Earl of Warwick.]
The place of their meeting, whether in the minster or in the king’s
palace, is not recorded.[843] Wherever it was, other voices were now
to be heard besides those of the Englishmen of Winchester and the
coasts thereof. These called with one voice for their own Ætheling;
but the voices of the Norman lords were by no means of one accord.
Some of the immediate companions of the late king had hastened at once
on his fall to pledge themselves to the cause of Henry. But in the
assembly which now came together a strong party, Normans we may be
sure to a man, supported the cause of Robert. There are few assemblies
of which we would more gladly hear the details than of this, in which
the claims of two candidates for the crown were debated, not without
fierce strife, but at least without bloodshed. We are reminded of the
assembly which, sixty-five years before, peaceably decided between the
claims of Harthacnut and the first Harold.[844] But then the question
was settled by a division of the kingdom; now such a thought is not
breathed. The Conqueror had made England a realm one and indivisible;
it was doubtful to which of his sons it was to pass, but, to whichever
it passed, it was to pass whole. Unluckily, when debates concerned the
kingdom only, without touching any ecclesiastical question, no Eadmer
or William Fitz-Stephen was found to report them. We know only the
result. Henry was chosen, and he largely owed his election to one
special friend. This was his namesake Henry, Earl of Warwick, the
younger son of the old Roger of Beaumont and brother of the more
famous Count of Meulan, soon to be Earl of Leicester. Earl Henry and
his wife Margaret of Mortagne bear a good character among the writers
of their time, and they seem to have been designed for a more peaceful
age than that in which their lot was cast. Chiefly by the influence of
Henry of Warwick, Henry of Coutances and Domfront was chosen to the
English crown. The work was almost as speedy as the burial of Eadward,
the election and the crowning of Harold. Quite as speedy it could not
be, when the Gemót of election was held at Winchester, while the
precedents of three reigns made it seem matter of necessity that the
unction and coronation should be done at Westminster. Before the sun
set on the day after the death of Rufus, England had again, not indeed
a full king, but an undisputed king-elect.
[Sidenote: The hoard opened to the king-elect.]
[Sidenote: He grants the bishopric of Winchester to William Giffard.]
[Sidenote: Consecrated 1107; died 1129.]
Against a king-elect the gates of the hoard could no longer be shut.
Not five thousand pounds only, but the whole treasure of the kingdom
was now Henry’s. His first act was to stop one of the many sources by
which the hoard was filled. One of them was found in the revenues of
the vacant bishopric of the city in which they were met. Henry, still
only chosen and not crowned, took on him to do one act of royal
authority which all men would hail as a sign that the new reign was
not to be as the last. As the uncrowned Ætheling Eadgar had confirmed
the election of Abbot Brand by the monks of Peterborough,[845] so the
uncrowned Ætheling Henry bestowed the staff of the see of Winchester
on the late king’s Chancellor, William Giffard, doubtless a kinsman of
the aged Earl of Buckingham. In his appointment we may perhaps see a
wish on the part of a king who was emphatically the choice of the
English people to conciliate at once the Norman nobles and the royal
officials.[846] But seven years were to pass before the bishop-elect
appointed by the king-elect became a full bishop by the rite of
consecration. And what we should hardly have looked for in a minister
of the Red King, some of those years were years of confessorship and
exile endured by the new prelate on behalf of an ecclesiastical
principle.[847]
[Sidenote: Need for hastening the coronation.]
[Sidenote: Henry crowned at Westminster. August 5, 1100.]
[Sidenote: Form of his oath.]
[Sidenote: He swears to undo the evils of his brother’s reign.]
[Sidenote: Joy at Henry’s accession.]
But Henry, Ætheling and Count, was not long to remain a mere
king-elect. The interregnum ended on the fourth day. It was not a time
to tarry; it was needful that the land should have a full king at the
first moment that the rite of his hallowing could be gone through. It
was known that Robert was on his way back from Apulia, and Henry and
his counsellors feared lest, if the Duke should show himself in
England or even in Normandy before the crown was safe on the new
king’s brow, the Norman nobles in England might repent of an election
in which it is clear that they had not very heartily agreed.[848] From
Winchester therefore Henry went to London with all speed, in company
with Count Robert of Meulan, who kept under the new reign the same
post of specially trusted counsellor which he had held during the
reign of Rufus.[849] On the Sunday after that memorable Thursday,
Count Henry was admitted to the kingly office in the West Minster. As
the Primate was far away, the rite of consecration was performed by
the highest suffragan of his province, Maurice Bishop of London.[850]
The form of Henry’s coronation oath seems, like the oaths of his
father and his brother,[851] to have had a special reference to the
circumstances of the time. It is the oath of a reformer, of a king who
has to bring back right after a season of wrong. As the memory of
Rufus had been branded in his burial as the memory of no other king
ever was, so it was branded no less in the coronation rites of his
successor. The new king swore, as usual, to hold the best law that on
any king’s day before him stood; but he swore further to God and to
all folk to put aside the unright that in his brother’s time was.[852]
These weighty promises made, Bishop Maurice of London hallowed Henry
to king, and, according to the great law of his father, all men in
this land bowed to him and sware oaths and became his men.[853] The
work was now done; the diplomatic meshes of nine years before had been
broken asunder by the strong will of the English people. England had
again a king born on her own soil, a king of her own rearing, her own
choosing, King of the English in a truer sense than those who went
either before him or after him for some generations. Great was the
gladness as the news spread through the length and breadth of the
land. The long hopes of the English, the dark sayings of the Britons,
were fulfilled in the coming of the king sworn before all things to
undo the wrongs of the evil time. The good state was brought back; the
golden age had come again; the days of unlaw had passed away; the Lion
of Justice reigned.[854]
[Sidenote: He puts forth his Charter.]
[Sidenote: Its provisions.]
[Sidenote: The Church to be free;]
[Sidenote: ecclesiastical vacancies.]
Before the Sunday of his consecration had passed, King Henry had put
the solemn promises which he had made before the altar into the shape
of a legal document. That very day he set forth in writing that famous
charter which formed the groundwork of the yet more famous charter of
John.[855] I have commented on its main provisions elsewhere, and I
have tried to show how it at once establishes the new doctrines as to
the tenure of land, and promises to reform the abuses to which they
had already led.[856] I will now go through its main provisions in
order. First, Henry, King of the English, does his faithful people to
wit that he has been crowned king by the common counsel of the barons
of the whole realm of England.[857] He had found the realm ground down
with unrighteous exactions. For the fear of God and for the love which
he has to his people, he first of all makes the Church of God free. He
will not sell the Church nor put her to farm.[858] When an archbishop,
bishop, or abbot, dies, he will take nothing during the vacancy from
the demesne of his church or from its tenants. And he will put away
the evil customs with which the realm of England was oppressed, which
evil customs he goes on to set down in order.
[Sidenote: Reliefs.]
Secondly, he touches the question of reliefs. The heir of lands held
in chief of the crown shall no longer, as was done in his brother’s
time, be constrained to _redeem_ his land at an arbitrary price; he
shall _relieve_ it by a just and lawful relief.[859] And as the King
does by his tenants-in-chief, he calls on his tenants-in-chief to do
in their turn by their under-tenants.
[Sidenote: Marriage.]
Thirdly, he comes to the abuse of the lord’s rights in the matter of
marriage.[860] He will take nothing for licence of marriage, nor will
he meddle with the right of his tenants to dispose of their daughters
or other kinswomen, unless the proposed bridegroom should be the
King’s enemy. The rights of the childless widow are also secured.
[Sidenote: Wardship.]
The fourth clause touches the case of the widow with children. The
mother herself or some fitting kinsman shall have the wardship.[861]
And as the King does by his barons, so shall they do in the case of
the daughters and widows of their men.
[Sidenote: The coinage.]
Fifthly, the coinage is to be brought back to the state in which it
was in the days of King Eadward, and _justice_ is denounced against
false moneyers and other retailers of false coin.[862] Sharp justice
it was, as we know from the annals of Henry’s reign.
[Sidenote: Debts and suits.]
Sixthly, The King forgives all debts owing to his brother, and stops
all suits set on foot by him. This is not the first time in which it
is presumed that claims made by the crown must be unjust. Henry
excepts debts arising out of the ordinary farming of the crown lands;
he excepts also anything that any man had agreed to pay for the
inheritances or other property of others.[863] Does this refer to
property confiscated and sold by the King? Payments which had been
made in relief for a man’s own inheritance are specially
forgiven.[864]
[Sidenote: Wills.]
Seventhly, he confirms the free right of bequest of personal property.
If a man, through warfare or sickness, dies intestate, his wife,
children, kinsfolk, and lawful men, are to dispose of his money as
they may think best for his soul.[865]
[Sidenote: Amercements.]
The eighth provision goes back a step further than the others. It
cancels the practice of both Williams, and goes back in the most
marked way to earlier times. If one of the King’s barons or other men
incurred forfeiture, he should not bind himself to be at the King’s
mercy, as had been done in the time of his father and brother; he
should be fined a fixed amount according to custom, as was done in the
days of the kings before his father.[866]
[Sidenote: Murders.]
Ninthly, the King forgives all _murders_ up to the day of his
coronation. That is to say, he forgives all payments due from the
hundreds according to the special law made by his father for the
protection of his foreign followers.[867] For the future the payment
shall be according to the law of King Eadward.[868]
[Sidenote: The forests.]
Tenthly comes the one illiberal provision in the document. “By the
common consent of my barons, I have kept the forests in my own hands,
as my father held them.”[869] Here, where the King’s personal pleasure
was concerned, we hear nothing of the law of King Eadward or of the
practice of yet earlier kings.
[Sidenote: Privilege of the knights.]
[Sidenote: Effect of the provision.]
[Sidenote: Growth of the country gentry.]
[Sidenote: Policy of Henry towards the second order.]
The eleventh clause is a remarkable one. It does not speak, like the
others, of reforming abuses or of going back to the practice of some
earlier time. The King, of his own free will, bestows a certain
privilege on one class of his subjects. Knights who held their lands
by military service are to be free, as far as their demesne lands are
concerned, from all gelds and other burthens. This the King grants to
them as his own gift. In return for so great a boon, he calls on them
to stand ready with horses and arms for his service and the defence of
his kingdom.[870] This boon seems meant for a class whom it was very
important for Henry to attach to his interest, the men namely of both
races who were of knightly rank but not higher. Many of them were his
tenants-in-chief; those who held only of other lords were still his
men by virtue of the law of Salisbury. It was his policy to strengthen
both classes in opposition to the great nobles whom he knew to be
disaffected to him. It may not be too much to see in this clause of
Henry’s charter an important stage in the developement of an idea
which is peculiar to England, the idea of the gentleman who has no
pretensions to be a nobleman. The knights of Henry’s charter are the
representatives of the thegns of Domesday, the forerunners of the
country gentlemen of later times. Holding a place between the great
barons and the mass of the people, and again between the greatest and
the smallest of the king’s tenants-in-chief――largely Norman by
descent, but also largely English――they were well suited to become the
leaders of the people, as they worthily showed themselves in our early
parliaments. Their existence and importance, as a class separate from
the great barons, did much to establish that distinctive and happy
feature of English political life, which spread freedom over the whole
land, instead of shutting it up within a few favoured towns. The
existence of the knight, as something separate from the baron,
secured, not only his own freedom, but the freedom of land-owners
smaller than himself. It helped to hinder the growth of the hard and
fast line which in France divided the _gentilhomme_ from the
_roturier_. It was part of the policy of Henry to raise particular men
of this second rank, while he broke the power of the great barons of
the Conquest. This clause shows that it was also his policy to
strengthen and to win to his side this class as a class.
[Sidenote: The King’s Peace.]
[Sidenote: The Law of Eadward.]
[Sidenote: The Conqueror’s amendments.]
[Sidenote: The alleged Laws of Henry.]
Of the other three clauses of the charter, the first two are general,
the last is temporary. The twelfth clause establishes firm peace
through the whole kingdom. The thirteenth expresses that mixture of
old things and new which marks the time. Henry lays down the great
basis of all later English jurisprudence; “I restore to you the law of
King Eadward, with those amendments which my father made with the
consent of his barons.”[871] The law of Henry was to be the old law of
England, traditionally called by the name of the king to whose days
men looked back as to the golden age, but modified by the changes, or
rather additions, which were brought in by the few genuine statutes of
the Conqueror.[872] Here, as throughout, Henry sets forth his full
purpose to reign as an English king, and he carefully puts forward the
nature of his kingship as a strict continuation of the kingship of
Eadward and of the kings before Eadward. We have seen that the
collection which goes by the name of the Laws of Henry is no real code
of Henry’s issuing.[873] But it breathes the spirit of this clause and
of the other clauses of the charter. It shows how English, in theory
at least, the government of Henry was meant to be.
[Sidenote: Amnesty.]
The fifteenth and last clause is a kind of amnesty for any
irregularity which might have happened during the short interregnum.
Two days and parts of two other days had passed after the peace of
King William――if we may so speak of the days of unlaw――had come to an
end, and before the peace of King Henry had begun. If any man had
during that time taken anything which belonged to the King or to any
one else, he might restore it without any fine; if he kept it after
the proclamation, he was to be heavily fined.[874]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Witnesses to the charter.]
Such was the famous charter of Henry, the document to which Stephen
Langton appealed as the birthright of English freemen.[875] It was
witnessed on the day of the crowning by the bishop who had officiated,
Maurice of London, by Gundulf Bishop (of Rochester), William
Bishop-elect (of Winchester), Henry Earl (of Warwick), Simon Earl (of
Northampton), Walter Giffard, Robert of Montfort, Roger Bigod, and
Henry of Port.[876] Such names look forward and backward. There is
already a Bigod, forefather of the Earl who would neither go nor
hang.[877] There is a Simon, and if the likeness of names is merely
accidental, the tradition is carried back in another way when we
remember that Earl Simon of Northampton was the son-in-law of
Waltheof.[878] The fewness of the names may perhaps show that the
coronation of Henry, celebrated as it was amidst a burst of popular
joy, was but scantily attended by the great men of the realm. The
whole thing was almost as sudden as the death of Eadward and the
election of Harold, and it did not, like those events, happen while
the Witan were actually in session. The summons, or even the news,
could have gone through a very small part only of the kingdom. One
would be glad to know how men heard in distant shires, in Henry’s own
Yorkshire for instance, not only that the oppressor was gone, but that
the new king was crowned, pledged by his oath and his seal to give his
land a new time of peace and righteousness.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Appointments to abbeys.]
[Sidenote: Saint Eadmund’s and Ely.]
[Sidenote: Herlwin Abbot of Glastonbury. 1100-1120.]
[Sidenote: Faricius Abbot of Abingdon. 1100-1117.]
The new King had taken upon himself to undo the evils of his brother’s
reign, to bring back the days of Eadward, to reign as an English king.
One step towards the restoration of the good state was to fill the
churches which his brother had sacrilegiously kept vacant. The see of
Winchester he had filled already; he now began to fill the thirteen
abbeys which Rufus had held in his hands on the day of his death.
Several were filled before the year was out; two at least were filled
on the very day of his coronation. These were the abbey of Saint
Eadmund, void by the death of its abbot Baldwin, and that of Ely,
which had stood void for seven years since the death of the aged abbot
Simeon.[879] The staff of Saint Eadmund was now placed in the hand of
Robert, a young monk of Bec, who is described as a son, seemingly a
natural son, of Earl Hugh of Chester.[880] That of Ely was given to
Richard, another monk of Bec, son of Richard of Clare.[881] In these
appointments and in some others we again see the need in which Henry
stood of pleasing the great nobles, even at the cost of sinning
against ecclesiastical rule. In the case of the appointment to Saint
Eadmund’s we are distinctly told that the King’s nomination was made
against the will of the monks, and a little later Anselm thought it
his duty to remove both Robert and Richard from their offices. Two
other prelates, appointed before any long time had passed, are of
greater personal fame. The name of Herlwin of Caen, who now received
the staff of Glastonbury, lives in local memory as a great
builder.[882] And the Italian Faricius, now placed in the vacant stall
of Abingdon, figures among the most renowned abbots of his house,
famous amongst his other merits for his skill in the healing art.
Oddly enough, his skill in this way kept him back from higher honour.
Had Faricius been less cunning in leechcraft, he might have been
Archbishop of Canterbury.[883]
[Sidenote: Anselm and Flambard.]
[Sidenote: Flambard imprisoned in the Tower.]
[Sidenote: The King’s inner council.]
[Sidenote: Roger, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury.]
But to undo the evils of the days of unlaw and to reign as an English
king, something more was needed than to put men of Norman, or even
Italian, birth in possession of English abbeys. Towards carrying out
the former of these objects, Henry had a criminal to punish and a
sufferer to restore. Towards carrying out the second, he had a wife to
marry. These three events pretty well filled up the rest of the year.
Henry had two bishops to deal with, who needed to be dealt with in two
very different ways. They were between them the living representatives
of the late rule of unright. The one was the embodiment of what its
agents did, the other was the embodiment of what its victims
underwent. The King had promised to put away the unrighteousnesses of
his brother and of Randolf Flambard; he began by putting away their
surviving author. By the advice of those about him, the Bishop of
Durham, the dregs of wickedness, as he is called in the vigorous words
of one of our writers, was sent as a prisoner to the Tower of
London.[884] This was most likely not the first case, but it is the
first recorded case, in which the great fortress of the Conqueror was
used as a state-prison for great and notable offenders. Randolf
Flambard heads the long list of its unwilling inmates, few of whom
better deserved their place there than he did. We hear nothing of any
claim of ecclesiastical privilege on behalf of the man who had brought
God’s Church low. Flambard was not allowed the advantage of any of the
legal subtleties which his predecessor in his see had known how to
play off so skilfully, and which, one would think, he could have
played off more skilfully still. We do not even hear whether the
Bishop of Durham was summoned before any court of any kind. The
accounts read rather as if his imprisonment was simply a stretch of
the royal power in answer to a popular demand. The Tower may even have
been the best place for Flambard’s safety, as it was the best place
for the safety of Jeffreys, as understood by Jeffreys himself.[885]
The words which say that the act was done by the advice of those about
the King are also worthy of notice. The King’s inner council must
certainly have contained the two Beaumont brothers, the subtle Count
of Meulan and the upright Earl of Warwick. It contained Roger the
Bigod, more honoured in his descendants than in himself. It contained
too some of Henry’s old friends from his Norman fief, Richard of
Redvers and Earl Hugh of Chester. We are told that as soon as the news
of the death of Rufus was known in Normandy, several of the great men
who were there, specially the Earls of Chester and Shrewsbury,
hastened to England to acknowledge Henry.[886] We do not find Robert
of Bellême among Henry’s inner counsellors; we do find Hugh of
Avranches. And to the list we may also most likely add the
bishop-elect of Winchester, William Giffard, a tried court official,
though one who afterwards showed that he could suffer for a principle.
And a man who was to be more famous than all of them, the patriarch of
the long line of English Justiciars and Judges, the poor clerk who was
to be presently the all-powerful Bishop Roger of Salisbury, may have
already given his voice among men who were as yet so far above him in
worldly place.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The news of the King’s death brought to Anselm.]
We are told that the imprisonment of the Bishop of Durham was one of
two acts which the new King did in order that nothing might be wanting
to the universal joy at his accession.[887] The other was the recall
of the Archbishop of Canterbury. We have seen that, in legendary
belief at least, the death of Rufus was very speedily made known, if
not to Anselm himself, at least to his friends.[888] The news was
presently brought to him in a more ordinary way by two monks, one of
Bec, one of Canterbury. His head-quarters were now at Lyons, but he
was at the moment staying at a monastery called God’s House.[889]
There the messengers met him, and told him that King William was dead.
Anselm was overwhelmed at the tidings, and burst forth into the
bitterest weeping. Those who stood by wondered; but he told them with
a voice broken with sobs that, by the truth which a servant of God
ought not to transgress, he would far rather have died himself than
that William should die as he had died.[890]
[Sidenote: He is invited to come back by his own monks,]
[Sidenote: and by the King.]
[Sidenote: Importance of Henry’s letter.]
[Sidenote: Its popular language.]
[Sidenote: Signatures to the letter.]
Anselm now went back to Lyons, where another monk of Canterbury met
him, bringing with him a formal letter from the convent of the
metropolitan church, praying him, now that the tyrant was dead, to
come back without delay to comfort his children.[891] He took counsel
with his friend Archbishop Hugh, and by his advice began his return to
England, to the great grief, we are told, of the whole city of Lyons
and all the lands thereabouts.[892] He had not reached Clugny when he
was met by a still more important bearer of tidings. A messenger came
in the name of the new King of the English and his lords, bearing a
royal letter, calling on Anselm to come back, and even blaming his
delay in not coming sooner.[893] We have its text, every word of which
deserves to be studied, as showing how popular the constitution of
England still was in theory, and what was the kind of language which
had to be used by one who was called on to play the part of a popular
king. Henry, in setting forth his right to the crown, uses more
popular language than is to be found in the charter itself. There he
spoke of the choice of the barons; in the letter to Anselm he tells
the Archbishop that his brother King William is dead, and that he is
chosen king by the will of God and by the clergy and people of
England.[894] He excuses his hasty coronation in the Archbishop’s
absence on the ground of the urgency of the time. He would more gladly
have received the blessing at his crowning from him than from any one
else; but the necessity of the moment forbade; enemies had arisen
against him and against the people whom he had to rule; his barons
therefore and his whole people had thought that the coronation could
not be delayed. He had therefore, against his will, received the rite
from Anselm’s vicars, and he trusted that Anselm himself would not be
displeased.[895] Himself and the whole people of England, all whose
souls were entrusted to Anselm’s care, prayed him to come back with
all speed to give them the benefit of his counsel.[896] He committed
himself and the whole people of England to the counsel of Anselm and
of those who ought to consult with Anselm for the common good.[897] He
would have sent messengers with money of his own for Anselm’s use;
only since the death of his brother the whole world is so stirred
against the kingdom of England that he could not send any one with any
safety.[898] Anselm is earnestly prayed not to pass through Normandy,
but to sail from Whitsand and land at Dover. There some of the King’s
barons shall be ready to meet him with money which will enable him to
pay anything that he may have borrowed.[899] The letter ends in a
pious and imploring strain; “Hasten then, father, to come, lest our
mother the church of Canterbury, so long tossed and desolate for your
sake, should any longer suffer the loss of souls.” The signatures to
the letter should be noticed. It is said to be signed by other bishops
and barons as well, but the actual names are Gerard Bishop of
Hereford, William Bishop-elect of Winchester, William of Warelwast, of
whom we have heard so often, Henry Earl of Warwick, in some sort a
milder king-maker, Robert Fitz-hamon, and his brother Hamon the
_dapifer_.[900] It is worth notice that the Achitophel of Meulan does
not set his name either to this letter or to the charter. Was it to
give as national a character as might be to both documents that
Robert, as yet only a French count and not an English earl, abstained
from putting his name to them? One can fancy no other reason for its
absence from the earlier document. By the time the letter to Anselm
was sent, the Count of Meulan’s presence may well have been needed in
Normandy.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Dangers of the King and kingdom.]
[Sidenote: Intrigues of the Norman nobles with Duke Robert.]
[Sidenote: Renewed anarchy in Normandy on William’s death.]
The dangers which, according to King Henry’s letter, beset the kingdom
of England may have been somewhat exaggerated in his picture of them;
but they were perfectly real. And no description of them could be
better than that which the King gave when he spoke of them specially
as dangers which beset the King and the people whom he had to rule. It
was most truly the King and the people of England who were threatened
by the intrigues of the great Norman nobles with the restored ruler of
Normandy――if ruler he may be called. The effects of the Red King’s
death were exactly opposite in Normandy and in England. In England his
reign of unright was at once changed for a rule as strong and more
righteous. In Normandy, which had seen the better side of him, where
he had brought back peace of some kind after the anarchy of Robert’s
first reign, anarchy came back again the moment the news of his death
came. Within a week the forces of Evreux and Conches were again in
motion, this time indeed not in order to attack one another, but for a
joint raid against the lands of the Norman Beaumont, the possessions
of the Count of Meulan. The Count, we are told, had abused his
influence with Rufus to do both of them some wrongs, which, while
Rufus lived, they were unable to avenge.[901] They now took the law
into their own hands; so did everybody else. Normandy again became the
same confused field of battle, with every man’s hand against every
other man, which it had been before William the Red at least did it
the service of putting one tyrant in the room of many.[902]
[Sidenote: Return of Robert to Normandy. September, 1100.]
[Sidenote: His renewed no-government.]
[Sidenote: Henry keeps his own fief.]
[Sidenote: War between Henry and Robert.]
[Sidenote: Intrigues of the Normans in England with Robert.]
[Sidenote: Return of Anselm. September 23, 1100.]
To this disturbed land Duke Robert came back in the month of
September, bringing with him his wise and beautiful Duchess from
Conversana. They went to Saint Michael in-Peril-of-the-Sea to give
thanks for their safe return,[903] and Robert was held to have again
taken possession of his duchy. The English Chronicler says that he was
received blithely;[904] it was certainly not the interest of those
whom a ruler like Henry would have checked in their evil ways to make
any opposition to his fresh acknowledgement. As soon as Robert was
again in his native land, all the energy and conduct which he had
shown in the East once more forsook him. The old idleness, the old
wastefulness, came back again. He had already squandered all the money
which he had received from his father-in-law; luckily the death of
Rufus relieved him from the necessity of repaying the sum for which
the duchy had been temporarily pledged. It had not been alienated for
ever, and Henry had no claim to it during Robert’s life. Robert
therefore had no difficulty in taking possession――such possession as
he could take――of all Normandy, except the districts which formed the
fief which Rufus had granted to Henry. There, in the lands of
Coutances, Avranches, and Bayeux, King Henry’s men still kept the land
for him, and withstood all Robert’s attempts to dislodge them.[905] A
border warfare thus began between the brothers almost from the first
moment of the reign of Henry, the second reign of Robert. And it would
seem that, though there was no open outbreak till the next year, the
turbulent Norman nobles in England were, from the very beginning,
making Robert the centre of their intrigues against a prince whose
rule was eminently inconvenient for them.[906] The Lion of Justice was
exactly the kind of ruler for whom they did not wish; Robert, who
would put no check upon them, was far more to their tastes. Could they
only put him on the throne, they might have their own way in all
things in England as well as in Normandy. The same schemes which
disturbed the second year of the reign of Rufus disturbed the reign of
Henry from the very beginning. It was in the midst of all these
disorders, directly after Robert’s return, that Henry’s letter was
sent to Anselm. It was therefore not without reason that the King
warned the Archbishop not to come back through Normandy, but to make
his way to Whitsand. To Whitsand Anselm accordingly came, and crossed
safely to Dover a few days before Michaelmas.[907] The whole land from
which he had been now nearly three years absent received him with a
burst of universal joy.[908]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Connexion of Anselm with Norman history.]
The chief points in the primacy of Anselm had all along had a singular
connexion, by way of coincidence at least, with the changes of things
in the Norman duchy. It was when William was making ready for his
second Norman expedition that Anselm had first drawn on himself the
Red King’s anger by the alleged smallness of his gift towards its
cost.[909] It was just before the King set out that the Primate had
given him his most memorable rebuke.[910] The return of William was at
once followed by the interview at Gillingham[911] and the great
assembly at Rockingham. The collection of money for the final
occupation of the duchy did not directly lead to the second
dispute;[912] but the connexion of time is still marked. Rufus comes
back from Normandy to find fault with Anselm’s contingent of troops
for the Welsh war;[913] and he does not go again to the mainland for
the French and Cenomannian wars till after he has driven Anselm from
England. Now that the Red King is dead, everybody seems to come back
to his old place. Robert comes back to Rouen; Anselm to Canterbury.
And along with them, a third actor in our story, whom, like them,
Rufus had dispossessed, came back also. Before the year was out, Maine
was again free; Helias had won back city and castle without slash or
blow.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Helias returns to Le Mans.]
[Sidenote: The King’s garrison holds out in the royal tower.]
[Sidenote: Helias calls in Fulk of Anjou.]
[Sidenote: Siege of the tower;]
[Sidenote: courtesies between besieged and besiegers.]
[Sidenote: Conference between Walter and Helias.]
[Sidenote: The garrison know not whose men they are.]
[Sidenote: A truce is made; they apply to Robert,]
[Sidenote: and to Henry.]
[Sidenote: Surrender of the castle.]
As soon as the news of his enemy’s fall reached the Count of Maine in
some of those southern possessions from which he had never been
driven, he at once gathered a force and marched to Le Mans. But no
force was needed; the loyal city received its banished prince with all
joy.[914] But possession of the city did not give Helias possession of
the royal tower; that was still held by the garrison which had been
placed in it by the Red King. One of their commanders was a man whom
we know already, Walter of Rouen, the son of Ansgar.[915] The castle
was well provided with arms and provisions, and all that was needed
for defence. Helias, before undertaking a siege, sought the alliance
and help of Fulk of Anjou, whom he acknowledged as over-lord of
Maine.[916] The two counts sat down before the castle of the
Conqueror; but no strictly warlike operations followed. Besieged and
besiegers seem to have been on the most friendly terms. They sometimes
exchanged threats, but more commonly jokes. It was agreed between the
two parties that Count Helias should, whenever he chose, put on a
white tunic, and should, by the name of the White Bachelor, be
received within the tower.[917] Such was the chivalrous confidence
shown on both sides that the Count of Maine went in and out as he
chose, and much that was sportive and little that was hostile went on
between the two parties. At last Walter and his colleague
Haimeric[918] opened their minds to Helias. They were in exactly the
opposite case to the Confessor when he told the churl that he would
hurt him if he could.[919] They explained to their supposed enemy that
they could hurt him if they would, but that they had no mind to do so.
The ground and the defences of the castle gave them the stronger
position. They were not afraid of his artillery, and they could shower
down stones and arrows upon him at pleasure.[920] But they had no mind
to fight against one for whom they had a deep regard, especially as
they did not know for whom they were fighting. They had been the men
of the late King William; they did not now know whether they were the
men of King Henry of England or of Duke Robert of Normandy. They
proposed a truce, during which they might send messengers to both
their possible lords; when they got answers, they might settle what to
do.[921] The messenger came to Robert, and asked him whether he wished
to keep the royal tower of Le Mans or not. If he wished to keep it, he
must send a strong force to rescue it from its Angevin and Cenomannian
besiegers. The Duke, tired, we are told, with his long journeyings and
more anxious for the repose of his bed than for the labours of
war,[922] is made to give two somewhat contradictory reasons for
leaving matters alone. On the one hand, he was satisfied with the
duchy of Normandy; on the other hand, the nobles of England were
inviting him to come and take the crown of that kingdom. He told them
that they had better make an honourable peace with the besiegers. The
messenger, without going back to Le Mans, crossed to England, and told
King Henry exactly how matters stood. Henry was too busy at the moment
to meddle in affairs beyond the sea.[923] He rewarded the messenger,
he sent his thanks to the garrison, and left them to their own
discretion. When the answer came, a message was sent to the White
Bachelor, asking him to visit the tower. The day was now come when he
might rejoice in the possession of that for which he had long wished.
If he had any money in his hoard, he might now make a fine bargain. He
asked what they meant. They told him that he had not conquered them,
that they were quite able to withstand him, but that they had no lord
to serve and were quite willing to give up the castle to him. They
knew his worth and valour; they chose him of their own free will, and
made him that day truly Count of Maine.[924] They gave up the castle
and all that was in it; Helias of course treated them with all honour,
and gave them a strong guard to shelter them from any attacks on the
part of the citizens whose houses they had burned the year
before.[925]
[Sidenote: Last reign of Helias. 1100-1110.]
[Sidenote: His friendship for Henry.]
[Sidenote: His second marriage. 1109.]
[Sidenote: Later fortune of Maine.]
[Sidenote: Descent of the Angevin kings from Helias.]
Thus, after all struggles, Helias of La Flèche was at last undisputed
lord of the Cenomannian city and county. He reigned, in all honour and
seemingly in perfect friendship with Bishop Hildebert,[926] for ten
years longer. He was the firm friend, and in some sort the vassal, of
King Henry of England, and did him good service at Bayeux and at
Tinchebrai.[927] Under his second reign Maine seems to have been
peaceful; but there must have been some wars and fightings on its
borders, as we find Rotrou Count of Perche a prisoner in the
Conqueror’s tower.[928] The year before his death Helias married a
second wife, Agnes, the daughter of Duke William of Aquitaine and
widow of Alfonso King of Gallicia.[929] But his only child was
Eremberga, the daughter of his first wife Matilda of Château du Loir.
Helias, as he was the worthiest, was also the last, of the counts who
held Maine as a separate sovereignty, and who had for some generations
filled no small place in their own quarter of the world. Maine became
the heritage of his daughter, and passed to her husband the younger
Fulk, Count of Anjou and King of Jerusalem,[930] and to her son
Geoffrey Plantagenet. Thus Maine became an appendage to Anjou, to
Normandy, to England. And every sovereign of England, from the first
Angevin king onwards, could boast that he had in his veins, besides
the blood of William and Cerdic, the blood, less famous it may be, but
assuredly not less worthy, of Helias of Le Mans.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Meeting of Anselm and Henry;]
[Sidenote: beginning of fresh difficulties.]
[Sidenote: Changes in Anselm.]
[Sidenote: Comparison of the dispute between Anselm]
[Sidenote: and Rufus and the dispute between Anselm and Henry.]
[Sidenote: Henry calls on Anselm to do homage.]
Anselm landed in England after Helias had been received at Le Mans,
but before he had won back the royal tower. The King and the Primate
soon met, and difficulties at once arose between them. The truth is
that Anselm had come back, in some things, another man. Or rather the
man was the same; his gentleness, his firmness, his perfect
single-mindedness, had not changed a whit. But he had learned
doctrines at Rome and at Bari which had never been revealed to him at
Bec or at Canterbury. The tale of Anselm’s dispute with Henry, his
second banishment, his second return, goes beyond the prescribed
limits of our story, and I have pointed out its leading features
elsewhere.[931] There is hardly anything in which the difference
between William Rufus and Henry the First stands out more strongly.
But we are here concerned only with the very earliest stage of the
dispute, if indeed it is to be called a stage of the dispute at all.
Henry and Anselm met at Salisbury. The King received the Archbishop
with joy; he again excused himself by the necessities of the time for
having received the royal unction from another prelate. Anselm fully
admitted his excuses.[932] There was less agreement between them on
the next point which the King started. Henry called on Anselm to do
homage to him after the manner of his predecessors, and, in the
language of the time, to receive again the archbishopric at his
hands.[933]
[Sidenote: Phrase of receiving the archbishopric.]
[Sidenote: Effect of the new teaching on Anselm’s mind.]
This last phrase has, I think, sometimes been misunderstood. It has
nothing in common with the fresh commissions which the bishops of
Edward the Sixth’s day took out after the death of Henry the Eighth.
It has nothing whatever to do with the spiritual office; in this
phrase, as in so many others, by the “archbishopric” is to be
understood simply the temporalities of the see. These were at this
moment in the King’s hands through their seizure in the days of Rufus.
Since then a new reign had begun; England had a new king; her
inhabitants had a new lord; for the archbishop, like any other
subject, to become the man of the new king was simply according to the
law of Salisbury. For him to receive back his lands was his right; for
him to receive them as a fief was no more than he had already done at
the hands of the Red King. Anselm had then done without scruple all
that he was now asked to do. But since then the decrees of Piacenza
and Clermont, above all the decrees of Bari and Rome, where he had
been himself present, had been put forth. And by those decrees the
ancient customs of England were condemned, and the censures of the
Church were denounced against all who should conform to them. Anselm
deemed it his duty, in all single-mindedness, to obey the bidding of
Rome rather than the law of England. We may regret, but we can neither
wonder nor blame. Anselm, after all, was not an Englishman; he could
not help looking at things with œcumenical rather than with insular
eyes. He fairly told the king’s counsellors how matters stood; he was
bound by the new decrees. If Henry would accept them, there might be
perfect peace between them.[934] If not, he himself could be of no use
in England; he would have to refuse to communicate with any to whom
the King might give bishoprics or abbeys in the ancient fashion; he
could not stay in England on the terms of disobeying the Pope. He
asked of those to whom he spoke that the King would consider the
matter, and tell him his decision, that he might know which way to
turn himself.[935]
[Sidenote: Difficulties of Henry.]
[Sidenote: A truce made till Easter;]
[Sidenote: the Pope to be asked to allow the homage.]
[Sidenote: No personal scruple on Anselm’s part.]
[Sidenote: Effects of the reign of Rufus.]
[Sidenote: Abasement of the kingly power.]
Henry was now, at the very beginning of his reign, in a great strait.
He was naturally unwilling to give up one of the chief flowers of his
crown, one which had been handed down from all the kings before
him.[936] To give up the investiture of the churches and the homage of
their prelates would be to give up the half of his kingdom. On the
other hand, he felt that it would not do to quarrel with the
Archbishop at the very moment of his return to England, or to allow
him to leave England while he himself was not yet firm on his throne.
He feared――doing Anselm, we may be sure, utter injustice――that, if
Anselm left England, he might go to Robert, and take up his cause. It
would be perfectly easy, as he knew very well, to persuade Robert to
accept the new decrees. And on those terms, Anselm might, so the words
run, make Robert King of England[937]――that is, he might bestow on him
a consecration more regular than that which Henry had himself received
from the Bishop of London. It was therefore agreed on both sides to
make a truce or adjournment of all questions till the next Easter.
Meanwhile both King and Archbishop should send messengers to the Pope,
to pray him so to change his decrees as to allow the ancient customs
of the kingdom to stand.[938] We here see, on the one hand, that
Anselm still had no kind of scruple of his own about the homage and
investiture; it was with him simply a question of obedience to a
superior. Let Paschal withdraw the decrees of Urban, and Anselm was
perfectly ready to do by Henry as earlier archbishops had done by
earlier kings. On the other hand, we see how the temporal power had
been weakened and the spiritual power strengthened through the late
King’s abuse of the temporal power. Rufus had given the foreign
dominion a moral advantage, of which Henry now felt the sting. Men had
come to look on the King as the embodiment of wrong, and on the Pope
as the only surviving embodiment of right. The King of the English was
driven to ask the Bishop of Rome to allow the ancient laws of England
to be obeyed. True this was while the King’s hold on his crown was
still weak; when his position was more assured, he took a higher tone;
but it marks the change which had happened that an English king, and
such a king as Henry, should be driven so to abase himself even for a
moment.
[Sidenote: The truce agreed to; provisional restoration of the
Archbishop’s temporalities.]
By the terms of the truce, things were to remain as they were for the
present. Anselm was to be restored to his temporalities without homage
or other conditions; but, if Paschal could not be brought to yield on
the matter of the decrees, they were to pass to the King again.[939]
Anselm looked on all this as useless; he knew the temper of the papal
court better than the King and his friends did. But he agreed for the
sake of peace; he wished to avoid the slightest suspicion of any wish
to disturb the King in the possession of his kingdom.[940] The truce
was therefore agreed to; the messengers were sent, and Anselm, when
the court broke up, went once more in peace to his metropolitan city
or to some other of his many houses.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Reformation of the court.]
[Sidenote: Personal character of Henry.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s mistresses and children.]
[Sidenote: Robert Earl of Gloucester.]
[Sidenote: Henry son of Nest.]
[Sidenote: Matilda Countess of Perche.]
[Sidenote: Robert son of Eadgyth.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s daughter by Isabel of Meulan.]
[Sidenote: Richard son of Ansfrida.]
[Sidenote: Story of his mother and her husband Anskill.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s son Richard.]
But, besides settling the affairs of his Church and realm, Henry had
other more distinctly domestic and personal duties to discharge. He
had to reform the household which he had inherited from his brother;
he had also――so we are told that the bishops and others strongly
pressed upon him――to reform his own life.[941] The vices of Henry were
at least not the vices of Rufus; inclination as well as duty led him
to cleanse the court of its foulest abuses, to make a clean sweep of
the works of darkness.[942] But it was only in a wholly abnormal state
of things that Henry the First could have been hailed as a moral
reformer. His private life was very unlike the life of his father.
Unmarried, like both of his brothers till the recent marriage of
Robert, he was already the father of several children by mothers of
various nations. Of his eldest and most famous son, Robert, afterwards
the renowned Earl of Gloucester, the mother is unknown; but she
appears to have been French.[943] The British Nest, of whom we have
often heard, the daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr, had, before her marriage
with Gerald of Windsor, borne a son to Henry who bore his own
name.[944] Two of his mistresses bore the characteristic English name
of Eadgyth. One was the mother of Matilda Countess of Perche, who died
in the White Ship;[945] the other, who afterwards, like Nest, obtained
an honourable marriage with the younger Robert of Ouilly, was the
mother of a Robert who plays a part in the civil wars forty years
later.[946] His birth therefore most likely came long after the times
of which we are speaking, as did the birth of the daughter whom Henry
is said to have had by a woman of a Norman house of the loftiest rank,
Isabel, daughter of his chief counsellor, Robert Count of Meulan and
Earl of Leicester.[947] The list of Henry’s natural children is not
yet exhausted――we have no account of the mother of the valiant
Juliana; but the birth of one who is second in personal fame to Earl
Robert of Gloucester had already taken place, and it is connected with
a characteristic story which is worth telling. A wealthy man of
Berkshire, Anskill by name, was one of the chief tenants of the church
of Abingdon. As far as his name is concerned, he might be Norman; he
might be English or rather Danish. His enemies brought a charge
against him to the Red King, who caused him to be kept in so sharp a
prison that before long he died of his hardships.[948] He left a
widow, whose name is given as Ansfrida, and a son named William. The
King then seized on the manor of Sparsholt, which Anskill had held of
the abbey, and gave it――or perhaps only its wardship――to one of his
officers named Toustain, without reserving any service to the
Church.[949] By this grant both the young William and the church of
Abingdon were wronged. For the wardship of its tenant would even, by
Flambard’s own law, go to the abbey. The widow, by what instinct we
are not told, betook herself to Henry to ask his intercession with his
brother the King. Young William did not get back his land, which was
recovered for the abbey at a later time. But his mother presently gave
him a half-brother, Richard, who afterwards distinguished himself in
the French wars, and died in the White Ship.[950] The interest of
Henry, if it did not get back Sparsholt for its lawful tenant, was
enough to secure for his new mistress the safe possession of her
dower, and to provide for her legitimate son by an advantageous
marriage.[951] Ansfrida herself was in the end buried in the minster
of Abingdon with honours of which Saint Hugh would hardly have
approved, and her lawful son did not fail to give gifts to the place
of his mother’s burial.[952]
[Sidenote: Henry is exhorted to marry.]
[Sidenote: He seeks for Eadgyth daughter of Malcolm.]
[Sidenote: Policy of the marriage.]
[Sidenote: Eadgyth looked on as English.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s descent from Ælfred.]
Henry then, if he was fully entitled to reform the worst abuses of his
brother’s household, stood in some need of reformation himself. His
counsellors exhorted him to mend matters by giving himself a wife and
his kingdom a queen. He had not far to look for one when policy and
inclination led him the same way. Notwithstanding all his
irregularities, we are told that he had long loved Eadgyth or Matilda,
the daughter of Malcolm, and it is further implied that his love was
returned on her part.[953] It is not clear where she was at this
moment, but seemingly no longer with her aunt Christina in her
monastic shelter at Romsey.[954] She was now about twenty years old,
some say of remarkable beauty, at all events of a pleasing face, and
mistress of an amount of learning which must have equalled or exceeded
that of her clerkly lover.[955] She had no great worldly
possessions;[956] but she came of a stock which made a marriage with
her the most politic choice which the King could make at the moment.
Eadgyth had lived so long in England that men seem to have forgotten
that she was the daughter of Malcolm, and to have remembered only that
she was the daughter of Margaret. As such she was held to be of the
right kingly kin of England,[957] marked out as the most fitting bride
for a king whose purpose was to reign as an Englishman. True she came
of the blood of Cerdic only by the spindle-side, and by the
spindle-side Henry came of the blood of Cerdic himself.[958] But no
one was likely to remember that a daughter of Ælfred was a remote
ancestress of Henry’s mother, while everybody remembered that Eadgyth
was the daughter of Margaret, the daughter of Eadward, the son of
Eadmund, the son of Æthelred, the son of Eadgar. It was for the
English King to take an English Lady, and to hand on the English crown
to kings born in the land and sprung of the true blood of its ancient
princes.
[Sidenote: Objections made to the marriage.]
[Sidenote: Eadgyth said to have taken the veil.]
[Sidenote: Anselm holds an assembly to settle the question.]
[Sidenote: Eadgyth declared free to marry.]
So thought the people; so thought the King; so seemingly thought the
daughter of Malcolm herself. But not a few mouths were opened to
denounce the marriage as contrary to the laws of the Church. Eadgyth,
they alleged, was a consecrated virgin, and a marriage with her would
be sacrilege. She had, they said, taken the veil at Romsey, when she
was dwelling there with her aunt Christina.[959] She appealed to the
Archbishop, to whom all looked to decide the matter.[960] She told her
story, as we have already heard it, and called on Anselm to judge her
cause in his wisdom. The Archbishop called together at Lambeth――the
manor of his friend the Bishop of Rochester――an assembly of bishops,
abbots, nobles, and religious men, before whom he laid the matter, and
the evidence bearing on it.[961] There was the evidence of the maiden
herself; there was the evidence of two archdeacons, William of
Canterbury and Humbald of Salisbury, whom Anselm had sent to the
monastery, and who, after inquiries among the sisters, reported that
there was no ground to think that Eadgyth had ever been a veiled
nun.[962] The Archbishop then left the assembly, and the rest, who are
spoken of as the Church of England gathered into one place,[963]
debated the question in his absence. Much stress was laid on the case
of those women who, in the first days of the Conquest, had sought
shelter in the cloister from shame and violence, but who had not taken
religion upon themselves.[964] The late Archbishop had declared them
free to marry, and the judgement of the assembly was that the same
rule applied to the case of the daughter of Malcolm.[965] Anselm came
back, and the debate and the decision were reported to him. He
declared that he assented to the judgement, strengthened as it was by
the great authority of Lanfranc.[966] Then Eadgyth herself was brought
in, and heard with a pleased countenance all that had passed.[967] She
then offered to confirm all that she had said by any form of oath that
might be thought good. She did not fear that any one would disbelieve
her; but she wished that no occasion should be left for any one to
blaspheme.[968] Anselm told her that no oath was needed; if any man
out of the evil treasure of his heart should bring forth evil things,
he would not be able to withstand the amount and strength of the
evidence by which her case was proved.[969] He gave her his
blessing,[970] and she went forth, we may say, Lady-elect of the
English.
[Sidenote: Other versions of the story.]
[Sidenote: Anselm made to object.]
[Sidenote: Story of Rufus and the Abbess.]
[Sidenote: Decision in favour of the marriage.]
[Sidenote: Anselm’s scruples and warning.]
In another version, also contemporary but not resting on the same high
authority, things are made to take another turn. The King bids Anselm
perform the marriage rite between himself and the nameless daughter of
Malcolm, called in this version David.[971] Anselm refuses on the
ground that, having worn the veil of a nun, she belonged to a
heavenly, not to an earthly bridegroom. The King says that he has
sworn to her father to marry her, and that he cannot break his oath,
unless it can be shown by a canonical judgement that the marriage is
unlawful.[972] Anselm is therefore bidden to summon the Archbishop of
York, and the rest of the bishops, abbots, and other ecclesiastical
persons of all England, to come together and examine the matter.[973]
The Abbess is brought before them, and she tells the story of the Red
King’s visit to her flowers.[974] The King bids Anselm call on the
synod for its judgement. The assembled fathers debate; canons are
read, and it is judged that the maiden is free to marry, chiefly on
the ground that, if she was veiled, it was while she was under age and
without her father’s consent.[975] The King asks Anselm whether he
objects to this decision; Anselm says that he has no fault to find
with it. Henry then asks Anselm to marry them at once. Anselm pleads
that, though the judgement is right, yet, as the maiden had somehow or
other worn the veil, it were better that she should not marry; there
were others, daughters of kings and counts, one of whom the King might
marry instead. Henry still insists; Anselm performs the ceremony; but
with a warning that England would not rejoice in the offspring of the
marriage.[976] The fate of the White Ship and the wars of Stephen and
Matilda are quoted as a proof of Anselm’s prophetic power.
[Sidenote: Later fables.]
The tone of this story is quite unlike that of the more trustworthy
version; yet there is perhaps no actual contradiction between them.
But the foreign writer stumbles greatly in his names and pedigrees,
and writes by the light of forty years later. We may see in his
version the beginnings of the wild stories of later times, where
Eadgyth is pictured as forced into the marriage against her will, and
even as devoting her future offspring to the fiend.[977]
[Sidenote: Marriage of Henry and Eadgyth. November 11, 1100.]
[Sidenote: She takes the name of Matilda.]
[Sidenote: The wedding and coronation.]
[Sidenote: Anselm’s speech.]
[Sidenote: Objections not wholly silenced.]
A few days later, on the feast of Saint Martin, the marriage was
celebrated by Anselm, and Matilda, as we must now call her, was
hallowed to Queen.[978] It is only a guess that this was the time of
her change of name. One hardly sees its motive; it was Henry’s policy
at this moment to be as English as possible, and the name of his bride
was one of the few English names which the Normans now and then
adopted. Could it be Henry’s abiding reverence for his mother which
made him wish to place another Matilda on his throne? Be this as it
may be, the new Queen bears no other name. All the great men of the
kingdom and a crowd of folk of lower degree came together to her
wedding and crowning. At the door of the West Minster, as the
multitude thronged towards the King and his bride, the Archbishop
stood on high and harangued the people. He told them how the whole
matter had been settled, and on what grounds. And he once again called
on any one who had aught else to say against the marriage to stand
forth and say it.[979] The only answer was a general shout of assent
to the judgement and the marriage.[980] The rite was done. But there
were still some who blamed Anselm for the course that he had
taken;[981] and years afterwards the validity of Matilda’s marriage,
and the consequent legitimacy of her children, was called in question
by those whose political objects it suited to do so.[982]
[Sidenote: Novelty of a queen.]
[Sidenote: Regular life of the King and Queen.]
[Sidenote: “Godric and Godgifu.”]
[Sidenote: 1100-1118.]
[Sidenote: Children of the marriage.]
[Sidenote: William;]
[Sidenote: the Empress Matilda.]
[Sidenote: Later life of Henry and Matilda.]
[Sidenote: Her character.]
[Sidenote: “Good Queen Mold.”]
It is somewhat singular that Matilda practically stepped into the
place of the Lady whose name she had forsaken. There had been no queen
constantly living in England since the elder Eadgyth. The elder
Matilda had been but little in England; William Rufus had been
pre-eminently the “bachelor king.” It must have been a wonderful
change when the riot and foul excess of the Red King’s court gave way
to a household presided over by a devout and virtuous woman. For a
time at least Henry as well as his wife lived a sober and regular
life. As a generation back the strict conduct of Henry’s father had
called forth the jeers of the profligate scoffers of his day, so now
the profligate scoffers of another generation jeered at the decorous
court of Henry and Matilda, and mocked the English King and his
English Lady by the characteristic English names of Godric and
Godgifu.[983] The married life of Matilda reached over eighteen years
only; of her two children, both born early in her wedlock, she did not
live to see her son, the Ætheling William, cut off in the White Ship;
she did live to see her daughter of her own name raised to a place
which had never before been filled by a daughter of England, sitting
as a crowned Augusta in the seat of Livia and Placidia.[984] After a
while Henry seems to have fallen back into his old courses; some at
least of his natural children must have been born after his marriage;
and the same kind of language which was used about his first marriage
was used about his second.[985] The Queen, for whatever reason, ceased
to follow the endless wanderings of the court; and lived in all royal
pomp at Westminster.[986] Her piety rivalled that of her mother; it
was shown in all the usual forms of the time; and her brother David,
not an undevout prince, went so near to a scoff as to ask his sister
whether King Henry would care to kiss the lips which had kissed the
ulcers of the lepers.[987] Her boundless liberality to the poor, to
clerks, scholars, and strangers of every kind, was perhaps not the
less amiable for a manifest touch of vanity.[988] We read that the
means for her lavish bounty in this way had to be found by harsh
exactions from her tenants; but, here as ever, the blame is laid upon
the reeves rather than on their mistress.[989] The memory of “good
Queen Mold” was long cherished, and we can hardly doubt that her
presence by Henry’s side did much to help the fusion of Normans and
English in her husband’s kingdom.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Guy of Vienne comes as Legate.]
[Sidenote: Earlier Legates.]
[Sidenote: Guy’s pretensions not acknowledged.]
Two ecclesiastical events wind up the last year of the eleventh
century. One of them showed that there were limits to Anselm’s
submission to the see of Rome. Guy Archbishop of Vienne came into
England, professing to be papal Legate throughout all Britain. Legates
had been seen in England before, but not with such a commission as
superseded the authority of an acknowledged Primate. They had come
both under Eadward and under William the Great; but they came in the
doubtful days of Stigand, and the last time they came to set Stigand
finally aside.[990] One Legate had come under William the Red; but it
was to bring the pallium to Anselm.[991] But now all men were amazed
at a foreign prelate claiming to exercise powers which had hitherto
been held to belong to none but the Patriarch of the island
world.[992] Legates waxed mightier before Henry’s reign was out;[993]
this time Guy went back as he came. We get no details; but we read
that no one acknowledged him as Legate, and that he was not able to
discharge any legatine function.[994]
[Sidenote: Death of Archbishop Thomas. November 18, 1100.]
[Sidenote: The see of York given to Gerard of Hereford. Archbishop
1100-1108.]
The other event was the death of Archbishop Thomas of York, after an
episcopate of thirty years. He died a few days after the King’s
marriage, leaving a good name behind him as the honoured rebuilder of
his church and legislator of its chapter.[995] This was the first
prelacy which had fallen vacant since Henry’s accession. To deal with
the vacant see after his brother’s fashion would have been in the
teeth of all the new King’s promises. He therefore soon gave the
church of York another shepherd. But his choice fell on a man of a
character widely different from either Thomas or Anselm. The new
archbishop was Gerard Bishop of Hereford, of whom we have already
heard a good deal, and heard some things that are passing
strange.[996] He held the throne of the northern metropolis for eight
years, and, when he died, he had some difficulty in finding a
resting-place in his own minster.[997]
§ 3. _The Invasion of Robert._
_January-August, 1101._
[Sidenote: Likeness of the years 1088 and 1101.]
[Sidenote: Action of the Bishop of Durham,]
[Sidenote: of the sons of Earl Roger.]
[Sidenote: Plots to give the crown to Duke Robert.]
[Sidenote: A party in Normandy for Henry.]
The first year of the twelfth century was a stirring time for England,
though it was not crowded with great and striking events like the last
year of the eleventh. It reads like an earlier chapter of our story
coming over again. We have now again to tell well nigh the same tale
which we told at the beginning of the reign of Rufus. Again we have a
Norman rebellion on English soil; again we have a Norman invasion;
again the English people cleave steadily to the king whom they have
chosen; again the Primate and the bishops in general take the side
which was at once the side of the King and of the people. And, as if
to make the likeness square in the smallest details, a bishop set free
from bonds is the foremost stirrer up of mischief, and again three
sons of Earl Roger are the most active leaders of the revolt. The part
of Bishop Odo of Bayeux in the former rebellion is in the present
played to some extent by Bishop Randolf of Durham; the part of Robert
of Bellême is played again in more than all its fulness by Robert of
Bellême himself. There is again a party eager to place the Duke of the
Normans on the throne of England; but this time that party is balanced
by another which in the other tale does not appear till later, a party
eager to place the King of the English in the ducal chair of Normandy.
[Sidenote: Character of Robert and Eadgar.]
[Sidenote: Robert as crusader.]
[Sidenote: His relapse on his return to Normandy.]
[Sidenote: His renewed misgovernment.]
Robert, like his chosen companion Eadgar, could play an active and
honourable part anywhere save in his own country. Both alike show to
far greater advantage in Palestine and in Scotland than in Normandy or
in England. The seeming inconsistency is not hard to understand.
Neither of them perhaps lacked mere capacity――Robert certainly did
not. And Robert most certainly did not lack generous feeling. But both
lacked that moral strength without which mere feeling and mere
capacity can do very little. Such men can act well and vigorously now
and then, by fits and starts, when some special motive is brought to
bear upon them. They can act better on behalf of others than they can
on behalf of themselves, because, when they act for others, a special
motive is brought to bear upon them. Their own cause they may, if they
like, neglect or betray――forgetting that, when a prince betrays his
own cause, he commonly betrays the cause of many others; but it is a
point of honour not to betray or to neglect the cause of another which
is entrusted to them. Thus it was that both Robert and Eadgar, who
could do nothing for themselves, could do a good deal for others,
whether as counsellors, as negotiators, or as military commanders. The
crusade had brought out all Robert’s best qualities; but we have seen
that, even on the crusade, he had yielded to any great and sudden
temptation. Amidst so many noble and valiant comrades, he could not
shrink from the siege or the battle; and, once brought up to the siege
or the battle, he showed himself, not only a daring soldier, but a
skilful captain. But at Laodikeia he had been the same man that he was
at Rouen. Now that he was again at Rouen, Antioch and Jerusalem passed
away; it was all Laodikeia with him. The dream of winning the English
crown floated before his eyes, and at last stirred him up to action.
Otherwise he sank into his old listlessness, his old lavishness, his
old vices and follies of every kind. It may be an overdrawn picture
which paints him as lying in bed till noon, and neglecting to attend
mass, because he had no clothes to go in; the base persons of both
sexes who surrounded him had carried them all off. Some odd chance
that happened once must have been spoken of as a habit.[998] But there
is no ground for doubting the general description of Robert’s
misgovernment or rather no-government, both before he went to the
crusade and after he came back from it.
[Sidenote: Parties in England and Normandy.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s strict rule distasteful to the Norman nobles.]
It may at first sight seem a paradox that there should be at the same
moment a party in Normandy anxious to hand over the duchy to Henry and
a party in England anxious to hand over the kingdom to Robert. But
quiet men in Normandy, who wished their country to enjoy some peace,
would naturally wish to place it under the rule of Henry, while the
kind of men who, at the accession of Rufus, had wished to bring Robert
into England would equally wish to bring him now. They had perhaps
already found out that where Henry reigned none might misdo with
other, and to misdo with other was to a large part of the Norman
nobles the very business of life.
[Sidenote: Their plots against him.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême and his brothers.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Pontefract.]
[Sidenote: Ivo of Grantmesnil.]
[Sidenote: Earl Walter.]
[Sidenote: Duke Robert’s grants to Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: He gives back Gisors to Pagan.]
The greater part of those nobles were now beginning to plot against
the King. The estates which most of them held in Normandy gave them
special opportunities for so doing, by giving them excuses for going
to and fro between England and Normandy. Of this they were not slow to
take advantage. The three sons of Earl Roger of Shrewsbury, Robert of
Bellême and his brothers Arnulf and Roger, were busy in this work; so
was Robert the son of Ilbert of Lacy, beginning to be known as Robert
of Pontefract; so was Ivo of Grantmesnil, son of the deceased Sheriff
of Leicestershire, himself best known as the rope-dancer of Antioch.
And we are somewhat surprised to find on the same list, now at the
very end of his long life, the aged Walter Giffard, lord of
Longueville and Earl of Buckingham. All these were in secret
communication with the Duke.[999] But none of them, Robert of Bellême
least of all, was inclined to serve the Duke or any other lord for
naught. Duke Robert distributed castles and lands among them, and
promised to give them greater gifts still when he should be king of
England.[1000] To Robert of Bellême he granted the forest of Gouffers,
and the castle of Argentan of whose siege we heard seven years
before;[1001] he further confirmed him in a claim very dear to the
house of Bellême, by granting him the ducal right of advowson over the
bishopric of Seez.[1002] And, strangest of all, the Duke gave back the
fortress of Gisors, the bulwark of his duchy, to its former holder
Theobald or Pagan, because he had once hospitably entertained
him.[1003] Did not Robert of Bellême ask that, if his own master-piece
of engineering was to pass out of the hands of the prince, it should
pass into no hands but his own? Thus Duke Robert’s way of making ready
for the conquest of England was to squander the resources of Normandy.
Every inch of his territory, every stone of his fortresses, stood
ready to be granted away, almost to any one who would take the trouble
to ask for them.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Christmas Gemót at Westminster. 1100-1101.]
[Sidenote: Escape of the Bishop of Durham.]
[Sidenote: Adventures of his mother.]
[Sidenote: His reception by Duke Robert; he stirs him up against Henry.]
Things were thus brewing through the winter without any open outbreak.
At Christmas King Henry wore his crown at Westminster.[1004] That was
a better place than Gloucester for watching movements beyond the sea.
And soon after the feast and assembly the cause of Robert was
strengthened by an unexpected helper, whose coming seems to have put a
new life into his supporters. The Bishop of Durham, Randolf Flambard,
suddenly showed himself in his native land of Normandy. We saw him but
lately shut up, to the joy of all men, in the Conqueror’s Tower. His
keeper, William of Mandeville, may have been negligent; at all events
his captivity was easy.[1005] The King clearly did not mean it to be
harsh, as he allowed him two shillings a day for his keep. Flambard,
with all his sins, was a pleasant and liberal companion, and he kept
many friends, even in his fall.[1006] He was allowed the company of
those friends; with them he made merry in his prison, and gave costly
banquets to them and to his keepers.[1007] At last the means of escape
were given to him; a rope was brought hidden in a vessel of water or
wine. The Bishop made a feast for his keepers, and plied them well
with the wine. When they were snoring in their drunken sleep, Flambard
tied his rope to the small column which divided one of the double
windows usual in the architecture of his day.[1008] Even at such a
moment, he did not forget that he was now a bishop; he took his
pastoral staff with him, and began to let himself down by the rope.
But he had forgotten another, and at that moment a more useful, part
of the episcopal dress. He left his gloves behind; so his hands
suffered sadly in his descent. Moreover the Bishop was a bulky man and
his rope was too short; so he fell with a heavy fall, and lay groaning
and half dead.[1009] But his friends and followers were at the foot of
the Tower ready to help him. How they came there it is not easy to
see, unless there was treason in the fortress; they should surely have
been kept out by the wall with which Rufus, at such cost to his
people, had surrounded his father’s Tower.[1010] So however the tale
is told. The Bishop’s faithful helpers had got good horses ready and
his treasure all safe. They set sail for Normandy; Flambard went in
one ship, his witch mother with the treasure in another. This second
vessel was seized by pirates and the treasure carried off; the old
woman and the crew reached Normandy despoiled and sad.[1011] Flambard
made his way to the court of Duke Robert, became his chief counsellor,
and worked hard to stir him up by every means to an invasion of
England.[1012]
[Sidenote: Easter Gemót. April 21, 1101.]
[Sidenote: The questions between the King and Anselm adjourned.]
[Sidenote: Growth of the conspiracy.]
[Sidenote: The few faithful.]
Meanwhile King Henry held the Easter feast at Winchester. The only
recorded business of the meeting is that, as the messengers who had
been sent to the Pope had not come back, the matters in dispute
between the King and the Archbishop were adjourned till their
return.[1013] But meanwhile most of the chief men of Norman birth in
England were, of their mickle untruth, the Chronicler says, plotting
with the Duke against the King.[1014] Any excuse was enough for
treason; if Henry refused to make lavish grants after the manner of
his brother, the refusal made another traitor.[1015] Instead of a list
of the conspirators, we get a list of the few who remained faithful.
These were the two Beaumont brothers, Roger Bigod, Henry’s old friend
Richard of Redvers, and the lord of Gloucester and Glamorgan, Robert
Fitz-Hamon.[1016] To these we ought surely to add old Earl Hugh; but
he was drawing near to the end of his days. The rest sent secret
messages to Robert, and mocked openly at Godric and Godgifu. It would
seem however that there was as yet no open rebellion on English
ground.
[Sidenote: Whitsun Gemót. June 9, 1101.]
[Sidenote: Popular character of the assembly.]
[Sidenote: Advice of Robert of Meulan.]
[Sidenote: Mediation of Anselm.]
[Sidenote: Renewed promise of good laws.]
[Sidenote: The Church and the people for Henry.]
[Sidenote: England united against Norman invasion.]
The King next kept the Whitsun feast; the place is not mentioned, but
it was doubtless Westminster; and the malecontents do not seem to have
followed the old tactics of refusing to appear in the assembly. This
Pentecostal gathering is spoken of as a vast assemblage both of the
nobles and of the people in general.[1017] In an assembly held close
to London the popular element would, as in the days of Stephen, be
better able to make itself felt than at Winchester and Gloucester. And
it was on the popular element that the King relied. We are told that
his subtle counsellor from Meulan taught him that, at such a moment as
this, he must be lavish of promises, even to the length of promising
London or York, if they should be asked for.[1018] He must promise
now, and, when peace comes again, he may take all back again.[1019] In
the assembly, King and nobles met with mutual suspicions. The common
voice of all ranks put Anselm forward as the mediator between the
nation and its sovereign. It was indeed his constitutional place, a
place which in the late reign Anselm had never been able to fill, but
in which he was now called on to act, and in which he acted honourably
and vigorously. A second promise of good laws was the result.[1020]
Parties were now divided very much as they had been at the beginning
of the reign of Rufus. Anselm played the part of Lanfranc; the bishops
were all loyal; the English people clave unswervingly to the king of
their own choice, the king born on their own soil, the king who could
speak to the hearts of Englishmen in the English tongue. They, we are
emphatically told, knew nothing of the rights of any other
prince.[1021] They were for the English king, son of a king; they had
no part or lot in the foreign duke, son of a duke. And it is implied
that, not only the English by descent, but that men of all classes and
all races, except the few great men who had a vested interest in
anarchy, were with one consent steady in their loyalty to the King and
ready to fight for him against any invader. There was again an united
nation, a nation perhaps more united than it had been five-and-thirty
years before, ready to withstand the new, the last attempt, at a
Norman conquest of England. If a few earls and great lords played a
game of yet more active treason than had been played by Eadwine and
Morkere, they were not able, as Eadwine and Morkere had been able, to
keep back any part of the force of England from joining the national
standard.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Importance of the campaign of 1101.]
[Sidenote: Fusion of Normans and English under Henry.]
[Sidenote: Last opposition of Normans and English.]
[Sidenote: Warfare of 1102.]
[Sidenote: Peace of King Henry. 1102-1135.]
[Sidenote: English feeling about Tinchebrai. 1106.]
The campaign which now followed, if campaign is the right word when
armies merely look at one another without fighting, marks an important
stage in the process which it was the work of Henry’s reign finally to
carry out, the fusion of Normans and English in England. The siege of
Rochester was the last time when Normans and Englishmen, by those
names, met in arms as enemies on English ground. Now, at Pevensey and
at Portsmouth, we for the last time hear of Englishmen on English
ground spoken of in such a way as to imply that there were other
dwellers in England who were not English. In the first year of Henry
such language was still true; to go no further, the chief counsellor
of the King was the man who had been the first to break down the
English barricade on Senlac. Long before the last year of Henry, the
men who had fought on Senlac on either side had passed away; the sons
and grandsons of the conquerors had put on the nationality of the
conquered. The struggle which did not come to blows this year did come
to blows in the next; the fighting which was found not to be needed
against Robert of Normandy was found to be needed against Robert of
Bellême. Then for thirty-three years there was peace in the island,
though there was often war on the mainland. Englishmen believed that
the old score was wiped out when they won Normandy for an English
king; and the belief, if partly a delusion, was not wholly so. On
English ground the distinction of races died out during the long peace
of Henry; when the anarchy came, men tore one another in pieces on
other pretences. But now Englishmen still go forth to withstand a
Norman invasion, Englishmen marked off by the English name, not only
from men of other lands, but also, though for the last time, from men
who were not English within the English kingdom itself.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert’s fleet. July, 1101.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s levy.]
[Sidenote: Anselm and his contingent.]
[Sidenote: The English at Pevensey.]
[Sidenote: William Count of Mortain.]
[Sidenote: The English fleet sent out.]
[Sidenote: Some of the crews desert to Robert.]
[Sidenote: Alleged agency of Flambard.]
Meanwhile the exhortations of the Bishop of Durham had had their
effect on the sluggish mind of the Norman Duke. In the course of July
the fleet which was to win England for Robert was ready at
Tréport.[1022] The ducal navy bore the force that was designed for the
new conquest, horsemen, archers, and foot-soldiers of other kinds.
King Henry meanwhile brought together the hosts of England. As of old,
the _fyrd_ flocked together from all parts, pressing on with a good
will to the defence of England and her King. Henry now, like his
brother thirteen years before, had on his side the two great moral
powers, the people and the Church. There was no need this time to
throw scorn on the men who came as the military contingent of the see
of Canterbury. With them Anselm came in person,[1023] not surely to
wield weapons with his own hands; but doubtless to bring about peace,
if so he could, and, failing that, to exhort his flock to the last and
most terrible of duties, to fight without flinching in a righteous
war, when peace has become hopeless. It was not Anselm’s first sight
of warfare; but he might now learn the difference between Duke Roger’s
war of aggression against Capua, and the war which the English people
were ready to wage for their native land and their native king.[1024]
The King and the Primate, the national force ready to act at their
bidding, the stranger nobles ready to betray them to the invader,
gathered once more on the old battle-ground of Pevensey.[1025] There
two invading Norman fleets had already shown themselves, with widely
different results from their invasions. The third was looked for on
the same spot, perhaps all the more because of the very doubtful faith
of the new lord of Pevensey, Count William of Mortain. For that same
reason it was all the more needful to secure such a post against the
invaders. At Pevensey then, under the ancient walls and the new
donjon, the army came together, waiting for the coming of the hostile
fleet. But Henry took means to check them on their voyage. He sent
forth his ships to watch the coasts, to watch the enemy and to hinder
them from landing.[1026] But here we are met with a somewhat strange
fact. This is not the first time that we have found Englishmen at sea
less faithful than Englishmen on land. Tostig found allies among the
sailors who were sent to meet him;[1027] so now did Robert. Some of
the crews threw aside their allegiance, joined the invaders, and
guided them to land. This piece of treason is attributed to the craft
and subtlety of the Bishop of Durham, perhaps only, as in the case of
Eadric, from the general belief that, whatever mischief was done, he
must have been the doer of it.[1028]
[Sidenote: Coming of Robert and his fleet.]
[Sidenote: Comparison with his former attempt.]
[Sidenote: Comparison of Harold and Henry.]
[Sidenote: Robert lands at Portchester. July 20, 1101.]
[Sidenote: Portchester castle and church.]
[Sidenote: Robert marches to besiege Winchester.]
[Sidenote: He declines to attack the city because of the Queen.]
This time the landing-place was not Pevensey, but it was a kindred
spot. One writer contrasts Robert’s invasion with that of his father.
William made his way into the land by his own strength, Robert only by
the help of traitors.[1029] But it might have been only fair to
contrast Robert’s former attempt, when he sent others to land at
Pevensey, but made no attempt to land anywhere himself, and this
present attempt, when he came in his own person and actually landed on
English ground. And the first and the third invasion have one point of
likeness as distinguished from the second. The second invasion, that
in the days of Rufus, was beaten back, because the attempt was made on
Pevensey when Pevensey was well defended. But as the Conqueror was
able to land at Pevensey because Harold was far away in Yorkshire, so,
because Henry was carefully guarding Pevensey, Robert was able to land
elsewhere. The traitors guided his fleet along the narrow seas which
had seen the Saxon landings which came next after those which made
Anderida a wilderness. As the father had made his way to England
almost in the wake of Ælle and Cissa, so the son made his way into
England more nearly in the wake of Cerdic and Cynric. The Norman fleet
sailed up the haven of Portsmouth, and the Duke and his army landed as
safely beneath the Roman walls of Portchester as his father and his
army had landed beneath the Roman walls of Pevensey. Those walls at
least were there; the massive keep most likely was not yet; the priory
of Austin canons, whose church, little altered, still abides within
the castle walls, was the work of Henry himself.[1030] From
Portchester the invader naturally marched towards Winchester; there
was the royal seat; there was the royal hoard. He pitched his camp in
a fit place for a siege;[1031] but, in one of his fits of generosity,
he refused, on a purely personal ground, to attack the city. His
godchild and sister-in-law Queen Matilda was already lying there in
child-bed of her first child, either the Ætheling or the future
Empress. Was the West-Saxon capital her morning-gift also, as it had
been with Emma and the elder Eadgyth? When Robert heard of the Queen’s
case, he turned away, saying that it would be the deed of a villain to
assault the city at such a time.[1032]
[Sidenote: Estimate of his conduct.]
In this story we see the better side of Robert, that spirit of true
personal kindliness, which, like his dealings with his brother Henry
at the siege of Saint Michael’s Mount, calls forth a personal liking
for him in spite of all his follies and vices. But one and the same
fallacy runs through all these stories of passing personal generosity.
War cannot be carried on without causing much distress to many people,
to besieged garrisons suffering from thirst, to women in child-bed,
and others. Therefore war should never be undertaken, except for some
public object so great and righteous as to outweigh the distress
caused to individuals. Therefore too he who is carrying on a war on
what he believes to be adequate grounds, should not turn aside from
any operation which will promote the cause which he has in hand,
merely on account of the distress which it may cause to individuals.
We can hardly fancy that Robert himself would have turned away from
the siege of Jerusalem or Antioch out of thought for any single
person, even a brother or sister. He would have felt such an act to be
treason to the common cause of Christendom. At Saint Michael’s Mount
and at Winchester he had no cause to betray; he was simply fighting
for his own interests, which he might, if he chose, forbear to assert.
The morality of his age, perhaps the military morality of any age,
fails to see that what this proves is that he should not have been
attacking Winchester or the Mount at all. Unless war is so high a duty
as to outweigh all personal considerations, it is a crime.
[Sidenote: Personal character of the chivalrous feeling.]
Again, in all these stories we see how the chivalrous spirit thinks of
those only whose rank or kindred or some other personal cause brings
their distress directly home to its thoughts. Others on the Mount were
thirsty besides Henry; Winchester must have contained other women in
child-bed besides Matilda. But Robert thinks only of those who are
personally connected with himself. Of course that abstract way of
looking at the matter which strict morality dictates is quite foreign
to the notions of the eleventh century or of many later centuries, and
must therefore not be pressed too far. And undoubtedly the personal
kindliness which is always shown by Duke Robert is quite enough to put
him on another moral level from a monster like Robert of Bellême. It
is also enough to put him on another level from William Rufus, whose
generosity is simply a form of pride. Yet, after all, the Red King’s
abiding duty and reverence towards his father, alive and dead, comes
nearer to a moral principle than Robert’s momentary outbursts of
kindly feeling.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert’s march from Winchester.]
[Sidenote: The armies meet near Alton.]
[Sidenote: Desertion of the Earls of Shrewsbury and Surrey.]
[Sidenote: William of Warren’s enmity to the King.]
[Sidenote: His jests on the King’s love of hunting.]
[Sidenote: Doubtful truth of other nobles.]
[Sidenote: Death of Earl Hugh. July 26, 1101.]
From Winchester Robert is said to have turned towards London, under
the belief that Henry was there.[1033] This is somewhat strange, as
one would think that the sea-faring men who had guided him to
Portchester must both themselves have known, and would take care to
let him know, that the King was at Pevensey. But nothing would be more
natural than that Robert should march on London while the King was
known to be elsewhere. And the point where, in the only account which
attempts any geographical detail, the armies are said to have met,
suggests a march of Robert towards London, and a march of Henry from
Pevensey designed to meet him on the road before he should reach
London. Robert was by the wood of Alton when news was brought to him
that his brother’s force was near, on the other side of the
wood.[1034] This seems a likely point for the armies to meet, when the
one was going north-east from Portchester and the other going
north-west from Pevensey. Wherever the spot was, the two hosts met
face to face and made ready for battle. But, either then or earlier,
many of the Norman barons in Henry’s army openly forsook the King’s
cause and went over to the invaders. Two of the traitors are mentioned
by name. Robert of Bellême, who was a little time before plotting in
Normandy in his character of lord of Montgomery, must now have been
again in England to work this open treason in his character of Earl of
Shrewsbury. The other was the King’s cousin, the Earl of Surrey, the
younger William of Warren, who is spoken of as a bitter personal enemy
of the King.[1035] Henry had, even in his charter of liberties, kept
the forests in his own hands; for, besides his wars, his studies, and
his love-intrigues, he found time for an indulgence in hunting, which
even surpassed, it would seem, the measure of his fellows. This drew
on him the mockery of Earl William, who jeered at his deer-slaying
exploits, and bestowed on him the nickname of _Hartsfoot_.[1036] To
mockery he now added treason, and Henry did not forget either. While
these great lords forsook the King, other Norman nobles still clave to
him outwardly, but only with a feigned heart. His trust was in the
small band of faithful Normans, in the Primate and the bishops, and
above all in the English people. One of his oldest Norman friends was
gone; Earl Hugh had ended his long and turbulent life as a
three-days’-old monk in the house of Saint Werburh, the house which
was the joint work of himself and Anselm.[1037]
[Sidenote: Anselm’s energy on the King’s side.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s promises to Anselm.]
[Sidenote: Zeal of the English.]
[Sidenote: Exhortation of the King.]
Meanwhile every motive of religion, loyalty, and patriotism, was
brought to bear on the minds of the royal army. While some among the
barons were openly falling off, while the good faith of others was
doubtful, the King put his whole trust in Anselm only. The Primate was
set to exhort, publicly and privately, all whose defection was
feared.[1038] And exhort he did, and with good success, hindering at
least any further open revolt. Robert himself was alarmed at the
threat of excommunication which Anselm held over him.[1039] In the
belief of Anselm’s biographer, the King at this moment owed his crown
to the Archbishop.[1040] It is added that, in this moment of danger,
Henry promised, not only to let Anselm exercise his full jurisdiction
undisturbed, but also to obey in his own person all the decrees and
orders of the Apostolic See.[1041] The former part of the promise
Henry cannot be fairly charged with breaking; the latter engagement,
if it was ever made at all, must surely have been made under some
qualification, or else it must be referred to the same class of
promises as the suggested grants of London and York. Still there can
be no doubt that Anselm served the King well and loyally, and that his
help went far to keep many wavering souls in their allegiance. But the
mass of the English army hardly needed exhortation to keep them in
their duty. They would perhaps be more deeply stirred by the voice of
the King himself than even by that of the Primate. Never yet since the
day of Senlac had Englishmen harnessed for the battle heard a crowned
king call on them in their native tongue. But now we see Henry
marshalling his ranks in the old tactics, and speaking to his
Englishmen as Brihtnoth or Harold might have spoken. The lifeless
Latin catches some spark or echo from the song of Maldon, when King
Henry rides round the wedge of warriors, and bids them meet the charge
of the Norman knights by standing firm in the array of the ancient
shield-wall. No wonder that their hearts were stirred; no wonder that
they shouted loud for the battle, and told their King with one voice
that they were ready for the work, and feared not a Norman in the
invading host.[1042]
[Sidenote: Negotiations between Henry and Robert.]
[Sidenote: Message of Henry.]
[Sidenote: Robert’s answer.]
[Sidenote: His claim of elder birth.]
[Sidenote: Personal meeting of the brothers.]
[Sidenote: They agree on terms.]
But the merits of the Norman lance and the English battle-axe were not
again to be put to the trial on English ground. Harold and William had
tried negotiation before the final appeal to arms; how much more then
should the brothers Henry and Robert? The King of the English first
sent a herald to the invader to ask why he had dared to enter his
kingdom in arms. Robert sent word back again that it was the kingdom
of his father which he had entered, and that he demanded it as his due
by the right of elder birth.[1043] In English ears this appeal to the
new-fangled notions of other lands must have sounded meaningless. To
whom could a crown be due but to him to whom the folk of his land had
given it? What was Robert and his elder birth to them? He, the
stranger-born, might, for aught they knew, be the eldest son of Duke
William of Normandy; but King Henry, the countryman of his people, was
the only son of King William of England. Other messages followed; wise
men on both sides sought to bring about a reconciliation between the
brothers; others sought war rather than peace.[1044] We read on the
one hand that, after many messages had gone to and fro, the King found
that he could trust no negotiator but himself.[1045] Yet we hear also
of Henry being represented by Robert Fitz-hamon, who was surely
faithful, while the representatives of Robert are somewhat strangely
said to have been two of Henry’s own rebels, the Earl of Shrewsbury
and the lord of Cornwall.[1046] However this may be, those on both
sides who shrank from a war of brothers brought about a personal
interview between the rival princes. Nothing could be more to the
advantage of the calm genius of Henry. Robert, able to negotiate for
others, was sure not to be able to negotiate for himself. The hosts of
Normandy and England stood marshalled in all their pride of war, while
the King and the Duke went forth alone into the plain between them.
The brothers talked together; after a while they embraced and
kissed.[1047] Terms of agreement had been come to which were to save
the blood of the subjects of both.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The treaty of 1101.]
[Sidenote: Robert gives up all claim to England; Henry gives up his
Norman possessions.]
[Sidenote: He keeps Domfront.]
[Sidenote: Henry and Helias neighbours.]
[Sidenote: Yearly payment to Robert.]
[Sidenote: Stipulation as to the succession.]
[Sidenote: Dying out of the legitimate male line of both brothers.]
[Sidenote: Natural sons of Henry.]
[Sidenote: Earl Robert.]
[Sidenote: Richard.]
[Sidenote: Henry released from his homage to Robert.]
[Sidenote: Each prince to restore the partisans of the other.]
[Sidenote: The treaty sworn to.]
[Sidenote: Robert and his army go back. Michaelmas, 1101.]
[Sidenote: Mischief done by the Norman army.]
By the treaty now sworn to Robert gave up all claim to the kingdom of
England. Henry, on his part, gave up to Robert his county of
Coutances, and all that he possessed within the borders of Normandy.
One continental possession alone, a small and isolated one, he kept.
He might give up the lands which he had once bought of Robert and
which he had afterwards received in fief of William. But he could not
give up the town and castle of Domfront, whose people had of their own
free will chosen him as their lord, and had received his oath never to
give them over to any other lord. Domfront therefore, the border post
of Normandy and Maine, once the solitary possession of the wanderer,
now remained the solitary continental possession of the island
king.[1048] Thus, in his small dominion on the mainland, Henry had in
a neighbour his friend and ally Count Helias, a neighbourhood which
had some influence on the events of a few years later. Besides the
territorial cessions, the Duke was to receive a yearly payment of
three thousand pounds from his brother. The vain provision was again
inserted that, if either brother died without lawful issue in the
lifetime of the other, the survivor should succeed to his dominions.
Such a provision might seem even vainer than ever, now that both
brothers were lately married to young and fruitful wives. Yet it is
strange to look forward, and to see how each brother outlived his son,
and how short a time the younger brother outlived the elder. Neither
Robert nor Henry could have dreamed that the succession of both would
pass to the son of their sister at Chartres. Anyhow the arrangement
shut out those who afterwards showed themselves to be, in personal
qualities, the most worthy to reign. These were the natural sons of
Henry. Robert, the son of the unknown French mother, came to fill no
small place in history as the renowned Earl of Gloucester; and the
short life of Richard, the son of the Berkshire widow, showed him as a
gallant soldier and something more. Thus the relations and the
succession of the two states of Normandy and England were settled. But
a personal matter still remained between the princes. At some earlier
time, most likely when he first received the Côtentin, Henry had
become the man of Robert. But now Henry was a king; Robert was to
remain only a duke. It was not becoming for a crowned and anointed
king to be the man of a mere duke. Henry was therefore released from
all personal obligations of homage towards his brother. Lastly, a
provision borrowed from the elder treaty was inserted, seemingly only
for form’s sake. Each prince bound himself to restore the lands and
honours of all men who had suffered forfeiture for supporting the
cause of the other. The treaty thus agreed to was, like the elder one,
confirmed by the oaths of twelve of the chief men on each side.[1049]
Part of the Duke’s army at once left England; part stayed till he
himself went back at Michaelmas. He tarried till then as his brother’s
guest, treated with all honour, and enriched with many gifts. But it
is recorded that the part of his army which stayed with him did much
harm in the land.[1050]
§ 4. _The Revolt of Robert of Bellême._
1102.
[Sidenote: Continued disloyalty of the Norman nobles.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s plan for breaking the power of the great barons.]
King Henry was now made fast in his kingdom; but he still had enemies
to strive against. The allegiance of many of the chief men of Norman
birth in England was still not a little doubtful. They had to be fully
brought under the royal power before either the King or his kingdom
could be safe. Henry, there can be little doubt, cold and calculating
as he was, formed a settled plan for breaking the power of those great
barons who, at least if they joined together, might easily make
themselves dangerous to the peace of the land. It was not his policy
to hurry, nor to make over-many enemies by attacking all the dangerous
men at once. The work was to be done bit by bit; opportunities were to
be found as they offered themselves, to settle matters with those who
had been traitors once and who were likely to be traitors again.
[Sidenote: The treaty does not apply to Flambard.]
[Sidenote: Death of Gilbert Bishop of Lisieux. August, 1101.]
[Sidenote: Fulcher, Flambard’s brother, holds the see. June 1102-January
1103.]
[Sidenote: Flambard receives the revenues under cover of his son.]
To some of the most dangerous traitors of all the provisions of the
late treaty did not apply. The Bishop of Durham had lost nothing in
the cause of Duke Robert. He had been imprisoned, and his
temporalities had been seized, on the ground of his old offences,
before Robert’s claims had been heard of. He had no claims to
restoration, nor did he as yet find any favour. He went back to
Normandy, and there, in his banishment to his native land, he found
means to provide for himself at the cost of one of its bishoprics.
Gilbert Maminot, the skilful leech whom the Conqueror had placed in
the see of Lisieux,[1051] died in August, while Duke Robert was in
England. The see was not filled till the next June, when it was given
to Flambard’s brother Fulcher, who was consecrated and held the
bishopric with a good reputation for liberality till his death seven
months later. Then Flambard caused the see to be bestowed on a young
son of his own, Thomas by name. As far as a not very intelligible
account can be made out, Thomas remained unconsecrated, while his
father received the revenues. It was not till after Henry’s conquest
of Normandy that a more regular appointment to the bishopric was
made.[1052]
[Sidenote: Banishment of the Earl of Surrey.]
[Sidenote: His restoration.]
Earl William of Warren too paid the penalty of rebellion, rebellion
aggravated by personal gibes against the King. If our accounts are
correct, he was disinherited so soon that he went away to Normandy in
company with Duke Robert. He is said to have had other companions in
the same case.[1053] He was afterwards restored at Robert’s
intercession; but the chronology is confused, and we may guess that
his fall did not happen quite so soon as is said. If he did suffer
forfeiture directly after the treaty, it must have been on some other
ground, and not that of taking Robert’s side during the quarrel, which
would have been covered by the treaty. On Earl William chastisement
had a good effect; he came back to be a loyal subject and special
friend of King Henry during the rest of his reign.[1054]
[Sidenote: Henry’s rewards and punishments.]
[Sidenote: Banishment of Robert Malet;]
[Sidenote: of Robert of Pontefract.]
[Sidenote: Private war unlawful in England.]
[Sidenote: Ivo of Grantmesnil harries his neighbours’ lands.]
[Sidenote: His trial, and conviction.]
[Sidenote: He asks help of Robert of Meulan.]
[Sidenote: Bargain between them.]
Other dangerous persons were got rid of one by one, as occasion
served. Henry rewarded bountifully all who served him faithfully; but
no enemy escaped him; no traitor avoided forfeiture or heavy
fines.[1055] Forfeiture came before long on some men who were, after
the earls, among the greatest of the men of Norman birth in England.
Such was Robert Malet, son of the gossip of King Harold, a man great
in the east of England. Such was one equally great in the north,
Robert of Pontefract, the son of Ilbert of Lacy. Charges were brought
against them in the King’s court, and forfeiture and banishment
followed.[1056] In another case we know the exact nature of the
charge, nor can we condemn the punishment, except so far as it was
turned to the private advantage of a favourite. It was our boast in
England that we needed not the Truce of God, that, alike before and
after King William came into England, private war, the dearest
privilege of the continental noble, was always a crime against the
law.[1057] But now Ivo of Grantmesnil, the rope-dancer of Antioch,
took upon him to bring the licence of Normandy into England, and to
lay waste the lands of some of his neighbours. This was a deed which
could not be passed by in the days of the King who had come to make
peace in the land. A trial, and a huge fine on conviction,
followed.[1058] Ivo, on the verge of ruin, betook himself to Count
Robert of Meulan. Let the Count reconcile him to the King, and he
would again go to the crusade, and try to wipe out the shame of his
former pilgrimage.[1059] A bargain was struck; Count Robert was to
give Ivo five hundred marks towards his journey to Palestine, and was
in return to take possession of all Ivo’s lands for fifteen years.
Then they were to go back to his son Ivo, now a child, who was to
marry the Count’s niece, the daughter of the Earl of Warwick.[1060]
The elder Ivo went on his second crusade with his wife, the daughter
of Gilbert of Ghent, and died on his pilgrimage. With him ended the
short-lived greatness of the house of Grantmesnil in England. The
inheritance of his father and grandfather passed away from the younger
Ivo to swell the fortunes of the chief counsellor of the King.[1061]
[Sidenote: Origin of the earldom of Leicester.]
[Sidenote: Ivo’s relations with Leicester.]
[Sidenote: Other lords in Leicester.]
[Sidenote: Robert Earl of Leicester. 1103.]
[Sidenote: Dies, 1118.]
[Sidenote: His college at Leicester. 1107.]
[Sidenote: Its endowments transferred to Leicester abbey. 1143.]
[Sidenote: 1530.]
The subtlety of the Count of Meulan was famous, and it enabled him to
change his fifteen years’ possession of the lands of Ivo of
Grantmesnil into a great hereditary earldom. A chief part of Ivo’s
position came from his relations to the town of Leicester. He had
succeeded his father as Sheriff of the shire and farmer of the royal
revenues. He was also castellan of the fortress above the Soar, the
fortress which the elder Eadmund won back for England and for
Christendom,[1062] where a mound older than Æthelflæd[1063] looks down
on the church of Robert of Meulan and the hall of Simon the Righteous.
But the lordship of the house of Grantmesnil over the old Danish
borough was not complete; besides the King and the Bishop of Lincoln,
some rights in Leicester belonged to Earl Simon of Northampton.[1064]
The cunning Count of Meulan contrived to unite all claims in himself,
and became the first of the Earls of Leicester,[1065] that title which
has passed to so many names, and which has drawn to itself alike the
glory of a Montfort and the shame of a Dudley. Earl Robert kept his
office and his prosperity for the remaining fifteen years of his life,
and then died, fifty-two years after the great battle, with the wrongs
of Ivo of Grantmesnil upon his conscience.[1066] Married, as we have
seen, somewhat late in life,[1067] he was the father of two sons, both
of whom were brought up with such care that they could, while still
young, hold logical disputations with cardinals.[1068] Of these
brothers, Robert, the elder, became a prosperous Earl of Leicester in
England, while his brother Waleran became an unlucky Count of Meulan
beyond the sea.[1069] Of one of his daughters we have already heard as
helping to swell the irregular household of King Henry.[1070] The Earl
himself remained the King’s counsellor, keeping on friendly terms with
Anselm, while cleaving steadfastly to the ancient law of England in
the matter of investitures.[1071] He too was an ecclesiastical
benefactor, though on no very great scale. He founded or restored a
college of canons within the castle of Leicester, where the small
church of his building may still be seen embedded in the greater
fabric into which it has grown.[1072] But the greater part of its
endowments were taken by the second Earl Robert to enrich the abbey of
our Lady of his own foundation, the abbey where a more famous cardinal
than those with whom its founder had disputed came to lay his
bones.[1073]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Christmas Gemót. 1101-1102.]
[Sidenote: Danger from Robert of Bellême.]
[Sidenote: The King watches him.]
[Sidenote: Easter Gemót. April 6, 1102.]
[Sidenote: Robert asks a licence to be accompanied by his men.]
[Sidenote: The licence is given.]
[Sidenote: Robert does not come.]
[Sidenote: The King’s proclamation.]
[Sidenote: He again summons Robert, who refuses to come.]
[Sidenote: The war begins.]
King Henry had thus overthrown several of his open or secret enemies,
and he doubtless wore his crown at the Christmas Gemót at Westminster
with a greater feeling of safety. But the greatest work of all had
still to be done. There was still one man in England whose presence
was utterly inconsistent with the rule of any king whose mind was to
give peace to his kingdom. Peace, in Henry’s sense of the word, could
not be in a land where Robert of Bellême was, to say the least, the
mightiest man after the King. Henry knew his man; he knew that, sooner
or later, the struggle must come between himself and such a subject.
For a whole year he kept his eye upon the Earl of Shropshire and all
his doings. Spies sent from the King watched all that he did; every
blameworthy act was carefully reported and set down in writing.[1074]
A bulky volume, one would think, must have been added to the library
of the learned King. At last the moment came when Henry thought that
it was time to act, and the form of action which he took was one which
followed more than one precedent in earlier reigns. The Easter Gemót
was to be held at Winchester. The King summoned Earl Robert to appear
before the Assembly, and to answer openly on forty-five distinct
charges of offences done either against the King or against his
brother the Duke.[1075] We do not read that Robert, like others in the
like case on earlier occasions, demanded a safe-conduct to go and to
return; but we do read that he demanded――and it is implied that the
demand was an usual one――a licence to come accompanied by his men.
They were to serve, we may suppose, either as compurgators or as
defenders by the strong hand, as things might turn out.[1076] The
demand was granted; Earl Roger set forth; the King and his barons were
waiting for his coming at Winchester; but he came not. On the road he
changed his mind; he knew that the result of any legal trial must be
against him; he deemed, and doubtless with truth, that he would be
safer in his own strong castles than he could be in the King’s court.
He fled, we are told, breathless and afraid, a description which does
not savour much of the fierce lord of Bellême. But at any rate the
King’s messenger had to report that the Earl of Shropshire had gone
elsewhere, and was not on his way to obey the King’s summons.[1077]
Henry did not hurry; he put forth a proclamation, declaring that the
Earl, lawfully charged with various crimes, had not come to make his
defence, and that, if he did not come at once to do right――to abide
his trial――he would be declared an outlaw.[1078] Along with the issue
of the public proclamation, the King, clearly anxious to give no
occasion for any man to say that the Earl had been harshly or
informally treated, sent him a second personal summons to appear
before the Assembly. This time Robert directly refused to come,[1079]
and open war broke out. The work of King Henry, as we have already
heard, was to destroy the ungodly within his kingdom.[1080] He had to
begin by doing that useful work on an offender whose ungodliness was
on the grandest scale of all.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Greatness of Robert’s possessions.]
[Sidenote: His acquisition of Ponthieu.]
[Sidenote: His brothers Arnulf and Roger.]
[Sidenote: Wide range of warfare and negotiation.]
[Sidenote: Welsh alliance of Robert.]
The overweening greatness of the house of Montgomery or Bellême, and
the personal energy of its members, is shown in the range both of
warfare and of negotiation which was opened by what was in its
beginning a mere legal process on the part of the King of the English
against an offending subject. We must always remember that, whatever
Robert was at Shrewsbury or at Montgomery, at Bellême he was something
more than an ordinary vassal of either king or duke. He had lately
increased his continental power by taking possession of the county of
Ponthieu, the inheritance of his son, who bore the name of his own
maternal grandfather, the terrible William Talvas.[1081] The Earl of
Shrewsbury was thus entitled to deal with princes as one of their own
order. He and the two best known of his brothers, those whom we have
already seen leagued with him, Arnulf of Montgomery, lord of Pembroke,
and Roger of Poitou, once lord of the land between Mersey and Ribble,
were now again firmly joined together against the King.[1082] And they
contrived to draw no small part of Northern Europe into a partnership
in their private quarrel. That Robert of Bellême should be able to get
together a large body of Welsh allies is in no way wonderful. He was
indeed the sternest enemy of their nation; but, among that divided
people, enmity on the part of one tribe or dynasty was a claim to
support on the part of another, and all tribes and dynasties forgot
every enmity and every wrong when there was a chance of harrying the
fields and homes of the Saxon. Welsh allies of the rebel Earl play an
important part in the story, and the more distant powers of Ireland
and Norway are also brought within its page.
[Sidenote: Revolt in Gwynedd.]
[Sidenote: Settlement of Gruffydd and of Cadwgan and his brothers.]
[Sidenote: Robert calls on the Welsh for help;]
[Sidenote: his gifts and promises.]
Just at this time the Welsh seem to have been stronger and more united
than usual. We have seen that their momentary subjugation after the
death of Earl Hugh of Shropshire had led to a successful movement
while his successor was busy on the continent.[1083] The men of
Gwynedd could not bear Norman rule; whether it took the form of law or
of unlaw, it was equally against the grain. Their leader now was Owen
son of Edwin, who, we are told, had been the first to bring the French
into Mona.[1084] This was before the end of the year of Earl Hugh’s
death; it was in the next year that Cadwgan and Gruffydd came back
from their Irish shelter.[1085] The phrase of the Welsh writer, that
they came to terms with “the French,” must be understood as referring
to their relations with Robert of Bellême. Cadwgan kept Ceredigion and
a part of Powys, for which he and his brothers Jorwerth and Meredydd
became the men of the Earl of Shropshire. Gruffydd seems to have held
Anglesey as a wholly independent prince; there is at least no mention
of vassalage in his case.[1086] Earl Robert now called on his British
vassals to help him in his struggle with the King. As there is no sign
that they had become the men either of King Henry or of any earlier
king, the law of Salisbury did not apply to them. The promises of
Robert of Bellême were splendid; so were his gifts; he almost seems to
have won the help of the Britons by a promised restoration of complete
freedom to their country.[1087] In the allies thus drawn to his
banners he professed the most boundless trust. He put into their
hands――so the Welsh writer tells us――his wealth and his cattle,
perhaps also, what a Norman lord would specially value, the horses of
noble breed which he had brought over from Spain, and whose race
flourished in the land of Powys long after.[1088] A great and motley
host was thus got together, which entered zealously into the cause of
the Earl, and did not pass by so good an opportunity of finding great
spoil.[1089]
[Sidenote: Arnulf’s dealings with Murtagh.]
[Sidenote: Negotiation with Magnus.]
[Sidenote: Murtagh sends his daughter to Arnulf.]
Meanwhile the Earl’s brother Arnulf at once strengthened the castle of
Pembroke and looked further for allies than the land of Ceredigion and
Powys. By the hands of his steward at Pembroke, Gerald of Windsor, he
sent to Ireland to King Murtagh, to ask for the king’s daughter in
marriage and for help in the struggle.[1090] From what followed, and
from the connexion between Murtagh and Magnus, we can hardly doubt
that the negotiations of Arnulf reached to Norway as well as to
Ireland, and that Magnus himself was a party to the course which was
at once followed by Murtagh. The Irish king promised his daughter to
the lord of Pembroke, in some sort his neighbour, and actually sent
her to her affianced husband on board a great fleet designed to
support the rebel cause.[1091]
[Sidenote: Henry’s negotiation with Duke Robert.]
[Sidenote: Duke Robert besieges Vignats.]
[Sidenote: Treason of Robert of Montfort and others.]
[Sidenote: Victory of the besieged.]
[Sidenote: Ravage of the Hiesmes.]
King Henry had thus plenty of foes to strive against in his work of
bringing back the reign of law and order in his kingdom. But he too
could negotiate beyond sea; he could stir up a diversion against the
Count of Bellême and Ponthieu, which might do something to weaken the
power of the Earl of Shropshire and lord of Arundel. The King sent
letters to his brother Duke Robert, setting forth how Earl Robert had
incurred forfeiture in the dominions of both of them, and how he had
treasonably refused to appear in the general Assembly of England. He
called on his brother to do as he was doing himself, and to smite the
man who was a traitor to both his lords with the vengeance that was
his due.[1092] The Duke attempted something after his fashion, that is
his fashion in Normandy and not his fashion in Syria. The man who had
been foremost in the crusading host had on his native soil sunk again
into the feeble and half-hearted ruler whom we knew of old. Yet he did
make an attempt to subdue the castles which held out for Robert of
Bellême in the land of Hiesmes. He laid siege to Vignats, a castle
lying south-east of Falaise, on a height looking to the north, not far
from one of the tributaries of the Dive. It was an old possession of
the house of Talvas, and in the next generation it became the site of
an abbey of Benedictine nuns.[1093] It was now held on behalf of
Robert of Bellême by a captain named Gerard of Saint Hilary. The
garrison, if their state of mind is rightly described, wished the
besiegers to make a fierce assault that they might have an excuse for
surrendering without dishonour.[1094] But, under the generalship of
Duke Robert on Norman ground, no fierce assault followed. There were
even traitors in the Duke’s camp. Robert of the Norman Montfort, whom
we have heard of in the wars of Maine,[1095] and other lords in the
Duke’s army, being, it would seem, in league with the rebels, burned
their quarters and fled, no man pursuing them. They even constrained
the loyal part of the army to flee with them.[1096] It was not
wonderful then that the garrison of Vignats plucked up heart, made a
vigorous sally, and chased the voluntary fliers with loud
shouts.[1097] A war followed, in which the whole land of Hiesmes was
laid waste. Not only Vignats, but Fourches, Argentan, and
Château-Gonthier further down the river, were all held by the rebels.
The loyal lords on both sides of the Oudon, Robert of Grantmesnil, the
other son of the old Sheriff of Leicestershire, his brother-in-law
Hugh of Mont-Pizon, and his other brother-in-law, Robert of Courcy,
strove in vain to defend their lands. But the rebels were too strong
for them, and the whole of that district of Normandy was laid waste
with havoc of every kind.[1098]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême strengthens his castles.]
[Sidenote: Works at Bridgenorth.]
[Sidenote: The King’s plans.]
[Sidenote: He besieges Arundel.]
[Sidenote: Truce with the besieged.]
[Sidenote: Robert and Arnulf harry Staffordshire.]
[Sidenote: Terms of the surrender of Arundel.]
King Henry managed matters better in his island. The rebel Earl put
all his castles in a state of defence. Arundel, Shrewsbury, and
Tickhill, were all garrisoned, all supplied with provisions. So too
was the Castle by the Bridge, where, as well as at Careghova, the
works, still, it would seem, not wholly finished, were pressed on by
day and night.[1099] The King had to choose which fortress he would
attack first. His plan seems to have been first to cut off Robert’s
outlying possessions, before he made any attack on the strongholds of
his power on the Welsh border. And, first of all, he led his
force――the host of England it is emphatically called――to the siege of
the Earl’s great South-Saxon castle, that which lay open to the chance
of help from the supporters of the rebel cause in Normandy.[1100] The
King marched to Arundel; he set up, after the usual fashion, two evil
neighbours to keep the fortress in check.[1101] He then gave part of
his army leave of absence while the work of blockade went on.[1102]
The zeal of the defenders of Arundel in the cause of their rebel lord
does not seem to have been strong; but they had a keen sense either of
the honour of soldiers or of the duty of vassals. This last, to be
sure, was a mistaken sense, according to the laws of England, above
all according to the great law of Salisbury. They craved a truce,
during which they might ask Earl Robert either to send them help or to
give them leave to surrender. Robert was far away in his Mercian
earldom, busy on two works. The defences of Bridgenorth were
strengthening day by day, and Robert and Arnulf, at the head of their
_Gal-Welsh_ and _Bret-Welsh_ forces――it is significantly hinted that
Englishmen had no share in the evil work――were harrying the
neighbouring parts of Staffordshire. A great booty of cattle, and some
human captives, were carried off into Wales, the price of the help
given by Cadwgan and his brother.[1103] The messengers from Arundel
found their lord at some stage of these employments, and set forth to
him the danger in which they stood from the King’s leaguer. Mournful,
but feeling himself unable to send help to so distant a post, Robert
of Bellême gave his garrison of Arundel full leave to make what terms
they could with the King.[1104] They surrendered at once and with
great joy; but they honourably stipulated that their lord Earl Robert
should be allowed to go safe into Normandy. The King received them
graciously and rewarded them with rich gifts.[1105] Arundel passed
into the royal hands, to become in the next reign the seat of a more
abiding earldom in the hands of the famous houses of Aubigny and
Fitzalan, and to pass through them to the more modern, but perhaps
more English, line of Howard.[1106]
[Sidenote: Surrender of Tickhill.]
[Sidenote: Question of the King’s presence.]
[Sidenote: Action of Robert Bloet.]
[Sidenote: Later history of Tickhill.]
The surrender of Arundel took away all fear lest any help should come
to Robert of Bellême from his Norman partisans. But before the King
made any movement towards the lands on the Severn, he marched far to
the north-east, to the lands watered by the tributaries of the
northern Ouse, on the borders of Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire. Here
the mound of Tickhill was still held for the rebel Earl, and the new
gate-house of his predecessor’s building still frowned defiance in the
teeth of any advancing enemy.[1107] But Tickhill proved yet an easier
conquest than Arundel. It needed no _Malvoisin_, no messages sent to
Shrewsbury or Bridgenorth, to persuade its garrison to surrender.
According to one version, the siege was not even deemed worthy of the
royal presence. While Henry himself marched to the greater enterprise
at Bridgenorth, a spiritual lord was deemed to be captain enough for
the siege of Tickhill. The work to be done there was entrusted to the
hands of Bishop Robert of Lincoln.[1108] According to another version,
which is perhaps not quite inconsistent with the other, the King
himself appeared before Tickhill, and the garrison at once marched
forth with all readiness to meet their natural lord――_cynehlaford_ to
Normans and Englishmen alike, _cynehlaford_ above all to Yorkshiremen,
if he was really born in their shire――and received him with all
fitting joy.[1109] The castle of Tickhill or Blyth passed back again
for a while to the kinsfolk of its former owner, and afterwards became
a possession of the Crown.[1110] A collegiate chapel was founded
within its walls by the first Queen Eleanor, and in the reign of her
son Richard the ground between Tickhill and Blyth became the special
scene of fantastic displays of chivalrous rashness.[1111] There was no
licensed tournament-ground at Tickhill or elsewhere in the days of the
King who made peace for man and deer.[1112]
[Sidenote: Henry’s Shropshire campaign. Autumn, 1102.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême at Shrewsbury.]
[Sidenote: Defence of Bridgenorth.]
[Sidenote: The three captains.]
[Sidenote: Robert son of Corbet.]
[Sidenote: Robert Neville?]
[Sidenote: Wulfgar the huntsman.]
[Sidenote: Action of the Welsh princes.]
The more distant possessions of the rebel Earl were thus brought under
the King’s obedience. The peace of King Henry reigned in Sussex, in
Yorkshire, and in Nottinghamshire. Now came the time for attacking the
special strongholds of Robert’s own earldom; the stage of attacking
himself was to come last of all. After the surrender of Arundel and
Tickhill, the King allowed his men a breathing-time;[1113] then, in
the course of the autumn, he gathered together the forces of all
England for the final overthrow of the rebellion. Robert of Bellême
had chosen his capital of Shrewsbury as the post which he would defend
himself. His new fortress of Bridgenorth he placed in the hands of
three chosen captains, at the head of eighty mercenary knights,
attended doubtless by a fitting following of lower degree.[1114] Of
the three leaders, Robert son of Corbet――a name which was to become
abiding in those parts――was a hereditary follower of the house of
Montgomery; he appears in Domesday as the holder of a large estate
under Earl Roger.[1115] To another captain, Robert _de Nova Villa_, we
have no certain clue; Neuvevilles and Newtons abound in Normandy and
England; he may or he may not have been a forefather of the historic
Nevilles. The third awakens more interest; his name seems to be
English; he is Wulfgar the huntsman.[1116] Nor is there the slightest
reason to think that Robert of Bellême would reject the services of a
born Englishman in any post, if the man himself seemed likely to suit
his purpose. These three, with the regular force at their command, had
to defend the Castle by the Bridge; the Welsh princes, Cadwgan and
Jorwerth, with their less disciplined bands, were planted in the
neighbourhood, to annoy the King’s troops, as they might find
occasion.[1117]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême seizes the land of William Pantulf.]
[Sidenote: He rejects his services.]
[Sidenote: William Pantulf joins the King.]
[Sidenote: He commands at Stafford;]
[Sidenote: his services.]
But, while Earl Robert knew how to make use of the services of Robert
the son of Corbet, he had the folly to make an enemy of another old
follower of his father. He had already, for what cause we are not
told, seized the lands of William Pantulf, who appears in Domesday as
holding under Earl Roger a great estate in Shropshire, a small one in
Staffordshire, and an empty house in the town of Stafford.[1118] He
was a tried and valiant warrior, and he now, forgetting his late
wrongs, offered his services to the son of his old benefactor in his
time of need. Earl Robert thrust him aside with scorn, on which
William betook himself to the King, by whom his merits were better
valued. Henry had known him of old, and now gladly received him.
William Pantulf was sent at the head of two hundred knights, to
command the castle of Stafford, a castle which had risen and fallen in
the days of the Conqueror, and which must have by this time risen
again.[1119] The local knowledge and interest of William Pantulf in
the two neighbouring shires seems to have stood him in good stead. He
acted vigorously against the lord who had scorned him, and no one, we
are told, did more towards bringing about the final overthrow of the
proud Earl.[1120]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Relation of Normans and English.]
[Sidenote: Division of feeling in the army.]
[Sidenote: Siege of Bridgenorth.]
[Sidenote: The King builds a _Malvoisin_.]
[Sidenote: The great men lean to Robert of Bellême.]
And now we get one of our most instructive pictures of the time, and
of the difference of feeling among men of the time. We distinctly see
the difference of feeling between Normans and English. But they are no
longer labelled as Normans and English, as they were only a year
before. They are spoken of simply as different classes in one army.
Six-and-thirty years after the day of Senlac, we are but seldom
dealing with the men who fought for Harold or for William; we have
come to their sons or even their grandsons. But the great men of the
army and the small men, of whom the former class would be all but
wholly Norman, while the latter would be Normans and English
intermingled in various proportions, had quite different views as to
the proper policy for King Henry to follow. And King Henry’s own views
agreed with the views of the small men, and not with the views of the
great. The army was gathered before Bridgenorth, and a regular siege
was opened. The King brought up his engines of war; he built a fort to
check the approach of any relief to the castle[1121]――was it on
Oldbury, was it on the northern side, beyond the surviving gate of the
town, or did it guard the river from the opposite side of the bridge?
The siege lasted three weeks;[1122] and the course of events shows
that it cannot have been at any very late stage of it that King Henry
found that he had in his camp two widely different classes of men.
There were in it men who were working honestly in his service, men who
strove heartily for his success, knowing that the interests of King
and people were the same. There were also men there to whom the
interests of their own order were dearer than those of either King or
people, and who feared that the overthrow of the power of the Earl of
Shropshire might tend to the lessening of their own power, perhaps of
their own possessions. We have seen the same division of feeling
before the walls of Rochester;[1123] we now see it beneath the cliff
of Bridgenorth. The earls and great men of the kingdom who were in the
army came together in separate consultations. They argued that it was
not for their interest that the power of Robert of Bellême should be
utterly broken. If the King dealt so with the greatest of his nobles,
he might deal in the like sort with the rest, and might tread them
under his feet like servants and handmaidens.[1124] It would suit them
far better to bring about a peace between the King and the Earl. It
would have been, one may guess, a peace by which Robert of Bellême
should keep his earldom and the castles within his earldom, but should
leave to the King the castles and lands which the King had already
won. In this way they would put an end to disputes, and would make
both the King and the Earl their debtors.[1125]
[Sidenote: The smaller men, Normans and English, faithful to the King.]
[Sidenote: Meeting of the nobles.]
[Sidenote: Gathering of the mass of the army.]
[Sidenote: Appeal of the army to the King.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s faith pledged for Robert’s life.]
So reasoned the great men, the Norman nobles, the men to most of whom
Robert of Bellême was a countryman and a comrade, and none of whom
were likely to have felt the grip of his iron claws[1126] in their own
persons. So reasoned not the sons of the soil; so reasoned not men of
any race who were lowly enough to feel that in the power of the
King――that is in Henry’s days, the power of law――lay their only hope
of shelter against smaller oppressors. The great men came together in
a field――perhaps in the meadows beside the Severn――and there held a
_parliament_ with the King――a meeting, one might say, of the Witan
from which the land-sitting men were shut out――and earnestly pressed
peace upon the King.[1127] Henry’s own feelings were clearly the other
way; and those who were shut out from the counsels of the great ones
now came to his help. Three thousand men of the mass of the army, men
seemingly of the shire most nearly concerned, who were stationed on
one of the neighbouring hills, knew, by whatever means, the counsel of
the leaders, and were minded to have their voice in the matter
too.[1128] If the King chose to hold a military Gemót, an assembly of
the armed nation,[1129] they had a right to be heard as well as men of
higher degree. At Rochester too the English soldiers had spoken their
minds; but to the Red King they must have spoken them through an
interpreter. But Henry knew the tongue of his people, and we may fancy
him not unwilling to listen to counsels which he could hear and weigh,
while the mass of those of whom he had reason to be jealous understood
not what was said. A vigorous speech, which doubtless fairly
represents the feelings of the moment, is put into the mouths of the
three thousand or their leaders; “Lord King Henry, trust not those
traitors. They do but strive to deceive you, and to take away from you
the strength of kingly justice. Why do you listen to them who would
have you spare the traitor and leave unpunished the conspiracy of
those who seek your death? Behold we all stand by you faithfully; we
are ready to serve and help you in all things. Attack the castle
vigorously; shut in the traitor on all sides, and make no peace with
him till you have him alive or dead in your hands.”[1130] The speakers
do not call, as the English before Rochester called in the case of
Odo, for the judicial death of the traitor. The faith of Henry was
pledged to the garrison of Arundel that Robert of Bellême should be
allowed to go safe into Normandy.[1131] But the three thousand clearly
cherished a hope, perhaps that Robert’s own men might turn against
him, certainly that, when Bridgenorth should fall and Shrewsbury
should be beleagued, then some lucky bolt from an arrow or a mangonel
might light on him before the time of surrender came, or, best of all
for those who had felt his iron claws, that he might fall beneath one
of their own axes in a sally or a storm.
[Sidenote: Henry seeks to detach the Welsh from Robert.]
[Sidenote: Dealings of William Pantulf with Jorwerth.]
[Sidenote: Henry’s great promises to Jorwerth.]
[Sidenote: Jorwerth makes the Welsh change sides.]
The King listened to the counsels of his advisers of lower degree, but
of more honest hearts. King and people were one, and the designs of
the traitors in the camp were brought to naught.[1132] First of all,
Henry determined to weaken the strength of Robert, and no doubt to
relieve his own army from a never-ending annoyance, by detaching the
Welsh force from the cause of the rebels. William Pantulf, who was
doubtless well known to the Britons, acted as the King’s agent with
Jorwerth son of Bleddyn. We are not told why he was thought more easy
to win over than his brothers; but it seems plain that the negotiation
was carried on with him only, unknown to Cadwgan and Meredydd.[1133]
The King invited Jorwerth to his presence, with the assurance that he
would do more for him than Earl Robert and his brothers could
do.[1134] Jorwerth came; the gifts of King Henry were acceptable; his
promises were magnificent indeed. As long as Henry lived――it was wise
not to bind his successor――the British prince should have, free of all
homage and all tribute, Powys, Ceredigion, half Dyfed with the castle
of Pembroke, the vale of Teifi, Kidwelly, and Gower.[1135] Such a
dominion would give its holder a seaboard on two seas; it would leave
under English rule little beyond the central and southern lands of
Brecheiniog, Gwent, and Morganwg, and the outlying land of Pembroke,
which would thus be most distinctly “Little England beyond Wales.” We
are not told what was to be the fate of Cadwgan when Jorwerth received
this great inheritance; but Jorwerth himself naturally caught at such
a prospect. And it seems that his power over his countrymen was so
great that, while his brothers knew nothing of what was going on,
Jorwerth was able to turn the whole British force which had come to
the Earl’s help to the side of the King. The Welshmen now harried the
lands of the Earl and his friends instead of those of his enemies, and
carried off a vast booty.[1136] In any case the lands of some one were
harried, and for the Britons that was doubtless enough.
[Sidenote: Henry’s dealings with the captains at Bridgenorth.]
[Sidenote: Mediation of William Pantulf.]
[Sidenote: The captains promise to surrender.]
Having thus relieved himself of the enemy who hung upon his flanks,
Henry began to deal directly with the defenders of Bridgenorth. Three
of the leaders――we may safely guess that Roger son of Corbet, Robert
of Neville, and Wulfgar, are the three meant――were invited to the
King’s presence. They doubtless had a safe-conduct for that once; but
they had to take back an ugly message to their comrades. The King
swore in the hearing of all men that, unless they surrendered the
castle within three days, he would hang every man of the garrison that
he could catch.[1137] The three captains, whose necks were in as much
danger as those of their followers, began to consult for their own
safety. They asked William Pantulf, as their neighbour, to act as a
mediator between them and the King.[1138] At their request, he came to
them, and made them a set speech on the duty of surrendering the
castle to the lawful king. And his eloquence was backed by one special
argument which shows that, in one point at least, Henry had made some
progress in the school of Rufus. William was commissioned to swear in
the King’s name that submission should be rewarded by an addition to
the estates of each of the captains of lands of a hundred pounds’
worth.[1139] Moved, we are told, by a sense of the common good, the
captains agreed, and, to avoid all further danger, submitted to the
King’s will.[1140] They were allowed to send a message to Earl Robert
to say that they could hold out no longer against the invincible power
of King Henry.[1141]
[Sidenote: Position of Robert.]
[Sidenote: His dealings with Ireland and Norway.]
[Sidenote: Arnulf goes to Ireland.]
[Sidenote: Magnus in Anglesey.]
[Sidenote: His castle-building in Man.]
[Sidenote: Robert vainly asks help of Magnus.]
[Sidenote: Failure of the Irish scheme.]
[Sidenote: Robert of Bellême left alone.]
Robert of Bellême was now nearly at the end of his hopes and of his
wits. His distant castles were lost; Bridgenorth, his own work, his
newest work, was as good as lost; William Pantulf, able and active,
had turned against him; his Welsh allies had failed him; Cadwgan and
Meredydd were still at his side;[1142] but they were useless guests
now that Jorwerth had turned the whole power of the Britons to the
other side. He still held Shrewsbury; but it was hard to defy the
strength of the whole kingdom from within the walls of a single
fortress. In his despair, he caught at the hope of making his peace
with the King;[1143] he caught also at the most distant chances of
stirring up enemies against the King. The Britons had proved a broken
reed; he would try the Irish and the Northmen. The Irish fleet was
said to be actually coming; Arnulf was sent, or went of his own
accord, to hasten the pace of these new allies, who, beside such help
as they might give to Robert, were to bring Arnulf himself a wife who
might one day give him a crown. But as Arnulf took his own men with
him, Robert was yet further weakened by his going.[1144] At this
moment one more chance seemed to offer itself. The Norwegian King was
once more afloat, and that for the last time. His course was much the
same as on his former voyage. He sailed by the Orkneys and the
Sudereys to Man, and thence once more to Anglesey.[1145] Here, we are
told, he busied himself in cutting down timber for the repair of
certain castles in Man which he had formerly destroyed. It must have
been at this stage of the voyage of Magnus that Earl Robert sent a
message craving help at his hands. It must have cost Robert somewhat
of an effort to ask help of the slayer of his brother, and, unless we
attribute to the Norwegian King a general interest in confusion
everywhere, it is hard to see on what ground Magnus could be expected
to help Robert of Bellême against King Henry. The Northman refused all
help. It would seem too that the Irish alliance came to nothing; one
version at least makes this the moment when the daughter of Murtagh
was given to Sigurd the son of Magnus, and not to Arnulf of
Montgomery.[1146] Every chance of help far and near had failed the
once mighty lord of so many lands and castles; his old friends had
turned against him; his strivings to win new friends had failed. As
far as England was concerned, Earl Robert seemed to be left alone on
the mound of Shrewsbury.
[Sidenote: Divisions in Bridgenorth;]
[Sidenote: the captains and the townsmen for surrender;]
[Sidenote: the mercenaries wish to hold out.]
[Sidenote: They are overpowered.]
[Sidenote: Surrender of Bridgenorth.]
[Sidenote: The mercenaries march out with the honours of war.]
And yet for a moment one hope seemed left to him. The message of the
three captains which announced the speedy surrender of Bridgenorth was
premature. Roger, Robert, and Wulfgar, had promised more than they
could do at the moment. There was a wide difference of interest
between two classes of men who stood side by side on the height of
Bridgenorth. The captains and the burgesses of the town――for such a
class had already in the space of four years sprung up at the gate of
Earl Robert’s castle[1147]――were of one mind, the mercenary soldiers
were of another. The three captains, the townsmen, and doubtless any
of the Earl’s soldiers of whatever rank who were English by birth or
settlement, any who had any stake on English soil, were eager to come
to terms with the King. So to do was their manifold interest and
manifest duty; it was a special interest and duty of the captains who
had promised so to do, and who looked for such rich rewards for so
doing. But to the mercenary soldiers of Earl Robert, professional
fighting men picked out from many lands, things had another look. They
had no stake in England; they cared nothing for King Henry and for the
peace of his kingdom. The more the peace of England was likely to be
disturbed, the better it would be for them. Any glimmering of duty
which found a place in their minds would be a feeling of rude
faithfulness to the master whom they served, the rebel Earl whose
bread they had eaten. The mercenaries therefore cried out loudly
against the submission to which, without taking them into their
counsels, the captains and the townsmen had agreed. They seized their
arms, and strove to hinder the carrying out of the surrender which had
been promised.[1148] But the captains, with the townsmen and the loyal
party in the garrison, were too strong for them; they were themselves
made prisoners and shut up within some one part of the castle.[1149]
The surrender was now carried out; the gates were opened; the royal
troops marched up the path which led to the castle, and the banner of
England again floated over the height crowned by the stronghold of
Æthelflæd.[1150] The joy of the men of Bridgenorth was great, and on
that day of deliverance no man was inclined to harshness. King Henry
could honour the faithfulness of the Earl’s mercenaries to their own
lord, even though that faithfulness was, in the eye of the law,
treason to himself and his kingdom. They were allowed to go forth with
the honours of war, with their arms and their horses. Whither they
went we are not told. They may even have entered the King’s service.
The prudence of Henry might be trusted not to let them go anywhither
where they were likely to be dangerous. And, as they came forth
between the ranks of the besiegers, they were allowed to tell their
tale in the hearing of all men. It was not, they said, to be turned to
the shame of their calling that the Castle by the Bridge had been
given up without a blow. They were guiltless; the deed was done by the
guile of faithless captains and of unwarlike townsmen.[1151] King and
people might admire, in truth there is something to admire, in the
mistaken faithfulness of these men, even to an evil cause. But King
and people had still work on their hands; the arch-enemy had still to
be found, alive or dead, in the last stronghold which held out for
him.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Robert still holds Shrewsbury.]
[Sidenote: Shrewsbury castle.]
[Sidenote: Despair of Robert.]
[Sidenote: The King’s march to Shrewsbury.]
[Sidenote: Gathering of the English army.]
[Sidenote: Zeal of the troops.]
[Sidenote: Nature of the road.]
[Sidenote: The road is cleared.]
And now came the last act of the drama, the last stage of the
struggle which was to make Henry truly king, and to give England
three-and-thirty years of peace under his rule. With the news of the
fall of Bridgenorth all hope passed away from the heart of Robert of
Bellême. One strong fortress indeed was still his. Earl of the
Mercians, Earl of Shropshire, he could call himself no longer; lord of
Shrewsbury he still was, while he still kept the castle of his capital
as the last abiding seat of rebellion. All the distinctive features of
Shrewsbury in later times, town, churches, castle, abbey, were all
there. On the neck of the peninsula girded by the Severn, on ground
high in itself though lower than some points of the hill town behind
it, the mound of Old-English days which had supplanted the old seat of
British kingship, and which was now crowned by the fortress of his
father, still was his.[1152] Its towers rose as high as the loftiest
buildings of the town which they kept in awe; from their height he
might look forth on the mountain land which had been won for his
earldom by his father’s power; he might look down on the broad and
rushing river, and on his father’s minster beyond its stream.[1153]
But the mountain land, so lately his ally, had now turned against him;
the stream of Severn brought no help to the beleaguered fortress; no
prayers, we may be sure, went up for the son of Mabel from the altars
whose guardians had seen the virtues and tasted the bounty of Adeliza.
The stern earl, thus utterly forsaken, lost his fierce and defiant
spirit; he groaned for sorrow; he knew not which way to turn for help
or counsel.[1154] And soon he felt that his hour indeed was come, when
he saw the royal banners draw near to his last stronghold. As soon as
Bridgenorth had fallen, the march on Shrewsbury began. A mighty host
it was which set forth on the errand of deliverance. We take the
figures as merely the conventional expression of a vast number, when
we read that sixty thousand Englishmen gathered around the standard of
King Henry of England.[1155] They marched with a will, eager to meet
the great oppressor face to face, to bring the last stronghold of
wrong under the dominion of law, to join in their king’s work of
rooting out the ungodly that were in the land. Englishmen had gone
forth with a will to the siege of Rochester, perhaps to the siege of
Bamburgh; but then they had gone forth at the bidding of a king who
was wholly a stranger. Now they gathered around a king, born indeed of
the foreign stock, but a king of their own choice, born on their own
soil, cheering them on in their own tongue, a king whom they might
well deem a truer Ætheling than the grandson of Ironside born in
distant Hungary or than the son of Harold brought up among the wikings
of the North. The road by which they had to march was one which had
dangers of its own. It was a road among hills, sometimes rough with
stones; in one part it was for a mile’s space a mere hollow way,
overhung by a thick wood, a path so narrow that two horses could
hardly pass, a path which men called the _Evil Hedge_. Among the trees
on either side archers might easily lurk, to the no small loss of the
host which had to march between two fires.[1156] The King accordingly
first sent forward his pioneers to clear the way for his army and for
all travellers along that road for ever. The wood was cut down on both
sides, the path was widened, and the evil hedge became a broad road
along which the great host of England could march in safety.[1157]
[Sidenote: Robert sends to ask for peace.]
[Sidenote: The King refuses terms.]
[Sidenote: Robert submits at discretion.]
[Sidenote: He is sent out of England.]
Along the new-made road King Henry marched to a bloodless conquest. He
had no need to throw up a bank or to shoot an arrow against the mound
and the towers of Shrewsbury. On his way he was met by an embassy from
Earl Robert, asking for peace. The terms are not told us, but the
answer implied that Robert still asked for terms. He may have hoped,
shut out as he was from everything else, still to keep the capital of
his earldom, perhaps as a means for one day winning back all that he
had lost. But the King and his host were in no mood to listen to
terms; they longed for the last attack on the arch-enemy. The answer,
the decree, as we read it, of the armed Gemót, was that Robert of
Bellême must hope for no mercy, unless he came and freely threw
himself into the King’s hands.[1158] In that case, it will be
remembered, the King’s word was pledged for his life and his safe
passage to Normandy. Robert consulted the few friends whom he had
left, and their advice at last bent his proud heart to an
unconditional submission. Nine days had passed since the surrender of
Bridgenorth[1159] when the royal force drew near to Shrewsbury. Robert
of Bellême came forth in person to meet them; he knelt, we may
suppose, before the King; he confessed his treason, and placed in the
King’s hands the keys of Shrewsbury, city and castle. He thus gave up
for ever his last English possession, the head of that great earldom
which his father had received from the hands of the King’s
father.[1160] As far as England was concerned, the lord of Bellême, a
moment before lord of Shrewsbury, was a landless man. The King
strictly kept his word to the suppliant; but he would not grant him
the slightest favour beyond what his word bound him to. Robert was
untouched in life and limb, he received a safe-conduct to the
sea-shore, and he was allowed to keep his arms and horses, a needful
defence in case of irregular attack.[1161] And so the land was free
from its worst enemy; the devil of Bellême was cast out of the realm
of England. Evil men no doubt were left behind; but none, we may
believe, who would refuse to ransom his prisoners, for the mere
pleasure of seeing them die of hunger or of torture.
[Sidenote: Joy at Robert’s overthrow.]
[Sidenote: The song of deliverance.]
[Sidenote: Banishment of Arnulf and Roger.]
[Sidenote: The King’s hatred towards the whole family.]
[Sidenote: Later history of Robert of Bellême.]
The work was done; the host of victorious Englishmen marched back to
their homes.[1162] The joy of the land at the great deliverance was
beyond words. The tyrant was overthrown, the King was now king indeed.
The national joy is set before us as bursting forth in a kind of
rhythmical song, which reminds us of those fragments of primæval
poetry which remain imbedded in the history of the Hebrews. We hear
the same strain as that which denounced woe to Moab and rejoiced in
the undoing of the people of Chemosh,[1163] when Englishmen are
described as gathering round their King, and shouting the hymn of
victory. “Rejoice, King Henry, and give thanks to the Lord God, now
that thou hast overthrown Robert of Bellême and hast driven him from
the borders of thy kingdom.”[1164] Nor was he driven forth alone. The
King had good grounds for the banishment of his chief accomplices, his
two brothers Arnulf and Roger, and for the seizure of their
lands.[1165] His hatred towards the whole house of Montgomery, or
rather towards the whole house of Talvas, had become so great that he
would not endure that any member of it should hold lands or honours in
his kingdom. Robert of Bellême himself went over to Normandy, to raise
new disturbances there. At a later time he was again twice to visit
England, once as an ambassador, and again as a prisoner, a prisoner in
a prison so strait that no man knew whether he lived or died.[1166]
But his part, a part only of four years, as an English earl and
perhaps the greatest of English land-owners, was played out for ever.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Death of Magnus. 1103.]
[Sidenote: A Giffard in his fleet.]
[Sidenote: Later history of Jorwerth.]
[Sidenote: War between Jorwerth and his brothers.]
[Sidenote: Meredydd imprisoned.]
[Sidenote: Jorwerth cedes Ceredigion to Cadwgan.]
[Sidenote: The King does not fulfil his promises to Jorwerth.]
[Sidenote: Grant of Gower and other lands to Howel.]
[Sidenote: Jorwerth tried at Shrewsbury and imprisoned. 1103.]
[Sidenote: Gemóts held in various places under Henry.]
[Sidenote: Shrewsbury a former place of meeting.]
[Sidenote: The earldom of Shrewsbury.]
[Sidenote: Trial of Jorwerth.]
[Sidenote: His conviction and imprisonment.]
[Sidenote: His later history.]
Of the other chief actors in the events of those four years, King
Magnus died the year after the fall of Robert of Bellême, in his last
and greatest attack on Ireland.[1167] It awakens some interest when we
read that he had in his host a stranger who bore the great Norman name
of Giffard.[1168] Was he an accomplice, was he a messenger, of Earl
Robert of Shropshire? Towards the Welsh prince Jorwerth, who had done
so much on both sides in the course of the rebellion, Henry was,
according to the Welsh writers, far from keeping his word. It is not
wonderful that enmity arose between Jorwerth and his brothers after
his conduct during the siege of Bridgenorth. He seems to have waged
open war with them in the King’s name. For we are told that he seized
his brother Meredydd and handed him over to the King or imprisoned him
in a royal prison.[1169] But with Cadwgan he made peace, giving up to
him a large share of his promised dominions, namely the lands which
Cadwgan had before held of Robert of Bellême, Ceredigion and part of
Powys. It was perhaps this agreement with an enemy which offended
Henry. When Jorwerth came, seemingly to receive his grant from the
King’s hands, he received nothing. Dyfed and the castle of Pembroke,
far too precious a stronghold to be left in the hands of any Briton,
was entrusted to a knight named Saer, from whom it afterwards passed
to Gerald of Windsor, a man who had already bravely defended it, and
whom the King had his own reasons for promoting.[1170] But the
remainder of the promised possessions of Jorwerth, the vale of Teifi,
Gower, and Kidwelly, were, by a breach of promise which must have been
yet more galling, granted to another Welsh lord, Howel son of
Goronwy.[1171] The next year Jorwerth was summoned before an assembly
at Shrewsbury, the place renowned for the trial of a more famous Welsh
prince of later days. The choice of the place is characteristic of the
reign of Henry, under whom national assemblies were held in various
parts of the kingdom, and were no longer confined to the three places
to which custom had confined them under Eadward, Harold, and the two
Williams.[1172] It was but a return to older custom; Shrewsbury had
been the seat of more than one memorable assembly in earlier
times;[1173] but this was the first time that Shrewsbury in its new
form had seen a great national gathering; it was the first assembly
that had been held since the English mound had become the kernel of
Earl Roger’s castle, and since Earl Roger’s abbey had arisen beyond
the river. Earls had now passed away from Shrewsbury; no such title
was heard again till the days of the famous Talbot, when it was in
French and not in English ears that the name was terrible. After the
four years’ rule of Robert of Bellême, there was doubtless much to
settle in his former earldom and along the whole Welsh border. In the
assembly held for that end Jorwerth appeared and was put upon his
trial. We should be well pleased to have as full an account of the
proceedings against the British prince as we have of the proceedings
against Bishop William of Durham. But the story was not deemed worth
recording by any English writer; the Welsh, who bitterly complain of
the injustice of the court, tell us how, after a day’s pleading,
Jorwerth was declared guilty and committed to prison.[1174] He was
afterwards set free, and again played a part among his own people; but
a patriotic Welsh chronicler laments that the hope, the fortitude, the
strength, and the happiness of all the Britons failed them when
Jorwerth was put in bonds.[1175]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Establishment of Henry’s power.]
[Sidenote: Banishment of William of Mortain, 1104.]
[Sidenote: His imprisonment after Tinchebrai. 1106.]
[Sidenote: His alleged blinding.]
[Sidenote: Peace of Henry’s reign. 1102-1135.]
[Sidenote: Henry and Roger of Sicily.]
[Sidenote: Character of Henry’s reign.]
[Sidenote: Its promises how far fulfilled.]
[Sidenote: The reign of law.]
[Sidenote: Effects of Henry’s reign.]
[Sidenote: Henry the Second.]
[Sidenote: Fusion of Normans and English under Henry.]
[Sidenote: Henry the refounder of the English nation.]
[Sidenote: He embodies the process of fusion.]
King Henry had at last done his work. When Robert of Bellême was cast
out, his throne remained safe and his kingdom peaceful. Two years
later indeed there was another enemy to cast out; but the ease with
which the work was now done showed how thoroughly the harder work had
been done before Bridgenorth and Shrewsbury. When the King’s near
kinsman and bitter enemy, Count William of Mortain, would fain have
had the earldom of Kent and have been another Odo in it, there was no
need of a siege of Pevensey or of Montacute. A simple legal process
was enough to send him out of the land without slash or blow.[1176] He
lived to try the chance of slash and blow at Tinchebrai, and to meet
with a heavy doom, live-long bonds, perhaps borne in blindness, at the
hands of his offended cousin and sovereign.[1177] His ambition could
not disturb the peace of the land for a single day; the might of armed
unlaw had been broken when the gates of Shrewsbury opened to receive
King Henry. From that day for three-and-thirty years, a wonder in
those days, a whole kingdom saw neither civil war nor foreign
invasion. As Italy rested of old under Theodoric, as Sicily rested
under his contemporary Roger, so England rested under Henry. The two
Norman and insular kings, lords of the great island of the
Mediterranean and of the great island of the Ocean, had each his wars
to wage. But each kept his battle-ground on the mainland, while his
island realm abode in peace. The bright promises with which the reign
of Henry opened, the dreams of an English king reigning over an
English people, were not wholly fulfilled. The fair dawn was in some
measure clouded over; the winning promises were not in everything
carried out. Still things were not under Henry as they had been under
his brother. The dawn was never changed into the blackness of
darkness; the promises of righteous and national rule were never
utterly trampled under foot. Under the strong hand of the Lion of
Justice such deeds as those of Robert of Bellême became impossible.
The complaints of exactions in money go on throughout his reign. The
more grievous complaints of the wrongs done by his immediate followers
are not heard of after the stern statute by which Henry and Anselm
joined together to check their misdoings. Under Henry law did not
always put on a winning shape; but it was felt that the reign of law
in any shape was better than the reign of unlaw. It may be that the
very restraint under which the powers of evil were kept down during
the reign of Henry led to a fiercer outbreak when they were set free
at his death. But the same process had given the nation life and
strength to bear up through the frightful years of anarchy, and to be
ready at their close to welcome another Henry again to do justice and
make peace. But above all, the rule of Henry wiped out the distinction
which, at his accession, had divided the conquerors and the conquered.
Under him Normans born on English ground grew up as Englishmen. They
felt as Englishmen, when the second restoration of the reign of law
brought with it, as its dark side, the preference of men from beyond
the sea to the sons of the soil of either race. With all his faults,
his vices, his occasional crimes, Henry the Clerk, the first of the
new line who was truly an English Ætheling, must rank before all other
kings as the refounder of the English nation. He is himself the
embodiment of the process by which the Norman on English soil washed
off the varnish of his two centuries’ sojourn by the Seine, and came
back to his true place in the older Teutonic fellowship of Angle,
Saxon, and Dane. When Henry gave back to his people the laws of King
Eadward with the amendments of King William, he wrote in advance the
whole later history of England. The old stock was neither cut down nor
withered away; but a new stock was grafted upon it. And it was no
unworthy fruit that it bore in the person of the King in whose days
none durst misdo with other.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The compromise with Anselm. 1107.]
[Sidenote: The war with Robert.]
[Sidenote: 1106.]
[Sidenote: The reign of Rufus how far an episode.]
[Sidenote: Problem of reconciling England to the Conquest.]
[Sidenote: Not solved under Rufus,]
[Sidenote: but solved by Henry.]
[Sidenote: England no longer a conquered land.]
[Sidenote: The Conquest at once confirmed and undone.]
[Sidenote: Import of the surrender of Shrewsbury.]
With the firm establishment of Henry’s rule by the fall of Robert of
Bellême my immediate story ends. Of the memorable time which followed,
a time memorable for many things, but memorable above all as being,
within the English kingdom, a perfect blank in military history, I
have sketched the outline in another volume. I there traced out the
leading features of the reign and discussed its leading results. I
there traced the later stages of the career of Anselm, his dispute
with Henry, his second departure and second restoration, the final
compromise which to the wisdom of Henry and the single-mindedness of
Anselm was not impossible. I traced out also the various matters in
dispute between Henry and Robert till the time when, as men fondly
deemed, England, after forty years, paid back the day of Senlac on the
day of Tinchebrai. I could have been well pleased to carry on in
detail to their end two stories of which I have had to tell so large a
part. But my immediate subject ends when King Henry is made fast on
his throne by the overthrow of the rebel Earl of Shrewsbury. Earlier
than that point the tale could not stop. Deep as is the importance of
the reign of William Rufus in so many ways, there is a certain way of
looking at things in which the reign of William Rufus is a kind of
episode. Or rather it is an attempt at a certain object which, when
tried in the person of Rufus, failed, and which had to be again tried,
with better luck, in the person of Henry. The problem was to reconcile
the English nation to the Norman Conquest, to nationalize, so to
speak, the Conquest and the dynasty which the Conquest had brought in.
The means thereto was to find a prince of the foreign stock who should
reign as an English king, with the good will of the English people, in
the interest of the English people. William Rufus might have held that
place, if he had been morally capable of it. His crown was won for him
from Norman rebels by the valour and loyalty of Englishmen, when for
the last time they met Normans on their own soil as enemies. But Rufus
forsook his trust; he belied his promises; if he did not strictly
become an oppressor of Englishmen as Englishmen, it was only because
he became the common oppressor and enemy of mankind. Thirteen years
later the same drama was acted over again. Henry, who reigned by a
more direct choice of the English people than William, owed his crown
also to the loyalty of Englishmen whose valour against Norman enemies
it was found needless to test in the open field. This time the problem
was solved; if Henry did not bring back the days of Ælfred or even the
days of Cnut, he at least brought in a very different state of things
from what men had seen in the days of his brother. After the election
at Winchester, the conference at Alton, the fight at Tinchebrai,
England could no longer be called a conquered land. The work of the
Norman Conquest was from one side confirmed for ever, from another
side it was undone for ever. The last act of the struggle, an
afterpiece more stirring than the main drama, was when Robert of
Bellême came forth, shorn of his power to do evil, to surrender the
stronghold of Shrewsbury to his sovereign. The surrender of Chester to
the elder William marked that the first struggle was over, and that
the Norman was to rule in England. The surrender of Shrewsbury to his
youngest son marked that the second struggle was over, the struggle
which ruled that, though the Norman was to reign in England, he was to
reign only by putting on the character of an English king, called to
his throne by the voice of Englishmen, and guarded there by their
loyalty against the plots and assaults of Norman rebels.
APPENDIX.
NOTE A. Vol. i. p. 11.
THE ACCESSION OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
The remarkable thing about the accession of William Rufus is that it
is the one case in those days in which a king succeeds without any
trace of regular election, whether by the nation at large or by any
smaller body. The ecclesiastical election which formed part of the
rite of coronation was doubtless not forgotten; but there is no sign
of any earlier election by the Witan, or by any gathering which could
call itself by their name. Lanfranc appears as the sole actor. One
account, the Life of Lanfranc attached to the Winchester Chronicle,
speaks of the archbishop in so many words as the one elector; “Mortuo
rege Willielmo trans mare, filium ejus Willielmum, sicut pater
constituit, _Lanfrancus regem elegit_, et in ecclesia beati Petri, in
occidentali parte Lundoniæ sita, sacravit et coronavit.” The words of
Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 13) are almost equally strong;
“Defuncto itaque rege Willielmo, successit ei in regnum,
Willielmus filius ejus, qui cum regni fastigia fratri suo
Roberto præripere gestiret, et Lanfrancum, _sine cujus
accensu in regnum ascisci nullatenus poterat_, sibi in hoc
ad expletionem desiderii sui _non omnino consentaneum_
inveniret, verens ne dilatio suæ consecrationis inferret ei
dispendium cupiti honoris,” &c.
William of Malmesbury too (iv. 305) goes so far as to say;
“A patre, ultima valetudine decumbente, in successorem
adoptatus, antequam ille extremum efflasset, ad occupandum
regnum contendit, moxque _volentibus animis provincialium
exceptus_, et claves thesaurorum nactus est, quibus fretus
totam Angliam animo subjecit suo. Accessit etiam favori
ejus, _maximum rerum momentum_, archiepiscopus Lanfrancus,
eo quod eum nutrierat et militem fecerat, quo auctore et
annitente,… coronatus,” &c.
Neither of these writers follows any strict order of time. The willing
assent of the people may mean either their passive assent at his
coming, or their more formal assent on the coronation-day. The general
good-will shown towards the new king is set forth also by Robert of
Torigny (Cont. Will. Gem. viii. 2; “susceptus est ab Anglis et
Francis”), by the author of the Brevis Relatio (11) in the same words,
and by the Battle writer (39); “omnium favore, ut decebat, magnifice
exceptus.”
If then we accept Eadmer’s words in their fulness, the only objection
made at the time to Rufus’ accession came from his special elector,
Lanfranc himself. This incidental notice, implying that Lanfranc did
hesitate, is very remarkable. We are not told the ground of his
objections. But of whatever kind they were, they were overcome by the
new King’s special oath, in which the formal words of the coronation
bond seem to be mixed up with oaths and promises of a more general
kind;
“Cœpit, tam per se tam per omnes suos quos poterat, fide
sacramentoque Lanfranco promittere justitiam, æquitatem, et
misericordiam, se per totum regnum, si rex foret, in omni
negotio servaturum; pacem, libertatem, securitatem,
ecclesiarum contra omnes defensurum, necne præceptis atque
consiliis ejus per omnia et in omnibus obtemperaturum.”
We may compare the special promise of Æthelred on his restoration (N.
C. vol. i. p. 368) to follow the advice of his Witan in all things.
* * * * *
The first signs of any thought of usurpation or the like in the
accession of Rufus may be dimly seen in the Hyde writer (298); where
however stronger phrases are, oddly enough, applied to Robert;
“Defuncto rege Willelmo et sepulturæ tradito, Willelmus
filius ejus in Angliam transvectus regnum _occupat, regemque
se vocari omnibus imperat_; Robertus quoque frater ejus
regressus a Gallia, Normanniam _invadit_, et nullo
resistente ditioni suæ supponit.”
By the time of William of Newburgh men had found out the hereditary
right of the eldest son. He says, first (i. 2), that Robert succeeded
in Normandy, William in England, “ordine quidem præpostero, sed per
ultimam patris, ut dictum est, voluntatem commutato.” Directly after,
the rebels of next year favour Robert, “tanquam justo hæredi et
perperam exhæredato” (cf. Suger, Duchèsne, iv. 283, “Exhæredato majore
natu Roberto fratre suo”). And presently, we hear of “frater senior
Robertus, cui nimirum ordine naturali regni successio competebat.” All
this is odd, when we remember how well in the next chapter (see vol.
i. p. 11) the same author understands the position of Henry, as the
only true Ætheling, son of a king. Oddly enough, Thomas Wykes (Ann.
Mon. iv. 11) gives this last position to Rufus, “quem primum genuit
[Willelmus le Bastard, rex Angliæ] postquam regnum adquisivit.”
Matthew Paris (Hist. Angl. i. 34, 35), as usual, gives the story a
colouring of his own, which may be compared with his version of the
accession of Henry the First (see N. C. vol. v. p. 845). He has told
us that the Conqueror, in bequeathing his kingdom to his second son,
gave him special advice as to its rule;
“Willelmo Rufo filio suo Angliam, scilicet conquestum suum,
assignavit; supplicans ut Anglos, quos crudeliter et veluti
ingratus male tractaverat, mitius confoveret.”
He crosses to England, “utilius reputans regnum sibi firmare vivorum
quam mortui cujuscumque exsequiis interesse.” Then we read;
“Willelmus, cognomento Rufus, filius regis Willelmi primi,
veniens in Angliam, consilio et auxilio Lamfranci
Cantuariensis archiepiscopi, qui ipsum a primis annis
nutriverat et militem fecerat, sine moroso dispendio Angliam
sibi conciliatam inclinavit, nec tamen totam. Sed ut
negotium regis optatum cito sortiretur effectum, ipsum die
sanctorum Cosmæ et Damiani, _etsi cum sollemnitate
mutilata_, coronavit, veraciter promittentem ut Angliam cum
modestia gubernaret, leges sancti regis Edwardi servaturus,
et Anglos præcipue tractaret reverenter.”
These remarkable words must be taken in connexion with what
immediately follows, which is in truth a very rose-coloured version of
the rebellion of 1088, which is made immediately to follow, or rather
to accompany, the coronation. For the next words are;
“Verumtamen quamplures Anglorum nobiles, formidantes et
augurantes ipsum velle patrissare, noluerunt ei obsecundare,
sed elegerunt potius Roberto, militi strenuissimo, militare,
et tamquam primogenito ipsi in regem creato famulari, quam
fallacibus promissis Rufi fidem adhibere. Sed Lamfrancus hæc
sedavit, bona promittens.”
Still the new King sees that many of the nobles of the kingdom are
plotting against him. By the advice of Lanfranc therefore he gathers a
secret assembly of English nobles (“Anglorum nobiliores et fortiores
invitando secretius convocavit”); he promises with an oath on the
Gospels to give them good laws and all the old free customs
(“pristinae libertatis consuetudines”). He then wins over Roger of
Montgomery, according to the account in vol. i. p. 61. Then, again by
Lanfranc’s advice, he divides and weakens the English by his promises
(“omnes Anglos, quos insuperabiles, si fuissent inseparabiles,
cognoverat, talibus sermocinationibus et promissis dissipatos et
enervatos sibi conciliavit”). A few only resist; against those he
wages a successful war at the head of the nation generally (“eorum
conamina, universitatis adjutus viribus, quantocius annullavit”), and
confiscates their goods.
It is clear that Matthew Paris had the elder writers before him, but
that he did not fully understand their language with regard to the
appeal of Rufus to the English. We must remember the time when he
wrote. In his day the immediate consequences of the Conquest had
passed away; the distinction of “Angli” and “Franci,” so living in the
days of Rufus, was forgotten. But men had not yet begun to speculate
about “Normans and Saxons,” as Robert of Gloucester did somewhat
later. Moreover Matthew was used to a state of things in which a king
who, if not foreign by birth, was foreign in feeling, had to be
withstood by an united English nation, indifferent as to the remoter
pedigree of each man. He therefore told the story of the reign of
Rufus as if it had been the story of the reign of Henry the Third. All
are “Angli;” the distinction drawn by the Chronicler between the
“French” who rebelled against the King and the “English” to whom he
appealed, is lost. The English people whom he called to his help
against the Norman nobles become English nobles whom he cunningly wins
over in secret. Matthew understands that England was a conquered
country with a foreign king; he does not understand the relations of
foreigners and natives in the island, and that the foreign king
appealed to the natives against his own countrymen. The passage is
most valuable, not as telling us anything about the reign of William
Rufus, but as showing us how the reign of William Rufus looked when
read by the present experience of the reign of Henry the Third.
At the same time Matthew Paris must have had something special in his
eye, when he spoke of the coronation rites of William Rufus as being
in some way imperfect. Was there any tradition that, as John did not
communicate at his coronation, so neither did William? Men may have
argued from one tyrant to another.
On the whole we may say that William Rufus, like Servius Tullius (Cic.
de Rep. ii. 21), “regnare coepit, non jussu, sed voluntate atque
concessu civium.”
* * * * *
Besides these accounts, given by contemporary or nearly contemporary
writers, or founded on their statements, there is another version of
William’s accession, which I take to be wholly mythical. This is
preserved in the local history of Colchester abbey (Monasticon, iv.
607). In this the accession of Rufus is said to have been almost
wholly brought about by Eudo the _dapifer_, the son of Hubert of Rye.
It seems to be a continuation of another legend (see N. C. vol. iii.
p. 683), in which Hubert is made the chief actor in the bequest of the
crown which Eadward is said to have made in favour of the elder
William. It is in short a family legend, devised in honour of the
house of Rye. The same part is played in two successive generations;
the father secures the crown for the elder William, the son for the
younger. First of all, we are told of the way in which Eudo gained his
office of _dapifer_, an office which the witness of Domesday shows
that he really held. The story is almost too silly to tell; but it
runs thus. William Fitz-Osbern, before he set out to seek for crowns
in Flanders, held the post of “major domus regiæ.” In that character
he was setting a dish of crane’s flesh before William, and, as it was
ill-cooked (“carnem gruis semicrudæ adeo ut sanguis exprimeretur”),
the King aimed a blow at him. Eudo, as though he had been Lilla saving
Eadwine from the poisoned dagger of Eomer, thrust himself forward and
received the blow which was meant for the Earl of Hereford. William
Fitz-Osbern accordingly resigns his office, asking that Eudo may
succeed him in it. We hear no more till William’s death, when Eudo
appears as exhorting William Rufus to hasten and take possession of
the English crown (“Eudo, arrepta occasione ex paterna concessione,
Willelmum juniorem aggreditur, et ut negotio insistat hortatur”). They
cross over together, and are made to land at _Worcester_――_Portchester_
must be meant, through some confusion of _p_ and ƿ. Thence they go to
Winchester, and get the keys of the treasure-house by favour of its
keeper, William of Pont de l’Arche, a person whom I cannot find in
Domesday (“In Angliam transvecti, appliciti _Worcestriæ_ comparato
sibi favore Willielmi de Ponte-arce, claves thesauri Wintoniæ
suscipiunt quarum idem Willielmus custos erat”). Not only the coming
of the younger William, but the death of the elder, is carefully kept
secret, while Eudo goes to Dover, Pevensey, Hastings, and the other
fortresses on the coast. Pretending orders from the King, he binds
their garrisons by oaths to give up the keys to no one except by his
orders (“fide et sacramento custodes obligat nemini nisi suo arbitrio
claves munitionis tradituros … prætendens regem in Normannia moras
facturum, et velle de omnibus munitionibus Angliæ securitatem habere,
per se scilicet qui senescallus erat”). He then comes back to
Winchester; the death of the King is announced, and, while the peers
of the realm are in Normandy debating about the succession to the
crown, William Rufus is, through the diligence of Eudo, elected and
crowned (“acceleratoque negotio, Wintoniam redit; et tunc demum regem
obiisse propalat. Ita dum cæteri proceres de regni successione
tractant in Normannia, interim studio et opera Eudonis, Willielmus
junior in regem eligitur, consecratur, confirmatur, in Anglia”). The
story goes on to say that the people of Colchester petitioned the new
King that they might be put under the care of Eudo. To this William
gladly agreed, and Eudo ruled the town with great justice and mercy,
relieving the inhabitants from their heavy burthens, seemingly by the
process of taking to himself a large amount of confiscated land and
paying the taxes laid upon the town out of it (“causas cœpit
inquirere, sublevare gravatos, comprimere elatos, et in suis
primordiis omnibus complacere. Terras damnatorum, exlegatorum, et pro
culpis eliminatorum, dum nemo coleret, exigebantur tamen plenaliter
fiscalia, et hac de causa populus valde gravabatur. Has ergo terras
Eudo sibi vindicavit, ut pro his fisco satisfaceret et populum eatenus
alleviaret”).
The share taken by Eudo in the accession of William seems to be pure
fiction. His good deeds at Colchester are perfectly possible; but the
latter part of the story seems to be a confusion or perversion of an
entry in Domesday (ii. 106), which rather reads as if Eudo had become
possessor, and that in the time of the elder William, of the common
land of the burgesses (“Eudo dapifer v. denarios et xl. acras terræ
quas tenebant burgenses tempore R. E. et reddebant omnem consuetudinem
burgensium. Modo vero non reddunt consuetudinem nisi de suis
capitibus”). This looks as if the burgesses had hitherto paid the
royal dues out of their corporate estate, but that, when that estate
passed to Eudo, a poll-tax had to be levied to defray them.
NOTE B. Vol. i. p. 24.
THE BEGINNING OF THE REBELLION OF 1088.
Of the great revolt of the Normans in England against William Rufus we
have three accounts in considerable detail, in the Chronicle, in
Florence, and in Orderic. The Chronicle and Florence do not follow
exactly the same arrangement, but I do not see any contradiction
between them. Florence simply arranges his narrative in such a way as
to give special prominence to his own city and his own bishop. But
Orderic, from whom we get a most vivid, and seemingly quite
trustworthy, account of certain parts of the campaign, seems to have
misconceived the order of events in the early part of the story,
especially with regard to the time of Bishop Odo’s coming to England.
According to him, Odo did not come to England till after Christmas. He
then comes, along with Eustace of Boulogne and Robert of Bellême, as
the agent of a plot already devised in concert with Duke Robert for
the death or deposition of his brother. The others join them, and the
rebellion begins.
In the other version, that of the Chronicle and Florence, illustrated
in various points of detail by William of Malmesbury, Henry of
Huntingdon, and other writers, Odo comes to England much sooner, in
time for the Christmas assembly. He brings no treasonable intentions
with him; he takes to plotting only when he finds that his power in
England is less than he had hoped that it would be. Eustace and Robert
of Bellême do not come to England till a later stage, when the
rebellion has fully broken out, and when Odo is holding Rochester
against the King. They are then sent by Duke Robert, who is
represented (see p. 56) as hearing for the first time of the revolt in
his favour after Rochester was seized by Odo.
Orderic begins his story (665 D) with an account of seditious meetings
held by the nobles of Normandy and England, and of speeches made at
them. It is not said where they were spoken or by whom, but the
context would seem to imply that they were spoken by Odo in Normandy.
For immediately after the speech follow the words (666 C);
“Hoc itaque consilium Odo præsul Baiocensis et Eustachius
comes Boloniensis atque Robertus Belesmensis aliique plures
communiter decreverunt, decretumque suum Roberto duci
detexerunt.”
Then the consent of Robert is given, as in p. 56, and the three
ringleaders cross to England, and begin the revolt;
“Igitur post natale Domini prædicti proceres in Angliam
transfretaverunt, et castella sua plurimo apparatu
muniverunt, multamque partem patriæ contra regem infra breve
tempus commoverunt.”
I have ventured (in p. 25) to work the substance of the speech into
the text, as it contains arguments which suit the circumstances of the
case, and which are specially suited to speakers in Normandy. But the
speech cannot really have been spoken by Odo in Normandy. For it is
impossible to resist the evidence which brings Odo over to England
before the Christmas Assembly, and which makes his enmity to the King
arise out of things which happened after he came to England. We have,
first, the direct statement (see p. 19) of Henry of Huntingdon that
Odo was present at the Christmas Gemót. And this statement is the more
valuable, because it is not brought in as part of the story of Odo; it
reads rather as if it came from some official source, perhaps from a
list of signatures to some act of the Assembly. But the words of
William of Malmesbury (iv. 306) come almost to the same thing;
“Cum ille, solutus a vinculis, Robertum nepotem in comitatu
Normanniæ confirmasset, Angliam venit, recepitque a rege
comitatum Cantiæ.”
The Midwinter Gemót was the obvious time for such a grant, and Odo’s
restoration to his earldom is asserted or implied everywhere. Thus in
the Chronicle we read a little later how “Odo … ferde into Cent to his
eorldome,” and Florence speaks of him as “Odo episcopus Baiocensis,
qui et erat comes Cantwariensis.” Orderic himself (666 C) says, “Odo,
ut supra dictum est, palatinus Cantiæ consul erat, et plures sub se
comites virosque potentes habebat,” seemingly without seeing that his
version hardly gives any opportunity for the restoration of the
earldom. Henry of Huntingdon (214 Arnold), almost alone, speaks of him
as “princeps et moderator Angliæ,” without reference to his special
office of earl. William of Malmesbury goes on (see p. 23) to give the
reason for Odo’s discontent, the greater authority of the Bishop of
Durham. The Chronicle and Florence (see pp. 23, 24) mention only the
great authority enjoyed by Bishop William, and the revolt of Odo,
without mentioning Odo’s motive. That is, they simply state the facts,
while William of Malmesbury supplies the connecting link. If we accept
Orderic’s version that Odo did not come to England till after
Christmas, we have hardly time for the events as they are stated in
our other authorities. For we have to find time for Odo’s
re-establishment in his earldom, for his hopes and for his
disappointment, all leading up to the seditious gatherings during
Lent. And in some parts of the kingdom, as we shall see in the next
Note, these gatherings took the form of an open outbreak somewhat
earlier than we should have been led to think from the account in the
Chronicle.
Now there can be no doubt as to the truth of the version in which the
Chronicle, Florence, and William of Malmesbury substantially agree.
All that Orderic has done has been to place the voyage of Odo to
England at a wrong time, and it is easy to see how the mistake arose.
He makes Odo, Eustace, and Robert of Bellême cross together soon after
Christmas. Now it is quite clear that Eustace and Robert did not come
to England till after the rebellion had fully broken out, when Odo was
holding Rochester against the King. The Chronicle simply says (see p.
57) that they were at Rochester with Odo. Florence (see p. 56) tells
us more fully how they came to be there, namely, because they had been
sent by Robert in answer to Odo’s request. Nothing was more easy than
for Orderic to mistake this for a crossing in company with Odo. In his
version, Odo, Eustace, and Robert, all cross with a commission from
Duke Robert. In the true version Odo crosses long before to receive
his English earldom, but with no purpose of disturbing the new
settlement of England. He becomes discontented on English ground; he
rebels, he asks help of Duke Robert, and Eustace and Robert of Bellême
come in answer to his asking.
The Hyde writer, as usual, has a version of his own, which however, as
far as Odo is concerned, follows that of Orderic. As soon as Robert
has taken possession of his duchy, he calls a council, and sends over
an army under his two uncles Bishop Odo and Count Robert, to take away
the English crown from his brother. They cross the sea, winning a
naval victory over a pirate fleet; they seize Rochester and Pevensey,
and begin the rebellion seemingly before the end of the year 1087.
This account (298) runs thus;
“Robertus … convocatis principibus et consilio habito, duos
avunculos suos, comitem Moritanii et episcopum Baiocensem,
cum valida manu transmittit, omnimodis decertatis _Waltero_
[sic] fratri regnum auferre sibique conferre. Qui vela
ventis committentes, et cum piratis obsistentibus in mari
viriliter decertantes, Angliam veniunt, urbemque Roffensem
et castellum Pevenesellum intrantes, rebellare contendunt.”
We easily see from the later history of the rebellion how this writer
has taken some of its most striking incidents and, as it were, crushed
them up together. As Orderic confounds the crossing of Odo with the
crossing of Eustace and Robert of Bellême, so the Hyde writer seems to
confound both with the later expedition from Normandy (see p. 74),
which did not occupy Pevensey after a victory, but was driven back by
the King’s English troops in an attempt to land at Pevensey.
The account given incidentally by Robert of Torigny (Cont. Will. Gem.
viii. 3) has points in common with this version, though it may be more
easily reconciled with the true story. He records the peace between
William and Robert in 1091, and adds;
“Licet regnum Angliæ ipse Robertus facillime paullo ante
potuisset habere, nisi minus cautus esset. Siquidem
Eustachius comes Boloniæ, et episcopus Baiocensis et comes
Moritolii patrui ejus, et alii principes Normanniæ, cum
magno apparatu militum mare transeuntes, Rovecestriam et
alia nonnulla castella in comitatu Cantuariensi occupantes
et tenentes ad opus illius, dum ipsum Robertum ducem
exspectant, qui tunc temporis ultra quam virum deceat in
Normannia deliciabatur, obsessi diu a rege Willelmo, dum
ille cujus causa tantum discrimen subierant, non subvenit,
cum dedecore ipsas quas tenebant munitiones exeuntes ad
propria sunt reversi.”
As for the object of the rebellion, the transfer of the English crown
from William to Robert, we may hear William of Newburgh, who, though
he believes (see above, p. 461) in Robert’s right of succession, yet
says that he “in minori administratione, scilicet ducatus Normannici,
claruit quod regno amplissimo administrando nunquam idoneus fuerit.”
* * * * *
What could M. de Rémusat (Anselme, 113) have meant when he said that
the revolt of the Norman nobles “força le roi à se rapprocher de ses
sujets _bretons_”? Then “il fit appel à la noblesse indigène.” This
last may come from Matthew Paris; but the Welsh, the nearest approach
to Bretons, joined the rebels.
NOTE C. Vol. i. pp. 28, 89.
THE SHARE OF BISHOP WILLIAM OF SAINT-CALAIS IN THE REBELLION OF 1088.
There are few more glaring contradictions to be found in history than
the picture of Bishop William of Saint-Calais as drawn by the southern
writers, and his picture as drawn by his own hand or that of some
local admirer in the Durham document printed in the Monasticon, i.
245, and in the old edition of Simeon. No one would know the meek
confessor of this last version in the traitor whom the Chronicler does
not shrink from likening to the blackest of all traitors. Yet, if the
narratives are carefully compared, it may seem that, with all the
difference in colouring, there is much less contradiction in matter of
fact than we are led to think at first sight. The opposition is simply
of that kind which follows when each side, without asserting any
direct falsehood, leaves out all that tells on behalf of the other
side. We read the Bishop’s story; we see no reason to suspect him of
stating anything which did not happen; under the circumstances indeed
he could hardly venture to state anything which did not happen. But we
see that the statement, though doubtless true as a mere record of
facts, is dressed up in a most ingenious way, so as to put everything
in the best light for his side, while everything that was to be said
on the other side is carefully left out. But, on the other hand, while
the Chronicler, Florence, and William of Malmesbury, clearly leave out
a great deal, there is no reason to think that they leave it out from
any partisan wish to pervert the truth. They believed, and doubtless
on good grounds, that the Bishop of Durham was a chief actor in the
rebellion, and they said so. But there was nothing to lead them to
dwell on his story at any special length. Their attention was chiefly
drawn to other parts of the events of that stirring year. Orderic
indeed, whose account of some parts of the story is so minute, does
not speak of Durham or its bishop at all.
Some of the passages from the Chronicle have been quoted in the text.
The Bishop of Durham is there mentioned three times. First comes the
record of his influence with the King, and his treason against him;
“On þisum ræde wæs ærest Oda bisceop and Gosfrið bisceop and
Willelm bisceop on Dunholme. Swa wæll dyde se cyng be þam
bisceop þæt eall Englaland færde æfter his ræde, and swa swa
he wolde, and he þohte to donne be him eall swa Iudas
Scarioð dide be ure Drihtene.”
Then, after the account of the deliverance of Worcester, Bishop
William is named at the head of the ravagers in different parts of the
country; “Se bisceop of Dunholme dyde to hearme þæt he mihte ofer eall
be norðan.”
Lastly, at the end of the whole story, when Odo has come out of
Rochester and gone beyond sea, we read;
“Se cyng siððan sende here to Dunholme, and let besittan
þone castel, and se bisceop griðode and ageaf þone castel,
and forlet his biscoprice and ferde to Normandige.”
Florence, writing seemingly with the Chronicle before him, changes the
story so far as to make, not Bishop William but Count Robert (see p.
33), the chief accomplice of Odo. He then gives the list of the other
confederates, at the end of which, after Robert of Mowbray, Bishop
Geoffrey, and Earl Roger, we read, “quod erat pejus, Willelmus
episcopus Dunholmensis,” followed by the passage (see p. 23) in which
he describes the Bishop’s influence with the King. After this, he says
nothing more about him till he records his death in 1096.
Henry of Huntingdon (215), also writing with the Chronicle before him,
leaves out the first passage of the three and translates the two
others. The third stands in his text;
“Mittens rex exercitum Dunhelmiæ obsedit urbem, donec
reddita est ei. Episcopus vero multique proditorum propulsi
sunt in exilium.”
William of Malmesbury, in the Gesta Regum (iv. 306), first mentions
the influence of Bishop William and the envy which Odo felt at it.
Then, in reckoning up the Conspirators, he adds;
“Quinetiam Willelmus Dunelmensis episcopus, quem rex a
secretis habuerat, in eorum perfidiam concesserat; quod
graviter regem tulisse ferunt, quia, cum amissæ charitatis
dispendio, remotarum provinciarum frustrabatur compendio.”
At the end of the story, after Odo is gone, he adds;
“Dunelmensis episcopus ultro mare transivit, quem rex,
verecundia præteritæ amicitiæ, indemnem passus est effugere.
Cæteri omnes in fidem recepti.”
In the Gesta Pontificum (272) he introduces Bishop William as “potens
in sæculo,” and “oris volubilitate promptus, maxime sub Willelmo rege
juniore.” This almost sounds as if he had read the debates at the
bishop’s own trial, but it is more likely that he had his dealings
with Anselm before his mind. He then goes on;
“Quapropter, et amicorum cohorti additus, et Angliæ
prælatus, non permansit in gratia. Quippe nullis principis
dictis vel factis contra eum extantibus, ab amicitia
descivit, in perfidia Odonis Baiocensis et ceterorum se
immiscens. Quapropter, victis partibus, ab Anglia fugatus,
post duos annos indulgentia principis rediit.”
Simeon of Durham, in his History (1088, at the end of the year), says
simply, “Etiam Dunholmensis episcopus Willielmus vii. anno sui
episcopatus, et multi alii de Anglia exierunt.” This omission is the
more to be noticed, as he clearly had Florence and the Chronicle
before him. In the History of the Church of Durham (iv. 8) we get a
fuller account;
“Hujus [Willielmi regis], sicut et antea patris, amicitiis
antistes præfatus adjunctus, familiariter ei ad tempus
adhærebat: unde etiam Alvertoniam cum suis appenditiis rex
illi donavit. Post non multum vero temporis, _per aliorum
machinamenta orta inter ipsos dissensione_, episcopus ab
episcopatu pulsus ultra mare secessit, quem comes
Normannorum, non ut exulem, sed ut patrem suscipiens, in
magno honore per tres annos quibus ibi moratus est, habuit.”
In these accounts almost the only direct contradiction as to matters
of fact comes in at the end, about the surrender of the castle of
Durham to the King. The Chronicle certainly seems to imply a siege;
and, reading the Chronicle only without reference to anything else, we
should have thought that the Bishop himself was besieged there.
William of Malmesbury, on the other hand, makes the story wind up
between the King and the Bishop in a wonderfully friendly way. But on
this point we can have little doubt in accepting the version which I
have followed in the text (see p. 114), namely that the Bishop was not
at Durham, that the castle was surrendered after a good deal of
haggling, and perhaps a little plundering, on both sides, but with
nothing that could be called a regular siege. In short, the Chronicler
makes a little too much of the fact that the castle was surrendered to
a military force. William of Malmesbury, on the other hand, makes a
little too much of the fact that the Bishop was not, strictly
speaking, driven from England by a judicial sentence, but that he
rather went by virtue of a proposal of his own making. The only other
question of strict fact which could be raised is as to the ravages
which the Chronicler says were wrought by the Bishop. The picture in
William of Malmesbury of the Bishop turning against the King without
any provocation on his part, and the picture in the History of the
Church of Durham of the men who stirred up strife between the King and
the Bishop, are merely the necessary colouring from opposite sides.
The only important point on this head is that the disposition to make
the best of the Bishop’s conduct seems to have been general at Durham,
and that it is not confined to the narrative which must have been
written either by himself or under his immediate inspiration. But we
must remember that the general career of William of Saint-Calais at
Durham, his bringing in of monks and his splendid works of building,
were sure to make him pass into the list of local worthies, so that
local writers, both at the time and afterwards, would be led to make
the best of his conduct in any matter.
Of the Bishop’s own story, or at least the story of some local writer
who told it as the Bishop wished it to be told, I have given the
substance in the text. And, as its examination does not involve any
very great amount of comparison of one statement with another, I have
given the most important illustrative passages in the form of notes to
the text. I have said that, after all, there is little real
contradiction in direct statements of fact between this version and
that of the southern writers. We find the kind of differences which
are sure to be found when we have on one side a general narrative,
written without any special purpose, a narrative doubtless essentially
true, but putting in or leaving out details almost at random, while we
have on the other side a very minute and ingenious apology, enlarging
on all points on which it was convenient to enlarge, and leaving out
those which might tell the other way. But the truth is that the
Bishop’s own statement of his services done to the King (see pp. 29,
111), and the charge which was formally brought against him by the
King (see p. 98), do not really contradict one another. They may be
read as a consecutive story, according to which the Bishop continued
to be the King’s adviser, and to do him good outward service, after he
had made up his mind to join the rebels and while he was waiting for
an opportunity of so doing. It is most likely this special
double-dealing which led the Chronicler to his exceptionally strong
language with regard to the Bishop’s treason. The only point where
there seems any kind of contradiction in fact is with regard to the
dates. From the Chronicler and the other writers on the King’s side we
should have thought that there was no open revolt anywhere till after
Easter, whereas it is plain from the Durham story that a great deal
must have happened in south-eastern England much earlier in the year.
On this point the Durham version, a version founded on documents and
minutely attentive to dates, is of course to be preferred. With the
other writers the Bishop’s affairs are secondary throughout, and the
affairs of Kent and Sussex are secondary in the first stage of the
story. Till they come to the exciting scenes of the sieges of
Tunbridge and Pevensey, the attention of the Chronicler, Florence, and
the others, is mainly given to the affairs of the region stretching
from Ilchester to Worcester. We may infer from them that the
occupation of Bristol and the march against Worcester did not happen
till after Easter, while we must infer from the Durham account that
the movements in London, Kent, and Sussex, had happened not later than
the beginning of March. There is in short no real contradiction; there
is only that kind of difference which there is sure to be found when
one writer gives a general view of a large subject with a general
object, while another gives a minute view of one part of the subject
with a special object.
We can have little doubt in accepting the fact of the Bishop’s
treason, not only on the authority of the Chronicler and the other
writers who follow him, but on the strength of the proceedings in the
King’s court. In the Bishop’s own story a definite charge is brought
against him, and he never really answers it. He goes off into a cloud
of irrelevant questions, and into a statement of services done to the
King, a statement which most likely is perfectly true, but which is no
answer to the indictment. The great puzzle of the whole story, namely
why Bishop William should have turned against the King at all, is not
made any clearer on either side.
* * * * *
It is certainly strange that this whole story of Bishop William, so
minutely told as it is and illustrating so many points in our law and
history, should have drawn to itself so little attention as it has
done. Thierry takes no notice of it. It would indeed be hard to get
anything about “Saxons and Normans” out of it. For, though the
“indocta multitudo” may fairly pass for “Saxons,” yet these same
“Saxons,” if hostile to the Cenomannian Bishop, are loyally devoted to
the Norman King. Lappenberg also passes by the story altogether. Sir
Francis Palgrave (Normandy and England, iv. 31, 46) makes some
references to it which are provokingly short, as it is the kind of
story to which he could have done full justice. Dr. Stubbs (Const.
Hist. i. 440) has given a summary of the chief points in debate. But I
believe that I may claim to be the first modern writer who has told
the tale at full length in a narrative history. There are very few
stories which bring the men and the institutions of the latter part of
the eleventh century before us in a more living way, while the conduct
of William of Saint-Calais at this stage must specially be borne in
mind when we come to estimate his later conduct in the controversy
with Anselm.
NOTE D. Vol. i. p. 47.
THE DELIVERANCE OF WORCESTER IN 1088.
The story of the deliverance of Worcester is one of those stories in
which we can trace the early stages of legendary growth. It is one of
the tales in which a miraculous element appears, but in which we can
hardly say that there is any distortion of fact. The story is told in
a certain way, and with a certain colouring, with which a modern
writer would not tell it. Effects are attributed to causes to which a
modern writer would not attribute them. But this is all. The mere
facts are perfectly credible. There is no reason to doubt that
Wulfstan exhorted the royal troops and excommunicated the rebels.
There is no reason to doubt that the rebels were utterly defeated by
the royal troops. And we may well believe that, in a certain sense,
the defeat of the rebels was largely owing to the exhortations and
excommunications of Wulfstan. The only legendary element in the story
is to treat a result as miraculous which, under the circumstances, was
thoroughly natural.
We have several accounts from contemporary or nearly contemporary
writers. First comes the Peterborough Chronicler. After the passage
quoted in p. 48, he goes on;
“Ðas þing geseonde se arwurða bisceop Wlfstan wearð swiðe
gedrefed on his mode, forðig him wæs betæht þe castel to
healdene. Ðeahhweðer his hiredmen ferdon ut mid feawe men of
þam castele, and þurh Godes mildheortnisse and þurh þæs
bisceopes geearnunga ofslogon and gelæhton fif hundred
manna, and þa oðre ealle aflymdon.”
Here is nothing miraculous, only a very natural tendency to ascribe
the deliverance to the prayers and merits of the Bishop. The version
of Simeon of Durham (1088) gives us the “yearning” of Wulfstan in the
more dramatic shape of a spoken prayer;
“Perrexerunt usque Wigornam, omnia ante se vastantes et igne
consumentes. Cogitaverunt etiam quod castrum et ecclesiam
vellent accipere, quod videlicet castrum tunc temporis
commendatum erat Wlstano venerabili episcopo. Quando
episcopus ista audivit, valde contristabatur, et cogitans
quid consilii inde haberet, vertit se ad Deum suum, et rogat
ut respiciat ecclesiam suam et populum suum ab hostibus
oppressum. Hæc eo meditante, familia ejus exiliit de castro,
et acceperunt et occiderunt ex eis quingentos viros, et
alios in fugam verterunt.”
In the version of Henry of Huntingdon (p. 215, Arnold) we again find
only the prayer; but it is told with a picturesque description of the
Bishop lying before the altar, while the loyal troops go forth, and,
by a somewhat bold figure, the discomfiture of the enemy is made to be
the work of Wulfstan himself. The number of the slain is also
increased tenfold;
“Principes Herefordscyre et Salopscyre prædantes
combusserunt cum Walensibus provinciam Wireceastre usque ad
portas urbis. Cum autem templum et castellum assilire
pararent, Wlstanus episcopus sanctus quendam amicum
familiarem summis in necessitatibus compellavit, Deum
videlicet excelsum. Cujus ope coram altari jacens in
oratione, paucis militibus emissis, quinque mille hostium
vel occidit vel cepit; ceteros vero mirabiliter fugavit.”
William of Malmesbury in the Gesta Regum (iv. 306) gives the prayer
the form of a blessing on the King’s troops;
“Rogerius de Monte Gomerico, exercitum suum a Scrobesbiria
cum Walensibus mittens, coloniam Wigorniensem prædabatur;
jamque Wigorniam infestus advenerat, cum regii milites qui
prætendebant, _freti benedictione Wulstani episcopi_, cui
custodia castelli commissa erat, pauci multos effugarunt,
pluribusque sauciis et cæsis, quosdam abduxerunt.”
Orderic (666 D) cuts the matter very short; but it is in his version
that we first hear of Wulfstan cursing the rebels, as well as blessing
the King’s troops. Having mentioned Osbern and Bernard (see pp. 33,
34), he merely adds; “In territorio Wigornensi rapinis et cædibus,
_prohibente et anathematizante viro Dei Wlfstano episcopo_, nequiter
insistebant.”
Here one might almost think that the anathema was of none effect. It
is quite otherwise in the version which William of Malmesbury gives in
the Gesta Pontificum (285)――in his special Life of Wulfstan he leaves
out the story altogether;
“Rogerius comes de Monte-gomerico, perfidiam contra
principem meditatus, cum ejusdem factionis complicibus arma
movebat infestus. Jamque, a Scrobbesberia usque Wigorniensem
coloniam omnibus vastatis, urbem ipsam appropinquabat; cum
regii milites, qui prætendebant, periculum exponunt
episcopo. Is, maledictionis fulmen jaculatus in perfidos qui
domino suo fidem non servarent, jubet milites properare, Dei
et ecclesiæ injurias ulturos. Mirum quis dixerit quod
subjiciam, sed auctoritati veracium narratorum cedendum?
Quidam enim adversariorum, regiis conspectis, timore inerti
perculsi, quidam etiam cæcati, victoriam plenam, et qualem
sperare nequibant, oppidanis cessere. Multi enim a paucis
fugati, pars cæsi, pars saucii abducti.”
We have here only the cursing without the blessing; the point is that
the curse is pronounced before the royal army sets out. The anathema
in this version has its full effect; the legendary element appears in
the story of the blindness of the enemy.
Lastly, we come to the account to which William most likely alludes
when he speaks of the “veraces narratores,” that is, to the minute
account given by Florence, which I have mainly followed in the text.
His local knowledge and special interest in the story led him to tell
it in much fuller detail than is found anywhere else. On the other
hand, he gives a greater prominence than is given by any one else to
the wonder-working effects of Wulfstan’s curse. This is only what was
natural; it was in his own city, and above all in his own monastery,
that the merits and miracles of the saint would be most fondly dwelled
on, and most firmly believed in. At Worcester, if anywhere, the tale
of the deliverance of Worcester was likely to grow. It is therefore in
the local writer from whom we get our most trustworthy details that we
also find the first approach to a really legendary element, though
that element seems to go no further than a slight change in the order
of events which brings out the saint’s powers more prominently. As we
read the other versions, above all the fuller one of William of
Malmesbury in the Gesta Pontificum, we should certainly infer that
whatever Wulfstan did in the way of praying, blessing, or cursing, was
done before the royal troops marched out of Worcester. In Florence the
blessing and the cursing stand apart. The Bishop goes into the castle
(see pp. 49, 50); the royal troops of all kinds make ready for battle,
and meet the Bishop on his way to the castle, offering to cross the
river and attack the enemy, if he gives them leave. He gives them
leave, and promises them success (see p. 50). They then cross the
bridge, and see the enemy afar spoiling the lands of the bishopric. On
hearing of this, Wulfstan is persuaded to speak his anathema, which at
once takes effect in the wonderful overthrow of the enemy.
“Res miranda, et Dei virtus et viri bonitas nimis in hoc
prædicanda; nam statim hostes, ut sparsi vagabantur per
agros, tanta membrorum percutiuntur debilitate, tanta
exteriori oculorum attenuantur cæcitate, ut vix arma
valerent ferre, nec socios agnoscere, nec eos discernere qui
eis oberant ex adversa parte. Illos fallebat cæcitatis
ignorantia, nostros confortabat Dei et episcopalis
benedictionis confidentia. Sic illi insensati nec sciebant
capere fugam, nec alicujus defensionis quærebant viam; sed
Dei nutu dati in reprobum sensum, facile cedebant manibus
inimicorum.”
Now this is a legend of the very simplest kind; or rather it is not
strictly a legend at all, but only a story on the way to become a
legend. Beyond a slight change in the order, there is no reason to
suspect that the facts of the case are at all misrepresented; they are
simply coloured in the way in which it was natural that the successful
party should colour them. There is in strictness no miraculous element
in the story; it has merely reached the stage at which the germs of a
miraculous element are beginning to show themselves. That Wulfstan
would encourage his people to fight in a good cause, that he would
pray for their success, we may feel certain. That his exhortation
might take the shape of a promise――perhaps only a conditional
promise――of victory is no more than was natural. And an anathema
pronounced against the rebels is as natural as the blessing pronounced
on the royal troops. We may be sure that men stirred up by such
exhortations and promises would really fight the better for having
heard them. And if the fact that Wulfstan had pronounced an anathema,
or even that he was likely to pronounce an anathema, anyhow came to
the knowledge of the rebels, it is hardly less certain that they would
fight the worse for hearing of it. The only thing in which there is
even the germ of miracle is the statement that the invaders were
smitten with lameness or blindness or something like it, at the very
moment when the Bishop pronounced his excommunication. Now, in all
stories of this kind, we must bear in mind that mysterious power of
φήμη [phêmê] (see vol. ii. p. 309), which I do not profess to explain,
but which certainly is a real thing. News certainly does sometimes go
at a wonderful pace; and the rebels might really hear the news of
Wulfstan’s excommunication so soon that it would be a very slight
exaggeration to say that it wrought an effect on them at the very
moment when it was uttered. A body of men who had already broken their
ranks and were scattered abroad for plunder hear that a sentence has
been pronounced against them by a man whose office and person were
held in reverence by all men, French and English――for the Britons I
cannot answer. At this news they would surely fall into greater
confusion still, and would become an easy prey to the better
disciplined troops who had the Bishop’s exhortations and promises
still ringing in their ears. To say that such men, confused and
puzzled, not knowing which way to turn, were struck with sudden
blindness and lameness would be little more than a poetical way of
describing what really happened. That all this was owing to the
prayers and merits of Wulfstan would of course be taken for granted;
that the victory was owing to his prayers and merits is taken for
granted in those versions of the story which do not bring in the least
approach to a miraculous element. One change only in the story itself
would seem, as I have already hinted, to come from a legendary source.
I have in my own text, while following the details of Florence, not
scrupled so far to depart from his order as to make the Bishop’s
anathema come before, instead of after, the march of the royal troops
from the city. That is, I have made the blessing and cursing take
place at the same time. This seems better to agree with the account in
the Gesta Pontificum. And, following, as it seems to me, the words of
the Chronicle (geseonde), I have ventured to make Wulfstan actually
see the havoc wrought by the invaders, while we should infer from
Florence, as from Simeon, that he only heard of it. It is of course
part of the wonder that his anathema should work its effect on men at
a distance. By making these two small changes――which the other
accounts seem to bear out――in the narrative of Florence, we get a
version in which there is really no legendary element at all, beyond
the pious or poetical way in which the discomfiture of the enemy is
spoken of. To say that the enemy were smitten with blindness and
lameness was an obvious figure of speech. To say that they were so
smitten by virtue of the Bishop’s anathema was, in the ideas of those
times, no figure of speech at all, but a natural inference from the
fact. To say that they were smitten, while still at a distance, at the
very moment when the Bishop pronounced the anathema was an
improvement, perhaps rather a devout inference, so very obvious that
it hardly marks a later stage in the story. The tale is as yet hardly
legendary; it is only on the point of becoming so. But it is the kind
of story which one would have expected to grow. Yet those later
writers who mention the matter seem simply to copy Florence, without
bringing in any further improvements of their own. It is strange that,
in the local Annals, as in the Life of Wulfstan, the deliverance of
Worcester is left out altogether.
* * * * *
The story of the deliverance of Worcester may be compared with the
story of the overthrow of Swegen at Gainsburgh. See N. C. vol. i. p.
366. But the Worcester story is in an earlier stage than the
Gainsburgh story. The main difference is that the hero of the one
story was dead, while the hero of the other story was alive. The
living Bishop of Worcester could not, even in a figure or in a legend,
be brought in as acting as the dead and canonized King of the
East-Angles could be made to act. The utmost that could be done in
this way was when Henry of Huntingdon speaks of the exploits of the
loyal army as the personal exploits of the Bishop whom he describes as
lying before the altar. Wulfstan, notwithstanding his youthful skill
in military exercises (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 470), could not be
brought in as smiting the enemy, lance in hand, as Saint Eadmund did
Swegen.
Another story of an army smitten with blindness is that of the Normans
at Northallerton in 1069 (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 241). And a scene not
unlike the scene before Worcester, though the circumstances are all
different, and the position of the bishop in the story is specially
different, is to be found in the rout of the Cenomannian army before
Sillé in 1073 (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 553).
* * * * *
Two small questions of fact arise out of the comparison of our
authorities. The expressions of the Chronicler (“forðig him was betæht
þe castel to healdene”), of Simeon, and of William of Malmesbury in
the Gesta Regum (“cui custodia castelli commissa erat”) would
certainly lead us to think that Wulfstan was actually commanding for
the King in the castle when the rebellion began. The detailed
narrative in Florence makes him go to the castle only at the special
request of the garrison when the enemy are on their march. There is
perhaps no formal contradiction. Wulfstan had before now held military
command (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 579), and he might have the command of
the castle without being actually within its walls. But the story in
Florence does not set Wulfstan before us as an actual military
commander, but rather as a person venerated of all men whose approval
of the course to be taken was sought by those who were in command. It
is safest to take the detailed story in Florence, and to take the
words of the Chronicler and of Simeon and William as the laxer way of
speaking used by men who did not aim at the same local precision. The
Bishop might in some sort be said to have the castle entrusted to him
when the garrison had asked him to come into it.
The other point is that William of Malmesbury in both his versions
seems to make Earl Roger present in person before Worcester. But the
language of the other accounts (see p. 47) seems carefully to imply
that, though he joined in the “unrede,” and though his men were
engaged in the revolt on the border, yet he had not himself any
personal share in that campaign. It is certain that, when we next hear
of him (see p. 58), it is in quite another character and in quite
another part of England.
* * * * *
A lately published record brings in a new actor in the defence of
Worcester. This is the “Annales de ecclesiis et regnis Anglorum” in
Liebermann’s “Ungedruckte Anglo-Normannische Geschichtsquellen,” 22.
This contains an account of the deliverance of Worcester, enlarged
from Florence, in which Abbot Guy of Pershore appears as Wulfstan’s
military lieutenant; “Intererat quidam consilio providus Wido
Persorcusis abbas. Hunc ultro se offerentem jus pontificale creans ad
tempus militem, statuit belli ducem totum in Deo et in orationibus
episcopi confidentem.” Guy was the successor of Thurstan (see N. C.
vol. iv. pp. 384, 697) who died in 1087. He was one of the abbots
deposed by Anselm in 1102. As Anselm himself had held a military
command, the deposition could hardly have been on the ground of Guy’s
exploits on this day.
NOTE E. Vol. i. p. 74.
THE ATTEMPTED LANDING OF THE NORMANS AT PEVENSEY.
It is with some hesitation that I have spoken as I have done in the
text, because it is hard to reconcile our authorities without
supposing that the siege of Pevensey was accompanied by a sea-force on
the part of the King. No ships have been spoken of before; none are
distinctly mentioned now; some of the descriptions might be understood
only of a land-force lining the shore; but operations on the water
seem implied in some of the accounts, and they may be understood in
any. There is no need to think of a great fleet; the sea-faring men of
the neighbourhood could surely do all that is recorded to have been
done.
The words of the Chronicler, of William of Malmesbury, and of Henry of
Huntingdon, might be understood merely of a land-force employed to
keep the enemy from landing; but their expressions may be quite as
naturally taken of operations on the water as well. The Chronicler is
emphatic on the exploit of the English;
“Ac þa Englisce men þe wærdedon þære sæ gelæhton of þam
mannon and slogon, and adrengton ma þonne ænig man wiste to
tellanne.”
So Henry of Huntingdon (215); “Anglici mare custodientes occiderunt et
submerserunt ex illis innumerabiles.”
The details come from William of Malmesbury, iv. 306;
“Inter has obsidionis moras, homines regis mare custodientes
quosdam quos comes Normanniæ in auxilium perfidorum miserat,
partim cæde, partim naufragio, oppressere: reliqui fugam
intendentes et suspendere carbasa conati, moxque vento
cessante destituti, ludibrio nostris, sibi exitio, fuere;
nam, ne vivi caperentur, e transtris se in mare
præcipitarunt.”
It is Simeon of Durham (1088) who more distinctly brings out the
features of a fight by sea;
“Rex Willelmus jam mare munierat suis piratis, qui venientes
in Angliam tot occiderunt et in mare merserunt, ut nullus
sit hominum qui sciat numerum pereuntium.”
This seems to come from the Chronicle; but “þa Englisce men þe
wærdedon þære sæ” are distinctly sent on board vessels of some kind by
the name of “piratæ.”
The “pirates” too and the sea-fight come out more distinctly in the
narrative of the Hyde writer quoted above (see p. 76). His tale must
really mean the attack on Pevensey with which we are now dealing,
though he has strangely confused times, places, and persons.
Roger of Wendover (ii. 34) gives the narrative of William of
Malmesbury a new turn, and specially puts the “perfidi” of his version
in an unlooked-for light;
“Inter has obsidionis moras, ministri regis mare
custodientes quosdam quos dux Robertus in auxilium
prædictorum miserat _schismaticorum_, partim cæde et partim
naufragio oppresserunt: quorum quidam fugam meditantes vento
destituuntur, et sic ludibrio Anglis sibique exitio
exstiterunt, nam, ne vivi caperentur, ultro sese fluctibus
submerserunt.”
Florence (see p. 74) gives an animated account of the operations by
land; but he wholly leaves out the coming of the Norman fleet.
NOTE F. Vol. i. p. 137.
THE BISHOPRIC OF SOMERSET AND THE ABBEY OF BATH.
William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 194) has got wrong in his
chronology when he makes John already bishop before the death of the
Conqueror, but unable to carry out his scheme for the removal of the
bishopric till the accession of Rufus. “Minoris gloriæ putans si in
_villa_ [should this be some form of _Wells_?] resideret inglorius,
transferre thronum in Bathoniam animo intendit. Sed cum id inaniter,
vivente Willelmo patre, cogitasset, tempore Willelmi filii effecit.”
Gisa certainly did not die till 1088, and John was consecrated in July
of that year. “Qui cum rex excellentissimus Willielmus senior, qui
xxij. annis regnaverat, fine laudabili vitam conclusisset, et
Willielmus junior filius ejus pro eo regnaret, consecratus est
episcopus in Julio.” (Historiola, 21.)
The transfer of the bishopric to Bath and the union of the abbey with
the bishopric are undoubted facts; as the writer of the Historiola
says, “Statim cathedram pontificis transtulit de Wella Bathoniæ.” The
charter of William Rufus making this grant is printed in the
Monasticon, ii. 266; the original is preserved in the chapter library
at Wells. It is in two handwritings, the former part containing the
first grant of 1088, while the second consists of a confirmation of
1090, or rather 1091. The substance of the grant is contained in the
words;
“Ego Willelmus Willelmi regis filius, Dei dispositione
monarches Britanniæ, pro meæ meique patris remedio animæ, et
regni prosperitate, et populi a Domino mihi collati salute,
concessi Johanni episcopo abbatiam sancti Petri Bathoniæ,
cum omnibus appendiciis, tam in villis quam in civitate et
in consuetudinibus, illis videlicet, quibus saisita erat ea
die qua regnum suscepi. Dedi, inquam, ad Sumersetensis
episcopatus augmentationem, eatenus præsertim ut inibi
instituat præsuleam sedem.”
On the use of the title “monarches Britanniæ,” see N. C. vol. i. p.
561. It is somewhat singular that, when Henry of Huntingdon (211)
speaks of the Conqueror as leaving “_regnum_ Angliæ” to his second
son, Robert of Torigny, in his own Chronicle, 1085, changes it into
“_monarchiam_ Angliæ.”
The date of the first grant is thus given;
“Lanfranco archipræsule machinante, Wintoniæ factum est
donum hujus beneficii, mill. lxxxviiiᵒ. anno ab incarnatione
Domini, secundo vero anno regni regis Willelmi filii prioris
Willelmi.”
The second year of William Rufus takes in from September 26, 1088, to
September 26, 1089. It is perhaps not necessary to suppose that this
first grant was made in an assembly at all. If it was, we must either
suppose an extraordinary assembly in the autumn of 1088 (for we have
seen by the story of Bishop William of Durham that the Christmas
assembly of that year was held as usual at Westminster, see p. 116),
or else we must suppose that it was done in the Easter assembly of
1089. Yet it is rather straining chronology, even if we begin the year
at Easter, to reckon that assembly to 1088. (In 1089 Easter-day fell
on April 1st.) But that the dates of this charter begin the year at
some time later than the 1st of January is plain from the
confirmation, which was made at Dover “anno Dominicæ incarnationis
mill. xc. regni vero mei iiii. indictione xiii. vi. kal. Febr. luna
iii.” This must mean the January of 1091, as the January of 1090 comes
in the third, not in the fourth, year of Rufus. Also the charter is
signed by Ralph Bishop of Chichester and Herbert Bishop of Thetford,
who did not become bishops till 1091, and who thus seem to have been
consecrated very early in the year. The confirmation would thus seem
to have been made just before William Rufus crossed into Normandy in
1091 (see p. 273), when Dover was a likely place to find him at. A
long list of signatures was made ready, though some only of the names
actually received the cross from the signer’s own hand. Among these
indeed are the names of Ralph and Herbert themselves, as well as those
of Saint Wulfstan and Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances. Bishop Howel of Le
Mans signs with his own hand, and after the abbots comes the unsigned
name of “Gosfridus Mala Terra” without any further description. Can
this be the historian of the Apulian wars? The earls and counts whose
names are given are Roger (of Shrewsbury), Robert (of Mortain or of
Meulan?), Simon (of Northampton), Hugh (of Chester), Alan (of Britanny
and Richmond), Henry, Walter, and William. Of these, Roger, Simon, and
Alan actually sign. Earl Walter must be Walter Giffard, created Earl
of Buckingham by Rufus (see Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 361). Henry must
be Henry Earl of Warwick, brother of Robert of Meulan (see Will. Gem.
vii. 4; Ord. Vit. 676 A; Will. Malms. v. 393; Stubbs, u. s.), and
William must be the younger William of Warren, Earl of Surrey, that
is, if his father died as is asserted by the Hyde writer, or even so
soon as we should infer from Orderic (680 D). The signatures to this
charter thus help us in fixing the dates of the creation of these
earldoms. “Robertus cancellarius” is the future Bishop of Lincoln.
“Samson capellanus,” who does not sign though his name is there, must
surely be he who refused the bishopric of Le Mans (see p. 205), or
else he who was afterwards Bishop of Worcester (see p. 542), if the
two are not the same. Among smaller lay names are many with which we
are familiar. The name of Robert Fitz-hamon stands apart after the
earls, marking his special position in the King’s favour. The name of
Randolf Peverel, whom we have met with in the story of Bishop William
(see p. 109), is followed in the original by that of William Peverel,
which is left out in the Monasticon. The Sheriff Aiulf (see N. C. vol.
iv. p. 163) and Ælfred of Lincoln (see N. C. vol. iii. p. 778) are the
only names which can be those of Englishmen. So soon were the promises
of the Red King forgotten.
It was almost needless on the part of Roger of Wendover (ii. 42), or
whoever he followed, to say that the change was made “consensu
Willelmi regis, _albo unguento manibus ejus delibatis_,” a phrase
which reminds one of “candidi nummi” in Domesday, 164.
Of the two societies which this change so deeply affected, we hear the
moan of the monks of Bath in William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 195),
and that of the canons of Wells in the local Historiola (22). Of
Bishop John’s doings at Bath we read;
“Primo aliquantum dure in monachos agebat, quod essent
hebetes et ejus æstimatione barbari, et omnes terras,
victualium ministras, auferens, pauculumque victum per
laicos suos exiliter inferens. Sed, procedentibus annis,
factis novis monachis, mitius se agere, aliquantulum
terrarum, quo se hospitesque suos quoquomodo sustentarent,
priori indulgens. Multa ibi nobiliter per eum incepta et
consummata, in ornamentis et libris, maximeque monachorum
congregatione, qui sunt scientia literarum et sedulitate
officiorum juxta prædicabiles…. Obiit grandævus, qui nec
etiam moriens emolliri potuit, ut plena manu monachorum
terras redderet, successoribus suis non imitandum præbens
exemplum.”
The Wells tale forms a very remarkable piece of local history, the
main features of which are given in the local Historiola (22), and
which has been illustrated by Dr. Stubbs.
Our more general history is chiefly concerned with the undoing of the
work of Gisa;
“Domiciliis quoque canonicorum quæ Gyso venerabilis
construxerat, refectorio scilicet et dormitorio necnon et
cellario et aliis officinis necessariis, cum claustro
dirutis, canonici foras ejecti coacti sunt cum populo
communiter vivere, quos Gyso docuerat regulariter et
religiose cohabitare.”
He afterwards, we are told, repented; but the canons of Wells did not
recover their property till the days of Bishop Robert (1136-1166),
who, though himself a monk, settled the constitution of the church of
Wells after the usual pattern of secular chapters.
The later Wells writer in Anglia Sacra, i. 560, tells this story, that
is the story of the Historiola, with a few further touches. We read
how John, “inconsultis canonicis Wellensibus et præter eorum
consensum, transtulit sedem episcopalem Wellensem in abbatiam
Bathoniensem … et dimisso nomine episcopatus Wellensis, primus omnium
fecit se Bathoniensem episcopum appellari.” This last charge is
doubtless true; but it may be doubted whether the bishopric of the
Sumorsætan, though its bishopsettle was at Wells, had ever been know
by the local style of bishopric of Wells (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 606,
608). He tells the story of the destruction of the canonical
buildings, with the addition that “fundum in quo prius habitabant sibi
et suis successoribus usurpavit, palatiumque suum episcopale ibidem
construxit.” One is almost inclined to think that there is here some
confusion between John’s two sets of victims, at Bath and at Wells.
The use of the word “palatium” is later than the days of John; but he
doubtless did build his chief house at Bath, and it may very likely
have been at the cost of the monks. He is not at all likely, when
forsaking Wells, to have built himself a house there, and, unless
Bishop Robert in the next century altogether changed the site of the
church, no cloister can ever have stood on the site of the present
palace of Wells. Yet the building of the house supplies a motive for
pulling down the cloister, which otherwise seems to be lacking.
* * * * *
The grant of the city of Bath to Bishop John was first made by William
Rufus, and was afterwards confirmed by Henry the First. The first
grant is recorded in the Historiola (21);
“Cum in multis et magnis obsequendo regis familiaritatem
obtineret, impetravit ab ipso sibi civitatem Bathoniæ.”
The confirmation by Henry is recorded by Florence (1122), and by
William of Malmesbury, Gest. Pont. 194;
“Nec eo contentus, totam etiam civitatem in suos et
successorum usus transtulit, ab Henrico rege quingentis
libris argenti mercatus urbem, in qua balnearum calidarum
latex emergens auctorem Julium Cæsarem habuisse creditur.”
(He goes on with more about the Bath waters and the history of the
place.)
The Monasticon contains several charters bearing on this matter (ii.
267, 268). There is first the charter of Rufus, addressed “O[smundo]
episcopo Saresbergensi et T[urstano] abbati, Glastoniensi et A[iulfo?]
vicecomiti, _omnibusque baronibus Francigenis et Anglis_ de Sumerseta
et de Wiltunscire,” which grants “totam civitatem Bathoniæ in
eleemosynam et ad augmentationem pontificalis sedis suæ … ut cum
maximo honore pontificalem suam habeat sedem.” Then comes one of
Henry’s grants at Windsor in 1101, when he says, “Renovavi donum quod
fecerat frater meus Willelmus rex de civitate Bathoniæ, et eamdem
civitatem donavi Deo et beato Petro apostolo et Johanni episcopo, cum
omnibus consuetudinibus et appendiciis quæ ad ipsum pertinent,
civitatem constitui et concessi, ut ibi deinceps sit caput et mater
ecclesia totius episcopatus de Sumersete.”
Another charter of Henry, confirming various privileges, is granted at
Bishop’s Waltham in 1111 “in transitu regis in Normanniam” (see the
Chronicle, 1111, and N. C. vol. v. p. 182). It says, “Eam donationem
quam donavi Deo et sancto Petro in Batha, ubi frater meus Willielmus
et ego constituimus et confirmavimus sedem episcopatus totius
Summersetæ, quæ olim erat apud villam quæ dicitur Wella, scilicet
ipsam urbem et omnia pertinentia ad firmam ejusdem civitatis, dono et
confirmo ipsi Domino nostro Jesu Christo et beato apostolo Petro et
Johanni episcopo ejusque successoribus jure perpetuo et hæreditario.”
Another from Geddington in 1102 is addressed to a string of great men,
“omnibusque baronibus Francigenis et Angligenis de Sumerset et de omni
Anglia.”
The wording of these charters illustrates a crowd of points which we
have come across at various times, as the name of the land of
Somerset, the use of “jus hæreditarium,” and specially the “barones
[þegnas] Angligenæ.” Among the signatures the charter of 1111 has the
unsigned names of two Romans, “Johannes Tusculanus episcopus” and
“Tyberius dapifer et legatus.” (This Tiberius is spoken of again in a
letter of Anselm to Gundulf, Ep. iii. 85, and in a letter to King
Henry, iii. 86, therefore before 1108, the date of Gundulf’s death,
but after the promotion of Gerard to the archbishopric of York; he was
in England on business about the Romescot.) The second has the name of
“Johannes Baiocensis,” seemingly the son of Bishop Odo. Naturally
neither King makes any mention of the five hundred pounds which,
according to William of Malmesbury, the Bishop paid for the grant.
Lastly, there is Bishop John’s charter of 1106 (“regnante Henrico
filio magni Willelmi _Northmannorum ducis_ et Anglorum regis”), which
records his own acts, and makes some restitution at least to the
monks;
“Notum vobis facio quod ad honorem Dei et sancti Petri
elaboravi et ad effectum perduxi, _cum decenti auctoritate_,
ut caput et mater ecclesia totius episcopatus de Sumerseta
sit in urbe Bathonia in ecclesia S. Petri. Cui beato
apostolo et servitoribus ejus monachis reddidi terras eorum
quas aliquamdiu injuste tenueram in manu mea, ita integre et
libere sicut Alsius abbas ante me tenuit.”
He grants them certain lands which he had bought, amongst others the
estate of Hugh or Hugolin with the Beard, a purchase mentioned also in
the Historiola, where the price is given at sixty pounds. A comparison
of the three places in Domesday 49 _b_, 50 _b_, and 99 seems to show
that Mr. Hunter (p. 38) is right in making “Hugo barbatus” in
Hampshire and “Hugolinus interpres” the same man. But he leaves out
his third description in 50 _b_ as “Hugo latinarius.” It is some
comfort to learn from Mr. Hunter that the “taini regis” were “a very
respectable class;” but it is perhaps more important to note that we
have here a “tainus Francigena” to match the “barones Angligenæ.” Some
of Hugh’s lands had been held of Earl Tostig by one Siward.
* * * * *
In the Monasticon (ii. 264) and the Codex Diplomaticus (vi. 209-211)
are some English documents, chiefly sales and manumissions, done at
Bath in the days of Abbot Ælfsige and Bishop John. As usual in these
private documents, there is a great mixture of Norman and English
names among the signatures. Take such a list as this in Cod. Dipl. vi.
210;
“Osward preóst, and Willelm ðe clerce, and Hugo ðe
postgerefa, and Beóring, and Leófríc, and Heoðewulf, and
Burchhard, and Wulwi, and Geosfræi, and Ælfword ðe smið, and
Eádwi se rédes sune, and Rodberd ðe Frencisce.”
Here we have one of our puzzling Domesday Ælfreds (see N. C. v. 737,
777) witnessing a manumission of Bishop John;
“Her swutelað on ðisse Cristes béc ðæt Lifgið æt Forda is
gefreód and hire twa cild for ðone biscop Iohanne and for
ealne ðone hired on Baðon on Ælfredes gewitnesse Aspania.”
Again in Monasticon, ii. 265 (cf. p. 269), we have a somewhat puzzling
mention of an Abbot Wulfwold as well as Ælfsige;
“Her geswytelað on þysan gewrite þa forefarde þa Willelm
Hosatt geworhte wið Wlfwold abbod, and wið Ælfsige abbod and
wið eall þone hired on Baðan.”
All this must be a little startling to those who believe that the
Conqueror ordered all documents to be drawn up in French.
There is also a Latin document printed in the Archæological Journal,
No. 145, p. 83, in which William of Moion, the first Norman lord of
Dunster, grants the church of Dunster to Bishop John and his monks
(“ecclesiæ beati Petri de Bathonia et Johanni _episcopo ejusdem
monasterii_ et monachis tam præsentibus quam futuris”). William of
Moion’s witnesses seem to be all Normans; but we get some English
names among those on the part of the Bishop; “Gireuuardus monachus et
Girebertus archidiaconus et Dunstanus sacerdos et Gillebertus sacerdos
et Willelmus clericus et Adelardus dapifer et Turaldus et Sabianus.”
There is a letter of Anselm (Ep. iii. 151) addressed to John Prior of
Bath and the monks, but it contains no historical information. John
was the first Prior after the change of foundation.
NOTE G. Vol. i. p. 144.
THE CHARACTER OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
Some of the main points in the character of William Rufus are not
badly hit off by Giraldus (de Inst. Princ. iii. 30), though there are
features on which he does not dwell;
“Erat rex ille strenuus in armis et animosus, sed tyrannus,
adeo militiam diligens ecclesiamque Dei exosam habens ut
monasteria cuncta domosque religiosas ab Anglis olim per
Angliam fundatas et ditatas, cum terris omnibus et
possessionibus, vel ex majori mutilare vel in militares
feodos convertere proposuisset.”
These last words are of importance for another part of our inquiry
(see p. 346); but the general phrase “militiam diligens,” a phrase
capable of more meanings than one, is, in all its meanings, strictly
applicable to Rufus.
Part of the character of him given by the Hyde writer (299) has been
already quoted (see p. 353). He is brought in as follows, with the
further note that he was “nimis amator pecuniæ;”
“Willelmus rex animo ferus, corpore strenuus, defensor quidem patriæ
cœpit esse, sed non satis idoneus procreator [protector? or is a
“nursing-father” meant?] ecclesiæ. Si enim ita studeret religioni quam
vanæ curiositati, nullus ei profecto deberet princeps comparari.”
Geoffrey Gaimar (Chron. Ang. Norm. i. 30) brings him on the stage with
some respect;
“Willam out non come son père,
Et cil refut mult allosé.
Englois, Normanz, l’ont honuré;
Tant come le duc ala conquere,
Le firent roi en Engleterre;
Et il la tint et bien regna,
Normanz, Englois, fort justisa,
Tote la terre mist en peès.”
(For “honuré” another reading is “coroné.”) He then goes on to the war
in Maine, so closely that he reaches Seez on his march soon enough for
the name of that city to rime with “peès.”
But, after the picture in the Chronicles (1100), the character of
William Rufus is best studied in the two works of William of
Malmesbury. On the account in the Gesta Regum I have of course drawn
largely; it is in fact, with some help from Orderic, our main
storehouse. The tone which its writer takes throughout is very
remarkable; he tries to make the best of things without directly
contradicting the facts. In his prologue to the fourth book he
complains of the difficulty, one which has not lessened since his
time, of telling the exact truth about recent matters, especially when
kings are concerned; and he at last lays down a rule which would
forbid any _suggestio falsi_, but would allow a good deal of
_suppressio veri_;
“Dicam in hoc libro … quidquid de Willelmo filio Willelmi
magni dici poterit, ita ut nec veritas rerum titubet, _nec
principalis decoloretur majestas_.”
He brings William Rufus in in the beginning of the book itself;
“Incomparabilis proculdubio nostro tempore princeps, si non
eum magnitudo patris obrueret, nec ejus juventutem fata
præcipitassent, ne per ætatem maturiorem aboleret errores
licentia potestatis et impetu juvenili contractos.”
Certainly Rufus, like many other sinners, might have reformed; but the
charitable hope is made less likely by the general witness, including
that of the writer himself, that he grew worse and worse. For William
of Malmesbury (iv. 312) says himself;
“Excellebat in eo magnanimitas, quam ipse processu temporis
nimia severitate obfuscavit; ita in ejus furtim pectus vitia
pro virtutibus serpebant ut discernere nequiret. Diu
dubitavit mundus quo tandem vergeret, quo se inclinaret,
indoles illius. Inter initia, vivente Lanfranco
archiepiscopo, ab omni crimine abhorrebat, ut unicum fore
regum speculum speraretur; quo defuncto, aliquamdiu varium
se præstitit æquali lance vitiorum atque virtutum, jam vero,
postremis annis bonorum gelante studio, incommodorum seges
succrescens incaluit. Et erat ita liberalis quod prodigus,
ita magnanimus quod superbus, ita severus quod sævus. Liceat
enim mihi, pace majestatis regiæ, verum non occuluisse, quia
iste parum Deum reverebatur, nihil homines.”
He then gives some details, most of which I have quoted already, and
adds an elaborate discourse on real and false liberality. He is
obliged to allow (ib. 313) that the liberality of William Rufus was of
the latter kind;
“Quidam, cum non habeant quod dent, ad rapinas convertuntur,
majusque odium assequuntur ab his quibus auferunt quam
beneficium ab his quibus contulerunt; _quod huic regi
accidisse dolemus_.”
Some way on, after more about his liberality, followed by the
description of the vices of the court, of which more anon, and a short
reference to Anselm and Eadmer, comes (iv. 316) a most singular
passage;
“Vides quantus e liberalitate quam putabat fomes malorum
eruperit. In quibus corrigendis quia ipse non tam exhibuit
diligentiam quam prætendebat negligentiam, magnam et vix
abolendam incurrit infamiam; immerito, credo, quia nunquam
se tali supponeret probro qui se tanto meminisset prælatum
imperio. Hæc igitur ideo inelaborato et celeri sermone
convolvo, quia de tanto rege mala dicere erubesco, in
dejiciendis et extenuandis malis laborans.”
Then come the anecdotes, the annals of the reign, and the account of
the King’s death. Then (iv. 333) we get another small picture of him,
how he was
“Ingentia præsumens, et ingentia, si pensa Parcarum evolvere
vel violentiam fortunæ abrumpere et eluctari potuisset,
facturus.”
Lastly, he is dismissed with this general character;
“Vir sacrati ordinis hominibus, pro damno animæ cujus
salutem revocare laborent, maxime miserandus; stipendiariis
militibus pro copia donativorum mirandus; provincialibus,
quod eorum substantias abradi sinebat, non desiderandus.”
The _Gesta Regum_ was the courtly book, written for courtly readers,
and dedicated to Earl Robert, the Red King’s nephew. The subject
demanded that the writer should say something about the Red King; he
had no mind to tell actual lies; so he made the best of him that he
could without telling any. But William of Malmesbury also wrote the
_Gesta Pontificum_ for ecclesiastical readers. In that book bishops
were the main subject; kings came in only incidentally. But, when he
did speak of them, he was not under the same necessity as he was in
his other work of speaking of them with bated breath. In this work he
treated William Rufus very much as he treated several bishops,
William’s own Flambard among them. He first wrote a most severe
character of him, and then cut it out altogether. The passages which
thus perished in the second edition are printed in Mr. Hamilton’s
notes, pp. 73, 79, 84, 104. In the first place (73) he tells us how
the King, “abjecto respectu omnis boni, omnia ecclesiastica in fiscum
redegit.” He was “juvenili calore et regio fastu præfervidus, humana
divinaque juxta ponderans et sui juris æstimans.” But he has spoken of
his ways elsewhere――doubtless in the _Gesta Regum_――he will now speak
of them only as occasion serves. In the next place (79) he wrote at
first;
“Licet nulla Dei consideratio, nulla cujuscunque hominis
sanctitas, ejus proterviam sedare possent, adeo cuncta quæ
sibi dicebantur vel turbida ira vel facetis, ut sibi
videbatur, salibus eludebat.”
This was too strong; in the second edition things are put in another
light;
“Hoc in rege magnificum videri debet, quod qui omnia pro
potestate facere posset, magis quædam joco eludebat, ad
sales multa extra judicium animi transferens.”
The third passage (84) comes in the story of Anselm; the part of it
which concerns us here runs thus;
“Rex in eum [Anselmum] et in omnes venabatur lites,
commentabatur caussas quibus congregaret pecunias. In
exactionibus sævus, in male partis dispertiendo prodigus,
ibi harpyiarum ungues, hic Cleopatræ luxum, in utroque
impudentiam prætendens. Si quis ei sponte quid obtulisset,
nisi quantitas dati suæ conveniret menti, statim obliquo
intuitu exterrebat quoad illum ad quas liberet doni
conditiones adduceret.”
The last passage (104) also comes in the story of Anselm. William’s
character is thus drawn;
“Protervus et arrogans, æque in Deum ut in homines rebellis,
religioni Christianæ magis ex usu quam amore addictus, ut
qui plures Judæos Christianos factos ad Judaismum pecuniis
corruptus revocaret. Omnia fato agi credulus, nullum
sanctorum nos posse adjuvare credebat et dicebat, subinde
increpitans et dicens, scilicet ea cura jam olim mortuos
sollicitat ut nostris intersint negotiis. Proindeque, si ab
apostolico excommunicaretur, in secundis haberet, qui
quantum suæ conscientiæ interesset, non multum curaret si
totis annis sacramentorum expers esset.”
This last passage is remarkable, as seeming to show that Rufus rather
wondered that he was not excommunicated (see p. 611). And one wonders
too, on reading this passage and some others (see p. 166), that no
controversialist has ever claimed Rufus as a premature Protestant.
Even Sir Richard Baker, a yet more loyal apologist than the author of
the _Gesta Regum_, did not hit upon that.
William of Malmesbury then goes on to tell the story of the accused
deer-stealers――doubtless from Eadmer, to whom he so often refers――and
then gives some reasons for not enlarging further on the evil doings
of Rufus. One is “quod non debeam defunctum meo premere judicio qui
habet judicem præfata [sic], cui judicanti omnis attremit creatura.”
The other is that it is better, for the sake of edification, to pass
by evil doings, especially some kinds of evil doings; “Adulterium
discitur dum narratur, et omne crimen faciendum menti male inculcatur,
dum qualiter ab alio factum sit studiosius explicatur.”
* * * * *
Orderic is in this case less elaborate in his portrait-painting than
William of Malmesbury. Some of his sayings bearing on the character of
William Rufus have been already quoted. He sometimes brings him in,
after his fashion, with some epithet, appropriate or quaint――“liberalis
rex,” “turgidus rex,” “pomposus sceptriger,” and the like. But he
twice gives something like a full-length picture. The first is at 680 A;
“In diebus illis lucerna veræ sanctitatis obscurius micabat
pene cunctis in ordinibus, mundique principes cum subjectis
agminibus inhærebant tenebrosis operibus. Guillelmus Rufus
Albionis rex juvenis erat protervus et lascivus, quem nimis
inhianter prosequebantur agmina populorum impudicis moribus.
Imperiosus et audax atque militaris erat, et multitudine
militum pompose tripudiabat. Militiæ titulis applaudebat,
illisque propter fastum secularem admodum favebat. Pagenses
contra milites defendere negligebat, quorum possessiones a
suis tironibus et armigeris impune devastari permittebat.
Tenacis memoriæ et ardentis ad bonum seu malum voluntatis
erat. Terribilis furibus et latrunculis imminebat, pacemque
serenam per subjectam regionem servari valenter cogebat.
Omnes incolas regni sui aut illexit largitate, aut
compressit virtute et terrore, ut nullus contra eum auderet
aliquo modo mutire.”
This comes just before the pious and humane speech (see p. 223), in
which Rufus proposes the first war in Normandy. Towards the end of the
reign of Rufus (763 C), Orderic takes up his brush again;
“Guillelmus Ruffus, militia clarus, post mortem patris in
Anglia regnavit, rebelles sibi fortiter virga justitiæ
compressit, et xii. annis ac x. mensibus ad libitum suum
omnes suæ ditioni subjugavit. Militibus et exteris largus
erat, sed pauperes incolas regni sui nimis opprimebat, et
illis violenter auferebat quæ prodigus advenis tribuebat.
Multi sub ipso patris sui proceres obierunt, qui proavis
suis extraneum jus bellicose vendicaverunt, pro quibus
nonnullos degeneres in locis magnatorum restituit, et amplis
pro adulationis merito datis honoribus sublimavit. Legitimam
conjugem nunquam habuit, sed obscœnis fornicationibus et
frequentibus mœchiis inexplebiliter inhæsit, flagitiisque
pollutus exemplum turpis lasciviæ subjectis damnabiliter
exhibuit.”
There is also an earlier passage (669 A) which sets forth how William
kept the peace of the land. He records the surrender of Rochester, and
adds;
“Omnium qui contra pacem enses acceperant nequam commotio
compressa est. Nam iniqui et omnes malefactores, ut audaciam
regis et fortitudinem viderunt, quia prædas et cædes aliaque
facinora cum aviditate amplexati fuerant, contremuerunt, nec
postea xii. annis quibus regnavit mutire ausi fuerunt. Ipse
autem callide se habuit et vindictæ tempus opportunum
exspectavit.”
This of course refers to disturbers on a larger scale than common
robbers. But one law applied to all. King William kept down all
evil-doers, save himself and his own company.
Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 22) mainly translates the Chronicle; but he
adds some touches of his own, and strengthens some of the epithets,
“invisus rex nequissimus et Deo et populo,” &c. His general picture
is;
“Nec respirare potuit Anglia miserabiliter suffocata. Cum
autem omnia raperent et subverterent qui regi famulabantur,
ita ut adulteria violenter et impune committerent, quicquid
antea nequitiæ pullulaverat in perfectum excrevit, et
quicquid antea non fuerat his temporibus pullulavit.”
He makes also, improving the words of the Chronicler, an important
addition;
“Quicquid Deo Deumque diligentibus displicebat hoc regi
regemque diligentibus placebat. Nec luxuriæ scelus tacendum
exercebant occulte, sed ex impudentia coram sole.”
This represents the English words (Chron. Petrib. 1100), “And þeah þe
ic hit lang ylde, eall þet þe Gode wæs lað and rihtfulle mannan, eall
þæt wæs gewunelic on þisan lande on his tyman.”
Somewhat later again the discerning William of Newburgh (i. 2) thus
paints the Red King;
“Factum est ut … Willelmus in principio infirmius
laboriosiusque imperaret, et ad conciliandos sibi animos
subditorum modestior mitiorque appareret. At postquam,
perdomitis hostibus et fratre mollius agente, roboratum est
regnum ejus, exaltatum est illico cor ejus, apparuitque,
succedentibus prosperis, qualis apud se latuisset dum
premeretur adversis. Homo vecors et inconstans in omnibus
viis suis; Deo indevotus et ecclesiæ gravis, nuptiarum
spernens et passim lasciviens, opes regni vanissima
effusione exhauriens, et eisdem deficientibus subditorum
fortunas in hoc ipsum corradens. Homo typo immanissimæ
superbiæ turgidus, et usque ad nauseam vel etiam derisionem
doctrinæ evangelicæ, temporalis gloriæ fœdissima voluptate
absorptus.”
This description, after all, is very much that of William of
Malmesbury translated into less courtly language. The “magnanimitas”
has now fully developed into “immanissima superbia.”
* * * * *
From putting together all these descriptions we get the portrait of
William Rufus as one of those tyrants who keep a monopoly of tyranny
for themselves and their immediate servants. He puts down other
offenders, and strictly keeps the general peace of the land. His
justice, in the technical sense, is strong, with of course the special
exceptions hinted at by William of Malmesbury (see p. 143). There is
no charge of cruelty in his own person; but he allows his immediate
followers, his courtiers and mercenaries, to do any kind of wrong
without punishment. He oppresses the nation at large by exactions for
the pay of his mercenaries. He is withal a warlike and chivalrous
king. We must take in the full sense of phrases like “militiam
diligens,” which mean more than simply “warlike;” the technical sense
of “miles” and “militia” often comes in. He was bountiful to his
mercenaries, and generally lavish. He was renowned for a quality
called “magnanimitas.” He was irreligious and blasphemous. Lastly, he
and his immediate company were noticed for specially foul lives, of a
kind, it would seem, out-doing the every-day vices of mankind.
Some of these points call for a more special notice. The
“magnanimitas” of William of Malmesbury is not exactly “magnanimity”
in the modern sense, which generally means a certain grand and stately
kind of mercy. The magnanimous man nowadays chiefly shows his
magnanimity, not so much in forgiving wrongs as in passing them by
without notice; they have hardly moved him enough for forgiveness to
come in. There is something approaching to this in the “magnanimitas
Willelmi” (iv. 309) shown to the knight who unhorsed him before Saint
Michael’s Mount (see p. 289). But the “præclara magnanimitas” (iv.
320) shown in his voyage to Touques is of another kind. Then it is
that we have the wonderful comparison, or rather identification of
William Rufus and Cæsar, of which more in a later note (see Note PP).
William of Malmesbury clearly means the word for praise; and it is at
least not meant for dispraise when Suger, at the beginning of his life
of Lewis (Duchèsne, iv. 283), speaks of “egregie magnanimus rex
Anglorum Guillelmus, magnanimioris Guillelmi regis filius Anglorum
domitoris.” But the word seems to have reached a bad sense when (p.
302) Count Odo is called “tumultuosus, _miræ magnanimitatis_, caput
sceleratorum” (see N. C. vol. v. p. 74). And it is surely a fault,
though it seems to be recorded with admiration, that the first Percy
who held Alnwick “fuit vir magnanimus, quia noluit injuriam pati ab
aliquo sine gravi vindicta” (see the Chronicle of Alnwick in the
second volume of the Archæological Institute at Newcastle, Appendix,
p. v). And, as it is not exactly our “magnanimous,” neither is it
exactly the μεγαλόψυχος [megalopsychos] of Aristotle (Eth. iv. 3)――ὁ
μεγάλων αὐτὸν ἀξιῶν ἄξιος ὤν [ho megalôn auton axiôn axios ôn]――though
it comes nearer to it. William of Malmesbury’s “magnanimus” is perhaps
Aristotle’s μεγαλόψυχος [megalopsychos] verging towards the χαῦνος
[chaunos]. The essence of the character is self-esteem, self-confidence;
a step will change him from William’s “magnanimus” into Orderic’s
“turgidus.” And this comes pretty much to the τετυφωμένος
[tetyphômenos] of the New Testament (2 Tim. iii. 4), who is not unlike
William Rufus, only that he has at least a μόρφωσις ὐσεβείας
[morphôsis eusebeias]. Here our version has “high-minded”―― the
Revised Version has “puffed up”――just as in the departed service for
January 30 the slayers of Charles the First were called “high-minded”
by those who certainly did not mean to praise them. This again is not
quite the “magnanimitas” with which we have to do, which is still a
virtue, though a dangerous one. Perhaps we may say that William the
King really was “high-minded” in this sense, and that William the monk
used a slightly ambiguous word, in order to pass him off for
“high-minded” in the other sense.
* * * * *
The mercenary soldiers, the excesses wrought by them, and the
extortion by which their pay and largesse were supplied, all come out
in the words of the Chronicler that the land was vexed “mid here and
mid ungylde.” That they were chiefly foreigners appears from Orderic’s
phrase “advenæ,” which is doubtless opposed, not only to the “Angli
naturales,” but to the companions of the Conqueror and their sons. The
“advenæ” are opposed to the “incolæ,” whether the “incolæ” have been
settled for one generation or twenty. So says William of Malmesbury
(iv. 314);
“Excitabat ergo totum occidentem fama largitatis ejus,
orientem usque pertendens; veniebant ad eum milites ex omni
quæ citra montes est provincia, quos ipse profusissimis
expensis munerabat; itaque cum defecisset quod daret, inops
et exhaustus ad lucra convertit animum.”
Of their doings he tells us that, “soluta militari disciplina,
curiales rusticorum substantias depascebantur, insumebant fortunas.”
But the fullest account of their misdeeds is that given by Eadmer
(Hist. Nov. 94), when he records the statute passed by Henry, when he
and Anselm give their minds “qualiter aliquo modo mala quæ pauperes
maxime deprimebant mitigarentur.”
“Tempore siquidem fratris sui regis hunc morem multitudo
eorum qui curiam ejus sequebantur habebat, ut quæque
pessumdarent, diriperent, et, nulla eos cohibente
disciplina, totam terram per quam rex ibat devastarent.
Accedebat his aliud malum; plurimi namque eorum sua malitia
debriati dum reperta in hospitiis quæ invadebant, penitus
absumere non valebant, ea aut ad forum per eosdem ipsos
quorum erant pro suo lucro ferre et vendere, aut supposito
igne cremare, aut si potus esset, lotis exinde equorum
suorum pedibus, residuum illius per terram effundere, aut
certe alio aliquo modo disperdere solebant. Quæ vero in
patres-familias crudelia, quæ in uxores et filias eorum
indecentia, fecerint, reminisci pudet. Has ob causas quiqui,
præcognito regis adventu, sua habitacula fugiebant, sibi
suisque quantum valebant in silvis vel aliis locis in quibus
se tutari posse sperebant, consulentes.”
Here doubtless the misdeeds of courtiers, soldiers, and camp-followers,
are all mixed together; but all were in the train of the King. In
short, the march of the second William through his own kingdom must
have done at least as much harm as the march of the first William when
he was only seeking to make it his kingdom. All these horrors
undoubtedly fell on the native English more heavily than on anybody
else; only I see no reason to think that, when the houses of a small
English and a small Norman landowner, or the houses of the English and
Norman tenants of a great landowner, stood near together, the Norman
house would be respected, while the English house was plundered. The
plunderers would hardly touch the house of Thurkill of Warwick any
more than that of Roger of Ivry; but, among their smaller neighbours,
William and Matilda would hardly fare better than Godric and Godgifu.
Indeed William of Malmesbury a little further on (iv. 319) speaks of
the general oppression of Rufus as one that touched all classes, “Non
pauperem tenuitas, non opulentum copia, tuebatur.”
The mercenaries of the days of Rufus forestall the mercenaries of the
days of Stephen and John; but, unless we are to reckon a man of the
rank of Walter Tirel, we do not get such a clear notion of any
particular persons among them. The phrase of Orderic, in one of the
passages already quoted (see above, p. 495), about the promotion of
“degeneres” in the room of the nobles of the Conqueror’s day might
make us think that some of them were put in high places. But no such
instances seem to be recorded. And the word “restituit” might suggest
the restoration of native Englishmen, a process which may really (see
p. 88) have happened to some extent after the suppression of the
rebellion in 1088. But “Ordericus Angligena” would never speak of the
“Angli naturales” as “degeneres.”
* * * * *
The dress, manners, and morals of the court of William Rufus stand out
clearly in several descriptions. “Tunc effeminati passim in orbe
dominabantur” says Orderic (682 B, cf. 781 D), following the remark
with stronger and plainer words. He is eloquent on their womanish
fashion of dressing and wearing the hair;
“Ritus heroum abjiciebant, hortamenta sacerdotum deridebant,
barbaricumque morem in habitu et vita tenebant. Nam capillos
a vertice in frontem discriminabant, longos crines velut
mulieres nutriebant et summopere curabant, prolixisque
nimiumque strictis camisiis indui tunicisque gaudebant. Omne
tempus quidam usurpabant, et extra legem Dei moremque
patrium pro libitu suo ducebant…. In diebus istis veterum
ritus pene totus novis adinventionibus commutatus est.
Femineam mollitiem petulans juventus amplectitur, feminisque
viri curiales in omni lascivia summopere adulantur…. Humum
pulverulentam interularum et palliorum superfluo scirmate
verrunt, longis latisque manicis ad omnia facienda manus
operiunt; et his superfluitatibus onusti celeriter ambulare
vel aliquid utiliter operari vix possunt. Sincipite
scalciati sunt ut fures, occipite autem prolixas nutriunt
comas ut meretrices…. Crispant crines calamistro. Caput
velant vitta sine pileo. Vix aliquis militarium procedit in
publicum capite discooperto legitimeque secundum apostoli
præceptum tonso.”
Yet, with all this aping of female manners, the gallants of Rufus’
court did in one respect follow the law of masculine nature more
closely than their immediate _antecessores_, either Norman or English;
“Nunc pene universi populares cerriti sunt et barbatuli,
palam manifestantes specimine tali quod sordibus libidinis
gaudent, ut fœtentes hirci.”
Bishop Serlo in the sermon (816 A, B) enlarges on this last comparison
with much greater strength of language; and brings in another
likeness, and a reason which certainly has an odd sound;
“Barbas suas radere devitant, ne pili suas in osculis amicas
præcisi pungant, et setosi Saracenos magis se quam
Christianos simulant.”
Seemingly the shaving of the ancient heroes of Normandy was but rare,
perhaps weekly, like the bath of their Danish forefathers (see N. C.
vol. i. p. 651).
Of the long hair, and what Anselm thought of it, we hear again in the
course of our story (see p. 449). William of Malmesbury also (iv. 314)
has his say about the courtiers;
“Tunc fluxus crinium, tunc luxus vestium, tunc usus
calceorum cum arcuatis aculeis inventus; mollitie corporis
certare cum feminis, gressum frangere, gestu soluto et
latere nudo incedere, adolescentium specimen erat. Enerves,
emolliti, quod nati fuerant inviti manebant, expugnatores
alienæ pudicitiæ, prodigi suæ. Sequebantur curiam
effeminatorum manus et ganearum greges.”
A various reading in a note in Sir T. D. Hardy’s edition is stronger
still.
In the Life of Wulfstan (Anglia Sacra, ii. 254) William tells us of
the strictness of that saint in this matter, in which he gave Bishop
Serlo his model;
“Ille vitiosos, et præsertim eos qui crinem pascerent,
insectari, quorum si qui sibi verticem supponerent, ipse
suis manibus comam lascivientem secaret. Habebat ad hoc
parvum cultellum, quo vel excrementa unguium vel sordes
librorum purgare consueverat. Hoc cæsariei libabat
primitias, injungens per obedientiam, ut capillorum
ceterorum series ad eandem complanarentur concordiam. Si qui
repugnandum putarent, eis palam exprobrare mollitiem, palam
mala minari.”
But it is rather hard when William of Malmesbury forgets that all this
belongs to the last years of Wulfstan’s episcopate and not to the
first, and when he goes on to say that the fashion of wearing long
hair led to a decay of military prowess in England, and thereby to the
Norman Conquest. This can be paralleled only with those astounding
notions of Matthew Paris about our beards which I have spoken of in N.
C. vol. iv. p. 686.
As the practice could be put down for a moment only, whether by
Wulfstan, Anselm, or Serlo, William has to come back to it again in
the Historia Novella, i. 4, where he tells of a momentary reform in
1129. See Sir T. D. Hardy’s note.
Some of these descriptions carry us back to earlier times, as to the
picture of the “molles” at Carthage down to Saint Augustine’s day
(Civ. Dei, vii. 26), “qui usque in hesternum diem madidis capillis,
facie dealbata, fluentibus membris, incessu femineo, per plateas
vicosque Carthaginis etiam a populis unde turpiter viverent exigebant”
(only the “molles” of the Red King’s day took what they would by
force). Cf. Lucan, i. 164;
“Cultus gestare decoros
Vix nuribus rapuere mares.”
About the shoes much has been written, and the fashion, in one shape
or another, seems to have lasted for several ages. Orderic is quite as
wrathful at this seemingly harmless folly, as he is at the other evil
fashions which seem more serious. But perhaps the force lies in the
passage where he says (682 C), “Pedum articulis, _ubi finis est
corporis_, colubrinarum similitudinem caudarum imponunt, quas velut
scorpiones præ oculis suis prospiciunt.” The practice seems to have
been looked on as a profane attempt to improve the image of God, an
argument which surely told no less strongly against the practice of
the ancient heroes when they shaved themselves. With Count Fulk (682
A) one cannot help feeling some sympathy. “Quia pedes habebat
deformes, instituit sibi fieri longos et in summitate acutissimos
subtolares, ita ut operiret pedes, et eorum celaret tubera quæ vulgo
vocantur uniones.” Yet this is very gravely set down among his many
evil deeds. Then seemingly another stage took place, when (682 B)
“Robertus quidam nebulo in curia Rufi regis prolixas pigacias primus
cepit implere stuppis, et hinc inde contorquere instar cornu arietis.
Ob hoc ipse Cornardus cognominatus est.”
* * * * *
A number of hints in the above passages seem to show us that the vices
of Rufus were literally the works of darkness, works which even his
own more outspoken age shrank from dwelling on in detail. It is hardly
a metaphor when Orderic says (680 A), “In diebus illis lucerna veræ
sanctitatis obscurius micabat.” For, among the reforms of Henry the
First (Will. Malms. v. 393), “effeminatos curia propellens, lucernarum
usum noctibus in curia restituit, qui fuerat tempore fratris
intermissus.” That Henry the First could be looked on as a moral
reformer is the best sign of what he had to reform. Henry, with his
crowd of mistresses and bastards, is described as loathing the
profligacies (“obscœnitates,” a word which seems used in a special
sense) of his brother (Will. Malms. iv. 314, and specially the
wonderful passage, v. 412, as to the force of which there can be no
doubt), and as making it his first business on his accession to clear
the court of its foulest abuses. (Cf. Mrs. Hutchinson’s account of
Charles the First’s reforms, i. 127.) We must remember that no
mistresses or children of Rufus are mentioned or hinted at. Orderic’s
phrase of “mœchus rex” is quite vague, perhaps euphemistic, and when
the Welsh chronicler (Ann. Camb. 1100) says that “concubinis usus,
sine liberis obiit,” he may be sheltering himself under an ambiguous
word. In the Chronicle of Hugh of Flavigny (Pertz, viii. 496) is a
strange legend of what the writer truly calls “inauditum seculis
omnibus monstrum,” but one which could not have been devised except in
the state of things which William of Malmesbury and Eadmer describe.
After all (see Hen. Hunt. vii. 32; N. C. vol. v. p. 195), the reform
wrought by Henry seems to have been only for a season. It is some
slight comfort to hear from the mouth of Anselm, in his first protest
to the King (Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 24), that the presence of Eastern
vices in England was something new――“noviter in hac terram
divulgatum.”
* * * * *
Of the blasphemies of William Rufus several instances have been given
in the text. He had also, like everybody else of his time, his own
special oath. As his father swore “par la resplendar Dé,” as other
kings swore “per oculos Dei,” “per pedes Dei,” “per dentes Dei,”
William Rufus swears (“sic enim jurabat,” says William of Malmesbury,
iv. 309) “per vultum Dei,” or more commonly “per vultum de Luca.” Some
of the older writers oddly mistook this for an oath by Saint Luke’s
face. But the true meaning of the “vultus de Luca” was long ago
explained by Ducange under the word “vultus,” where he refers to the
then manuscript “Otia Imperialia” of Gervase of Tilbury, iii. 24,
which will be found in Leibnitz’s collection of Brunswick writers, i.
967. The “vultus Lucanus” was held to have been made by Nicodemus from
the impression of our Lord’s face taken on linen immediately after the
crucifixion. This it was by which the Red King swore. In French the
oath takes the form “Li vo de Luche” (Roman de Rou, line 14920). M.
Charles de Rémusat (St. Anselme de Cantorbéry, 133) remarks, “Il se
peut même que ce ne soit pas précisément celui de Lucques; car on
appela Saint Voult-de-Lucques, vulgairement et par corruption Saint
Godeln, tout crucifix habillé semblable à celui-là tel que ceux qu’on
voyait jadis à Saint-Etienne-de-Sens, au Sépulcre à Paris.” But it is
strange that Lappenberg (Geschichte von England, ii. 172), when
telling the story of the Red King’s “magnanimitas” before Saint
Michael’s Mount (see p. 289 and Appendix N), brings in the oath “per
vultum de Luca” in Wace’s story, where it is not found, in the form
“bei dem heiligen Antlitz zu Lucca,” and afterwards in William of
Malmesbury’s story in the form “bei St. Lucca’s Antlitz.”
NOTE H. Vol. i. p. 168.
THE ECCLESIASTICAL BENEFACTIONS OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
I think that an examination of the cases in which William Rufus has
the credit of an ecclesiastical benefactor will show that in most of
them, if not in all, there is a direct or implied reference to the
memory of his father. In the case of Battle and Saint Stephen’s this
is plain on the surface. Of his moveable gifts to Battle some have
been mentioned already (see p. 18); he also gave (Chron. de Bello, 40)
considerable gifts in real property, specially the royal manor of
Bromham in Wiltshire, valued at forty pounds yearly. One year’s income
then was to be got back by converting the young Jew back to Judaism
(see p. 163). At the dedication of Battle he gave (Chron. de Bello,
41; Mon. Angl. iii. 246) a number of churches, “pro anima patris mei
regis Willielmi, et matris et omnium parentum nostrorum qui ibi in
bello ceciderunt, et aliorum omnium.” The local writer, who records
none of his evil deeds, gives him this character (42);
“Tantopere memoratus rex eandem amabat, excolebat,
tuebaturque ecclesiam, ejusque dignitates et regales
consuetudines conservabat, ut quemadmodum patris ejus
tempore nullus ei adeo adversari præsumeret, ipse quoque
quotiens casu vicinia peteret, ex dilectionis abundantia
sæpius eam revisere, fovere, et consolari solitus fuerat.”
As for Saint Stephen’s, there is a charter in Neustria Pia, 638, of
William Rufus of 1088 granting various lands in England, among them
Coker in Somerset and Wells in Norfolk, with the church of Corsham in
Wiltshire and other tithes. The signatures show that it is very
carelessly copied or printed; but among them is “Willelmus
cancellarius,” that is, William Giffard, afterwards Bishop of
Winchester; see vol. ii. p. 349. We read how “glorioso patri gloriosus
filius Willelmus in regnum successit,” and how he made his gifts,
“prædicti cœnobii utilitati prospiciens, habito procerum et
religiosarum personarum Angliæ et Normanniæ consilio.”
The Waltham writer (De Inv. c. 22) has another way of looking at
things. Of the Conqueror he speaks most respectfully, but adds;
“Successit ei filius Willelmus Ruphus cognomento, hæres
quidem beneficiorum, sed degener morum, cui breves annos
credimus indultos, quia concessis sibi beneficiis a Domino
minus aptus nec ecclesiæ devotus sicut expediret, nec
justitiæ strenuus executor, sed vir desideriorum eisque
indulgens semper exstitit.”
The wrongs which Rufus did to Waltham are told with great fervour of
declamation; and specially why he did them, namely,
“Vilia censens Anglorum instituta, nec eousque valitura quin
eis eligeret ditare prædecessorum sepulturas, et ecclesiam
Cadomensem ex rapina ornare, et spoliis Walthamensis
ecclesiæ salubre remedium credens animarum patris et matris
ibi quiescentium, si de alieno et quasi ab uno altari
distracto aliud ornatur, et quasi munus gratum et valde
preciosum alicui patri offerantur præcisa proprii membra
filii.”
The words about English customs are meant, with whatever truth, to
contrast William the Red with his father, who is praised for observing
them. The plunder transferred from Waltham to Caen consisted of
moveable wealth of every kind, among other things books, valued
altogether at the incredible sum of 6666 pounds. The King afterwards
repented, and, though the spoil stayed in the two minsters at Caen, he
gave back, after the death of Bishop William of Durham (who is
confounded with Walcher), that is in 1096 or later, during the
vacancy, the lands which had been given to the bishopric (see N. C.
vol. iv. p. 664). Dr. Stubbs (p. 50) prints a writ of William Rufus
addressed “vicecomitibus suis et ministris [þegnas],” confirming to
the canons of Waltham all “terras suas et consuetudines” which they
held in his father’s time. It is a mere writ; but it must, as Dr.
Stubbs suggests, be the occasion of the burst of joy in c. 23;
“Laudamus præsentem hunc Willelmum, qui ob reconciliandam
sibi crucifixi gratiam quam offendisse plurimum non
dubitamus in hujus perpetratione spoliationis, qui eam carta
sua ecclesiæ confirmavit, et sub prædicto anathematis
edicto, assistentibus archiepiscopis, episcopis, et universo
clero, communiter roboravit.”
Dr. Stubbs (De Inv. 14) suggests, with great likelihood, that this
robbery of the moveable wealth of Waltham was not done for the
enriching of Saint Stephen’s, but that it was part of the general
robbery of all churches to pay the price of Normandy in 1096 (see p.
358). And this is the more likely, because the 6666 pounds (= 10,000
marks) said to have been taken from Waltham was actually the sum paid
to Robert. The Waltham writer has made some confusion in his
reckoning. Still the general picture of the Red King robbing Waltham
and enriching Caen holds good. For we have seen that he was a
benefactor to Saint Stephen’s, and the writ seems to imply some
meddling with the lands, as well as the treasures, of Waltham.
* * * * *
The curious story about the hospital of Saint Peter, afterwards Saint
Leonard, at York, all about Æthelstan and the Culdees, and the grant
of the thrave of corn which became memorable in the fifteenth century
(see Lingard, iv. 163), will be found in the local history in the
Monasticon, vii. 608. We read how the Conqueror confirmed everything,
and then――
“Willelmus Rufus, filius Conquestoris prædicti, rex
immediate succedens, fundavit seu mutavit situm dicti
hospitalis in locum regium ubi nunc situatur,… et dedit et
confirmavit dictas travas hospitali prædicto, sicut fecit
pater ejus Conquestor.”
So Leland speaks of “Gulielmus junior, rex Angliæ, fundator
hospitalis, qui etiam ecclesiolam ibidem construxit et S. Petro
dedicavit.”
So the hospital of God’s House at Thetford is attributed to William
Rufus, Mon. Angl. vii. 769. He is also said to have founded the
nunnery of Armethwaite in Cumberland, and the foundation charter is
printed in the Monasticon, iii. 270. But it is spurious on the face of
it. The date given is January 6, 1089; yet Rufus is made to give
grants in Carlisle which he did not yet possess, and to call himself
“dux Normannorum.” He appears too in the Abingdon History, ii. 26,
284, as granting the church of Sutton to the abbey of Abingdon on the
petition of Abbot Reginald. The grant has three somewhat
characteristic witnesses, Robert Fitz-hamon, Robert the Chancellor,
that is Robert Bloet, and our old friend Croc the Hunter.
He is also called a benefactor to the church of Rochester; but it is
not clear that he actually gave anything of his own cost. In the local
histories (Mon. Angl. i. 161, 162, 174) we read that Rufus “reddidit
et restituit Lamhethe et dedit Hedenham ecclesiæ Roffæ;” “dedit
Lamtheam [hetham] et Aedenham ad victum monachorum,” &c. In p. 163 is
his writ granting the manor of Stone to the church of Saint Andrew and
Bishop Gundulf; and in 173, 174 he grants Lambeth and Hedenham. But
Henry’s charter in the same page speaks of Lambeth and Hedenham as
gifts of Bishop Gundulf to the monks, and in p. 165 Stone is held by
Ralph the son, and Osmund the son-in-law, of Gilbert, who becomes a
monk at Rochester. The brothers find the King a harsh lord (“ambo
regis exactionibus tantum fuerunt gravati ut vix amplius hoc possent
ferre. Erant enim illis diebus consuetudines regis gravissimæ atque
durissimæ per totum regnum Angliæ”); they therefore suggest that the
Bishop should get the manor of the King, and they will hold it of him.
“Quo audito, episcopus quam citius potuit regem impigre adiit,
amicorum itaque apud regem usus auxilio, tandem obtinuit quod petiit;
dedit ergo episcopus Willielmo regi, magni regis Willielmi filio, xv.
libras denariorum et unam mulam quæ bene valebat c. solidos.” Ralph
and Osmund become the Bishop’s men for the manor――a very good case of
round-about commendation――but presently, by an exchange of lands
between them and the Bishop, Stone becomes a direct possession of the
see. We have also heard something about Hedenham in N. C. vol. iv. p.
366, and William of Malmesbury also (Gest. Pont. 137) speaks of it as
bought by Gundulf――“ex suo villam coemptam.” Lambeth may have been a
free gift. It afterwards, as all the world knows, passed by exchange
to the see of Canterbury.
There is a very curious document in the Monasticon (ii. 497) from the
cartulary of Tavistock in which Rufus――“inclitæ recordationis secundus
Guillielmus”――confirms in 1096 to the abbey a manor, Wlurintun, which
some said belonged to the crown. The grant of course takes the form of
a gift. But the only thing which Rufus really seems to have given was
an ivory knife, a symbol which is also met with in other cases;
“Sciant omnes quod rex per cultellum eburneum quod in manu
tenuit et abbati porrexit hoc donum peregit apud curiam …
qui quidem cultellus jacet in feretro sancti Rumoni.”
The witnesses are Bishop Walkelin of Winchester, Bishop John of Bath,
and Abbot Thurstan of Glastonbury. The demand had been made before
commissioners sent in Lent to Devonshire, Cornwall, and Exeter――the
local capital stands apart――“ad investiganda regalia placita.” They
were Bishop Walkelin, “Randulfus capellanus” (Flambard), William
_Capra_ (see him in Domesday, 110, as _Chievre_; he is _Capra_ in
Exon), and “Hardinus Belnoldi filius.” Is not “Belnoldus,” a strange
name, a miswriting for _Ednodus_? See N. C. vol. iv. p. 756.
Lastly, we have elsewhere seen (see N. C. iv. 411) that William
granted the manor of Bermondsey to the foundation of the Englishman
Ælfwine Child. See the charter in Monasticon, v. 100. It is witnessed
by the founder Ælfwine, also, between the bishops and Eudo _dapifer_,
by “Johannes de Sumbresetta.” Is this the Bishop of Bath, not yet used
to his new title?
* * * * *
A crowd of writs securing churches in rights already possessed, as
well as simple confirmations of the grants of others, do not bear upon
the matter. And we must not forget that he showed a degree of
tenderness to the monks of Durham during the banishment of their
bishop (see p. 299) which he failed to show to other monks. Still, in
any case, the gifts of William Rufus make a poor show between the
gifts of the founder of Battle and those of the founder of Reading.
NOTE I. Vol. i. p. 169.
CHIVALRY.
I refer to the remarkable passage of Sir Francis Palgrave, Normandy
and England, iv. 438;
“Are we not told that ‘the Spirit of Chivalry was the parent
and offspring of the Crusades?’ again that in ‘the
accomplished character of the Crusader we discover all the
virtues of a perfect Knight, the true Spirit of Chivalry,
which inspired the generous sentiments and social offices of
man?’――the Historian might reply in the words of a great
Teacher, whose voice already resounds in History――‘I confess
that if I were called upon to name what Spirit of evil
predominantly deserved the name of Antichrist, I should name
the Spirit of Chivalry: the more detestable for the very
guise of the Archangel ruined, which has made it so
seductive to the most generous spirits――but to me so
hateful, because it is in direct opposition to the impartial
justice of the Gospel, and its comprehensive feeling of
equal brotherhood, and because it so fostered a sense of
honour rather than a sense of duty.’… Take the huge folio of
the _Gesta Dei per Francos_――search it boldly and honestly,
turn over its fifteen hundred pages, examine their contents
according to the rules of moral evidence, the praises the
Writers bestow, and more than their praises, their blame;
their commentaries upon deeds of cruelty, and more than
their commentaries, their silence――and try how much you can
extract which will justify any one of the general positions
which the popular enthusiasts for Chivalry have maintained.”
The extract is from a letter of Arnold to Archdeacon Hare in 1829
(Life and Correspondence, i. 255). A note adds;
“‘Chivalry,’ or (as he used more frequently to call the
element in the middle ages which he thus condemned)
‘feudality,’ is especially Keltic and
barbarian――incompatible with the highest virtue of which man
is capable, and the last at which he arrives――a sense of
justice. It sets up the personal allegiance to the chief
above allegiance to God and law.”
Nothing can be better; only it is not quite clear what Arnold meant by
“Keltic;” continental chivalry must be carefully distinguished from
devotion to the chief of the clan, though there is much analogy
between the two feelings. But, as I have said elsewhere (N. C. vol. v.
p. 483), chivalry is Norman rather than English and French rather than
Norman; so in that sense it may be called “Keltic.”
Sir Francis Palgrave goes on to discuss one of the stories of the
boasted generosity of Bayard. Like some others, it merely comes to
this, that he did not act a part which would have been singularly
shameful.
About chivalry and other kindred matters, I had my own say in an
article on the Law of Honour in the Fortnightly Review, December 1876.
But I must decline to pledge myself to Sir F. Palgrave’s condemnation
of the crusades. All that he says is perfectly true of the crimes and
follies in detail with which the crusades were disgraced. And in those
days it would have been hard to carry out a crusade without a large
measure of those crimes and follies. And this might be in itself a
fair argument, though not one which the age would have understood,
against undertaking any crusade at all. But I must hold that the
general idea of the crusade itself was something high above all
chivalry. I must hold that all the crusades before the fourth,
whatever we say of the way in which they were carried out, were in
themselves fully justifiable, both in morality and in policy. Surely,
in all that bears on this matter, it is Cohen rather than Palgrave
that speaks. With all his learning and acuteness, with all his lofty
and Christian morality, his deep and wide-reaching sympathy with right
and hatred of wrong in every shape, my illustrious predecessor in
Norman and English history was still, as a man of the East, unable
thoroughly to throw himself into the Western side of a great struggle
between East and West.
NOTE K. Vol. i. p. 196.
THE PURCHASE OF THE CÔTENTIN BY THE ÆTHELING HENRY.
I have told this part of my story as I find it in Orderic, whose
account seems to me to be probable, and to hang well together, while
it is confirmed, not indeed in every detail, but in its leading
outlines, by the account in the Continuation of William of Jumièges;
that is, by Robert of Torigny. But William of Malmesbury and Wace give
quite different versions. That of William is found, not in the part of
his work where he records the events of the reign of William Rufus,
but at the beginning of his fifth book (v. 392), where he introduces
the reign of Henry with a sketch of his earlier life. While the
rebellion of 1088 is going on in England, and while Robert is
waiting――waiting, our historian says, for a favourable wind――to go to
help his supporters there, Henry, by the Duke’s order, goes away into
Britanny (“Henricus in Britanniam ejus jussu abscesserat”). Meanwhile
Robert spends on his mercenaries the money which the Conqueror had
left to Henry, which is here cut down from 5000 pounds to 3000
_marks_――a mistake partly arising from a confusion between the whole
sum left to Henry and the sum paid for the Côtentin (“Ille, occasione
aucupata, omnem illam pecuniarum vim testamento patris adolescentulo
legatam, quæ erat trium millium marcarum, in stipendiarios suos
absumpsit”). Then follows a very confused story, how Henry came back
and passed over the wrong in silence (“Henricus reversus, licet
forsitan ægre tulisset, taciturna præteriit industria”); the reason
given being the restoration of peace in England (“enimvero, nuntiata
pacis compositione in Anglia, deposita militia ferias armis dedere”).
He then goes away into some quarter where the Duke had given or
promised him lands, but he is at the same time entrusted with the
keeping of the castle of Rouen (“comes in sua, junior in ea quæ frater
suus dederat vel promiserat, discessit; namque et in acceptum promissa
referebat, custodiens turrim Rotomagi in ejus fidelitatem.” Or can
these last words mean that Henry kept the castle of Rouen in pledge
till the promised lands were actually put into his hands?). Presently,
on the accusation of some very bad people――if the Bishop of Bayeux was
one of them, he is not mentioned by name――Henry is unjustly kept in
ward for half a year in this same tower of Rouen (“delatione
pessimorum cessit in adversum fidelitas, et nulla sua culpa in ipso
eodem loco Henricus libere custoditus est, ne servatorum diligentiam
[who are the “servatores”?] effugio luderet”). Then he goes by
William’s invitation to England, and enters the King’s service; there
William keeps him for a year, making promises which he never fulfils.
Robert meanwhile sends a message promising redress, on the strength of
which Henry goes back to Normandy (“post medium annum laxatus, fratri
Willelmo invitanti serviturum se obtulit; at ille, nihilo modestius
ephebum remunerans, plus anno inanibus sponsionibus agentem distulit.
Quapropter, Roberto emendationem facti per nuntios promittente,
Normanniam venit”). There he was exposed to intrigues on the part of
both his brothers, which are very darkly described; but he escapes
from all danger, and, by seizing Avranches and some other castles,
compels Robert to make peace with him (“amborum fratrum expertus
insidias; nam et rex, pro repulsa iratus, ut retineretur frustra
mandarat; et comes, accusatorum lenociniis mutatus, voluntatem
verterat ut blanditiis attrectatum non ita facile dimitteret. Verum
ille, Dei providentia et sagaci sua diligentia cuncta evadens
pericula, occupatione Abrincarum et quorundam castellorum coegit
fratrem libenter paci manum dedere”). Then comes the invasion of
Normandy by William, the sedition at Rouen, the death of Conan by
Henry’s own hand (see p. 257). Robert then ungratefully drives Henry
from the city (“parum hic labor apud Robertum valuit, virum animi
mobilis, qui statim ad ingratitudinem flexus, bene meritum urbe cedere
coegit”). Then, without any explanation, comes the siege of Saint
Michael’s Mount, which he had already described elsewhere (iv. 308).
Of Domfront and Saint James we hear nothing.
There is in this account a greater attempt at chronological precision
than is usual with William of Malmesbury, especially when he tells a
story out of its chronological place. And the dates do not hang badly
together. Henry is put in ward late in 1088 for six months. On his
release he goes to England for a year, comes back, and seizes
Avranches. This brings us well into 1090, the year of the vicarious
invasion of Normandy by Rufus, of the sedition at Rouen, and of the
death of Conan. But these dates do not agree with the more exact
chronology of Orderic. According to him (672 D), Henry went to England
in the summer of 1088, and came back to Normandy in the autumn of the
same year (“In æstate, postquam certus rumor de Rofensis deditione
citra mare personuit … transfretavit … deinde in auctumno regi
valefecit”). He is at once imprisoned, and is released, as far as one
can see, about February 1089. At least Orderic mentions his release as
happening about the same time as the death of Durand Abbot of Troarn,
on February 3 in that year (676 B, C). Moreover the order of events,
both with regard to the voyage and imprisonment, is altogether
changed, and the whole story is told in a different way from that of
Orderic. The story about Robert taking Henry’s money contradicts the
express statement of Orderic (659 D) that Henry had put his money in
safe keeping; it contradicts too the implied statements of Orderic and
all the other writers who describe the cession of the Côtentin to
Henry as a sale, or at least as a pledge, as something in either case
by which Henry paid down money and received land. And it may be hard
to reconcile William of Malmesbury’s narrative here with his own
statement just before (v. 391), that Henry was “paterna benedictione
et materna hæreditate, simul et multiplicibus thesauris, nixus.” Nor
has William of Malmesbury any distinct mention of the Côtentin, or of
any other possessions of Henry, till after his release from prison.
And then he represents Henry as obtaining them by force, a story which
most likely comes from some confusion with the later events, mentioned
in p. 286. The visit to Britanny on the part of Henry which comes
earlier in the story is most likely his visit to Britanny after the
siege of Saint Michael’s Mount (see p. 294) moved out of its place.
The whole narrative is dark and perplexed throughout, in marked
contrast to the clear and careful statement of Orderic. And among the
points on which William differs from Orderic the only one on which he
is at all borne out by any trustworthy authority is, as we shall
presently see, that by which he makes Rouen the place of Henry’s
imprisonment. Yet there are one or two points on which we might almost
think that William had some narrative like that of Orderic before him.
Though Robert gets possession of Henry’s money in different ways in
the two stories, yet in both he takes it for the same purpose, that of
paying his mercenaries. And there is a certain likeness in the
pictures which they both give of Henry as exposed to the enmity of
both his brothers at once. It is possible that William’s version may
really be an unsuccessful attempt to put together the detached facts
of Orderic’s story, not necessarily of Orderic’s text.
Wace tells the story in a yet more confused way than William of
Malmesbury, and with the events strangely transposed throughout. But
he gives one or two details, bringing in persons of whom we hear
elsewhere, which are likely enough to be authentic. When Robert is
planning the invasion of England, he wants money, and for that end,
pledges (14505-14520), not grants or sells, the Côtentin to Henry.
“Henris li a l’aveir presté,
Si come il li out demandé:
Costentin en gage reçut,
E tant lunges aveir le dut
Ke li dus li soen li rendist,
E del tot son gréant en fist.”
He adds that Richard of Reviers, or Redvers, left Robert’s service for
that of Henry, in answer to a special request made by Henry to his
brother. This is likely enough. Richard of Redvers appears once in
Domesday (Dorset 83), and his pedigree is set forth in a special note
by Mr. Stapleton (ii. cclxix), who corrects the belief (see Prevost on
Wace, ii. 307; Ellis, i. 377) that he was a son of Baldwin of Exeter
(see Norman Conquest, iv. 161). He appears in Orderic (689 C) and the
Continuation of William of Jumièges (viii. 4), along with Earl Hugh of
Chester, as one of Henry’s supporters in the Côtentin, and we see
throughout that he was an important person in Henry’s reign (see vol.
ii. p. 362. Cf. Orderic, 783 D, 833 D; Mon. Angl. v. 105, in the
account of Saint James’ priory near Exeter). The words in which the
Duke bids Richard leave his service for that of Henry (14534-14545)
are curious, and throw light on the many expressions in Domesday about
the grant or _invasio_ of a freeman and the like (see N. C. iv. 723;
v. 751;
“Jo ne sai ke Richart pensa,
Mais semblant fist ke li pesa
K’il deveit del duc tot partir
E son frère Henris servir.
Richart, dist li dus, si fereiz,
Henris mon frere servireiz,
_Vostre fieu è vos li otrei_;
N’est pas meinz gentil hom de mei;
Sis hoem seiez; jel’ vos comant;
Servez le bien d’ore en avant:
Vos n’arez jà de li hontage,
Nos somes andui d’un parage.”
We may compare the story in Orderic, 814 B, C, where Duke Robert
grants Count William of Evreux to his brother (“ei Guellelmum consulem
Ebroarum cum comitatu suo et omnibus sibi subjectis concessit”), and
where the Count is amazed at finding himself likened to a horse or an
ox (“præclarus comes, ut se quasi equum vel bovem dandum audivit”).
The thoughts of Richard, which Wace did not know, may have been much
the same as those of Count William.
Robert then goes on his invasion of England, but leaves off on
William’s engaging to pay him five thousand pounds yearly
(14548-14871). This, I need hardly say, is pure fiction; or rather it
is Robert’s expedition in the reign of Henry carried back to the reign
of Rufus. On coming back to Normandy, Robert quarrels with Henry, it
is not easy to see why, while William is also angry with him on
account of the help in money given by him to Robert. Robert then takes
possession of the Côtentin, and does not repay Henry his money
(14874-14887);
“Robert out l’aveir despendu,
E Costentin a retenu,
Ne Henris Costentin n’en out,
Ne ses deniers aveir ne pout.”
Henry then defends himself on Saint Michael’s Mount, and the account
of the siege follows. Henry’s voyage to England, and his imprisonment,
which is said to be at Rouen, are placed later still (14754-14759).
On the other hand, the short account given by Robert of Torigny in the
Continuation of William of Jumièges (viii. 2) is much more nearly in
agreement with Orderic. He records the bequest of five thousand pounds
to Henry, with the addition that it was in English money (N. C. vol.
iv. p. 854). He then mentions the cession of the Côtentin to Henry,
but he is uncertain whether to call it a grant, or, with Wace, a
pledge (“Robertus frater suus dedit illi comitatum Constantiensem,
vel, ut alii volunt, invadiavit”). He says nothing about Henry’s
voyage to England in 1088; but he mentions the slanders against Henry
and his consequent imprisonment by Robert. Here comes in his only
point of difference from Orderic. Orderic (672 D, see above, p. 199)
makes Henry come back from England in company with Robert of Bellême;
they are both seized on the sea-shore, and are shut up in different
prisons;
“Quidam malevoli discordiæ satores eos anticipaverunt, et,
falsa veris immiscentes, Roberto duci denuntiaverunt quod …
cum rege Rufo essent pacificati, et ad ducis damnum
sacramenti etiam obligatione confœderati. Dux igitur … cum
Baiocensi episcopo consilium iniit et præfatos optimates
præoccupavit. Nam antequam aliquid molirentur, quum securi
ad littus maris de navibus egrederentur, valida militum manu
missa eos comprehendit, vinculis coarctavit, et unum Baiocis
aliumque Noilleio sub manu Baiocensis tyranni custodiæ
mancipavit.”
Robert of Torigny, on the other hand, like Wace, makes Rouen the place
of arrest; but he does not go on to say with William of Malmesbury
that it was the place of imprisonment (“Inventis quibusdam vilibus
occasionibus, per malorum tamen hominum suggestiones, ipsum nihil tale
meditantem apud Rothomagum capiens, quod dederat indecenter
extorsit”). These last words of course refer to the Côtentin, and
imply an occupation of it by Robert during Henry’s imprisonment. Later
events follow in much the same order as in Orderic.
The author of the Brevis Relatio, who wrote in Henry’s reign, must
have drawn from the same sources as the Continuator, as the words of
his short account (11) are to some extent the same. He gives
a clear and terse summary of the fortunes of Henry during the reign of
Rufus, which is almost his only mention of that reign. The words which
at present concern us are these; “Henricus remansit in Normannia cum
Roberto fratre suo, qui dedit ei quamdam terram in Normannia, sed non
diutius inde gaudium habuit [“Non diutius inde gavisus est,” says the
Continuator]. Non multo enim tempore, inventis quibusdam vilibus
occasionibus, ei illam abstulit.”
The agreement between Orderic and Robert of Torigny is the more
valuable, because they clearly write from independent sources, and, as
we shall see presently, fill up gaps in one another. William of
Malmesbury brings in his story incidentally, and has made confusions.
Wace, as is not at all wonderful, is less accurate at this part of his
narrative than he was at an earlier stage. The expedition of the
Conqueror was his main subject, and on that he evidently bestowed the
greatest care, not only in gathering information from all quarters,
but very often in sifting it. He is now dealing with the kind of time
which most men in all ages know least about, the times a little before
and a little after his own birth. I must confess, for my own part,
that there is no part of English history in which I feel so little at
home as in the administration of the Earl of Liverpool.
* * * * *
Anyhow William of Newburgh speaks with great truth when, after (i. 2)
sketching the character of William and Robert, he adds; “Porro
Henricus frater junior, laudabilem præferens indolem, duris et infidis
fratribus militabat.”
NOTE L. Vol. i. p. 257.
THE DEATH OF CONAN.
The death of Conan suggests the death of Eadric (see N. C. vol. i. pp.
415, 740); only, while the story of Eadric’s death has grown into
several mythical forms, we have only two versions of the death of
Conan. These are given us by Orderic (689) and by William of
Malmesbury (v. 392). Both of these are contemporary writers in the
sense of having been born at the time――Orderic was about
fourteen――though neither could have written his account till a good
many years after. Orderic’s account is remarkably clear and
circumstantial; and, if the sharp interchang of sentences between
Henry and Conan is open to suspicion of another kind, it is not open
to the same kind of suspicion which attaches to rhetorical speeches in
Orderic or anywhere else. No one but Henry himself could have told the
story in the first instance, and stories of this kind, coming under
the head of personal anecdote, commonly get improved as they pass from
mouth to mouth. But there is no reason to suspect any invention on the
part of Orderic himself, which in a long speech we always may suspect.
With these prudent allowances, we may surely accept the tale as it
stands in Orderic. The version of William of Malmesbury reads like a
rather careless summary of some account to the same general effect as
Orderic, but with some differences of detail. But the dramatic effect
of Orderic’s dialogue has wholly passed away from William’s
abridgement.
I will mention the chief differences between the two accounts.
According to Orderic, Duke Robert was all this time on the other side
of the Seine; William, who knows nothing about his flight, keeps him
still at Rouen. Here Orderic’s version is clearly to be preferred. The
story of Robert’s flight is either true, or else direct invention. I
do not mean an invention of Orderic, but an invention of Robert’s
enemies at the time. But if William had never heard that story, he
would conceive the Duke to be at Rouen as a matter of course. William
then makes Robert wish to put Conan in prison; but Henry demands that
he should be given over to himself (“Conanum quendam, proditionis apud
comitem insimulatum, quem ille vinculis irretire volebat, arbitratus
nihil calamitosius posse inferri misero quam ut exosum spiritum in
ergastulo traheret――hunc ergo Conanum Henricus suæ curæ servatum iri
postulavit”). Robert here seems to wish for Conan’s imprisonment, not
out of the merciful feeling which Orderic attributes to him when he
comes back to the city, but rather as deeming imprisonment worse than
death. In either case Henry goes on the principle that “stone dead
hath no fellow.”
In the summary of the dialogue, William brings in one or two points
which are not in Orderic. As Henry shows the view to Conan, he
promises in mockery that all shall be his; “sua per ironiam omnia
futura pronuntians.” This differs altogether from “quam pulcram tibi
patriam conatus es subjicere.” One is half tempted to see in William’s
version a touch of legend worked in from the Gospels.
Instead of Henry’s characteristic oath by the soul of his mother,
which must surely be genuine, William puts into his mouth a discourse
on the duty of the vassal, and his punishment if faithless, which
seems a little too long for the time and place; “Nullam vitæ moram
deberi traditori: quoquo modo alieni hominis posse tolerari injurias,
illius vero qui tibi juratus fecerit hominium, nullo modo posse
differri supplicium si fuerit probatus perfidiæ.”
From the narrative of Orderic, one would certainly infer that Henry
and Conan were alone together in the tower, Henry doubtless armed and
Conan unarmed. William of Malmesbury gives Henry companions who help
to throw Conan down; “comitibus qui secum aderant pariter
impellentibus.” The exact spot also seems differently conceived by the
two writers. William of Malmesbury makes Conan fall into the river;
“inopinum ex propugnaculo deturbans in subjectam Sequanam
præcipitavit.” This seems quite inconsistent with Orderic, whose words
(690 D) are;
“Contemptis elegi supplicationibus, ipsum ambabus manibus
impulit, et per fenestram turris deorsum præcipitavit. Qui
miserabili casu in momento confractus est, et _antequam
solum attingeret_ mortuus est. Deinde cadaver illius jumenti
caudæ innexum est, et per omnes Rothomagi vicos ad terrendos
desertores turpiter pertractum est.”
From this it seems clear that Conan fell on dry ground. And though the
river, before the quays were made, certainly came nearer to the walls
of the castle than it now does to their site, one can hardly fancy
that it came so close to the foot of the great tower that Conan could
actually fall into the water. William too conceives those
concerned――whether two or more――as standing on the top of the tower,
whence Conan is thrust down from a battlement (“propugnaculum”) to
which he clings. Orderic seems to conceive him as pushed out of a
window (“fenestra”) in one of the upper rooms “solaria”) of the tower.
It is possible however that by “fenestra” Orderic may mean the
embrasure of a battlement. There is not so much difference between the
two things as might seem at first sight. When the towers (see
Viollet-le-Duc’s Military Architecture, _passim_) were covered with
roofs fitting down on the battlements, the embrasure was in fact a
window. In no case must we fancy Henry and Conan standing together in
the open air on the top of a flat-roofed tower.
NOTE M. Vol. i. p. 274.
THE SIEGE OF COURCY.
The siege of Courcy by Duke Robert (Ord. Vit. 692) is remarkable for
some picturesque details, which are interesting in themselves, and
throw light on the times, though they do not directly concern the
history of William Rufus. I was at Courcy in 1875; but I cannot find
any notes on the castle. As far as I remember, it does not stand on
any remarkable height, and does not contain among its remains any
marked features of the eleventh century. There is however at Courcy a
remarkably fine church of the twelfth.
Among the allies who came to the help of the besieged were several
French knights, two of whom bore epithets which show that, in the days
of the chivalrous King, we are getting near to the times of chivalry.
Among the defenders of Courcy were the White Knight and the Red
Knight;
“Ad conflictus istorum convenerunt Mathæus comes de
Bellomonte et Guillelmus de Garenna, aliique plures, ut in
tali gymnasio suas ostentarent probitates. Ibi Tedbaldus
Gualeranni de Britolio filius et Guido Rubicundus occisi
sunt. Quorum prior, quia cornipes et omnia indumenta ejus
candida erant, Candidus Eques appellabatur. Sequens quoque
Rubeus, quia rubeis opertus erat, cognominabatur.”
Of these persons, the younger William of Warren, son of the elder
William and Gundrada, elder brother of the Reginald whom we have met
at Rouen, belongs to our home circle. Count Matthew of the French
Beaumont in the modern department of Oise――to be distinguished alike
from our Norman and our Cenomannian Beaumont――a kinsman of Hugh of
Grantmesnil’s wife (Ord. Vit. 691 D), appears again twice in Orderic,
836 B, 854 B, the second time at the battle of Noyon. Both times he
appears in company with his neighbour Burchard of Montmorency. Guy the
Red Knight appears in the former passage as an intended father-in-law
of the future King Lewis;
“In juventute sua Ludovicus filiam Guidonis Rubei comitis de
Rupeforti desponsavit, et hereditario jure competentem
comitatum subjugare sibi sategit. Capreosam et Montem
Leherici, et Bethilcurtem aliaque oppida obsedit, sed multis
nobilibus illi fortiter obstantibus non obtinuit, præsertim
quia Lucianam virginem quam desponsaverat Guiscardo de
Belloloco donaverat.”
This Rochefort is in the department of Seine and Oise, between
Montfort l’Amaury and Montl’hery. The redness of its Count and the
whiteness of Theobald land us in quite another state of things from
the personal whiteness and redness of Fulk the Red, Wulfward the
White, and others. We seem to be in the fourteenth century rather than
in the eleventh. But we must remember that at the battle of Noyon,
twenty-eight years later, the French knights at least had armorial
bearings (Ord. Vit. 855 B, C; see N. C. v. 189). All these things are
French to begin with; they spread from France into Normandy, and from
Normandy into England.
In this siege we meet with an instance, of which I shall have to speak
again (see Note FF), of the wooden tower employed against a fortified
place; not a moving tower, it would seem, but one of those of which we
have so often heard. Yet it is spoken of as “ingens machina quam
_berfredum_ vocitant” (Ord. Vit. 692 C, cf. 878 C). So in Will. Malms.
iv. 369, “pro lignorum penuria turris non magna, in modum ædificiorum
facta; _Berfreid_ appellant, quod fastigium murorum æquaret.” This is
the _beffroi_, whose English form of _belfry_ has got quite another
use. It was made at Christmas, seemingly by order of Robert of
Bellême. But one day, when the arch-enemy was driven back, a daring
esquire, a kind of land Kanarês, climbed into it, and set it on fire
(“Justo Dei judicio machina combusta est, quæ tyrannico jussu in
diebus sanctæ nativitatis Domini proterve fabricata est;” 693 A). We
have a story something like this in the legend of our own Hereward
(see N. C. vol. iv. p. 472). The castle being newly built, they had
not been able to build an oven inside it (“pro acceleratione
obsidionis in novo munimento construere furnum oppidanis fas non
fuerat”). They had therefore to make use of one which stood outside
the castle, commanded by the _beffroi_ (“Clibanus extra munitionem
inter machinam oppidique portam stabat, ibique panificus [surely
Eurysakês by the _Porta Maggiore_ would have liked so sounding a
title] ad subsidium inclusorum panes coquebat”). The _beffroi_ then
was not brought up immediately against the wall. There was therefore
much fighting over the loaves, and many men were killed at this
particular point. In one day’s fight twenty men were killed and many
wounded. These last had a scruple; “de panibus emptis cruore suo non
gustaverunt.” Notwithstanding the _beffroi_ and the fighting, Duke
Robert kept very bad watch; “In conspectu obsidentium commilitones
obsessorum in castellum quotidie intrabant, et armis ac alimentis _non
curante duce_ socios ne deficerent confortabantur.”
The bishop of the diocese, Gerard of Seez (1082-1091), came and took
up his quarters in the neighbourhood, in the abbey of Saint
Peter-on-Dive, and tried to bring about peace (“ut dissidentes
parrochianos suos pacificaret”); but in vain. A boy of noble birth in
the Bishop’s service (“puer quidam qui præsuli ministrabat; idem puer
Ricardus de Guaspreia, filius Sevoldi, vocitabatur”), who is
afterwards described as “clericus” and “imberbis clericus,” rides
about the camp in boyish fashion (“dum per exercitum puerili more
ludens equitabat”). The boy’s family are among those who had to defend
themselves against the devil of Bellême (“cujus parentela contra
Robertum sese jamdudum defendere totis viribus nitebatur”). So, when
young Richard appears in the camp, Robert pushes him from his horse,
puts him in prison, takes the horse to himself, and threatens his
master the Bishop (“Robertus injuriam ei [Gerardo] maximam fecit,
eumque minis contristavit. Nam puerum … ejectum de equo comprehendit
et in carcere trusit, sibique cornipedem retentavit”). The Bishop
threatens the whole army with interdict, unless his beardless clerk is
restored, which is done after a few days. The Bishop by this time is
sick; he goes to Seez and dies, January 23, 1091, in the same week,
according to Orderic (693 B), in which William Rufus crossed the sea.
His successor was the more famous Serlo, who so vigorously sheared the
locks of the Lion of Justice and his court.
The boy of high birth serving in the bishop’s household, and counted
as belonging to the clerical order――he may even have held preferment,
as “pueri canonici” were not unknown――is worth notice. The incredible
tale told by Giraldus of William Longchamp (iv. 423) at least
witnesses to the existence of “pueri nobiles ad mensam ministrantes”
in a bishop’s court.
Lastly, it must not be forgotten that it was during the siege of
Courcy, on the first day of the year 1091 (“in capite Januarii”), that
a priest of the diocese of Lisieux, Walchelm by name, saw that
wonderful vision of souls in purgatorial suffering, including many of
his personal acquaintance and several respectable prelates, for Bishop
Hugh of Lisieux and Abbot Mainer of Saint Evroul (see N. C. vol. iii.
p. 383, vol. iv. p. 655) were there also, which is told so graphically
by Orderic (693 C). A rationalistic mind may be tempted to see in the
supernatural procession another of the endless forms of the Wild
Huntsman; but a Defoe-like feeling of reality is given to the picture,
when he reads that Walchelm thought that they were the following of
Robert of Bellême going to besiege Courcy. He had gone to visit a sick
parishioner at a great distance; “unde dum solus rediret, et longe ab
hominum habitatione remotus iret, ingentem strepitum velut maximi
exercitus cœpit audire, et familiam Roberti Belesmensis putavit esse,
quæ festinaret Curceium obsidere.”
NOTE N. Vol. i. p. 275.
THE TREATY OF 1091.
On the whole, though with some hesitation, I accept Caen as the place
of the treaty between William Rufus and Robert. Orderic (693 B) places
the meeting of the brothers at Rouen; “Duo fratres Rothomagum pacifice
convenerunt, et in unum congregati, abolitis prioribus querimoniis,
pacificati sunt.” The meeting at Caen and the mediation of the King of
the French come from the Continuation of William of Jumièges (viii.
3). The passage stands in full thus;
“Facta est tandem inter eos apud Cadomum, ut diximus,
adminiculante Philippo rege Francorum, qui in auxilium ducis
contra Willelmum regem apud oppidum Auci ingenti Anglorum et
Normannorum exercitu tunc morantem venerat, qualiscumque
concordia, et quantum ad ducem Robertum spectat probrosa
atque damnosa.”
The story is here told in a hurried and inverted way, as the whole
tale is from the beginning of the chapter; but there is nothing
strictly to be called inaccurate in the story. It may be that the
mention of Philip now is merely a confusion with his former appearance
at Eu; but an intervention of Philip is not unlikely in itself; Caen
too as the place of meeting is less obvious than Rouen, and so far the
statement in favour of it is to be preferred. But the point is not of
much importance, and the evidence is fairly open to doubt.
In any case William of Malmesbury (iv. 307, 308) is mistaken in
speaking of the peace as agreed and sworn to before William crossed
into Normandy. He gives a picture of the anarchy of Normandy which is
true enough; only he seems to conceive it too much after the pattern
of the later anarchy of England. King Philip (see the passage quoted
in p. 239) has got his money and has gone back to his banquet;
“Ita bello intestino diu laboravit Normannia, modo illis,
modo istis, vincentibus; proceres utriusque furorem
incitabant, homines levissimi, in neutra parte fidem
habentes.”
Now in the days of Stephen the anarchy at least took the form of a war
between rival claimants of the crown. Men really fought for their own
hands; but they at least professed to fight for King or Empress. But
the special characteristic of the Norman anarchy is that everybody is
already fighting with everybody else, and that the invasion of the
country makes no difference, except so far as it adds a new element of
confusion. Ralph of Conches goes over to William only because Robert
fails to defend him against a local enemy; William’s name is not
mentioned at all in the war of Courcy, till his actual coming
frightens both sides alike. William of Malmesbury misses the special
point of the whole story, namely that the strife between William and
Robert stands quite distinct from the local struggles which still went
on all over the country, except when the two got intermingled at
particular points. He then adds;
“Pauci quibus sanius consilium, consulentes suis commodis
quod utrobique possessiones haberent, mediatores pacis
fuere; ut comiti rex Cinomannis adquireret, comes regi
castella quæ habebat et Fiscannum cœnobium concederet.
Juratum est hoc pactum, et ab utrorumque hominibus
sacramento firmatum. Nec multo post rex mare transiit, ut
fidem promissorum expleret.”
Florence (1091) puts the case much better;
“Mense Februario rex Willelmus junior Normanniam petiit, ut
eam fratri suo Rotberto abriperet; sed dum ibi moraretur,
pax inter eos facta est.”
* * * * *
It will be seen that William of Malmesbury gives only a very imperfect
statement of the terms of the treaty. They are nowhere so fully and
clearly given as in our own Chronicle; only the English writer is not
quite so exact with regard to the territorial cessions as those
writers who wrote in Normandy. The brothers meet――the place is not
mentioned――and agree on the terms, which are given in words which
sound like the actual words of the treaty, which was likely enough to
be set down in an English as well as a Latin copy. They stand thus;
“þæt se eorl him to handan let Uescam and þone eorldom æt
Ou, and Kiæresburh. And þærto eacan þes cynges men sæclæs
beon moston on þam castelan þe hi ær þes eorles unþances
begiten hæfdon. And se cyng him ongean þa Manige behet þa ær
heora fæder gewann, and þa fram þam eorle gebogen wæs
gebygle to donne, and eall þæt his fæder þær begeondan
hæfde, butan þam þe he þam cynge þa geunnen hæfde; and þæt
ealle þa þe on Englelande for þam eorle æror heora land
forluron hit on þisum sehte habban sceoldan and se eorl on
Englelande eallswa mycel swa on heora forewarde wæs.”
The emphatic references to his father are preeminently characteristic
of the Red King. We seem to hear his very words, the words of the
dutiful son, granting, not without some sarcasm, to the rebel, the
heritage of the father against whom he had rebelled. This emphatic
feature disappears in the other versions, even in the abridged Latin
version of Florence. To the list of places in Normandy to be given up
he adds “abbatiam in monte sancti Michaelis sitam,” and the last
words, which are certainly not very clear, he translates “et tantum
terræ quantum conventionis inter eos fuerat comiti daret.” This can
only refer to something which William was to grant to Robert as a free
gift. Domesday shows that there were no older English possessions of
Robert to be given back to him. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 629.
Besides William of Malmesbury, only the Chronicler and Florence
mention the stipulation about Maine. This is again a sign that in the
Chronicle we are dealing with an actual document. For, as nothing came
of that clause, no part of the treaty was more likely to be forgotten.
William of Malmesbury seems to have caught up the first words of the
treaty, and to have got no further. Thus Maine gets in his text an
undue prominence, which may possibly account for a statement of his
which follows, and which has nothing at all like it anywhere else. The
King and the Duke are going to attack Maine the very first thing after
the conclusion of the treaty; only they are hindered by the campaign
against Henry; “Ergo uterque dux ingentes moliebantur conatus ut
Cinomannis invaderent; sed obstitit jam paratis jamque profecturis
Henrici fratris minoris animositas.”
It may be needful to point out that the Chronicle really does mention
Maine; for Mr. Earle seems to have been the first of its editors to
find out the fact. Gibson, Ingram, and Thorpe all print “þa manige,”
with a small _m_, and explain it “the many,” “the many castles,”
“multa castella.” But, if there were no other reason, the words which
answer to it in Florence, “Cenomannicam vero provinciam,” are enough
to show that we should read with Mr. Earle “þa Manige,” the county of
Maine. The French idiom, whatever may be its origin, which, as is
always the case in Wace, adds the article to _Le_ Mans, _Le_ Maine, is
here found in English. So it is in 1099, 1110, 1111, 1112. The earlier
entry in 1073, “þæt land Mans,” is less clear.
Those who wrote in Normandy say nothing about Maine; but they more
distinctly define the cessions in Normandy itself. Thus Robert of
Torigny in his Continuation (Will. Gem. viii. 3);
“Quidquid rex Willelmus in Normannia occupaverat, _per
infidelitatem hominum ducis, qui eidem regi suas munitiones
tradiderant, quas suis militibus ipse commiserat ut inde
fratrem suum infestarent_, impune permissus est habere.
Munitiones illæ quas hoc modo tenebat fuerunt, Fiscannum,
oppidum Auci _quod Willelmus comes Aucensis cum reliquis
suis firmitatibus illi tradiderat; similiter Stephanus comes
de Albamarla, filius Odonis comitis de Campania, Willielmi
autem regis Anglorum senioris ex sorore nepos, fecerat, et
alii plures ultra Sequanam habitantes_.”
The words in Italics are the writer’s backward way of recording the
events of 1090 among the clauses of the treaty of 1091. In his own
chronicle (1091) Robert of Torigny has nothing to say, except “ut
castra illa quæ frater ab eo acquisierat regi remanerent.” This not
very clear account comes from Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 2, p. 215 ed.
Arnold), with the omission of an important word. But though Robert
mentions no particular places in his summary of the treaty, yet, in
copying Henry of Huntingdon’s account of the places occupied by
William’s troops in 1090, to Saint Valery which alone are mentioned by
Henry, he adds, not only Eu like our authorities, but also Fécamp. The
Chronicle, as we have seen, mentions Fécamp among the places which
were to be ceded to William in 1091; no one else mentions it among the
places which were occupied in 1090.
Orderic has three references to the cessions; but he nowhere mentions
either Fécamp or Saint Michael’s Mount. In his first account (693 B,
C) he says only “Robertus dux … ei [regi] Aucensem comitatum et
Albamarlam, totamque terram Gerardi de Gornaco et Radulfi de Conchis,
cum omnibus municipiis eorum eisque subjectorum concessit.” In 697 C
he says only “Robertus dux magnam partem Normanniæ Guillelmo regi
concessit.”
* * * * *
It is the Chronicle again which seems to give us the real text of the
clauses about the succession;
“And gif se eorl forðferde butan sunu be rihtre ǽwe, wære
se cyng yrfenuma of ealles Normandig. Be þisre sylfan
forewarde, gif se cyng swulte, wære se eorl yrfenuma ealles
Englalandes.”
It is perhaps worth notice that these words taken strictly do not
contemplate the possibility of William Rufus leaving children. This is
slightly altered in Florence;
“Si comes absque filio legali in matrimonio genito
moreretur, hæres ejus esset rex; _modoque per omnia simili_,
si regi contigisset mori, hæres illius fieret comes.”
Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 2, p. 215 ed. Arnold), who, as we have seen,
is followed with some changes by Robert of Torigny, seems to abridge
the account in the Chronicle. After speaking of the events of 1090, he
adds;
“Anno vero sequenti rex sequens eos concordiam cum fratre
suo fecit. Eo tamen pacto ut castra illa quæ frater ab illo
injuria acquisierat, regi remanerent, rex autem adjuvaret
eum ad omnia quæ pater suus habuerat conquirenda. Statutum
etiam, si quis eorum moreretur prior altero sine filio, quod
alter fieret hæres illius.”
A good deal of the diplomatic exactness of the Chronicle is lost here,
and it is not easy to see what castles Robert had taken from William,
unjustly or otherwise. Robert of Torigny hardly mends the matter by
leaving out the word “injuria.”
Henry is not mentioned in any account of the treaty; but his
possessions come by implication under the head of the lands which
William was to win back for Robert, with the exception of Cherbourg
and Saint Michael’s Mount――if we are right in adding the Mount on the
authority of Florence――which William was to keep for himself. The
shameful treatment of Henry by his brothers naturally calls forth a
good deal of sympathy on the part of some of our writers, though they
do not always bring out the state of the case very clearly. They speak
of his brothers refusing him a share in his father’s dominions, rather
than of their depriving him of the possessions which one of themselves
had sold to him. Hear for instance the author of the Brevis Relatio
(11), writing in Henry’s own reign;
“Concordiam adinvicem fecerunt Willelmus secundus rex Angliæ
et Robertus comes Normanniæ, et quum fratrem suum Henricum
debuissent adjuvare, eique providere ut honorabiliter inter
illos sicut frater eorum et filius regis vivere posset, non
hoc fecerunt, sed de tota terra patris sui expellere conati
sunt.”
The same words are used by Robert of Torigny, in the Continuation of
William of Jumièges, viii. 3.
William of Malmesbury (iv. 308), in a passage which follows that which
has been already cited about Maine, after the words “Henrici fratris
minoris animositas,” adds, “qui frenderet propter fratrum avaritiam,
quod uterque possessiones paternas dividerent, et se omnium pene
expertem non erubescerent.”
The treaty takes a very strange form in Matthew Paris, Hist. Angl. i.
39. The brothers are reconciled by wise friends, who say to them,
“Absit, ne Franci fraternas acies, alternaque regna profanis decertata
odiis, derideant subsannantes.” And the reason is given; “Franci enim
eo tempore multa super ducem occupaverant.” This hardly means the
Vexin; it is more likely to be a confused version of Philip’s
intervention.
* * * * *
The only writers who mention the driving out of Eadgar are the
Chronicler and Florence. The former brings it into connexion with the
treaty, without seeming to make it exactly part of the treaty itself.
Having given the clauses of the treaty, and mentioned its confirmation
by the oaths on both sides, he adds; “Onmang þisum sæhte wearð Eadgar
æþeling belandod of þam þe se eorl him æror þær to handa gelæten
hæfde.” The measure seems to have had something to do with the treaty
without being one of its clauses. Were such things as secret or
additional articles, or agreements which were to go for nothing
because they were not written on the same paper as other agreements,
known to so early a stage of diplomacy?
The Chronicler does not mention the siege of Saint Michael’s Mount;
but, immediately after the confiscation of Eadgar’s lands in Normandy,
he mentions his voyage to Scotland and the events which followed on
it. Florence puts his account of the siege of the Mount directly after
the treaty and the oaths of the twenty-four barons. He then goes on;
“At rex cum obsidionis diutinæ pertæsus fuisset, impacatus
recessit, et non multo post Eadgarum clitonem honore, quem
ei comes dederat, privavit et de Normannia expulit.” And a
little way on he speaks of “clito Eadgarus, quem rex de
Normannia expulerat.” These expressions make the treatment
of Eadgar more distinctly William’s own act than one would
infer from the words of the Chronicle, and they might
suggest that Eadgar’s Norman estates lay within the
districts which were ceded to William. But it may only mean
that Robert sent Eadgar away on William’s demand.
NOTE O. Vol. i. p. 285.
THE SIEGE OF SAINT MICHAEL’S MOUNT.
The primary account of the siege which Henry endured at the hands of
his brothers is the short one in Orderic, which I have chiefly
followed in the text. There are still shorter notices in Florence of
Worcester and in the Continuation of William of Jumièges. The shortest
of all is in the local Annals;
“1090. Obsessio montis hujus, quæ facta est a Guillelmo Rufo
rege Anglorum et a Roberto comite Normannorum, Henrico
fratre eorum in hoc monte incluso.”
There is no objection to this date, as the writer seemingly begins the
year at Easter. The accession of Harold is placed under 1065.
The account in Florence is noteworthy, as seeming to supply a reason
for the attack made by the two older brothers upon the younger. After
the treaty between William and Robert, he goes on;
“Interim germanus illorum Heinricus montem Sancti Michaelis,
ipsius loci monachis quibusdam illum adjuvantibus, cum
omnibus militibus quos habere potuit, intravit, regisque
erram vastavit, et ejus homines quosdam captivavit, quosdam
exspoliavit. Eapropter rex et comes, exercitu congregato,
per totam quadragesimam montem obsederunt, et frequenter cum
eo prœlium commiserunt, et homines et equos nonnullos
perdiderunt. At rex, cum obsidionis diutinæ pertæsus
fuisset, impacatus recessit.”
This account is true in a sense; it gives the purely military history,
except that the words “impacatus recessit” would hardly suggest
Henry’s honourable surrender. But no one would find out from
Florence’s version that Henry occupied the Mount simply as the last
spot left to him in his dominions. As a matter of warfare, it
doubtless may be said that William and Robert besieged Henry because
he occupied the Mount, and because he was, as we can well believe,
driven to harry the neighbouring lands. But he occupied the Mount and
harried the lands only because he was driven out of the rest of his
county. That Florence misunderstood the matter is plain from his use
of the words “regis terra,” which cannot apply to any land which could
be reached from the Mount.
Wace has a long account, very confused in its chronology and in the
sequence of events; but I have trusted to his local knowledge for some
topographical details. William of Malmesbury twice refers to the
siege. He tells it under the reign of Rufus (iv. 308); but seemingly
wholly for the purpose of bringing in two famous anecdotes about
William and Robert. The second time is in his sketch of Henry’s early
life (v. 392). In the first account he at least puts the siege in its
right place after the Treaty of 1091. In the second he seems,
strangely enough, to make the siege immediately follow the death of
Conan, or at least to follow Henry’s driving out of Rouen (see above,
p. 512), which he places just after Conan’s death;
“Illud fuit tempus quo, ut supra lectum est, apud montem
sancti Michaelis ambobus fratribus Henricus pro sui salute
simul et gloria restitit.”
And, as Orderic (see p. 294) is careful to insist on the wholesome
effect which the season of exile which followed had on Henry’s
character, so William insists on the wholesome effect of the siege
itself;
“Ita, cum utrique germano fuerit fidelis et efficax, illi
nullis adolescentem possessionibus dignati, ad majorem
prudentiam ævi processu penuria victualium informabant.”
The Red King’s way of schooling a brother was not quite so harsh as
that by which Gideon taught the men of Succoth; but it is essentially
of the same kind.
Nothing can be more confused than the way in which Wace brings in the
story (see Pluquet’s note, ii. 310). I have already (see above, p.
514) mentioned the course of his story up to that point. Robert,
without any help from William, has deprived Henry of the Côtentin,
while William is angry with Henry for having paid the purchase-money
to Robert. Henry then goes to the Mount (14588);
“Por sei vengier se mist el munt
U li muignes Saint Michiel sunt.”
Then, having no place of shelter anywhere, he gathers a large company
of nobles and others who serve him willingly (14598);
“N’alout mie eschariement,
Asez menout od li grant gent
Des plus nobles è des gentilz,
Mena od li freres è filz;
E tuit volentiers le servient,
Kar grant espeir en li aveient.”
He thinks of seeking a lasting shelter in Britanny; but he is
entertained by Earl Hugh at Avranches, with whom he has much talk, and
who one day counsels him to occupy the Mount and to make a castle of
the monastery. This is without any reference to the lines just quoted
in which Henry is made to have been there already. But the speech of
the Earl is well conceived (14624);
“Li munt Saint Michiel li mostra:
Veiz tu, dist-il, cele roche là;
Bel lieu è forte roche i a,
Ke jor ke noit ja ne faldra;
Flo de mer montant l’avirone,
Ki à cel lieu grant force done.”
Henry will do well to get together Bretons and mercenaries, and hold
the rock against the Normans (14625);
“Bretuns mandasse è soldéiers,
Ki gaaignassent volentiers,
Mult méisse gent en grant esfrei;
Jà Normant n’éust paiz vers mei.”
Henry adopts Hugh’s advice, rides off at once, occupies the Mount, and
sends a defiance to Robert (14646);
“Maiz Henris est sempres monté,
Et el munt est sempres alé.
Del munt Saint Michiel guerréia,
Robert son frere desfia.
Ja mez, ço dist, sa paiz n’areit,
Se son aveir ne li rendeit.”
Henry ravages the neighbouring lands (see above, p. 529, and p. 286);
then the King and the Duke come to besiege him, without any hint how
William came to be in Normandy, or how the two brothers, who were
enemies less than a hundred lines before, have now come to be allies.
It is plain that the striking event of the occupation of the Mount of
which he would hear a good deal in his childhood, if it did not
actually come within his own childish days, was strong in Wace’s
imagination, but that he took very little pains to fit the tale into
its right place in the history. It is specially hard to reconcile his
picture of the action of Earl Hugh with the facts of the case. There
is perhaps no literal contradiction. Hugh, while giving up his castles
to Robert (see p. 284), may have given Henry secret advice, and the
words of Robert of Torigny in the Continuation of William of Jumièges
(see p. 323) may be taken as implying that Henry looked on him as
having been on the whole faithful to him. But Wace could hardly have
conceived Hugh as giving up the castle of Avranches to Robert.
The ending of the siege is still more thoroughly misconceived than the
beginning. The brothers are all reconciled; Henry gets the Côtentin
back again (14740);
“De l’acordement fu la fin
K’à Henri remest Costentin,
K’en paiz l’éust tant è tenist,
Ke li Dus li suen li rendist.”
William goes back to England, whereas we know (see p. 293) that he
stayed in Normandy for six months. Robert goes to Rouen. Henry pays
off his mercenaries――out of what funds we are not told, and the other
accounts do not speak of his followers as mercenaries. He then follows
Robert to Rouen (14750);
“Henris sis soldeiers paia,
As uns pramist, as uns dona
Al terme k’il out establi;
A li Duc a Roem sui.”
There the Duke imprisons Henry; that is, the imprisonment which
happened long before (see p. 199) is moved out of its place. But Wace
cannot tell why he was imprisoned, or how it was that he was released
and made his way to France (14754);
“Ne voil avant conter ne dire
Par kel coroz ne par kele ire
Henris fu poiz a Roem pris,
E en la tur à garder mis;
Ne coment il fu delivrez,
E de la terre congéez,
E coment il ala el Rei,
Ki en France l’out poiz od sei.”
In opposition to all this, Orderic’s account of the siege, its
beginning and its ending, is perfectly straightforward, and hangs well
together. He alone puts everything in its place, and gives an
intelligible reason for everything. Robert of Torigny, in the
Continuation (viii. 3), preserves the fact that Henry surrendered on
honourable terms, but he is in rather too great a hurry to get him to
Domfront;
“Unde accidit ut quadam vice ipsum obsidione cingerent in
monte sancti Michaelis. Sed illis ibidem incassum diu
laborantibus, et _ad ultimum inter se dissidentibus_, comes
Henricus inde libere exiens oppidum munitissimum nomine
Danfrontem sagacitate cujusdam indigenæ suscepit.”
The words in Italics may perhaps refer to the story about the water;
but William and Robert were in any case sure to quarrel about
something. And it was quite in William’s character to get tired of a
fifteen days’ siege, as he is represented both here and by Florence
(see p. 292); only Florence is not justified in saying that at once
“impacatus rediit.” William of Malmesbury too (iv. 310) tells his
story about the water, and then adds;
“Ita rex, deridens mansueti hominis ingenium, resolvit
prælium; infectaque re quam intenderat, quod eum Scottorum
et Walensium tumultus vocabant, in regnum se cum ambobus
fratribus recepit.”
On these last words, which are so startling at first sight, I have
spoken in the next Note.
* * * * *
The two anecdotes of William and Robert seem, in William of
Malmesbury’s first account (iv. 308), to be his chief or only reason
for mentioning the siege at all;
“In ea obsidione præcluum specimen morum in rege et comite
apparuit; in altero mansuetudinis, in altero magnanimitatis.
Utriusque exempli notas pro legentium notitia affigam.”
Then come the two stories “De Magnanimitate Willelmi” and “De
Mansuetudine comitis Roberti,” which I have told in the text after
him. Both of them are also told by Wace; that is, if the story “De
Magnanimitate Willelmi” is really the same story as the corresponding
story in Wace. Every detail is different; but both alike set before us
the self-confidence of the Red King. In this version he is unhorsed
and wounded; but he keeps hold of his saddle, and fights on foot with
his sword (14672);
“E li reis i fa abatuz,
De plusors lances fu féruz.
Li peitral del cheval rompi
E li dui cengles altresi;
Od sa sele li reis chaï,
Maiz bien la tint, ne la perdi,
Delivre fu, en piez sailli;
Od s’espée se desfendi,
Unkes la sele ne leissa,
Bien la tint è bien la garda.”
We hear nothing of any discourse with Henry’s followers, nothing of
any dealings with the knight who had unhorsed him. But he calls to his
vassals, Normans and English, who do not appear in the other story,
but who in this press to his help, and, after many blows, take him off
safely;
“Tant cria chevaliers léals,
Ke la presse vint des vassals,
E li Normanz le secorurent
E li Engleiz ki od li furent,
Maiz maint grant colp unt recéu
Ainz k’il l’éussent secoru.
Mené l’en unt à salveté.”
Then his own men, not those of Henry, talk merrily with him about his
defence of his saddle. He answers in the like strain, telling them
that it is a shame if a man cannot keep his own, and that it would
have grieved him if any Breton had boasted that he had carried off his
saddle;
“Poiz unt li reis asez gabé
De la sele k’il desfendeit,
E des granz colps ke il soffreit.
E li reis diseit en riant
K’il debveit estre al suen garant;
Hunte est del suen perdre è guerpir;
Tant com l’en le pot garantir:
Pesast li ke Brez s’en vantast
De la sele k’il emportast.”
If this is the same story as that in William of Malmesbury, it is a
very inferior version of it. Lappenberg (Geschichte von England, ii.
172) takes the two for distinct stories and tells them separately.
(See above, p. 503.) But it is strange that his translator (p. 232)
should tell both stories after his original, should give the reference
to Wace, and should then, at the end of William’s story, remark,
giving the same reference again――“Wace gives a version of the
occurrence totally different from the above as related by Malmesbury.”
The “Normanz” and “Engleiz” of Wace appear in Lappenberg as “Normannen
und Angelsachsen.” This involves the old question about the force of
the word “Angli,” which is very hard to answer at this particular
stage. In a narrative actually written in 1091, I should certainly
understand the words as Lappenberg does, and should see in the
“Engleiz” men of the type of Tokig son of Wiggod and Robert son of
Godwine. But, as Wace, if he were already born in 1091, did not write
till many years after, it is more likely that we ought to take the
words “Normanz” and “Engleiz” in the sense which they took in the
course of Henry the First’s reign. That is, by “Normanz” we should
understand those only who were “natione Normanni,” and by “Engleiz”
all who were “natione Angligenæ,” even though many of them were
“genere Normanni.” See N. C. vol. v. p. 828.
Whatever we make of the relations between the two stories, the
reference to the “Brez” in Wace’s version has a very genuine ring.
That name came much more home in Jersey, or even at Bayeux, than it
did in Wiltshire.
The story “De Mansuetudine comitis Roberti” connects itself with the
fact stated by Orderic――who does not tell either of the anecdotes――that
the besieged really did suffer for want of water (see p. 292). William
of Malmesbury, whom I have followed in the text, tells the story
straightforwardly enough from that point of view. Wace does casually
speak of the water, but his main thought is of wine (see p. 291).
Henry thus states his case to Robert (14704);
“Quant Henris out lunges soffert,
Soef manda al Duc Robert,
Ke de vin aveit desirier,
D’altre chose n’aveit mestier.”
Robert then sends him the tun of wine, of the best they have in the
host, and throws in a truce to take water daily seemingly of his own
free will (14712);
“E tot li jor a otréié
E par trièves doné congié,
Ke cil del munt ewe préissent,
E li munt d’ewe garnessissent,
U k’il volsissent la préissent
Séurement, rien ne cremissent.
Dunc veissez servanz errer,
Et à veissels ewe aporter.”
The King is angry at all this, and sets forth his principles of
warfare (14729);
“Il les déust fere afamer
E il les faisoit abevrer.”
He is inclined to give up the siege (“Del siege volt par mal torner”);
but he listens to Robert’s excuse;
“Torné me fust à félonie,
E joféisse vilanie
De li néer beivre è viande,
Quant il méisme le demande.”
Here we have nothing of the argument in William of Malmesbury, an
argument essentially the same as that which is so thoroughly in place
in the mouth of the wife of Intaphernes in Herodotus (iii. 119), and
so thoroughly out of place in the mouth of the Antigonê of Sophoklês
(892). But the words are very like those which we shall find Wace
putting into the mouth of Robert at a later time. (See 15456, and vol.
ii. p. 406.)
NOTE P. Vol. i. p. 293.
THE ADVENTURES OF HENRY AFTER THE SURRENDER OF SAINT MICHAEL’S MOUNT.
That Henry was in possession of Domfront in 1094 is certain from the
witness of the Chronicle under that year; “Se cyng W. sende æfter his
broðer Heanrige, se wæs on þam castele æt Damfront.” But we have no
hint when he got possession of it. Florence has no mention of Henry
between his account of the siege of Saint Michael’s Mount――from which
William “impacatus recessit”――and his election as king. William of
Malmesbury (see p. 293) brings him to England with William and Robert
in August 1091. As I have already said, such is William of
Malmesbury’s carelessness of chronology that I should not have
ventured to accept this statement on his showing only. But it has a
piece of the very strongest corroborative evidence in the form of the
Durham charter of which I have spoken in the text (see p. 305). This
is the one which is printed at p. xxii of the volume of the Surtees
Society called “Historiæ Dunelmensis Scriptores Tres,” a document
which has every sign of genuineness. It is a grant by Bishop William
of the churches of Northallerton, Sigston, and Brunton to the convent
of Durham, and confirms the picture given by Simeon (see p. 508) of
William Rufus as a benefactor to Durham;
“Hæc omnia, præcipiente domino meo Willielmo rege, domini
mei magni regis Willielmi filio, feci, qui Alvertonescire
sancto Cuthberto et episcopis ejus in perpetuum dedit. Has
vero ecclesias monachis sancto Cuthberto servituris pro
salute animæ suæ dedit, et mihi donare præcepit.”
I have shown that the deed must belong to a time after the
pacification with Malcolm, but before Christmas, 1091. At no other
time could we have had the signatures of Robert and Eadgar, nor
probably that of Duncan. And the signature of Henry shows that William
of Malmesbury is right, and that Henry was in England at this time.
There was then some assembly held in the autumn of 1091, and that
seemingly at Durham or somewhere in the North. Its object would
probably be to confirm the treaty with Malcolm. Indeed, except a few
bishops and abbots, most of the men who sign would naturally be in the
camp. The signatures are in two columns. That to the right contains
the names of Bishop William, King William (signum Willielmi regis
secundi), his brothers (signum Rodberti fratris regis, signum Henrici
fratris regis), Robert Bloet (Roberti cancellarii regis cognomento
Bloet), Duncan (Dunechani filii regis Malcolmi), Earl Roger, Randolf
Flambard (Ranulphi thessarii――thesaurarii?), three local priests,
Merewine (Mervini), Eglaf (Ælavi; in another document, p. xx, we get
the dwelling-places of these priests, Eglaf of Bethlington and
Merewine of Chester――that is of course Chester-le-Street), and Orm,
Robert “dispensator regis” (see p. 331), Siward Barn, and Arnold of
Percy. The left-hand column contains Archbishop Thomas, the Bishops
Remigius of Lincoln, Osmund of Salisbury, and John of Bath, the Abbots
Guy of Saint Augustine’s, Baldwin of Saint Eadmund’s, and Stephen of
Saint Mary’s at York, Earl Hugh, Philip son of Earl Roger, Earl
Robert, “signum Eadgari clitonis,” Roger Bigod, “signum Morealis
vicecomitis,” William Peverel, “signum Gileberti dapiferi.”
This list, though singular and startling, is perfectly possible. This
cannot be said of some of those in the same volume. Thus in the
document just before this one, John Bishop of Bath is made to sign in
the time of the Conqueror, and in that which follows (p. xxvii),
Lanfranc and Abbot Ælfsige are made to sign in 1093.
The evidence of this charter, combined with the notice in William of
Malmesbury, seems conclusive. Henry was in England during part of
1091. We therefore cannot accept the obvious meaning of Orderic’s
story which makes Henry a wanderer from the time of the surrender of
the Mount till his reception at Domfront. In this version he leaves
the Mount, and spends two years, or somewhat less, in a very poor case
(697 B);
“Per Britanniam transiit, Britonibus, qui sibi solummodo adminiculum
contulerant, gratias reddidit, et confines postmodum Francos expetiit.
In pago Vilcassino nobilis exsul non plenis duobus annis commoratus,
diversa hospitia quæsivit. Uno tantum milite unoque clerico cum tribus
armigeris contentus pauperem vitam exegit.”
In another place (698 C) we find a date given to the occupation of
Domfront, and a duration assigned to Henry’s wanderings, which at
first sight seems not to agree with this version;
“Anno ab incarnatione Domini MXCII. Indictione XV. Henricus
Guillelmi regis filius Danfrontem oppidum, auxilio Dei
suffragioque amicorum, obtinuit, et inde fortiter
hereditarium jus calumniari sategit. Nam idem, dum esset
junior, non ut frater a fratribus habitus est, sed magis ut
externus, exterorum, id est Francorum et Britonum, auxilia
quærere coactus est, et quinque annis diversorum eventuum
motibus admodum fatigatus est. Tandem Danfrontani nutu Dei
ærumnis tam præclari exsulis compassi sunt, et ipsum ad se
de Gallia accersitum per Harecherium honorifice susceperunt,
et, excusso Roberti de Belesmo, a quo diu graviter oppressi
fuerant, dominio, Henricum sibi principem constituerunt.
Ille vero contra Robertum Normanniæ comitem viriliter arma
sumpsit, incendiis et rapinis expulsionis suæ injuriam
vindicavit, multosque cepit et carceri mancipavit.”
The five years mentioned in the above extract must be meant to take in
all Henry’s adventures, lucky and unlucky, from the death of his
father in 1087 to his settlement at Domfront in 1092. From his
surrender of the Mount in February 1091 to his settlement at Domfront
Orderic makes, as we have seen, somewhat less than two years; that is,
Henry came to Domfront quite at the end of 1092.
In 706 C (under 1094, see p. 319) he says;
“Henricus Guillelmi Magni regis Anglorum filius Danfrontem
possidebat, et super Robertum [de Belesmo], cui præfatum
castellum abstulerat, imo super fratres suos regem et ducem
guerram faciebat, a quibus extorris de cespite paterno
expulsus fuerat.”
In 722 D he says;
“Henricus frater ducis Danfrontem fortissimum castrum
possidebat, et magnam partem Neustriæ sibi favore vel armis
subegerat, fratrique suo ad libitum suum, nec aliter,
obsecundabat.”
This is in 1095, and it is meant as a summary of Henry’s course up to
that year. Lastly, the promise of Henry never to give up Domfront to
any other master comes quite incidentally in Orderic’s account (788 B)
of the treaty between Robert and Henry in 1101 (see vol. ii. p. 413).
By that treaty Henry ceded to Robert everything that he held in
Normandy “præter Danfrontem.” The reason for the exception is added;
“Solum Danfrontem castrum sibi retinuit, quia Danfrontanis,
quando illum intromiserunt, jurejurando pepigerat quod
numquam eos de manu sua projiceret nec leges eorum vel
consuetudines mutaret.”
This is Orderic’s account, in which I see no difficulty at all in
accepting all that concerns Domfront. Henry was in England late in
1091; but he may have been in France or anywhere else late in 1092.
And Henry may have had a time of distress and wandering in the Vexin,
either between March and August 1091 or at any time in 1092. Where
Orderic goes wrong, it is through forgetting Henry’s visit to England
in 1091, which was of no importance to his story. He therefore
naturally spreads the season of wandering in the Vexin over the whole
time from the surrender of the Mount early in 1091 to the occupation
of Domfront late in 1092.
* * * * *
Robert of Torigny, in the Continuation of William of Jumièges (viii.
3), is in a still greater hurry to get Henry to Domfront (see above,
p. 532). The passage, as far as it concerns the relations between
Henry and Domfront, runs thus;
“Comes Henricus, inde [from the Mount] libere exiens,
oppidum munitissimum nomine Danfrontem sagacitate cujusdam
indigenæ suscepit. Indignabatur enim prædictus indigena,
utpote vir nobilis et dives, oppressiones amplius perpeti
quas Robertus de Belismo, homo ferox et mentis inhumanæ,
sibi et aliis convicaneis inferebat, qui tunc temporis illud
castrum possidebat. Quod tanta diligentia Henricus exinde
custodivit ut usque ad terminum vitæ illius in suo dominio
habuerit.”
The “indigena nobilis et dives” of this account is of course the same
as the Harecherius of Orderic. And the statement that Henry kept
Domfront all his days agrees with Orderic’s statement about his
promise. Wace (14762-14773) gives us some, perhaps legendary, details
of the way in which Henry was brought from Paris――from the French
Vexin, one would have thought, from Orderic’s account――to Domfront;
but he is clearly wrong in making any Robert, whether the Duke or him
of Bellême, turn Henry out of Domfront;
“Ne coment Haschier le trova
A Paris donc il l’amena,
_Ki se fist un des oilz péier,
Ke l’en nel’ péust encercier_,
Ne voil dire par kel savoir
Haschier li fist Danfront aveir,
Ne coment il fu recéuz
Quant il fu à Danfront venuz,
Ne coment il cunquist Passeiz
E le toli as Belesmeiz;
Ne coment Robert le cunquist,
E de Danfront partir le fist.”
The covering of one of Henry’s eyes with pitch by way of disguise may
be believed or not; but the “savoir” of Haschier answers to the
“sagacitas” of the “indigena nobilis et dives.” Passeiz, Passais (see
Pluquet, Wace, ii. 319; Neustria Pia, p. 423), is the district which
contains Domfront and the abbey of Lonlay, a district which lay in the
ancient diocese of Le Mans, but which was added to Normandy by
William’s conquest.
This name “Haschier” or “Harecherius” is supposed by Le Prévost
(Pluquet, ii. 319) to be the same name as “Achardus,” the name of one
of the witnesses to the foundation charter of Lonlay abbey in 1026. He
signs as “Achardus dives, miles de Donnifronte.” This document is
contained in an _inspeximus_ of Peter, Count of Alençon (1361-1377),
contained in an _inspeximus_ of Henry, King of France and England
about 1423 (Neustria Pia, p. 424). The founder is the old William of
Bellême, father of William Talvas and grandfather of Mabel. There is a
certain interest in a document relating to Domfront and Lonlay before
they became Norman, when lands there could be granted “usque in
Normaniæ commarchiam.” Among the signatures are those of the founder’s
brother Avesgaud Bishop of Le Mans (994-1036, see N. C. vol. iii. p.
191), Siegfried Bishop of Seez (1007-1026), the founder and his wife,
“Guillelmus princeps [in the body of the document he is “Guillelmus
Bellismensis, provinciæ principatum gerens”] et Mathildis uxor ejus,”
and this “Achardus _dives_” whom Le Prevost takes for a forefather of
the “indigena nobilis et _dives_.”
Orderic says that Henry obtained Domfront “suffragio amicorum.” Robert
of Torigny, in the next chapter of his Continuation (viii. 4), tells
us who his friends a little later were. He is established at Domfront;
then we read;
“Redeunte Willelmo rege in Angliam, Henricus haud segniter
comitatum Constantiniensem, qui sibi fraudulentia ante
præreptus fuerat, _consensu Willelmi regis_ et auxilio
Richardi de Revers et Rogerii de Magna-villa, ex majori
parte in ditionem suam revocavit.”
He then goes on with the passage about Earl Hugh and the grant of
Saint James to him, quoted in p. 323.
I think that this distinct assertion that Henry was now in William’s
favour outweighs the vague expressions of Orderic about Henry making
war on both his brothers. By 1093, the earliest date for these
exploits, William was again scheming against Robert, and his obvious
policy would be to ally himself with Henry.
Henry, as we have seen in the extracts from Orderic, carried on war in
the usual fashion. But he at least treated his prisoners better than
Robert of Bellême did. We have (698 D) a picture of one Rualedus――a
Breton Rhiwallon, or what?――who is carried off from the lands of Saint
Evroul to the castle of Domfront. It was winter; but he was not left
to die of cold and hunger for Count Henry’s amusement; we see him
sitting comfortably by the fire (“quum sederet ad focum; hiems enim
erat”). On the road he had fallen from the horse on which he was tied,
and had suffered some hurt. But, after prayer to Saint Evroul,
followed by a comforting dream, he wakes, and, as his keeper’s back is
turned, he gets up, unbars the door, walks into the garden, and, after
some further adventures, gets back to Saint Evroul. He was a man
“legitimus et laudabilis vitæ;” so Orderic, who heard the story from
his own mouth, believes it. There seems no reason why anybody should
disbelieve it; as the only part of the tale which sounds at all
incredible is the very bad guard which Henry’s men kept over their
prisoner.
NOTE Q. Vol. i. p. 302.
THE HOMAGE OF MALCOLM IN 1091.
The account of Malcolm’s homage to William Rufus which is given by
Orderic (701 A) is treated with some contempt by Mr. E. W. Robertson
(Scotland under her Early Kings, i. 142), while it is naturally not
forgotten by Sir Francis Palgrave (English Commonwealth, ii.
cccxxxii). The main fact of the homage itself, paid to the second
William on the same terms on which it had been paid to the first, is
abundantly proved by the Chronicle. Nothing is gained by disproving at
this stage the exaggerated account of Robert’s expedition in 1080
which is to be found in the local History of Abingdon (see N. C. vol.
iv. pp. 671, 790). The only question is, whether, accepting the
general fact from the Chronicle, we can or cannot accept any of the
very curious details with which Orderic tells the story.
First of all, while Orderic’s geography is right, his topography is
wrong. The mention of the “magnum flumen quod _Scotte watra_ dicitur”
must come from some genuine source. “Ordericus Angligena” heard the
tale from some one who told it him in English. And, if there could be
the shadow of a doubt, this shows that “Loðene” in the Chronicle means
Lothian, and nothing else. Mr. Burton (Hist. Scot. i. 412) insists on
carrying Malcolm to Leeds; but he cannot make the Aire to be the
“Scotte watra.” But Orderic, who plainly got his account from some
quite different source from the Chronicler, failed to take in the
actual position of the two armies. He failed to see that Malcolm,
having crossed the Scots’ Water into Lothian and therefore into
England, was necessarily on the south side of the Scots’ Water. He
fancied that the two kings were on opposite sides of the firth.
William reaches the Scots’ Water; “sed, quia inaccessibilis transitus
erat, super ripam consedit. Rex autem Scottorum e regione cum
legionibus suis ad bellandum paratus constitit.” So he doubtless did;
only they were both south of the water. The Chronicle shows plainly
that Malcolm, as soon as he heard of William’s coming, determined that
the invader should not, as his father had done, cross into the proper
Scotland to Abernethy or elsewhere, but that he would meet him, for
peace or for war, in the English part of his dominions.
This topographical confusion does not affect the main story, nor does
it greatly matter whether the picturesque details of Robert’s visit to
Malcolm literally happened or not. It is further plain that Orderic
has left out one of the two mediators, namely Eadgar. But he records
the main fact of the homage no less than the Chronicler. The question
is whether we can accept the curious conversation between Robert and
Malcolm, in which Malcolm makes two statements, which are perhaps a
little startling in themselves, which are not mentioned elsewhere, but
which certainly do not contradict what we find elsewhere.
First, Malcolm asserts that King Eadward gave him the earldom of
Lothian, seemingly as the dowry of Margaret; “Fateor quod rex
Eduardus, dum mihi Margaritam proneptem suam in conjugium tradidit,
Lodonensem comitatum mihi donavit.” Now it is certainly true that King
Eadward, or Earl Siward in his name, gave Malcolm the earldom of
Lothian; only he gave him something else too, namely the kingdom of
Scotland. And I have mentioned elsewhere (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 785)
that a betrothal of Margaret to Malcolm, when Malcolm received the
kingdom from Siward, though recorded nowhere else, is perfectly
possible.
Secondly, Malcolm’s strong point is that he does owe a homage to
Robert, but that he owes none to William. This he asserts in his first
message; “Tibi, rex Guillelme, nihil debeo, nisi conflictum si a te
injuriis lacessitus fuero. Verum si Robertum primogenitum Guillelmi
regis filium videro, illi exhibere paratus sum quicquid debeo.”
Afterwards, in his conference with Robert, he is made to say, after
mentioning Eadward’s grant of Lothian, “Deinde Guillelmus rex quod
antecessor ejus mihi dederat concessit, et me tibi primogenito suo
commendavit. Unde quod tibi promisi conservabo. Sed fratri tuo nihil
promisi et nihil debeo. Nemo, ut Christus ait, potest duobus dominis
servire.” To this Robert agrees; “Ut asseris, ita est. Sed mutationes
rerum factæ sunt, et statuta patris mei a pristina soliditate in
multum vacillaverunt.” I do not know that a homage of Malcolm to
Robert is recorded anywhere else, unless we so understand the confused
Abingdon story about the expedition of 1080. But nothing was more
likely than that William the Conqueror should at Abernethy call on
Malcolm to pledge himself, as was so often done, not only to himself
but to his son after him. In 1072 there could have been no reason for
looking to any one but Robert as the probable successor; least of all
could any one have thought of William the Red. He was not even the
second son, as Richard was still alive. And the time when King William
renewed the gift of his predecessor Eadward must surely be the day of
Abernethy, and none other.
There is then really nothing in Orderic’s story which gainsays any
known facts, and it is hard to see what should have made him think of
a betrothal of Margaret, a homage to Robert, and the rest, unless he
had some ground for them. And the general argument put into Malcolm’s
mouth seems exactly in place. It is of a piece with the arguments of
Scottish disputants long after Orderic’s day. Something is admitted,
that something is perhaps specially insisted on, in order to avoid the
admission of something else. Lothian is the special personal gift of
Eadward to Malcolm himself, though it is certain, on any view of the
cession of Lothian, that predecessors of Malcolm had held it of
predecessors of Eadward. That gift of Eadward, renewed by William the
Great, is allowed to carry with it a personal duty to William the
Great and to his personal heir. But the denial of any duty to William
the Red implicitly denies any duty to the King of the English as such.
Still this question is in words left open; so is all that relates to
the proper Scotland left open. Malcolm at last consents to do homage
to William for something; but, in Orderic’s story at least, it is not
very clear for what. (The Chronicler, we may be sure, felt so certain
of its being for Scotland that he did not think it needful to say so.)
All this is exactly like later controversies on the same subject. When
the two kingdoms were on friendly terms, it often suited both sides
that the homage should be general, leaving it open to each side to
assert its own doctrine the next time there should be any dispute (see
N. C. vol. v. p. 209). And we must remember that by this time it is
quite possible that Rufus might make claims which Malcolm would, on
the principles of an earlier time, do quite right in refusing.
Strictly feudal ideas were growing, and when a King of the English
demanded homage for the kingdom of Scotland, he may well have meant
more than had been meant when the king and people of the Scots sought
Eadward the Unconquered to father and lord. Certainly, when the whole
thing had stiffened into a question of ordinary feudal law, Edward the
First, if judged by the standard of the tenth century, asked more than
his historic rights over Scotland, less than his historic rights over
Lothian. See Historical Essays, Series I. p. 65; N. C. vol. i. p. 128.
* * * * *
I am therefore inclined to believe that Orderic has, in this case, as
in some others, incidentally preserved facts of which we have no
record elsewhere. But I am not anxious strongly to insist upon this.
The general course of the history is the same, whether Margaret had or
had not been betrothed to Malcolm before his marriage――or whatever it
was――with Ingebiorg; it is the same whether Malcolm had or had not
done an act of homage to Robert. And I must allow that, as Orderic has
misunderstood some points at the beginning of the story, so he has
more thoroughly misunderstood some points at the end of the story. For
he makes Malcolm go into England――Florence would have said into
Wessex――with William and Robert; “Deinde reges agmina sua remiserunt,
et ipsi simul in Angliam profecti sunt.” This comes, as we shall
presently see, from rolling together the events of the years 1091 and
1093.
* * * * *
The twelve “villæ” which, according to Florence, were to be restored
to Malcolm are, I suppose, the same as the “mansiones” which the kings
of Scots are said to have held in England in times both earlier and
later than those with which we are dealing. This comes from Roger of
Wendover’s account (i. 416; cf. N. C. vol. i. p. 584) of the grant of
Lothian by Eadgar to Kenneth. It was given “hac conditione, ut annis
singulis in festivitatibus præcipuis, quando rex et ejus successores
diadema portarent, venirent ad curiam, et cum cæteris regni
principibus festum cum lætitia celebrarent; dedit insuper ei rex
mansiones in itinere plurimas, ut ipse et ejus successores ad festum
venientes ac denuo revertentes hospitari valuissent, quæ usque in
tempora regis Henrici secundi in potestate regum Scotiæ remanserunt.”
The slighter mention in Florence gives some confirmation to the story
in Roger. And though it was not likely that the King of Scots, or even
the Earl of Lothian, should regularly attend at the great festivals,
yet it was doubtless held that it was the right thing that he should
do so; and we find Malcolm himself coming to the King’s court not long
after (see vol. ii. p. 13), and his son Eadgar after him (see vol. ii.
p. 265).
* * * * *
There is not much to be got from the other writers. William of
Malmesbury twice refers to the matter, but as usual without much
regard to chronology. It is seemingly this submission of Malcolm to
which he refers in iii. 250, where, having said that Malcolm, in the
days of the elder William, “incertis et sæpe fractis fœderibus ævum
egit,” adds “filio Willelmi Willelmo regnante, simili modo impetitus,
falso sacramento abegit.” He must also refer to this time in iv.
310-311, where he says that, after the siege of Saint Michael’s Mount,
he went back to England, “quod eum Scottorum et Walensium tumultus
vocabant.” There was (see vol. ii. pp. 78, 79) a considerable
“Walensium tumultus” this year; but it does not seem that the King
himself did anything in those parts till later in his reign. William
however says;
“Primo contra Walenses, post in Scottos, expeditionem
movens, nihil magnificentia sua dignum exhibuit, militibus
multis desideratis, jumentis interceptis.”
He then goes on to speak more at large of Welsh matters, and comes
back to speak of the action of Robert in Scotland (see p. 301). The
old friendship which he there speaks of between Malcolm and Robert
falls in with Orderic’s story, and specially with Orderic’s way of
telling it. We shall hear of it again in Notes BB, EE.
Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 2, p. 216) tells the story thus;
“Interea Melcolm rex Scotorum prædatum veniens in Angliam
validissime vexavit eam. Venientes igitur in Angliam rex, et
cum eo Robertus frater suus, direxerunt acies in Scotiam.
Itaque Melcolm, nimio terrore perstrictus, homo regis
effectus est et juramento fidelitatis ei subjectus.” Matthew
Paris (Hist. Angl. i. 40) has a wonderful version in which
the invasion is altogether left out. Malcolm, hearing of the
peace between the brothers, begins to fear for his own
kingdom. He therefore comes to William and makes a very
humble homage indeed; “Veniens ad regem Angliæ Willelmum,
humilitate sua regis flexit ferocitatem, asserens se nullum
hostium suorum receptasse vel recepturum fore, nisi tali
intentione, ut ipsos dominum suum recognoscentes, regi,
persuasionibus suis mediantibus, redderet pacificatos et
fideliores.”
NOTE R. Vol. i. p. 313.
THE EARLDOM OF CARLISLE.
It is certainly a singular fact that, so lately as 1873, a long
controversy raged in the Times newspaper as to the reason why
Cumberland and Westmoreland were not surveyed in Domesday. The dispute
was kept up for some time among men who seemed to have some local
knowledge; but, till Dr. Luard kindly stepped in to set them right,
every reason was guessed at but the true one. No one seemed to grasp
the simple facts, that no part of England was known at the time of the
Survey by the name Cumberland or Westmoreland――that so much of the
shires now bearing those names as then formed part of the kingdom of
England is surveyed under the head of Yorkshire――that the reason why
the rest is left unsurveyed is because it formed no part of the
kingdom of England. The whole matter had long before been thoroughly
sifted and set right by two local writers, who, I am tempted to
suspect, were only one writer; yet the received local confusions were
just as strong as ever.
The general history of Cumberland, and of this part of it in
particular, was very minutely examined in the Introduction to the
volume published in 1847 by the Society of Antiquaries of
Newcastle-upon-Tyne under the name of “The Pipe-Rolls or Sheriffs’
Annual Accounts of the Revenues of the Crown for the Counties of
Cumberland, Westmorland, and Durham, during the Reigns of Henry II,
Richard I, and John.” After this, in 1859, a paper was read by Mr.
Hodgson Hinde at the Carlisle meeting of the Archæological Institute,
“On the Early History of Cumberland,” which appeared in the
Archæological Journal, vol. xvi. p. 217. These two essays have pretty
well exhausted the piece of Cumbrian history with which I have now to
deal, and they contain a great deal more with which I am not
concerned.
* * * * *
The word _Cumberland_, I need not say, is a word of many meanings, and
at the present moment we have not to do with any of them. We have to
do only with the city and earldom of _Carlisle_, which does not answer
to Cumberland in either the older or the later sense. The confusion
which has immediately to be got rid of is the notion that Carlisle and
its district already formed an English earldom in the time of the
Conqueror. Thus we read in Sir Francis Palgrave (English Commonwealth,
i. 449);
“‘Cumberland’――for we must now call the Dominion by its
modern appellation――was, as I have observed, retained by the
Conqueror; Malcolm had invaded the country; but he could not
defend the territory against William, who granted Cumberland
to Ranulph de Meschines, one of his Norman followers; and
the border Earldom became wholly assimilated, in its
political character, to the other great baronies of
England…. Carlisle was always excepted from these grants.
The city, and the territory of fifteen miles in circuit, had
become English by Ecgfrid’s donation, and probably was
always held, either by the Kings or Earls of Bernicia or of
Northumbria. Little further is known concerning ‘merry
Carlisle,’ the seat of Arthur’s chivalry. Until the reign of
William Rufus, this city, desolated by the Danes, was almost
void of inhabitants. William completed the restoration of
its walls and towers, which his father had begun.”
This comes primarily from a passage in the so-called Matthew of
Westminster under the year 1072;
“Rex Gulihelmus cum grandi exercitu Scotiam ingressus est,
et obviavit ei pacifice Malcolmus rex Scotorum apud Barwicum
et homo suus devenit. His temporibus regebat comitatum
Carleoli comes Ranulphus de Micenis, qui efficax auxilium
præbuit regi Gulihelmo in conquestu suo Angliæ. Hic urbem
Carleoli cœpit ædificare, et cives ejusdem plurimis
privilegiis munire. Sed rediens rex Gulihelmus a Scotia per
Cumbriam, videns tam regale municipium, abstulit illud a
Ranulpho comite, et dedit illi pro eo comitatum Cestriæ,
multis honoribus privilegiatum. Carleolum vero precepit rex
Gulihelmus turribus propugnaculisque muniri firmissimis. Rex
vero Gulihelmus Conquestor in redeundo de Scotia apud
Dunelmum novum ibidem construxit castellum contra
irruptiones Scotorum.”
There is also printed in the Monasticon, vol. iii. p. 584, a
genealogical document called “Chronicon Cumbriæ,” which comes from the
Register of Wetheral priory. This begins by saying that
“Rex Willielmus, cognomine Bastardus, dux Normanniæ,
conquestor Angliæ, dedit totam terram de comitatu Cumbriæ
Ranulpho de Meschines, et Galfrido fratri ejusdem Ranulphi
totum comitatum Cestriæ, et Willielmo fratri eorundem terram
de Copland, inter Duden et Darwent.”
The source of error here is that Matthew of Westminster, so to call
him, mixed up the Scottish expedition of the Conqueror in 1072 with
the Scottish expedition of William Rufus in 1091, and made the
restoration of Carlisle a work of the father and not of the son. He
also brings in Earl Randolf, with whom we are not as yet concerned;
but it is to be noticed that he says nothing about an earldom of
_Cumberland_, but speaks only of an earldom of _Carlisle_. It is only
in the Wetheral document that an earldom of _Cumberland_ is carried
back to the days of the Conqueror. Sir Francis Palgrave failed to
notice this distinction; but he knew his books far too well to pass by
the entries in the Chronicle and Florence under 1092. He therefore
tried to reconcile them with the passages in Matthew of Westminster
and the Wetheral chronicle by supposing an earldom of Cumberland which
did not take in Carlisle and its district. The error and its source
were first pointed out by Lappenberg (ii. 175 of the German original,
p. 234 of Mr. Thorpe’s Anglo-Norman Kings, where, as usual, some of
Lappenberg’s notes and references are left out). Lappenberg notices
the difference between Matthew’s story and Palgrave’s; he suggests
that Matthew has further confounded the events of 1072 and 1092 with
those of 1122; and he gives a summary of the whole matter in the
words;
“Wichtig aber ist es wahrzunehmen, dass erst Rufus und nicht
sein Vater Cumberland zu einer wirklichen Provinz des
normannischen Englands machte.”
Here is the root of the matter, so far as we have got rid of the
notion of the Conqueror having done anything at Carlisle or
thereabouts. Still Lappenberg should not have spoken, as I myself
ought not to have spoken (N. C. vol. v. p. 118), of _Cumberland_ now
becoming an English earldom. The district with which we are concerned
forms only a very small part of the old kingdom of Cumberland, while
it does not answer to the modern county of Cumberland, which does not
appear by that name till 1177 (see Pipe Rolls of Cumberland, p. 18;
Archæological Journal, xvi. 230). The land with which we are concerned
bears the name of the city. It is the land and earldom, not of
_Cumberland_, but of _Carlisle_.
The point to be clearly taken in is that the district with which we
are concerned was not part of England till 1092; more accurately
still, it ceased to be part of England in 685, and became so again in
1092. For those four centuries, Carlisle, city and district, had as
much or as little to do with England as the lands immediately to the
north of it, the lands which formed that part of Cumberland in the
wider sense which became in the end part of the kingdom of Scotland.
This district of Carlisle does not answer to any modern shire, and it
is of course not surveyed in Domesday. But it does answer to the
diocese of Carlisle, as it stood before late changes. That diocese
took in part of modern Cumberland and part of modern Westmoreland. The
rest of those shires, with Lancashire north of Ribble and the
wapentake of Ewecross (Pipe Rolls, p. xlii), formed the Domesday
district of Agemundreness (see Domesday, 301 _b_), forming part of
Yorkshire, as it formed part of York diocese till the changes under
Henry the Eighth. Mr. Hinde suggests (Arch. Journal, xvi. 227) that
this district was conquered by Earl Eadwulf, the great enemy of the
Britons (see N. C. vol. i. p. 526), a position which it might be hard
either to prove or to disprove. Before the death of Henry the First,
the Carlisle district was divided into two shires, Carlisle and
Westmoreland (_Chaerleolium_ and _Westmarieland_, Pipe Roll Hen. I.
pp. 140, 143). This last consisted of the barony of Appleby, specially
known as Westmoreland. Enlarged by the barony of Kirkby Kendal in
Yorkshire, it became the modern county of Westmoreland. So the shire
of Carlisle took the name of _Cumberland_ in 1177, and, enlarged by
the part of Yorkshire north of the Duddon, it became the modern county
of Cumberland. But these added lands remained part of the diocese of
York, till Henry the Eighth removed them to his diocese of Chester.
This last diocese must not be confounded with the diocese of
Chester――otherwise of Lichfield or Coventry――with which we have to do
in our story. That diocese did not reach north of the Ribble, and its
seat at Chester was in Saint John’s minster, while the new see of
Henry the Eighth was planted in Saint Werburh’s.
The earldom of Carlisle brings us among old acquaintances. It was
granted early in the reign of Henry the First (see Arch. Journal, xvi.
230, 231) to Randolf called Meschines, _de Micenis_, and other forms,
who in 1118 became Earl of Chester, on the death of Earl Richard in
the White Ship (see N. C. vol. v. p. 195), on which he gave up
Carlisle. He died in 1129, being the second husband of the younger
Lucy (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 682; vol. iii. p. 778), daughter of Ivo
Taillebois. Ivo himself, at some time after the drawing up of Domesday
(Carlisle Pipe Rolls, p. xliii) appears in the same part of the world
as lord of Kirkby Kendal. After 1118 the earldom of Carlisle or
Cumberland remained in the crown, till it was granted to David of
Scotland in 1136 (see N. C. vol. v. p. 259).
The name of the city and earldom of Carlisle is the best comment on
its history. Alone among the names of English cities, it remains
purely British, not only in its root, but, so to speak, in its
grammar. The British idiom, I need hardly say, places the qualifying
word second; the Teutonic idiom places it first. Thus _Caer Gwent_ and
_Caer Glovi_ have become _Winchester_ and _Gloucester_. But _Caer
Luel_ has not changed; it remains _Carlisle_, and has not become
something like _Lilchester_. The reason is doubtless because the first
English occupation of Caer Luel did not last long enough to give it a
lasting English name. In 1092 nomenclature had lost the life which it
had in 685, and a foreign tongue moreover had the upper hand. No one
then thought of turning the name of Carlisle about, any more than of
doing so by the names of Cardiff (Caerdydd), Caermarthen, or the
Silurian _Caerwent_ and _Caerleon_.
* * * * *
As for the colonists brought from the south, I have assumed them to be
a strictly Saxon element added to the already mixed population of the
border. And there may have been a Flemish element too, as I was
inclined to think when I wrote N. C. vol. v. p. 119. The point is not
of much importance, as the two kindred elements would easily fuse
together; but it strikes me now that, if any part of the settlers had
come from beyond sea, the Chronicler would not have so calmly spoken
of them as churlish folk from the south. That phrase however is one
well worthy of notice. The words “hider suð” can hardly have been
written at Peterborough. That abbey certainly lies a long way south of
Carlisle; but Peterborough would hardly speak of itself in this
general way as “south.” (In 1051 Worcester, which lies south of
Peterborough, counted itself to be “at this north end”――“ofer ealre
þisne norð ende” says the Worcester Chronicle. See N. C. vol. ii. p.
620.) The suggestion that these “churlish folk” (“multi villani” in
the translation in the Waverley Annals) were the men who had lost
their lands at the making of the New Forest has high authority in its
favour. It seems to have been first made by Palgrave (English
Commonwealth, i. 450), and it is supported by Lappenberg (ii. 175,
Thorpe 235). Still it is a simple guess, and I cannot say that to my
own mind it has any air even of likelihood. It arises, it seems to me,
from an exaggerated notion of the amount of havoc done at the making
of the New Forest, combined with a forgetfulness of the time which had
passed since that event. We cannot fix its exact date, but the Survey
shows that whatever was done in the New Forest, much or little was
fully done before 1085, and we are now in 1092.
* * * * *
The earliest official notice of Carlisle and Westmoreland, the Pipe
Roll of the 31st year of Henry the First, contains several interesting
entries. The city wall was building. There are entries, “in
operationibus civitatis de Caerleolio, videlicet in muro circa
civitatem faciendo” (p. 140), “in operatione muri civitatis de
Caerleolio” (p. 141), and (p. 142) “in liberatione vigilis turris de
Penuesel,” which needs a local expounder. Both in this roll and in the
rolls under Henry the Second we notice a mixture of personal
nomenclature, Norman, Danish, English, and Scottish, which is just
what we should look for. Distinctly British names I do not see. In the
first few pages of the roll of 1156 we find at least three Gospatrics.
One is very fittingly the son of Orm; another is the son of Beloc (6),
whose nationality may be doubted; a third is the son of Mapbennoc, a
clear Pict or Scot. So again we have Uhtred son of Fergus (p. 5),
William son of Holdegar, Æthelward [Ailward] son of Dolfin, hardly the
dispossessed prince. Swegen son of Æthelric [Sweinus fil. Alrici] in
the roll of Henry the First (142) is a local man; but Henry son of
Swegen, who comes often under Henry the Second, is the unlucky
descendant of Robert son of Wymarc. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 735. There
are a good many entries about the canons of Saint Mary of Carlisle who
were founded before the bishopric, in 1102 (see Haddan and Stubbs, ii.
13). There is a notice in 1156 (p. 3) of the Bishop of Candida Casa or
Whithern. That see was (Haddan and Stubbs, ii. 25) revived about 1127,
as suffragan of York, and 1156 is the date of the death of Æthelwulf
the first Bishop of Carlisle.
NOTE S. Vol. i. p. 329.
THE EARLY LIFE OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.
I quoted some of the passages bearing on the early life of Randolf
Flambard in N. C. vol. iv. p. 521. I mentioned there that he had a
brother named Osbern, who appears in the Abingdon History. He had
another brother Fulcher, of whom we shall hear again. See Ord. Vit.
788 D, and vol. ii. p. 416. He had also a son Thomas. I do not feel
quite so sure as I did then, or as Dr. Stubbs seems to be (Const.
Hist. i. 348), that he really did hold lands in England T. R. E. The
entry which looks like it is the second of the three in Domesday, 51,
which stands thus in full;
“Isdem Ranulfus tenuit in ipsa villa i. hidam, et pro tanto
se defendebat T. R. E. modo est tota in foresta exceptis
iiii. acris prati terra fuit iiii. carucatarum. Hæ duæ terræ
valebant iiii. libras.”
It appears then that Flambard lost the arable part of this hide at the
making of the New Forest, as he also lost another hide, with the same
exception of four acres of meadow, which had been held T. R. E. by one
Alwold. A third hide, of which it is said that “duo alodiarii
tenuerunt,” he kept, as well as his holdings in Oxford and
Oxfordshire. Dr. Stubbs suggests that these lands were “possibly
acquired in the service of the Norman Bishop William of London.” Sir
F. Palgrave (England and Normandy, iv. 52) makes the most of this
despoiling of a Norman holder. But I am not clear that the words of
the entry which I have given in full necessarily imply that the land
was held by Flambard himself T. R. E. And, if we need not suppose
this, his story becomes a great deal simpler. Above all, we need no
longer suppose that a man who lived till 1128, and whose mother was
living in 1100 (see vol. ii. p. 398), had made himself of importance
enough to receive grants of land at some time before 1066.
* * * * *
The account of Flambard which is given by Orderic (678 C) would
certainly not suggest that he had been in England in the time of
Eadward;
“Hic de obscura satis et paupere parentela prodiit, et
multum ultra natales suos ad multorum detrimentum sublimatus
intumuit. Turstini cujusdum plebeii presbyteri de pago
Bajocensi filius fuit, et a puerilibus annis inter
pedissequos curiales cum vilibus parasitis educatus crevit,
callidisque tergiversationibus et argutis verborum
machinationibus plusquam arti literatoriæ studuit. Et quia
semetipsum in curia magni regis Guillermi arroganter
illustribus præferre ardebat, nesciente non jussus, multa
inchoabat, infestus in aula regis plures procaciter
accusabat, temereque majoribus quasi regia vi fultus
imperabat.”
It is not easy to reconcile this with the version which makes Flambard
pass into the King’s service from that of Bishop Maurice, who did not
become bishop till Christmas, 1085. The story of his service with
Maurice appears in the account of him which is printed in Anglia Sacra
(i. 705), and also along with Simeon (249 ed. Bedford, and X Scriptt.
59). It is much more likely that the name of the bishop should be
wrongly given than that his service with some bishop of London should
be mere invention. If so, he may have passed into the service of the
Conqueror at almost any time of his reign, while still so young that
it becomes an easy exaggeration on the part of Orderic to say that he
was in the King’s service from his childhood. The passage in the Life
which continues Simeon stands thus;
“Fuerat autem primo cum Mauritio Lundoniensi episcopo; sed
propter decaniam sibi ablatam orto discidio, spe altioris
loci se transtulit ad regem.”
This must surely refer to something which really happened; and in the
Register of Christchurch Twinham (Mon. Angl. vi. 303) we distinctly
read of Flambard, “qui Randulphus antea fuerat decanus in ecclesia
Christi de Twynham.” But this is directly followed by another extract
from the same register which denies that the heads of the church of
Twinham ever bore the title of dean, and which connects Flambard with
Twinham in quite another way. According to this story, there were at
Twinham in the time of William Rufus twenty-four canons under a chief
named Godric (“Hunc Godricum sui tunc temporis clerici, non pro
decano, quasi nominis ignorantes, sed pro seniore ac patrono
venerabantur”). Flambard, already bishop of Durham, obtains a grant of
Twinham and its church from William Rufus (“Randulfus episcopus hanc
ecclesiam cum villa a rege Willielmo impetravit”). If I rightly
understand a very corrupt text, Flambard enriches the church and
designs to rebuild it, and then to put in monks instead of canons;
meanwhile he keeps the prebends vacant as they fall in. This Godric
opposes; but in the end Flambard rebuilds the church, and keeps the
prebends in his own hands till there are only thirteen left. Then
comes his own banishment, and the grant of the church to one Gilbert
de Dousgunels, after which Flambard seems to have had nothing more to
do with it.
It is odd that so many prebends should have become vacant in the
single year during which Flambard held the bishopric for the first
time, and one would not have expected him to have been a favourer of
monks. But I can get no other meaning out of the words “cupiens et
disponens … præfatam ecclesiam … funditus eruere, et meliorem
decentioremque cuilibet ædificare religioni.” What comes after seems
plainer still;
“Fregit episcopus illius loci primitivam ecclesiam, novemque
alias quæ infra cimiterium steterant, cum quorundam domibus
canonicorum prope locum ecclesiæ cimiterii, et officinarum
compenciorem [?] faciendum et canonicis in villa congruum
immutationem [sic] ut dominus adaptavit locum. Fundavit
equidem hanc ecclesiam episcopus Randulfus quæ nunc est apud
Twynham, et domos et officinas cuilibet religioni. Obeunte
canonicorum aliquo, ejus beneficium in sua retinebat
potestate, nulli tribuens alii, volens unamquamque dare
præbendam religioni, si eos omnes mortis fortuna in suo
tulisset tempore.”
Now all this can hardly have happened between Flambard’s consecration
in 1099 and his imprisonment in 1100. But he may have had the grant of
Twinham before he was bishop. Again, in two charters (Mon. Angl. vi.
304), granted by the elder Baldwin of Redvers, we hear of deans of
Twinham and of “Ranulfus decanus,” which seems to mean Flambard
himself. The lands of the canons of Twinham are entered in Domesday,
44; but there is no mention of Flambard.
We thus have the absolutely certain fact that Flambard held lands near
Twinham. In two independent sources he is said to have been dean of
Twinham. In another independent source he is said to have held and
lost some deanery not named. In yet another story he is described, not
as dean of Twinham, but as doing great things at Twinham in another
character. These accounts cannot literally be reconciled; but they
certainly point to a connexion of some kind between him and the church
of Twinham.
We must indeed mourn the loss of the primitive church of Twinham with
its nine surrounding chapels, something like Glendalough or
Clonmacnois. The nave of the present church may well be Flambard’s
work; but it has no special likeness to his work at Durham. But this
may only prove that he built it before he went to Durham, and there
learned the improvements in architecture which had been brought in by
William of Saint-Calais (see N. C. vol. v. p. 631). The seculars of
Twinham made way for Austin canons about 1150.
While speaking of Twinham, I must correct a statement which I made
long ago with regard to one of the chief worthies of my earlier story.
I said (N. C. vol. ii. p. 33) that Earl Godwine was “nowhere enrolled
among the founders or benefactors of any church, religious or
secular.” I find him enrolled among the benefactors of Twinham. And
here again we mark that, as with his wife (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 358)
and his son, his bounty goes to the seculars. The passage, in one of
the charters of the elder Baldwin of Redvers granted to Hilary Dean of
Twinham (Mon. Angl. vi. 304), stands thus;
“Ecclesiam de Stoppele cum omnibus quæ ad eam spectant; unam
virgatam terræ cum appendiciis in eadem villa _ex dono
Godwini comitis_, quam Orricus de Stanton eidem Christi
ecclesiæ violenter surripuit.”
I cannot identify this “Orricus de Stanton” in Domesday, nor do I know
anything as to the genuineness of the charter. But no one in the
twelfth century or later would be likely to invent a benefaction of
Earl Godwine.
* * * * *
Orderic, in the passage quoted above (678 C), distinctly speaks of
Randolf as having been in the service of the Conqueror, and it must
have been in his court that he got the surname which, in so many
forms, has stuck to him, and which we find even in Domesday (see N. C.
vol. iv. p. 521). The way in which he came by it is thus
described――his false accusations have just been mentioned;
“Unde a Roberto dispensatore regio Flambardus cognominatus
est, quod vocabulum ei secundum mores ejus et actus quasi
prophetice collatum est. Flamma quippe ardens multis factis
intulit genti novos ritus, quibus crudeliter oppressit
populorum cœtus, et ecclesiæ cantus temporales mutavit in
planctus.”
In this last piece of rhetoric we seem to lose the real reason why he
was called _Flambard_, which is not very clear: still less do we get
any explanation of the form “_Passe_flambard.” Lappenberg (ii. 167)
says “er habe den Beinamen von der Fackel wegen seiner schon früh
bewährten Habsucht erhalten.” But one has some fellow-feeling with his
translator (225)――if he would only have written English to match
Lappenberg’s German――“It is not easy to conceive how the sobriquet of
_Flambeau_ could be given to an individual on account of his
covetousness.” Nor is it quite clear that it is covetousness strictly
so called of which Orderic speaks. He says elsewhere (786 D); “Erat
sollers et facundus, et, licet crudelis et iracundus, largus tamen et
plerumque jocundus, et ob hoc plerisque gratus et amandus.”
In a letter to Pope Paschal (Epp. iv. 2) Anselm seems quite carried
out of his usual mildness of speech by the thought of Flambard,
especially by the thought of his being made a bishop. The letter must
have been written just after Paschal and Flambard had received their
several promotions. We get the same derivation of the name as in our
other extracts; “Quando de Anglia exivi, erat ibi quidem professione
sacerdos [see p. 330], non solum publicanus, sed etiam publicanorum
princeps infamissimus, nomine Ranulphus, propter crudelitatem similem
flammæ comburenti, promine Flambardus; cujus flamma qualis sit, non in
Anglia solum, sed in exteris regnis longe lateque innotuit.”
Lappenberg, in the passage quoted above, refers to Thierry’s wonderful
account of Flambard (ii. 141);
“Renouf Flambard, évêque de Lincoln, autrefois valet de pied
chez les ducs de Normandie, commettait, dans son diocèse, de
tels brigandages, que les habitants souhaitaient de mourir,
dit un ancien historien, plutôt que de vivre sous sa
puissance.”
I cannot find that Thierry speaks of Flambard anywhere else. The
“valet de pied” must come from the bit in Orderic about the
“pedissequi curiales.” The rest, including the wonderful confusion
which makes him bishop of Lincoln, comes, as Lappenberg points out,
from a passage in the Winchester Annals, 1092 (cf. 1097), which I
shall presently have to refer to. But it is really amazing that
Flambard’s loss of property in the New Forest did not cause him to be
brought in at some stage or other as an oppressed Saxon.
NOTE T. Vol. i. p. 333.
THE OFFICIAL POSITION OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.
The exact formal position held by Flambard under William Rufus has in
some measure to be guessed at, as the rhetoric of our authorities
sometimes veils such matters in rather vague language. Thus his
biographer (Anglia Sacra, i. 706) describes him;
“Admixtus enim causis regaliorum negotiorum, cum esset
acrioris ingenii et promptioris linguæ, brevi in tantum
excrevit ut adepta apud regem familiaritas totius Angliæ
potentes et natu quoque nobiliores illum superferret. Totius
namque regni procurator constitutus, interdum insolentius
accepta abutens potestate, cum negotiis regis pertinacius
insisteret, plures offendere parvi pendebat. Quæ res
multorum ei invidiam et odium contraxerat. Crebris
accusationibus serenum animi regalis ei obnubilare, et locum
familiaritatis conabantur interrumpere.”
Here we have a vague description of a position of great influence,
without the bestowal of any official title whatever. Orderic (678 B),
in first introducing him, comes somewhat nearer to a formal
description;
“His temporibus quidam clericus nomine Rannulfus
familiaritatem Rufi regis adeptus est, et super omnes regios
officiales ingeniosis accusationibus et multifariis
adulationibus magistratum a rege consecutus est.”
What then was the formal description of this office which set its
holder above all other officers of the King? Lappenberg (ii. 168, p.
226 of the English translation) and Stubbs (Const. Hist. i. 347) both
rule, and seemingly with good reason, that the office held by Flambard
was really that of Justiciar. Official names were at this time still
used so vaguely that it seems to be only in another passage of Orderic
(786 C, see p. 559) that he is directly called so; but, as Lappenberg
says, his office is distinctly marked by the words of the Chronicler
(1099), when he says that the King “Rannulfe his capellane þæt
biscoprice on Dunholme geaf þe æror ealle his gemot ofer eall
Engleland draf and bewiste.” The same office seems to be meant when
Florence (1100) says, “Cujus astutia et calliditas tam vehemens
extitit, et parvo tempore adeo excrevit, ut _placitatorem_ ac totius
regni _exactorem_ rex illum constitueret.” Henry of Huntingdon uses
the same word, when (vii. 21, p. 232 ed. Arnold) he seems to be
translating the entry in the Chronicle; “Anno illo [1099] rex Ranulfo
_placitatori_ sed perversori, _exactori_ sed exustori, totius Angliæ,
dedit episcopatum Dunhelme.” Florence himself, in his entry under the
same year, calls him “Rannulfus, quem negotiorum totius regni
_exactorem_ constituerat.” (In 1094 he is “Rannulphus _Passe_flambardus.”)
Dr. Stubbs (Const. Hist. i. 348) remarks that these “expressions
recall the ancient identity of the _gerefa_ with the _exactor_, and
suggest that one part of the royal policy was to entrust the functions
which had belonged to the præfectus or high steward to a clerk or
creature of the court.” In the Gesta Pontificum (274) William of
Malmesbury, like the Biographer, calls him “totius regni
_procurator_;” in Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 20), he is more vaguely “Ranulfus
regiæ voluntatis maximus _executor_.”
We have seen that Randolf Flambard was a priest (see above, p. 556),
and he is spoken of in a marked way as the King’s chaplain. His
biographer (Angl. Sac. i. 706) says that “propter quandam apud regem
excellentiam, singulariter nominabatur capellanus regis.” And we have
seen that he is so called in the Chronicle. The word is found in only
one other place in the Chronicle, namely in 1114, where it is said of
Thurstan Archbishop of York, “Se wæs æror þæs cynges capelein.” We
must remember that, with all the Red King’s impiety and blasphemy, he
seems never to have formally renounced the fellowship of Christians,
as he was never formally cut off from it. But his choice of an
immediate spiritual adviser is at least characteristic.
* * * * *
Some of the passages describing the administration of Flambard are of
special importance. That given by William of Malmesbury (iv. 314) I
have had occasion to quote piecemeal; but it may be well to give it as
a whole;
“Accessit regiæ menti fomes cupiditatum, Ranulfus clericus,
ex infimo genere hominum lingua et calliditate provectus ad
summum. Is, si quando edictum regium processisset ut
nominatum tributum Anglia penderet, duplum adjiciebat,
expilator divitum, exterminator pauperum, confiscator
alienarum hæreditatum. Invictus causidicus, et tum verbis
tum rebus immodicus, juxta in supplices ut in rebelles
furens; subinde cachinnantibus quibusdam ac dicentibus,” &c.
The last words of this extract are of special importance (see p. 332).
Florence (1100) speaks to much the same effect; “Tanta potestate
adepta, ubique locorum per Angliam ditiores ac locupletiores quosdam,
rerum terrarumque ablatione, multavit, pauperiores autem gravi
injustoque tributo incessanter oppressit, multisque modis, et ante
episcopatum et in episcopatu, majores et minores communiter afflixit,
et hoc usque ad regis ejusdem obitum.”
Orderic, in his second description (786 C), thus speaks of him;
“Hic nimirum de plebeia stirpe progressus Guillelmo Rufo
admodum adulatus est, et machinationibus callidis illi
favens super omnes regni optimates ab illo sublimatus est.
Summus regiarum procurator opum et justitiarius factus est,
et innumeris crudelitatibus frequenter exercitatis exosus,
et pluribus terribilis factus est. Ipse vero contractis
undique opibus, et ampliatis honoribus, nimis locupletatus
est, et usque ad pontificale stemma, quamvis pene
illiteratus esset, non merito religionis, sed potentia
seculari provectus est. Sed quia mortalis vitæ potentia
nulla longa est, interempto rege suo, ut veternus patriæ
deprædator a novo rege incarceratus est.”
Henry imprisons him, he goes on to say, “pro multis enim injuriis,
quibus ipsum Henricum aliosque regni filios, tam pauperes quam
divites, vexaverat, multisque modis crebro afflictos irreverenter
contristaverat.” The tradition of him in later times remained to the
same effect, as we see by the description of him in Roger of Wendover
(ii. 165), which is copied with some improvements by Matthew Paris
(Hist. Angl. i. 182);
“Tenuit autem eo tempore rex in custodia Ranulphum,
episcopum Dunelmensem, hominem perversum et ad omne scelus
pronum et paratum, quem frater ejus rex Willelmus episcopum
fecerat Dunelmensem et regni Angliæ _apporriatorem_ et
potius subversorem, nam vir fuit cavillosus. Qui cum regi
jam dicto nimis fuisset familiaris, constituerat eum rex
W[illelmus], quia quilibet sibi similes quærit questores,
procuratorem suum in regno, ut evelleret, destrueret,
raperet et disperderet, et omnia omnium bona ad fisci
commodum comportaret.”
In this extract the “apporriator,” a queer word enough, but the
meaning of which is plain, the “vir cavillosus,” and the “quæstores,”
all come from Matthew’s own mint.
* * * * *
The Biographer of the Durham bishops has a story to tell of Flambard
at this time of his life. Some of those who had suffered by his false
accusations and his other devices, seemingly persons about the court,
make a plan to get rid of him altogether. A certain Gerald undertakes
the task. He meets the Chaplain――Flambard is so called in a marked way
throughout the story――in London, and tells him a feigned tale that his
old master Bishop Maurice is lying at the point of death in one of his
houses on the banks of the Thames――Stepney perhaps; it cannot be
Fulham (see Domesday, 127 _b_) as the story shows――and wishes greatly
to see Flambard once more before he dies. He himself had been sent by
the Bishop with a boat to bring him with the more speed. Flambard,
suspecting no harm, enters the boat with a few followers. The boat
goes down the river to a distance which puzzles the Chaplain, who is
put off with false excuses. At last he sees a larger vessel anchored
in the middle of the stream, and clearly waiting for his coming. He
now understands the plot. He is carried into the ship, which he finds
full of armed men. With admirable presence of mind, he drops his ring,
and his notary (“notarius suus”) drops his seal (“sigillum illius”),
into the middle of the river――somewhat after the manner of James the
Second――that they may not be used to give currency to any forged
documents (“ne per hæc ubique locorum per Angliam cognita, simulata
præcepta hostibus decipientibus transmissa rerum perturbarent
statum”). Then his men are allowed to go on shore, on taking an oath
that they will tell no one that their lord has been carried off. The
ship puts out to sea, and presently goes with full sail southward. The
Chaplain sits in the stern, while the sailors debate what kind of
death he shall die. Two sons of Belial are chosen, who, for the wages
of the fine clothes which Flambard has on, will either throw him into
the sea or brain him with clubs (“Eliguntur duo filii Belial, qui
illum in fluctus projicerent, vel fracto fustibus cerebro enecarent,
habituri pretium sceleris optimas quibus tunc indutus fuerat vestes”).
The would-be murderers dispute who shall have his mantle, and this
delay saves his life. By this time the wind changes; a storm comes
from the south, night comes on, the ship is dashed about hither and
thither; there is no hope save to try to go back in the direction by
which they have come. At this point they again debate the question of
Flambard’s death. There is now a fear lest he should escape and avenge
the wrong done to him. But, as is usual in such stories, one was found
who was of milder mood; his name is not given, but he held the place
in the ship next after Gerald (“quidam secundus in navi a Geraldo
tantum exhorrens scelus”). He is struck with remorse; he confesses his
crime to Flambard, and says that, if he will grant him his pardon, he
will do what he can for him and stand by him as his companion in life
or death. Then Flambard, whose spirit we are told always rose with
danger, speaks to Gerald in a loud voice; Gerald is his man, whose
faith is pledged to him; he will not prosper if he ventures on such a
crime as this (“Tunc ille, sicut magnanimus semper erat in periculis,
ingenti clamore vociferans, quid tu, inquit, Geralde, cogitas? Quid de
nobis machinaris? Homo meus es; fidem mihi debes; hanc violare non
tibi cedet in prosperum”). He calls on him to give up his wicked
purpose; let him name his reward, and he shall have it; he will give
him his hand as a sign of his own good faith (“Pete quantum volueris.
Ego sum qui plura petitis præstare potero; et ne discredas promissis,
ecce manu affirmo quod polliceor”). Gerald, having less faith in his
promises than fear of his power, agrees. He goes back to the haven,
and receives Flambard in his own house near the shore (“Ille non tam
promissis illectus, quam potentia viri exterritus, consentit,
eductumque de navi jam in portum repulsa honorifico in sua domo quæ
litori prominebat procuravit apparatu”). But, still not trusting
Flambard, he took himself off for ever (“Nequaquam credulus
promissorum fugæ præsidium iniens æterno disparuit exilio”). Flambard
goes back to London with a great array (“Ranulphus vero accitis
undique militibus multa armatorum manu grandique strepitu deducitur
Lundoniam”). All are amazed to see him whom they had believed to be
dead. He takes his old place in the King’s counsels; he rises higher
in the King’s favour than ever, and no man dares to form any more
schemes against him as long as the King lives.
There seems no reason why this story should not be true; true or
false, it is characteristic. Just as in the later case of Thomas of
London, we see the greatness to which men of the class of Randolf
Flambard could rise――their wealth, power and splendour, their numerous
and even knightly following. One is tempted to ask something more
about Gerald the author of this daring plot against Flambard’s life.
Except that he is said to have gone away for ever, one would be
tempted to think that he must be the same as Gerard――the two names are
easily confounded――afterwards Bishop of Hereford and Archbishop of
York, a man seemingly of much the same class and disposition as
Flambard himself, and who appears (see pp. 524, 543) as a ready
instrument of the will of William Rufus.
NOTE U. Vol. i. p. 332.
THE ALLEGED DOMESDAY OF RANDOLF FLAMBARD.
I suppose that the story about a new Survey of England, to which Sir
Francis Palgrave attached such great importance, may be held to be set
aside by the remarks of Dr. Stubbs, Const. Hist. i. 302, 348. He rules
that in all likelihood Flambard had a hand in the real Domesday, and
that Orderic simply made a mistake as to the date, which he is not at
all unlikely to have done. Long before Dr. Stubbs wrote, I had come to
the conclusion that the story in Orderic, as it stood, could not be
accepted. It is found in Orderic’s first account of Flambard (678 C),
where he tells us that he persuaded William Rufus to make a new Survey
of England. He measured, we are told, by the rope――according, as it
would seem, to the measure of Normandy instead of the measure of
England――in order in some way to increase the King’s revenue. The
words stand thus;
“Hic juvenem fraudulentis stimulationibus inquietavit regem,
incitans ut totius Angliæ reviseret descriptionem,
Anglicæque telluris comprobans iteraret partitionem,
subditisque recideret, tam advenis quam indigenis, quicquid
inveniretur ultra certam dimensionem. Annuente rege, omnes
carucatas quas Angli hidas vocant, funiculo mensus est et
descripsit; postpositisque mensuris quas liberales Angli
jussu Eduardi regis largiter distribuerant imminuit, et
regales fiscos accumulans colonis arva retruncavit. Ruris
itaque olim diutius nacti diminutione et insoliti vectigalis
gravi exaggeratione, supplices regiæ fidelitati plebes
indecenter oppressit, ablatis rebus attenuavit, et in nimiam
egestatem de ingenti copia redegit.”
I do not profess to know exactly what Flambard is here supposed to
have done. Sir Francis Palgrave goes into the matter at some length,
both in his English Commonwealth (ii. ccccxlvii) and in his History of
Normandy (iv. 59). If I rightly understand his meaning, the _carucata_
in the valuation of the Conqueror was not an unvarying amount of the
earth’s surface, but differed according to the nature of the land. A
carucate of good land would consist of fewer acres than a carucate of
bad. Flambard, we are to understand, measured out the land by the rope
into carucates of equal size, and exacted from each the full measure
of the geld. That is to say, an estate consisting mainly of poor land
would be reckoned at many more carucates, and therefore would have to
pay a much higher tax, than it had before. I do not say that this may
not be the meaning; but the words of Orderic read to me as if they
applied to an actual taking away of land, as well as to a mere
increase in its taxation. One might almost fancy that, if a man had
land of greater extent than answered to his number of carucates
according to the new reckoning, the overplus was treated as land to
which he had no legal claim, and was therefore confiscated to the
crown. But the real question is whether anything of the kind happened
at all. It is not mentioned by any writer except Orderic, and it is
the kind of thing about which Orderic in his Norman monastery might
not be very well informed. It should be remembered, as Lappenberg (ii.
168 of the original, 226 of the English translation) remarks, that
Orderic makes no distinct mention of the real Domesday Survey, and
this statement may very well have arisen from a confusion between the
great Survey of the Conqueror and some of the local surveys of which
there were many. Sir Francis Palgrave believed that he had found a
piece of Flambard’s Domesday in an ancient lieger-book of Evesham
abbey, which the mention of Samson Bishop of Worcester fixes to some
date between 1096 and 1112. Of the genuineness of the document there
is no doubt; but I cannot see, any more than Lappenberg did, any
reason for supposing it to be anything more than a local survey. The
passage printed by Sir Francis Palgrave, which he compares with the
corresponding part of the Exchequer Domesday――to which it certainly
has no likeness――relates wholly to the two towns of Gloucester and
Winchcombe, so that it gives no means of seeing whether the number of
carucates in any particular estate differs in the two reckonings.
I cannot believe with Lappenberg that “Henricus comes,” who appears
among a crowd of not very exalted people as the owner of one burgess
at Gloucester, is the future King; it is surely Henry Earl of Warwick.
Dr. Stubbs, while rejecting Orderic’s story altogether, further
rejects Sir Francis Palgrave’s explanation of it. He merely hints that
Orderic “may refer to a substitution of the short hundred for the long
in the reckoning of the hide of land.” But it is safer to look, as he
does, on the whole story as a misapprehension.
Of this way of measuring by the rope――whence the _Rapes_ in
Sussex――several examples are collected by Maurer, Einleitung zur
Geschichte der Mark- Hof- Dorf- und Stadtverfassung, 72. 135. Cf.
Herodotus, vii. 23; ὤρυσσον δὲ ὧδε· δασάμενοι τὸν χῶρον οἱ βάρβαροι
κατὰ ἔθνεα, κατὰ Σάνην πόλιν σχοινοτενὲς ποιησάμενοι. [ôrysson de
hôde; dasamenoi ton chôron hoi barbaroi kata ethnea, kata Sanên polin
schoinotenes poiêsamenoi.] In Sussex itself we have (see above, p. 68)
the story of the measuring of the _lowy_ of Lewes by the rope, which
is at least more likely than the story told by the same writer (Will.
Gem. viii. 15) that the earldom of Hereford passed in this way to
Roger of Breteuil; “Cui comitatus Herefordi funiculo distributionis
evenit.”
The practice, in short, was so familiar that in the Glossary of
Rabanus Maurus (Eckhardt, Rer. Franc. Or. ii. 963) “funiculum” is
explained by _lantmarcha_ (cf. Du Cange in “funiculus”). So Suger (c.
15, Duchèsne, iv. 296) says how the Epte “antiquo fune geometricali
Francorum et Danorum concorditer metito collimitat.”
NOTE W. Vol. i. p. 337.
THE DEALINGS OF WILLIAM RUFUS WITH VACANT BISHOPRICS AND ABBEYS.
The chief point to be insisted on is that the appropriation of the
revenues of vacant bishoprics and abbeys by the King was an innovation
of William Rufus on the suggestion of Flambard. Such a thing may
possibly have happened before, though I am not prepared at this moment
with an instance; but, if so, it was merely a case of the irregular
way in which Church property, and all property, was often dealt with
by those who had the power. It was not a logical deduction from any
legal principle, such as it at once became when Flambard had
established the doctrine that the greater Church benefices were fiefs
held of the King by military service. The passage in the Chronicle
which I have quoted at p. 348 does not say in so many words that the
practice was an invention of Rufus or his minister, though the tone of
the passage certainly implies that their doings were something new.
Other writers speak more distinctly.
Next in authority to the Chronicler comes Eadmer, who is naturally
full on the subject. He tells us in detail (Hist. Nov. 14) how Rufus
dealt with the Church of Canterbury after the death of Lanfranc,
speaking more lightly of other cases as being of the same kind;
“Cuncta quæ juris illius erant, intus et extra per clientes
suos describi præcepit, taxatoque victu monachorum inibi Deo
servientium, reliqua sub censu atque in suum dominum redigi
jussit. Fecit ergo ecclesiam Christi venalem: jus in ea
dominandi præ cæteris illi tribuens, qui ad detrimentum ejus
in dando pretium alium superabat. Unde misera successione
singulis annis pretium renovabatur. Nullam siquidem
conventionem Rex stabilem esse sinebat, sed qui plura
promittebat excludebat minus dantem; nisi forte ad id quod
posterior offerebat, prima conventione vacuata, prior
assurgeret. Videres insuper quotidie, spreta servorum Dei
religione, quosque nefandissimos hominum regias pecunias
exigentes per claustra monasterii torvo et minaci vultu
procedere, hinc inde præcipere, minas intentare,
dominationem potentiamque suam in immensum ostentare.”
He goes on to tell of the sufferings of the monks and of their lay
tenants;
“Quidam ipsi ecclesiæ monachi malis ingruentibus dispersi ac
missi sunt ad alia monasteria, et qui relicti multas passi
tribulationes et improperia. Quid de hominibus ecclesiæ
dicam qui tam vasta miseria miseraque vastatione sunt
attriti, ut dubitarem, si sequentia mala non essent, an
salva vita illorum possent miserius atteri.”
He then mentions the like dealings with other churches, and adds the
emphatic words;
“Et quidem ipse primus hanc luctuosam oppressionem ecclesiis
Dei indixit, nullatenus eam ex paterna traditione excipiens.
Destitutas ergo ecclesias solus in dominio suo tenebat. Nam
alium neminem præter se substituere volebat quamdiu per suos
ministros aliquid quod cujusvis pretii duceret ab eis
extrahere poterat.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 314) is no less distinct as to the
difference between the practice of the two Williams, and as to the
agency of Flambard. Having given his character of him (see above, p.
558) he goes on;
“Hoc auctore sacri ecclesiarum honores, mortuis pastoribus,
venum locati; namque audita morte cujuslibet episcopi vel
abbatis, confestim clericus regis eo mittebatur, quo omnia
inventa scripto exciperet, omnesque in posterum redditus
fisco regio inferret. Interea quærebatur quis in loco
defuncti idoneus substitueretur, non pro morum sed pro
nummorum experimento; dabaturque tandem honor, ut ita dicam,
nudus, magno tamen emptus.”
He then goes on to contrast in a marked way the conduct of Rufus in
these matters with that of his father; “Hæc eo indigniora videbantur,
quod, tempore patris, post decessum episcopi vel abbatis omnes
redditus integre custodiebantur, substituendo pastori resignandi,
eligebanturque personæ religionis merito laudabiles; at vero pauculis
annis intercedentibus omnia immutata.”
Orderic has two passages on the subject. One of them (763 C) is a mere
complaint; “Defunctis præsulibus et archimandritis satellites regis
ecclesiasticas possessiones et omnes gazas invadebant, triennioque seu
plus dominio regis omnino mancipabant. Sic nimirum pro cupiditate
reddituum, qui regis in ærario recondebantur, ecclesiæ vacabant,
necessariisque carentes pastoribus Dominicæ oves lupinis morsibus
patebant.” In the other (678, 679) he distinctly speaks of Flambard’s
innovation, and goes more at length into the matter than any of the
other writers. He has given one of the descriptions of Flambard which
has been already quoted (see p. 559); and then goes on;
“Hujus consilio juvenis rex, morientibus prælatis, ecclesias
cum possessionibus olim sibi datis invasit, et tam in
abbatiis cœnobitas quam in episcopiis episcopales decanos et
canonicos cuilibet satellitum suorum subegit. Parcam autem
ad victum suum distributionem rerum eis delegabat, et
reliquos redditus suæ ditioni mancipabat. Sic avaritia regis
in ecclesia Dei nimis exarsit, et nefarius mos, _tunc
incœptus usque in hodiernum diem perseverans_, multis
animabus exitio fit. Hac enim de causa cupidus rex pastores
ecclesiis imponere differebat, et populus rectore et grex
pastore carens lupinis dentibus patebat, et multimodarum
toxicatis missilibus culparum sauciatus interibat.”
He then goes on to contrast the greediness and sacrilege of William
Rufus with the bounty of the ancient kings and nobles from Æthelberht
onwards. He again records and moralizes on the special innovation of
Rufus with regard to the treatment of ecclesiastical properties during
vacancies;
“Antequam Normanni Angliam obtinuissent, mos erat, ut dum
rectores ecclesiarum obirent, episcopus cœnobiorum quæ in
sua diocesi erant, res sollicite describeret et sub ditione
sua, donec abbates legitime ordinarentur, custodiret.
Similiter archiepiscopus episcopii res, antistite defuncto,
servabat, et pauperibus vel structuris basilicarum, vel
aliis bonis operibus, cum consilio domesticorum ejusdem
ecclesiæ distrahebat. Hunc profecto morem Guillelmus Rufus
ab initio regni sui persuasione Flambardi abolevit et
metropolitanam Cantuariæ sedem sine pontifice tribus annis
esse fecit ejusque redditus suis thesauris intulit. Injustum
quippe videtur, omnique rationi contrarium, ut quod Deo
datum est fidelium liberalitate principum, vel solertia
dispensatorum ecclesiasticæ rei laudabiliter est auctum,
denuo sub laicali manu retrahatur, et in nefarios sæculi
usus distrahatur.”
One effect of this practice must have been to make the monks and
canons of the cathedral churches specially anxious to establish their
distinct property in some part of the estates of the local church,
separate from the property of the bishop. Under Flambard’s system, all
the estates of the church were during a vacancy seized by the King,
who allowed the monks or canons only such a pittance as he thought
good. When episcopal and capitular estates were divided, when the body
of canons held certain estates, and each canon by himself held certain
others, all in _frank-almoign_, the seizure into the King’s hands of
the estates which the bishop held by military tenure made no
difference to the incomes of the canons.
NOTE X. Vol. i. p. 354.
THE APPOINTMENT OF HERBERT LOSINGA TO THE SEE OF THETFORD.
I have said something of the appointment of Bishop Herbert in N. C.
vol. iv. p. 420. The notices in our authorities are a little puzzling.
The Chronicle contains no mention of his appointment, but we read in
1094 (see p. 448) of his staff being taken from him by the King
(“Herbearde Losange þam bisceop of Theotfordan his stæf benam”). This
passage, of which I shall have to speak again, seems to have been
misunderstood by a copyist of Florence, who, instead of his genuine
text, has inserted the words which I have quoted in N. C. vol. iv. p.
420. This account would imply that Herbert bought both the bishopric
for himself and the abbey for his father in 1094. Then follows a
passage which is found in nearly the same words in both the works of
William of Malmesbury (Gest. Reg. iv. 339; Gest. Pont. p. 151);
“Verumtamen erroneum impetum juventutis abolevit pœnitentia,
Romam profectus severioribus annis; ubi loci simonicum
baculum et annulum deponens, indulgentia clementissimæ sedis
iterum recipere meruit. Domum vero reversus, sedem
episcopalem transportavit ad insignem mercimoniis et
populorum frequentia vicum nomine Nordevic, ibique
monachorum congregationem instituit.”
This would place the journey to Rome after 1094. But there can be no
doubt that Herbert received the bishopric in 1091, and that his
repentance and journey to Rome took place between that year and 1094.
He signs as bishop the charter of Osmund Bishop of Salisbury in 1091.
And if any suspicion is thought to attach to that instrument, the
profession rolls at Canterbury, as certified by Dr. Stubbs, are
evidence enough of his consecration and his profession to a future
archbishop. His consecration by Thomas of York is also recorded by T.
Stubbs, Scriptt. 1707. The true story is given in another manuscript
of Florence, the reading of which is given by Mr. Thorpe in a note,
and in which the entry of 1094 stands thus; “Ubi etiam Herebertum,
Theotfordensem episcopum, pastorali baculo privavit. Latenter enim
Urbanum papam adire, et ab eo pro episcopatu quem sibi, et abbatiam
quam patri suo Rotberto, ab ipso rege Willelmo mille libris emerat,
absolutionem quærere voluit.” The case seems quite clear. Herbert buys
the bishopric of the King; he repents, goes to Rome, and is reinvested
by the Pope. The King looks on this as an insult to the royal
authority and takes his staff from him. But he must have made his
peace with the King within the next two years. For at the end of that
time he began the translation of his see from Thetford to Norwich. The
Annals of Bartholomew Cotton (Anglia Sacra, i. 397) give 1091 as the
date of his appointment to Thetford, 1094 as the year of his
translation to Norwich, and 1096 as the beginning of the foundation of
the church of Norwich. And it appears from the local Annals of Saint
Eadmund’s (Liebermann, 275) that he was acting as bishop in
East-Anglia, whether by the style of Thetford or of Norwich, in 1095.
I cannot help thinking that the date assigned to the translation by
Bartholomew Cotton is really a confusion with the date of his
temporary deprivation. In either case he ceased to be Bishop of
Thetford in 1094; most likely he did not become Bishop of Norwich till
1096. It seems from the Norwich documents in Anglia Sacra (i. 397,
407; Mon. Angl. iv. 13-15) that he began to build the church of
Norwich in 1096, and planted monks there in 1101. The local writers
are full of panegyrics on his virtues. His letters are printed in the
series called Scriptores Monastici, but they do not contain much that
is of importance for our history. He has a few correspondents with
English names, one of whom, Ingulf by name, was Prior of the newly
founded monastery of Norwich.
* * * * *
A third manuscript of Florence, the text of which is printed by Mr.
Thorpe in a note, seems to follow the version which was acceptable at
Norwich and leaves out the deprivation in 1094; “Hoc anno [1094]
venerabilis Herbertus, Theotfordensis episcopus, a Roma cum
benedictione apostolica rediit: et a Willelmo rege impetravit ut sedes
episcopalis in Norwicensi ecclesia firmaretur, ubi ipse, Christi
juvante gratia, pulcherrimam congregationem monachorum ad honorem
Sanctæ Trinitatis adunavit.”
The account in William of Malmesbury (Gesta Regum, iv. 338, 339) is
evidently meant to make a striking rhetorical contrast between the
unregenerate Herbert who bought the see of Thetford and the converted
and sanctified Herbert who founded the church of Norwich. He becomes a
special enemy of the simony which he had himself once practised;
“Sicut tempore istius regis symoniæ causidicus, ita posterius
propulsator invictus, neque ab aliis fieri voluit quod a se præsumptum
quondam juvenili fervore indoluit.” His fuller picture in his earlier
state is that he was “magnus in Anglia symoniæ fomes, abbatiam
episcopatumque nummis aucupatus; pecunia scilicet regiam
sollicitudinem inviscans, et principum favori non leves promissiones
assibilans.” Then follow the well-known verses containing the lines
“Surgit in ecclesia monstrum, genitore Losinga.
* * * * *
“Filius est præsul, pater abbas, Symon uterque.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 339) makes one very singular remark in
recording the restoration of Herbert to his see by the Pope;
“Iterum recipere meruit; quod Romani sanctius et ordinatius
censeant ut ecclesiarum omnium sumptus suis potius marsupiis
serviant quam quorumlibet regum usibus militent.”
The fling at Roman greediness is in the true English style of all
times; but, in the connexion in which it stands, the idea which it
suggests is that Herbert, who had once bought his bishopric of the
King, bought it again of the Pope.
On the name _Losinga_ see De Rémusat, Anselme, 199; Diez,
Etymologisches Wörterbuch, i. 255. It seems to come from _laudare_.
NOTE Y. Vol. i. p. 374.
THE LETTERS OF ANSELM.
The letters of Anselm throw so much light on the events of the time,
they open to us so many bits of local and personal detail, both in
England and in Normandy, that we are not only thankful for the help
which they give us for this period, but sometimes feel a certain
grudge that we have no help of the same kind for earlier periods.
Anselm’s correspondents are found in all lands and in all ranks. All
his letters are of course in Latin, a tongue which must, one would
think, have in many cases needed to be interpreted to those to whom
the letters came. A touch or two in any natural language, whether
English, French, or whatever may have been the exact form of Romance
spoken at Aosta, would have been, not only a relief, but a precious
source of knowledge. But for this of course we must not look in these
times, whether from Anselm or from any one else.
In several places in the text I have used the letters of Anselm among
my most important materials. They form one of our sources for the
details of his own appointment to the archbishopric (see p. 400),
while his correspondence with Cardinal Walter has given us (see p.
537, and vol. ii. p. 41) some details not found elsewhere with regard
to the campaign against Robert of Mowbray. We have also had, in one of
his letters to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons (iii. 24, see p. 419),
Anselm’s fullest account of the questions which led to the Assembly at
Rockingham. The correspondence of course goes on into the reign of
Henry, and many of the letters which pass between the King and the
Archbishop are in fact state papers, and are, as such, inserted by
Eadmer in his history. The immediate historical value of these belongs
of course to a time later than that dealt with in the present volume.
But the whole series is full of matter bearing on English affairs, and
on the affairs of other persons and places in which we are interested.
I will therefore go on to mention some of the matters connected with
our own and kindred subjects which are suggested by the letters here
and there. Many are addressed to Lanfranc, Gundulf, Priors Henry and
Ernulf of Canterbury, and others who play parts of more or less
importance in our story. A good many are to princes of various lands,
many to devout ladies, with the names of some of whom, as those of
Countess Adela, the daughter of the Conqueror, and Countess Ida of
Boulogne, we are already familiar. There are also the special “ladies
and mothers” (dominæ et matres) of the church of Bec, who, without
embracing the monastic profession, had given themselves to a devout
life under the shadow of the monastery (Chronicon Beccense, Lanfranc,
ed. Giles, i. 202; De Nobili Crispinorum Genere, ib. 347; Anselm, Epp.
ii. 26, 51; iii. 138). These were Basilia the wife of Hugh of
Gournay――who himself, with Hugh of Meulan, the father of the famous
Count Robert, became a monk at Bec――her niece Amfrida, and Eva, the
widow of William Crispin. There are also a crowd of letters to
prelates, nobles, monks, nuns, and persons of all kinds, which throw
incidental light on various points in the history of the time.
The close connexion between Bec and England comes out very early in
the series. It is perhaps not inappropriate that the earliest mention
of England concerns its money, which was so much sought after beyond
sea. This is in i. 13, where a moneyer of Arras, who wishes to turn
monk, but who has first to pay his debts, is sent by Anselm, not yet
abbot, to Lanfranc, already archbishop, who will give him a hundred
shillings of English money towards paying them. In i. 15 he writes to
Henry, seemingly the future Prior of Christ Church, who was already in
England, with a piece of advice which we should hardly have expected
from Anselm. Being a monk, he is not to go into Italy to try to defend
his sister whom a certain rich man unjustly claims as a slave or
villain (“ire de Anglia in Italiam sororem tuam defendere, quam audis
quemdam divitem indebitæ servituti calumniose subjicere”). (It is less
unreasonable when (iii. 127) he counsels the nun Matilda not to go and
visit her lay kinsfolk.) In another letter (i. 35) Anselm speaks of
the number of Normans who were crossing into England, and how few of
them there were whom he could trust with a letter (“Licet multi
Northmanni ad Anglos transeant, paucissimi tamen sunt qui, me sciente,
hoc faciant; in quibus paucissimis vix est aliquis quem nostrum
legationem sine dilatione et non negligenter facturum confidam”). This
is written to Maurice, a monk of Bec, who, with some others, had moved
to Canterbury. Of the English monks at Bec (i. 65) I have already said
something (see p. 375). When Anselm becomes abbot, and has to deal
with the possessions of the monastery in England, the references to
English matters naturally thicken, as in ii. 3, 4, 5, 6. This last is
addressed to Richard of Clare and his wife Rohais or Rohesia, the
daughter of Walter Giffard, of whose name the old commentator Picard
oddly says, “insuper nomen Rohais pleno gutture personat Anglismum.”
The next letter (iii. 7) shows that some of the Normans who passed
into England did not always choose the best parts of our character to
copy. For a monk named Henry is rebuked for drinking to excess at
gild-meetings. Here an English word thrusts itself in, and we read,
“audio quia in multis inordinate se agit, et maxime inbibendo, ita ut
in _gildis_ cum ebriosis bibat et cum eis inebrietur.” In ii. 9 Anselm
records one of his own journeys to England, and his reception at
Lyminge by Lanfranc. We have more references to his own English
journeys and those of others in ii. 13, 18, 19, 26 (a most remarkable
one, of which I have spoken in N. C. vol. iv. p. 440), 27, 30, 45, 46
(where he prays for the forgiveness of a runaway monk called Moses of
Canterbury), 47, 53.
Anselm’s letters as archbishop are of course yet fuller of the English
history of the time. The first part of the third book is wholly taken
up with the correspondence following on his appointment to the
archbishopric. The second letter in this book is a most remarkable
letter from Anselm’s friend Osbern (see p. 374) strongly exhorting him
to accept the archbishopric. He is not to set up his own will against
the will of the whole English Church which calls for him as its chief;
“Ut enim in offenso dulcissimo mihi amore tuo loquar, aut
cunctis, quod non credimus, meliorem te fateberis, quippe
cui soli revelatum est quod universæ Anglorum ecclesiæ fas
non erat revelari; aut facias necesse est quod universalis
Anglorum ecclesia suadet, hoc est, ut pontificalis infulæ
principatum inter beatos apostolos sustinere non renuas.”
Osbern goes on to say that Anselm has already proof enough that it is
God’s will that he shall take the offered post. In so doing, he gives
a vivid picture of the circumstances of the appointment and of the Red
King’s momentary reform;
“Quid insignius ad te eligendum ostenderet Deus, quam, ut tu
promovereris, regem triumphis nobilem, severitate cunctis
formidabilem, lecto decubuisse, ad mortem usque ægrotavisse,
te autem provecto, statim eundem respiravisse, convaluisse,
atque ex fero et immani mitissimum pariter et mansuetissimum
redditum fuisse? Quid, inquam, aut effectum dulcius, aut ad
innocentiam præstantius, quam te ante lectum ægrotantis
violenter pertractum, dextram aliorum dextris impudenter de
sinu abstractam, sinistram, ne sororem juvaret, fortiter
retentam, virgam, ceteris digitulis pertinaciter occlusis,
pollici atque indici crudeliter impactam, post hæc toto
corpore e terra te elevatum, episcopalibus brachiis ad
ecclesiam deportatum, ibique adhuc te reclamante, et
importunis nimis obsistente, Te Deum laudamus esse cantatum?
Quid, inquam, vel ad divinas laudes magnificentius vel ad
humana spectacula gaudentius, quam quod in tua electione,
exclusis omnibus transactæ tempestatis afflictionibus, omnia
ad proprii juris possessionem veluti jubileo termino
cucurrerunt, dum vincti ad expeditionem, carcerati ad lucem,
captivi ad libertatem, oppressi dirissimis exactorum
furoribus redierint ad erectionem.”
Osbern clearly had an eye for the comic element in the amazing scene
at Gloucester. He then goes on, among other things, to enlarge on the
dignity of the church of Canterbury. By a bold figure, he conceives
Anselm at the last day called before the judgement-seat, because he
had slain thousands of men, while seeking for the safety of a few
(“cur non cogitabas infinita hominum millia te occidisse, dum paucorum
volebas saluti consulere”). The church of Canterbury, the bride of
Christ, consecrated from the beginning by the blessing of his Apostle
Peter――the same story which we have heard at Westminster (see N. C.
vol. ii. p. 511), and which is told in a slightly different, and still
more daring, shape at Glastonbury――enriched by the privileges of so
many popes, and to which, saving the authority of the Roman church
alone, all the other churches round about were used to look for the
defence of their freedom (“ad quam, salva Romanæ et apostolicæ sedis
auctoritate, omnium circa regionum ecclesiæ in suis oppressionibus
confugere atque ab ea tuendæ libertatis præsidia expetere simul ac
suscipere solebant”), now called on Anselm to come to the succour of
her liberties, and he refused. Osbern draws out this bold metaphor at
great length, and at last disposes of Anselm’s scruples about his
allegiance to the Norman Duke and to the church of Bec (“præmonstravi
oraculis, comprobavi miraculis; verum tu mihi prætulisti Normanniæ
comitem, Deo vermem, viventi mortalem, latitudini Anglorum angustæ
solitudinis nidum”). He draws largely on Canterbury legends about
Laurence and Dunstan, in order to set forth that church as specially
under the divine favour. He, Anselm, had been called in a special way
to be their successor (“cum neque sis privata gratia exhibitus, neque
mercenarius, neque Simonis discipulus, sed quem et divina vocavit
electio et apostolica informavit institutio”), and that call he was
bound to obey.
The word “mercenarius” in the extract just made is perhaps meant to
contrast the palpable purity of Anselm’s nomination with the
appointment of those bishops who, whether they actually bought their
sees or not, at least received them us the reward of temporal
services. There is another letter (iii. 5) from Osbern to Anselm,
which is simply an earnest prayer that he will no longer put off his
full admission to the archbishopric.
There are also several letters of Anselm (iii. 1, 4, 7), and one of
Gundulf (iii. 3), to the monks of Bec, to which some references have
already been made (see pp. 405, 406). There is also one (iii. 6) from
the monks of Bec to Anselm, announcing their consent to his acceptance
of the archbishopric. It describes the division in the convent, how
each monk gave his vote at the call of the president, whom, from this
form of words, we may suppose not to have been the prior (“omnes in
unum congregati sumus, unusquisque nostrum de sua sententia ab eo qui
præsidebat nominatim est requisitus”). The party which opposed
Anselm’s removal is described as “suo potius quam vestro utens atque
fidens consilio, ardentiori, atque, ut sibi videtur, rectiori, amoris
vestri zelo.” The monk Lanfranc, nephew of the Archbishop, a person
who is often mentioned in the letters, is to give Anselm a fuller
account (“quæ pars alteram aut numero aut ratione præponderet, domnus
Lanfrancus, qui interfuit, et omnia hic apud nos gesta sive dicta et
vidit et audivit, plenissime per seipsum et sufficienter vobis
dicit”). We have here a trace of that odd appeal from the “major pars”
to the “sanior,” which seems so utterly to upset every notion of real
election, but which is so often heard of in the ecclesiastical debates
of the time. The letter of the monks however, though not very
positively expressed, seems to have been taken as a release. Other
letters follow, in which Anselm recommends (iii. 8) William of
Montfort (see Vitæ Abbatum Beccensium, i. 313, Giles) as his successor
in the abbacy, and commands the Prior Baldric to keep his place,
whoever may be chosen abbot. In another letter (iii. 15) he announces
to the monks his coming consecration, and tells them that the King has
promised to protect all their rights in England as long as they live
according to Anselm’s counsel (“Rex Anglorum vobis mandat salutem et
auxilium suum et custodiam rerum vestrarum quæ sunt in sua potestate,
quamdiu meo consilio agetis et vivetis. Si autem illud spreveritis, in
illo proficuum non habebetis”). He writes also a letter (iii. 10) to
Bishop Gilbert of Evreux, of whom we have often heard, but who in
Migne’s text is strangely changed into “Eboracensis episcopus,”
explaining his motives for accepting the archbishopric. He writes to
the same effect (iii. 11) to Fulk Bishop of Beauvais.
Once settled in the archbishopric, Anselm has to write about other
matters. The affairs of his province bring much correspondence. Thus
he writes (iii. 20) to Bishop Osbern of Exeter and his canons on
behalf of the monks of Battle (“monasterium quod vulgo dicitur de
Batailla”), who held the church of Saint Olaf at Exeter (see N. C.
vol. ii. p. 350, vol. iv. pp. 166, 406; Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 64). He
urges that they may be allowed to ring their bells. In a letter (iii.
23) to Ralph Abbot of Seez, afterwards Anselm’s own successor, we get
a mention of Bishop Herewald of Llandaff (see N. C. vol. ii. pp. 447,
692), who, it seems, like his brother bishop Wilfrith of Saint David’s
(see p. 534), had been suspended from the episcopal office;
“De fratre illo quem dicitis esse ordinatum a quodam
episcopo, quia a nobis est interdictus, hoc respondeo, quia
si ordinatus est ab episcopo de Walis, qui vocatur
Herewardus, nec illis ordinibus, quos ab illo accepit,
nostra concessione aliquando utetur, nec ab ullo episcopo
reordinari debet.”
The same letter contains Anselm’s views, not on any matter touching
Norman or English history, but on a point of obvious morality which
had been dealt with long ago by the singer of the Odyssey (i.
260-263);
“De altero vero fratre, qui herbas quæsivit mulieri, quibus
virum suum interficeret, quamvis prope vos habeatis de hac
re in Northmannia sufficiens consilium, tamen quia a me hoc
petitis, nostrum negare non debeo sensum. Si monachus noster
esset, et vir ille cujus morti quæsivit herbas ipsis
interfectus esset, nunquam ad diaconatum per me, vel ad
sacerdotium ascenderet.”
Next follows the great letter to Archbishop Hugh of Lyons, to which I
have often referred; and not long after come the important letters
(iii. 35, 36), of which also I have often spoken. In iii. 29 Anselm
writes to Prior Henry and the rest of the monks of Christ
Church――among them Anthony, Ernulf, and Osbern, all names known to
us――charging them to leave off disputes, and to enforce holy
obedience. Next (iii. 30) comes a letter to Matilda Abbess of Wilton
(Wintoniensis in Migne), urging obedience to the diocesan Bishop
Osmund of Salisbury. The house of Saint Werburh at Chester, in whose
foundation Anselm had had a hand, comes in several times for his
notice (iii. 34, 49). A crowd of letters bearing on points in the
history later than our time may be passed by, but there are two very
singular ones which throw a curious light on English nomenclature. In
iii. 133 we have a letter thus addressed;
“Anselmus archiepiscopus amico et filio carissimo Roberto,
et sororibus et filiabus suis dilectissimis Seit, Edit et
Hydit, Luverim, Virgit, Godit, salutem et benedictionem Dei
et suam, si quid valet.”
In the second letter, numbered in Migne iv. 110, the heading is,
“Anselmus archiepiscopus, Roberto, Seyt, Edit, carissimis suis filiis,
salutem et benedictionem Dei, quantum potest.” The persons addressed
seem to have been devout women of some kind, living under the
spiritual care of their confessor Robert. The letters tell us nothing
as to the position of the persons addressed; they contain nothing but
good advice which might be useful in any time or place; but the names
seem to have greatly perplexed the German and French biographers of
Anselm. Hasse (Anselm von Canterbury, i. 502) says, “Interessant ist
besonders ein Brief an die Nonnen eines Klosters in Wales, wie es
scheint,” and he adds in a note;
“Ich schliesse dies aus den Namen ‘Seit, Edit, Hydit,
Luverim, Virgit, Godit’ die in der Ueberschrift genannt
werden. Ob es wohl _weibliche_ Namen sind? In dem Briefe v.
16 [iv. 110, Migne] werden nämlich dieselben Personen als
_filii_ (wenn dies nicht ein Druckfehler ist) angeredet, die
hier [iii. 133, Migne] _filiæ_ heissen. Ein _celtisches_
Kloster war es jedenfalls; doch kann es auch in Irland oder
Schottland gewesen sein.”
M. de Rémusat (S. Anselme de Cantorbéry, 177) had yet further lights;
“On suppose qu’une lettre adressée à Robert _son ami et son
fils très cher, et à ses sœurs et filles bien-aimées_, qui,
toutes, portent de bizarres noms, a pour objet d’encourager
et de guider une congrégation de femmes qui, sous la
direction de quelques missionnaires, essayait de se former
dans une province Galloise.”
There is really something very amusing in the difficulties of these
scholars over a list of people one of whom bears the very commonest of
English female names at the time. M. de Rémusat at least knew the
earlier name of Queen Matilda, and can bring it in where it is not to
be found in his authorities. For he makes the abbess in the story of
Hermann of Tournay (see vol. ii. p. 32, and Appendix EE) enlarge on
“la beauté de la jeune Edithe,” though in that story she bears no name
at all. “Godit” too, that is “Godgyth” or “Godgifu,” is clear enough;
and a little knowledge of English nomenclature will carry us through
most of the others, even though some of them may be rare or unique.
“Seit” must he “Sigegyth,” a perfectly possible name. “Virgit” would
seem to be “Wergyth,” also quite possible, while “Luverim,” which the
manuscripts write in two or three ways, is surely a wild miswriting of
Leofrune, of a bearer of which name we have heard something in N. C.
vol. i. p. 352. “Hydit” is the only name on the list about which there
can be any real difficulty; it is clearly one of the _-gyth_ names,
though it is not easy to see what the first half of the name is. It is
perhaps a little odd when Anselm addresses Robert and his sisterhood
as “filii” in the second letter, but the form is surely a lawful
shortening of “filius et filiæ.” There is, one would think, a certain
pleasing international unity in this picture of a company of
Englishwomen, directed, it would seem, by a Norman priest, and so
lovingly addressed by a Burgundian archbishop. Anyhow there is no need
to doubt of the sex of Eadgyth and Godgyth, or to carry them off to
Wales, Scotland, Ireland, or anywhere but the land of their own
speech.
* * * * *
Anselm had other nuns and other devout women to write to and about,
besides the bearers of these supposed puzzling names. There are
several letters, as iii. 125, to a certain Abbess Eulalia. In iii. 70
he writes (in Henry the First’s time) to Athelis or Adeliza, Abbess of
Wilton (it is again Wi_n_tonia in Migne’s text), comforting her during
the banishment of William Giffard, bishop-elect of Winchester (see
vol. ii. p. 349). More important is the letter (iii. 51) in which he
sends the Archdeacon Stephen to hinder the abbess and nuns of Romsey
from paying the worship of a saint to some person lately dead (“Tunc
ex toto prohibeant ut nullus honor, qui alicui sancto exhiberi debet,
exhibeatur ab illis, aut permittant ab aliquo exhiberi mortuo illi
quem quidam volunt pro sancto haberi”). This reminds one of the story
of Abbot Ulfcytel and the worship of Waltheof (see N. C. vol. iv. p.
598); but we need not suppose, with the old commentator in Migne, that
the person worshipped was Waltheof himself. For it is added that the
son of the dead man is to be driven out of the town, and Waltheof left
no son. In iii. 84 he writes to Matilda, the first abbess of the house
of the Trinity at Caen (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 630), about her intended
resignation of her abbey. On other monastic affairs there are several
letters, as iii. 61, 118, about the affairs of the abbey of Saint
Eadmund, whose prior bears the English name of Ælfhere. He speaks of
their tribulations and the patience with which they bore them; the
letters therefore most likely refer to the difficulties which followed
the appointment of Abbot Robert (see p. 359). There are two letters
(iii. 100, 108) addressed to a monk Ordwine, in the latter of which he
is coupled with two others, Farman――can he be the aged friend of
Eadmer?――and Benjamin, which last name we should hardly have looked
for. The first letter is a very important one; it deals with the
subject of investitures, and distinctly shows that Anselm had no
objection of his own to investiture by the King;
“Non ego prohibeo per me a rege dari investituras
ecclesiarum, sed quia audivi apostolicum in magno concilio
excommunicare laicos dantes illas investituras et
accipientes, et qui accipientes sacrabunt, nolo communicare
excommunicatis nec fieri excommunicatus.”
This letter contains also a good deal about the relations of laymen to
churches as patrons or “custodes” (see p. 455, and N. C. vol. v. p.
501). In iii. 83, when already Archbishop, Anselm writes to Eustace,
the father of Geoffrey a monk of Bec, at his son’s instance, rebuking
him for a singular kind of bigamy. His wife, the mother of Geoffrey,
had become a nun, and he himself had taken a vow; but had nevertheless
married a second wife. Anselm argues that, whether he had taken a vow
or not, still, though his wife had become a nun, it is unlawful for
him to marry again during her lifetime. Of a more strictly domestic
nature are the letters to his sister Richera or Richeza, and her
husband Burgundius (iii. 63, 66, 67). Burgundius is meditating a
pilgrimage to Jerusalem; and he exhorts him so to order his affairs
before he goes that his wife may not lose her estate in case he dies
by the way.
* * * * *
Anselm’s correspondence with royal and princely persons in various
parts is very large. There are many letters to King Henry, in one of
which (iii. 79) he cannot keep himself from the established pun on the
name of Henry’s people. He prays, “Ut Deus vos et vestra sic regat et
protegat in gloria temporalis regni super Anglos, quatenus in æterna
felicitate regnare faciat inter angelos.”
He writes (iv. 81) a letter of rebuke to his old friend Earl Hugh,
about the captivity of one monk of Clugny, and the irregular burial of
another. He warns the Earl frankly; “Familiariter dico vobis, sicut
homini cujus honorem et utilitatem multum amo, quia si non feceritis
quod dico, inde blasphemabimini; et ego etiam si non fecero quod
ecclesiastica disciplina præcipit inde fieri, a multis blasphemabor.”
To his former enemy Count Robert of Meulan he writes a letter during
his second exile which is given by Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 82), where the
Count is addressed as “dominus et amicus;” in another (iv. 99) he is
advanced to “dominus et amicus carissimus,” and is addressed as
“vestra dilectio.” The subject of the letter is the endless dispute
between York and Canterbury. The mention of the younger Thomas as
archbishop-elect fixes the date to about 1108.
* * * * *
Among foreign kings and princes there is (iii. 65) a graceful letter
to his native sovereign, Humbert Count and Marquess, written, it would
seem, at the time of his first passing into Italy. Nearer to his
Norman and English dwelling-places, we find him receiving during his
exile a letter from King Philip (iv. 50) offering his sympathy and
help, and praying for a visit in his dominions, chiefly for the sake
of Anselm’s bodily health;
“Cæterum quia in loco corporeæ sanitati contrario exsulatis,
rogamus vos quatenus Galliam nostram vestro adventu visitare
dignemini, ibique affectum mentis meæ experiemini, et vestræ
consuletis sanitati. Valete.”
A letter to the same effect, which must belong to Anselm’s second
exile, follows from Philip’s worthier successor, Lewis (iv. 51).
Both the famous chiefs of the Cenomannian state came in for a share of
Anselm’s correspondence. In iv. 11 we have one letter of Anselm to
Hildebert, but it contains no historical information. There are
several (iii. 53, 160, 161, 162) from Hildebert to Anselm, all
theological, and in which we could have wished that the Bishop of Le
Mans could have brought himself to speak more civilly of the eastern
half of Christendom. More interesting is a letter (iv. 98) addressed
“Domino et amico, et in Deo dilectissimo Eliæ comiti,” full of praise
and affection for the noble Count, and granting him absolution for
some fault not described (“Absolutionem nostram, quam per eundem
fratrem, sicut ipse mihi retulit, a me petitis, et corde, et ore, et
scriptura dilectioni vestræ mitto, et quotidie pro vobis oro”).
To Countess Ida of Boulogne (see pp. 374, 384) he writes as an
intimate friend (iii. 56, 58). In the former of these we hear of her
chaplain Lambert, who was in England in her service. He seems to have
been a canon of some chapter, and to have been in danger of losing
part of the income of his prebend on account of his absence. To
Countess Clemence of Flanders, wife of Count Robert of Jerusalem and
niece of Pope Calixtus, he writes (iii. 59), praising her and her
husband, because certain abbots in Flanders are admitted without the
Count’s investiture;
“Relatum mihi est quosdam abbates in Flandria sic
constitutos ut comes vir vester nullam cis manu sua daret
investituram. Quod sicut non sine ejus prudenti _clementia_
ita non esse æstimo factum absque vestra _clementi_
prudentia.” The play on the Countess’s name reminds one of
King Robert and “O constantia martyrum.” In iv. 13 there is
a letter to Count Robert, to the same effect as that to his
wife.
But the care of Anselm extended to more distant, at least less known
lands. He has two letters (iii. 142, 147) to King Murtagh in Ireland;
but they deal only with the reforms needed in Murtagh’s own island.
So, at a later time than ours, he writes (iii. 132) a letter to
Alexander King of Scots, in which he mentions certain monks whom he
had sent into Scotland at the request of the late King Eadgar, of whom
he speaks most highly. When in a letter to a King of Scots we read
that “quidem reges, sicut David, sancte vixerunt,” we are apt to
forget that, in Alexander’s reign, the reference must still be to the
King of Israel. Where such a reference would have been strictly to the
merits of a predecessor, namely, in two letters to King Baldwin of
Jerusalem (iv. 10, 36), it is not found; and the exhortations are very
general.
* * * * *
Nor does Anselm forget the Scandinavian lands. He writes (iv. 92) a
letter of good advice to Hakon Earl of Orkney, who had received the
earldom of his father Paul after the death of Magnus of Norway. He
writes about the religious ignorance of the people, which he hopes
will be reformed by the bishop who had lately been sent to them. As
Hakon only received his earldom in 1105, this letter must belong to
the last years of Anselm’s life. The murder of Saint Magnus by Hakon,
followed by the murderer’s repentant pilgrimage to Jerusalem, did not
happen till after Anselm’s death (see Torfæi Orcades, p. 86, where the
date of Magnus’s murder is fixed to 1110). He has two letters (iii.
143, iv. 90) about the newly-founded archbishopric of Lund in Denmark.
At another end of Christendom he writes to Diacus, Bishop of Saint
James of Compostella. The Spanish Bishop asks for English help against
the Saracens, and he answers that England is so beset by wars at home
that he fears that no help can be given.
To the Popes Urban and Paschal he naturally writes some very important
letters, some of which have been already referred to. There is one
(iii. 37) to Urban, in which he sets forth his strong desire to come
to Rome, and alleges the wars which were raging everywhere as the
cause of the King’s unwillingness to let him go.
“Quia bellis undique quatimur, hostiles impetus indesinenter et
insidias adversantium metuimus, dominus noster rex extra regnum me
procedere hactenus non permisit, nec adhuc procedere posse ullatenus
assensit…. Sed inter hæc, quo labore, quaque anxietate gravatus, iter
arripere conarer, si omnipotens Deus et in regno Anglorum bella
sedaret, et in regnis et regnorum provinciis, per quas ad vos est
eundum, illam pacem tribueret, quemadmodum oporteret et expediret iter
ipsum explere liceret.”
This letter one would have been inclined to place in 1097; but, unless
we can understand the “regnum Anglorum” as taking in Wales, the
mention of wars would seem to fix it to the time of the rebellion of
Robert of Mowbray in 1095, when the war did indeed affect Anselm’s
movements. In the same letter he makes intercession for Fulk Bishop of
Beauvais, one of the prelates to whom he had written at the time of
his own appointment to the archbishopric (see iii. 11, and above, p.
576), on account of some matter which is not explained.
To Paschal he writes a most important letter (iii. 40) at some time
during the short interval between Paschal’s election and William’s
death; here he sets forth his own case very distinctly;
“Videbam in Anglia multa mala quorum ad me pertinebat
correctio, quæ nec corrigere nec sine peccato meo tolerare
poteram. Exigebat enim a me rex ut voluntatibus suis, quæ
contra legem et voluntatem Dei erant, sub nomine
_rectitudinis_ assensum præberem. Nam sine sua jussione
apostolicum nolebat recipi aut appellari in Anglia, nec ut
epistolam ei mitterem aut ab eo missam reciperem, vel
decretis ejus obedirem. Concilium non permisit celebrari in
regno suo ex quo rex factus jam per tredecim annos. Terras
ecclesiæ hominibus suis dabat; in omnibus his et similibus
si consilium petebam, omnes de regno ejus etiam suffraganei
mei episcopi negabant se consilium daturos nisi secundum
voluntatem regis.”
Here we have Anselm’s grievances very clearly set forth, and without
any kind of exaggeration or strong language of any kind. We may also
mark the legal term “rectitudo.” He next goes on to describe the
council of Winchester;
“Hæc et multa alia, quæ contra voluntatem et legem Dei sunt,
videns, petii licentiam ab eo sedem adeundi apostolicam, ut
inde consilium de anima mea et de officio mihi injuncto
acciperem. Respondit rex me in se peccasse pro sola
postulatione hujus licentiæ, et proposuit mihi ut aut de hac
re, sicut de culpa, satisfacerem, et securum illum redderem
ne amplius peterem hanc licentiam, nec aliquando apostolicum
appellarem, aut de terra ejus cito exirem.”
He then describes the dealings of the King with the estates of the see
after he was gone, and speaks of the dealings of Urban with the King,
in the style in which it was perhaps becoming to speak to a Pope of
the dealings of his predecessor;
“Rex, mox ut de Anglia exivi, taxato simpliciter victu et
vestitu monachorum nostrorum, totum archiepiscopatum invasit
et in proprios usus convertit. Monitus et rogatus a domino
papa ut hoc corrigeret contempsit, et adhuc in hoc
perseverat.”
He then asks the Pope that he may not be commanded to return to
England, “nisi ita ut legem et voluntatem Dei et decreta apostolica
voluntati hominis liceat mihi præferre: et nisi rex mihi terras
ecclesiæ reddiderit, et quidquid de archiepiscopatu propter hoc quia
sedem apostolicam petii, accepit.”
Presently a wholly new set of questions was opened by the accession of
Henry and the second controversy. Anselm’s account, it will be seen,
strictly agrees with the narrative of Eadmer, and we may again mark
that he does not speak of lay investitures as a grievance. That is to
say, William Rufus had not been to blame, or at least Anselm had not
found out that he was to blame, for continuing the ancient custom of
his kingdom. Henry was to blame because he claimed to continue that
right in the teeth of the new decrees, and of the new lights which
Anselm had learned from them.
NOTE Z. Vol. i. p. 395.
ROBERT BLOET.
There is something startling in the simple way in which the Chronicler
(1093) puts together the appointment of Anselm and that of Robert
Bloet; “And þæt arcebiscoprice on Cantwarbyrig, þe ær on his agenre
hand stód, Anselme betæhte, se wæs ær abbot on Bǽc, and Rodbeard
his cancelere þæt biscoprice on Lincolne.” Florence translates, with a
word or two of explanation inserted; “Insuper Anselmo Beccensi abbati
qui tunc _in Anglia morabatur_, Dorubernensem archiepiscopatum, et
cancellario suo Rotberto, _cognomento Bloet_, Lindicolinensem dedit
præsulatum.” But this way of speaking is quite of a piece with the
small amount of notice which the Chronicler seems throughout to give
to Anselm and his affairs. That is, we are used to read the story of
Anselm in Eadmer in the minutest detail, and we are surprised to find
his story told in the Chronicle only on the same scale as the stories
of other people.
We have heard of Robert Bloet before, as one high in the confidence of
both Williams, father and son (see vol. i. p. 13). As a bishop, he is
one of those persons of whom William of Malmesbury wrote an account
which he afterwards found it expedient to alter. In his received text
(Gest. Pont. 313) he is brought in in a singular and sneering way. The
writer had just recorded the death of Remigius before he was able to
consecrate the minster, and he then gives this account of his
successor;
“Rem dilatam successor ejus non graviter explevit, utpote
qui in labores alterius delicatus intrasset; Rotberto Bloet
homini nomen. Vixit in episcopatu annis paulo minus xxxᵗᵃ,
decessitque procul a sede apud Wdestoche, cum regio lateri
cum alio quodam episcopo adequitaret, subito fato
interceptus. Cetera satis suis hilaris et parum gravis,
negotiorum scientia secularium nulli secundus,
ecclesiasticorum non ita. Ecclesiam cui sedit ornamentis
pretiossissimis decoravit. Defuncti corpus exinteratum, ne
tetris nidoribus vitiaret aerem. Viscera Egnesham, reliqua
Lindocolinæ sepulta sunt. Monachos enim qui apud Stou
fuerunt vivens Eglesham [Egnesham] migraverat.”
Here we have the implied picture of a bishop of the more worldly sort,
and we can see that he was not in good favour with monks. But no
particular fault is brought against him. But in the earlier version,
the text, after the words “homini nomen,” reads, “Qui nihil unquam
pensi fecerit, quominus omnis libidinis et infamis et reus esset. In
cunctam religionem protervus, monachos Stou summoveri et apud Egnesham
locari jussit. Gratis malus et gloriæ antecessoris invidus, a vicinis
monachis sua commoda præverti causabatur. Quocirca, si monachi
Egneshamnenses Dei dono pulchrum incrementum acceperint, procul illi
gratias, quibus eximium se gloriabatur commodum inferre si vel illos
sineret vivere.”
There is enough here to show that Robert Bloet was thoroughly disliked
by the monks everywhere on account of his dealings with their brethren
at Stow in removing them to Eynsham. His dislike to monks is also
witnessed by the Chronicler, 1123, in recording the election of
William of Corbeuil to the see of Canterbury (see N. C. vol. v. p.
236); “Ðis wæs eall ear gedon ðurh se biscop of Seresbyrig, and þurh
se biscop of Lincolne, ær he wære dead, forði þet næfre ne luueden hi
munece regol, ac wæron æfre togænes muneces and here regol.”
On the other hand, Robert Bloet has not been without his admirers and
defenders both in his own time and since. Henry of Huntingdon, who was
brought up in his court, always speaks of him with the deepest
affection; and in our time he has found a gallant champion in Mr.
Dimock in his preface to the seventh volume of Giraldus, pp. xxiii. et
seq. Henry, like Florence, has the Chronicle before him in recording
the appointments of Anselm and Robert, and he too makes (vii. 3. p.
216) his insertions. With him the passage stands thus;
“Dedit [junior Willelmus] archiepiscopatum Cantuariæ Anselmo
abbati, viro sancto et venerabili. Roberto quoque cognomento
Bloet cancellario suo, dedit episcopatum Lincoliæ, quo non
erat alter forma venustior, mente serenior, affatu dulcior.”
Further on he records his death in 1123 (p. 244), and gives him a
splendid epitaph. He is “pontificum Robertus honor,” and his special
virtues fill two elegiac couplets;
“Hic humilis dives, (res mira,) potens pius, ultor
Compatiens, mitis cum pateretur erat.
Noluit esse suis dominus, studuit pater esse,
Semper in adversis murus et arma suis.”
He speaks of him again in the letter “de Contemptu Mundi” (p. 299),
where he gives a glowing description of the splendour of his court,
and speaks of him as “ipse quasi pater et deus omnium æstimatus,” and
as “justitiarius totius Angliæ et ab omnibus summe formidatus.” He
then goes on to quote him as an example, like so many others, of the
uncertainty of earthly prosperity. He tells how he was troubled before
his death by law-suits brought by some inferior justiciar, and then
records his death at Woodstock. He adds, “Fuit autem Robertus præsul
mitis et humilis, multos erigens, nullum deprimens, pater orphanorum,
deliciæ suorum.” Further on (p. 305) we learn that Robert Bloet had a
son named Simon, who was born before he was Bishop, but whom he made
Dean of Lincoln while he was very young. Simon’s prosperity and
unhappy end are also among the instances which are to lead to
“contemptus mundi.” He is thus brought in;
“Decanum nostrum Simonem non prætereo, qui filius Roberti
præsulis nostri fuit; quem genuerat dum cancellarius
Willelmi magni regis esset. Qui, ut decebat, regaliter
nutritus, et adhuc impubis decanus noster effectus, in
summam regis amicitiam et curiales dignitates mox provectus
est.”
We may be sure that it was the existence of this son which caused
Bishop Robert to be reproached with looseness of life. Yet Simon may
very likely have been born in lawful wedlock, though it is hardly safe
to assume with Mr. Dimock that he certainly was. But, when Robert had
once become an object of monastic dislike, stories grew as usual; it
was found out that his tomb in Lincoln minster was haunted. So says
the so-called Bromton (X Scriptt. 988), who is copied by Knighton
(2364);
“Episcopatum Lincolniensem, per mortem sancti Remigii
vacantem, Roberto cognomento Bloet cancellario suo, viro
quidem libidinoso, dedit, qui prædictam ecclesiæ
dedicationem Lincolniensis postea segniter explevit. Hic
demum apud Wodestoke a latere regis recedens obiit et
exenteratus est, cujus viscera apud monasterium de Eynesham
quod ipse fundaverit, cetera apud Lincolniam sunt humata,
ubi satis constabat loci custodes nocturnis umbris esse
agitatos, quousque ille locus missis et eleemosynis
piaretur.”
The reputation which Bishop Robert left behind him at Lincoln we learn
from Giraldus and John of Schalby in the seventh volume of Dimock’s
Giraldus. Giraldus himself (p. 31) brings him in as “prudentia et
probitate conspicuus.” He records his gifts to his church, and his
doubling the number of its prebends. From a Lincoln point of view, he
highly approves of the translation of the monks of Stow to Eynsham;
but he seems not to like the separation of Ely from the diocese of
Lincoln (see N. C. vol. v. p. 229), and he speaks of Robert’s
“inconsiderata largitio” and “alia sui deliramenta” in charging his
see with the gift of a mantle of sable, worth a hundred pounds, to the
King. John of Schalby (195) copies Giraldus, but abridges him, and
leaves out some of his epithets both of praise and blame.
* * * * *
The death of Bishop Robert in 1123 is recorded by several of our
writers, but there is no account so graphic as that in our own tongue.
The King is riding in his deerfold at Woodstock with the two bishops,
Robert of Lincoln and Roger of Salisbury, on either side of him. The
three ride and talk. The Bishop of Lincoln suddenly sinks, and says to
the King, “Lord King, I die (Laferd kyng, ic swelte).” The King gets
down from his horse, lifts him in his arms, and has him carried into
the house, where he soon dies (“Se king alihte dune of his hors, and
alehte hine betweox his earmes, and let hine beran ham to his inne,
and wearð þa sone dead”). Does this “inne” mean the King’s own house
at Woodstock, or any separate quarters of the Bishop, like the
“hospitium” of Anselm at Gloucester and elsewhere?
* * * * *
There is something odd in the Bishop’s last words being given in
English. The King knew that tongue, and the Bishop may very likely
have done so; but we can hardly fancy that they spoke it to one
another.
The name “Bloet,” according to M. de Rémusat (Anselme, 160), is the
same as “blond.”
NOTE AA. Vol. i. p. 553.
THE MISSION OF ABBOT GERONTO.
I am not aware that this mission of the Abbot of Dijon has hitherto
found any place in any narrative history of the times of William
Rufus. And I confess that it is not without a certain misgiving that I
bring it in. It is certainly remarkable that our own writers should
with one consent pass by an event of this kind; but it would be yet
more amazing if it were sheer mistake or invention on the part of the
foreign writer who records it. It is one of those cases in which,
without any actual contradiction, it is very hard to bring a certain
statement into its right place. There is nothing in the story told by
Hugh of Flavigny which is really inconsistent with the narrative of
Eadmer; our only difficulty is how it came that, if these things
happened, Eadmer, who could not fail to have known of them, did not
think them worthy of any place in his very minute narrative. This
difficulty we must get over how we can. Otherwise the evidence of Hugh
of Flavigny is in a certain sense as good as that of Eadmer himself.
He stood to Abbot Geronto in much the same relation in which Eadmer
stood to Anselm. In his narrative, Geronto is sent by the Pope on a
mission to Normandy and England, and Hugh himself, a monk of Geronto’s
monastery, comes with him. For the mere facts therefore of Geronto’s
mission Hugh is as good a witness as Eadmer; but, as a foreigner on a
short visit, he could not be expected to have the same thorough
knowledge of English affairs as Eadmer, or any other English, or even
Norman, writer. There is to us at least something very strange in his
tone towards Anselm, or rather in the lack of any mention of Anselm at
all. He never speaks of him by name, and the only fact which he
records of him is the very strange one which I have mentioned in p.
535, that at some time, seemingly at the reception of the pallium,
Anselm took an oath to the Pope, with a reservation of his duty to the
King. One hardly sees how far he means to blame Anselm. The person
chiefly blamed is Cardinal Walter; Anselm comes in, in a strange
casual way, between the King and the Cardinal.
I have given the whole or nearly the whole of Hugh’s story in the
foot-notes to those parts of the text which are founded upon his
account. He goes on a little later in his story (Pertz, viii. 495,
496) to record the death of William Rufus, and to say something more
about English affairs in general. It is plain that his friends in
England found him perfectly ready to believe the wildest tales that
they chose to tell him. At the same time, the tales that they did tell
him are such as could hardly have come into any man’s head to tell,
except in the reign of William Rufus. It is Hugh of Flavigny who tells
us those specially amazing stories to which I have referred in vol. i.
p. 544 and p. 503. He has also (496) some odd notices of the dogs of
the city of London, which were small, but very fierce, and which
gathered together by night in front of Saint Paul’s church, so that no
one could dare to pass by. He has also a good deal to say about those
natural phænomena of the reign of which we have heard a good deal from
other writers. He tells the story of the storm which visited the
church of Saint Mary-le-bow, with some further embellishment, that
“quadros super muri altitudinem sitos, supra quos tectum stabilitum
erat, usque ad septem milliaria evolare fecit.” And while two servants
of the church were sleeping in one bed, a beam was driven down between
them into the earth without doing them any harm, except nearly
frightening them to death; “In eadem etiam ecclesia jacebat quidem
ædituus cum alio quodam in lecto uno, et inter medium eorum, cum
jacerent distante inter se spacio, una trabium vento acta per medium
lecti terram intravit, ut vix summitas ejus appareret, nec læsit
jacentes, nisi quod timore pene exanimati sunt.”
Hugh’s Chronicle, in two books, reaches from the Christian æra to the
year 1102. He was born at Verdun in 1065. He was a monk, first at
Verdun, then at Flavigny in the diocese of Toul, then at Dijon, and
lastly Abbot of Flavigny. Jarento or Geronto――I hardly know how to
spell his name――was in the close confidence of Gregory the Seventh and
his successors. There is a letter of Anselm’s (iii. 87) addressed to
Geronto; but it contains nothing bearing on his mission to England. It
is all concerned with the affairs of certain monks at Dijon and
Chartres.
NOTE BB. Vol. ii. p. 9.
THE EMBASSIES BETWEEN WILLIAM RUFUS AND MALCOLM IN 1093.
The fullest and clearest narrative of the transactions between William
Rufus and Malcolm which led to their rupture at Gloucester in 1093
comes from the Chronicle, while some particular points are given at
greater length by Florence. In the Chronicle the story runs thus;
“Ða æfter þisson sende [se] cyng of Scotlande and þære
forewarde gyrnde þe him behaten wæs, and se cing W. him
steofnode to Gloweceastre and him to Scotlande gislas sende,
and Eadgar æþeling æfter, and þa men syððan ongean, þe hine
mid mycclon wurðscipe to þam cynge brohtan. As þa þa he to
þam cynge com, ne mihte he beon weorðe naðer ne ure cynges
spæce ne þæra forewarde þe him ær behatene wæron, and forði
hi þa mid mycclon unsehte tohwurfon.”
Here we have very clearly an embassy of complaint sent by Malcolm to
William――an invitation or summons, whichever it is to be called, to
the Gemót at Gloucester sent by William to Malcolm and accompanied by
hostages for his safety――a second embassy from William to Malcolm,
with Eadgar at its head, in whose company Malcolm’s ambassadors went
back to Scotland and Malcolm himself came to England. All this is cut
short by Florence, who however distinctly affirms the going to and fro
of some embassies, while it is from him that we get the date and a
fuller account of what happened at Gloucester. His narrative stands
thus;
“Rex Scottorum Malcolmus, die festivitatis S. Bartholomæi
Apostoli [24 Aug.], regi Willelmo juniori, ut prius per
legatos inter eos statutum fuerat, in civitate Glaworna
occurrit, ut, sicut quidam primatum Angliæ voluerunt, pace
redintegrata, stabilis inter eos amicitia firmaretur; sed
impacati ab invicem discesserunt; nam Malcolmum videre aut
cum eo colloqui, præ nimia superbia et potentia, Willelmum
despexit.”
_Colloqui_ is the technical word which we so often come across. The
meeting of the two kings would have been a _colloquium_ or
_parliament_. It is from Florence again that we get all the technical
law. His account goes on thus;
“Insuper etiam illum [Malcolmum] ut secundum judicium tantum suorum
[Willelmi] baronum, in curia sua rectitudinem ei faceret, constringere
voluit; sed id agere, nisi in regnorum suorum confiniis, ubi reges
Scottorum erant soliti rectitudinem facere regibus Anglorum, et
secundum judicium primatum utriusque regni, nullo modo Malcolmus
voluit.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 311) loses the fact of the embassies and
the summons in a cloud of words;
“Multis controversiis utrobique habitis, et fluctuante
propter utrorumque animositatem justitia, Malcolmus ultro
Gloecestram venit, æquis duntaxat conditionibus, multus pro
pace precator.”
With regard to more modern discussions, I do not know that I can do
more than give the reader the same references which I gave in N. C.
vol. v. p. 120. But Mr. Robertson (i. 144 note) certainly has reason
when he says that “it does not follow that Malcolm spoke feudal Latin
because Florence wrote it.” One would be glad to have the actual words
in French, English, or, more precious than all, Irish. (This sets one
thinking what languages Malcolm may have spoken. We know that he
understood English, whether he learned it at the court of Eadward, or
afterwards from his wife. In one or other of those schools he would
most likely also pick up French. Margaret herself may also have
learned High Dutch, and possibly Magyar, from her parents.) But I can
make nothing of Mr. Robertson’s strange comment that “it is singular
to mark how nearly all the English authorities accuse Malcolm of ‘a
breach of faith’ because he resented the conduct of William, whilst
they pass over without notice the glaring ‘breach of faith’ on the
part of their own king.” Who charges Malcolm with any breach of faith,
except William of Malmesbury in the almost casual passage, iii. 250?
And what more could he wish the Chronicler and Florence to say against
William Rufus than what they do say? Mr. Robertson’s criticism is more
to the purpose when he attacks the words of William of Malmesbury, iv.
311; “Nec quicquam obtinuit, nisi ut in regnum indemnis rediret,
dedignante rege dolo capere quem virtute subegisset.” He remarks that
“the safe-conduct and the hostages detract something from this much
vaunted magnanimity, but Malmesbury would sacrifice a good deal for
the sake of a well-turned period.” It is certainly hard to see what
William had done to Malcolm which could be called “virtute subegisse;”
but Mr. Robertson fails to notice that this particular scruple is
characteristic of William Rufus. Careless of his faith in so many
other cases, he is always careful to observe a safe-conduct.
NOTE CC. Vol. ii. p. 16.
THE DEATH OF MALCOLM.
The last invasion of England by Malcolm was clearly made in reprisal
for the treatment which he had received at Gloucester. The words of
the Peterborough Chronicler are very remarkable. They seem to describe
a war which is acknowledged to be just in itself, but which is carried
on with needless cruelty;
“And se cyng Melcolm ham to Scotlande gewænde. Ac hraðe þaes
þe he ham com he his fyrde gegaderode.”
Most of the other writers fail to bring out the connexion both of time
and of cause and effect between the scene at Gloucester and the
invasion which led to Malcolm’s death at Alnwick. Perhaps we may count
Matthew Paris, the zealous panegyrist of Malcolm, as an exception. He
has nothing to tell us about Malcolm’s coming to Gloucester; but,
having mentioned William’s sickness there, which he wrongly places in
1092, he goes on (i. 43);
“Eodem anno pius rex Scotorum Malcolmus, cujus actus in
benedictione vivunt immortales, cum non immerito contra
tirannum Willelmum II. regem sibi injuriantem guerram
movisset, interceptus est subito et, positis insidiis,
interemptus.”
So in a later passage (i. 47) he speaks of Robert of Mowbray
overcoming Malcolm “proditiose.” Moreover several even of the English
writers seem to imply that there was something treacherous about the
way in which Malcolm met his death. The words of the Chronicler are,
“hine þa Rodbeard se eorl of Norðhymbran mid his mannan unwæres
besyrede and ofsloh.” And directly after he describes the grief of
Margaret on hearing “hyre þa leofstan hlaford and sunu þus
_beswikene_.” William of Malmesbury mentions the death of Malcolm
twice, and in rather different tones. The first time (iii. 250) he
seems to jumble up together Malcolm’s two invasions, leaving out all
about the meeting at Gloucester. He had said that through the whole
reign of the Conqueror Malcolm “incertis et sæpe fractis fœderibus
ævum egit,” and adds;
“Filio Willelmi Willelmo regnante, simili modo impetitus,
falso sacramento insequentem abegit. Nec multo post, dum
fidei immemor superbius provinciam inequitaret, a Roberto de
Molbreia comite Northanhimbriæ, cum filio cæsus est.”
In the second place (iv. 311), after describing the meeting at
Gloucester, he adds; “Idem proxima hyeme, ab hominibus Roberti comitis
Humbrensium, magis fraude quam viribus occubuit.” No one would think
from this that Malcolm had gone back to Scotland, got together his
army, and invaded Northumberland. It would rather suggest the idea
that he was attacked on his way back from Gloucester. And this comes
out more strongly in the very confused account of Orderic, 701 C. He
mixes up the events of 1091 and 1093. After the first conference by
the Scots’ water, the two kings go quietly together into England; then
we read;
“Post aliquod tempus, dum Melcoma rex ad sua vellet remeare,
muneribusque multis honoratus a rege rediret pacifice, prope
fines suos Rodbertus de Molbraio, cum Morello nepote suo et
militibus armatis occurrit, et ex insperato inermem
interfecit. Quod audiens rex Anglorum, regnique optimates,
valde contristati sunt, et pro tam fœda re, tamque crudeli,
a Normannis commissa, nimis erubuerunt. Priscum facinus a
modernis iteratum est. Nam sicut Abner, filius Ner, a Joab
et Abisai, de domo David pacifice rediens, dolose peremptus
est, sic Melcoma rex, de curia Guillelmi regis cum pace
remeans, a Molbraianis trucidatus est.”
This is one of those sayings of Orderic by which we are now and then
fairly puzzled. He gets hold of a scriptural or classical parallel,
and seems to be altogether carried away by it. It is hard to see the
likeness between the cases of Malcolm and Abner; but it is harder to
see why the deed is in a marked way attributed to “Normanni,” who seem
to be distinguished from the “rex Anglorum regnique optimates.” In
what sense were Morel and Robert of Mowbray Norman, in which the King
and the great mass of the “optimates” were not Norman just as much?
Confused as these two last accounts are, they still suggest that there
was something about the way in which Robert and Morel contrived the
death of Malcolm which William Rufus would have looked on as not quite
consistent with the character of a “probus miles.” The one word
“beswikene” in the Chronicle doubtless goes for more than any amount
of Latin rhetoric, though its force is a little weakened by its not
occurring in the actual narrative of Malcolm’s death, but in the
account of Margaret’s grief at hearing of it, at which point most of
our writers put on more or less of the tone of hagiology. But the only
writer who gives us any details is Fordun (v. 20), in a passage which
professes to come from Turgot, on which see the remarks of Mr. Hinde
in his Simeon, p. 261. In his story we read how Malcolm,
“Cum maximam prædam ex Anglia, more solito, ultra flumen
These, de Clefeland, Richemond, et alibi sæpius adduceret,
castrumque de Aylnwick, sive Murealden, quod idem est,
obsideret, obsessosque sibi rebellantes oppido affligeret,
hi, qui inclusi fuerant, ab omni humano excludebantur
auxilio.”
The besieged, having no other chance, take to treachery. One man
offers himself to go on the desperate venture; he makes his way to the
Scottish camp, and asks for the King;
“Quærentibus causam inquisitionis dixit, se castrum regi
traditurum, et in argumentum fidei claves ejusdem in hasta
sua coram omnibus portavit oblaturus. Quo audito rex, doli
nescius, incaute a tentorio inermis exiliens et minus
provide, occurrit proditori; at ille, quæsita opportunitate,
inermem regem armatus transfixit, et, latibula silvæ vicinæ
festinanter ingressus, eorum manus evasit.”
Then follows the death of the King’s son Eadward;
“Turbato igitur exercitu, dolor dolorem accumulat: nam
Eadwardus regis primogenitus a Northumbris lethaliter
vulneratur.”
He dies three days later “apud Eardwardisle foresta de Jedwood,” and
was buried at Dunfermline “juxta patrem.”
It is really impossible that this can be a genuine bit of Turgot.
There is nothing anywhere else about a siege of Alnwick, and Mr. Hinde
pertinently raises the question whether there was anything at Alnwick
to besiege. At any rate, it is strange that the defenders of Alnwick,
or anybody else whom Malcolm might come across in Northumberland,
should be called “rebellantes” against him. There is a very mythical
sound about the alleged form of Malcolm’s death. In the Tapestry (see
N. C. vol. iii. p. 240) keys are handed to a victorious besieger on
the point of a spear; but it is from the walls of the besieged place,
and they are received in the like sort. They surely would not be
presented in this way in the King’s own camp. And, if Malcolm was
killed in this way, how came Eadward to be mortally wounded? Mr. Hinde
adds;
“The ridiculous tale of the person who pierced the king’s
eye, receiving from that exploit the designation of ‘Piercy,
quod Anglice sonat perforare oculum,’ is interpolated in
some MSS. of Fordun. This story must necessarily have been
invented after the Percy family became the possessors of
Alnwick, and so gave point, if not probability, to the
fiction.”
* * * * *
I suspect that Malcolm was killed in some ambush or in some other way
unlike open battle. Then sympathy for Margaret called up――except at
Durham and other parts more nearly concerned――sympathy for Malcolm.
Then the Chronicler, in this state of mind, used the harsh word
“beswikene,” and so a tale of actual treachery grew up. The version in
Fordun gives us the story in the form of a detailed legend; in Orderic
the tale itself is still vague; but the events which went before are
so altered as to make any attack on Malcolm treacherous. In that
version, he is going home from the King’s court in the King’s peace.
In the true version, he is invading England, perhaps on just grounds
in his own eyes, certainly on grounds which made his invasion by no
means wonderful. Still resistance to him was a rightful operation of
war, unless there was any actual treachery in the form which the
attack took. That such there was we have no direct evidence; but there
must have been something or other to account for the tone of so many
writers. Florence is colourless; so is Henry of Huntingdon.
* * * * *
The Hyde writer, as usual, takes a line of his own. He speaks (301) of
“quidam Robertus Northamhumbrorum comes, vir dives et potens, qui
regem Scotorum Malcolmum, patrem Matildis reginæ, bellando cum toto
pene exercitu interfecit.” It is not unlikely that the fact that
Malcolm was not only the husband of the sainted Margaret, but also the
father of the popular Queen Eadgyth-Matilda, won for him a measure of
sympathy after his death which he had not enjoyed while he was alive.
Indeed we get this relation distinctly set forth by the Continuator of
William of Jumièges (viii. 8), who after recording the life-long
imprisonment of Robert of Mowbray, adds, “Dictum est a pluribus, hanc
talionem sibi redditam fuisse, quia regem Scotiæ, patrem videlicet
nobilissimæ Mathildis postea reginæ Anglorum, dolose peremerat.”
* * * * *
Alnwick, as the place of Malcolm’s death, and of the capture of
another Scottish king in the next century, awakens a certain amount of
real interest beyond the range of mere legend and misapplied
sentiment. The late Mr. Hartshorne wrote with a strange feeling of
devotion towards anything that did profess and call itself Percy; but
he gives us the facts. All that need be known about Alnwick will be
found in his papers in the Archæological Institute’s second Newcastle
volume, p. 143. Robert of Veci appears in Domesday in several shires
as far north as Lincoln, but of course we cannot track him in the
unsurveyed parts of Northumberland. Of the original Percy we have
heard something in various parts in N. C. vol. iv. pp. 215, 295, 789;
vol. v. p. 773. The second set of Percies, those of Louvain, got to
Alnwick by a grant from Bishop Antony Beck in 1309 (Hartshorne, ii.
150, 152). Very little can be made of the Alnwick Chronicle printed in
Mr. Hartshorne’s Appendix. What can we say to a “William Tisonne” who
dies on the English side at Senlac, and who is the brother of Richard
Tisone who founds chapels in the year 1000, as his father “Gisbright”
founded abbeys before him? In this story the first Norman lord of
Alnwick is Ivo of Veci, who is described as “miles de secretariis,”
whatever that may mean, to the Conqueror, and he gets Alnwick along
with the daughter of the slain William Tisonne. Alnwick may quite
possibly have passed to a Norman lord by marriage with an English
heiress, but assuredly her father was not called William and did not
bear an hereditary surname, and it is much to his credit if, in the
teeth of his Earl, he found his way to the great battle from a point
so far north as Alnwick.
NOTE DD. Vol. ii. p. 28.
THE BURIAL OF MARGARET.
I do not wish to commit myself to any view as to the authorship of the
writings attributed to Turgot. It is sometimes, as I have more than
once remarked, hard to believe that the passages which are worked into
the text of Fordun, and which are printed at the end of the Surtees
Simeon as Turgot’s writing, can really come from a contemporary
writer. Still, whether Turgot’s or not, they contain fragments of real
information for which, in the great meagreness of our notices of
Scottish matters, we may well be thankful. In this case, it is from
one of these passages that we learn for certain, what we might for
ourselves have been inclined to guess, that Margaret, so deeply
reverenced in England then and in Scotland in later times, was not
popular in Scotland in her own day. Of her death, as we have seen, we
have several accounts, the fullest and most trustworthy being in her
own Life by Turgot. Again, we have several notices, though somewhat
meagre ones, of the national Scottish movement which placed Donald on
the throne. But it is only from one of these other bits of Turgot (if
it be Turgot) that we could find out that the two things had anything
to do with one another, and that the first thing which the national
party did was to attempt to disturb the burial of the holy Queen.
There is nothing of this in the Life, a fact which may possibly mark
the difference between Turgot writing hagiography, though I believe
truthful hagiography, and the same Turgot writing ordinary history. In
the former character, he does not invent or pervert; he simply leaves
out an unpleasant fact which in the other and humbler character he
records.
The account of Margaret’s burial in the Life (Surtees Simeon, p. 254)
stands thus;
“Corpus ipsius honorabiliter, ut reginam decebat, involutum,
ad Sanctæ Trinitatis, quam ipsa construxerat, ecclesiam
deportavimus, ibique, sicut ipsa jusserat, contra altare et
sanctæ crucis (quod ibidem erexerat) venerabile signum,
sepulturæ tradidimus.”
These words cannot come directly from Turgot himself, who was not
there, but from the priest (see p. 27) who told him the story. Again,
Turgot’s readers would most likely understand that by the church of
the Holy Trinity was meant the church of Dunfermline. Otherwise one
might easily read the passage as implying that Margaret was buried in
the same place in which she died, though no name is given for either.
It is from the other account (Fordun, v. 21) that we learn that the
death happened at Edinburgh and the burial at Dunfermline. Here we get
a picture of Donald at the head of the insurgents or patriots, or
whatever we are to call them, entering Edinburgh by one gate, while
the body of Margaret is carried out by the other. The story runs thus;
“Cum adhuc corpus sanctæ reginæ esset in castro [puellarum]
ubi illius felix anima ad Christum quem semper dilexerat
migravit, Donaldus Rufus vel Bane, frater regis, ejus audita
morte, regnum multorum manu vallatus invasit, et prædictum
castrum, ubi regis justos et legales sciebat heredes,
hostiliter obsedit. Sed quia locus ille natura sui in se
valde munitus est, portas solummodo credidit custodiendas,
eo quod introitus aut exitus aliunde non de facili pateat.
Quod intelligentes qui intus erant, docti a Deo, meritis, ut
credimus, sanctæ reginæ, per posticum ex occidentali plaga
sanctum corpus deferebant. Ferunt autem quidam, in toto
itinere illo nebulam subnubilam omnem familiam illam
circumdedisse, et ab omnibus aspectibus hostium miraculose
protexisse, ut nec itinerantibus terra vel mari nihil
obfuit, sed ad optatum prospere locum, ecclesiam scilicet de
Dunfermlyn, ubi nunc in Christo requiescit, sicut ipsa prius
jusserat, pervenientes deportarunt.”
In the story of the mist we may clearly see a natural phænomenon set
down as a miracle (see Robertson, i. 156). But there seems no reason
for doubting the general outline of the story, namely, that Margaret
was unpopular with the party headed by Donald, and that they would
have gladly disturbed her burial. By comparing this story with the
Life we see how easy it is to leave out an important part of a tale
without bringing in anything that contradicts it.
NOTE EE. Vol. ii. p. 31.
EADGYTH-MATILDA.
That the daughter of Malcolm and Margaret who afterwards became the
wife of Henry the First by the well-known name of Matilda was baptized
by the name of Eadgyth, rests wholly on the authority of Orderic, who
mentions it twice. After recording the death of Malcolm (702 A), he
gives an account of his daughters;
“Duas filias, Edith et Mariam, Christianæ, sorori suæ, quæ
Rumesiensis abbatiæ sanctimonialis erat, educandas,
sacrisque litteris imbuendas miserat. Illic diutius inter
monachas enutritæ sunt, et tam litteratoriam artem quam
bonorum observantiam morum edidicerunt, nubilemque ætatem
pertingentes, solatium Dei devotæ virgines præstolatæ sunt.”
And directly after he calls her “Mathildis quæ prius dicta est Edith.”
It is a point on which Orderic was likely to be well informed, as he
is always careful and scrupulous in matters of nomenclature, and often
helps us to double names, as we have seen in the case of Mark
Bohemond. And the name Eadgyth is much more in harmony than Matilda
with the other names of Margaret’s children. Orderic however does not
mention the implied change of name where one might have looked for it,
namely where he records her marriage in 784 A. She is there only
“generosa virgo nomine Mathildis;” but in recording her death (843 B),
he again says “Mathildis regina, quæ in baptismate Edit dicta fuit.”
M. Francisque Michel, in his note on Benoît, iii. 344, refers also to
the Waverley Annals, 1086, for the earlier name; but there is nothing
of the kind there. There is Eadward and Eadgar, but not Eadgyth. Is
one English name held to be as good as another, even when a confusion
of sex is involved?
In Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 56, where he describes the discussions which
went on before the marriage of Henry the First, we get Eadgyth’s own
story. She was brought up by her aunt Christina, of whom we have
already heard (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 695, where I carelessly spoke of
Christina as abbess), in the abbey of Wilton――it should surely be
Romsey. She was not a nun, nor designed to be one, but she was
compelled by her aunt to wear the veil to shelter her from the
violence of the Normans. Whenever her aunt’s back was turned, she tore
it from her head, and trampled upon it, for which the stern nun gave
her niece a good deal of blows and bad language;
“Cum adolescentula essem, et sub amitæ meæ Christianæ, quam
tu [Anselmus sc.] bene nosti, virga paverem, illa servandi
corporis mei causa contra furentem et cujusque pudori ea
tempestate insidiantem Normannorum libidinem nigrum
panniculum capiti meo superponere, et me illum abjicientem
acris verberibus et nimis obscœnis verborum conviciis sæpe
cruciare simul et dehonestare solebat. Quem pannum in ipsius
quidem præsentia gemens ac tremebunda ferebam, sed mox ut me
conspectui ejus subtrahere poteram, arreptum in humum
jacere, pedibus proterere, et ita quo in odio fervebam,
quamvis insipienter, consueveram desævire.”
Then her father comes, sees her with the veil, tears it from her head,
and says that he does not mean her to be a nun, but to be the wife of
Count Alan (“Pater meus cum me, quemadmodum dixi, velatam forte
vidisset, furore succensus, injecta manu velum arripuit, et dissipans
illud, odium Dei imprecatus est ei qui mihi illud imposuit, contestans
se comiti Alano me potius in uxorem quam in contubernium
sanctimonialium prædestinasse”).
Here we are not told how she came under her aunt’s care, nor what
became of her after her father’s death. And there is something odd in
the general reference to the “Normans,” unless it is meant as part of
the outburst of special English feeling in the later months of the
year 1100. Another version, instead of Normans in general, attributes
the danger to a particular Norman whom we should hardly have looked
for. This version is to be found in a most singular story, to which I
have slightly referred in the text (see p. 32) and also in N. C. vol.
v. p. 169, in the Narratio Restaurationis Abbatiæ S. Martini
Tornacensis (D’Achery, ii. 893). The story is brought in at the same
point at which it is brought in by Eadmer, at the time when
Eadgyth――if that is to be her name――is sought in marriage by King
Henry. The writer, Hermann, Abbot of Saint Martin’s, says that he had
heard the story as a young man from Anselm himself. As Eadmer reports
Eadgyth’s own statement, Hermann reports the statement of the
abbess――“abbatissa in cujus monasterio puella illa fuerat nutrita.” If
any trust can be put in the uncertified list of abbesses of Romsey in
the Monasticon, ii. 507, the head of the sisterhood at that time would
seem to have been an English Æthelflæd. The maiden herself also is
without a name, and her brother is confounded with her father. She is
“puella quædam, filia David regis Scotiæ.” The Abbess’s story is that
the Scottish King entrusted his daughter to her care, not to become a
nun, but simply for education (“Rex David pater ejus mihi eam
commendavit, non ut sanctimonialis fieret, sed ut solummodo in
ecclesia nostra propter cautelam cum ceteris puellis nostris coætancis
suis nutriretur et literis erudiretur”). When the girl is about twelve
years old (“cum jam adolevisset,” which is explained afterwards to
mean “duodennis”), the Abbess hears that king William (defined as “rex
Willelmus, domini mei regis Henrici germanus”) has come to see her
(“propter eam videndam venisse”). In the case of any decent king such
a visit would surely have been neither scandalous nor wonderful. The
King is at the abbey-gate with his knights, and asks to have it
opened. The Abbess fears that he may conceive some bad purpose towards
the maiden, but hopes that he will respect her if she wears the
monastic veil. She therefore persuades Eadgyth to wear the veil for
the time;
“Hæc audiens, nimiumque perterrita, ne forte ille, ut
juvenis et rex indomitus, qui omne quod animo sibi
occurrisset illico facere volebat, visa pulcritudine puellæ
aliquam ei illicitam violentiam faceret, qui tam improvisus
et insperatus propter eam videndam advenisset, in secretius
cubiculum eam introduxi, rem ei sicut erat aperui, eaque
volente velum unum capiti ejus imposui, quatenus eo viso rex
ab illicito complexu revocaretur.”
The King goes into the cloister, as if to look at the flowers “quasi
propter inspiciendas rosas et alias florentes herbas”). He sees
Eadgyth with the veil, and goes away, showing, according to the
Abbess, that his visit had been on her account only (“mox ut eam vidit
cum ceteris puellis nostris velum capite gestantem, claustro exivit et
ab ecclesia recessit, aperte ostendens se non nisi propter eam
venisse”). Within a week King David came; seeing his daughter with the
veil on her head, he was very angry; he tore it from her head,
trampled it under-foot, and took his daughter away.
As the Abbot’s memory clearly failed him on one point, it may have
failed him in others. This is, as far as I know, the only time in
history or legend in which William Rufus is brought into connexion
with the name of any woman. It may well be that Abbess Æthelflæd――if
that was her name――did not know the secrets of the Red King’s court,
and reckoned him among ordinary, instead of extraordinary, sinners.
* * * * *
The accounts of Orderic and Hermann assert, and that of Eadmer seems
to imply, that Eadgyth at least, most likely Mary also, was sent to be
brought up by their aunt when they were quite children. But there is
something a little odd in the appearance of Malcolm both in Eadmer and
in Hermann, where he is spoken of as if it were an every-day thing for
a King of Scots to show himself at Romsey. We may here perhaps help
ourselves to a date. The visit of Malcolm must surely have been when
he was in England in 1093. Eadgyth then, according to Hermann, was
about twelve years old. Now, it seems from William of Malmesbury (iv.
389) that she had a godfather whom we should hardly have looked for in
the person of Duke Robert. When could Robert have been godfather to a
daughter of Malcolm and Margaret? Surely when he was in Scotland in
the autumn of 1080 (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 671). That was therefore the
time of Eadgyth’s birth; she would then be under thirteen when her
father came into England. (Since this note was printed, I see that M.
Gaston Le Hardy, p. 41, takes this date for granted.)
The fact that Malcolm and Margaret themselves sent their daughters
into England seems to dispose of the account in Fordun (v. 21; see p.
30), according to which their uncle Eadgar somehow contrived to bring
them to England after the death of their parents. The only way in
which the two versions could be reconciled would be by supposing that,
when Malcolm, according to Hermann, took Eadgyth away from Romsey, he
took her back to Scotland.
In Eadgyth’s own statement in Eadmer, she says that her father meant
her to marry Count Alan. So Orderic (702 A) says;
“Alanus Rufus Britannorum comes Mathildem, quæ prius dicta
est Edith, in conjugem sibi a rege Rufo requisivit; sed
morte præventus non obtinuit.”
Mr. Robertson (i. 152) makes merry over this passage, and takes the
opportunity to sneer at Orderic. How, he asks, could Alan, who
outlived Eadgyth-Matilda and died in 1119――she died in 1118――have been
prevented by his own death from marrying her? He objects also that
Alan married the second time (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 647) in 1093,
“before Matilda could have sought refuge in England.” He adds, “Alan,
however, was once a suitor for the hand of Matilda, but to her own
father Malcolm (according to her own words), not to Rufus,” and goes
on to tell about Orderic’s “gossip,” “infinity of error,” and what
not. But though Orderic has made a slight slip, Mr. Robertson’s own
error is much greater. There can be little doubt that the Alan meant
is not the Alan of Britanny who married first Constance the daughter
of the Conqueror and then Ermengarde of Anjou, but Alan the Black the
second lord of Richmond (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 294, and Mrs. Green,
Princesses, i. 25), a much more likely husband for the Scottish King
to think of for his daughter. Now this Alan died in 1093, just about
the right time. Orderic has put _Rufus_ instead of _Niger_, which is
about the extent of his offence――perhaps confounding Alan the Black
with his brother Alan Fergeant, the first lord of Richmond. But Mr.
Robertson quite forgot that Malcolm sent his daughters into England
long before 1093. Thierry (ii. 152) saw clearly which Alan it was.
William of Malmesbury (v. 418) has a singular passage, where he tells
us that “Matildis, filia regis Scotorum, a teneris annis inter
sanctimoniales apud Wiltoniam et Rumesium educata, literis quoque
fœmineum pectus exercuit. Unde, ut ignobiles nuptias respueret
plusquam semel a patre oblatas, peplum sacratæ professionis index
gestavit.”
But who could look on a marriage with Count Alan as “ignobilis”?
NOTE FF. Vol. ii. pp. 17, 47, 49, 53.
TYNEMOUTH AND BAMBURGH.
The history of Tynemouth, and of Saint Oswine in relation to
Tynemouth, comes largely from the Life of Saint Oswine in the
Miscellanea Biographica published by the Surtees Society. This is the
work of a monk of Saint Alban’s who went to Tynemouth in 1111. There
are also several Saint Alban’s documents printed in the Monasticon,
iii. 312. There is a large history of Tynemouth by Mr. W. S. Gibson,
from which much may be learned, though the valuable facts and
documents have largely to be dug out of a mass of irrelevant matter.
According to the Saint Alban’s writer, Eadwine built a wooden church
at Tynemouth, and there his daughter _Rosella_ took the veil. The name
is strange enough, but we may perhaps see a confused tradition of a
_British_ name, when we read that “locus ubi nunc cœnobium
Tinemuthense est, antiquitus a _Saxonibus_ dicebatur Penbalcrag, i.e.
caput valli in rupe. Nam circa hunc locum finis erat valli Severiani.”
This building must be the same as that which is referred to in the
Life, p. 11; “Delatus est ad ostium Tynæ fluminis, locum videlicet ab
incolis regionis ob imminentis rupis securitatem ab hostibus celebrius
frequentatum. Sed ob reverentiam gloriosæ Virgini Mariæ inibi
exhibitam tenerius amatum, ibique sepultus est in oratorio ejusdem
Virginis, quod constructum erat ad aquilonem fluminis.” He goes on to
tell how Oswald rebuilt the wooden church of stone, and how the
monastery was more than once destroyed by the Danes. The Saint Alban’s
writer (Mon. Angl. iii. 312) speaks more specially of the Danes. The
biographer carries us at once to the time of Tostig;
“Memoria sancti martyris Oswini, obsoleta et penitus deleta,
funditus ab hominum notitia evanuit. Jacuitque per multa
annorum curricula gleba sancti corporis sub abjectiori
cespite tumulata et usque ad tempora Thostii comitis et
Ægelwini præsulis Dunelmi, incuriæ pariter et ignorantiæ
neglectu, debita veneratione est fraudata.”
The writer has a curious remark to account for the neglect of the
saint; “Genti prædictæ nunc fideles, nunc infideles principabantur, et
juxta principum instituta, varia divinus cultus in subjectarum plebium
studiis sensit dispendia.” This is doubtless true of Deira, hardly so
of Bernicia, where no heathen prince reigned, though passing heathens
did a good deal of damage.
He then gives a long account of the invention of the saint’s body,
which came about through the vision of a monk named Eadmund. Judith,
according to the character which she bears elsewhere (see N. C. vol.
ii. p. 391), appears as “devota Deo famula,” “præpotens et devota
femina,” “veneranda comitissa.” Of Tostig we are told that he
succeeded Siward, “non testamenti beneficio, sed sancti regis Ædwardi
dono regio.” He is described as beginning the new church which the
monks of Saint Alban’s afterwards finished (p. 15); “Cujus tamen
fundamenti initia, ut dicitur, comes Thostius jecerat, a fundamentis
ædificaverunt.” But his deposition and death seem to be looked upon as
a judgement for not being present in person at the invention (“Quia
prædixtus comes Thostius interesse sanctæ inventioni in ditione sua
factæ noluit, eodem anno culpis suis exigentibus ab Anglorum regno
expulsus,” &c.), the exact date of which is given, March 15, 1065. It
is added, “Thostio comite proscripto, hæreditas ejus devoluta est ad
fiscum regium.”
Simeon in his History of the Church of Durham, iv. 4, puts the acts of
Tostig and of Waltheof together under the head of Northumbrian earls;
“Ecclesiam sane sancti Oswini in Tinemuthe, jamdudum donantibus
Northymbriæ comitibus, monachi cum adhuc essent in Gyrvum possederant,
unde etiam ipsius sancti ossa ad se transferentes in ecclesia sancti
Pauli secum non parvo tempore habuerunt, quæ postmodum ad priorem
locum retulerunt.” He then goes on to record the confirmation by Earl
Alberic, who “hoc donum renovavit, ipsamque ecclesiam cum suo
presbitero ecclesiæ sancti Cuthberti perpetuo possidendam adjecit.”
It would seem that the fall of Tostig hindered the completion of his
church, and that at the time of Waltheof’s grant it was still without
a roof; for he goes on to say, “Quæ cum jam per quindecim annos velut
deserta sine tecto durasset, eam monachi culmine imposito renovarunt,
et per tres annos possederunt.” On receiving the confirmation of
Alberic, a monk with a good Danish name was sent to put things in
better order (Simeon, Gesta Regum, 1121); “Ex capituli totius
sententia monachus noster _Turchillus_ illuc mittitur, qui renovato
ecclesiæ ipsius culmine, per multum tempus habitavit ibidem.”
I have referred to the charter of Waltheof and to the entry in Simeon
(Gesta Regum, 1080) in N. C. vol. iv. p. 666. It is printed, along
with a charter of Bishop William confirming it, dated April 27, 1085,
in the time of Earl Alberic, whose confirmation is recorded, in the
Surtees book called Historiæ Dunelmensis Scriptores Tres, pp. xviii,
xix. The signatures to both are nearly all English, with the single
exception of two to the charter of Waltheof. These are Gilbert, the
nephew (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 665) of Bishop Walcher, and an unknown
Walter. We meet with several other men that we know, as Morkere’s
father Ligulf and his brother Uhtred, and Leofwine, written
“Leobwinus,” the Dean of Durham. We notice also “Ernan Biscope sune,”
and three Englishmen with the knightly title “Alwinus miles,”
“Wlstanus miles,” and “Kinewlfus miles,” but I do not understand
“signum Aldredi comitis.” Earl Ealdred, the common grandfather of
Waltheof and young Morkere, had been murdered long ago, as the sons of
Carl found to their cost. The story is told again in Simeon, Gesta
Regum, 1121.
The next stage in the story is the taking away of Tynemouth from the
church of Durham. It is amusing to contrast the ways in which this
story is told at Durham and at Saint Alban’s. Simeon, in the chapter
just quoted, tells us that Earl Robert made the gift to Saint Alban’s
“propter inimicitias quæ inter episcopum et ipsum agitabantur” (cf.
Gesta Regum, 1121). The cause of their ill-will, a dispute about
lands, comes out in the next chapter. Roger of Wendover (ii. 39), who
is copied by Matthew Paris (Hist. Ang. i. 41, and Chron. Maj. ii. 31),
tells us how Earl Robert――“vir quidem Deo devotus,” Matthew says――gave
Tynemouth to Saint Alban’s “divina inspiratione tactus.” The Gesta
Abbatum (i. 57) add that it was done “regis et archiepiscopi Lanfranci
benevolentia.” It would seem that under Durham rule Tynemouth had been
simply an impropriate church, while in the hands of Saint Alban’s it
became a cell. The judgement on Abbot Paul is recorded in the Durham
History, iv. 4. The Gesta Abbatum, which record much about him, both
good and evil, say nothing about this. The Life of Oswine, p. 15,
gives a full account of the ceremony of the translation of Saint
Oswine, with the date. Bishop Randolf of Durham was there, Abbot
Richard of Saint Alban’s, and “Abbas _Salesberiensis_ Hugo,” where we
may see (see Mon. Angl. iii. 495) the old confusion (see N. C. vol.
iv. p. 799) between Salisbury and Selby.
Tynemouth then, at the time when the revolt of Robert of Mowbray began
(see p. 47), was already a monastery and a cell to Saint Alban’s,
though the monks of Durham still held that they had been wrongfully
deprived of it. But it appears from the narrative that, besides the
monastery, there was also a castle. The account in the Chronicle is,
“And þone castel æt Tinemuðan besæt oððet he hine gewann, and þæs
eorles broðer þærinne and ealle þa þe him mid wæron.” Florence says,
“Rex exercitu de tota Anglia congregato, castellum prædicti comitis
Rotberti, ad ostium Tinæ fluminis situm, per duos menses obsedit; et
interim, _quadam munitiuncula expugnata_, ferme omnes meliores comitis
milites cepit, et in custodia posuit; dein obsessum castellum
expugnavit, et fratrem comitis, et equites, quos intus inveniebat,
custodiæ tradidit.” Florence seems to me to have confounded the sieges
of Tynemouth and of the New Castle. By the “castellum ad ostium Tinæ”
he would seem to mean the New Castle, and by his “munitiuncula” he
would seem to mean the Earl’s fortress at Tynemouth. Now what was the
relation between the castle and the monastery? As things now stand,
castle and monastery are one. That is to say, the deserted church――or
more strictly the two deserted churches, monastic and parochial, once
under one roof (see Archæological Journal, vol. xxxvii. p. 250, No.
147, 1880)――standing on the northern promontory is now surrounded by
military buildings and the great gate-house. I get my notion of the
early arrangements of Tynemouth from several old plans collected by
Mr. Gibson. There is one which seems to be of the sixteenth century,
and, as the names are written in a curious mixture of English, Latin,
and Italian, it struck me that it might be the work of an officer of
those Italian mercenaries who were employed in the civil wars of
Edward the Sixth. This is the only one which distinctly shows “the
Castle,” on the southern promontory, though all mark that point as
taken in within the lines of defence. It seems to me that the southern
promontory must have been the site of the original castle, and that
the name of _Castle_ has shifted to the great gate-house, which fairly
deserves it.
* * * * *
With regard to the order of the sieges, Orderic, who gives us so full
an account of the siege of Bamburgh, tells us nothing about the
others. I gather from the words of the Chronicle that the New Castle,
which we find in the King’s hands directly after, was the point which
was first taken; “Sona þes þe he þider [to Norðhymbran] com, he manege
and forneah ealle þa betste of þes eorles hirede innan anan fæstene
gewann, and on hæftene gedyde.” Florence, as I have said, seems to
have misunderstood the words of the Chronicler, and to have confounded
Tynemouth and the New Castle. This last would surely be, as the
Chronicle implies, the first point of attack after the army entered
Northumberland in the sense which that word now bears. Next in the
narrative of the Chronicle follows the siege and capture of Tynemouth,
and then the great siege of Bamburgh. Of this famous fortress I found
something to say long ago in N. C. vol. i. p. 410, where Bamburgh
appears as marking one stage in the art of fortification. Bæda (iii.
16) witnesses that the place took its name “ex Bebbæ quondam reginæ
vocabulo;” so also the Northumbrian writer copied by Simeon of Durham,
774;
“Bebba civitas urbs est munitissima, non admodum magna, sed
quasi duorum vel trium agrorum spatium, habens unum
introitum cavatum, et gradibus miro modo exaltatum. Habet in
summitate montis ecclesiam præpulcre factam, in qua est
scrinium speciosum et pretiosum. In quo involuta pallio
jacet dextera manus sancti Oswaldi regis incorrupta, sicut
narrat Beda historiographus hujus gentis.”
The reference here is to Bæda, iii. 6, where he tells the story of
Oswald’s bounty and the prophecy of Aidan, and adds how his hand and
arm, cut off after his death in the battle by Penda, “in urbe regia
quæ a regina quondam vocabulo Bebba cognominatur, loculo inclusæ
argenteo in ecclesia sancti Petri servantur, ac digno a cunctis honore
venerantur.” So again, iii. 12, where Bamburgh is simply “regia
civitas.” He goes on to speak of the well; “Est in occidente et in
summitate ipsius civitatis fons miro cavatus opere, dulcis ad potandum
et purissimus ad videndum.” Florence also refers to the origin of the
name; with him it is “Bebbanbyrig, id est, Urbs Bebbæ reginæ;” and
Orderic (704 A) draws a little picture of the spot; “Munitissimum
castrum, quod Babbenburg dicitur, obsederunt. Et quoniam illa munitio
inexpugnabilis erat, quia inaccessibilis videbatur propter paludes et
aquas, et alia quædam itinerantibus contraria, quibus ambiebatur, rex
novam munitionem ad defensionem provinciæ et coartationem hostium
construxit, et militibus, armis, ac victualibus implevit.” This last
fact, the making of the _Malvoisin_, is recorded by the Chronicler and
Florence, both of whom give the name. The Chronicler says; “Ac þa þa
se cyng geseah þæt he hine gewinnan ne mihte, þa het he makian ænne
castel toforan Bebbaburh and hine _on his spæce_ Malueisin het, þæt is
on Englisc yfel nehhebur, and hine swiðe mid his mannan gesætte, and
syððan suðweard for.” So Florence; “Ante Bebbanbyrig in quam comes
fugerat, castellum firmavit, id que Malveisin nominavit, et in illo
militibus positis, in Suthymbriam rediit.” We may here note the way in
which the Chronicler assumes French as the language of William Rufus,
and also Florence’s somewhat archaic way of speaking of “Suthymbria,”
where the Chronicler says simply “suðweard.” It is something like his
mention of West-Saxonia in 1091 (see vol. i. p. 305).
The _Malvoisin_ was clearly such a tower as we often hear of,
temporary and of wood, but still not moveable, as is implied in
Florence’s word “firmavit.” But the name seems afterwards to have been
transferred to moveable towers; see Du Cange in Malveisin, where he
refers to the passage about the siege of Dover in Roger of Wendover,
iii. 380; “Misso prius ad patrem suum propter petrariam, quæ
‘Malveisine’ Gallice nuncupatur, qua cum machinis aliis Franci ante
castrum locata muros acriter crebris ictibus verberabant.” In his
account of the siege of Bamburgh (ii. 46) Roger says, “Cum castellum
inexpugnabile advertit, ante castellum illud castellum aliud _ligneum_
construxit, quod Malveisin appellavit, in quo partem exercitus sui
relinquens inde recessit.” Matthew Paris copies this in the Chronica
Majora in the Historia Anglorum, i. 48; his words are, “Ante castellum
illud aliud sed _ligneum_ construxit, ad præcludendum illis exitum,
quod patria lingua _Maleveisine_ appellavit.” Viollet-le-Duc (Military
Architecture of the Middle Ages, 24, Eng. trans.) seems to imply that
moveable towers were known earlier than this time, but he seems (p.
30) to bring the petraria from the East.
As for the details of the siege, the Chronicler and Florence tell us
nothing till we come to the escape of Robert from Bamburgh. It is
Orderic who gives us the picture of the state of mind of Robert and
his companions, which, if it belongs to any period of the siege, must
belong to the time before the King went southward. We see the loyal
troops busily working at the making of the _Malvoisin_;
“Conscii autem perfidiæ et fautores eorum detegi verentes
conticuerunt, et metu exsangues, quia conatus suos nihil
valere perpenderunt, regiis cohortibus immixti, ejus
servitium, cujus exitium optaverant, prompte aggressi sunt.
Interea, dum rex in armis cum agminibus suis ad bellum
promptus constaret, et chiliarchos ac centuriones, aliosque
proceres Albionis, cum subditis sibi plebibus, operi novæ
munitionis indesinenter insistere compelleret, Rodbertus de
propugnaculis suis contrarium sibi opus mœstus conspiciebat,
et complices suos alta voce nominatim compellebat, ac ut
jusjurandum de proditionis societate conservarent, palam
commonebat. Rex autem cum fidelibus suis hæc audiens
ridebat, et conscia reatus publicati mens conscios et
participes timore et verecundia torquebat.”
Then the King goes away; in Orderic’s phrase, “rege ad sua prospere
remeante, et de moderamine regni cum suis amicis solerter tractante,”
a rather odd description of the war in Wales. Now comes Robert’s
escape from Bamburgh. Orderic, who seems to have no clear idea of any
place except Bamburgh, merely says that Robert, “longæ obsidionis
tædio nauseatus, noctu exilivit, et de castro in castrum migrare
volens in manus inimicorum incidit.” The Chronicle is fuller; “Ða sona
æfter þam þe se cyng wæs suð afaren feorde se eorl anre nihte ut of
Bebbaburh towardes Tinemuðan, ac þa þe innan þam niwun castele wæron
his gewær wurdon, and him æfter foran and onfuhton and hine
gewundedon, and syððan gelæhton, and þa þe mid him wæron sume ofslogan
sume lifes gefengon.” But it is from Florence that we get the detailed
account. His story runs thus;
“Post cujus discessum, comiti Rotberto vigiles Novi Castelli
promisere in id se permissuros illum intrare, si veniret
occulte. Ille autem lætus effectus, quadam nocte cum xxx.
militibus ut id perageret exivit. Quo cognito, equites qui
castellum custodiebant illum insequentes, ejus exitum
custodibus Novi Castelli per nuntios intimaverunt. Quod ille
nesciens, die dominica tentavit peragere cœpta, sed
nequivit, deprehensus enim erat. Eapropter ad monasterium S.
Oswini regis et martyris fugit, ubi sexto die obsessionis
suæ graviter in crure est vulneratus dum suis adversariis
repugnaret, quorum multi perempti, multi sunt vulnerati, de
suis quoque nonnulli vulnerati, omnes sunt capti; ille vero
in ecclesiam fugit, de qua extractus, in custodia est
positus.”
Here now comes the obvious difficulty as to the way in which the Earl
could have got into the monastery at Tynemouth after the castle had
been taken. The Chronicler indeed does not necessarily imply that he
got into Tynemouth at all. The fight which he describes might have
happened somewhere else and not at Tynemouth. And if any one chooses
to move the site of Robert’s resistance and capture from Tynemouth to
some unknown spot, there is only the statement of Florence against
him. That Robert was taken, and taken after a stout resistance, is
plain.
With Robert’s capture, Orderic ends his story, as far as military
operations are concerned. “Captus a satellitibus regis, Rodbertus
finem belli fecit.” In a very general way this is not untrue; it was
the capture of Robert which brought about the end of the war. But it
is odd that he should have left out the striking story of the captive
Earl being brought under frightful threats before the castle which his
wife was defending. This stands out clearly in the Chronicle; “Ða þa
se cyng ongean com, þa het he niman þone eorl Rotbeard of Norðymbram,
and to Bæbbaburh lædan, and ægðer eage ut adon, buton þa þe þærinne
wæron þone castel agyfan woldan. Hine heoldan his wif and Moreal, se
wæs stiward and eac his mæg. Ðurh þis wearð se cartel þa agyfen.”
Florence translates this.
* * * * *
Lastly comes the great difference of all as to Earl Robert’s last
days. The Chronicler and Florence merely record his imprisonment at
Windsor, without saying how long it lasted. Florence says only, “Comes
forti custodiæ mancipandus ad Windlesoram est ductus,” followed by the
passage about Morel quoted in p. 55. He says nothing about the many
accusations brought by Morel, or about the special summons of all the
tenants-in-chief to the trial, of which the Chronicler speaks (see p.
56). The Chronicler, after recording them, says; “And þone eorl
Rotbert hét se cyng to Windlesoran lædan, and þær innan þam castele
healdan.” This is consistent with any later destiny, with release and
monastic profession or with lifelong imprisonment. This last is
asserted by several authorities. Thus Orderic (704 A) says;
“Rodbertus…. fere triginta annis in vinculis vixit, ibique scelerum
suorum pœnas luens consenuit.” He then sets forth the sad state of his
wife; “Mathildis uxor ejus, quæ cum eo vix unquam læta fuerat, quia in
articulo perturbationis desponsata fuerat, et inter bellicas clades
tribus tantum mensibus cum tremore viri thoro incubuerat, maritali
consolatione cito caruit, multisque mœroribus afflicta diu gemuit.”
The Continuator of William of Jumièges (viii. 8), who has nothing to
say about Matilda, equally bears witness to Robert’s lifelong
imprisonment; “Captus a militibus Willelmi regis, ipsoque jubente in
ipsis vinculis diutius perseverans; regnante jam Henrico rege, tandem
in ipso ergastulo deficiens mortuus est.” So William of Malmesbury,
iv. 319; “Captus et æternis vinculis irretitus est.”
On the other hand, there clearly was a story according to which Robert
was released some time or other, and died a monk at Saint Alban’s. It
is somewhat remarkable that there is no mention of this in any of the
chief writings of Matthew Paris, neither in the Historia Major nor the
Historia Anglorum, nor the Lives of the Abbots. But we find the story
implied in the extract from his Additamenta in the Monasticon, iii.
312; “Ibidem [at Tynemouth] monachos congregavit de domo sancti
Albani, tanquam ab electissima domo inter omnia cœnobia Angliæ, ubi
etiam se vovit monasticum habitum suscepturum, et sepulturam in loco
memorato. Quæ omnia, Deo sibi propitio, feliciter consummavit.” So in
the Abbreviatio Chronicorum (Hist. Angl. iii. 175), a marginal note is
added to the name of Earl Robert; “Sepultus est apud sanctum Albanum.”
But, oddly enough, the most distinct statement that he became a monk
comes, not from any Saint Alban’s writer, but from one manuscript of
the “De Regibus Saxonum Libellus” at the end of the Surtees Simeon, p.
214. King Henry keeps Robert of Mowbray some while in prison; then
“rogatu baronum suorum eundem resolvens, concessit illi mutare vitam
habitumque sæcularem. Qui ingressus monasterium Sancti Albani sub
professione monastica ibidem vitam finivit.”
The story about Matilda’s second marriage and divorce comes from
Orderic. His story runs thus; “Vir ejus, ut dictum est, in carcere
vivebat, nec ipsa, eo vivente, secundum legem Dei alteri nubere
legitime valebat. Tandem, permissu Paschalis papæ, cui res a curiosis
enucleata patuit, post multos dies Nigellus de Albineio ipsam uxorem
accepit, et pro favore nobilium parentum ejus, aliquamdiu honorifice
tenuit. Verum, defuncto Gisleberto de Aquila fratre ejus, vafer
occasionem divortii exquisivit, eamque, quia consanguinei sui conjux
fuerat, repudiavit, et Gundream, sororem Hugonis de Gornaco, uxorem
duxit.” If all this happened at all, it must have happened between
1099 and 1118, the years which mark the reign of Paschal.
Matilda of Laigle could not well have been the sister of William the
Chaplain to whom Bishop Herbert Losinga writes his third letter (Ep.
Herberti, p. 5). He there says; “De matrimonio sororis vestræ non
aliud respondeo vobis, quam id quod præsens ex ore meo audivistis, suo
videlicet ut vivente viro, secundum evangelium et secundum sanctorum
canonum usum, alii viro nubere non potest.” But the person spoken of
could hardly have been thinking of such a marriage, unless she had
some special excuse, like this of Matilda.
The second wife of Nigel appears both as “Gundrea” and as “Gundreda.”
There is a great deal about her husband Nigel and her son Robert, the
founder of Byland Abbey, in the Monasticon, v. 346-351. The marriage
of Nigel and Gundreda took place after Tinchebrai, and as King Henry
gave Nigel the castle of Mowbray, and much else in Normandy and
England which had belonged to Earl Robert, their son Roger called
himself Roger of Mowbray. Such a description was likely to lead to
confusion, and it may have led some to fancy that later bearers of the
name of Mowbray had something to do with the famous Bishop and Earl of
our story. The artificial Percy is indeed connected with the real one
by grandmothers; but the artificial Mowbray was purely artificial.
This Roger of Mowbray appears also in the Continuator of William of
Jumièges, viii. 8, who tells us that Nigel himself became a monk at
Bec.
* * * * *
As Walknol has been casually mentioned in the text (p. 47) there may
be some interest in a document in the Cartulary of Newminster
published by the Surtees Society, p. 178. The date must be after 1137,
the date of the foundation of Newminster. The number of English names,
and specially the two bearers of scriptural names who are sons of
English-named fathers, illustrate points of which I have often had to
speak;
“De terra de Walknol in castro. Johannes filius Edwyni
fabri, salutem. Sciatis me concessisse, dedisse, et hac
præsenti carta mea confirmasse, Bartholomæo filio Edricii
illam terram totam quæ jacet in australi parte cimiterii
capellæ beati Michaelis, in longitudine a curtillo Eadmundi
clerici usque ad terram quæ fuit Johannis Stanhard, et in
latitudine a cimiterio capellæ beati Michaelis usque ad
antiquam communem viam subtus versus austrum. Habendum et
tenendum eidem Bartholomæo et hæredibus suis de me et
hæredibus meis et assignatis in perpetuum, libere, quiete,
et pacifice, pro duabus marcis arg. quas michi dedit idem
Bartholomæus in manu in mea magna necessitate.”
NOTE GG. Vol. ii. p. 79.
THE CONQUEST OF GLAMORGAN.
I gave a note to the conquest of Glamorgan in the Appendix to vol. v.
of the Norman Conquest, p. 820. I look, as I did then, upon the
account in what I find it convenient to call the later Brut as
thoroughly legendary in its details, though I am perhaps inclined to
put rather more faith in the general story than I was then. And I am
not so much inclined as I was then to draw the same wide distinction
as Mr. Floyd draws between the expeditions led by the King himself and
those which partook more or less of the character of private
adventure. There was doubtless a difference, when it was King William
who called the whole force of England to his standard, and when it was
only either Earl Hugh or Robert Fitz-hamon who set out on an
expedition on his own account. But both processes were parts of the
same general undertaking. Whatever individual lords conquered, they
conquered with the King’s approval, to be held by them as his vassals
and subjects. He himself stepped in only on great occasions, when the
Welsh seemed to be getting too strong for the local lords. The same
general work must have been going on all over the country. The only
strange thing is that the conquest of Glamorgan, of whose general
results there can be no doubt, and of which we have so very full a
legendary account, is left out altogether in every really trustworthy
history.
Jestin ap Gwrgan must be accepted as a real man, on the strength of
his real sons and grandsons (for his sons see N. C. vol. v. p. 821);
but that is all that can be said of him. We can hardly carry our faith
so far as Mr. John Williams ab Ithel, the Editor of the Brut in the
Chronicles and Memorials, who asks us (xxiii) to “consider the great
age of the prince of Glamorgan when he died. He is said to have
married his first wife A.D. 994”――it is perhaps prudent to mention the
æra――“and to have died at the age of 111, according to others 129.” We
Saxons do not venture to believe in the kindred tales of our own
Harold and Gyrth. But we learn from Mr. Williams himself, at the very
beginning of his Preface, that “the voice of Tradition would not lead
us to suppose that the ancient Britons paid any very particular
attention to the study of chronology previous to the era of Prydain,
son of Aedd the Great, which is variously dated from the year 1780 to
480 before the nativity of Christ.” If centuries went for so little in
the days of Prydain, it is not wonderful that decades did not go for
much in the days of Jestin. Nor are we surprised to find that Mr.
Williams knew the exact number of the descendants of Jestin, who were,
like those of Attila, “pene populus.” All that we can say of Jestin’s
story, in relation to Robert Fitz-hamon and his companions, is that
there is no trustworthy evidence either for or against the story of
his invitation to the Norman knights, but that the tale has a
legendary sound, and that the date is in any case wrong. If we should
be inclined, according to one or two indications (see p. 84), to place
the conquest of Glamorgan several years earlier, perhaps even before
the death of the Conqueror, we are only carried away yet further from
the perfectly certain date of the death of Rhys ap Tewdwr. All that we
can say is that the general story may be true, but that the list of
settlers given in the later Brut (72 to 75) is largely due to family
vanity. The Stradling family, for instance, had nothing to do with the
original conquest.
The best account of the whole matter is to be found in Mr. Clark’s
first paper on “The Land of Morgan,” in the Archæological Journal,
xxxiv. 11. I cannot however admit with him (p. 18) that “it seems
probable that to the early Vikings, and not to the later settlements
of Flemings or English, is due the Teutonic element which prevails in
the topography of lower Pembroke and Gower.” I am quite ready (see p.
95) to admit a certain Scandinavian element; but the Flemish
settlement in Pembrokeshire is undoubtedly historical (see N. C. vol.
v. p. 855), while we have fair legendary evidence for making the
settlement in Gower West-Saxon (see p. 103). The name of _Worm’s Head_
given to the great promontory of Gower, in marked distinction to the
Scandinavian _Orm’s Head_ in North Wales, goes a long way to show that
the Teutonic settlers in Gower were either Flemish or Saxon, and not
Scandinavian.
NOTE HH. Vol. ii. p. 115.
GODWINE OF WINCHESTER AND HIS SON ROBERT.
I gave a short note to the history of Robert son of Godwine in N. C.
vol. v. p. 819. On going again more minutely through the story, I am
even more struck than before by the singular way in which different
notices of Robert and Godwine hang together. It is one of the best
cases that I know of the argument from undesigned coincidences.
Besides the interest of the story in itself, it teaches us, like many
other stories, how, if we work with a proper caution, we may dig truth
out of quarters where we should hardly have looked for it, and it may
specially suggest matter for thought as to the value of those pieces
of Scottish history which one hardly knows whether to call the
writings of Turgot or Fordun, or of any one else. I suspect that, if
we simply read the story of Godwine and Robert as it stands in Fordun,
we should be inclined to cast it aside altogether. The story
undoubtedly has a legendary air, and the details of the single combat
are likely enough to have received some legendary colouring even at
the time. Some might even be a little startled at the appearance of
Englishmen of knightly rank at the court of William Rufus. But we see
from Domesday on the one hand, and from William of Malmesbury on the
other, that Godwine and Robert were real men, and we see that the part
which they play in Fordun’s story is exactly in accordance with their
real position.
I have mentioned elsewhere (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 571; vol. v. p. 819)
that there was a Godwine holding lands in Hertfordshire of the
Ætheling Eadgar. We also have in two places in William of Malmesbury
(iii. 251; iv. 384) notices of “Robertus Anglus,” “Robertus filius
Godwini miles audacissimus,” who goes to the crusade with the
Ætheling, and who does the exploits which I have spoken of in p. 122.
Now if circumstantial evidence is ever good for anything, one can
hardly doubt that the Godwine of Domesday is the same as the Godwine
of William of Malmesbury and as the Godwine of Fordun, and that the
Robert son of Godwine in Fordun is the same as the Robert son of
Godwine in William of Malmesbury. The three accounts are wholly
independent, but all bring Godwine and Robert into connexion with
Eadgar. It is almost inconceivable that Fordun’s story should be mere
invention, when it makes men of whom so little is known act exactly in
character with the little that is known of them.
In the account in Fordun (ii. 22, Surtees Simeon 263), Ordgar,
“Orgarus,” is described in the one text as “miles degener Anglicus,”
in the other as “miles de genere Anglico,” which is clearly the better
reading.
The name of Ordgar appears only twice in Domesday. In Oxfordshire,
161, Ordgar, a king’s thegn, holds two hides of the worth of forty
shillings. He had two slaves on his domain, and half a carucate was
held by two villains or churls. We then read, “Godwinus libere
tenuit.” This is pretty sure to be our Ordgar, and it may very well be
our Godwine, though we can say nothing for certain about so common a
name. If they are the same, here is great likelihood, though no proof,
that Godwine may have had other ground for willingness to fight
Ordgar, besides his loyalty to the Ætheling. Ordgar, on the other
hand, appears in Somerset, 93, as holding a hide which had passed to
Robert of Courcelles, and which, with a good deal more, was held by
Anschitil. Ordgar was not the only Englishman who, among the endless
forfeitures and grants――to say nothing of ordinary sales, bequests,
and exchanges, which went on T. R. W. as well as T. R. E.――lost in one
part of England and gained in another.
In Fordun’s story Eadgar is described as “clito Eadgarus, viz. genere
gloriosus, nam sic ipsum nominabant.” “De genere gloriosus,” it will
be marked, is a more literal translation of “Clito” than it is of
“Ætheling.” William is inclined to hearken to Ordgar, “quia Eadgarus
de regia stirpe fuerat progenitus, et regno, jure Anglico, proximus.”
We then read, “nec incerta de Eadgaro jam poterat esse sententia, si
crimen impositum probari potuisset.” Eadgar is in great trouble for
fear of not finding a champion, when Godwine steps forward; “Miles de
Wintonia, Anglicus natione, genere non ignobilis, nomine Godwinus,
veteris parentelæ ipsius non immemor, opem se præstiturum in hac re
tam difficili compromisit.”
The two knights now go forth, as I have described in the text, and we
have a significant comment on the lack of English patriotism shown by
Ordgar;
“Hinc etiam calumniatorem cum justa animadversione increpat,
qui Anglicus genere existens naturæ videretur impugnator,
quem enim ut dominum venerari debuerat, utpote de jure
generis existens cui se et omnia sua debuisset.”
Then come the details of the combat. We hear no more of Godwine after
his victory and reward, which last is thus told; “Superati hostis
terras et possessiones hereditario jure rex ei concederet
possidendas.” “Hereditario jure” most likely simply means, as usual,
that the land was to go on to Godwine’s heirs. It need not refer to
the probable fact that part at least of Ordgar’s lands had once
belonged to Godwine.
Robert first appears in Fordun, v. 25, on the march to Scotland (see
p. 119). He is introduced as “quidam miles, Anglicus genere, Robertus
nomine, filius antedicti Godwini, paternæ probitatis imitator et
hæres.” Then come his exploits and adventures in Britain, as I have
told them in the text. Afterwards must come his crusading exploits as
described by William of Malmesbury. In the earlier of his two accounts
(see p. 122) one might almost have thought that King Baldwin had no
companion except Robert. The second passage, which gives them four
other companions, has therefore the force of a correction; “Rex …
quinque militibus comitatus, in montana rependo, insidiantes elusit.
Militum fuit unus Robertus Anglus, ut superius dixi; cæteros notitiæ
nostræ fama tam longinqua occubuit. Ille cum tribus comprehensus est;
unus evasit cum rege.” Another point which is worth notice is that the
period of the crusade at which Robert is brought in exactly agrees
with the story of his doings in Scotland and Northumberland. A man who
had difficulties with Flambard after he became bishop in 1099 could
not have been with the first crusaders at Antioch and Jerusalem; he
might have been quite in time to help Baldwin at Rama.
* * * * *
It would be worth the while of some Hertfordshire antiquary to see
whether anything can be made out as to the descent of the lands held
by Godwine, or as to any descendants of him and Robert. But I saw a
little time back a newly published history of that county, which was
eloquent about the grandmothers of various obscure persons of our own
time, but which had not a word to say about the champion of Eadgar or
the comrade of Baldwin.
NOTE II. Vol. ii. p. 133.
THE EXPEDITION OF MAGNUS.
The expedition of Magnus, which, by leading him to the shores of
Anglesey, had a not unimportant bearing on English affairs, is not
spoken of at any great length by our own writers. The Chronicler does
not name the Norwegian king; but he does not fail to mention the death
of Earl Hugh of Shrewsbury, and, what was practically its most
important result, the succession of his brother Robert. His words are;
“And Hugo eorl wearð ofslagen innan Anglesege fram ut wikingan and his
broðer Rodbert wearð his yrfenuma, swa swa he hit æt þam cynge
ofeode.” Florence is fuller;
“Eo tempore rex Norreganorum Magnus, filius regis Olavi,
filii regis Haroldi Harvagri, Orcadas et Mevanias insulas
cum suo adjecisset imperio, paucis navibus advectus illuc
venit. At cum ad terram rates appellere vellet comes Hugo de
Scrobbesbyria, multis armatis militibus in ipsa maris ripa
illi occurrit, et, ut fertur, mox ab ipso rege sagitta
percussus … interiit.”
Florence, it will be seen, here makes the same confusion between the
names _Hardrada_ and _Harfagra_ which he made in 1066, and which so
many others made beside him. To the account in William of Malmesbury,
iv. 329, I have referred in p. 134. He alone it is who mentions the
presence of the younger Harold in the fleet of Magnus. His words,
which I quoted in p. 124, seem to come from the same source as the
account in Florence; but he gives the story a different turn by
distinctly making Magnus design an attack on England;
“Jam Angliam per Anglesiam obstinatus petebat; sed
occurrerunt ei comites, Hugo Cestrensis et Hugo
Scrobesbiriensis; et antequam continentem ingrederetur,
armis eum expulerunt. Cecidit ibi Hugo Scrobesbiriensis,
eminus ferreo hastili perfossus.”
Henry of Huntingdon would seem to translate the Chronicle; but he
makes a confusion as to the persons by whom Earl Hugh was slain; “Hugo
consul Salopscyre occisus est ab Hibernensibus. Cui successit Robertus
de Belem frater ejus.”
If we could suppose that the Archdeacon of Huntingdon had paid so much
attention to British affairs, we might fancy that he confounded the
fleet of Magnus with the wikings from Ireland whom Cadwgan and
Gruffydd hired a little time before. See p. 128.
The Welsh writers naturally tell the tale as part of their own
history. The Earls have come into Anglesey; then comes Magnus. There
are two different accounts in two manuscripts of the Annales Cambriæ;
that which the editor follows in the text runs thus;
“Francis in insula morantibus, Magnus rex Germaniæ cum
exercitu venit in insulam volens. Sed ei nolenti Franci ei
occurrentes se invicem sagittis salutaverunt, hi de terra,
illi de mari, alter comes sagitta in facie percussus
occubuit. Quo facto, Magnus abivit.”
The other manuscript reads;
“Francis in insula morantibus, Magnus rex Germaniæ ad
insulam Mon venit et prœlium cum consulibus commisit; sed
alter consulum vulneratus in facie cecidit; alter vero cum
majoribus insulam dereliquit. Postea vero Magnus rex insulam
Mon repente reliquit.”
The Brut says;
“The French entered the island, and killed some of the men
of the island. And whilst they tarried there, Magnus, King
of Germany, came, accompanied by some of his ships, as far
as Mona, hoping to be enabled to take possession of the
countries of the Britons. And when King Magnus had heard of
the frequent designs of the French to devastate the whole
country, and to reduce it to nothing, he hastened to attack
them. And as they were mutually shooting, the one party from
the sea, and the other party from the land, Earl Hugh was
wounded in the face, by the hand of the King himself. And
then King Magnus, with sudden determination, left the
borders of the country.”
It will be seen that both versions of the Annals call Magnus “rex
Germaniæ.” In the text of the Brut he is “Magnus brenhin Germania.”
Another manuscript, worse informed as to his name, better informed as
to his kingdom, calls him “Maurus brenhin Norwei.” This odd
description of a Norwegian king as king of Germany has been met with
before in the Brut, 1056; but it is not found in the Annals for that
year. But it must have been by a kindred flight that the annalist in
1066 called Harold Hardrada “rex Gothorum.”
* * * * *
Our fuller accounts of the course of Magnus come from Orderic, from
the Manx Chronicle, and from the Saga of Magnus Barefoot (Johnstone,
231; Laing, iii. 129). Orderic, as we have seen, looks upon the
expedition as being directly designed against Ireland. The Norwegian
writer mentions Ireland only quite incidentally. Magnus plunders in
Ireland, as everywhere else, on his way to Man, but the object of the
expedition is clearly marked as being Man and the other islands which
were so closely connected with it, a connexion which is also most
strongly set forth in the pompous words of Orderic (767 D). We can
have little doubt in accepting the Manx writer’s version of the
history of his own island, rather than that of the Norwegian writer,
to whom the internal affairs of the island were of no great interest,
or the wild statement of Orderic (see p. 141) that Man was at this
moment a desert island. On the other hand, the Saga is the best
authority for the actual voyage of Magnus, though it is the Manx
writer who preserves the fact or legend of the irreverent dealings of
Magnus towards his sainted kinsman. As to what happened in Anglesey, I
have already quoted the accounts of the English and Welsh writers, and
the Manx chronicler does not go into any greater detail;
“Ad Moiniam insulam Walliæ navigavit, et duos Hugones
comites invenit in ea; unum occidit, alterum fugavit, et
insulam sibi subjugavit. Wallenses vero multa munera ei
præbuerunt, et valedicens eis ad Manniam remeavit.”
The detailed accounts of the death of Earl Hugh come from the Saga and
from Orderic. Orderic, it must be remembered, is writing on a subject
of special interest to him, on account of his close connexion from
childhood with the house of Montgomery. On the other hand, as we have
seen (see p. 143), he does not well understand the geography, and
seems to fancy that Dwyganwy was in Anglesey. But it will be at once
seen that he conceives the death of Earl Hugh in a quite different way
from the author of the Saga. In Orderic’s story, though there is a
great deal of preparation for fighting, there is no actual fighting at
all, except the one shot sent from the bow of the Norwegian King. His
version stands thus;
“Quadam vero die, dum supra littus indigenæ turbati
discurrerent, seque contra Nordicos, quos in navibus suis
sævire contra Anglos videbant, præpararent, Hugo comes,
equum calcaribus urgens, cœtus suos congregabat, et contra
hostes, ne sparsim divisi invaderentur, principali rigore
coercebat. Interea barbarus Nordwigena, ut comitem agiliter
equitantem prospexit, instigante diabolo stridulum missile
subito direxit, egregiumque comitem, proh dolor! percussit.
Qui protinus corruit, et in fluctibus maris jam æstuantis
exspiravit. Unde dolor ingens exortus est.”
This really seems hardly possible, and the Welsh account, as well as
the Norwegian, distinctly records fighting and shooting of arrows on
both sides. The Saga gives us the details, both in prose and verse.
The shooting of the King and the other archer is described in prose as
I have told it in p. 144, and both the death of Earl Hugh and the
general picture of the battle are given in vigorous verse from the
minstrelsy of Biorn Cripplehand (Biörn inn Krepphendi). Besides the
verses which Laing translates, the Saga gives others from another
poet, Gisl, who vigorously describes the fight between the King and
those whom he calls the _Welsh_ Earls (Valsea Jarla), meaning
doubtless rather Gal-Welsh than Bret-Welsh;
“Margan hŏfdo
Magnuss lidar
Biortom oddi
Baugvang skotit.
Vard hortoga
Hlif at springa
Kapps vel skiput
Fyrer konongs darri.
Bodkenner skaut
Badom hŏndum
Allr va hilmis
Herr prudliga
Stucku af almi
Þeims iŏfr sueigdi
Hvitmylingar
Adr Hugi felli.”
The relations between Magnus and the Irish King Murtagh are very
puzzling. Orderic must have made some mistake when he attributes the
expedition of Magnus to a dispute with an Irish king whose daughter he
marries and sends back again (767 C, D). This must surely be a
confusion between Magnus himself and his son Sigurd, who, according to
the Saga, did marry the Irish king’s daughter. But it is possible that
Orderic’s story about the Irish princess being sent back again,
because her father did not fulfil the marriage contract, may be true
of Sigurd, though not of his father. We should thus better understand
the transactions which go on a little later about the marriage of a
daughter of Murtagh, seemingly the same, to Arnulf son of Earl Roger
(see p. 442). The Manx writer has nothing to say about these
marriages, but he fills up the space between this expedition of Magnus
and that in which he fell with some very strange dealings between
Magnus and Murtagh. Magnus sends his shoes to the Irish king, bidding
him bear them on his shoulders in public as a sign of subjection to
their owner (“Murecardo regi Yberniæ misit calceamenta sua, præcipiens
ei ut ea super humeros suos in die natalis Domini per medium domus suæ
portaret in conspectu nunciorum ejus, quatinus intelligeret se
subjectum esse Magno regi”). The Irish are naturally angry; but their
king takes matters more quietly. He would willingly not only carry the
shoes but eat them, sooner than a single province of Ireland should be
laid waste. So he did as he was bid (“rex, saniori consilio usus, non
solum, inquit, calceamenta ejus portare, verum etiam manducare mallem,
quam Magnus rex unam provinciam in Ybernia destrueret. Itaque
complevit præceptum et nuncios honoravit”). The Irish writers of
course know nothing about the shoes; but the Chronicon Scotorum
records a year’s peace made in 1098 between Murtagh and Magnus
(“Magnus ri Lochlainne”). The Manx chronicler also goes on to say that
a treaty followed the ceremony of the shoes, but that the ambassadors
of Magnus gave such a report of the charms of Ireland, that he
determined to invade it again in breach of the treaty.
This brings us to the date of the last expedition of Magnus. The
Chronicon Scotorum records the death of Magnus (“Magnus ri Lochlainne
ocus na Ninnsit”) in 1099 in an attack on Ulster. But this date must
be too early. The Norwegian account places the second expedition of
Magnus nine years after his accession in Norway (Laing, iii. 143,
Johnstone, 239). This would fix its date to 1102. This is the date
commonly given, with 1103, as the year of his death. The Manx writer
places the death of Magnus six years after his first expedition
(“regnavit in regno insularum sex annis,” p. 7), which would put his
death in 1104. But he gives 1102 as the date of his successor in the
island kingdom, Olaf the son of Godred Crouan (see p. 137). He was, it
seems, at the English court; “Quo [Magno] mortuo, miserunt principes
insularum propter Olavum filium Godredi Crouan, de quo superius
mentionem fecimus, qui tunc temporis degebat in curia Henrici regis
Angliæ filii Willelmi, et adduxerunt eum.”
The date of 1102 exactly falls in with the account of the attempt of
Robert of Bellême to obtain help from Magnus in that year (see p.
442). For this I have followed the account in the Brut (1100; that is
1102). But it would seem that the Welsh writer was mistaken in saying
that Magnus “sent over to Ireland, and demanded the daughter of
Murchath for his son; for that person was the chiefest of the
Gwyddelians; which he joyfully obtained; and he set up that son to be
king in the Isle of Man.” His death is recorded in the next year, 1101
(1103), when “Magnus King of Germany” (“Vagnus vrenhin Germania”) is
made to invade Britain and be killed by the Britons, who are said to
have come “from the mouths of the caves in multitudes like ants in
pursuit of their spoils.” Another manuscript for “Prydein” reads
“Llẏchljẏn,” that is Denmark, which does not make matters much better.
The followers of Magnus are called in the one manuscript “Albanians”
(“yr Albanóyr”), meaning doubtless Scots; in the other manuscript they
are men of Denmark (“gwyr Denmarc”). The Annales Cambriæ do not
mention the dealings between Robert of Bellême and Magnus; but there
is an entry under 1103; “Magnus rex apud Dulin [Dublin?] occiditur.”
The death of Magnus in his second Irish expedition is told with great
detail in the Saga (Johnstone, 239-244; Laing, iii. 143-147). Orderic
also tells the story in p. 812. The Irish, according to this account,
call in Arnulf of Montgomery to their help; but, when Magnus is
killed, the Irish try to kill Arnulf and his Norman companions.
Murtagh now takes away his daughter from Arnulf, and marries her,
according to the irregular fashion of the country, to a kinsman
(“ipsam petulantem cuidam consobrino suo illicite conjunxit”). But
twenty years later, Arnulf, by that time an old man, is reconciled to
Murtagh, marries his daughter, and dies the next day. This carries us
beyond the range of my story, and I must leave Irish, Norwegian, and
Norman enquirers to see to it. It concerns me more that it is now that
Orderic mentions the great treasure which Magnus had left with a rich
citizen of Lincoln. (See p. 134.) The Lincoln man seems to have
thought that the death of the Norwegian king gave his banker a right
to his money; but King Henry thought otherwise, and took the twenty
thousand pounds to his own hoard.
NOTE KK. Vol. ii. pp. 196, 199, 211.
THE RELATIONS BETWEEN HILDEBERT AND HELIAS.
There is a remarkable difference of tone between Orderic and the
Biographer of the Bishops of Le Mans in their way of speaking of
Helias. That the Count should be blamed for making Bishop Howel a
prisoner (see p. 198) is in no way wonderful; the thing to be noticed
is the way in which he several times speaks of Helias during the
episcopate of Hildebert; still more remarkable is the way in which
Hildebert speaks himself. Orderic always puts the acts of Helias in
the best light; the Biographer, during certain parts of his story at
least, seems well-pleased to throw in any little insinuation against
him. Perhaps the strangest case of all is the way in which he leaves
out all mention of the double appointment to the see of Le Mans on the
death of Howel (see p. 211), and of the action of Helias in that
matter. One would have thought that, even from an ecclesiastical point
of view, the story told more for Helias than against him. He put forth
a claim which any other prince of his time would have equally put
forward; he withdrew it in a way in which very few princes of his time
would have withdrawn it. But the Biographer (see p. 297) lets us into
the fact that there had been an opposition to Hildebert’s election in
the Chapter itself. Could his enemies have been special partisans of
Helias, and supporters of his candidate? If so, it is rather strange,
though quite possible, that they should have been the accusers of
Hildebert to Rufus, when the charge brought against him was that of
being a confederate with Helias.
The Biographer is quite loyal to Helias during the campaign of 1098.
He brings out prominently (see p. 213, note) the cause of the war,
namely the election of Hildebert by the Chapter and his acceptance by
the Count, without any regard to the alleged claims of the Norman
Dukes. Helias was in fact fighting on behalf of Hildebert. When Helias
is taken prisoner, he raises a wail――“proh dolor” (see above, p.
223)――which almost reminds us of Florence’s wail over the death-wound
of Harold. He brings out strongly the Red King’s wrath against
Hildebert, as shown in his ravages at Coulaines (see p. 234). He
brings out also, what Orderic does not mention, the friendly relations
between Hildebert and Helias which are shown in the negotiations which
led to the Count’s release (see p. 238). We may perhaps infer that,
during this stage, the friendship between the Count and the Bishop
remained unbroken, and that the Biographer remains the Count’s friend
so long as the Bishop does.
During the campaign of 1099 the Biographer’s tone becomes quite
different. He has not a word to say about the zeal of the citizens of
Le Mans on behalf of Helias, which comes out so strongly in Orderic,
and after him in Wace (see p. 279). He rather implies that they fought
against him. The enemies who meet him at Pontlieue are “milites regis
_cum populo_” (see p. 278, note 2). It is quite possible that, as the
Normans had military possession of the city, its levies may have been
made, even against their will, to take their place in the Norman
ranks, and the presence of such unwilling allies may have very likely
helped to bring about the Norman defeat. Still the insertion of the
words without any comment or qualification gives the Biographer’s
story a different turn from that of Orderic. Yet the Biographer
himself after all allows that Helias entered Le Mans with the
good-will of the citizens, when he allows (see p. 297) the accusers of
Hildebert to say “quando Helias comes _consentientibus civibus_
civitatem occupavit.” He next leaves out the fact recorded by Orderic
(see p. 297) that, before William Rufus had crossed the frontier,
Hildebert met him and was received to his peace, on affirming that he
had no share in the enterprise of Helias. There is nothing wonderful
in this. It is a case which often happens. The original cause of a war
is forgotten, and the fault of the original enemy is forgiven, when a
new enemy has given fresh offence. William was so wroth at Helias for
seizing Le Mans, that he forgot any quarrels of earlier date. If
Hildebert was clear on that score, William could pass by all that had
gone before. He was therefore at this moment ready to forgive
Hildebert in his wrath against Helias. But the old enemies of
Hildebert in the Chapter were ready, for the sake of the old grudge,
to turn against Helias. The chances are that Hildebert had nothing to
do with the return of Helias, but that the towers of the cathedral
were turned by Helias to military uses. Hildebert most likely
deemed――and, as events proved, more wisely than either the Count or
the citizens――that the enterprise of Helias was rash, and therefore
unjustifiable. This would turn him, at least for the time, into an
enemy of Helias, if not into a partisan of Rufus. The Biographer takes
up this tone. It may be with a little feeling of spite that he records
(see p. 281) the way in which the loyalty of the citizens towards the
Count not unnaturally cooled after the fire. There is certainly such a
feeling in the passage (see p. 287) where he speaks of Helias as
flying, “saluti suæ consulens,” while Orderic rather describes him as
swept away in a general flight. But this tone lasts only through the
year 1099. When Helias comes back in 1100, all seems to be made up
again; we now hear (Vet. An. 309, 311) of the “liberalitas” of the
“liberalis comes;” the Normans are “hostes” and Helias brings back
peace. That is to say, as the story shows, the Count and the Bishop
were again reconciled, and the Biographer follows the lead of the
Bishop.
But we need not wonder at the tone of the Biographer, if we know the
tone of the Bishop himself. In a letter printed in Duchèsne’s French
collection, iv. 247, Hildebert speaks of a space of three years,
“peractum triennium,” within which time Le Mans has had six counts,
all of them enemies to peace (“tam modico tempore sex in urbe
sustinuimus consules, quorum nullus pacificum prætendens ingressum,
gladiis et igne curtam sibi vendicavit potestatem.” It is certainly
very hard to reckon up six counts in three years, seemingly the years
1096-1099. In twelve years (1087-1099) not more than five
counts――William the Great, Robert, Hugh, Helias, William Rufus――can be
made out, unless Helias, with his two reigns, is reckoned twice over.
Hildebert then goes on;
“Plebe coacta in favorem, tyrannum suscepit ex necessitate,
non ducem ex lege: in susceptum studia simulavit, non
exhibuit. Fidem reperit in ea, quia superior. Consul vero
tanto gravius dominatus est quanto brevius. Miles ejus
simulatis usus injuriis, eos scelerum judicavit expertes
quos rerum. Et quia non parcit populis regnum breve, finem
rapinis inopia posuit, non voluntas.”
This certainly reads most like a description of the reign of Hugh; but
in what follows we surely see the events of 1098 and 1099;
“Ea clades usque ad sanctuarium Domini pervagata est, et
primo _quidquid extra muros nostræ fuerat potestatis_, vel
evanuit in favillas vel dissipatum est in rapinam. Deinde
similibus cecidere præjudiciis episcopales domus et ecclesiæ
non paucæ. In reliquis quibus ignis pepercit æque
periclitata est et facultas pauperum et reverentia
sacerdotum. Omnia confracta sunt, omnia direpta, omnia
contaminata. Nihil eorum manus evasit qui gratis ad
flagitium discurrunt, ad honestum nec pretio.”
To what does all this refer? It reads most like a description of the
Red King’s harryings at Coulaines in 1098 (see p. 234); but no one is
mentioned, whereas the “Rex Anglicus” and his “tyrannis” are openly
spoken of further on in the letter. And it is strange, if in all this
there is no reference to the fire of 1099. Did Hildebert attribute the
fire to Helias, and does that account for any enmity towards him? Yet
the version of the Biographer as clearly makes the fire the work of
the Normans as the version of Orderic. Helias is not mentioned by
name, nor is any recorded act of his distinctly mentioned. The passage
is obscure, most likely purposely obscure. It might be so construed as
to attribute all mischief to Helias; it might be so construed as not
to lay any particular act to his charge. But in any case Helias would
at least come under the general condemnation which is pronounced upon
all the counts of Maine, be they six or fewer. No friend of Helias
could have so spoken; and it is plain that, when Bishop Hildebert
wrote the letter, he was――very naturally――not a little angry, if not
with Helias in particular, yet at least with a class of men among whom
Helias must be reckoned.
Of the rest of the letter I shall have to speak in another Note.
NOTE LL. Vol. ii. p. 238.
THE SURRENDER OF LE MANS TO WILLIAM RUFUS.
It is not very easy at first sight to reconcile our accounts of the
negotiations which led to the surrender of Le Mans in August 1098. Yet
there seems to be no direct contradiction of any moment. It seems not
impossible that the difference is merely one of those cases where one
writer gives prominence to some feature in the story which another
writer leaves out.
According to all accounts, Le Mans was at this time in the possession
of Fulk of Anjou. Orderic (see p. 237) makes him personally present in
the city; the Biographer of the Bishops does not say whether he was
there or not. But in any case the city had admitted his authority in
May and had not yet thrown it off. Fulk was therefore fully in a
position to negotiate with William, while Helias, who was a prisoner
in William’s hands, was not strictly in a position to negotiate with
anybody. Yet the Biographer makes no mention of Fulk as an actor or a
party to the treaty, but only as one of whose devices Helias was
afraid. In his version Bishop Hildebert and some of the chief men of
Le Mans first, by the King’s leave, visit the captive Count, and agree
on terms with him; then they draw up a treaty with the King according
to those terms. The tale runs thus (Vet. An. 306);
“Helias timens ne Fulco comes proscriptioni ejus intenderet,
manduvit ad se episcopum et quosdam ex primoribus civitatis
ex consensu regis, et cœpit agere cum eis, eosque
suppliciter deprecari, quatenus casibus illius condolentes,
modis omnibus niterentur, qualiter civitatem regi traderent,
ipsumque a vinculis liberarent. Timebat enim quod Fulco
comes, regis deceptus muneribus, cum eo pacem faceret, atque
civitate tradita perpetuo damnaretur exsilio. Episcopus
autem et qui cum eo venerant, ejus angustias miserantes, cum
rege de ejus liberatione locuti, cum eo tale pactum
fecerunt, ut si eorum consilio atque ingenio sibi civitas
traderetur, ipse Heliam comitem quietum et liberum abire
permitteret.”
He adds, hurrying matters a little; “Quod negotium industria præsulis
celerius quam sperabatur effectum, eodemque tempore et regi civitas et
consuli abeundi libertas reddita est.”
Orderic, on the other hand (772 D), has a version in which there is no
mention of any dealings with Helias, but which makes William and
Fulk――the latter, it would seem, under some pressure――agree on terms
substantially the same as those stated in the other account. His
version runs thus;
“Andegavenses autem cum Cenomannis consiliati sunt, et sese
Normannis in omnibus inferiores compererunt, unde colloquium
inter regem et consulem procuraverunt. Ibi tunc, auxiliante
Deo, necessaria pax inter eos facta est, et inde multis pro
pluribus causis utriusque populi gaudium ingens exortum est.
Requisitum est et concessum ut Helias comes et omnes qui
capti fuerant ex utraque parte redderentur, et Cenomannis et
_omnia castra quæ Guillelmus rex habuerat Rufo filio ejus
subjugarentur_.”
The joy of which Orderic speaks clearly did not extend to Angers. The
Chronicle of Saint Albinus (1098) puts things in quite another light;
“Quam [Cenomanniam urbem] tribus mensibus retentam, Cenomanensibus,
more suo, sibi fraudantibus et a se deficientibus, reddidit eam in
amicitia præfato regi Anglorum, qui ipsam urbem _magis pecunia quam
viribus impugnabat_ jamque pene possidebat.”
Here we have no mention of Helias or of any dealings with him, nothing
of any agreement between Fulk and William. The citizens of Le Mans
fall away from the Angevin Count and betray their city to the King.
And they fall away through the temptation which the Red King knew well
how to bring to bear upon his other enemies, but of which there is no
recorded instance in the whole history of the war of Maine. See p.
290.
The tone and effect of these stories is very different, and yet they
seem quite capable of being put together. It is simply that each
writer enlarges on the persons and things which he cares most about.
The Biographer of the Bishops of course enlarges on the part taken by
Hildebert; next to Hildebert, he has to tell of Helias. A mission of
Hildebert to Helias was a thing which he could not leave out; the fact
that the terms were settled between his own Bishop and his own Count
was more interesting to him than the fact that those terms were put in
the form of a formal treaty between two foreign princes. He cannot
leave out the Norman king, but he can and does leave out the Angevin
count. He speaks of a treaty between William and Fulk as a thing which
was likely to happen; he leaves out the fact that it actually did
happen. The Angevin Chronicler is angry at the loss of Le Mans, and is
glad to speak of its loss as due altogether to Cenomannian treason or
fickleness. Orderic alone, who is, more strictly than either of the
others, telling the history of the campaign, and who is less
influenced by local passion one way or another, brings out the
diplomatic fact that the treaty was formally agreed to in a meeting
between King William and Count Fulk. It must have taken the shape of
an agreement of some kind between them, unless Fulk and his troops had
been driven out of Le Mans by force. But this in no way shuts out the
possibility of the dealings between Hildebert and Helias which are
described by the Biographer. The state of things would seem to be
this. The people of Le Mans, tired of Fulk, unable to have Helias,
think that the best thing is to submit to William, but on terms which
will secure at least the personal freedom of their native prince.
Hildebert and his companions are allowed by William to confer with
Helias. The results of the conference are put into the shape of a
treaty between William and Fulk. Fulk is in no condition to resist
William and the Cenomannian people together; he therefore accepts the
treaty, doubtless against his will. Thus the accounts of Orderic and
the Biographer seem simply to fill up gaps in one another. The Angevin
chronicler simply gives a short and snarling summary of the actual
result.
NOTE MM. Vol. ii. p. 239.
THE FORTRESSES OF LE MANS.
A great deal about the walls and the castle of Le Mans, as well as
about several other points in the county of Maine, will be found in M.
Hucher’s book, _Études sur l’Histoire et les Monuments du Département
de la Sarthe_ (Le Mans and Paris, 1856). M. Hucher however hardly
carries his researches beyond the city itself; so that, while his
remarks and the documents which he quotes tell us much about the
“regia turris,” the castle close to the cathedral, he has but little
to tell us about the fortress of Mont-Barbé, which is for our purpose
of at least equal interest.
I have quoted elsewhere (N. C. iii. 207) some of the passages which
record the building of at least two castles by the Conqueror, the
royal tower and that of Mont-Barbé. In the extract from William of
Jumièges for “_p_onte Barbato” we must read “_m_onte.” Benoît, oddly
enough, knew the name of Mont-Barbé, but did not know that of the
royal tower (35735);
“Por ce i ferma deus chasteaus
Hauz, defensables, forz e beaus;
Li uns en out non Monbarbé:
Mais que issi fu apelé
Ne sai retraire ne ne truis.”
Wace, on the other hand (15014), in his wild chronology of all
Cenomannian matters, makes William Rufus build this castle in
the expedition of 1099;
“Li Reis vint el Mans fièrement,
Son hostel prist vers Saint Vincent.
Por grever cels de la cité
Fist la mote devant Barbé.”
But this story, though utterly out of its place, may possibly preserve
a fact. The royal tower was undoubtedly built by the Conqueror after
he had taken Le Mans in 1063 in order to secure the possession of the
city. But Mont Barbé looks rather like one of the besieging castles
made in order to get possession. Nothing is now left but the mound.
William may conceivably have found this mound ready made. If not, his
building of 1063 must have been of wood, though it may very likely
have had a stone successor. The mound, not far from Saint Vincent’s
abbey, stands in a private garden, and the visitor to Le Mans, unless
he has local guidance, may very likely fail to find it. I missed it at
my first visit in 1868, which must be my excuse for the rather vague
language in the third volume of the Norman Conquest. I saw it for the
first time in 1876, through the kindness of M. Henri Chardon, and
again in 1879 with Mr. Parker and Mr. Fowler.
The question remains, Was there a Mons _Barbatulus_ as well as a Mons
_Barbatus_? The passages quoted from Orderic and William of Jumièges
(N. C. vol. iii. p. 207) seem to imply it; only the odd thing is that
the words of William of Jumièges seem to leave out the royal tower,
and to speak of _Barbatus_ and _Barbatulus_ only. And one might take
the words of Wace, “La mote _devant_ Barbé,” to mean _Barbatulus_
rather than _Barbatus_; only it would be hard to find another _mota_.
_Barbatulus_ is conjecturally, but with every likelihood, placed on
the site of the present Lyceum, between _Barbatus_ and the city.
The royal tower was built just outside the Roman wall, two of whose
bastions, known as _La Tour Margot_――after Margaret, the promised
bride of Robert?――and _La Tour du Cavalier_, were taken into its
precinct. All these must be distinguished from the palace of the
Counts (see N. C. vol. iii. p. 205) which stands on the Roman wall,
almost in a line with the east end of the cathedral. It contains a
window of the twelfth century, of great width, a feature
characteristic of Le Mans. In this palace was the _sainte chapelle_ of
the Counts.
NOTE NN. Vol. ii. p. 240.
THE DATES OF THE BUILDING OF LE MANS CATHEDRAL.
I have more than once, in the History of the Norman Conquest, had to
speak of the dates of the various parts of the church of Saint Julian
at Le Mans. The subject is so closely connected with so many names
which appear in our story that an inquiry of this kind can hardly be
thought out of place. My later visits to Le Mans have enabled me to
examine and consider several points again; and I am now inclined to
think that there is very little, if anything, standing in the present
church of an earlier date than William the Conqueror’s first taking of
Le Mans in 1063. I have got some help from a local book, called
“Recherches sur la Cathédrale du Mans. Par L’Abbé….” (Le Mans, 1872);
but its architectural criticism is not of a high order. Another local
book, “L’Ancien Chapitre Cathédral du Mans, par Armand Bellée,
Archiviste de la Sarthe” (Le Mans, 1875), is a very thorough piece of
capitular history, but it throws little light on the architecture.
The earliest church of which we have any certain account was a
basilica of the ninth century. Saint Aldric, bishop from 832 to 856,
rebuilt the cathedral church, of which he consecrated the eastern part
in 834 and the rest in 835. I have for these dates to trust the author
of the “Recherches sur la Cathédrale du Mans,” who quotes from a
manuscript life of Aldric in the library at Le Mans. (I have seen the
volume, and I could wish that it was in print.) The time allowed for
the building is wonderfully short; but Aldric, if he did all that is
attributed to him by the Biographer of the Bishops (Vet. An. 276),
must have been a man of wonderful energy. There is nothing said
directly of his works at Saint Julian’s; but they might almost be
taken for granted when we hear of the many churches which he built and
restored (“Ædificia quæ prædictus pontifex multipliciter a novo
operatus est, et ecclesias sive nonnulla monasteria quæ a novo
fundavit atque perficere et ornare studuit, necnon et restaurationes
aliorum monasteriorum et ceterarum ecclesiarum,” &c. &c. &c). In
the days of the next Bishop Robert (856-885) Le Mans was sacked by the
Northmen and the church burned. We are of course met by the usual
difficulty as to the amount of destruction which is implied in words
of this kind; but it naturally led to a restoration, and to a new
dedication, on which last point however it seems to have been thought
needful to consult the Pope (“Matrem ecclesiam, a paganis incensam,
diligenti studio renovavit, et ex consilio Romani antistitis jam denuo
celeberrime consecravit;” 287*). We hear again (296*) of a dedication
under Bishop Mainard (940-960); but not of any rebuilding, just as in
some of the intermediate episcopates (Vet. An. 288* et seqq.) we hear
a good deal about havoc and desecration, but nothing about actual
destruction. The church of Aldric, allowing for the restorations of
Robert and any later repairs, seems plainly to have stood till the
days of Vulgrin (1055-1067), the earliest Bishop of Le Mans who has
even an indirect share in the building of the present church. No work
of his, unless possibly the merest fragments, seems to be now
standing; but he was the beginner of a great work of rebuilding which
gave us what we now see.
In the Life of Vulgrin (Vet. An. 312*) we are simply told that in 1060
he began the foundations of a new church on a greater scale (“Quinto
ordinationis suæ anno fundamenta matris ecclesiæ ampliora quam
fuerant, inchoavit, sed morte inopina superveniente perficere non
potuit”). His foundations were badly laid and his work was unskilful;
so that, while attempts were making under his successor Arnold
(1067-1082) to prop it up, it fell down. Arnold accordingly destroyed
the whole work of Vulgrin, and began again from a new foundation. The
extent of his work is clearly marked. He finished the eastern limb, as
far as its walls and outer roof were concerned; its internal
adornments he left for his successor. Of the transepts with their
towers he merely laid the foundations;
“Fabrica novæ ecclesiæ quam præsul Vulgrinus inchoaverat,
fundamentorum mobilitate atque lapidum debilitate corrupta,
innumera crepidine ruinam suam cœpit terribiliter minitari;
quam dum artifices fulcire conantur, repentino fragore
nocturno tempore collapsa est…. Inde … episcopus totam cœpti
operis fabricam usque ad ima fundamenta destruens, denuo
ipsam ecclesiam fundamento firmiori et solidiori lapide
construere cœpit, et parti superiori quæ vulgo cancellum
nominatur etiam tectum imposuit, membrorum quoque quæ cruces
vocantur atque turrium solidissima fundamenta antequam
moreretur instituens” (313*).
That he added only the outer roof is plain from what we read of his
successor Howel (Vet. An. 289). As Howel adorned the “cancellum” with
a pavement and stained glass windows, he also added a painted ceiling;
“Cancellum quod ejus antecessor construxerat pavimento
decoravit et cœlo, vitreas quoque per ipsum cancellum, per
quod cruces circum quoque laudabili sed sumptuosa nimium
artis varietate disponens.”
So again, p. 299;
“Cœpit … superiores partes ejusdem basilicæ diligenti
sollicitudine laborare, oratorium scilicet quod chorum
vocitant sedemque pontificalem, altaria congrua dimensione
disponere, pavimenta substernere, columnas ac laquearia
gratissima varietate depingere, parietes per circuitum
dealbare.”
Howel also finished the transepts and towers of which Arnold had
merely laid the foundations (Vet. An. 289);
“Fabricam novæ ecclesiæ … tanto studio aggressus est
consummare ut cruces atque turres, quarum antecessor ipsius
… jecerat fundamenta brevi tempore ad effectum perduxit.”
We see then what the work of Vulgrin and Arnold was. It touched the
eastern part only; Aldric’s nave was left alone. The original church
was a basilica, most likely with three apses, but without transepts.
The new design was to rebuild the eastern part on a greater scale with
transepts, transept towers (like Geneva and Exeter), and a choir
ending in an apse with a surrounding aisle and chapels――as is shown by
the mention of many altars. The arrangement was that of the two other
great churches of Le Mans, _La Couture_ and Saint Julian in the
Meadow, with the single exception of the towers, which do not appear
in either of those churches. Arnold built the choir, and began the
transepts and towers; Howel adorned the choir and finished the
transepts and towers. There is nothing to imply that either of them
touched the nave. The arcades of Aldric’s basilica were therefore
still standing when William the Great came in 1063 and again in 1073.
The work of Vulgrin in the eastern part was doubtless going on at the
earlier of those two dates, and that of Arnold at the later.
It must be plain to every one who has seen the building that the work
of these bishops in the eastern part of the church has given way to
the later choir and transepts. The choir was built between 1218 and
1254, and its great extension to the east involved, as at Lincoln, the
destruction of part of the Roman wall. The transepts were built at
several times from 1303 to 1424. They are among the very noblest works
of the architecture of those centuries; but we may be allowed to
rejoice that, as the works of Vulgrin and Arnold left Aldric’s nave
standing, so the great works of the thirteenth century and later have
left the nave which succeeded that of Aldric. With all its artistic
loveliness, the work of the later day cannot share the historic
interest of the works of the times of William and Howel, of Helias and
Hildebert.
In the present nave it is plain at the first glance that there are two
dates of Romanesque; a further examination may perhaps lead to the
belief that there are more than two. It is easy to see outside that
the aisles and the clerestory are of different dates. The masonry of
the aisles is of that Roman type which, in places like Le Mans, where
Roman models were abundant, remained in use far into the middle ages,
and which in some places can hardly be said to have ever gone out of
use at all. The masonry of the clerestory is ashlar. The difference is
equally clear between the plain single windows of the aisles and the
highly finished coupled windows of the clerestory. Inside, the eye
soon sees that the design has undergone a singular change. Without the
pulling down of any part, the church put on a new character. Columns
supporting round arches after the manner of a basilica were changed
into a series of alternate columns and square piers supporting
obtusely pointed arches. Each pair of arches therefore forms a
couplet, and answers to a single bay of the pointed vaulting and a
single pair of windows in the clerestory. The object clearly was to
give the building as nearly the air of an Angevin nave, like that of
La Couture (see N. C. vol. v. p. 619), as could be given where there
were real piers and arches. Now this reconstruction, one which brings
in the pointed arch, cannot possibly be earlier than the episcopate of
William of Passavant, Bishop from 1143 to 1187. He was a great
builder; he translated the body of Saint Julian (Vet. An. 366); he
celebrated a dedication of the church (Ib. 370), which my local book
fixes, seemingly from manuscripts, to 1158, a date a little early
perhaps for such advanced work, but not impossible. To William of
Passavant then we must attribute the recasting of the nave, and
whatever else seems to be of the same date. To this last head belongs
the great south porch, and, I should be inclined to add, the lower
part of the southern, the only remaining, tower, though some assign it
to Hildebert. The question now comes, What was the nave which William
of Passavant recast in this fashion, and whose work was it?
We have seen that we cannot attribute any work in the nave to any
prelate earlier than Howel. He must have found the nave of the ninth
century still standing. Did he do anything in that part of the church?
He performed a ceremony of dedication in 1093 (Vet. An. 300); but that
would be fully accounted for by his works in the eastern part. On the
other hand, Hildebert celebrated in 1120 (Vet. An. 320) a specially
solemn dedication, and the words used seem to imply that the church
was now complete in all its parts. The words of Orderic (531 D) seem
express. Howel began to build the church (“episcopalem basilicam …
condere cœpit”); Hildebert finished it (“basilicam episcopii quam
prædecessor ejus inchoaverat, consummavit, et cum ingenti populorum
tripudio veneranter dedicavit”). It is doubtless not strictly true
that Howel began the church, words which shut out the work of Vulgrin
and Arnold; but the time when Orderic wrote makes him a better
authority for Hildebert’s finishing than for Howel’s beginning, and
the expression might easily be used if Howel began that particular
work, namely the nave, which Hildebert finished. I do not think that
we need infer from certain expressions of the Biographer that
Hildebert left the nave, or any essential part of the building,
unfinished. He says indeed (Vet. An. 320);
“Hildebertus opus ecclesiæ, quod per longa tempora
protractum fuerat, suo tempore insistens consummare,
dedicationem ultra quam res exposcebat accelerans, multa
inibi necessaria inexpleta præteriit.”
Comparing this with the words of Orderic, this surely need not mean
more than that, though the fabric was perfect, yet much of the
ornamental work was left unfinished. Hildebert, in short, left the
nave much as Arnold left the choir. At least the nave was in this case
when he dedicated the church. For he had time after the dedication to
make good anything that was imperfect.
We should then infer from Orderic that the nave which William of
Passavant recast was begun by Howel and finished by Hildebert. This
may give us the key to a passage in the Biographer on which we might
otherwise be inclined to put another meaning. After describing Howel’s
building of the transepts in the words quoted above in p. 635, he goes
on (289);
“Eisque [crucibus] celeriter culmen imponens, exteriores
etiam parietes, quos alas vocant, per circuitum
consummavit.”
One might have been tempted to take this of transept aisles; but,
weighing one thing with another, it seems to be best understood as
meaning that Howel rebuilt the whole of the outer walls of the nave
and its aisles. This would give to him the whole extent of the
_quasi_-Roman work of the aisles, together with the great western
doorway. The interior work of the aisles seems also to agree with his
date. We must therefore suppose that Howel rebuilt the nave aisles
only, still leaving the arches of Aldric’s basilica. Then Hildebert
rebuilt or thoroughly restored the nave itself, with the columns and
arches and whatever they carried in the way of triforium and
clerestory. We may therefore suppose that the existing columns, as
distinguished from the square piers, are his work, though the splendid
capitals of many of them must have been added or carved out of the
block in the recasting by William of Passavant.
There is however one fragment of the nave arcades which is older than
Hildebert, very likely older than Howel. This is to be seen in the
first pier from the east. I need not say that the eastern bay of a
nave often belongs to an older work than the rest, being in truth part
of the eastern limb continued so far――perhaps for constructive
reasons, to act as a buttress――perhaps for ritual reasons, to mark the
ritual choir――very often for both reasons combined. One of the best
examples is that small part of the nave of Durham abbey which belongs
to the work of William of Saint-Calais (see N. C. vol. v. p. 631). At
this point then in the nave of Le Mans, we find half columns with
capitals and bases of a strangely rude kind, more like Primitive
Romanesque (see N. C. vol. v. pp. 613, 618, 628) than anything either
Norman or Angevin. These are assuredly not the work of Hildebert.
There is one argument for assigning them to Howel, namely that
something of the same kind is to be found in the remains of the
northern tower of which I shall speak in another Note (see below, Note
RR). But if any one holds them to be the work of Arnold or of Vulgrin,
or even looks on them as a surviving fragment of the basilica of the
days of Lewis the Pious, I shall not dispute against him.
I must add however that, between Hildebert and William of Passavant,
we have, according to the use of Le Mans, to account for two
fires――“solita civitatis incendia,” as the Biographer (Vet. An. 349)
calls them――and their consequences. In 1134 there was a fire which,
according to the Biographer (350), was more fearful than any which had
ever happened at Le Mans since the city was built, not even excepting
the great one of 1098. Everything perished. “Tota Cenomannensis
civitas cum omnibus ecclesiis quæ intra muros continebantur, evanuit
in favillas.” We read of the “matris ecclesiæ destructio” and
“combustio,” all the more lamentable because of its beauty――“ipsa enim
tam venustate sui quam claritate tunc temporis vicinis et remotis
excellebat ecclesiis.” So Orderic (899 B); “Tunc Cenomannis
episcopalis basilica, quæ pulcherrima erat, concremata est.” The then
Bishop, Guy of Étampes (1126-1136), spent two hundred pounds in trying
to repair the damage; “Ad cujus restaurationem cc. libras
Cenomannenses dedit, sine mora contulit, et omnibus modis desudavit
quomodo ipsa ad perpetuitatem decenter potuisset restaurari.” Under
the next Bishop, Hugh of Saint-Calais (1146-1153), there was another
fire, the account of which is very curious (Vet. An. 349);
“Ignis circa meridiem a vico sancti Vincentii prosiliens,
sibi opposita usque ad muros civitatis et domos episcopales,
tegmenque sacelli beati Juliani adhuc stramineum, cum
fenestris vitreis concremavit et macerias, et in summis
imagines sculptas lapidibus deturbavit.”
The people break open the shrine of Saint Julian in order to save his
body, which they carry to the place where the Bishop was. The Bishop
seems to have repaired the episcopal buildings before he touched the
church, and the details have some interest in the history of domestic
architecture (“domum petrinam ex parte sancti Audoëni positam, decenti
solariorum interpositu numerosas fenestras habentium cum sua camera
continuavit”). Presently we read;
“Beatissimum patrem nostrum Julianum ipso die a lignea
basilica in occidentali membro ecclesiæ intra macerias
facta, post incendium in qua fere triennio requieverat, in
redivivam sollenniter, clero cantibus insultante, populo
congaudente, transtulerunt ecclesiam.”
We do not hear of any more building, but there is a long list (Vet.
An. 354) of the ornaments which Bishop Hugh gave to the Church.
Some of the expressions used in these passages are very odd. “Sacellum
beati Juliani” is a strange phrase for the cathedral church, and yet
the thatched roof and the glass windows must be spoken of a building
and not of a mere shrine. It is Saint Julian’s church itself whose
roof and windows are spoken of. But the phrase “lignea basilica,”
which makes one think of Glastonbury, must not lead us to think that
any wooden church of early days was then standing at Le Mans. The
whole story seems quite intelligible, without supposing any really
architectural work between Hildebert and William of Passavant. The
language of the Biographer in describing the fire of 1134 is, as so
often happens, very much exaggerated. His own account shows that the
walls of the church were left standing. It looks on the whole as if
the roof was destroyed in 1134. It was hastily repaired with thatch.
It was burned again, and the clerestory (“fenestræ vitreæ”) with it,
at the next fire in 1146-1153. The whole church perhaps remained for a
while unfit for divine service. Then some wooden structure (“lignea
basilica”) was raised within the walls of the nave (“in occidentali
membro ecclesiæ intra macerias facta”). Meanwhile Bishop Hugh repaired
the choir (“rediviva ecclesia”), seemingly doing nothing to the nave.
Bishop William, finding things in this state, rebuilt the clerestory
and vaulted it Angevin fashion. So to do required that every alternate
column of the nave should be built up into a square pier. This again
required a change in the line of the arches, and, according to the
fashion just coming in, they were made obtusely pointed. If any one
thinks that the superb foliage of the nave capitals must be later than
1158, he may hold that they were cut out afterwards, or he may even
hold that Bishop William’s dedication in that year belongs only to the
eastern parts――where something was clearly done in his time or
thereabouts――and that the whole recasting of the nave came later in
his long episcopate.
* * * * *
I am not writing an architectural history of the church of Saint
Julian, and I have perhaps, as it is, gone more into detail than my
subject called for. I think that any one who has been at Le Mans will
forgive me. But there are many architectural points in this wonderful
church on which I have not entered. There is much also in the other
two minsters of Le Mans which throws much light on the work at Saint
Julian’s. I have merely tried in a general way to assign to their most
probable dates and founders the different parts of a church which so
often meets us in our present history.
NOTE OO. Vol. ii. p. 242.
THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN WILLIAM RUFUS AND HELIAS.
We have two chief accounts of this remarkable interview, one in
Orderic, 773 B, the other in William of Malmesbury, iv. 320. As with
some of the other anecdotes of William Rufus, Orderic tells the story
in its place as part of his regular narrative, while William of
Malmesbury brings it in, along with the story of his crossing to
Touques, as a mere anecdote, to illustrate the King’s “præclara
magnanimitas.” And he tells the tale very distinctly out of its place,
for he puts it after the voyage to Touques, that is in the campaign of
1099, whereas it is clear that it happened during the campaign of
1098. One’s feelings are a little shocked when he speaks of “auctor
turbarum, Helias _quidam_,” which reminds one of the meeting between
the Count’s earlier namesake and another tyrant (“venit Achab in
occursum Eliæ. Et cum vidisset eum, ait; Tune es ille, qui conturbas
Israël?” 3 Regg. xviii. 16). To be sure he does afterwards speak of
the “alta nobilitas” of the Count of Maine.
There is a good deal of difference in the details of the dialogue in
the two accounts. That in William of Malmesbury is much shorter, and
consists wholly of an exchange of short and sharp sayings between the
speakers, which are certainly very characteristic of William Rufus.
There is nothing in this version of the offer of Helias to enter the
King’s service, or of the counsel given by Robert of Meulan. In
Orderic’s version Helias speaks first, with the offer of service,
beginning “Rex inclute, mihi, quæso, subveni pro tua insigni
strenuitate;” and we read, “Liberalis rex hoc facile annuere decrevit,
sed Rodbertus Mellenticus comes pro felle livoris dissuasit.” Then,
after speeches on both sides which are not given, comes the defiance
of Helias, in these words;
“Libenter, domine rex, tibi servirem, si tibi placeret,
gratiamque apud te invenirem. Amodo mihi, quæso, noli
derogare, si aliud conabor perpetrare. Patienter ferre
nequeo quod meam mihi ablatam hæreditatem perspicio. Ex
violentia prævalente omnis mihi denegatur rectitudo.
Quamobrem nemo miretur si calumniam fecero, si avitum
honorem totis nisibus repetiero.”
All this is represented in William of Malmesbury by two sentences;
“Cui [Heliæ] ante se adducto rex ludibundus, ‘Habeo te,
magister,’ dixit. At vero illius alta nobilitas quæ nesciret
in tanto etiam periculo humilia sapere, humilia loqui;
‘Fortuitu,’ inquit, ‘me cepisti; sed si possem evadere, novi
quid facerem.’”
This is very characteristic of Rufus; is it equally so of Helias?
Surely the two speeches given to him by Orderic――allowing for a little
improvement in the process of turning them into Latin――much better
suit his character and position. And we can hardly fancy that Helias’
offer to enter William’s service, the King’s inclination to accept it,
and the evil counsel given by Robert of Meulan――all likewise
thoroughly characteristic――are all mere invention.
The last speech of Rufus is much fuller in William of Malmesbury than
in Orderic. Orderic simply says, “Cui turgidus rex ait, ‘Vade, et age
quidquid mihi potes agere.’” In the other version this becomes;
“Tum Willelmus, præ furore extra se positus, et obuncans
Heliam, ‘Tu,’ inquit, ‘nebulo, tu, quid faceres? Discede,
abi, fuge; concedo tibi ut facias quidquid poteris; et, per
vultum de Luca, nihil, si me viceris, pro hac venia tecum
paciscar.’”
He adds, without any mention of a regular safe-conduct,
“Nec inferius factum verbo fuit, sed continuo dimisit
evadere, miratus potius quam insectatus fugientem.”
* * * * *
I have in the text followed the version of Orderic, venturing only to
add the eminently characteristic words with which William of
Malmesbury begins and ends. They in no way disturb the main dialogue
as given by Orderic. But I must add that William of Malmesbury warns
us against supposing that William Rufus, either in this speech or in
his speech on the voyage to Touques, knowingly quoted Lucan. His words
are curious;
“Quis talia de illiterato homine crederet? Et fortassis erit
aliquis qui, Lucanum legens, falso opinetur Willelmum hæc
exempla de Julio Cæsare mutuatum esse: sed non erat ei
tantum studii vel otii ut literas unquam audiret; immo calor
mentis ingenitus, et conscia virtus, eum talia exprimere
cogebant. Et profecto, si Christianitas nostra pateretur,
sicut olim anima Euforbii transisse dicta est in Pythagoram
Samium, ita possit dici quod anima Julii Cæsaris transierit
in regem Willelmum.”
That is to say, Cæsar and William Rufus, being the same kind of men,
uttered the same kind of words. The passage of Lucan referred to is
where Domitius (ii. 512) is brought before Cæsar at Corfinium;
“Vive, licet nolis, et nostro munere, dixit,
Cerne diem, victis jam spes bona partibus esto,
Exemplumque mei: vel, si libet, arma retenta,
Et nihil hac venia, si viceris ipse, paciscor.”
That William Rufus should quote Lucan, as his brother Henry could most
likely have done, was so very unlikely that William of Malmesbury need
hardly have warned us against such a belief. At the same time it does
not seem impossible that he might have heard of Cæsar without having
read Lucan. But we must remember that whatever William Rufus said was
said in French, and not in Latin. Without supposing either that Rufus
had read Lucan or that the soul of Cæsar had passed into his body, we
may believe that William of Malmesbury or his informant could not
resist the temptation of translating his speech into the words of a
really appropriate passage of a favourite author; then, when he had
done this, the singular apology which I have quoted might seem
needful.
* * * * *
It must be remembered that William of Malmesbury puts this story
altogether out of place. It is put yet further out of its place by
Wace (15106), who makes the capture of Helias follow the siege of
Mayet (see p. 289). His version brings in some new details. Helias,
having been taken prisoner, makes (15120) a boastful speech to his
keepers, swearing by the patron saint of his city that, if he had not
fallen by chance into an ambuscade, he would soon have driven the King
of England out of all his lands beyond the sea (15120);
“Mais or vos dirai une rien:
Par monseignor Saint-Julien,
Se jo ne fusse si tost pris,
Mult éust poi en cest païs.
El rei eusse fait tant guerre,
Ke dechà la mer d’Engleterre
Plein pié de terre n’en éust,
Ne tur ne chastel ki suen feust;
Maiz altrement est avenu,
Il a cunquis è jo perdu.”
When this is told to the King, he causes Helias to be brought before
him; he gives him a horse, and bids him mount and ride whither he
will; only he had better take care that he is not caught again, as he
will not be let out of prison a second time;
“Dunc le fist li reis amener,
E des buies le fist oster,
Son palefrei fist demander
E mult richement enseler;
El conte dit: Dans quens, muntez
Alez kel part ke vos volez,
Fetes al mielx ke vos porrez,
Maiz altre feiz mielx vos gardez;
Kar se jo vos prene altre feiz,
Jamez de ma prison n’iestreiz.
Ne voil mie ke vos kuideiz
Ke de guerre sorpris seiz,
Mais vos n’ireiz jà nule part,
Ke jo près dos ne vos gart.”
(vv. 15134-15147.)
In this version the horse is something new, though not at all out of
place, as Helias could not well get away without a horse, and he could
not have had any horse at his command at the moment. We may note also
that William is here made, whether seriously or in mockery, to give
Helias the title of Count, “Dans quens.” But the story has very much
come down from the level of either of the other versions. The boastful
speech to the keepers is not at all in the style of Helias, and it is
a poor substitute either for the dignified offer and defiance in
Orderic or for the lively dialogue in William of Malmesbury. This last
we should gladly have had in Wace’s version, as there would have been
some faint chance of recovering a scrap or two more of the original
French to match the “Dans quens,” which has a genuine ring on the one
hand, as the “magister” and the “nebulo” of William of Malmesbury have
on the other.
* * * * *
Geoffrey Gaimar too (Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 37) has a version
in which Helias, when a prisoner, makes a boastful speech to the
effect that, if it had not been by an ambush, he would never have been
taken;
“Li quiens des Mans ert en prison,
Aüner voleit grant rançon;
Mès ceo diseit que, s’il séust
Qe l’om issi prendre le deust,
Tut autrement se contenist,
Li rois les Mans jà ne préist.”
He is brought before the King, to whom he says that he is much beloved
in his land, and that, if he were only able to assemble his men, no
king could subdue him in it. William lets him go to see what he can
do, and gives up to him Le Mans and all the castles of the country;
“Quant fut conté devant le roi,
Si le fist mener devant soi;
Par bel amur li ad demandé
S’il estoit issi vaunté
Cil respondit: ‘Sire, jo’l dis,
Mult sui amé en cest païs.
Il n’ad souz ciel si fort roi,
Si par force venist sus moi,
Qu’il ne perdist, si jeo le seusse,
Pur quei ma gent assemblé eusse.’
Li rois, quant l’ot, si prent à rire:
Par bel amur et nient par ire,
Li comanda q’il s’en alast,
Préist les Mans, s’il guerreiast.
Et cil fui lez, si s’en ala.
Touz ses chastels renduz li a
Li rois par bone volonté,
Rendit les Mans la forte cité.”
Helias calls on his barons to help him in war with the King; but they
decline, and advise him to give up the city and all the castles, and
to become the King’s man. He does so; otherwise the poet says that the
King would have thrown aside his friendship, and that he would have
taken the castles and put all concerned to a vile death;
“Et cil manda pur ses barons,
Moveir voloit les contençons,
Mès si baron li ont loé
Qu’il rende au roi la cité
Et les chasteus de son païs,
Son hom lige seit tuz dis.
Li quens Elyes issi fist,
Onc ses homes n’en contredist.
Et s’il issi ne l’éust fet
Mult fust entre els en amur plet;
Li rois par force les préist
Et de vile mort les occeist.”
I need hardly stop to show how utterly unhistorical all this is. But
the “bel amur,” the challenge, the release of the Count and the
surrender of the city and the castles, the general looking on war as a
kind of game, are all highly characteristic of the chivalrous King.
The last words indeed give us the other side of chivalry; but I
confess that they seem to me to be unfair to William Rufus, however
well they might suit Robert of Bellême. Geoffrey Gaimar lived to see
times when the doings of Robert of Bellême, exceptional in his own
day, had become the general rule.
NOTE PP. Vol. ii. p. 284.
THE VOYAGE OF WILLIAM RUFUS TO TOUQUES.
This story is told by a great many writers; but, as in the story of
the interview of William Rufus and Helias, our two main versions are
those of Orderic (775 A) and of William of Malmesbury (iv. 320). And,
as in the case of that story, with which William of Malmesbury couples
it, he tells it simply as an illustrative anecdote, while with Orderic
it is part of his regular narrative. And again William throws one of
the speeches into the form of a familiar classical quotation, and the
curious apology quoted in the last note is made to apply to this story
as well as to the other. At the same time there is no actual
contradiction between the two versions. The messenger――Amalchis
according to Orderic――reaches England and finds the King in the New
Forest. He thus (775 A) describes the delivery of the message; “Ille
mari transfretato Clarendonam venit, regi cum familiaribus suis in
Novam Forestam equitanti obviavit, et alacriter inquirenti rumores,
respondit, Cœnomannis per proditionem surrepta est. Verum dominus meus
Balaonem custodit, et regalis familia omnes munitiones sibi assignatas
sollerter observavit, auxiliumque regalis potentiæ vehementer
desiderat, in hostile robur quod eos undique includit et impugnat.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 320) does not mention the place; “Venationi
in quadam silva intentum nuntius detinuit ex transmarinis partibus,
obsessam esse civitatem Cinomannis, quam nuper fratre profecto suæ
potestati adjecerat.” This is a somewhat inadequate summary of the
Cenomannian war.
Now comes the King’s answer, in which I have ventured in the text to
bring in both the speeches which are attributed to Rufus on first
hearing the news of the loss of Le Mans. In Orderic the story stands
thus;
“His auditis, rex dixit, ‘Eamus trans mare, nostros
adjuvare. Eodem momento inconsultis omnibus equum habenis
regiravit, ipsumque calcaribus urgens ad pontum festinavit,
et in quandam vetustam navim quam forte invenit, sine regio
apparatu velut plebeius intravit et remigare protinus
imperavit. Sic nimirum nec congruentem flatum nec socios nec
alia quæ regiam dignitatem decebant exspectavit; sed omnis
metus expers fortunæ et pelago sese commisit, et sequenti
luce ad portum Tolchæ, Deo duce, salvus applicuit.’”
He then goes on with the graphic details of the landing at Touques and
the ride to Bonneville, which find no place in William of Malmesbury.
William’s version is as follows;
“Statim ergo ut expeditus erat retorsit equum, iter ad mare
convertens. Admonentibus ducibus exercitum advocandum,
paratos componendos, ‘Videbo,’ ait, ‘quis me sequetur;
putatis me non habiturum homines? si cognovi juventutem
meam, etiam naufragio ad me venisse volet.’ Hoc igitur modo
pene solus ad mare pervenit. Erat tunc nubilus aer et ventus
contrarius; flatus violentia terga maris verrebat. Illum
statim transfretare volentem nautæ exorant ut pacem pelagi
et ventorum clementiam operiatur. ‘Atqui,’ inquit rex,
‘numquam audivi regem naufragio interiisse.’ Quin potius
solvite retinacula navium, videbitis elementa jam conspirata
in meum obsequium. Ponto transito, obsessores, ejus audita
fama, dissiliunt.”
Then follows the interview with Helias, quite out of place.
Here we have several separate details in each version; but they quite
fit into one another. Of Rufus’ two speeches before he rides off, each
seems to need the support of the other. The speech to the sailors
lurks as it were in the words of Orderic, “remigare protinus
imperavit,” and his other words, “fortunæ et pelago sese commisit,”
suggest the same general idea which comes out in them. They suggest
the well-known story of Cæsar which William of Malmesbury seems to
have in his head, which is told by Florus (iv. ii. 37), Appian (Bell.
Civ. ii. 57), and Plutarch (Cæsar, 38). The Latin writer says only
“Quid times? Caesarem vehis?” while the two Greek writers bring in the
word τύχη [tychê] (Ἴθι, γενναῖε, τόλμα καὶ δέδιθι μηδέν. Καίσαρα
φέρεις καὶ τὴν Καίσαρος τύχην συμπλέουσαν). ([Ithi, gennaie, tolma kai
dedithi mêden. Kaisara phereis kai tên Kaisaros tychên sympleousan]).
Our writers are not likely to have read either of the Greek books, and
there is enough about “Fortuna” in the passage of Lucan (v. 577-593)
which William of Malmesbury at least must have had in his eye, and
where the few words of Appian and the fewer of Florus grow into a
speech of many lines. The odd thing however is that the actual words
do not seem to come from anything in Lucan, but to be in a manner made
up out of two passages of Claudian. We get the sentiment in one (De
III Cons. Hon. 96);
“O nimium dilecte Deo, cui fundit ab antris
Æolus armatas hiemes, cui militat æther,
Et conjurati veniunt ad classica venti.”
But the actual words come nearer to the other (De IV Cons. Hon. 284);
“Nonne vides, operum quo se pulcherrimus ille
Mundus amore ligat, nec vi connexa per ævum
Conspirant elementa sibi?”
Just as in the other story, we may suppose that Rufus said something
which, in the course of improving into Latin, suggested the words of
the two Latin poets. The saying that he had never heard of a king
being drowned surely has the genuine stamp of the Red King about it.
And it is to be remembered that there is a passage which evidently
refers to the same story in a grave contemporary, who takes his
quotations, not from heathen poets but from the New Testament. Eadmer
(54) attributes to William Rufus, as a general privilege, something
like what in our own day we have been used to call “Queen’s weather;”
“Ventus insuper et ipsum mare videbantur ei obtemperare.
Verum dico, non mentior, quia quum de Anglia in Normanniam
transire vel inde cursum prout ipsum voluntas sua ferebat,
redire volebat, mox, illo adveniente, et mari
appropinquante, omnis tempestas, quæ nonnunquam immane
sæviebat, sedabatur, et transeunti mira tranquillitate
famulabatur.”
It is worth notice that the same idea is found, besides Lucan and
Claudian, in a third Latin writer, who is much less likely to have
been known to either Orderic or William of Malmesbury. This is in the
Panegyric addressed by Eumenius to the elder Constantius (Pan. Vet. v.
14). He is describing the voyage of Constantius to Britain to put down
Allectus, when, as in the cases of Cæsar and William Rufus, the
weather was bad;
“Quis enim se, quamlibet iniquo mari, non auderet credere,
te navigante? Omnium, ut dicitur, accepto nuntio
navigationis tuæ, una vox et hortatio fuit; ‘Quid dubitamus?
quid moramur? Ipse jam solvit, jam provehitur, jam fortasse
pervenit. Experiamur omnia, per quoscumque fluctus eamus.
Quid est, quod timere possimus? Cæsarem sequimur.’”
Eumenius of course had the story of the earlier Cæsar in his mind.
In all these versions the saying of William Rufus seems to be quoted
as an instance of his pride and irreverence. Matthew Paris alone
(Hist. Angl. i. 166) gives his speech an unexpectedly pious turn. To
the shipman, who addresses him as “hominum audacissime” and asks
“numquid tu ventis et mari poteris imperare?” he answers, “Non
frequenter [no longer “never” but “hardly ever”] auditum est, reges
Christianos Deum invocantes fluctibus fuisse submersos. Aliqui de
oppressis et obsessis apud Cenomannem orant pro me, quos Deus, etsi
non me, clementer exaudiet.” Matthew also makes the news be brought to
the King, not when he is hunting, but when he is at a feast.
* * * * *
The story is found, in one shape or another, in all the riming
chronicles. Wace (14908), who tells the whole story of Helias’ entry
into Le Mans with great spirit, but utterly out of place, gives a
vivid picture of the coming of the messenger;
“En Engleterre esteit li reis,
Mult out Normanz, mult out Engleis;
Brachez aveit fet demander,
En boiz voloit aler berser.
Eis vus par là un sergeant
Ki d’ultre mer veneit errant;
Li reis l’a mult tost entercié;
El Mans garder l’aveit leissié,
Crié li a è dist de luing;
Ke font el Mans, out il busuing?
Sire, dist-il, li Mans est pris,
Li quens Helies s’est enz mis,
La cité a Helies prise,
E la tor ad entor assise;
Normanz ki dedenz sa defendent.”
The passage in its general effect, and to some extent in its actual
words, recalls the better known description (10983; cf. N. C. vol.
iii. p. 258) of the news of Eadward’s death and Harold’s election
being brought to William the Great. It is perhaps to make the two
scenes more completely tally that Rufus, who, in Orderic and William
of Malmesbury, is already engaged in hunting, is in this version
merely going out to hunt. Of his father it was said;
“Mult aveit od li chevaliers
E dameisels et esquiers.”
But the son,
“Mult out _Normanz_, mult out _Engleis_.”
This reminds us of the other passage (see above, p. 533) where
“Normans” and “English” are made to help the fallen Rufus before Saint
Michael’s Mount. And the question again presents itself; What did Wace
exactly mean by Normans and English? We must remember his position.
Wace was a writer locally Norman, the chronicler of the Norman
Conquest, writing when, in England itself, the distinction of races
had nearly died out. His way of thinking and speaking, as that of one
accustomed to past times, would most likely be different both from
that of the time of which he is writing and from that which would be
familiar to either Normans or English――whether _genere_ or
_natione_――in his own time. In Rufus’ day “Normanz et Engleiz” would
have meant “Normanni et Angli _genere_,;” but it is not likely that
many “Angli _genere_” would be in the immediate company of the King.
In Wace’s own day, “Normanz et Engleiz” already meant “Normanni et
Angli _natione_;” only there would hardly have been any occasion for
using the phrase. Wace very likely used the phrase in a slightly
different sense in the two passages. Before the Mount, in describing a
warlike exploit, he most likely meant simply Norman and English
_natione_. In the present passage his mind perhaps floated between the
two meanings.
The King hears the news brought by the sergeant; he gives up his
purpose of hunting that day, and swears his usual oath by the face of
Lucca that those who have done him this damage shall pay for it;
“Li reis mua tot son corage
Dès ke il oï li message.
Li vo de Luche en a juré
Ke mult sera chier comperé.
Cest serement aveit en us,
Ne faiseit nul serement plus.”
He bids the messenger to cross the sea as fast as he can, to go to Le
Mans and to tell his forces there that by God’s help he will be there
to help them in eight days;
“D’ore en wit jors el Mans serai,
Dunc se Dex plaist les secorrai.”
He then――being in England, it must be remembered――asks the nearest way
to Le Mans. On the direct line which is shown him, there is a
well-built house. He says that he will not for a hundred marks of
silver turn a hundred feet out of the way. So he has the house pulled
down, and rides over the site to Southampton――not alone, in this
version, but with a following;
“Une maiziere li mostrerent,
Ço distrent ke il Mans ert là,
E ço dist ke par la ira;
Por cenz mars d’argent, ço diseit,
Del Mans cenz piez n’esluingnereit
De là, ù il ses piez teneit,
Quant li besuing del Mans oeit,
Dunc fist abatre la maiziere,
Ki mult esteit bone et entiere;
La maiziere fu abatue
E fete fu si grant l’issue
Ke li Reis Ros è li vassal
I passerent tuit à cheval.”
Absurd as this story is, and utterly irreconcileable with the earlier
versions, there is still a ring of William Rufus about it. And we may
safely accept Southampton as the haven from which he set out. But the
zeal for taking the straightest road which was so strong on him by
land seems to have passed away by sea, as he goes not to Touques but
to Barfleur, certainly not the nearest point for getting from
Southampton to Le Mans. The story of the voyage is told in much the
same way as in William of Malmesbury, the speech to the sailors
standing thus;
“Unkes, dist-il, n’oï parler
De Rei ki fu néié en mer;
Fetes vos nés el parfont traire,
Essaïez ke porreiz faire.”
Geoffrey Gaimar (Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 32) makes the
messenger bring a letter, which the King seemingly gives to Randolf
Flambard to read;
“‘Tenez cest bref, sire reis.’
Li reis le prist, tost le fruissat,
Ranulf Flambard le bref baillat.”
He sends the messenger back with a letter; he rides to Southampton,
orders a force to be got together to follow him, and himself crosses
with a company of twelve hundred rich knights. Otherwise the tale is
essentially the same. But it is worth noticing that Geoffrey, when he
gets among sea-faring folk, uses two English words (the steersman we
have already met with in his English garb in Domesday; see N. C. vol.
v. p. 763);
“Et il od mesnée privée,
Vint à la mier, si l’ad passée,
Encontre vent la mier passa.
Le _stieresman_ li demanda
S’il voleit contre vent aler
Et périller enz en la mier.
Li rois respont; ‘N’estœt parler,
Onques ne veistes roi néer,
Ne jéo n’ierc jà le primer.
Fetes vos _eschipes_ nager.’
Tant ont nagé et governé
Q’en Barbefloe e sont arivé.
Il out de privée meisnée
Mil-et-ii cenz à cele fiée.
Tuit erent riches chevaliers;
Sacez, li rois les out mult chers.”
Benoît (v. 40379) gives no details peculiar to himself; but he is
worth comparing with the others as a piece of language;
“Si fu de passer corajos,
Volunteris e desiros:
Mais mult furent li vent contraire
E la mers pesme e deputaire.”
But the central speech about a king being drowned is in much the same
words as in the other riming versions;
“E li reis corajos e proz
Responeit e diseit a toz
C’unques n’aveit oï parler
De ré qui fust neiez en mer,
N’il ne sera jà li premiers.”
This writer does not mention Southampton, Touques, Barfleur, or any
particular port.
* * * * *
The doctrine that kings were never drowned might seem to be
contradicted by the popular interpretation of the fate of the Pharaoh
of Exodus. But the text certainly does not imply that the Pharaoh
himself was drowned. On the other hand, there is somewhere the story
of an Irish king who, setting out with his fleet, was met by Noah’s
flood――conceived seemingly as something like the bore in the
Severn――and was drowned.
It is worth while comparing this story of William Rufus with the
behaviour of our next king of the same name in a case somewhat like
this, when he too was sailing from England to the land of his birth.
When William the Third was in danger in an open boat off the isle of
Goree, we read (Macaulay, Hist. Eng. iv. 2);
“The hardiest mariners showed signs of uneasiness. But
William, through the whole night, was as composed as if he
had been in the drawing-room at Kensington. ‘For shame,’ he
said to one of the dismayed sailors: ‘are you afraid to die
in my company?’”
The difference between the two speeches is characteristic. But the
parallel of Cæsar was seized on in both cases. Among the pageants when
William entered the Hague (iv. 5), when the events of his own life
were represented, this scene was shown;
“There, too, was a boat amidst the ice and the breakers; and
above it was most appropriately inscribed, in the majestic
language of Rome, the saying of the great Roman, ‘What dost
thou fear? Thou hast Cæsar on board.’”
NOTE QQ. Vol. ii. p. 289.
THE SIEGE OF MAYET.
I visited Mayet with Mr. Fowler and Mr. Parker in July, 1879, when we
examined many other of the castles and sites of castles in that
neighbourhood. But we could not pitch on the actual site of the siege
of Mayet with the same confidence with which we fixed most of the
sites of our present story. The evidence is by no means so clear as it
is in the case of most of the Cenomannian towns and fortresses. There
are in truth too many sites to choose from.
The small town of Mayet is not rich in antiquities. Its ancient church
has been, first desecrated, and then swept away. Nor is the town
itself immediately commanded by any fortress, like those of Fresnay,
Beaumont, and Ballon. But two spots lie to the east of the town which
cannot fail to have had some share in our history. A large house of
the _Renaissance_, with portions of an earlier castle worked into it,
stands at the foot of a low hill at some distance from the town, and
with a good deal of swampy ground lying between them. This boasts
itself to be the site of the fortress where the second Cenomannian
expedition of William the Red came to so strange and lame an ending.
But there are no traces of eleventh-century work remaining, and the
site itself is most unlike the site of an eleventh-century fortress.
The hill immediately above the house, far lower than Ballon or any of
its fellows, does make some feeble approach to the favourite
peninsular shape, and fancy at least has traced, amid the havoc made
by the plough, some faint signs of ditches and made ground. On the
high ground on the other side of the swamp, less completely cut off
from the town, rises a mound, of whose artificial construction and
military purpose there can be no doubt, and where ancient objects of
various kinds are said to have been found. But this mound seems far
too small to have been the site of such a stronghold as the castle of
Mayet appears in our story. Could we believe it to have been thrown up
during William’s siege, as a besieging mound, like those of which we
have so often heard, its interest as regards our story would be almost
as great as if it were the site of the head castle itself. But it
seems too far off for any purpose save that of keeping the garrison in
check; if the besieged castle stood on the opposite hill or at its
foot, the stress of the siege must have taken place at some point much
nearer to its site. The siege of Mayet is so singular a story, and so
important in the history of this war, that it is disappointing not to
be able to fix its topography with any confidence. But it is unluckily
true that he who traces out the siege of Mayet cannot do so with the
same full assurance that he is treading the true historic ground which
he feels at Ballon and Fresnay.
* * * * *
In the details of the siege I have strictly followed Orderic, save
that I have ventured to bring in the very characteristic story of
Robert of Bellême which is told by Wace. But it cannot well have had
the effect which Wace (15074) attributes to it, that of causing the
army to disperse, and so making the King raise the siege;
“Partant sunt del siège méu
A peine fussent retenu.
Li siège par treis dis failli,
Li reis si tint mal bailli
Del siège k’il ne pout tenir,
E de l’ost k’il vit despartir.
Ne pout cels de l’ost arester
Ne il n’oserent retorner;
Par veies fuient è par chans,
Dunc est li reis venu el Mans.”
The order of events in Wace is really wonderful. After Robert has gone
to the East, William Rufus reigns in peace, seemingly over Maine as
well as Normandy. Helias seizes Le Mans; the news is brought to
William; he sails to Barfleur; he recovers Le Mans (having on his road
the singular adventure described in 14998 of Pluquet’s text, 9899 of
Andresen’s); he besieges Mayet; he returns to Le Mans; he ravages the
land; Helias is taken prisoner; he is brought before the King and
released, and then William goes back to England to be shot by Walter
Tirel.
NOTE RR. Vol. ii. p. 297.
WILLIAM RUFUS AND THE TOWERS OF LE MANS CATHEDRAL.
Was the bidding of William Rufus actually carried out in this matter?
Did Bishop Hildebert pull down the towers or not? Unluckily Orderic
tells us nothing about the story, and the language of the Biographer
seems to me to be purposely obscure.
Hildebert himself mentions the matter in a passage which I quoted in
the text (p. 298), in which he complains of the horrors of a voyage to
England. He says (Duchèsne, iv. 248);
“Longum est enarrare quam constanti tyrannide rex Anglicus
in nos sævierit, qui, temperantia regis abjecta, decreverit
non prius pontifici parendum quam pontificem compelleret in
sacrilegium. Quia etenim turres ecclesiæ nostræ dejicere
nolumus,” &c.
One can make no certain inference from this, except that Hildebert was
not disposed to pull down the towers when he wrote the letter,
seemingly in England. The Biographer is fuller. I have quoted (see p.
298) the passages which describe the commands and offers of Rufus; we
then read;
“Verumtamen Hildebertus magnis undique coartabatur
angustiis, quia sibi et de regis offensione periculum, et de
turris destructione sibi et ecclesiæ suæ imminere grande
prævidebat opprobrium: propter quod a rege dilationem
petebat, donec super his consilium accepisset. Qua vix
impetrata, cernens sibi nequaquam esse utile in illis
regionibus diutius immorari, breviter ad suam reversus est
ecclesiam…. Interea præsul de præcepto regis vehementer
anxius, de urbis incendio, de domorum et omnium rerum suarum
destructione, de civium expulsione; primo tamen de
clericorum, quos violentia regis ab urbe eliminaverat,
dispersione, mæstissimus, Dei omnipotentis clementiam
jugiter precabatur, ut ab ecclesia et populo sibi commisso
iram indignationis suæ dignaretur avertere.”
He then goes on to tell how wonderfully God saved them all by the
sudden death of Rufus and the final coming of Helias. But he does not
directly say whether the towers were pulled down or not. His way of
telling the story might suggest the thought that the towers were
pulled down, but that he did not like to say so.
To my mind the appearances of the building look the same way. We have
seen that the towers of Howel were clearly at the ends of the
transepts. Of the single tower now standing at the end of the south
transept, the lower part is of the twelfth century; most likely the
work of William of Passavant (see above, p. 636). The ruined building
at the end of the other transept has columns and capitals of a much
earlier character, agreeing with the work of Howel. A base of the same
early kind as the single pair of piers spoken of in the nave (see
above, p. 638) may be the work of Howel; it may be either a relic of
Arnold’s foundations or a scrap of something much earlier. It has been
objected that this ruined building does not seem to have been a tower.
And I must allow that it must have been a tower of a somewhat unusual
kind. But the appearances are quite consistent with the notion of a
transept with aisles, and with its main body ending in an _engaged_
tower.
If these ruins are not the remains of one of Howel’s towers, his
towers must have stood nearer to the body of the church than the
existing southern tower stands, and the ruins to the north-west must
belong to the episcopal palace or some other building. If this be so,
something of the interest of the place is lost, but the argument seems
almost stronger. It would have been nothing wonderful if the later
rebuilding of the transepts had swept away all trace of the work of
the eleventh and twelfth century, so that the fabric should in no way
show whether any Romanesque towers were ever pulled down or ever
built. But it is not so. We see that a late Romanesque tower was built
to replace one of the towers of Howel, while the other, according to
this view, has vanished without trace or successor. This would seem to
point even more strongly than the other view to the belief that two
towers were built, that both were pulled down, that afterwards one was
rebuilt and the other not.
* * * * *
It is the business of the topographer of Le Mans rather than of the
historian of William Rufus to settle what the remains at the end of
the north transept are, if they are not the remains of Howel’s tower.
But it may be noticed that Howel was a considerable builder or
restorer in the adjoining palace (Vet. An. 298), and that the palace
itself had a tower hard by the church. William of Passavant (Vet. An.
373) made certain arrangements about the three chapels of the
palace――Saint David’s itself has only two――one of which is described
as “tertia altior, quæ in turri sita ecclesiam cathedralem vicinius
speculabatur.” In any case this group of buildings and ruins at the
north-east corner of Saint Julian’s is one of the most striking to be
found anywhere. There are these puzzling fragments of the days of the
counts and bishops of our story; there is the mighty eastern limb of
the present church, begun when Maine had passed away from all
fellowship with Normandy and England, when Le Mans was the city of a
Countess, widow of Richard, vassal of Philip. There is the northern
transept, begun when Maine and Normandy were wholly swallowed up by
France, finished at the very moment when Maine had again an English
lord (Recherches, p. 122). And earlier than all, there is the Roman
wall which the vast choir has overleaped, but which still remains
outside the church. And, as if to bring together the earliest and the
latest times, one of its bastions is strangely mixed up with work of
an almost English character, which seems plainly to proclaim itself as
belonging to the reign of Henry, Sixth of England and Second of
France. Truly, setting aside exceptional spots like Rome and Athens,
like Spalato and Trier and Ravenna, no city of Christendom is fuller
of lessons, alike in art and in history, than the city of Helias, the
birth-place of Henry Fitz-Empress.
NOTE SS. Vol. ii. p. 320.
THE DEATH OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
I have briefly compared the chief versions of the death of William
Rufus, and the writers from whom they come, in Appendix U. in the
fifth volume of the Norman Conquest. I will now go somewhat more fully
into the matter.
I still hold, as I held then, that no absolute certainty can be come
to as to the actor, intentional or otherwise, in the King’s death. Our
only sure statement is to be found in the vague and dark words of the
Chronicle, which look most like an intentional murder, but which do
not absolutely imply it. If Rufus was murdered, it is hopeless to seek
for any record of his murderer. We may guess for ever, and that is
all. At any rate there can be no ground for fastening a charge of
murder on Walter Tirel; for, if we except the dark hint in Geoffrey
Gaimar (see p. 325), all those who make him the doer of the deed make
it a deed done by accident. And the consent in favour of the belief
that Rufus died by an accidental shot of Walter Tirel is very general
and very weighty. It is the account of all our highest authorities,
except the very highest of all. And even with the version of the
Chronicle it does not stand in any literal contradiction. We have to
set against it Walter’s own weighty denial (see below, p. 674), and
the fact that there were other versions which named other persons. We
have also to set against it the circumstance that, if Rufus did die by
any conspiracy, never mind on whose part, it was obviously convenient
to encourage belief in such a story as the received one. (See p. 326.)
If there were anywhere English or Norman murderers, nothing could
better serve their purpose, or the purpose of any who encouraged or
sheltered them, than to attribute the deed to one who was French
rather than either English or Norman, and to describe it as accidental
on his part. And if, as one can hardly doubt, Walter Tirel was known
to have been in the King’s near company on the day of his death, he
was an obvious person to pick out for the character of the accidental
slayer.
I can therefore do nothing but leave the doubtful story to the
judgement of the reader. To that end I have given a summary of the
chief versions in the text. The account of the early part of the day,
as given by William of Malmesbury (iv. 333), which I have followed in
p. 327, fits in perfectly well with the account in Orderic (782 A),
which begins only after dinner. Nor is there any difference, except in
details of no importance, between the accounts of the King’s actual
death as given by William and by Orderic (see p. 333). In both the
King dies by a chance shot of Walter’s, but William makes the King and
Walter shoot at two different stags, while in Orderic’s version they
both shoot at the same stag. It is from William of Malmesbury that we
get the graphic detail of the King sheltering his eyes from the sun’s
rays. His whole account stands thus;
“Jam Phœbo in oceanum proclivi, rex cervo ante se
transeunti, extento nervo et emissa sagitta, non adeo sævum
vulnus inflixit; diutile adhuc fugitantem vivacitate
oculorum prosecutus, opposita contra violentiam solarium
radiorum manu. Tunc Walterius pulcrum facinus animo
parturiens, ut, rege alias interim intento, ipse alterum
cervum qui forte propter transibat prosterneret, inscius et
impotens regium pectus (Deus bone!) lethali arundine
trajecit. Saucius ille nullum verbum emisit; sed ligno
sagittæ quantum extra corpus extabat effracto, moxque supra
vulnus cadens, mortem acceleravit. Accurrit Walterius; sed,
quia nec sensum nec vocem hausit, perniciter cornipedem
insiliens, beneficio calcarium probe evasit.”
Orderic is shorter;
“Cum rex et Gualterius de Pice cum paucis sodalibus in
nemore constituti essent, et armati prædam avide
expectarent, subiter inter eos currente fera, rex de statu
suo recessit, et Gualterius sagittam emisit. Quæ super
dorsum feræ setam radens rapide volavit, atque regem e
regione stantem lethaliter vulneravit. Qui mox ad terram
cecidit, et sine mora, proh dolor! expiravit.”
Florence really adds nothing to the account in the Chronicle, except
so far that he adds the name of Walter Tirel. He brings in the event
with some chronological pomp, but he cuts the actual death of the King
short. He is in a moralizing fit, and takes up his parable at much
greater length than is usual with him;
“Deinde iv. non. Augusti, feria v., indictione viii., rex
Anglorum Willelmus junior, dum in Nova Foresta, quæ lingua
Anglorum Ytene nuncupatur, venatu esset occupatus, a quodam
Franco, Waltero cognomento Tirello, sagitta incaute directa
percussus, vitam finivit, et Wintoniam delatus, in veteri
monasterio, in ecclesia S. Petri est tumulatus. Nec mirum,
ut populi rumor affirmat, hanc proculdubio magnam Dei
virtutem esse et vindictam.”
He then goes on with a great deal of matter, much of which I have
referred to in various places. He speaks of the making of the New
Forest, of the death of young Richard, the natural phænomena of the
reign, the recent appearances of the devil, and the iniquities of
Randolf Flambard. It is here that he notices (see p. 335) that a
church had once stood on the spot where the King died. Henry of
Huntingdon too brings in the event with some stateliness, as the last
act of a great drama. But he gives no special details, beyond bringing
in, like Orderic, Florence, and William, the name of Walter Tirel;
“Millesimo centesimo anno, rex Willelmus xiii. regni sui
anno, vitam crudelem misero fine terminavit. Namque cum
gloriose et patrio honore curiam tenuisset ad Natale apud
Glouecestre, ad Pascha apud Wincestre, ad Pentecosten apud
Londoniam, ivit venatum in Novo foresto in crastino kalendas
Augusti, ubi Walterus Tyrel cum sagitta cervo intendens,
regem percussit inscius. Rex corde ictus corruit, nec verbum
edidit.”
He then goes on to describe at length the evils of the reign, partly
in his own words, partly in those of the Chronicle, and records what
followed in a kind of breathless haste, keeping the Chronicle before
him, but giving things a turn of his own;
“Sepultus est in crastino perditionis suæ apud Wincestre, et
Henricus ibidem in regem electus, dedit episcopatum
Wincestriæ Willelmo Giffard, pergensque Londoniam sacratus
est ibi a Mauricio Londoniensi episcopo, melioratione legum
et consuetudinum optabili repromissa.”
The object of piling facts on one another in this fashion is to bring
the record of Henry’s promised reforms as near as may be to the
picture of the evil doings of Rufus.
By the time that Wace wrote, there were several stories to be chosen
from. The King gives arrows to his companions, and specially to Walter
Tirel. They go out to hunt in the morning, contrary to the accounts
both of Orderic and of William of Malmesbury (15164 Pluquet, 10069
Andresen);
“A un matin qu’il fu leuez,
Ses compaignons a demandez,
A toz a saetes donees,
Que li esteient presentees.
Gaulter Tirel, un cheualier
Qui en la cort esteit mult chier,
Une saete del rei prist
Donc il l’ocist si com l’en dist.”
He distinctly says that he does not know who shot the arrow, but that
it was commonly said to be Walter Tirel, with some of the variations
in detail which we have already seen, as for instance whether the
arrow glanced from a tree or not;
“Ne sai qui traist ne qui laissa,
Ne qui feri, ne qui bersa,
Mais co dist l’en, ne sai sel fist,
Que Tirel traist, le rei ocist.
Plusors dient qu’il trebucha,
En sa cote s’empeecha,
E sa saete trestorna
E al chaeir el rei cola.
Alquanz dient que Tirel uolt
Ferir un cerf qui trespassout.
Entre lui e le rei coreit:
Cil traist qui entese aueit;
Mais la saete glaceia,
La fleche a un arbre freia,
E la saete trauersa,
Le rei feri, mort le rua.
E Gauter Tirel fost corut
La ou li reis chai e iut.”
The other French rimers are this time, though certainly less
trustworthy than Wace, of more importance in one way, as showing that
there was in some quarters, as there well might be in Normandy, a more
charitable feeling towards the Red King than we find in the English
writers. I have given in the text the substance of the accounts of
Geoffrey Gaimar and Benoît de Sainte-More. The version of Geoffrey
Gaimar (Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 54) I do not remember to have
ever seen referred to, except in M. Michel’s note to Benoît. It is so
curious in its details that it is worth giving at length. It is
absolutely impossible to believe it in the teeth of opposite
statements of so much higher authority, yet it is strange if all its
graphic touches are a mere play of fancy;
“En la foreste estoit li rois,
En l’espesse, juste un maroi.
Talent li prist d’un cerf berser
Qu’en une herde vist aler,
Dejuste une arbre est descendu,
Il méisme ad son arc tendu.
Partut descendent li baron,
Li autre ensement d’environ.
Wauter Tirel est descenduz;
Trop près de roi, lez un sambuz,
Après un tremble s’adossa.
Si cum la herde trespassa
Et le grant cerf a mes li vint,
Entesa l’arc qu’en sa main tint,
Une seete barbelée
Ad tret par male destinée.
Jà avint si qu’au cerf faillit
De ci qu’au queor le roi férit.
Une seete au queor li vint
Mès ne savom qi l’arc sustint;
Mès ceo distrent li autre archer
Qu’ele eissi del arc Wauter.
Semblant en fut, car tost fuit;
Il eschapa. Li rois chéit,
Par iij. foiz s’est escriez,
Le corps diũ a demandez;
Mès n’i fut qui le li donast,
Loingnz fut del mouster en un wast;
Et nequedent un venéour
Prist des herbes od tut la flour,
Un poi en fist au roi manger,
Issi le quida acomunier.
En Dieu est ço et estre doit:
Il avoit pris pain bénoit
Le dimenge de devant:
Ceo li deit estre bon garant.”
Geoffrey, it should be noticed, has nothing to say about dreams and
warnings; the _gab_ between the King and Walter Tirel seems in his
version to take their place (see p. 322). But in the other account
which deals kindly with Rufus, that of Benoît de Sainte-More (see p.
332), the warning dream, in this case assigned to the King himself,
plays an important part. So also does Gundulf, the expounder of the
dream. His presence is thus explained (40523);
“Veirs est e chose coneue
C’une haors avoit eue
Od l’evesque de Rovecestre,
Qui chapelains est e deit estre
L’arcevesque de Cantorbire:
E por c’ert vers le rei en ire
Que _Saint Anseaume_ aveit chacié
E fors de la terre essilié.
Cil evesque de Rovecestre
Ert à lui venuz à Wincestre
Por pais requerre e demander,
Mais ne la poeit pas trover;
E li bons hom plein de pitié
Out mult Nostre-Seignor preié
Que de cele grant mesestance
Eust e cure e remembrance.”
We may note that Anselm, not yet canonized, is already called _saint_
in a formal way.
The King is to hunt the next day in the New Forest; in the night he
has the dream, which is told with a singular variation. He first sees
the dead body of a stag on the altar; then it changes into that of a
man (40560);
“Quant il regardout sor l’autel,
Si i veeit, ce li ert vis,
Un mult grant cerf qui ert ocis,
Por eschiver le grant renei
Que il voleit faire de sei,
Alout e si ’n voleit manger;
Kar c’erent tuit si desirer.
La où il i tendeit la main,
Si li ert vis s’ert bien certain,
Que c’ert cors d’ome apertement
Ocis e nafré et sanglent.”
Gundulf, “li evesques, li sainz hom,” then preaches a sermon of some
length, which the King listens to with unexpected docility; he
promises amendment of life, and receives absolution;
“Simple e od bone volunté
Out li reis en pais esculté,
Bien sont e conut la raison
De cele interpretation,
Assez pramist amendement
Donc de sa vie doucement
Al saint evesque a pardoné
Tote sa male volonté
Quant sa grace out e son congé.
Mult s’en torna joios e lié.”
In this version there is no special mention of Anselm and the synod;
the exhortation of Gundulf is quite general. In the account given by
Giraldus (De Inst. Prin. p. 174)――who, it must be borne in mind, has
two dreams, one dreamed by the King, and another by a premature canon
of Dunstable――this is strongly brought out. The bishop, whose name is
not given, exhorts the King at much less length than Gundulf does in
the rimes of Benoît, and the promise of reformation stands thus;
“Cum episcopus consilium ei daret quatenus, convocatis
illico episcopis regni sui et clero universo, eorundem
consilio se Domino per omnia conciliaret, missisque statim
nuntiis venerabilem sanctumque virum Anselmum Cantuariensem
archiepiscopum, quem ea tempestate, quod libertates ecclesiæ
tueri volebat, exulare compulerat, ab exilio revocaret,
respondens rex se cum regni sui proceribus consilium inde in
brevi habiturum.”
In Benoît’s version the King’s companions now urge him to go out to
hunt. The description is very graphic;
“E si vaslet furent hoesé
E en lor chaceors munté,
Les arcs ès mains, gamiz e presz,
E detrès eus lor bons brachez;
Abaient chens e sonent corns,
Monté atendent le rei fors.”
He refuses for a while, and sets forth his troubled mind with some
pathos;
“Avoi! fait-il, seignors, avoi!
Uncor sui-je plus maus assez
E plus cent tant que vos ne quidez;
Mais c’est la fin, remis m’en sui,
Que je n’irai mais en bois ui.
Ne voil por rien qu’alé i seie
Ne que jamais la forest veie.”
He goes forth, and, as I have said in the text (p. 332), is shot by
the arrow glancing from a tree. Benoît knew through what agency;
“Mais tant li mostre li reis Ros
Que c’il r’a d’aïr entesée
Une sajette barbelée,
E deiables tant l’a conveié[e]
Qu’à un gros raim fiert e glaceie.
Le rei feri delez le quor.”
His speech to his accidental slayer is most pious;
“Va-t’en, fui-tei senz demorer,
Kar mort m’as par ma grant enfance.
Ci a Deus pris de mei venjance:
Or li cri merci e soplei
Qu’il ait oi merci de mei
Par sa sainte chere douçor,
Kar mult sui vers lui peccheor.”
In the earlier of Giraldus’ two stories, one which has much in common
with this of Benoît, the arrow strikes the King accidentally, but
there is nothing about its glancing from a tree. As he looks on
William Rufus as the maker of the New Forest, he describes his going
forth to hunt there with some solemnity;
“Protinus contra dissuasionem in prædictam forestam, ubi tot
ecclesias destituerat, totosque fideles qui glebæ ibidem ab
antiquo ascripti fuerant immisericorditer exheredaverat,
venatum ivit. Nec mora, soluta per interemptionem
contentione ubi deliquit, casuali cujusdam suorum ictu
sagittæ letaliter percussus decubuit; miles enim directo in
feram telo, nutu divino cælum pariter et telum regente, non
feram eo sed ferum et absque modo ferocem, transpenetravit.”
(Cf. the extracts in p. 337.)
Having got thus far, pretty nearly in Benoît’s company, Giraldus goes
on to tell his other story which brings in the Prior of Dunstable. But
Dunstable, in its own Annals, did not claim an earlier founder than
Henry the First. We are therefore left to guess as to the origin of a
story which speaks of the priory of Dunstable as already existing in
the time of Rufus, and even as enjoying exceptional favour at his
hands. The “miles quidam” of the former story here becomes Ralph of
Aix, who is brought in after much the same fashion in which Walter
Tirel is in those versions of the story which mention him.
* * * * *
These are the chief varieties in the story of the death of Rufus; but
the tale is so famous, it has taken such a hold on popular imagination
from that day to our own, that it may be well to do as we have done in
some earlier cases, and to trace some of the forms which the story
took in the hands of writers of later times.
The Hyde writer (302), who always has notions of his own about all
matters, has nothing special to tell us about the death of
Rufus――“Norman-Anglorum rex Willelmus,” in his odd style――but the
story of the dream takes a new shape. A monk in Normandy, in extreme
sickness, sees the usual vision of the Lord and the suppliant woman,
here called less reverentially “puella vultu sole speciosior,” who
complains of the evil doings of Rufus and asks for vengeance
(“celerrimam de eo expetiit vindictam, asserens se a canibus ejus et
lupis potius quam ministris diu esse laniatam”). He has a further
dream about the sins of his own abbot, whom he rebukes, and causes a
letter to be sent to the King. The King mocks, but less pithily and
characteristically than he does in Orderic (“Quicumque sorti vel
somniis crediderit, sicut semper vivet suspiciosus et inquietus, ita
semper revertitur”). On this manifestation of unbelief follows the
judgement (“Deus Omnipotens telum quod diu vibraverat misericorditer,
tandem super regem projecit terribiliter”). He is shot casually in his
hunting (“venatum pergens, _venatus est_, et ex improviso sagitta
percussus;”――where surely “venatus est” is meant to be passive). He
dies without confession or communion; he is buried, and Henry reigns
in his stead. Then, as a kind of after-thought, comes in the mention
of Walter Tirel;
“Fertur autem quod eodem die venatum pergenti obtulit munus
sagittarum quidam adveniens, quarum unam Waltero Tirello
viro Ponteiensi in munere dedit secumque venire coegit.
Denique silvam ingressi, dum gregem bestiarum accingunt et
invicem trahunt, eadem sagitta, idem Walterus regem vicinus,
ut aiunt, percussit et subito extinxit.”
The author of the “Brevis Relatio” (Giles, 11) cuts the actual death
of Rufus very short, and mentions no particular actor, but he connects
it in a somewhat singular way with the presence of Henry;
“Contigit vero postea ut Robertus comes Normanniæ
Hierosolymam iret, totamque Normanniam fratri suo Willelmo
regi Anglorum invadiaret, et tunc Henricus fratri suo omnino
se conferret atque cum eo ex toto remaneret. Dum itaque cum
eo esset post aliquantum temporis contigit ut quadam die rex
Willelmus venatum iret, ibique, nescio quo judicio Dei, a
quodam milite sagitta percussus occumberet. Quem statim
frater suus Henricus Wintoniam referri fecit, ibique in
ecclesia Sancti Petri ante majus altare sepulturæ tradidit.”
The introduction of Henry in the former part of the extract is the
more remarkable, because the writer has either copied the account
given by Robert of Torigny in the Continuation of William of Jumièges
(viii. 9), or else he has borrowed from the same source. Robert’s
words are;
“Igitur, sicut supra diximus, cum Robertus dux Normannorum
anno ab incarnatione Domini mxcvi, Hierusalem perrexisset,
et ducatum Normanniæ Willelmo fratri suo regi Anglorum
invadiasset: contigit post aliquantum temporis, ut idem rex
quadam die venatum iret in Novam forestam, ubi iv. nonas
Augusti missa sagitta incaute a quodam suo familiari in
corde percussus, mortuus est anno ab incarnatione Domini mc.
regni autem sui xiii…. Occiso itaque Willelmo rege, ut
præmisimus, statim frater suus Henricus corpus ejus
Wintoniam deferri fecit ibique in ecclesia sancti Petri ante
majus altare sepulturæ tradidit.”
The words which I have left out record the death of the elder Richard,
the son of the Conqueror, in the New Forest――the younger Richard, the
son of Robert, is not mentioned――and the belief that the deaths of the
two brothers were the punishment of the destruction of houses and
churches done by their father. One phrase is remarkable; “Multas
villas et ecclesias _propter eandem forestam amplificandam_ in
circuitu ipsius destruxerat.” Here is nothing about Walter Tirel or
any one else by name, and this is the more to be noticed, because in
his own Chronicle, where he seems to have had before him the account
of Henry of Huntingdon, who mentions Walter Tirel, he leaves out the
name. Henry’s words are; “Ivit venatum in Novo foresto in crastino
kalendas Augusti, ubi Walterus Tyrel cum sagitta cervo intendens,
regem percussit inscius. Rex corde ictus corruit, nec verbum edidit.”
This in Robert’s version becomes “Willelmus rex Anglorum in Nova
Foresta, sibi multum dilecta, cum sagitta incaute cervo intenderetur,
in corde percussus interiit, nec verbum edidit.” He then goes on to
copy part of Henry of Huntingdon’s description of the doings of Rufus
somewhat further on.
Among the monastic chroniclers and annalists, the History of Abingdon
(ii. 43) seems to see in the Red King’s death a judgement on him for
some dealings connected with the lands of that abbey. A man described
as Hugo de Dun had, by the help of the Count of Meulan (“Comitis
Mellentis Rotberti senioris ope adjutus”), got into his hands some
lands of the abbey at Leckhampsted, as had also the better known Hugh
of Buckland, Sheriff of Berkshire (“eo quod et Berchescire vicecomes
et publicarum justiciarius compellationum a rege constitutus
existeret”). The writer then goes on;
“Quadam itaque die rex Willelmus dum cibatus venatum
exerceret, suorum unus militum, quasi ad cervum sagittam
emittens, regem e contra stantem sibique non caventem eadem
sagitta in corde percussit. Qui mox ad terram corruens
exspiravit.”
The legend received at Saint Alban’s (Gesta Abbatum, i. 65) seems to
have rolled together the dream of the monk at Gloucester and the
revelation of William’s death to the abbot of Clugny (see p. 343).
Anselm at Clugny has a vision in which many of the saints of England
bring their complaints against King William before the tribunal of
God. Then the story takes a local turn;
“Iratus Altissimus respondit,――Accede, Anglorum protomartyr.
Et accedente Albano, tradidit Deus sagittam ardentem,
dicens; vindica te, et omnes sanctos Angliæ, læsos a
tyranno. Accipiens autem Albanus sagittam de manu Domini,
projecit eam in terram, quasi faculam, dicens; Accipe,
Satan, potestatem in ipsum Willelmum tyrannum. Et eadem die,
mane, obiit rex transverberatus per medium pectoris sagitta.
Dixit autem arcitenenti, Trahe, diabole. Erat tunc temporis,
episcopo Wolstano defuncto, episcopatus Wygorniæ nimis
afflictus sub manu regis, et multæ aliæ ecclesiæ, sedente
tunc Paschali papa.”
I do not know why the Saint Alban’s writer should have specially
mentioned the church of Worcester, which certainly had a Bishop (see
vol. i. p. 542) at the time of William’s death. But neither should I
at p. 43 of this volume have mentioned Saint Alban’s among the
churches vacant at that time. For the four years’ vacancy which
followed the death of Paul was ended in 1097 by the election of
Richard. “Determinata lite quæ in conventu exorta fuerat inter
Normannos, qui jam multiplicati invaluerunt, et Anglos, qui, jam
senescentes et imminuti, occubuerant” (Gest. Abb. i. 66). Here is a
glimpse of the internal state of the convent which would be most
precious if it came from a writer of the year 1097, but which must be
taken for what it may be worth in the mouth of Matthew Paris or one
whom he followed. This abbot Richard was on good terms with Rufus as
well as with his successor (“Willelmi Secundi et Henrici Primi regum,
amicitia familiari fultus, multos honores et possessiones adeptus est,
et adeptas viriliter tuebatur”). Presently we get a second shorter
entry of the Red King’s death;
“Tempore quoque hujus abbatis Ricardi, Willelmus rex――immo
tyrannus――ultione divina, obiit sagittatus.”
The Winchester Annals which really should, just as much as the Hyde
writer, have given us something original at such a moment, have
nothing more to tell us than that “hoc anno rex a sagitta perforates
est in Nova Foresta a Waltero Tirel et sepultus in ecclesia Sancti
Swithuni Wintoniæ.” The Margam Annals merely mark that “hoc anno
interfectus est rex Angliæ Willelmus junior, rex Rufus vulgo vocatus,
non. Augusti, anno regni sui xiii. cum esset annorum plus xl.” This
reckoning falls in with what I said in vol. i. p. 141, and N. C. vol.
iii. p. 111. Dunstable, which is so strangely dragged into the tale by
Giraldus, and Bermondsey, which has some special things to record
during the reign, have nothing fresh to tell us, only Dunstable
mentions Walter Tirel and Bermondsey does not. Osney and Worcester
merely copy the usual story. Thomas Wykes has been quoted already.
Roger of Hoveden simply copies Florence. Ralph the Black and Roger of
Wendover at least give a little variety by copying the account in
William of Malmesbury. It is not till we get to the English and French
rimers, Robert of Gloucester and Peter Langtoft, that we come to
anything worthy of much notice or anything showing any imagination.
Robert of Gloucester tells the story of the dream, attributing it to a
monk, but not saying of what monastery. The appearance on the altar
loses perhaps somewhat of its awfulness when it is made into the
ordinary rood of the church.
“Þat þe kẏng eode into a chẏrche, as fers man and wod,
And wel hokerlẏche bẏ held þe folc þat þere stod.
To þe rode he sturte, and bẏgan to frete and gnawe
Þe armes vaste, and þẏes mẏd hẏs teþ to drawe.
Þe rode ẏt þolede long, ac suþþe atte laste
He pulte hẏm wẏt vot, and adoun vp rẏgt hẏm caste.”
This is surely no improvement on the older version of the story.
Robert does not forget the bodily appearances of the devil recorded by
Florence, but at his distance of time he does not draw the national
distinction which the earlier writer drew;
“Vor þe Deuel was þer byuore þer aboute ẏseẏe
In fourme of bodẏ, and spec al so mẏd men of þe countreẏe.”
He then goes on to tell the story, clearly after William of
Malmesbury, but everywhere with touches of his own. They have the
interest of being in any case the earliest detailed account, true or
false, of the story in our own tongue. Thus the account of the King’s
not going to hunt before dinner takes this shape;
“So þat þe kẏng was adrad and bẏleuede vor such cas
To wende er non an honteþ, þe wule he vastyng was.
Ac after mete, þo he adde ẏete and ẏdronke wel,
He nom on of hẏs priues, þat het Water Tẏrel,
And a uewe oþere of hẏs men, and nolde non lenger abẏde,
Þat he nolde to hẏs game, tẏde wat so bẏtẏde.”
The actual account of his death stands thus;
“He prẏkede after vaste ẏnou toward þe West rẏgt.
Hẏs honden he huld byuore hẏs eẏn vor þe sonne lẏgt.
So þat þẏs Water Tẏrel, þat þer bysẏde was neẏ,
Wolde ssete anoþer hert, þat, as he sede, he seẏ.
He sset þe kẏng in atte breste, þat neuer eft he ne speke,
Bote þe ssaft, þat was wẏþoute, grẏslẏch he to brec,
And anowarde hẏs wombe vel adoun, and deẏde without spech,
Wẏþoute ssrẏft and hosel, anon þer was Gode’s wreche.
Þo Water Tẏrel ẏseẏ, þat he was ded, anon
He atornde, as vaste as he mẏgte, þat was hẏs best won.”
Peter of Langtoft (i. 446) has some touches of his own. Among other
things, the days of the week have got wrong, in order to bring in a
precept as to the proper observance of the weekly fast-day. We also
get a purely imaginary Bishop of Winchester;
“Par un Jovedy à vespre le ray ala cocher
En la Nove Forest, où devayt veneyer.
Si tost fu endormy, comença sounger
K’il fust en sa chapele, soul saunz esquyer,
Les us furent fermés k’yl ne pout passer;
Si graunt faym avayt, ke l’estout manger,
Ou mourir de faym, ou tost arager.
Il n’ad payn ne char, ne pessoun de mer;
Il prent et devoure le ymage sur le auter,
La Marye et le fiz, saunz rens là lesser.
Al matyn, kaunt il leve, le eveske fet maunder,
Ode de Wyncestre, et ly va counter
Tut cum ly avynt en sun somoyller.
Le eveske ly dist, ‘Sir rays, Deus est rays saunz per;
Tu l’as coroucez, te covent amender
Par penaunce, et desore plus sovent amer.
Par Vendredy en boys ne devez mes chacer,
Ne à la ryvere of faucoun chuvaucher;
Tel est ta penaunce, et tu le days garder.’
Le eveske ad pris congé, et vait à sun maner;
Après la messe oye, ala le rays juer,
Sa penaunce oblye, fet maunder ly archer,
Walter Tirel i fust, ke set del mister,
Ad sun tristre vayt, la beste va wayter,
Un cerf hors de l’herd comença launcer;
Et ly Frauncays Tyrel se pressayt à seter,
Quide ferir la beste, et fert le rays al quer
Kaunt le eveske l’oyt dire, fist trop mourne cher.
Le cors à, Wyncestre fist le eveske porter,
Et mettre en toumbe al mouster saynt Per.
[Prioms qe sire Dieu pardoun li voile doner.]”
This last line, fittingly according to the belief of William’s own
time, is wanting in some manuscripts.
From the writer known as Bromton we might have looked for some new
form of the legend, but he gives us (X Scriptt. 996) only the usual
story about Walter Tirel, with a rhetorical character of William and
an account of his evil doings. One or two expressions however are
remarkable;
“In quodam loco ubi priscis temporibus ecclesia fuerat
constructa, et tempore patris sui cum multis aliis
ecclesiis, et quatuor domibus religiosis, et tota illa
patria in solitudinem redacta, vitam crudelem fine miserrimo
terminavit. Jure autem in medio injustitiæ suæ inter feras
occiditur, qui ultra modum inter homines ferus erat. Nam
stabilitis contra malefactores silvarum, forestarum, et
venationis, legibus duris, zelotepia sua agente, custos
boscorum et ferarum pastor communiter vocabatur.”
To Knighton’s curious account I have referred already (see p. 333).
But he tells the story twice. His first version (X Scriptt. 2372)
contains nothing remarkable; the second (2373) is quite worth notice.
He attributes to Rufus the making of the New Forest, which he
describes in words which are not, as far as one can see, copied from
any of the usual sources. He enforced the forest laws with great
harshness, “quod pro dama hominem suspenderet, pro lepore xx._s._
plecteretur, pro cuniculo x._s._ daret.” Then the last scene is
brought in with some solemnity; but the age which he assigns to the
Red King is quite impossible;
“Igitur, ut ante dictum est, iii. nonarum Augusti, per
Cistrensem [sic] anno gratiæ MC. regni sui xiii. ætatis
liii. venit in novum herbarium suum, scilicet novam
forestam, cum multa familia stipatus, venandi gratia set
sibi gratia dura. Cum arcubus et canibus stetit in loco suo,
et quidam miles sibi nimis familiaris Walterus Tyrel nomine,
prope eum ex opposito loco, ut moris est venantium,
cæterique sparsim unusquisque cum arcu et sagitta in manu
expecteoli [sic] pro præda capienda. Interea accidit miræ
magnitudinis cervum præ cæteris præstantiorem regi
appropinquare, videlicet inter regem et dictum militem, at
rex tetendit arcum volens emittere sagittam, credens se
interficere cervum, set, fracta corda in arcu regis, cervus,
de sonitu quasi attonitus, restitit circumcirca respiciens,
et inde rex aliqualiter motus dixit militi ut cervum
sagittaret. Miles vero se sustinuit. At rex objurganter cum
magno impetu præcepit ei, dicens, ‘Trahe, trahe, arcum ex
parte diaboli, et extendas sagittam, alias te pœnitebit,’ At
ille emisit sagittam, volens interficere cervum, percussit
regem per medium cordis, et occidit eum, ibidemque
expiravit. Walterus evasit, nemine insequente. Rex vero
vehitur apud Wyntoniam super redam caballariam impositus. In
cujus sepultura luctus defuit. Omnes gaudium de ejus morte
arripiunt, adeo quod vix erat quispiam qui lacrimam
emiserit, sed omnes de morte ejus lætati sunt.”
This is well told; but how much more men knew about the matter at the
end of the fourteenth century than they did in the last year of the
eleventh.
* * * * *
To turn to foreign writers, the Annales Cambriæ say simply that
“Willelmus rex Angliæ, a quodam milite suo cervum petente sagitta
percussus, interiit”――or, in another manuscript, “Willelmus rex
Anglorum, _improviso ictu_ sagittæ a quodam milite in venatu
occubuit.” The difference is to be noted. The Brut records the death
of William the Red, King of the Saxons (Gẃilim Goch, brenhin y
Saeson), and says that “as he was on a certain day hunting, along with
Henry, his youngest brother, accompanied by some of his knights, he
was wounded with an arrow by Walter Tyrell, a knight of his own, who,
unwittingly, as he was shooting at a stag, hit the king and killed
him.”
The Annales Blandinienses in Pertz, v. 27, record how “secundus
Willelmus rex Anglorum in venatione ab uno milite suo ex improvisu
sagitta vulneratus obiit; cui successit Henricus frater suus.” The
Saint Denis History (Pertz, ix. 405) has a further touch; “Willelmus
Rufus, rex Anglorum, venationi intentus sagitta incaute emissa
occiditur. Cui Henricus frater ejus _velocissime successit_, ne
impediretur a Roberto fratre suo, jam de Hierosolimitana expeditione
reverso.” Another writer in the same volume (ix. 392), Hugh of Fleury,
has a remarkable account, quite in the spirit of the English writers,
but seemingly not directly copied from any of them;
“Rex Anglorum Guillelmus, magnifici regis Guillelmi
successor et filius, dum venationem exercet in silva quæ
adjacet Vindoniæ urbi, a quodam milite sagitta percussus
interiit. Ille tamen miles qui sagittam jecit illum
inscientem percussit. Cervam quippe sagittare parabat, sed
sagitta retrorsum acta regem insperate percussit, et illum
inopinabiliter interemit. Quod divino nutu contigisse non
dubium est. Erat enim rex ille armis quidem strenuus atque
munificus, sed nimis lasciviens et flagitiosus. Verum
antequam interiret, magnis sibi signis præostensis, si
voluisset, corrigi debuisset. Nam dum sibi subitus, peccatis
suis exigentibus, immineret interitus, in eadem insula in
qua manebat sanguinis unda fœtida per spatium unius diei
emanavit, _ipso præsente_, quod dicebatur ejus portendere
mortem. Ipso etiam tempore apparuerunt alia signa stupenda
in eadem insula, quibus, sicut jam dictum est, terreri et
vitam suam corrigere debuisset. Quæ juventa stolidus et
honore superbus contempsit, et semper incorrigibilis mansit.
Unde Dei justo judicio subite et intempestiva morte
preventus occubuit. Cui successit frater ejus junior
Henricus, vir sapiens atque modestus.”
Hugh of Flavigny, whom we have already had often to quote, adds
(Pertz, viii. 495) one detail which I do not think appears elsewhere.
The King goes to see the well which sent up blood (the event is
wrongly put under 1099);
“Anno inc. dom. 1099 obiit Urbanus papa, successit
Paschalis. Obiit etiam Willelmus junior rex Anglorum. Quo
etiam anno in Anglia fons verum sanguinem olidum et putentem
manare visus est. Ad quod spectaculum cum fere tota insula
cucurrisset, insolita rei novitate stupefacta, rex præfatus
advenit et vidit, nec tamen ei profuit vidisse. Autumabat
vulgus promiscuum portentum istud mortem regis portendere,
quod etiam ei dicebatur a referentibus; sed homo secularis
et in quem timor Dei non ceciderat, voluptatibus carnis et
superbiæ deditus, divinorum præceptorum contemptor et
adversarius, qui tamen satis regii fuisset animi, si non
Deum postposuisset fastu regni inflatus, nec cogitabat se
moriturum.”
He carries on this vein a little further, and then gives the account
of his death;
“Quia Deum deseruit, sanctam ecclesiam opprimens et eam sibi
ancillari constituens, a Deo quoque derelictus est; in silva
quæ adjacet Wintoniæ civitati, dum venationem exercet,
sagitta a quodam percussus, quo lethali vulnere decidit et
exanimatus est, pœnitentia et communione carens, et apud
eamdem urbem sepultus.”
The Angevin chroniclers record the death of Rufus without comment or
detail. The Biographer of the Bishops of Le Mans (Vet. An. 309), who
looks at the matter chiefly with reference to Bishop Hildebert,
moralizes at some length; but his statement of fact is no more than
this;
“Dum quadam die in silvam venandi gratia perrexisset, ab uno
ex militibus qui secum ierant sagitta percussus, interiit.”
This is really hardly more than the few words of the English
Chronicler. Alberic of Trois Fontaines, from whom we might have looked
for something, merely copies William of Malmesbury and others. Gervase
of Tilbury (ii. 20, Leibnitz, i. 945) mentions another agent in the
death-blow;
“Defuncto patre successit Guillelmus _primogenius_ in
regnum, vir impius, ecclesiarum persecutor, immisericors
circa imbelles, qui archiepiscopum Cantuariensem plurimum
persecutus, _ab angelo percutiente peremtus_, Guintoniæ
sepultus est, sub infamiæ perpetuo monumento.”
* * * * *
As for Walter Tirel, he has his place in ordinary memory so thoroughly
as the slayer of William Rufus and as nothing else, that it is rather
hard to take in that his position as the slayer of William Rufus is
very doubtful, while there are undoubted, though meagre, notices of
him in other characters. We have already seen him entertaining Anselm
in one of his Picard dwellings. The fullest account of his family
comes from Orderic, who, when he is commenting on the laxity of the
Norman clergy and bishops in his time, gives us the story of Walter’s
father (574 D). Dean Fulk was a pupil of Bishop Ivo of Chartres, and
inherited a knight’s fee from his father. Then we read how “illius
temporis ritu, nobilem sociam nomine Orieldem habuit, ex qua copiosam
prolem generavit.” Walter was one of a family of ten, seemingly the
youngest of eight sons. He was “cognomento Tirellus,” clearly a
personal and not a hereditary or local surname.
If the Dean of Evreux kept proper residence, his son would be Norman
_natione_, whatever he was _genere_; but most accounts of Walter
connect him with France rather than with Normandy. Abbot Suger, who
knew him personally, speaks of him (Duchèsne, iv. 283 C) as
“nobilissimus vir Galterius Tirellus.” In Florence (1100) he is simply
“quidam Francus, Walterus cognomento Tirellus.” William of Malmesbury
(iv. 333) says that, on the day of the King’s death, he was “paucis
comitatus, quorum familiarissimus erat Walterius cognomento Tirel, qui
de Francia, liberalitate regis adductus, venerat.” His possession of
Poix appears from Orderic, 782 A, where he is described as “de Francia
miles generosus, Picis et Pontisariæ dives oppidanus, potens inter
optimates et in armis acerrimus; ideo regi familiaris conviva et
ubique comes assiduus.” Walter Map (De Nugis Cur. 222) calls him
“miles Achaza juxta Pontissaram Franciæ,” which I suppose means
Achères. (But in Orderic, 723 B, we have another Walter and also a
Peter brought into connexion with Achères.) Walter’s connexion with
that district suggests that the King had bought him over to his side,
or had taken him prisoner during the campaign in the Vexin. Geoffrey
Gaimar (Chron. Anglo-Norm. i. 51) dwells on his possession of Poix;
“Wauter estoit un riches hom,
De France ert per del région.
Piez estoit soen un fort chastel,
Assez avoir de son avel.
Au roi estoit venu servir
Douns et soudées recoverir,
Per grant cherté ert recuilliz,
Assez ert bien del roi chériz.
_Pur ceo q’estranges homs estoit,
Le gentil roi le chérissoit._”
His marriage comes from Orderic (783 A); “Adelidam filiam Ricardi de
sublimi prosapia Gifardorum conjugem habuit, quæ Hugonem de Pice,
strenuissimum militem, marito suo peperit.”
The question now comes whether Walter Tirel appears in Domesday. There
is in Essex (41) an entry, “Laingaham tenet Walterus Tirelde. R. quod
tenuit Phin dacus pro ii. hidis et dimidia et pro uno manerio.” This
comes among the estates of Richard of Clare, and I suppose that “R.”
in the entry should be “de R.” as in several others. If this be our
Walter Tirel, his estate was not very great, and he did not hold as a
tenant-in-chief. One cannot make much out of the extract from an
East-Saxon county history in Ellis, ii. 394. Lappenberg (ii. 207) has
more to say about this entry and other bearers of the name of Tirel.
It cannot much matter that “der Name Tirrel ist in der Liste der
Krieger zu Battle Abbey.” It is of more importance when he refers to
the Pipe Roll of Henry (56), where we read, “Adeliz uxor Walteri
Tirelli reddit compotum de x. marcis argenti de eisdem placitis de La
Wingeham.” This comes in Essex, and I suppose that the “Laingaham” of
Domesday and the “La Wingeham” of the Pipe Roll are the same place. If
so, the two entries, combined with the notice in Orderic, look very
much as if they all belong to one Walter and one Adelaide. If this be
so, Walter Tirel was a landowner in England, though on no great scale;
and whatever was his own case, his wife or widow was living and
holding his land in 1131.
Walter’s denial of any share in the King’s death comes from the
personal knowledge of Abbot Suger (Duchèsne, iv. 283); “Imponebatur a
quibusdam cuidam nobilissimo viro Galterio Tirello, quod eum sagitta
perfoderat. Quem cum nec timeret, nec speraret, jurejurando sæpius
audivimus, et quasi sacrosanctum asserere, quod ea die nec in eam
partem silvæ in qua rex venabatur, venerit, nec eum in silva omnino
viderit.”
John of Salisbury in his Life of Anselm, c. xii (Giles, v. 341),
refers to this denial on the part of Walter. He speaks of the fate of
Julian, likening Anselm to Basil, and goes on; “Quis alterutrum
miserit telum, adhuc incertum est quidem. Nam Walterus Tyrrellus ille,
qui regiæ necis reus a plurimis dictus est, eo quod illi familiaris
erat et tunc in indagine ferarum vicinus, et fere singulariter
adhærebat, etiam quum ageret in extremis, se a cæde illius immunem
esse, invocato in animam suam Dei judicio, protestatus est. Fuerunt
plurimi, _qui ipsum regem jaculum quo interemptus est misisse
asserunt_; et hoc Walterus ille, etsi non crederetur ei, constanter
asserebat.” He adds a comment which might be taken in two senses; “Et
profecto quisquis hoc fecerit, Dei ecclesiæ suæ calamitatibus
compatientis dispositioni fideliter obedivit.”
The very confused story which makes William Rufus the maker of the New
Forest, and Walter Tirel the adviser of the deed, comes from Walter
Map’s account (De Nugis, 222) of the death of William Rufus, where a
good many things are brought close together; “Willielmus secundus, rex
Angliæ, regum pessimus, Anselmo pulso a sede Cantiæ, justo Dei judicio
a sagitta volante pulsus, quia dæmonio meridiano deditus, cujus ad
nutum vixerat, onere pessimo levavit orbem. Notandum autem quod _in
silva Novæ Forestæ_ [cf. N. C. vol. iv. p. 841], quam ipse Deo et
hominibus abstulerat, ut eam dicaret feris et canum lusibus, a qua
triginta sex matrices ecclesias extirpaverat, et populum earum dederat
_exterminio_. Consiliarius autem hujus ineptiæ Walterus Tyrell, miles
Achaza juxta Pontissaram Franciæ, qui, non sponte sua sed Domini, de
medio fecit eum ictu sagittæ, quæ feram penetrans cecidit in belluam
Deo odibilem.” “Exterminium” must of course be taken, not of a
massacre, but of a mere driving out. Giraldus too (De Inst. Princ.
173) attributes the making of the New Forest and the driving out of
the people to William Rufus;
“Hic Novam in australibus Angliæ partibus Forestam, quæ
usque hodie durat, primus instituit; multis ibidem
ecclesiis, in quibus divina ab antiquo celebrari obsequia et
ipsius præconia sublimari, desertis omnino et destitutis
multisque ruricolis et glebæ ascriptis a paternis laribus et
agris avitis miserabiliter profugatis et proscriptis.”
We have seen already (see p. 337) how this confusion was further
improved in the thirteenth century at the hands of Thomas Wykes, and
what rhetorical use of it was made later still by Henry Knighton.
* * * * *
As usual, so-called local tradition knows a vast deal about the
matter. The exact place where Rufus fell is known, and is marked by a
stone. The tree from which, in some versions, the arrow is said to
have glanced, is also known, and its site, or a successor, may be
seen. It is of course impossible to say that these things are not so;
but one knows too much of the utter worthlessness of the modern
guesses which commonly pass for local tradition to attach much value
to such stories. I have been on the spot; but, when there is no real
evidence to fix the event to one spot rather than another of a large
district, it is another matter from tracing out the signs of real
history at Le Mans and at Rochester, at Bamburgh and at Saint Cenery.
There is also a wild story about a payment made by some neighbouring
manor as a penalty, because some one shod Walter’s horse instead of
stopping him. The payment is doubtless real enough; the alleged cause
for it shows a knowledge of details beyond that of Knighton or
Geoffrey Gaimar. The critical historian, after making his way through
all these tales, can only come back to the safe statement of the
English Chronicler with which he set out.
APPENDIX TT. Vol. ii. p. 338.
THE BURIAL OF WILLIAM RUFUS.
Some of the accounts of William’s burial have been already mentioned
in the text, or in the last Note. It may have been noticed that some
of them seem anxious to claim for Henry a share in the burial of his
brother. The singular narrative of Geoffrey Gaimar (i. 56), where he
follows up his attempt to make out a late repentance for Rufus by
giving him a specially solemn and Christian burial, has been given in
brief in the text. The barons and the rest are mourning, when Gilbert
of Laigle bids them stop (“Taisez, seigneurs, pur Jhésu Xpist”) and
turn to burying their master. Then the story goes on;
“Donc véissez valez descendre
Et venéours lur haches tendre.
Tost furent trenche li fussel
De quai firent li mainel.
Deus blertrons troevent trenchez;
Bien sont léger et ensechez,
Ne sont trop gros, mès longs estoient;
Tut à mesure les conreient,
De lur ceintures e de peitrels
Lient estreit les mainels,
Puis firent lit en la bière.
De beles flours et de feugère,
Ij palefreis ont amenez,
Od riches freinz, bien enseelez;
Sur ceus ij. couchent la bière;
N’ert pas pesante mès légère;
Puis i estendent un mantel
Qui ert de paille tut novel.
Le fiz Aimon le défoubla,
Robert, qi son seignur ama,
Sur la bière cuchent le roi,
Qe portoient le palefroi.
Enséveli fu en un tiret,
Dont Willam de Montfichet.
Le jour devant ert adubbé,
N’avoit esté k’un jor porté,
Le mantel gris donc il osta.”
After some more lamentations, they set out on their journey and reach
Winchester;
“Tresque Wincestre n’ont finé,
Iloeques ont le roi posé
Enz el mouster Seint-Swithun.
Là s’assemblèrent li baron.
Et la clergié de la cité
Et li évesque et li abbé.
Li bons évesques Walkelin
Gaita le roi tresq’au matin.
O lui, moigne, clerc et abbé,
Bien ont léu et bien chanté
Leudemain font cele départie.
Tiele ne vit homme de vie,
Ne tant messes ne tiel servise
N’ert fet tresq’au jour de juise
Pur un roi, come pur li firent.
Tut autrement l’ensévelirent
Qe li baron n’avoient fet.
Là où Wauter out à lui tret.
Qui ceo ne creit aut à Wincestre,
Oïr porra si voir pœt estre.”
This is a pretty story enough; but we may be sure that all its other
details are as mythical as the part assigned to the dead Bishop
Walkelin. The only question of any importance is whether there is any
contradiction between the two more important narratives, that of
Orderic and that of William of Malmesbury in the place where he is
directly telling the story. The Chronicler and Florence simply mention
the burial without detail or comment. The account of William of
Malmesbury is the shorter of the two. The King has been shot, and
Walter Tirel has fled. Then the story goes on (iv. 333);
“Nec vero fuit qui persequeretur, illis conniventibus, istis
miserantibus, omnibus postremo alia molientibus; pars
receptacula sua munire, pars furtivas prædas agere, pars
regem novum jamjamque circumspicere. Pauci rusticanorum
cadaver, in rheda caballaria compositum, Wintoniam in
episcopatum devexere, cruore undatim per totam viam
stillante. Ibi infra ambitum turris, multorum procerum
conventu, paucorum planctu, terræ traditum.”
Orderic (782 D) tells very much the same story;
“Mortuo rege, plures optimatum ad lares suos de saltu
manicaverunt, et contra futuras motiones quas timebant res
suas ordinaverunt. Clientuli quidem cruentatum regem vilibus
utcunque pannis operuerunt, et veluti ferocem aprum,
venabulis confossum, de saltu ad urbem Guentanam detulerunt.
Clerici autem et monachi atque cives, duntaxat egeni, cum
viduis et mendicis, obviam processerunt, et pro reverentia
regiæ dignitatis in veteri monasterio Sancti Petri celeriter
tumulaverunt.”
The words of William of Malmesbury, it will be noticed, are quite
general. They do not assert the usual religious ceremony, but neither
do they exclude it. It is Orderic who in a marked way asserts the
popular excommunication. His words are;
“Porro ecclesiastici doctores et prælati, sordidam ejus
vitam et tetrum finem considerantes, tunc judicare ausi
sunt, et ecclesiastica, veluti biothanatum, absolutione
indignum censuerunt, quem vitales auras carpentem salubriter
a nequitiis castigare nequiverunt. Signa etiam pro illo in
quibusdam ecclesiis non sonuerunt, quæ pro infimis
pauperibus et mulierculis crebro diutissime pulsata sunt. De
ingenti ærario, ubi plures nummorum acervi de laboribus
miserorum congesti sunt, eleemosynæ pro anima cupidi quondam
possessoris nullæ inopibus erogatæ sunt.”
Here is no contradiction; only Orderic asserts a very remarkable
feature in the case of which William takes no notice. To me it seems
more likely that William of Malmesbury, whose business it clearly was
(see above, p. 491) to make out as good a case for William Rufus as he
could without asserting anything positively false, should leave out a
circumstance which told so much against the King, than that Orderic,
or those from whom he heard the story, should invent or imagine it. On
the other hand, the very fact that the story of the popular
excommunication is so very striking and solemn and in every way
befitting does make us tremble the least bit in admitting it as a
piece of authentic history.
We must not however forget that William of Malmesbury in a later
passage (v. 393) does seem to imply that the burial of Rufus was
accompanied by the ordinary ceremonies. In recording the election of
Henry, he says that it happened “post justa funeri regio persoluta.”
But it may fairly be doubted whether an _obiter dictum_ of this kind
is entitled to the same weight which would undoubtedly have belonged
to a direct statement in his regular narrative. The words are, after
all, somewhat vague, and if we compare this passage in William of
Malmesbury with the entry in the Chronicle, it sounds very much as if
it were merely a translation in a grander style of the simple words
“syðþan he bebyrged wæs.” The same feeling as that which is expressed
in Orderic’s account comes out in a singular passage of the Saxon
Annalist (Pertz, vi. 733); “Willehelmus rex de Anglia sagitta
interfectus est. Heinricus vero frater ejus in eodem loco pro remedio
animi sui volens monasterium constituere, prohibitus est. Apparuit
enim ei, et duo dracones ferentes eum, dicens, nichil sibi prodesse,
eo quod suis temporibus omnia destructa essent, quæ antecessores sui
in honorem Domini construxerant.”
I suppose that there need be no difficulty about the “clientuli” of
Orderic as compared with the “rusticani” of William, though the word
“clientuli” by itself might rather have suggested some of the King’s
inferior followers. But one is amazed to find Sir Francis Palgrave
(iv. 686, 687) telling us the name of the churl who brought in the
body, “a neighbouring charcoal-burner, Purkis.” And he goes on to say;
“We are not told that Purkis received any reward or thanks
for his care. His family still subsists in the
neighbourhood, nor have they risen above their original
station, poor craftsmen or cottagers. They followed the
calling of coal-burners until a recent period; and they tell
us that the wheel of the Cart which conveyed the neglected
corpse was shown by them until the last century.”
I have often heard of this local legend about Purkis, but really so
palpable a fiction ought not to have found its way into the pages of a
scholar like Sir Francis Palgrave. There are some stories which need
no argument against them, but which the evidence of nomenclature at
once upsets. Purkis is on the face of him as mythical as Crocker and
Crewis and Copleston――I am not sure whether I have remembered the
first two names right, and it is not worth turning to any book to see.
By the way in which the story is told, one would fancy that Purkis is
meant for a surname, and it may be that those who believe in him think
that he was baptized John or Thomas. In inventing legends it is at
least better to invent legends which are possible. If any one chooses
to say that the cart was driven by Godwine or Æthelstan, we cannot say
that it was not.
* * * * *
It is after this that Orderic goes on to speak of the classes of
people who did mourn for the Red King, and how gladly they would have
done summary vengeance on his slayer, if he had not been far out of
their reach;
“Stipendiarii milites et nebulones ac vulgaria scorta
quæstus suos in occasu mœchi principis perdiderunt, ejusque
miserabilem obitum, non tam pro pietate quam pro detestabili
flagitiorum cupiditate, planxerunt, Gualteriumque Tirellum,
ut pro lapsu sui defensoris membratim discerperent,
summopere quæsierunt. Porro ille, perpetrato facinore, ad
pontum propere confugit, pelagoque transito, munitiones quas
in Gallia possidebat expetiit, ibique minas et maledictiones
malevolentium tutus irrisit.”
NOTE UU. Vol. ii. p. 347.
THE ELECTION OF HENRY THE FIRST.
The details of the accession of Henry come chiefly from Orderic (782
D), though, oddly enough, he does not record the election in so many
words. But there can be no doubt as to the fact of a regular, though
necessarily a very hasty, election. The words of the Chronicle are
distinct; “And syðþan he bebyrged wæs þa witan þe þa neh handa wæron,
his broðer Heanrig to cynge gecuran.” So Henry of Huntingdon;
“Henricus, ibidem in regem electus.” Florence strangely slurs over the
election, saying only, “successit junior frater suus Heinricus.”
William of Malmesbury (v. 393) is quite distinct;
“In regem electus est, aliquantis tamen ante controversiis
inter proceres agitatis atque sopitis, annitente maxime
comite Warwicensi Henrico, viro integro et sancto, cujus
familiari jamdudum usus fuerat contubernio.”
Here we hear only of “proceres;” but we get the important facts of the
division among the electors, and of the special agency of the Earl of
Warwick, which falls in with the notice of Orderic (783 B) that the
Count of Meulan accompanied the King-elect to London. The Beaumont
brothers act together. But Orderic, in his zeal to describe the
picturesque scene between Henry and William of Breteuil, leaves out
any distinct record of the election. It is however implied in the
words which follow the passage quoted in p. 347;
“Tandem, convenientibus amicis et sapientibus consiliariis,
hinc et inde lis mitigata est, et saniori consultu, ne pejor
scissura fieret, arx cum regalibus gazis filio regis Henrico
reddita est.”
The assembly which settled the matter, and which gave up the royal
treasury to Henry, was beyond all doubt the assembly which, according
to William of Malmesbury, elected Henry king. It was only to a king or
king-elect that they would decree the surrender of the treasure.
Indeed one might be tempted to make a slight change in the order of
events as told by Orderic. One is tempted to suspect that the assembly
voted the election of Henry, that he went, armed with this vote, to
demand the treasure, and that it was then that William of Breteuil
withstood him. This however is simply conjecture. But there can be no
doubt as to the election of Henry by such an assembly as could be got
together at the moment. Nor do I see any reason to doubt Orderic’s
story as to the scene between Henry and William of Breteuil. At all
events, Orderic has made it the occasion of putting forward some very
sound constitutional doctrine, which is just as valuable, even if any
severe critic should reject the story as a fact.
* * * * *
I have spoken elsewhere (see N. C. vol. v. p. 845) of two tales in
Matthew Paris with regard to Henry’s accession, of which Thierry made
a characteristic use. I have nothing to add to what I said then.
* * * * *
There can, I think, be no doubt that the celebrant at Henry’s
coronation was Maurice Bishop of London. The Chronicler, Florence,
Orderic, and Henry of Huntingdon, all mention Maurice and no other
prelate, though of course some other bishops would take a secondary
part in the ceremony. The Archbishop of York would have been the
regular celebrant during the vacancy of Canterbury; but, as Thomas
died so soon afterwards, the natural inference is that he was too sick
to come. And indeed, if he was in his own province, he could not, even
if he had been in the best of health, have come to Westminster at such
short notice. Even Thomas Stubbs does not claim the consecration of
Henry for his namesake, unless indeed he means (X Scriptt. 1707) to
insinuate it in a very dark way. He mentions the vacancy of Canterbury
after the death of Lanfranc, and adds;
“Ex antiquo tamen extitit consuetudo inter duos Angliæ
metropolitanos, ut altero defuncto alter in provincia
defuncti archiepiscopalia faceret, utpote episcopos
consecrare, regem coronare, coronato rege natalis domini,
paschæ et pentecostes majorem missam cantare. Hæc interim
fecit Thomas archiepiscopus, nec quisquam episcoporum erat
qui hæc in sua ipsius diocesi præsente archiepiscopo præsumeret.”
He then mentions the bishops whom Thomas consecrated, Hervey of
Norwich――that is, Herbert of Thetford――Ralph of Chichester, and Hervey
of Bangor. If he had really thought that Thomas had crowned a king, he
would surely have said so distinctly. I can therefore attach no
importance to the strange statement of the two Ely writers (Anglia
Sacra, i. 613; Stewart, Liber Eliensis, 284) that Henry was
consecrated by Maurice, but crowned by Thomas (“a Mauritio Lundoniensi
episcopo in regem est consecratus, sed a Thoma Eboracensi coronatus”).
But the distinction between consecration and coronation may be worth
the attention of ritual students.
* * * * *
It was an easy mistake of a Welsh writer (see the Brut, 1098, that is
1100) to transfer the election from Winchester to London; “From thence
[Winchester] he went to London, and took possession of it, which is
the chiefest and crown of the whole kingdom of England [Lloeger]. Then
the French and Saxons [Ffreinc a Saeson] all flocked together to him,
and by royal council appointed him king in England [vrenhin yn
Lloeger].”
APPENDIX WW. Vol. ii. p. 384.
THE OBJECTIONS TO THE MARRIAGE OF HENRY AND MATILDA.
Our two fullest accounts of this matter are those of Eadmer and of
Hermann of Tournay (D’Achery, ii. 894, see above, p. 600). Eadmer’s is
the account, not only of a contemporary, but, we cannot doubt, of an
eye-witness. Hermann wrote in another land, long afterwards, when the
wars of Stephen and Matilda and the pleadings in the papal court (see
N. C. vol. v. p. 857) had called men’s minds back to the story of the
marriage of Matilda’s parents. His memory, as we see, failed him as to
details. He did not remember either of the names of Eadgyth-Matilda;
he mistakes her brother David for her father; he makes her (D’Achery,
ii. 894) the mother of both the sons of Henry who were drowned in the
White Ship. It is quite plain that his remembrance of what he had
heard from Anselm forty or fifty years before was coloured by later
ways of looking at things.
It is quite plain from Eadmer’s account that Eadgyth herself had not
the slightest feeling against the marriage, but that she was eager for
it; she disliked neither King Henry nor his crown. Nor has Anselm any
objection, as soon as the evidence shows that no rule of the Church
would be broken by the marriage. That he was strict in requiring such
evidence was only natural and right; “Affirmabat nulla se unquam
ratione in hoc declinandum ut suam Deo sponsam tollat et eam terreno
homini in matrimonium jungat” (Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 56). But when the
evidence shows that Eadgyth was not “Dei sponsa,” he makes no further
objection. Nothing is proved by his use of a negative form, “judicium
vestrum non abjicio” (Hist. Nov. 58). The sentimental objection which
Hermann puts into his mouth seems quite out of character. Anselm takes
the common-sense view; If she is a nun, she must not marry; if she is
not a nun, she may. One can believe that Anselm would in his heart
have preferred that any virgin should abide in the state which he
deemed the higher. But he would hardly have stooped to say; “This
marriage is perfectly lawful; but the veil has touched her head; so
you had better marry somebody else.” In this and in the prophecy we
surely see the beginning of the growth of a legend. Some legends of
Anselm seem to have arisen in his life-time. This one could not, as no
ill-luck happened to the children of the marriage till after Anselm
was dead.
I am not sure that a very slight touch in the same direction may not
be seen in the account of William of Malmesbury, v. 418; the words
follow the passage quoted above, p. 603; “Cum rex suscipere vellet eam
thalamo, res in disceptationem venit; nec nisi legitimis productis
testibus, qui eam jurarent sine professione causa procorum velum
gessisse, archiepiscopus adduci potuit ad consentiendum.”
William, it is to be noticed, does not repeat the English pedigree, on
which in his former notice (v. 393) he was less emphatic than Eadmer.
I do not know what can be meant by “ignobiles nuptiæ.” Hardly Count
Alan; hardly Earl William of Warren or Surrey, who is also spoken of.
* * * * *
Thierry (ii. 152) has an elaborate romance, in which the father of
Western theology comes in casually as “un moine du Bec, nommé
Anselme.” Here Eadgyth dislikes the marriage, but sacrifices herself
for the good of her people. All this comes from Matthew Paris, who has
two amazing stories. In one (Hist. Angl. i. 188), though Malcolm and
Margaret have been killed off at the proper time, they appear again in
full life when King Henry seeks their daughter――“filia elegantissimæ
speciei, et, quod pluris erat, vitæ sanctissimæ.” She was brought up
in a monastery, perhaps as a nun (“in sanctimonialium claustro propter
honestatem educata, et, ut dicitur, velo sacro Deo dicato ac jam
professa”). King Henry woos her with much fervour of passion (“ipsam
propter ipsius mores et faciei venustatem sitienter adoptavit, et
instanter petiit in uxorem”). The parents dare not withstand such a
lover; they go to ask their daughter’s own wishes. She rebukes them in
fearful and mysterious words for speaking of any such matter
(“increpans patrem et matrem de zelotipiæ præsumptione, nec ipsos
debere de corpore suo fructum mortalitatis exposcere, vel fructum
posteritatis infructuosum”). At this the father is sad; the mother is
pleased by the decision of her daughter (“matri propositum puellare
complacuit”). The King’s passion only waxes warmer; like Balak, he
sends more honourable messengers; he commands, prays, promises, till
he stumbles into a hexameter “missis sollemnioribus nuntiis, urgentius
adolescentulam in reginam expostulans, imperium, promissa, preces,
confudit in unum”). Malcolm, knowing that his wife will never agree to
the marriage, turns, without her knowledge, to the abbess by whom his
daughter had been brought up. The reverend mother is prevailed on to
argue the point at length, and to set forth every possible argument,
personal and political, on behalf of the marriage;
“Proponens utilitatem inde proventuram, scilicet regnorum
fœdera, regum mutuam dilectionem, pacis tranquillitatem,
propagationis posteritatem, reginalem dignitatem, honoris
magnificentiam, divitiarum affluentiam, amoris desiderium,
amatoris pulcritudinem.”
Father and abbess together are too much for the “beata virgo Matilda.”
She yields, but only “maledicens fructui sui ventris affuturo.” Anselm
marries them, “nuptiis sollemniter, ut decuit, celebratis;” but a
contemporary note in the margin is added, “Nota nuptias illicitas.”
And we are told that the disturbances which presently followed, the
invasion of Robert and anything else, were all judgements on this
unlawful marriage;
“Facta est commotio magna in regno, quasi Deo irato, quoniam
rex Henricus zelotipaverat, et, sicut fratrem Robertum de
regno supplantando alienaverat, sic Christum de sponsa sua
defraudaverat.”
It is to be noticed that the writer who brings in all this action of
Malcolm under the year 1101 had long before (i. 43) recorded his death
in its proper place, or rather before its proper place, as he puts it
in 1092 instead of 1093.
The other account comes in the Chronica Majora, ii. 121. It is chiefly
remarkable for two speeches, the second of which is put into the mouth
of Matilda herself. Matthew had just copied a business-like bit from
Roger of Wendover (ii. 169), recording the marriage without comment;
he then goes on to say that Matilda was married against her will,
being won over by the importunity of kinsfolk and friends. The words
are, “parentum et amicorum consiliis vix adquiescens; tandem tædio
affecta, adquievit.” (“Parentes” may be taken by the charitably
disposed in the wider French sense, but it must be remembered that in
the other version Malcolm and Margaret are brought in as living in the
year 1100.) This version is quite certain that Matilda had made a vow,
but leaves it open whether she had actually taken the veil (“Cum
Christiana matertera sancta sanctissime in claustro religionis educata
fuerat, et votum virginitatis Deo spoponderat, et, ut multi perhibent,
velum susceperat professæ religionis”). The kinsfolk and friends make
a solemn appeal on patriotic grounds;
“O mulierum generosissima ac gratissima, per te reparabitur
Anglorum genialis nobilitas, quæ diu degeneravit, et fœdus
magnorum principum redintegrabitur, si matrimonio prælocuto
consentias. Quod si non feceris, causa eris perennis
inimicitiæ gentium diversarum, et sanguinis humani
effusionis irrestaurabilis.”
Matilda, “virgo clementissima,” gets angry, and, in the bitterness of
her soul, uses yet stronger language than she does in the other
version;
“Ex quo sic oportet fieri, utcunque consentio, sed fructum
ventris mei, quod est horribile dictu, diabolo commendo. Me
enim Deo vovi, quod non sinistis, immo sponsum meum, quem
elegi, ausu temerario, immemores causæ sancti Matthæi
apostoli, zelotipatis.”
We are then told of the vehement love of the King for the wife whom he
had thus wrongfully married;
“Sic igitur nuptiæ magnifice, ut decuit, celebrabantur, et
tanto ardentius exarsit rex in ipsius amorem, quanto
scelestius adamavit. Secundum illud poeticum
“Nitimur in vetitum semper.”
Peccato igitur exigente, facta est commotio subito in regno.”
From this point Matthew goes on copying Roger of Wendover’s account of
Robert’s invasion, but putting in bits of colouring of his own. When
Henry sends his fleet to meet that of Robert, we are told that he does
it “conscientiam habens multipliciter cauteriatam.” And when some of
the sailors (see p. 404)――who are enlarged by Robert of Wendover into
“pars major exercitus”――go over to Robert, the reason for their so
doing is said to be “quia rex jam tyrannizaverat.”
There is something very strange in this echo at so late a time of
objections which one would have thought that both common sense and the
authority of Anselm would have set aside for ever. Was there any
lurking wish in the thirteenth century to weaken the title of the
Angevin kings, even on so stale a ground as the doubtful validity of
the marriage of so distant an ancestress? We must remember that
something of the kind really happened in Scotland long after. The
right of the Stewarts was murmured against at a very late time on the
ground of the doubtful marriage of Robert the Second. And we have seen
that in an intermediate time, during the reign of Stephen, the
validity of the elder Matilda’s marriage, and the consequent
legitimacy of the younger Matilda, were called in question by
Stephen’s supporters in arguments before the papal court. See N. C.
vol. v. p. 857.
* * * * *
There is something singular in the way in which the marriage is
entered in the Winchester Annals (1100), among a crowd of other facts
not put in exact chronological order; “Matildis, Malcolmi regis filia
Scotiæ, de monacha Wiltoniæ non tamen professa, regina Angliæ facta
est.” One almost thinks of the wild story about Eadgyth of Wilton
which I have spoken of in N. C. vol. i. p. 267. But the words have a
parallel in the language of the Brut (1098, that is 1110), which,
after the account of Henry’s election, adds,
“And immediately he took for his wife Mahalt, daughter of
Malcolm, king of Prydyn, by Queen Margaret her mother
[‘Vahalt uerch y Moel Cólóm, brenhin Prydein’――another
manuscript more reasonably has ‘y Pictieit’――‘o Vargaret
urenhines y mam’]. And she, by his marrying her, was raised
to the rank of queen; for William Rufus [Gúilim Goch] his
brother, in his lifetime, had consorted with concubines, and
on that account had died without an heir.” Cf. p. 503.
* * * * *
I have said, what is perfectly true, that Orderic is the only writer
who directly mentions that Matilda had once borne the name of Eadgyth.
But I think that I have lighted on a most curious trace of the fact in
a later writer. Peter Langtoft (i. 448) mentions the return of Robert,
and adds;
“La femme le duk Robert fu en proteccioun
Le counte de Cornewaylle, fillye [fu] Charloun
Seygnur de Cecylle, Egyth la dame ad noun;
Robert la prent e mene à sa possessioun.”
The name appears in various spellings in different manuscripts,
Edgith, Egdith, and what not. It was perhaps not very wonderful that,
in Peter Langtoft’s day, a Count of Conversana should grow into a lord
of Sicily, and that a lord of Sicily should be thought to be of
necessity called Charles. But why should Sibyl be turned into Edith? I
can think of no reason except that the next lines are;
“Cel houre en Escoce un damoysele estait,
Fillye al ray Malcolme, de ky maynt hom parlayt.
Taunt fu bone et bele, ke Henry le esposayt,
Ray de Engleterre, Malde home l’appelayt.”
Surely the poet had read somewhere that Matilda had been called Edith,
and then mixed up her and Sibyl together. But why Sibyl should be in
the protection of the “Count of Cornwall”――meaning, if anybody,
William of Mortain――it is not easy to see. Had he read in Orderic (784
B, C) that Robert and Sibyl went together to “mons sancti Michaelis
archangeli de periculo maris,” and took it for the Cornish mount?
Robert of Brunne (i. 95, Hearne) translates;
“Noþeles þe erle of Cornwaile kept his wife þat while
Charles douhter scho lord of Cezile,
_Dame Edith bright as glas_: Roberd þouht no gile,
Bot com on gode manere tille his broþer Henry,
He wife þat soiorned here he led to Normundie.”
NOTE XX. Vol. ii. p. 412.
THE TREATY OF 1101.
I do not know that there is any necessary contradiction between the
detailed narrative of Orderic (788), who alone speaks of the personal
interview between the brothers, and the shorter accounts of the other
writers, who have more to say about the action of the wise men on each
side. Nothing is more likely than that the terms of the treaty should
be discussed by commissioners on both sides, and then finally agreed
on in a personal meeting of the two princes. The only point of
difficulty is that Orderic seems to imply that nobody on either side
could be trusted, except the princes themselves. He begins with
Henry’s message to ask why Robert had entered his kingdom (“cur Angliæ
fines cum armato exercitu intrare præsumpserit”). Robert’s answer
reminds one of the answer of Edward son of Henry the Sixth to Edward
the Fourth (Hall, 301; Lingard, iv. 189). His words are; “Regnum
patris mei cum proceribus meis ingressus sum, et illud reposco debitum
mihi jure primogenitorum.”
The armies are now face to face, and the negotiations begin. In the
Chronicle the reconcilation clearly seems to be the work of the head
men; “Ac þa heafod men heom betwenan foran and þa broðra gesehtodan.”
So Florence; “Sapientiores utriusque partis, habito inter se salubri
consilio, pacem inter fratres composuere.” William of Malmesbury (v.
395) adds a special reason for peace; “Satagentibus sanioris consilii
hominibus, qui dicerent pietatis jus violandum si fraterna necessitudo
prælio concurreret, paci animos accommodavere; reputantes quod, si
alter occumberet, alter infirmior remaneret, cum nullus fratrum præter
ipsos superesset.” There is here nothing to throw any doubt on the
good faith of anybody, and no negotiators are mentioned by name. It is
Wace (15508 Pluquet, 10423 Andresen) who mentions negotiators on
Robert’s side whom we certainly should not have looked for;
“Conseillie out comunement
Qu’il le feront tot altrement;
Les dous freres acorderont,
Ia por els ne se combatront.
Robert, qui Belesme teneit
E qui del duc s’entremeteit,
E cil qui Moretoig aueit,
Qui a s’enor aparteneit
――Will, co dient, out non――
E Robert, qui fu filz Haimon,
Ouoc altres riches barons,
Donc io ne sai dire les nons,
Qui del rei e del duc teneient
E amedous seruir deueient,
De l’accorder s’entremeteient,
Por la bataille qu’il cremeient.
Del rei al duc souent aloent
E la parole entre els portoent;
La pais aloent porchacant
E la concorde porparlant.”
It is Orderic alone who implies that Henry asked for a personal
interview, and gives his reason;
“Seditiosi proditores magis bellum quam pacem optabant. Et
quia plus privatæ quam publicæ commoditati insistebant,
versipelles veredarii verba pervertebant, et magis jurgia
quam concordiam inter fratres serebant. Porro sagax Henricus
istud advertit, unde fratris colloquium ore ad os petiit; et
convenientes fraterni amoris dulcedo ambos implevit.”
He then goes on to describe the meeting of the brothers;
“Soli duo germani spectantis in medio populi collocuti sunt,
et ore quod corde ruminabant sine dolo protulerunt. Denique
post pauca verba mutuo amplexati sunt, datisque dulcibus
basiis, sine sequestro concordes effecti sunt. Verba quidem
hujus colloquii nequeo hic inserere, quia non interfui, sed
opus, quod de tantorum consilio fratrum processit, auditu
didici.”
He then gives the terms of the treaty, and adds;
“Remotis omnibus arbitris soli fratres scita sua sanxerunt,
et, cunctis in circumitu eos cum admiratione spectantibus,
decreverunt quod sese, ut decet fratres, invicem adjuvarent,
et omnia patris sui dominia resumerent, scelestosque litium
satores pariter utrinque punirent.”
The colouring of Orderic in these passages can hardly be reconciled
with the other accounts. They clearly speak of the terms as agreed
upon between the chief men of both sides, while Orderic implies that,
on account of their untrustworthiness, the princes met and settled
matters for themselves. But it is possible to accept Orderic’s fact
without accepting his colouring. Or we may suppose that there were
among the negotiators some who wished to hinder peace, but that those
who laboured for it got the better in the end. Then, we may suppose,
they agreed upon terms, and the King and the Duke met to ratify the
treaty. As for the terms of the treaty, they are, as usual, given in
the best and most formal way in the Chronicle. The brothers agree,
“On þa gerád þet se cyng forlet eall þæt he mid streangðe innan
Normandig togeanes þam eorle heold, and þæt ealle þa on Englelande
heora land ongean heafdon, þe hit ær þurh þone eorl forluron, and
Eustaties eorl eac eall his fæderland her on lande, and þet se eorl
Rotbert ælce geare sceolde of Englalande þreo þusend marc seolfres
habban, and loc hweðer þæra gebroðra oðerne oferbide wære yrfeweard
ealles Englalandes and eac Normandiges, buton se forðfarena yrfenuman
heafde be rihtre æwe.”
Florence says nothing about the mutual succession of the two brothers,
nor does he mention Eustace by name. He also leaves out the cession of
Henry’s Norman dominions;
“Pacem inter fratres ea ratione composuere ut iii. mille
marcas, id est MM. libras argenti, singulis annis rex
persolveret comiti, et omnibus suos pristinos honores quos
in Anglia pro comitis fidelitate perdiderant, restitueret
gratuito, et cunctis quibus honores in Normannia causa regis
fuerant ablati, comes redderet absque pretio.”
Nothing in the treaty seems to have struck William of Malmesbury,
except the yearly payment of three thousand marks by the King to the
Duke. And even that he brings in quite incidentally, as if to account
for its being very shortly given up;
“Sed et trium millium marcarum promissio lenem comitis
fallebat credulitatem, ut, procinctu soluto, de tanta
pecunia menti blandiretur suæ, quam ille posteriori statim
anno voluntati reginæ libens, quod illa peteret,
condonavit.”
One is reminded of the story which William elsewhere (iii. 251) tells,
without any date, of Robert’s friend Eadgar; “Quantula simplicitas ut
libram argenti, quam quotidie in stipendio accipiebat, regi pro uno
equo perdonaret.” No doubt in both cases the horse and the gift to the
Queen were mere decent pretences for stopping the payment; but the
gift to Matilda is quite of a piece with Robert’s conduct to her at
Winchester (see p. 406). The Chronicler two years later (1103) records
Robert’s surrender of his pension;
“Ðises geares eac com se eorl Rotbert of Normandig to
sprecene wið þone cyng [the common Domesday form in English]
her on lande, and ær he heonne ferde he forgeaf þa þreo
þusend marc þe him _seo cyng_ Heanrig be foreweard ælce
geare gifan sceolde.”
Here we have no mention of Matilda, unless she anyhow lurks in the
feminine article so oddly assigned to her husband.
Orderic helps us to the more distinct resignation by Robert of his
claims on the English crown, which is however implied in all the other
accounts――to the release of Henry from his homage to Robert――and to
the stipulation about Domfront, which was naturally more interesting
to him than it was to those who wrote in England. He does not mention
the mutual heirship of the brothers. He also confounds marks and
pounds;
“In primis Rodbertus dux calumniam quam in regno Angliæ
ingesserat fratri dimisit, ipsumque de homagio, quod sibi
jamdudum fecerat, pro regali dignitate absolvit. Henricus
autem rex tria milia librarum sterilensium sese duci
redditurum per singulos annos spopondit, totumque
Constantinum pagum et quidquid in Neustria possidebat,
præter Danfrontem, reliquit. Solum Danfrontem castrum sibi
retinuit, quia Danfrontanis, quando illum intromiserunt,
jurejurando pepigerat quod nunquam eos de manu sua
projiceret, nec leges eorum vel consuetudines mutaret.”
* * * * *
I am glad to end with the mention of one of the noblest spots of which
I have had to speak in my story, and with one of the most honourable
features in the history of King Henry.
[1] In this chapter we have to make more use than usual of the
Scottish, British, and Northumbrian writers. I do not
undertake to go very deeply into any purely literary questions
about them. I have simply used them for facts, and have dealt
with their statements according to the usual rules of
criticism. The Scottish and Northumbrian writers will be found
in Mr. Skene’s edition of Fordun and in the Surtees Society’s
edition of Simeon. This last contains, among other things,
Turgot’s Life of Saint Margaret and the passages from Fordun
which profess to be extracts from Turgot. The Surtees’ text
and Mr. Skene’s text do not always agree, but their
differences are not often of much importance for my purposes.
It is certainly strange if some of these passages really come
from a contemporary writer. For Welsh matters we are, to my
mind, better off. Unhappily I do not know enough of the Welsh
tongue really to make use of the originals, though I am not
utterly at the mercy of the translator as to proper names and
technical terms. In the Chronicles and Memorials are two
volumes of most valuable matter which need a fresh editor. It
is not my business to enter into any questions as to their
authorship, how far it is due to Caradoc of Llancarfan or
anybody else. In any case the Latin _Annales Cambriæ_, meagre
as they are, form a thoroughly good and trustworthy record,
but the Editor seems in many places to have been unable either
to read his manuscript or to construe his Latin. Many of the
readings too which are most valuable historically are thrust
into notes. The Welsh _Brut y Tywysogion_, published in the
same series by the same Editor, is a fuller version of the
Annals, and also I believe essentially trustworthy. I have
been obliged to quote this in the translation, though often
with some doubts as to its accuracy. In the preface a good
deal of matter by the late Mr. Aneurin Owen is reprinted
without acknowledgement. There is also another _Brut y
Tywysogion_, otherwise “The Gwentian Chronicles of Caradoc of
Llancarvan,” translated by Mr. Owen and published by the
Cambrian Archæological Association. Here we have the
translating and editing of a really eminent Welsh scholar, but
the book, as a historical authority, is very inferior to
either the Latin Annals or the other Brut. A great deal of
legendary matter, some of which must be of quite a late date,
has been thrust in. I quote the more trustworthy Brut in the
Chronicles and Memorials as the _elder_, and that published by
the Cambrian Archæological Association as the _later_ Brut.
[2] Chron. Petrib. 1093. See Appendix BB.
[3] See vol. i. p. 304.
[4] Chron. Petrib. 1093. See Appendix BB.
[5] See vol. i. p. 307.
[6] See vol. i. p. 298.
[7] See vol. i. p. 410.
[8] See vol. i. p. 421.
[9] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 259.
[10] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 355.
[11] See vol. i. p. 417.
[12] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 237.
[13] See N. C. vol. v. p. 629.
[14] So says the Northern interpolator of Florence whom we
are used to call Simeon, 1093; “Ecclesia nova Dunelmi est
incepta tertio idus Augusti feria quinta, episcopo Willelmo
et Malcholmo rege Scottorum et Turgoto priore ponentibus
primos in fundamento lapides.” Fordun (v. 20) says the same
in a passage which purports to come from Turgot, and of
which we shall have to speak again. It is certainly
remarkable, as Mr. Hinde remarks in his note on the passage
in the Gesta Regum (i. 104), that in the History of the
Church of Durham (iv. 8) Simeon makes no mention of Malcolm.
“Eo die episcopus, et qui post eum secundus erat in ecclesia
prior Turgotus, cum cæteris fratribus primos in fundamento
lapides posuerunt. Nam paulo ante, id est, iiii. Kal.
Augusti feria vi. idem episcopus et prior, facta cum
fratribus oratione, ac data benedictione, fundamenta
cœperant fodere.”
[15] Chron. Petrib. 1093. See Appendix BB.
[16] Ib.
[17] This is from Florence. See Appendix BB.
[18] See Appendix BB.
[19] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 58, 119, 576, 579.
[20] Chron. Petrib. 1093. See Appendix BB.
[21] See Appendix CC.
[22] See vol. i. p. 297.
[23] See Appendix CC.
[24] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 315, 648.
[25] See Appendix CC.
[26] Chron. Petrib. 1091. “Hine sloh Moræl of Bæbbaburh se
wæs þæs eorles stiward and Melcolmes cinges godsib.” See N.
C. vol. iii. pp. 456, 777.
[27] On the history of Tynemouth, see Appendix FF.
[28] Will. Malms. iii. 250. “Humatus multis annis apud
Tinemuthe, nuper ab Alexandro filio Scotiam ad Dunfermlin
portatus est.”
[29] Sim. Dun. Gesta Regum, 1093. “In cujus morte justitia
judicantis Dei aperte consideratur, ut videlicet in illa
provincia cum suis interiret, quam sæpe ipse vastare
avaritia stimulante consuevit, quinquies namque illam atroci
depopulatione attrivit, et miseros indigenas in servitutem
redigendos abduxit captivos.”
[30] Ib. “Exercitus illius vel gladiis confoditur, vel qui
gladios fugerunt inundatione fluminum, quæ tunc pluviis
hiemalibus plus solito excreverant, absorti sunt.”
[31] Ib. “Corpus regis, cum suorum nullus remaneret qui
terra illud cooperiret, duo ex indigenis carro impositum in
Tynemuthe sepelierunt.”
[32] Sim. Dun. Gesta Regum, 1093. “Sic factum est ut, ubi
multos vita et rebus et libertate privaverat, ibidem ipse
Dei judicio vitam simul cum rebus amitteret.”
[33] I am sorry that Mr. Burton (Hist. Scotland, i. 416)
should have thought it necessary to tell the story of
Margaret and her biographer in somewhat mocking tones. I can
see nothing but what is exquisitely beautiful and touching
in her life as written by Turgot, for Turgot I suppose it
really is.
[34] Turgot, Vit. Marg. vi. (Surtees Simeon, p. 241),
enlarges on this head; “Fateor, magnum misericordiæ Dei
mirabar miraculum, cum viderem interdum tantam orandi regis
intentionem, tantam inter orandum in pectore viri sæcularis
compunctionem.” He adds, “Quæ ipsa respuerat eadem et ipse
respuere, et quæ amaverat, amore amoris illius amare.”
William of Malmesbury (iv. 311) speaks to the same effect;
Malcolm and Margaret were “ambo cultu pietatis insignes,
illa præcipue.”
[35] So witnesses Turgot in the chapter just quoted; “Libros
in quibus ipsa vel orare consueverat vel legere, ille,
ignarus licet literarum, sæpe manu versare solebat et
inspicere: et dum ab ea quis illorum esset ei carior
audisset, hunc et ipse cariorem habere, deosculari, sæpius
contrectare.” Then follows about the bindings.
[36] Turgot is of course full on this head throughout, and
we have a further witness from our own Florence (1093) and
Orderic (701 D). From the last we get her bounty to
Iona――that barbarous name is more intelligible than any
other. In his words it is “Huense cœnobium quod servus
Christi Columba, tempore Brudei, regis Pictorum, filii
Meilocon, construxerat.”
[37] Turgot, in his fourth chapter, enlarges on the strict
order which Margaret kept in her household, especially among
her own attendant ladies. “Inerat enim reginæ tanta cum
jocunditate severitas, tanta cum severitate jocunditas, ut
omnes qui erant in ejus obsequio, viri et feminæ, illam et
timendo diligerent et diligendo timerent. Quare in præsentia
ejus non solum nihil execrandum facere, sed ne turpe quidem
verbum quisquam ausus fuerat proferre. Ipsa enim universa in
se reprimens vitia, cum magna gravitate lætabatur, cum magna
honestate irascebatur.”
[38] Orderic (703 B, C) has his panegyric on the three
brothers, and specially on David; but it is William of
Malmesbury (v. 400) who is especially emphatic on the
unparalleled purity of life of all three. “Neque vero unquam
in acta historiarum relatum est tantæ sanctitatis tres
fuisse pariter reges et fratres, maternæ pietatis nectar
redolentes; namque præter victus parcitatem, eleemosynarum
copiam, orationum assiduitatem, ita domesticum regibus
vitium evicerunt, ut nunquam feratur in eorum thalamos nisi
legitimas uxores isse, nec eorum quenquam pellicatu aliquo
pudicitiam contristasse.”
[39] Will. Malms, ib. “Solus fuit Edmundus Margaritæ filius
a bono degener.” We shall hear of him and his doings
presently.
[40] Turgot, viii. p. 243. “Scottorum quidam, contra totius
ecclesiæ consuetudinem, nescio quo ritu barbaro missam
celebrare consueverunt.”
[41] Ib. viii. (Surtees Simeon, p. 243). “Qui [Malcolmus]
quoniam perfecte Anglorum linguam æque ac propriam noverat,
vigilantissimus in hoc concilio utriusque partis interpres
extiterat.”
[42] Ib. vii. (p. 242). “Obsequia regis sublimiora
constituit, ut eum procedentem sive equitantem multa cum
grandi honore agmina constiparent, et hoc cum tanta censura,
ut quocumque devenissent, nulli eorum cuiquam aliquid
liceret rapere, nec rusticos aut pauperes quoslibet quolibet
modo quisquam illorum opprimere auderet vel lædere.” He
describes at some length the new-fashioned splendour which
she brought into the Scottish court, and adds; “Et hæc
quidem illa fecerat, non quia mundi honore delectabatur,
sed, quod regia dignitas ab ea exigebat, persolvere
cogebatur.”
[43] Take for instance our own Chronicle, 1093; “Da þa seo
gode cwen Margarita þis gehyrde, hyre þa leofstan hlaford
and sunu þus beswikene, heo wearð oð deað on mode
geancsumed, and mid hire prestan to cyrcean eode, and hire
gerihtan underfeng, and æt Gode abæd þæt heo hire gast
ageaf.” Florence and Orderic are much to the same effect.
[44] These details come from Turgot, chap. xii, xiii. He was
not himself present, having seen her for the last time some
while before her death, but late enough to bear witness
(chap. xii.) to her expectation of death. The story of her
last moments was told to Turgot by a priest who was
specially in the Queen’s favour, who was present at her
death, and who afterwards became a monk at Durham as an
offering for her soul. “Post mortem reginæ, pro ipsius anima
perpetuo se Christi servitio tradidit; et ad sepulchrum
incorrupti corporis sanctissimi patris Cuthberti suscipiens
habitum monachi, seipsum pro ea hostiam obtulit.”
[45] Turgot, ib. “Ipsa quoque illam, quam Nigram Crucem
nominare, quamque in maxima semper veneratione habere
consuevit, sibi afferri præcepit.” Another manuscript has
“Crucem Scotiæ nigram.”
[46] “Quinquagesimum psalmum ex ordine decantans;” that is
the fifty-first in our reckoning.
[47] “Ille quod verum erat dicere noluit, ne audita morte
illorum continuo et ipsa moreretur; nam respondebat, eos
benevalere.”
[48] “Sed in omnibus his non peccavit labiis suis, neque
stultum quid contra Deum locuta est.” We must always
remember the common habit of reviling God and the saints
which it was thought rather a special virtue to be free
from. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 24, note.
[49] “In laudem et gratiarum actionem prorupit, dicens:
‘Laudes et gratias tibi, omnipotens Deus, refero, qui me
tantas in meo exitu angustias tolerare, hasque tolerantem ab
aliquibus peccati maculis, ut spero, voluisti mundare.’”
[50] The place is not mentioned by Turgot in the Life.
According to Fordun (v. 21), who professes to copy Turgot,
Margaret died “in castro puellarum;” see the Surtees Simeon,
p. 262.
[51] “Quod mirum est, faciem ejus, quæ more morientium tota
in morte palluerat, ita post mortem rubor cum candore
permixtus perfuderat, ut non mortua sed dormiens credi
potuisset,” Cf. the picture of her uncle Eadward. See N. C.
vol. iii. p. 15.
[52] See Appendix DD.
[53] See Appendix AA.
[54] Three parties are clearly described by Mr. E. W.
Robertson, i. 155. There were the remnants of the partisans
of the house of Moray, the house of Macbeth, the party of
the North, and the partisans of the reigning house, divided
into a strictly Scottish and an English party. The success
of Donald must have been owing to a momentary union of the
first two of these parties. I hardly know what to make of
the statement in the Turgot extracts (Simeon, p. 262) that
Donald arose “auxilio regis Norwegiæ.”
[55] He appears in Fordun (v. 21) as “Donaldus Rufus vel
Bane, frater regis.” One cannot too often remind oneself of
the true position of Macbeth. I was perhaps a little hard on
him in N. C. vol. ii. p. 55.
[56] Chron. Petrib. 1093. “Þa Scottas þa Dufenal to cynge
gecuron, Melcolmes broðer, and ealle þa Englisce út
adræfdon, þe ǽr mid þam cynge Melcolme wæron.” So
Florence; “Omnes Anglos qui de curia regia extiterunt de
Scottia expulerunt.”
[57] See N. C. vol. i. p. 315. And compare the alleged
design for a massacre of Normans, N. C. vol. v. p. 281.
[58] In the passages just quoted only English are mentioned.
We hear of English and French directly afterwards, when the
strangers are driven out in Duncan’s time. This difference
may be accidental, or it may be meant to mark a specially
Norman element under Duncan which had not shown itself under
Malcolm.
[59] Fordun, v. 21. “Filios et filias regis et reginæ
sororis suæ congregatos in Angliam secum secretius traduxit,
et eos per cognatos et cognitos, non manifeste sed quasi in
occulto nutriendos, destinavit. Timuit enim, ne Normanni,
qui tunc temporis Angliam invaserant, sibi vel suis malum
molirentur, eo quod Angliæ regnum eis hereditario jure
debebatur.”
[60] See Appendix EE.
[61] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 244, 294-309.
[62] See N. C. vol. v. p. 169.
[63] See Appendix EE.
[64] See Appendix EE.
[65] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 57. “Quem pannum in ipsius quidem
præsentia gemens ac tremebunda ferebam, sed mox ut me
conspectui ejus subtrahere poteram, arreptum in humum
jacere, pedibus proterere, et ita quo in odio fervebam,
quamvis insipienter, consueveram desævire. Isto, non alio
modo, teste conscientia mea, velata fui.”
[66] See Appendix EE.
[67] See vol. i. p. 435.
[68] See vol. i. p. 438.
[69] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 517; vol. v. p. 121. Will. Malms.
v. 400; “Ille [Willelmus] Duncanum, filium Malcolmi nothum,
militem fecit.” So Fordun, v. 24; “Duncanus, Malcolmi regis
filius nothus, cum obses erat in Anglia cum rege Willelmo
Rufo, armis militaribus ab eo insignitus.” See N. C. vol.
iv. p. 785.
[70] See vol. i. pp. 13, 305.
[71] Chron. Petrib. 1093. “Da þa Dunecan Melcolmes cynges
sunu þis eall gehyrde þus gefaren, se on þæs cynges hyrede
W. wæs, swa swa his fæder hine ures cynges fæder ær to gisle
geseald hæfde, and her swa syððan belaf, he to þam cynge
com, and swilce getrywða dyde, swa se cyng æt him habban
wolde.” So Florence; “Quibus auditis, filius regis Malcolmi,
Dunechan, regem Willelmum, cui tunc militavit, ut ei regnum
sui patris concederet petiit, et impetravit, illique
fidelitatem juravit.” William of Malmesbury (v. 400) perhaps
goes a step too far in saying that William “Duncanum … regem
Scottorum mortuo patre constituit.” Fordun (v. 24) takes
care to leave out the homage; Duncan is “ejus [Willelmi]
auxilio suffultus;” that is all.
[72] Chron. Petrib. 1093. “And swa mid his unne to Scotlande
fór, mid þam fultume þe he begytan mihte, _Engliscra and
Frenciscra_ [see note, vol. i. p. 30], and his mæge Dufenal
þes rices benam, and to cynge wærð underfangen.” So
Florence; “Ad Scottiam cum multitudine Anglorum ac
Normannorum properavit.”
[73] “Ac þa Scottas hi eft sume gegaderoden, and forneah
ealle his mænu ofslogan, and he sylf mid feawum ætbærst.” So
Florence.
[74] “Syððan hi wurdon sehte on þa gerád, þæt he næfre eft
_Englisce ne Frencisce_ into þam lande ne gelogige.” So
Florence; “Post hæc illum regnare permiserunt, ea ratione ut
amplius in Scottiam nec Anglos nec Normannos introduceret,
sibique militare permitteret.” Mr. Robertson (i. 158) fixes
the date of this revolution to May, 1094, which is very
likely in itself. But it seems to come from the confused
statement of Fordun (v. 24) that Donald reigned six months
(November 1093-May 1094), and then Duncan a year and six
months, which is a year wrong anyhow.
[75] See Robertson, i. 158, without whose help I might not
have recognized a Mormaor in the person described by Fordun
(u. s.) as “comes de Mesnys, nomine Malpei, Scottice
Malpedir.” William of Malmesbury (v. 400) witnesses to the
share of Eadmund, “qui Duvenaldi patrui nequitiæ particeps,
fraternæ non inscius necis fuerit, pactus scilicet regni
dimidium.” See above, p. 22.
[76] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Ðises geares eac þa Scottas heora
cyng Dunecan besyredon and ofslogan, and heom syððan eft
oðre syðe his fæderan Dufenal to cynge genamon, þurh þes
lare and totihtinge he wearð to deaðe beswicen.” So
Florence; “Interim Scotti regem suum Dunechan, et cum eo
nonnullos, suasu et hortatu Dufenaldi per insidias
peremerunt, et illum sibi regem rursus constituerunt.”
Fordun adds the place of his death and burial; “Apud
Monthechin [Monachedin on the banks of the Bervie, says Mr.
Robertson] cæsus interiit et insula Iona sepultus.”
[77] See vol. i. p. 474.
[78] Orderic (703 A, B) brings in his account of the
rebellion of Earl Robert with a general remark on the pride
and greediness of the Normans who had received large estates
in England. He then describes their dissatisfaction with the
rule of William Rufus in words which are not altogether
discreditable to the King; “Invidebant quippe et dolebant
quod Guillelmus Rufus audacia et probitate præcipue vigeret,
nullumque timens subjectis omnibus rigide imperaret.” That
is to say, such justice and such injustice as he did――and in
the case of Robert of Mowbray we shall find him doing
justice――were both dealt out without respect of persons.
Orderic does not specially mention the hunting-laws; but
William of Malmesbury (iv. 319) speaks of their harshness,
and adds, “Quapropter multa severitate quam nulla condiebat
dulcedo, factum est ut sæpe contra ejus salutem a ducibus
conjuraretur.” He then goes on to speak of Robert of
Mowbray. I hardly see the ground for the word “sæpe.”
[79] Hen. Hunt. vii. 4. “Robertus consul Nordhymbra, in
superbiam elatus, quia regem Scottorum straverat.”
[80] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 654.
[81] See vol. i. pp. 249, 256.
[82] See above, p. 16.
[83] See the extract from the Chronicles in p. 55, note 2.
[84] He is on the list in Florence, 1096.
[85] Ord. Vit. 704 C. See vol. i. p. 33.
[86] So says Florence, 1095. “Northymbrensis comes Rotbertus
de Mulbrei et Willelmus de Owe, cum multis aliis, regem
Willelmum regno vitaque privare, et filium amitæ illius,
Stephanum de Albamarno, conati sunt regem constituere, sed
frustra.” On the pedigree, see N. C. vol. ii. p. 632.
[87] See vol. i. p. 279.
[88] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 576.
[89] Ord. Vit. 703 C. “Primus cum complicibus suis futile
consilium iniit, et manifestam rebellionem sic inchoavit.
Quatuor naves magnæ quas canardos vocant, de Northwegia in
Angliam appulsæ sunt. Quibus Rodbertus et Morellus nepos
ejus ac satellites eorum occurrerunt, et pacificis
mercatoribus quidquid habebant violenter abstulerunt.”
[90] Ib. “Illi autem, amissis rebus suis, ad regem
accesserunt, duramque sui querimoniam lacrimabiliter
deprompserunt.”
[91] Ord. Vit. 703 C. “Qui mox imperiose mandavit Rodberto
ut mercatoribus ablata restitueret continuo. Sed omnino
contempta est hujusmodi jussio, magnanimus autem rex
quantitatem rerum quas amiserant inquisivit, et omnia de suo
eis ærario restituit.”
[92] Chron. Petrib. 1095. “And þa to Eastran heold se cyng
his hired on Winceastre, and se eorl Rodbeard of Norðhymbran
nolde to hirede cuman, and se cyng forðan wearð wið hine
swiðe astyrod, and him to sænde, and heardlice bead, gif he
griðes weorðe beon wolde, þæt he to Pentecosten to hired
come.”
[93] Ib. “On þisum geare wæron Eastron on viii. kal. Ap[~r].
and þa uppon Eastron, on S[~c]e Ambrosius mæsse night, þæt
is ii. noñ Ap[~r]. wæs gesewen forneah ofer eall þis land,
swilce forneah ealle þa niht, swiðe mænifealdlice steorran
of heofenan feollan, naht be anan oððe twam, ac swa þiclice
þæt hit nan mann ateallan ne mihte.”
[94] See vol. i. p. 478.
[95] See vol. i. pp. 527 et seqq.
[96] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 149, 621.
[97] See vol. i. p. 530.
[98] Chron. Petrib. 1095. “Hereæfter to Pentecosten wæs se
cyng on Windlesoran, and ealle his witan mid him, butan þam
eorle of Norðhymbran, forðam se cyng him naðer nolde ne
gislas syllan ne uppon trywðan geunnon, þæt he mid griðe
cumon moste and faran.”
[99] Ib. “And se cyng forði his fyrde bead, and uppon þone
eorl to Norðhymbran fór.” Orderic (703 D) seems also to mark
the presence both of the national force and of mercenaries;
“Tunc rex, nequitiam viri ferocis intelligens, exercitum
aggregavit et super eum validam militiæ virtutem conduxit.”
[100] See vol. i. p. 32.
[101] See the extract in note 1, p. 38. The same seems to be
the idea of the Hyde writer, p. 301; “Malcolmum … bellando
cum toto pene exercitu interfecit, dum bellare contra regem
Willelmum temptat fortuito, ab eo est captus et carceri
mancipatus.”
[102] See vol. i. p. 537. This fact comes out only in the
two letters from Anselm to Walter of Albano; Epp. Ans. iii.
35, 36. In the first he says “quotidie expectamus ut hostes
de ultra mare in Angliam per illos portus, qui Cantuarberiæ
vicini sunt, irruant.” He speaks to the same effect in the
next letter. They were “in periculo vastandi vel perdendi
terram.”
[103] The presence of the Archbishop of York and the
Cardinal comes from the second letter. There the Cardinal
and Anselm part from the King and Thomas. From the former
letter we see that the place was Nottingham.
[104] Ep. iii. 35. “Dominus meus rex ore suo mihi præcepit,
antequam ab illo apud Notingeham discederem, et postquam
Cantuarberiam redii, mihi mandavit per litteras proprio
sigillo signatas, ut Cantuarberiam custodiam, et semper
paratus sim ut quacunque hora nuntium eorum qui littora
maris ob hoc ipsum custodiunt audiero, undique convocari
jubeam equites et pedites, qui accurrentes violentiæ hostium
obsistant.” So in Ep. 36; “Rex mihi præcepit ut illam partem
regni sui in qua maxime irruptionem hostium quotidie
timemus, diligenter custodirem, et quotidie paratus essem
hostibus resistere si irruerent.”
[105] Ord. Vit. 703 D. “Ut rex finibus Rodberti
appropinquavit.”
[106] See vol. i. p. 68.
[107] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Gislebertus de Tonnebrugia, miles
potens et dives, regem seorsum vocavit, et pronus ad pedes
ejus corruit, eique nimis obstupescenti ait,” &c.
[108] See N. C. vol. i. p. 327.
[109] Ord. Vit. 703 D. “Præfato barone indicante, quot et
qui fuerant proditores, agnovit.”
[110] Ib. 704 A. “Delusis itaque sicariis, qui regem
occidere moliti sunt, armatæ phalanges prospere loca
insidiarum pertransierunt.”
[111] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 672.
[112] Ib. p. 667.
[113] Wallsend is often mentioned in the Durham charters,
beginning with the grants of Bishop William to his own
monks; Scriptores Tres, iv. _Wallcar_――that is, in local
language, the meadow by the wall――has got sadly degraded
into _Walker_. See Appendix CC.
[114] On Bamburgh, see Appendix FF.
[115] The Farn Islands, close off Bamburgh, must not be
confounded with Lindisfarn, some way to the north. Bæda
(Vit. Cuthb. 17) carefully distinguishes them; “Farne
dicitur insula medio in mari posita, quæ non, sicut
Lindisfarnensium incolarum regio, bis quotidie accedente
æstu oceani, quem rheuma vocant Græci, fit insula, bis
renudatis abeunte rheumate littoribus contigua terræ
redditur, sed aliquot millibus passuum ab hac semi-insula ad
eurum secreta, et hinc altissimo et inde infinito clauditur
oceano.” See Hist. Eccl. iii. 16, iv. 27, 29, v. 1. It is
spoken of as “insula Farne, quæ duobus ferme millibus
passuum ab urbe [Bamburgh] procul abest.”
[116] See vol. i. p. 291.
[117] Will. Gem. viii. 8. See vol. i. p. 552.
[118] Florence says only, “Moreal vero factæ traditionis
causam regi detexit.” The Chronicler is fuller; “Moreal
wearð þa on þes cynges hirede, and þurh hine wurdon manege,
ægðer ge gehadode and eac læwede, geypte þe mid heora ræde
on þes cynges unheldan wæron.”
[119] Chron. Petrib. 1095. “Þa se cyng sume ær þære tíde hét
on hæftneðe gebringan.”
[120] Ib. “Syððan swiðe gemahlice ofer eall þis land beodan,
þæt ealle þa þe of þam cynge land heoldan, eallswa hi friðes
weorðe beon woldan, þæt hi on hirede to tide wæron.”
[121] The change of place seems clear from the Chronicle.
The entry for 1096 begins; “On þison geare heold se cyng
Willelm his hired to X[~p]es mæssan on Windlesoran, and
Willelm biscop of Dunholme þær forðferde to geares dæge. And
on Octab’ Epyphañ wæs se cyng and ealle his witan on
Searbyrig.” Florence is to the same effect. See vol. i. p.
542.
[122] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 394, 406.
[123] Ib. vol. i. p. 102; vol. v. p. 415.
[124] Ib. vol. v. p. 420.
[125] See N. C. vol. v. p. 408.
[126] The vision of Boso fills the ninth chapter of the
fourth book of Simeon’s Durham history. He sees first, “Per
campum latissimum totius hujus provinciæ indigenas
congregatos, qui equis admodum pinguibus sedentes, et
longas, sicut soliti sunt, hastas portantes, earumque
collisione magnum facientes strepitum, multa ferebantur
superbia.” One might have taken these mounted spearmen for
Normans; but we read, “Multo majori quam priores superbia
secuti sunt Francigenæ, qui et ipsi frementibus equis
subvecti et universo armorum genere induti, equorum
frementium sonitu et armorum collisione immanem late
faciebant tumultum.” Lastly came the worst class of all;
“Deinde per extensum aliquot miliariis campum innumeram
feminarum multitudinem intueor, quarum tantam turbam dum
admirarer, eas presbyterorum uxores esse a ductore meo
didici. Has, inquit, miserabiles et illos qui ad
sacrificandum Deo consecrati sunt, nec tamen illecebris
carnalibus involvi metuerunt, væ sempiternum et gehennalium
flammarum atrocissimus expectat cruciatus.” But how vast
must have been the number of priests in the bishopric, if
their wives, seemingly not on horseback, filled up so much
room. The monks of Durham, on the other hand, were seen in a
beautiful flowery plain, all except two sinners, whose names
are not given, but who were to be reported to the Prior in
order that they might repent.
[127] The nature of the omen does not seem very clear; “In
loco vastæ ac tetræ solitudinis, magna altitudine domum
totam ex ferro fabrifactam aspexi, cujus janua dum sæpius
aperiretur sæpiusque clauderetur, ecce subito episcopus
Willelmus efferens caput, ubinam Gosfridus monachus esset a
me quæsivit.” This monk Geoffrey must surely be the same as
the one we heard of before as concerned in Bishop William’s
former troubles (see vol. i. p. 116). This gives the
confirmation of an undesigned coincidence to that story.
[128] See N. C. vol. iv. p 674.
[129] Ib. vol. v. p. 631.
[130] It is curious that, while the Durham writer implies
the summons by the use of the word “placitum” in the account
of Boso’s vision, he gives no account of the summons in his
own narrative. The gap is filled up by William of
Malmesbury, Gest. Pont. 273; “Non multo post orto inter
ipsum et regem discidio, ægritudine procubuit apud
Gloecestram. Ibi tunc erat curia, et jussus est episcopus
exhiberi, ut causam suam defensaret.” The place of King
William’s sickness in 1093 is here confounded with the place
of Bishop William’s sickness in 1096. But Gloucester was the
right place for holding the Gemót, though it was held at
Windsor.
[131] Will. Malms. u. s. “Cui cum responsum esset
infirmitate detineri quo minus veniret: ‘Per vultum de Luca
fingit se,’ inquit. Enimvero ille vera valitudine correptus
morti propinquabat.”
[132] Sim. Dun. Hist. Eccl. Dun. iv. 10. We have already had
the date of his death in the Chronicle. He died “instante
hora gallicantus.”
[133] See Simeon, u. s., and Will. Malms. Gest. Pont. 273.
The names of the bishops come from Simeon.
[134] Simeon, u. s. “Placuit ergo illis, ut in capitulo
tumulari deberet, quatenus in loco quo fratres cotidie
congregarentur, viso ejus sepulchro, carissimi patris
memoria in eorum cordibus cotidie renovaretur.” William of
Malmesbury speaks to the same effect. But no amount of good
works could save him from being crushed by Wyatt and the
Durham Chapter.
[135] Simeon is eloquent on the grief at his death; “Nullus
enim, ut reor, tunc inter illos erat, qui non illius vitam,
si fieri posset, sua morte redimere vellet.” The puzzling
contradictions as to the character of this bishop follow him
to the grave.
[136] Orderic (704 D) speaks of the “consules et consulares
viri,” who were known to have had a share in the conspiracy,
and were now ashamed of themselves; “Porro hæc subtiliter
rex comperiit, et _consultu sapientum_ hujusmodi viris
pepercit. Nec eos ad judicium palam provocavit, ne furor in
pejus augmentaretur,” &c.
[137] See vol. i. p. 61.
[138] Ord. Vit. 704 C. “Hugonem, Scrobesburensium comitem,
privatim affatus corripuit, et acceptis ab eo tribus
millibus libris, in amicitiam callide recepit.”
[139] Chron. Petrib. 1096. “Þær beteah Gosfrei Bainard
Willelm of Ou þes cynges mæg, þæt he heafde gebeon on þes
cynges swicdome.” So Florence. Stephen’s name is not here
mentioned; but we have already seen (see p. 39) what the
exact charge was, and Odo, Stephen’s father, is
significantly mentioned just after.
[140] The Chronicle seems to make the accuser the
challenger; “And hit him ongefeaht, and hine on orreste
ofercom, and syððan he ofercumen wæs, him het se cyng þa
eagan ut adón, and syþðan belisnian.” But perhaps the
meaning is really the same as in the account of William of
Malmesbury (iv. 319); “Willelmus de Ou, proditionis apud
regem accusatus delatoremque ad duellum provocans, dum se
segniter expurgat, cæcatus et extesticulatus est.” Orderic
says merely, “palam de nequitia convictus fuit,” without
saying how.
[141] Unless anything special was done, or meant to be done,
to Grimbald after the siege of Brionne. See N. C. vol. ii.
pp. 270-273.
[142] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 490, 491, 496.
[143] Ord. Vit. 704 C. “Hoc nimirum Hugone Cestrensium
comite pertulit instigante, cujus sororem habebat, sed
congruam fidem ei non servaverat.”
[144] See his character in N. C. vol. iv. p. 490.
[145] See N. C. vol. v. p. 159.
[146] All the accounts agree as to the punishment. Florence
says specially, “oculos _eruere_ et testiculos abscidere;”
so it was the worst form of blinding. The Hyde writer (301)
employs an euphemism; “Rex oculis privavit et per omnia
inutilem reddidit.”
[147] Chron. Petrib. 1093. “And sume man to Lundene lædde,
and þær spilde.” This last word seems to imply mutilation of
any kind, whether blinding or any other.
[148] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 30.
[149] Their names come over and over again in the Gloucester
Cartulary. See the Index.
[150] Liber de Hyda, 301. “Ernulfus de Hednith [sic],
statura procerus, industria summus, possessionibus
suffultus, apud regem tam injuste quam invidiose est
accusatus.”
[151] Ib. “Denique cum se bello legitimo per unum ex suis
contra unum ex hominibus regis facto defendisset atque
vicisset.”
[152] Liber de Hyda, 301. “Tanto dolore et ira est commotus
ut, abdicatis omnibus quæ regis erant in Anglia, ipso rege
invito et contradicente, discederet.”
[153] Ib. 302. “Vincit Dominus, quare medicus me non
continget, nisi ille pro cujus amore hanc peregrinationem
suscepi.”
[154] Chron. Petrib. 1096. “Ðær wearð eac Eoda eorl of
Campaine, þæs cynges aðum, and manege oðre, belende.”
Florence says; “Comitem Odonem de Campania, prædicti
scilicet Stephani patrem, Philippum Rogeri Scrobbesbyriensis
comitis filium, et quosdam alios traditionis participes, in
custodiam posuit.”
[155] Ib. “And his stiward Willelm hætte se wæs his modrian
sunu, het se cyng on rode ahón.”
[156] Flor. Wig. 1097. “Dapiferum illius Willelmum de
Alderi, filium amitæ illius, traditionis conscium, jussit
rex suspendi.”
[157] Will. Malms. iv. 319. “Plures illa delatio involvit,
innocentes plane et probos viros. Ex his fuit Willelmus de
Alderia, speciosæ personæ homo et compater regis.” So the
Hyde writer (301); “Willelmum etiam de Aldriato, ejusdem
Willelmi dapiferum, de eadem conjuratione injuste, ut aiunt,
accusatum patibulo suspendi præcepit.”
[158] Liber de Hyda, 302. “Erat enim idem corpore et animo
et genere præclarus.”
[159] Ib. “Cum principes dolore permoti … de ejus vita regem
rogassent, volentes eum ter auro et argento ponderare, rex
nullis precibus, nullis muneribus, ab ejus morte potuit
averti.”
[160] Will. Malms. iv. 319. “Is patibulo affigi jussus,
Osmundo episcopo Salesbiriæ confessus, et per omnes
ecclesias oppidi flagellatus est.” The account in the Hyde
Writer is to the same effect as that of William, but
shorter, and without any verbal agreement.
[161] Ib. “Dispersis ad inopes vestibus, ad suspendium nudus
ibat, delicatam carnem frequentibus super lapides
genuflectionibus cruentans.”
[162] Ib. “Tunc dicta commendatione animæ, et aspersa aqua
benedicta, episcopus discessit.”
[163] Ib. “Ille appensus est admirando fortitudinis
spectaculo, ut nec moriturus gemitum, nec moriens produceret
suspirium.”
[164] Will. Gem. viii. 34; Ord. Vit. 814 A.
[165] Ord. Vit. 704 C. “Morellus, domino suo vinculis
indissolubiter injecto, de Anglia mœstus aufugit, multasque
regiones pervagatus pauper et exosus in exsilio consenuit.”
[166] See very emphatically in the Chronicle, 1097.
[167] Will. Malms. iv. 311. “Contra Walenses … expeditionem
movens, nihil magnificentia sua dignum exhibuit, militibus
multis desideratis, jumentis interceptis. Nec tum solum, sed
multotiens, parva illi in Walenses fortuna fuit, quod cuivis
mirum videatur, cum ei alias semper alea bellorum
felicissime arriserit.” This last is hardly true of his
French and Cenomannian campaigns. The writer goes on to
attribute the failure of Rufus in Wales mainly to the nature
of the country, and to say that Henry the First found out
the right way of dealing with the Welsh, by planting the
Flemings in their country.
[168] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Ac þa ða se cyng geseah þæt he
nan þingc his wiiles þær geforðian ne mihte, he ongean into
þison lande fór, and hraðe æfter þam, he be þam gemæron
castelas let gemakian.”
[169] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 478.
[170] Ib. p. 481.
[171] Ib. p. 479.
[172] Ib. p. 396.
[173] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 483, 707.
[174] Ib. p. 483.
[175] See vol. i. p. 164.
[176] “That stubborn British tongue which has survived _two_
conquests,” is, I think, a phrase of Hallam’s.
[177] See vol. i. p. 122, and N. C. vol. iv. p. 489.
[178] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 501.
[179] Ib. p. 676.
[180] Ib. vol. iv. p. 489; v. p. 109.
[181] Ib. vol. ii. p. 708; v. p. 777.
[182] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 501.
[183] See vol. iv. pp. 676, 777.
[184] See vol. i. p. 121.
[185] Ann. Camb. 1088, 1089 [1089-1091]. “Menevia fracta est
a gentilibus insulanis.” The Brut is to the same effect, and
has a warm panegyric on the bishop. The dates in the Welsh
Chronicles are here wrong, but only by the fault of the
editor. The entries are made quite regularly year by year,
and they agree with those in the English writers.
[186] Brut y Tywysogion, 1089; it should be 1092.
[187] Will. Malms. iv. 310. “Quod eum Scottorum et Walensium
tumultus vocabant, in regnum se cum ambobus fratribus
recepit.” See vol. i. p. 295.
[188] See Appendix GG.
[189] See Appendix GG.
[190] The descendants of Jestin appear very clearly in
Giraldus, It. Camb. i. 6 (vol. vi. p. 69); “Quatuor Caradoci
filii Jestini filiis, et Resi principis ex sorore nepotibus,
his in finibus herili portione, sicut Gualensibus mos est,
pro patre dominantibus, Morgano videlicet, et Mereducio,
Oeneo, Cadwallano.” Morgan appears soon after (p. 69) as
guiding Archbishop Baldwin and his companion Giraldus over
the dangerous quicksands of his Avon.
[191] See Appendix GG.
[192] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 186.
[193] See vol. i. p. 62.
[194] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 250.
[195] He has an entry to himself in Essex (Domesday, ii. 54
_b_). He appears again in 100 _b_, and in the town of
Colchester (106) he holds “i. domum, et i. curiam, et i.
hidam terræ, et xv. burgenses.” A building with some trace
of Romanesque work used to be shown as “Hamo’s Saxon hall or
curia.” Why more “Saxon” than everything else in that Saxon
land it was not easy to guess. In Ellis he is made to be the
same as “Haimo vicecomes” who appears in Kent and Surrey
(Domesday, 14, 36). This last witnesses a letter of Anselm’s
(Epp. iii. 71) to the monks of Canterbury, along with
another Haimo, “filius Vitalis,” “Wimundus homo
vicecomitis,” and a mysterious “Robertus filius
Watsonis”――what name is meant? In Epp. iv. 57 a letter is
addressed to him by Anselm, complaining of damage done by
his men to the Archbishop’s property at Canterbury and
Sandwich. Or is this “vicecomes” in Kent the same as Haimer
or Haimo――he is written both ways――the “vicecomes” (in
another sense) of Thouars, who plays an important part
before and after the great battle? See N. C. vol. iii. pp.
315, 457, 551.
[196] See vol. i. p. 197.
[197] In this way we may put a meaning on the account in the
Tewkesbury History quoted in N. C. vol. iv. p. 762. Brihtric
had not any honour of Gloucester.
[198] See Ord. Vit. 578 D; William of Malmesbury, Hist. Nov.
i. 3. She was “spectabilis et excellens fœmina, domina tunc
viro morigera, tunc etiam fœcunditate numerosæ et
pulcherrimæ prolis beata.” She was the mother-in-law of his
patron.
[199] See Mr. Clark, Archæological Journal, vol. xxxv. p. 3
(March, 1878).
[200] Will. Malms. v. 398. “Monasterium Theochesbiriæ suo
favore non facile memoratu quantum exaltavit, ubi et
ædificiorum decor, et monachorum charitas, adventantium
rapit oculos et allicit animos.”
[201] See the Gloucester History, i. 93, 122, 223, 226, 334,
349; ii. 125. The gift of the church of Saint Cadoc at
Llancarfan is mentioned over and over again. At i. 334 there
is an alleged confirmation of this gift by William the
Conqueror in 1086. Can this be trusted so far as to make us
carry back the conquest of Glamorgan into his day, or are we
to suppose that a wrong date has crept in? In the
Monasticon, ii. 67, is a charter of Nicolas Bishop of
Llandaff (1148-1153) confirming the grants of a crowd of
churches in Glamorgan to the abbey of Tewkesbury. Among them
is “ecclesia de Landiltwit,” that is Llaniltyd or Llantwit
Major.
[202] See Mr. Clark, Archæological Journal, xxxiv. 17.
[203] See Mr. Clark. Archæological Journal, xxxiv. 25.
[204] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 676.
[205] In the second Brut he appears as Wiliam de _Lwndwn_ in
1088 (p. 72), Wiliam de _Lwndrys_ in 1094 (p. 78).
[206] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 782.
[207] See Mr. Clark, Archæological Journal, xxxiv. pp. 22,
30.
[208] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 854, xxxix.
[209] See the Margam Annals, 1130 (Ann. Mon. i. 13), and
Mon. Angl. v. 258.
[210] Margam Annals, 1147; Ann. Mon. i. 14.
[211] See vol. i. p. 34.
[212] See the wonderful story in Giraldus, It. Camb. i. 2
(vol. vi. p. 32).
[213] Ib. p. 36. The wonders of the lake, now known as
Llangorse pool, fill up more than two pages.
[214] Chron. de Bello, 34. He is described as “vir
magnificus Bernardus cognomento de Novo Mercato.” His gift
is “ecclesia … sancti Johannis Evangelistæ extra munitionem
castri sui de Brecchennio sita.” But the gift was made only
“ejusdem prædictæ ecclesiæ Belli monachi, nomine Rogerii,
apud eum aliquamdiu forte commanentis, importuna
suggestione.”
[215] We have seen (see vol. i. p. 34) Bernard spoken of as
son-in law of the old enemy Osbern of Herefordshire. Could
Osbern have married the elder Nest, perhaps as a second
wife? Or was the younger Nest a second wife of Bernard?
[216] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 679; vol. iii. pp. 710, 777.
[217] See the story in Giraldus, It. Camb. ii. 2 (vol. vi.
p. 29). The son was disinherited, and the honour of
Brecknock passed to the husband of the daughter, whom her
mother allowed to be Bernard’s child. He speaks of her as
“Nesta nomine, quam Angli vertendo _Anneis_ vocavere.” In
the Battle Chronicle (35) she appears as a benefactress by
the name of _Agnes_. She gave to Battle “de propria
hereditate quamdam villulam extra Walliam in Anglia sitam
[in Herefordshire], quæ Berinton vocatur.” She gave it
“forte invalitudine tacta.”
[218] See above, p. 78.
[219] Brut y Tywysogion, 1091 (1093). “And then fell the
kingdom of the Britons.” (Teyrnas y Brytanyeit.) Florence,
recording the same event, adds; “Ab illo die regnare in
Walonia reges desiere;” but he himself in 1116 says, “Owinus
rex Walanorum occiditur.” Cf. Ann. Camb. in anno, where the
royal title is not given to Owen. Indeed in the present
entry the Annals call Rhys only “rector dextralis partis;”
that is, of South Wales.
[220] See vol. i. p. 121.
[221] Ann. Camb. 1091 (1093). “Post cujus obitum Cadugaun
filius Bledint prædatus est Demetiam pridie kalendarum
Maii.”
[222] Brut y Tywysogion. So Ann. Camb. “Circiter Kalendas
Julii Franci primitus Demetiam et Keredigean tenuerunt, et
castella in eis locaverunt, et abinde totam terram Britonum
occupaverunt.”
[223] On the beavers in the Teif, see a long account in
Giraldus, It. Camb. ii. 3. Cp. Top. Hib. i. 26. He discusses
the lawfulness of eating the beaver’s tail on fast-days,
without coming to so decided a conclusion as when he rules
(Top. Hib. i. 15) that the barnacle might not be eaten.
[224] It is very hard to put Irish kings in their right
places; but there is no doubt that this Murtagh――I take the
shortest way of spelling his name――is the same as the
Murtagh of Connaught, head King of Ireland, though Giraldus
calls him King of Leinster, of whom we shall hear a good
deal before long.
[225] It. Camb. ii. 1 (vi. 109). “Rex Rufus … Kambriam suo
in tempore animose penetrans et circumdans, cum a rupibus
istis Hiberniam forte prospiceret, dixisse memoratur: Ad
terram istam expugnandam, ex navibus regni mei huc
convocatis, pontem adhuc faciam.” The Irish king, when he
hears, “cum aliquamdiu propensius inde cogitasset, fertur
respondisse: Numquid tantæ comminationis verbo rex ille ‘Si
Deo placuerit’ adjecit?”
[226] See vol. i. p. 166.
[227] It. Camb. u. s. “Tanquam prognostico gaudens
certissimo, Quoniam, inquit, homo iste de humana tantum
confidit potentia, non divina, ejus adventum non formido.”
[228] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 676.
[229] Ib. p. 526.
[230] On Bishop Wilfrith, see N. C. vol. v. p. 209, and vol.
i. p. 534. We shall hear of him again.
[231] I refer to such names as Hasgard and Freystrop. The
_fords_ in this district are of course _fiords_. The names
of Hereford and Haverfordwest have sometimes been
confounded, but the _ford_ comes from a different quarter in
the two names.
[232] See N. C. vol. v. p. 75.
[233] He does justice to his birthplace in It. Camb. i. 12
(vol. vi. p. 92), and proves by a _sorites_ “ut Kambriæ
totius locus sit hic amœnissimus.” “Pembrochia” here appears
as part of Demetia.
[234] Sir Rhys ap Thomas, the hero of Carew (Caerau) in
Henry the Seventh’s time, is chiefly of local fame. But his
name has made its way into general history. See Hall’s
Chronicle, p. 410, and several other places.
[235] It. Camb. i. 12 (vol. vi. p. 89). “Provincia
Pembrochiensis principale municipium, totiusque provinciæ
Demeticæ caput, in saxosa quadam et oblonga rupis eminentia
situm, lingua marina de Milverdico portu prosiliens in
capite bifurco complectitur. Unde et Pembrochia _caput
maritimæ_ sonat. Primus hoc castrum Arnulfus de Mungumeri,
sub Anglorum rege Henrico primo, ex virgis et cespite, tenue
satis et exile construxit.” The date is of course wrong, as
the castle of Pembroke appears both in the Annales Cambriæ
and in the Brut in 1094, and as Giraldus himself describes
the castle as in being soon after the death of Rhys ap
Tewdwr. He perhaps confounds Arnulf’s first rude work with
the stronger castle built by Gerald on the same site in
1105. This, according to the Brut, was fortified with a
ditch and wall and a gateway with a lock on it.
[236] Giraldus describes his namesake, the husband of his
grandmother, as “vir probus prudensque, Giraldus de
Windesora, constabularius suus [Arnulfi] et primipilus.”
[237] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 482.
[238] I have discussed this matter at length in Appendix BB.
(p. 851) of the fifth volume of the Norman Conquest. Miss
Williams (History of Wales, p. 209), like Sir Francis
Palgrave, knows more about Nest than I can find in any book.
But the tale in the Brut of her being carried off by Owen in
1106 (see N. C. vol. v. p. 210) is very graphic.
[239] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 501.
[240] So says the Brut, 1094 (1096). Is this William the son
of that Baldwin from whom Montgomery took its Welsh name?
[241] See vol. i. p. 464.
[242] Chron. Petrib. 1094. “Eac on þisum ylcan geare þa
Wylisce men hi gegaderodon, and wið þa Frencisce þe on Walon
oððe on þære neawiste wæron and hi ǽr belandedon, gewinn
úp ahofon, and manige festena and castelas abræcon, and men
ofslogon, and syððan heora gefylce weox, hí hí on ma
todældon. Wið sum þæra dæle gefeaht Hugo eorl of Scrobscire,
and hi aflymde. Ac þeah hweðer þa oðre ealles þæs geares
nanes yfeles ne geswicon þe hi dón mihton.”
[243] Brut y Tywysogion, 1092 (1094). The translation runs;
“Whilst William remained in Normandy, the Britons resisted
the domination of the French, not being able to bear their
cruelty, and demolished their castles in Gwynedd, and
_iterated_ their depredations and slaughters among them.”
The Latin annalist says only; “Britanni jugum Francorum
respuerunt. Wenedociam, Cereticam et Demetiam ab iis et
eorum castellis _emundaverunt_.” Both these writers have
oddly mistaken the state of things in Normandy. One
manuscript of the Annales says that William went into
Normandy, and that the revolt happened, “ibi morante et
fratrem suum expugnante,” while the Brut says more wildly
that “King William Rufus [Gwilim Goch], who first by a most
glorious war prevailed over the Saxons, went to Normandy to
keep and defend the kingdom [teyrnas] of Robert his brother,
who had gone to Jerusalem [Kærcesalem] to fight against the
Saracens and other barbarous nations and to protect the
Christians, and to acquire greater fame.”
[244] Flor. Wig. 1094. “Ad hæc etiam primitus North-Walani,
deinceps West-Walani et Suth-Walani, servitutis jugo, quo
diu premebantur, excusso, et cervice erecta, libertatem sibi
vindicare laborabant. Unde collecta multitudine, castella
quæ in West-Walonia firmata erant frangebant et in
Cestrensi, Scrobbesbyriensi, et Herefordensi provincia
frequenter villas cremabant, prædas agebant, et multos ex
Anglis et Normannis interficiebant.” The names of Gruffydd
and Cadwgan come from the later Brut, which copies Florence
or comes from the same source.
[245] Flor. Wig. 1094. “Fregerunt et castellum in Mevania
insula, eamque suæ ditioni subjiciebant.” This confirms the
statement of the later Brut about the building of the castle
of Aberlleiniog (see p. 97); but he says nothing about
Anglesey here.
[246] “In the wood of Yspwys,” says the Brut.
[247] So both the Annales and the Brut. The name of William
son of Baldwin comes from the Brut two years later.
[248] Brut y Tywysogion, 1092 (1094). “And the people and
all the cattle of Dyved they brought away with them, leaving
Dyved and Ceredigion a desert.”
[249] See vol. i. p. 476.
[250] Ann. Camb. 1095. “Franci devastaverunt Gober et
Kedweli et Stratewi. Demetia, Ceretica, et Stratewi deserta
manent.”
[251] I have no better direct authority for this than the
later Brut, which says under 1094――the chronology is very
confused――that “the Frenchmen led their forces into Gower,
Cydweli, and the Vale of Tywi, and devastated those
countries, and William de Londres [William de Lwndrys] built
a strong castle in Cydweli.”
[252] This comes under the year 1099, and is attributed to
“Harry Beaumont [Harri Bwmwnt].” Is this the Earl of
Warwick? I know no other “Henricus de Bello Monte.”
[253] This is from the same entry in the later Brut. After
mentioning the castles, it is added that Harry Beaumont
“established himself there and brought Saxons from
Somersetshire [Saeson o wlad yr Haf] there, where they
obtained lands; and the greatest usurpation of all the
Frenchmen was his in Gower.” Nothing can be made of this
writer’s dates, even when we accept his facts with a little
trembling.
[254] This account comes only from the younger Brut (79). It
is in fact part of the legend of the conquest of Glamorgan.
But that legend, as we have seen, has elements of truth in
it, and this particular story seems to fit in well with the
general course of events. The men of Morganwg and
Gwaenllwg――that is the modern Wentloog, the land between
Rhymny and Usk――rose and destroyed the castle, Pagan of
Turberville leading them.
[255] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 501.
[256] It is strange that the mention of this great British
success comes only from the English accounts. Just after the
King had left Bamburgh, he heard (Chron. Petrib. 1095) “þæt
þa Wylisce men on Wealon sumne castel heafdon tobroken
Muntgumni hatte, and Hugon eorles men ofslagene, þe hine
healdon sceoldan.”
[257] Chron. Petrib. ib. “He forði oðre fyrde hét fearlice
abannan.”
[258] Ib. “And æfter S[~c]e Michaeles mæsse into Wealan
ferde, and his fyrde toscyfte, and þæt land eall þurhfor,
swa þæt seo fyrde eall togædere com to Ealra Halgena to
Snawdune. Ac þa Wylisce a toforan into _muntan_ and moran
ferdan, þæt heom man to cuman ne mihte.” On the use of the
word _muntas_ see N. C. vol. v. p. 517.
[259] Ib. “And se cyng þa hamweard gewende, forþam he geseah
þæt he þær þes wintres mare don ne mihte.”
[260] Ann. Camb. 1095. “Mediante autumno rex Anglorum
Willielmus contra Britones movit exercitum, quibus Deo
tutatis, vacuus ad sua rediit.”
[261] Ann. Camb. 1096. “Willielmus filius Baldewini in
domino (?) Ricors obiit, quo mortuo castellum vacuum
relinquitur.”
[262] Brut y Tywysogion, 1094 (1096). The words are most
emphatic in the manuscript of the Annales quoted as C;
“Britones Brecheniauc et Guent et Guenliauc jugum Francorum
respuunt.”
[263] Chron. Petrib. 1096. “Eac on þison geare þa heafod men
þe þis land heoldan oftrædlice fyrde into Wealon sendon, and
mænig man mid þam swiðe gedrehtan, ac man þær ne gespædde,
butan man myrringe and feoh spillinge.”
[264] Ann. Camb. C. “Franci exercitum movent in Guent, et
nihil impetrantes vacui domum redeunt, et in Kellitravant
versi sunt in fugam.” The name of the place is given in the
text of the Annals as “Celli Darnauc;” the Brut as “Celli
Carnant.” I do not know its site.
[265] Ib. “Iterum venerunt in Brechinauc et castella
fecerunt in ea, sed in reditu apud Aberlech versi sunt in
fugam a filiis Iduerth filii Kadugaun.” The Brut gives their
names as Gruffydd and Ivor.
[266] So says the Brut, 1094 (1096).
[267] These details of the siege of Pembroke come from
Giraldus, It. Camb. i. 12. As he has mistaken the date of
the whole matter by putting it in the reign of Henry, so he
has mistaken the special date of the siege, which he places
soon after the death of Rhys ap Tewdwr, that is in 1093. His
stories may belong to the movement of 1094; but they seem to
come more naturally here. When the knights have deserted,
“ex desperatione scapham intrantes navigio fugam
attemptassent, in crastino mane Giraldus eorum armigeris
arma dominorum cum feodis dedit, ipsosque statim militari
cingulo decoravit.”
[268] They are brought “ad ultimam fere inediam.” Then
Gerald, “ex summa prudentia spem simulans et solatia
spondens, quatuor qui adhuc supererant bacones a
propugnaculis frustatim ad hostes projici fecit.”
[269] Ib. “Die vero sequente ad figmenta recurrens
exquisitiora, literas sigillo suo signatas coram hospitio
Menevensis episcopi, cui nomen Wilfredus, qui forte tunc
aderat, tanquam casu a portitore dilapsas inveniri
procuravit.” I suppose this means that the Bishop was in a
house outside the besieged castle; otherwise it is not clear
how the Welsh could have got hold of the letter. It seems
also to imply that the Bishop was on friendly terms with the
besieged. But the whole story is a little dark.
[270] Ib. “Quo per exercitum literis lectis audito, statim
obsidione dispersa ad propria singuli sunt reversi.”
Directly after――“nec mora”――Gerald marries Nest. If we could
at all trust her grandson’s chronology, this would throw
some light on her relation to Henry.
[271] Ann. Camb. 1096. “Penbrochiam devastaverunt et
incolumes domum redierunt.” The cattle come from the Brut.
[272] Ann. Camb. 1097. “Geraldus _præfectus_ de Penbroc
Meneviæ fines devastavit.” In the other manuscript he is
_dapifer_, and in the Brut _ystiwart_.
[273] See vol. i. p. 572.
[274] Ib.
[275] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Se cyng Willelm … mid mycclum
here into Wealon ferde, and þæt land swiðe mid his fyrde
þurhfór, þurh sume þa Wyliscean þe him to wæron cumen, and
his lædteowas wæron.” Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 37), to whom the
details of a Welsh war did not greatly matter, makes
overmuch of these seeming successes; “Rex … super Walenses
qui contra eum surrexerant excercitum ducit, eosque post
modicum in deditionem suscipit, et pace undique potitus
est.”
[276] See vol. i. p. 582.
[277] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Ða Wylisce men syððon hi _fram_
þam cynge gebugon.”
[278] Ib. “Heom manege ealdras of heom sylfan gecuron. Sum
þæra wæs Caduugaun gehaten, þe heora weorðast wæs: se wæs
Griffines broðer sunu cynges.” On the use of “sum,” see
Earle, Parallel Chronicles, p. 357. It is surely a little
hard when Giraldus (It. Camb. i. 2. p. 28) speaks of his
grandmother’s grandfather as one “cujus tyrannis totam
aliquamdiu Gualliam oppresserat.”
[279] See N. C. vol. i. p. 506.
[280] Ib. vol. ii. p. 396.
[281] Ib. p. 399.
[282] Flor. Wig. 1097. “Post pascha”――he seems to have mixed
up the two expeditions of the year――“cum equestri et
pedestri exercitu secundo profectus est in Waloniam, ut
omnes masculini sexus internecioni daret; at de eis vix
aliquem capere aut interimere potuit.” Cf. N. C. vol. ii. p.
481.
[283] The Brut here waxes so spirited that one is sorry not
to have a better knowledge of the original. “The French
dared not penetrate the rocks and the woods, but hovered
about the level plains. At length they returned home empty,
without having gained anything; and the Britons, happy and
unintimidated, defended their country.” The Annals say,
“Willelmus rex Angliæ secundo in Britones excitatur, eorum
omnium minans excidium; Britones vero divino protecti
munimine in sua remanent illæsi, rege vacuo redeunte.” The
other MS. has, “nihil impetrans vacuus domum rediit.”
[284] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Þærinne wunode fram middesumeran
forneah oð August.”
[285] Ib. “And mycel þærinne forleas on mannan and on horsan
and eac on manegan oðran þingan.” Florence softens a little;
“De suis nonnullos, et equos perdidit multos.”
[286] See vol. i. pp. 572, 575.
[287] See above, p. 71.
[288] See vol. i. p. 583.
[289] See above, p. 9.
[290] See above, p. 30.
[291] On the story of Godwine and Ordgar, see Appendix HH.
[292] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 620.
[293] Fordun, v. 22 (vol. i. p. 221, Skene). “Fit mox hinc
inde magnus armorum apparatus, pugnaturi conveniunt; Orgarus
favore regis elatus, regiis satellitibus hinc inde vallatus,
insignibus etiam armorum ornamentis splendidus procedit.”
[294] Ib. “Silentio per præconem omnibus imposito, et vadiis
utrorumque a judice in certaminis locum projectis, ut Deus,
secretorum cognitor, hujus causæ veritatem ostenderet,
proclamante, postremo res armis, et causa superno judici
committitur.”
[295] There is no need to go through all the details. The
strangest is when the hilt of Godwine’s sword breaks off;
the blade drops; he picks it up, but naturally cannot use it
without cutting his fingers. It is an odd coincidence that
his son drops his whole sword in his exploit at Rama.
[296] Fordun, v. 22. “Abstracto namque cultro qui caliga
latebat, ipsum perfodere conatur; cum ante initum congressum
juraverit se nihil nisi arma decentia militem in hoc duello
gestaturum.”
[297] “Mox perjurii pœnas persolvit. Cultro siquidem erepto,
cum spes reum desereret, crimen protinus confitetur. Attamen
hæc confessio nihil ad vitam illi profuit elongandam,
undique vero, vulnere succedente vulneri, perfodebatur,
donec animam impiam vis doloris et magnitudo vulnerum
expelleret.”
[298] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 561, 893.
[299] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Ða uppon S[~c]e Michaeles mæssan
iiii. noñ Octobre, ætywde án selcuð steorra, on æfen
scynende, and sona to setle gangende. He wæs gesewen
suðweast, and se leoma þe him ofstód wæs swiðe lang geþuht,
suðeast scinende, and forneah ealle þa wucan on þas wisan
ætywde, manige men leton þæt hit cometa wære.” Here the
comet shines very brightly, but it shines alone. William of
Malmesbury (iv. 328) adds; “apparuerunt et aliæ stellæ quasi
jacula inter se emittentes.” (We had shooting stars two
years before; see p. 41.) Florence adds yet another portent;
“Nonnulli signum mirabile et quasi ardens, in modum crucis,
eo tempore se vidisse in cælo affirmabant.”
[300] Both the Chronicler and Florence mark that the
departure of Anselm soon followed the appearance in the
heavens; but it is William of Malmesbury who is most
emphatic; “Ille fuit annus quo Anselmus lux Angliæ, ultro
tenebras erroneorum effugiens, Romam ivit.”
[301] So I should understand the words of the Chronicle,
“ferde Eadgar æþeling mid fyrdes þurh þæs cynge fultum into
Scotlande.” But Florence says that the King “clitonem
Eadgarum ad Scottiam cum exercitu misit.” Fordun (v. 5)
makes him go, “collectis undique ingentibus amicorum copiis,
auxilioque Willelmi regis vallatus.”
[302] See above, p. 111.
[303] Fordun tells this tale (v. 25); the younger Eadgar
tells the vision to the elder, who acts accordingly.
[304] We have surely passed the bounds of history when
Robert, accompanied by two other knights, charges the enemy,
slays the foremost (“fortissimi qui ante aciem quasi
defensores stabant”), puts Donald and the rest to flight,
“et sic incruentam victoriam, Deo propitio, meritis sancti
Cuthberti feliciter obtinuit.” The Chronicler says that
Eadgar “þet land mid stranglicum feohte gewann.”
[305] Fordun, v. 26. “Ab ipso quidem ipse Donaldus captus
est et cæcatus, ac carceri perpetuo damnatur.” “Ipso” is the
younger Eadgar; this treatment of Donald would have been
more pardonable in the elder. See more in Robertson, i. 159.
[306] See Robertson, i. 159, and N. C. vol. i. p. 529; vol.
ii. p. 449; vol. iii. p. 431; vol. iv. p. 170.
[307] See Mon. Angl. v. 163, 165.
[308] Will. Malms. v. 400. “Captus vel perpetuis compedibus
detentus, ingenue pœnituit; et ad mortem veniens, cum ipsis
vinculis se tumulari mandavit, professus se plexum merito
pro fratricidii delicto.” Cf. the burial of Grimbald in N.
C. vol. ii. p. 273.
[309] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Eadgar æþeling … þone cyng
Dufenal út adræfde, and his mæg Eadgar, se wæs Melcolmes
sunu cynges and Margarite þære cwenan, he þær _on þæs cynges
Willelmes heldan_ to cynge sette.” I do not find the words
in Italics represented either by Fordun or by Mr. Robertson.
They are not forgotten by Sir F. Palgrave, English
Commonwealth, ii. cccxxxiv.
[310] The Chronicler tells us that Eadgar “syþþan ongean
into Engleland fór.” And he had just before drawn a vivid
picture of the state of England; “Ðis wæs on eallon þingan
swiðe hefigtyme geár, and ofer geswincfull on ungewederan,
þa man oððe tilian sceolde oððe eft tilða gegaderian, and on
ungyldan þa næfre ne ablunnon.”
[311] Fordun, v. 26.
[312] Ib. This grant is made “episcopo et suis successoribus
Dunelmensibus,” in distinction to the grant of Coldingham,
which was “monachis Dunelmensibus.”
[313] Ib. “De licentia regis ad terram a rege sibi datam in
Laudonia moratus est, et dum castellum ibidem ædificare
niteretur, a provincialibus subito et baronibus tandem
Dunelmensibus circumventus, eodem Ranulfo episcopo agente,
captus est; in qua tamen captione magnam suæ virtutis
memoriam apud totius regionis incolas dereliquit.”
[314] Ib. “Quod rex Edgarus rediens ut audivit, illum ex
præcepto regis Angliæ liberatum, secum in Scociam reduxit
cum honore, et quicquid ante episcopo donaverat, omnino sano
consilio sibimet reservabat.”
[315] See vol. i. p. 564.
[316] See vol. i. p. 269.
[317] This siege and sally is described by William of Tyre,
x. 17, 18, Gesta Dei per Francos, 786.
[318] Will. Malms. iii. 251. “Qui [Baldwinus] cum obsidionis
injuriam ferre nequiret, per medias hostium acies effugit,
solius Roberti opera liberatus præuntis, et evaginato gladio
dextra lævaque Turchos cædentis; sed cum, successu ipso
truculentior, alacritate nimia procurreret, ensis manu
excidit; ad quem recolligendum cum se inclinasset, omnium
incursu oppressus, vinculis palmas dedit.” Cf. iv. 384.
[319] Ib. “Inde Babylonem (ut aiunt) ductus, cum Christum
abnegare nollet, in medio foro ad signum positus, et
sagittis terebratus, martyrium sacravit.”
[320] See vol. i. p. 565.
[321] The story of Robert of Saint Alban’s is told in
Benedict, i. 341, R. Howden, ii. 307.
[322] Fordun, v. 26. “Erat autem iste rex Edgarus homo
dulcis et amabilis, cognato suo regi sancto Edwardo per
omnia similis, nihil durum, nihil tyrannicum aut amarum in
suos exercens subditos, sed eos cum maxima caritate,
bonitate, et benevolentia rexit et correxit.”
[323] See Robertson, i. 163. The passage in Æthelred of
Rievaux to which he refers comes in the speech of Robert of
Bruce to David (X Scriptt. 344; see N. C. vol. v. p. 269).
It seems to imply that David needed English help to keep his
principality. “Tu ipse rex cum portionem regni quam idem
tibi frater moriens delegavit, a fratre Alexandro
reposceres, nostro certe terrore quidquid volueras sine
sanguine impetrasti.”
[324] Mr. Robertson gives her the name of Sibyl. William of
Malmesbury, v. 400, gives an odd account of her; “Alexandrum
successorem Henricus affinitate detinuit, data ei in
conjugium filia notha; de qua ille viva nec sobolem, quod
sciam, tulit nec ante se mortuam multum suspiravit; defuerat
enim fœminæ, ut fertur, quod desideraretur, vel in morum
modestia, vel in corporis elegantia.” I cannot find her in
the list of Henry’s daughters in Will. Gem. viii. 29.
[325] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 602; vol. v. p. 209.
[326] See Robertson, i. 172.
[327] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 237, 238.
[328] See Robertson, i. 123 et seqq.
[329] See N. C. vol. v. p. 305.
[330] Ib. pp. 260-263.
[331] Ib. p. 267.
[332] See above, p. 109.
[333] Eadwine, as Bæda witnesses (ii. 5), held the two
_Mevaniæ_. But _Mona_ appears as Welsh whenever the island
is spoken of in either British or English Chronicles.
Nennius (or the writer who goes by that name) has a heading
(Mon. Hist. Brit. 52 D) of “Monia insula quæ Anglice
Englesei vocatur, id est, insula Anglorum.” In our
Chronicles it is _Mon-ige_ in the year 1000. Our present
story (1098) happens “innan Anglesege.”
[334] I get this phrase from the elder Brut, but I follow
the order of events in the Annales Cambriæ, 1098. “Omnes
Venedoti in Mon insula se receperunt, et ad eos tuendos de
Hibernia piratas invitaverunt, ad quos expugnandos missi
sunt duo consules, Hugo comes urbis Legionum, et alter Hugo,
qui contra insulam castrametati sunt.”
[335] One manuscript of the Annals has “Gentiles de
Ybernia.” See vol. i. pp. 121, 122.
[336] They are “Hugi Prúdi oc Hugi Digri” in the Saga
(Johnstone, p. 234). In the younger Brut, p. 84, the earls
are called “Huw iarll Caerllion a Huw goch [red] o’r
Mwythig.” By Caerleon is of course meant Chester. The elder
Brut confounds the two earls. The bulk of Earl Hugh of
Chester we have long known. In Orderic’s account (768 B) he
is “Hugo Dirgane, id est, Grossus.”
[337] See above, p. 97.
[338] See vol. i. p. 124.
[339] The priory of Penmon was described in 1849 by Mr.
Longueville Jones in three articles in the Archæologia
Cambrensis, vol. iv. pp. 44, 128, 198, and in an earlier
article in the Archæological Journal, i. 118. The date of
the original building cannot be very far off either way from
the times with which we are dealing. The tower-windows are a
kind of transition from Primitive Romanesque to Norman. A
doorway of later Norman character seems to be an insertion.
[340] There is a minute description of the castle, by Mr.
Longueville Jones, in Archæologia Cambrensis iii. 143. The
building of a castle at this time is distinctly asserted in
one manuscript of the elder Brut. But the other Brut under
1096 speaks of Earl Hugh of Chester as already lord of
Aberlleiniog (Arglwydd Aberlleiniawc).
[341] One manuscript of the Annals (1098 C) seems to make
them builders of the castle; “Gentiles pretio corrupti
consules in insulam introduxerunt et castra ibi fecerunt.”
[342] Ann. Camb. u. s. “Relicta insula, Hiberniam
aufugerunt.” The elder Brut adds that it was “for fear of
the treachery of their own men.”
[343] Here Florence (1098) comes to our help. “Interea
comites Hugo de Legeceastra et Hugo de Scrobbesbyria
Mevaniam insulam, quæ consuete vocatur Anglesege, cum
exercitu adierunt, et multos Walanorum quos in ea ceperunt
occiderunt, quosdam vero, manibus vel pedibus truncatis
testiculisque abscisis, excæcaverunt.”
[344] Giraldus, It. Camb. ii. 7 (vi. 129 ed. Dimock). “Est
in hac insula ecclesia sancti Tevredauci confessoris, in qua
comes Hugo Cestrensis, quoniam et ipse fines hos Kambriæ suo
in tempore subjugaverat, cum canes nocte posuisset, insanos
omnes mane recepit, et ipsemet infra mensem miserabiliter
exstinctus occubuit.” The two Hughs are here confounded, as
Hugh of Chester was certainly not killed. But the story of
the hounds sounds specially like him, as he seems to have
been even more given to the chase than other men of his day.
See N. C. vol. iv. p. 491.
A little earlier in the same chapter Giraldus has a tale
about Hugh of Shrewsbury and a wonderful stone, which must
belong to this same expedition, though Giraldus places it in
the time of Henry the First.
[345] Flor. Wig. 1098. “Quendam etiam provectæ ætatis
presbyterum, nomine Cenredum, a quo Walani in iis quæ
agebant consilium accipiebant, de ecclesia extraxerunt, et
ejus testiculis abscisis et uno oculo eruto, linguam illius
absciderunt.”
[346] Ib. “Die tertia, miseratione divina illi reddita est
loquela.” See Milman, Latin Christianity, i. 332, 478.
[347] Florence, directly after, notes that Hugh of
Shrewsbury “die vii. quo crudelitatem in præfatum exercuerat
presbyterum, interiit.”
[348] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 122, 663, 684.
[349] Ord. Vit. 767 B. “De legali connubio Eustanum et
Olavum genuit, quibus regnum magnamque potentiam dimisit.
Tertium vero, nomine Segurd, Anglica captiva sed nobilis ei
peperit, quem Turer, Inghevriæ filius, regis Magni
nutritius, nutrivit.” The Saga however (Laing, 339) calla
Eystein “the son of a mean mother,” and gives the name of
Sigurd’s mother as Thora.
[350] See Ord. Vit. 812.
[351] Compare the story of Turgot in N. C. vol. iv. p. 662.
[352] Ib. 143, 317, 754.
[353] See vol. i. p. 14.
[354] The only mention of Harold the son of Harold which I
have come across occurs in William of Malmesbury’s account
(iv. 329) of the invasion of Magnus, where “rex Noricorum
Magnus cum Haroldo filio Haroldi regis quondam Angliæ,
Orcadas insulas et Mevanias, et si quæ aliæ in oceano
jacent, armis subegit.”
[355] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 326.
[356] Ib. vol. ii. p. 481.
[357] Ib. vol. iii. pp. 476, 487. Roger of Montgomery was in
command of the French contingent, though it is the personal
exploits of Robert of Meulan which are specially spoken of.
[358] Ord. Vit. 767 D. “Hic filiam regis Irlandæ uxorem
duxerat. Sed quia rex Irensis pactiones quas fecerant non
tenuerat, Magnus rex stomachatus filiam ejus ei remiserat.
Bellum igitur inter eos ortum est.”
[359] Laing, iii. 133. This is placed after the death of
Earl Hugh.
[360] See Appendix II.
[361] See N. C. vol. iii. pp. 347, 373.
[362] Chron. Manniæ, 4. “Scotos vero ita perdomuit, ut
nullus qui fabricaret navem vel scapham ausus esset plus
quam tres clavos inserere.” Mr. E. W. Robertson (i. 165)
adds; “Such are the words of the Chronicle; their exact
meaning I do not pretend to understand.” Neither do I, but
Mr. Robertson was more concerned in the matter than I am.
[363] Chron. Man. p. 4. His repentance is thus described;
“Post hæc Lagmannus, pœnitens quod fratris sui oculos
eruisset, sponte regnum suum dimisit, et signo crucis
dominicæ insignitus, iter Jerosolimitanum arripuit, quo et
mortuus est.” This is singularly like the story of Swegen
the son of Godwine.
[364] Chron. Man. 5. “Omnes proceres insularum, audientes
mortem Lagmanni, miserunt legatos ad Murecardum Obrien,
regem Yberniæ, postulantes ut aliquem virum industrium de
regali stirpe in regem eis mitteret, donec Olavus filius
Godredi cresceret.” Murtagh sends Donald with a great deal
of good advice; but we read that. “postquam ad regnum
pervenit, parvi pendens præcepta domini sui, cum magna
tyrannide abusus est regno, et multis sceleribus
perpetratis, tribus annis enormiter regnavit.” Then the
leaders conspire, and drive him out.
[365] See Appendix II.
[366] Chron. Manniæ, 1098 (p. 5). “Eodem anno commissum est
prœlium inter Mannenses apud Santwat, et aquilonares
victoriam obtinuerunt. In quo bello occisi sunt Other comes
et Macmarus, principes ambarum partium.” From the names,
this sounds like a war between Scandinavians and Celts. May
we translate “aquilonares” by “Northmen,” or does it mean
merely the northern part of the island?
[367] See Appendix II.
[368] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 344.
[369] Ib. vol. iv. p. 520.
[370] See the story in Laing, ii. 347, 352. Ælfgifu of
Northampton, who was then in Norway with her son Swegen (see
N. C. vol. i. p. 480), was naturally inclined to unbelief.
[371] This story is told by the Manx Chronicler, 6.
“Episcopo et clero resistente, ipse rex audacter accessit,
et vi regia aperiri sibi scrinium fecit. Cumque et oculis
vidisset, et manibus attrectasset incorruptum corpus, subito
timor magnus irruit in eum et cum magna festinatione
discessit.” This is singularly like the story of William and
Saint Cuthberht, which I have just referred to.
[372] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 341.
[373] Ib. p. 345.
[374] Laing, iii. 129, 133.
[375] Ib.; Johnstone, 231. “En hann setti eptir Sigurd son
sinn til _höfdingia_ ysir eyonom, oc seck hönom rádoneyti.”
It is as well to have the exact Norsk titles of the governor
and his council.
[376] Johnstone, 232. “Magnus konongr kom Eidi sino vid eyna
Helgo, oc gaf þar grid oc frid öllum mönnum oc allra manna
varnadi.” A not very intelligible story follows, how he
opened the door of the little church, but did not go in, but
at once locked the door and ordered that no one should ever
go in again, which was faithfully obeyed. Here, as ever in
Celtic holy places, we find the group of several churches.
[377] Johnstone, ib.; Laing, iii. 130.
[378] Chron. Man. p. 6. “Galwedienses ita constrinxit, ut
cogeret eos materias lignorum cædere et ad litus portare ad
munitiones construendas.”
[379] Ord. Vit. 767 D. “Hiberniam ingredi voluit; sed,
Irensibus in maritimis littoribus ad bellum paratis, alias
divertit.”
[380] Ib. “Insulam Man, quæ deserta erat, inhabitavit,
populis replevit, domibus et aliis necessariis ad usus
hominum graviter instruxit.”
[381] Chron. Man. 6. “Cum applicuisset ad insulam sancti
Patricii, venit videre locum pugnæ, quam Mannenses paulo
ante inter se commiserant, quia adhuc multa corpora
occisorum inhumata erant. Videns autem insulam pulcherrimam,
placuit in oculis ejus, eamque sibi in habitationem elegit,
munitiones in ea construxit, quæ usque hodie ex ejus nomine
nuncupantur.”
[382] Ord. Vit. 767 D. “Alias quoque Cycladas, in magno mari
velut extra orbem positas, perlustravit, et a pluribus
populis inhabitari regio jussu coegit.”
[383] Ib. “Maritimæ vero plebes, quæ in Anglia littus
infiniti Amphitritis incolebant in boreali climate, ut
barbaricas gentes et incognitas naves viderunt ad se
festinare, præ timore nimio vociferatæ sunt, et armati
quique de regione Merciorum convenerunt.”
[384] Ord. Vit. 767 D. “Quondam princeps militiæ Magni regis
cum sex navibus in Angliam cursum direxit, sed rubeum
scutum, quod signum pacis erat, super malum navis erexit.”
[385] Ib. 768 A. “Maxima multitudo de comitatu Cestræ et
Scrobesburiæ congregata est, et in regione Dagannoth secus
mare ad prœlium præparata est.”
[386] See Appendix II.
[387] See Appendix II.
[388] See Appendix II.
[389] See Appendix II.
[390] See Appendix II.
[391] Ord. Vit. 768 B. “Cujus mortem Magnus rex ut
comperiit, vehementer cum suis planxit, et Hugoni Dirgane,
id est Grosso, pacem et securitatem mandavit. Exercitum,
inquit, non propter Anglos sed Hibernos ago, nec alienam
regionem invado, sed insulas ad potestatem meam pertinentes
incolo.”
[392] Ib. “Normanni tandem et Angli cadaver Hugonis diu
quæsierunt, pontique fluctu retracto, vix invenerunt.”
[393] Ib. “Hic solus de filiis Mabiliæ mansuetus et amabilis
fuit, et iv. annis post mortem Rogerii patris sui paternum
honorem moderatissime rexit.”
[394] Ib.
[395] Johnstone, 236. “Aunguls-ey er þridiongr Brettlandz,”
This is strange measurement even if Wales alone is meant,
much more if by “Brettlandz” we are to understand the whole
isle of Britain.
[396] See Appendix II.
[397] Brut y Tywysogion, 1096. “So the French [y Freinc]
reduced all, as well great as small, to be Saxons [Sæson].”
But in the Latin Annals, 1098, the words are, “Franci vero
majores et minores secum ad Angliam perduxerunt.”
[398] Johnstone, 236; Laing, iii. 132.
[399] The treaty is noticed by the Irish writers. Chronicon
Scotorum, 1098. “A year’s peace was made by Muircertach Ua
Briain with Magnus, King of Lochlann.” On the marriage, see
above, p. 136.
[400] Johnstone, 237. “Oc gaf hönom konongs nafn, oc setti
hann yfir Orkneyar oc oni Sudreyar, oc seck hann i hendur
Hák Pálssyni frænda sinom.”
[401] “Mælkolf Skota konong” he appears in the Norsk text
(236). The ceremony of crossing the isthmus is minutely
described, and it is said that ships were often drawn across
it.
[402] Ord. Vit. 768 C. “Quo [Hugone] defuncto, Robertus
Belesmensis, frater ejus, Guillelmum Rufum requisivit, eique
pro comitatu fratris iii. millia librarum sterilensium
exhibuit. Et comes factus, per quatuor annos immania super
Gualos exercuit.”
[403] Ord. Vit. 768 C. “Angli et Guali, qui jamdudum ferales
ejus ludos quasi fabulam ridentes audierunt, nunc ferreis
ejus ungulis excoriati, plorantes gemuerunt, et vera esse
quæ compererant sentientes experti sunt.”
[404] Ib. “Ipse quanto magis opibus et vernulis ampliatus
intumuit, tanto magis collimitaneis, cujuscunque ordinis
fuerint, auferre fundos suos exarsit, et terras quas prisci
antecessores sanctis dederant, sibi mancipavit.”
[405] Orderic bears him this witness, 766 B, C, in recording
the fortification of Gisors, of which we shall have to speak
presently, “_ingeniosus artifex_ Rodbertus Belesmensis
disposuit.”
[406] See above, p. 100.
[407] See N. C. vol. i. p. 506.
[408] See the Chronicles, 895. In Winchester, Canterbury,
and Abingdon the name is Quatbridge. “Þæt hic gedydan æt
Cwatbrycge be Sæfryn and þæt geweorc worhtan.” Worcester has
“æt Brygce.”
[409] This is distinctly marked by Florence, 1101. “Arcem
quam in occidentali Sabrinæ fluminis plaga, in loco qui
Brycge dicitur lingua Saxonica, Ægelfleda Merciorum domina
quondam construxerat, fratre suo Eadwardo Seniore regnante,
Scrobbesbyriensis comes Rotbertus de Beleasmo, Rogeri
comitis filius, contra regem Heinricum, ut exitus rei
probavit, muro lato et alto summoque restaurare cœpit.” The
work of the Lady is recorded in the Canterbury and Abingdon
Chronicles, 912. “Her cóm Æþelflæd Myrcna hlæfdige on þone
halgan æfen muentione S[~c]e Crucis to Scergeat, and þar ða
burh _getimbrede_, and þæs ilcan géares þa æt Bricge.” It
was therefore not a mere earthwork to be _wrought_, but a
wall of some kind, whether of wood or of stone, to be
_timbered_. This marks the position of Bridgenorth itself as
distinguished from the earthwork at Oldbury.
[410] Domesday, 254. “Ipse comes tenet Ardintone; Sancta
Milburga tenuit T. R. E. Ibi … nova domus, et burgum
Quatford dictum. Nil reddit.”
[411] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 499.
[412] A singular story is preserved in Bromton (X Scriptt.
988). When Earl Roger’s second and better-behaved wife
Adeliza was coming for the first time to England, she was in
danger of shipwreck. Her chaplain, who was on board, had a
vision, in which a certain matron told him that, in order to
lull the storm, his lady must vow to build a church to Saint
Mary Magdalene on the spot where she should first meet her
husband, a spot which was to be marked in a manner not
unknown either at Glastonbury or at Alba Longa; “Præcipue
ubi concava quercus cum tugurio porcorum crescit.” The vow
is made; the Countess meets the Earl hunting; “apud
Quatford, quæ tunc deserta fuit, in loco ubi dicta quercus
crescebat venanti domino suo primo occurrit.” The church was
founded and endowed; but it afterwards became annexed to the
collegiate chapel in the castle at Bridgenorth. Some further
details about this college are given. See also Mon. Angl.
viii. 1463. The foundation at Bridgenorth is attributed to
Robert of Bellême.
[413] Ord. Vit. 768 C. “Oppidum de Quatfort transtulit, et
Brugiam, munitissimum castellum, super Sabrinam fluvium
condidit.”
[414] It appears in Domesday, 255, in the form of
“Aldeberie.”
[415] These windows are a distinct case of traces of the
primitive Romanesque even in a military building, just as in
Oxford Castle. See N. C. vol. v. p. 636.
[416] Just as in the case of Conan at Rouen, we must get rid
of the notion of anybody standing on the top of a flat
tower. An English traveller on the continent is struck by
seeing military towers with high roofs; but it is simply
because in England the roofs have been destroyed.
[417] I have not myself seen this site. Mr. Clark writes to
me; “The township of that name is within the Shropshire
parish of Llan y-mynech but a part of an island of Denbigh.
The site, coveted on account of some silver mines, was
conquered soon after the Great Survey, and annexed to the
palatine earldom of Salop, though after the conquest of
Wales it was transferred to Denbigh. The castle stood upon
Offa’s Dyke, and was protected on the immediate south by the
Vyrnwy, and a mile or two to the west by its tributary the
Tarrat. Three British camps to the north and west show how
at least as early as the Mercian days the position had been
watched.”
[418] His lands in Nottinghamshire (Domesday, 284) cover
more than five pages. At one place, Ættune, we read,
“habuerunt x. taini quisque aulam suam.” In other places,
285, 286, we have entries of the same kind of five thegns,
six thegns, and seven thegns. Land in Nottinghamshire would
seem to have been greatly divided T. R. E. The first entry
in Yorkshire, 319, in “Lastone and Trapum,” we read, “ibi
habuit comes Edwinus aulam; nunc habet Rogerius de Busli ibi
in dominio.” In 320, in Hallun, for which we may read
Sheffield, it is said, “ibi habuit Wallef comes aulam.”
The Norman lordship of Roger is written in many ways; he
appears as “Rogerus de Buthleio,” “de Busli,” and other
forms. In the French Ordnance map the name of the place is
given as _Bully_.
[419] See Domesday, 319, and N. C. vol. iv. p. 290.
[420] Domesday, 320. “Hanc terram habet Rogerius de Judita
comitissa.”
[421] Domesday, 113. This is Sanford in Devonshire, which
had been held by a Brihtric, whether the son of Ælfgar or
any other. “Regina dedit Rogerio cum uxore sua.” Very unlike
lands in Yorkshire, it had doubled its value since
Brihtric’s time.
[422] Domesday, 319. It is “Tyckyll” in Florence, 1102. The
history of the place may be studied in Mr. John Raine’s
History of Blyth.
[423] Bæda, ii. 12. “In finibus gentis Merciorum, ad
orientalem plagam amnis qui vocatur Idlæ.” There Eadwine
smote Æthelfrith. Bæda’s description marks Nottinghamshire
as Mercian.
[424] I have had to mention Blyth in my paper on the Arundel
case in the Archæological Journal, xxxvii. 244 (1880). The
monastic part at the east end is gone, and the effect of the
parochial part strangely changed by later additions. No one
would think from the first glance at the outside that the
nave of a Norman minster lurked there.
There are two notices of Blyth in the Normanniæ Nova
Chronica under 1088 and 1090. The first merely records a
grant of the church to the Trinity monastery (also called
Saint Katharine) at Rouen; “a viro venerabili Rogerio de
Bully et ab Munold [sic] uxore sua.” The second records the
gift a second time, and adds, “ibi constituit xiii.
monachos.” He had had dealings with the house before. In the
cartulary of the monastery, No. xliii. p. 444, he sells the
tithe of Bully [Buslei], “quemadmodum sibi jure hæreditario
competebat,” for threescore and twelve pounds and a horse
(“pro libris denariorum lx. et xii. et i. equo”). The
signatures, besides those of Duke William and Count Robert
of Eu, are mainly local, as “Hernaldi cujus pars decimæ,”
“Huelini de Brincourt,”――Neufchâtel that was to be. Mr. A.
S. Ellis suggests that this sale was to supply the lord of
Bully with the means of crossing in 1066. It is odd that
there is no mention of Blyth in the cartulary.
[425] Compare Florence, 1102, with Orderic, 806 C. No one
without local knowledge would guess that “Blida” and
“Tyckyll” meant the same place.
[426] Ord. Vit. 768 C. “Blidam totamque terrain Rogerii de
Buthleio cognati sui jure repetiit, et a rege grandi pondere
argenti comparavit.” Mr. A. S. Ellis, in a paper reprinted
from the Yorkshire Archæological Journal, headed
“Biographical Notices on the Yorkshire Tenants named in
Doomsday Book,” suggests that what Robert really bought was
the _wardship_ of Roger’s son. The history of the family
will be found in Mr. Raine’s book and in Mr. Ellis’s paper.
[427] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 537.
[428] Ord. Vit. 768 C. “Sicut idem vir multis possessionibus
in terris est locupletatus, sic majori fastu superbiæ sequax
Belial inflatus, flagitiosos et crudeles ambiebat
insatiabiliter actus.” There is no need to take
“flagitiosus” in the special sense.
[429] The authorities for this chapter take in such French
and Cenomannian records as we have. Suger’s Life of Lewis
the Sixth, in the fourth volume of the French Duchèsne,
gives us but few facts as to the French war, but he draws a
vivid general picture. For Maine we have the Lives of
Bishops Howel and Hildebert in the History of the Bishops of
Le Mans in Mabillon’s Vetera Analecta. The accounts there
given have to be compared throughout with the narrative of
the French and Cenomannian wars in Orderic. The strictly
English writers tell us nothing about France, next to
nothing about Maine. Something may be gleaned from the
writers in French rime, as Wace and Geoffrey Gaimar; but
Wace has by no means the same value now which he had during
the actual time of the Conquest.
[430] See N. C. vol. v. p. 99.
[431] See N. C. vol. i. p. 249.
[432] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 130.
[433] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 263.
[434] Lewis is in Suger constantly spoken of as “Dominus
Ludovicus;” special titles for kings’ sons had not yet been
invented.
[435] William of Malmesbury tells the story (iii. 257);
“Pacem cum Philippo rege comparavit [Robertus Friso], data
sibi in uxorem privigna, de qua ille Lodovicum tulit qui
modo regnat in Francia; nec multo post pertæsus connubii
(quod illa præpinguis corpulentiæ esset), a lecto removit,
uxoremque Andegavensis comitis contra fas et jus sibi
conjunxit.” The reason here given for separation seems a
strange one, especially on the part of Philip. Henry the
Eighth, according to some accounts, is said at one stage to
have sought for a wife of his own size. The Queen appears in
Orderic (699 B) as “generosa et religiosa conjux.” It
appears from Geoffrey Malaterra (iv. 8) that Philip next
wished to marry Emma, the daughter of Count Robert of
Sicily; but the trick was found out. It was not easy to
entrap a Sicilian Norman.
[436] This is Orderic’s story. The three wives of Fulk are
carefully reckoned up in the Gesta Consulum (Chroniques
d’Anjou, i. 140) and in the Gesta Ambasiensium Dominorum (i.
191). Bertrada therefore had some reason when we read,
“Bertrada Andegavorum comitissa, metuens ne vir suus quod
jam duabus aliis fecerat sibi faceret, et relicta contemptui
ceu vile scortum fieret, conscia nobilitatis et
pulcritudinis suæ fidissimum legatum Philippo regi Francorum
destinavit, eique quod in corde tractabat, evidenter
notificavit. Malebat enim ultro virum relinquere aliumque
appetere quam a viro relinqui, omniumque patere despectui.”
Some details of the elopement of Bertrada from Tours are
given in the Gesta Consulum, i. 142, and in the acts of the
Lords of Amboise, i. 192. She appears there as “pessima uxor
Fulconis comitis.”
[437] William of Malmesbury (v. 404) lays the blame in a
quarter which we should not have looked for; “Adeo erat
[Philippus] omnibus episcopis provinciæ suæ derisui, ut
nullus eos desponsaret præter Willelmum archiepiscopum
Rotomagensem, cujus facti temeritatem luit multis annis
interdictus, et vix tandem aliquando per Anselmum
archiepiscopum apostolicæ communioni redditus.” (See De
Rémusat, Anselme, 355.) It is hard to have to believe this
of the Good Soul, and one rather takes to Orderic’s version
(699 C); “Odo Baiocensis episcopus hanc exsecrandam
desponsationem fecit, ideoque dono mœchi regis pro
recompensatione infausti famulatus ecclesias Madanti oppidi
aliquamdiu habuit.” Orderic waxes very eloquent on Philip’s
crime.
[438] See his letters in Duchèsne, iv. 2, 3, 4, 7. Ivo
distinctly refuses to have anything to do with the marriage;
but it seems that Philip pretended to have been divorced by
a council under Reginald Archbishop of Rheims.
[439] Betholi Constantiensis Chron., Bouquet, xi. 27, 28.
“1094. In Galliarum civitate quam vulgariter Ostionem
(Augustodunum) dicunt, congregatum est generale concilium a
venerando Hugone Lugdunensi archiepiscopo et sedis
apostolicæ legato cum archiepiscopis, episcopis et abbatibus
diversarum provinciarum xvii. cal. Nov. in quo concilio
renovata est excommunicatio in Heinricum regem et in
Guibertum sedis apostolicæ invasorem et in omnes eorum
complices. Item rex Galliarum Philippus excommunicatus est,
eo quod, vivente uxore sua, alteram superinduxerit.”
[440] Ord. Vit. 669 C. “Permissu tamen præsulum, _quorum
dominus erat_, pro regali dignitate capellanum suum habebat,
a quo cum privata familia privatim missam audiebat.”
[441] Ib. “In quodcunque oppidum vel urbem Galliarum rex
advenisset, mox ut a clero auditum fuisset, cessabat omnis
clangor campanarum, et generalis cantus clericorum.” William
of Malmesbury, v. 404; “Quocirca ab apostolico
excommunicatus, cum in villa qua mansitabat nihil divini
servitii fieret, sed discedente eo, tinnitus signorum
undique concreparent, insulsam fatuitatem cachinnis
exprimebat, ‘Audis,’ inquiens, ‘bella, quomodo nos
effugant.’”
[442] Ord. Vit. u.s. “Quo tempore nunquam diadema portavit,
nec purpuram induit, neque sollennitatem aliquam regio more
celebrabat.”
[443] Her death is recorded in the year 1094 in the
Chronicle of Clarius or of Saint Peter at Sens (D’Achery,
ii. 477), which gives some curious details of the council of
that year, and how the Archbishop of Sens was allowed to sit
on a level with the Archbishop of Rheims.
[444] Ord. Vit. 700 A. “Ludovico filio suo consensu
Francorum Pontisariam et Madantum totumque comitatum
Vilcassinum donavit, totiusque regni curam, dum primo flore
juventutis pubesceret, commisit.”
[445] Ord. Vit. 766 A. “Guillelmus Rufus, ut patris sui
casus et bellorum causas comperit, Philippo Francorum regi
totum Vilcassinum pagum calumniari cœpit, et præclara
oppida, Pontesiam et Calvimontem atque Medantum, poposcit,”
[446] Ib. “Francis autem poscenti non acquiescentibus, imo
prœlianti atrociter resistere ardentibus, ingens guerra
inter feroces populos exoritur, et multis luctuosa mors
ingeritur.”
[447] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “And se cyng þeræfter uppon
S[~c]e Martines mæssan ofer sǽ intó Normandig fór.”
[448] See N. C. vol. v. p. 159.
[449] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Ac þa hwile þe he wederes abád,
his hired innon þam sciran þær hi lágon þone mæston hearm
dydon þe æfre hired oððe here innon friðlande don sceolde.”
[450] See vol. i. p. 154.
[451] It is hardly an exception when William of Malmesbury
(iv. 320) tells the story of William Rufus’ dialogue with
Helias, which belongs to this time, altogether out of place,
and as a mere illustrative anecdote.
[452] Suger, 283 A. “Similiter et dissimiliter inter eos
certabatur, similiter cum neuter cederet, dissimiliter cum
ille maturus, iste juvenculus, ille opulentus et Anglorum
thesaurorum profusor, mirabilisque militum mercator et
solidator; iste peculii expers, patri qui beneficiis regni
utebatur parcendo, sola bonæ indolis industria militiam
cogebat, audacter resistebat.” Orderic (766 A) says, in a
somewhat different strain, “Philippus rex piger et
corpulentus belloque incongruus erat; Ludovicus vero filius
ejus puerili temeritudine detentus, adhuc militare
nequibat.” This strange statement comes before that quoted
in p. 175.
[453] Orderic (766 A) waxes very eloquent on William, his
host, and its captains, how they could have met Cæsar, and
what not. He gives the list in the text, with the notice,
“Robertus Belesmensis princeps militiæ hujus erat, cujus
favor erga regem et calliditas præ cæteris vigebat.”
[454] Suger, 283 A. “Videres juvenum celerrimum, modo
Bituricensium, modo Arvernorum, modo Burgundionum, militari
manu transvolare fines; nec idcirco tardius si ei ignotescat
Vilcassinum regredi, et cum trecentis aut quingentis
militibus præfato regi Guillelmo cum x. millibus fortissime
refragari.”
[455] Suger, 283 A. “Ut dubius se habet belli eventus, modo
cedere, fugare modo.”
[456] Ib. B. “Angliæ captos ad redemptionem celerem
militaris stipendii acceleravit anxietas, Francorum vero
longa diuturni carceris maceravit prolixitas, nec ullo modo
evinculari potuerunt, donec, suscepta ejusdem regis Angliæ
militia, hominio obligati regnum et regem impugnare et
turbare jurejurando firmaverunt.” So Pyrrhos proposed to his
Roman prisoners to enter his service.
[457] Suger (287, 291) has much to say about “Guido de
Rupe-forti, vir peritus et miles emeritus.” In p. 297 he
describes the castle; “Supersistitur promontorio ardui
litoris magni fluminis Sequanæ horridum et ignobile castrum,
quod dicitur Rupes Guidonis, in superficie sui invisibile,
rupe sublimi incaveatum, cui manus æmula artificis in devexo
montis, raro et misero ostio, maximæ domus amplitudinem rupe
cæsa extendit, antrum ut putatur, fatidicum.” He goes on to
quote Lucan. Orderic (766 B) witnesses to Guys treason;
“Guido de Rupe, Anglorum argenti cupidus, eis favit, et
munitiones suas de Rupe et Vetolio dimisit. Sic alii
nonnulli fecerunt, qui suis infidi exteris avide
obtemperaverunt.”
[458] Cf. N. C. vol. iv. p. 200, for the same state of
things at Nottingham. The like may be seen along the banks
of the Loire.
[459] Ord. Vit. 766 B. “Rodbertus comes de Mellento in suis
munitionibus Anglos suscepit, et patentem eis in Galliam
discursum aperuit, quorum bellica vis plurima Francis damna
intulit.” “Angli” here must take in all the subjects of
Rufus. “Gallia,” I need hardly say, is high-polite for
France, and does not take in Normandy.
[460] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 486.
[461] Ord. Vit. 766 B. “Plerique Francorum qui binis
cogebantur dominis obsecundare, pro fiscis quibus abunde
locupletati sub utriusque regia turgebant ditione, anxii
quia nemo potest duobus dominis servire, animis acriorem
opibusque ditiorem elegerunt, et cum suis hominibus
municipiisque favorabiliter paruerunt.”
[462] Among the Norman prisoners Suger (283 A) counts
“Paganum de Gisortio, qui castrum idem primo munivit.”
Orderic (766 C) gives him, like several other people, a
double name; he appears as “Tedbaldus-Paganus de Gisortis.”
This first fortification of Gisors must be that which is
referred to by Robert of Torigny under the year 1096; “Rex
Willermus fecit quoddam castellum, Gisorth videlicet, in
confinio Normanniæ et Franciæ.” See below, p. 190.
[463] Orderic, 766 B. “Guillelmus rex firmissimum castrum
Gisortis construi præcepit, quod usque hodie contra
Calvimontem et Triam atque Burriz oppositum, Normanniam
concludit, cujus positionem et fabricam ingeniosus artifex
Rodbertus Belesmensis disposuit.” See above, p. 151.
[464] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 494.
[465] Ord. Vit. 766 C. “Illi nimirum insignem Francorum
laudem deperire noluerunt, seseque pro defensione patriæ et
gloria gentis suæ, ad mortem usque inimicis objecerunt.”
This is said specially of the knights of the Vexin; “In illa
quippe provincia egregiorum copia militum est quibus
ingenuitas et ingens probitas inest.”
[466] Suger gives the list, 283 A. Orderic (766 C) also
speaks of the captivity of “Tetbaldus-Paganus de Gisortis,”
and some others. Suger calls Gilbert of Laigle “nobilis et
Angliæ et Normanniæ seque illustris baro.” But his English
estates (Domesday 36, ii. 263) in Surrey and Norfolk were
not very large. Another prisoner was “Comes Simon, nobilis
vir;” that is, I suppose, Simon of Senlis, Earl of
Northampton. See N. C. vol. iv. p. 602.
[467] See vol. i. p. 211.
[468] Ord. Vit. 681 B. “Audientes Cenomanni dissidium
Normannorum cogitaverunt fastuosum excutere a se jugum
eorum, quod olim facere multoties conati sunt sub Guillelmo
Magno rege Anglorum. Hoc Robertus dux ut comperiit, legatos
et exenia Fulconi Andegavensium satrapæ destinavit, obnixe
rogans ut Cenonannos a temerario ausu compesceret, ac in
Normanniam ad se graviter ægrotantem veniret.”
[469] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 562. We shall meet him again in
this character.
[470] See above, p. 172. Orderic’s words (681 D) are,
“viventibus adhuc duabus uxoribus tertiam desponsavit.” But
the accounts of the Angevin writers do not bear this out.
[471] Fulk is made to say (Ord. Vit. 681 C), “Amo Bertradam
sobolem Simonis de Monteforti, neptem scilicet Ebroicensis
comitis Guillermi, quam Heluissa comitissa nutrit et sua sub
tutela custodit.” Presently Count William himself speaks of
her as “neptis mea, quæ adhuc tenera virago est, quam
sororius meus mihi commendavit nutriendam.” Here the word
“virago,” the use of which is a little doubtful, seems
equivalent to “virgo,” unless it is meant that Bertrada had
graduated in the school of her aunt. But see Ducange in
_Virago_.
[472] See Appendix C.
[473] Ord. Vit. 681 C. “Si mihi quam valde cupio rem feceris
unam, Cenomannos tibi subjiciam, et omni tempore tibi ut
amicus fideliter serviam.”
[474] Ib. “Radulfus patruus meus, qui pro magnitudine
capitis et congerie capillorum jocose cognominatus est Caput
asini.” We have heard of him as the murderer of Gilbert of
Eu and the guardian of William the Great. See N. C. vol. i.
pp. 196, 202.
[475] See vol. i. p. 220. Orderic gives the list of
counsellors.
[476] See vol. i. pp. 220, 256.
[477] Ord. Vit. 681 D. “Ex consultu sapientum”――Duke Robert
had his Witan――“decrevit dare minora ne perderet majora.”
[478] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 545.
[479] Orderic tells the tale, 683 B, C. “Qui vivente
Guillelmo rege contra eum rebellare multoties conati sunt,
ipso mortuo statim de rebellione machinari cœperunt,
legationem igitur filiis Azsonis marchisi Liguriæ
direxerunt.” Then they set forth their story, “non pro amore
eorum, sed ut aliqua rationabili occasione jugum excuterent
a se Normannorum, quod fere xxx. annis fortiter detriverat
turgidas cervices eorum.”
[480] Orderic (683 C, D) makes “Gaufridus Madeniensis et
Helias aliique cives et oppidani” join in the reception of
Hugh, therefore seemingly in the mission to him. The
biographer of the Bishops (Vet. An. 292) makes the embassy
the work of Geoffrey only.
[481] Orderic draws his outward likeness, 769 D. “Erat
probus et honorabilis, et multis pro virtutibus amabilis.
Corpore præcellebat, fortis et magnus, statura gracilis et
procerus, niger et hirsutus, et instar presbyteri bene
tonsus.”
[482] Ib. “Eloquio erat suavis et facundus, lenis quietis et
asper rebellibus, justitiæ cultor rigidus, et in timore Dei
ad opus bonum fervidus.” He goes on with details of his
devotions. There is another shorter panegyric in 768 D.
[483] Ib. 684 C. Helias there sets forth his own pedigree;
“Filia Herberti comitis Lancelino de Balgenceio nupsit,
eique Lancelinum Radulfi patrem et Johannem meum genitorem
peperit.”
[484] Ib. 769 A. “Generosam conjugem Mathildam filiam
Gervasii accepit, qui Rodberti cognomento Brochardi fratris
Gervasii Remensis archiepiscopi filius fuit.” On Bishop
Gervase see N. C. vol. iii. pp. 193-196.
[485] Ord. Vit. 769 A. “Helias de paterna hereditate
Flechiam castrum possedit, quatuor vero castella de
patrimonio uxoris suæ obtinuit, id est, Ligerim et Maiatum,
Luceium et Ustilliacum.” We shall hear of these places
again.
[486] Not that the department is called from the town, but
from the river.
[487] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 545.
[488] Ord. Vit. 683 C. “Gaufridus Madeniensis et Helias,
aliique cives et oppidani, venientem Hugonem susceperunt,
eique ad obtinendum jus ex materna hereditate competens
aliquamdiu suffragati sunt.”
[489] Ib. B. “Anno ab Incarnatione Domini m.xc. Indictione
xiii. Cenomanni contra Normannos rebellaverunt, ejectisque
custodibus de munitionibus, novum principem sibi
constituerunt.”
[490] See vol. i. p. 205. Cf. N. C. vol. iv. p. 546.
[491] Ord. Vit. 683 D. “In quantum potuit truculentam
recalcitrationem dissuasit, pertinaces verum interdixit,
pontificali jure anathematizavit, et a liminibus sanctæ
matris ecclesiæ sequestravit. Quapropter rebellionis
incentores contra eum nimis irati sunt, et injuriis eum
afficere terribiliter comminati sunt.”
[492] I am here following Orderic, whose account (683 D)
runs thus; “Interea dum per diocesim suam cum clericis suis
equitaret, et episcopali more officium suum sollerter
exerceret, Helias de Flechia eum comprehendit, et in
carcere, donec Hugo in urbe Cenomannica susceptus fuisset,
vinctum præsulem tenuit.” The biographer of the Bishop (Vet.
An. 291) is of course much more angry with Helias, and seems
quite to misconceive the state of things. Very soon after
the death of the Conqueror, Helias seizes Ballon and makes
war on Le Mans; “Surrexit quidam nobilis adolescens, qui
erat de genere Cenomannensium consulum, Helias nomine, et
cœpit calumniari ipsum comitatum, ingressusque castrum quod
Baledonem nominant, regionem undique devastabat, maximeque
adversus civitatis habitatores, qui ei viriliter
resistebant, multis insidiis assiduisque deprædationibus
grassabatur.” The Bishop opposes him in the interest of Duke
Robert, and then, “Quorumdam perversorum consilio, in tantam
prorupit audaciam ut in christum Domini manum mittere,
eumque apud castrum patrimonii sui, quod Fissa dicitur, in
custodia ponere non timeret.” “Fissa” is La Flèche. This
writer says nothing of the message to Hugh till after the
imprisonment of Howel. It is then set on foot by Geoffrey of
Mayenne, who is described as “Ratus se opportunum tempus
invenisse, quo regionem denuo perturbaret.” We must remember
that Orderic is here writing the history of Maine, while the
biographer is merely writing the history of Howel; but for
that very reason we may trust him as to the details of the
Bishop’s imprisonment.
[493] Vet. An. 291. “Clericos suos ita ab ipsius fecit
præsentia removeri, ut cum nullo eorum nec familiare nec
publicum posset habere colloquium, rusticumque presbyterum
ejus obsequio deputavit, ne custodum calliditas Latina
posset confabulatione deludi.”
[494] This comes from Orderic (683 D), who has some curious
details; “Domini sanctas imagines cum crucibus, et sanctarum
scrinia reliquiarum, ad terram deposuit, et portas
basilicarum spinis obturavit.” The biographer of the Bishops
mentions only the thorns, and he seems to imply that only Le
Mans and its suburbs were thus treated; “Matris ecclesiæ
omniumque ejusdem civitatis vel suburbii ecclesiarum
januas.”
[495] All this is told at some length, Vet. An. 291.
“Helias, pœnitentia ductus, pontificisque genibus
provolutus, veniam precabatur.”
[496] Vit. An. 292. “Cum esset apud castrum quod Carcer
dicitur, occurrerunt ei proceres civitatis, sacramenta
fidelitatis quæ Roberto comiti promiserant pro nihilo
reputantes.”
[497] Ib. “Rotbertus ultra modum inertiæ et voluptati
deditus, nihil dignum ratione respondens, quæ Cenomannenses
fecerant, pro eo quod inepto homini nimis onerosi
viderentur, non multum sibi displicuisse monstravit.” This
is important, now that an attempt is made to saddle Orderic
with the invention of the received character of Robert.
[498] Ib. “Non curare videbatur, nisi ut episcopatus tantum
in ejus dominio remaneret. Unde præcepit episcopo ut ad
ecclesiam quidem reverteretur, de episcopatu vero nullatenus
Hugoni marchisio responderet.” On the advowson of the see of
Le Mans, see N. C. vol. iii. p. 194; vol. iv. p. 544.
[499] Vet. Ann. 292. “Comes malo ingenio episcopum
circumvenire cupiens, postulabat ut ab ipso donum
episcopatus acciperet.” That is, Howel is to do homage to
the new prince, much as Henry the First, as we shall see in
a later chapter, demanded the homage of Anselm. Howel’s
objection seems simply to be that Robert was the lawful
lord, not that it was unlawful to accept the benefice from
any temporal lord.
[500] The troubles of the Bishop are set forth at length by
his biographer (Vet. An. 292 et seqq.). This device of his
enemies in the Chapter was the cruellest of all. Finding no
fault in him, but wishing that some fault should be found,
“sub specie veræ amicitiæ persuaserunt ei ut fraterculum
duodennem qui necdum perfecte litterarum elementa didicerat,
in ejus [decani] loco constitueret, et contra ecclesiastica
instituta inductum prudentibus puerulum senioribus
anteferret.” Geoffrey was a Breton, brother of Judicail――the
name familiar in so many spellings――Bishop of Saint Malo.
See Ord. Vit. 770 C. There was much disputing between him
and the other candidate for the deanery. This was Gervase,
nephew of the former Bishop Gervase (see N. C. vol. iii. p.
193), who had on his side the memory of his uncle, and the
special favour of his brothers with Count Hugh (“quia
fratres ejus eo tempore nimia familiaritate principis
uterentur”).
[501] Vet. An. 294. “Ad regem Anglorum se contulit, ejusque
liberalitate levamen maximum suæ persecutionis accepit.”
[502] The story is told in Vet. An. 294. Howel stayed four
months in England; ib. 295.
[503] Ib. 297.
[504] A great number of grants and privileges are reckoned
up in Vet. An. 298. Among them several exemptions were
granted to the episcopal lordship of Coulaines, a place of
which we shall hear again.
[505] According to Orderic (684 A) the people of Maine found
him “divitiis et sensu et virtute inopem.” The Biographer
(299) calls him “propter inconstantiam suam bonis omnibus
infestus,” and says that he went away, “omnibus quæ habere
poterat in pecuniam redactis.”
[506] Ord. Vit. 684 A.
[507] Orderic (u. s.) graphically sets forth the fears of
one who was “inscius inter gnaros et timidus inter animosos
milites consul constitutus.” He and his countrymen are
“Allobroges,” which seems odd; the men of Maine are
“Cisalpini.”
[508] Ord. Vit. 684 A. See vol. i. p. 277. According to
Helias or Orderic, the reconciled princes could muster a
hundred thousand men. It was, so Helias is made to think,
chiefly for the conquest of Maine that Rufus had crossed the
sea.
[509] Ord. Vit. u. s.
[510] Ib. “Me quoque libertatis amor nihilominus stimulat,
et hereditatis avitæ rectitudo dimicandi pro illa fiduciam
in Deo mihi suppeditat.”
[511] Both Orderic and the Biographer record the sale; the
Biographer throws some doubt on its validity; “Heliæ cognato
suo ipsam civitatem totumque comitatum, _quantum in ipso
erat_, vendidit.” Orderic names the price.
[512] Ord. Vit. 684 D. “Hic in accepta potestate viam suam
multum emendavit, et multiplici virtute floruit. Clerum et
ecclesiam Dei laudabiliter honoravit, et missis servitioque
Dei quotidie ferventer interfuit. Subjectis æquitatem
servavit pacemque pauperibus _pro posse suo_ tenuit.” He
comes in again for the like praise in 768 D, and more fully
in 769 D.
[513] His works are described by the Biographer, Vet. An.
299, 300.
[514] Vet. An. 299.
[515] See above, p. 15, and vol. i. p. 227.
[516] Vet. An. 301. “Ei [papæ] cum omni comitatu suo per
triduum cuncta necessaria hilariter et abundantissime
ministravit, quamvis eodem anno non solum annonæ, sed et
omnium quæ ad cibum pertinent, maximum constet exstitisse
defectum.” The Biographer is naturally eloquent on the
Pope’s visit.
[517] He appeared (Vet. An. ib.) “facie hilaris, colore
vividus, ingenio perspicax, cibo et potu sobrius, membrisque
omnibus incolumis.”
[518] Orderic (769 A) makes Helias say, “Consilio papæ
crucem Domini pro servitio ejus accepi.” He does not mention
the visit of Urban to Le Mans, nor does the Biographer
mention the crusading vow of Helias; but the two accounts
fit in together.
[519] See their dialogue in Laing, iii. 178.
[520] Orderic (769 A) describes the agreement between
William and Robert, and the payment of the pledge-money (see
vol. i. p. 559). Then he adds; “Helias comes ad curiam regis
Rothomagum venit. Qui postquam diu cum duce consiliatus
fuit, ad regem accessit.”
[521] See vol. i. pp. 175, 302.
[522] Ord. Vit. 769 A. “Domine _mi_ rex … amicitiam, _ut
vester fidelis_, vestram deposco, et hoc iter cum pace
vestra inire cupio.”
[523] Ib. “Quo vis vade; sed Cenomannicam urbem cum toto
comitatu mihi dimitte, quia quidquid pater meus habuit volo
habere.”
[524] Ib. 769 B. “Si placitare vis, judicium gratanter
subibo, et patrium jus, secundum examen regum, comitumque et
episcoporum, perdam aut tenebo.” I cannot see with Sir
Francis Palgrave (iv. 633) that this proposal “indicates
that Helias assumed the existence of a High Court of Peers,
possessing jurisdiction over the whole Capetian
monarchy――that realm to which the name of _France_ can
scarcely yet be given.” Surely Helias simply means to refer
the matter to arbitration.
[525] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Ensibus et lanceis innumerisque
missilibus tecum placitabo.”
[526] Ord. Vit. 769 C. “Ipse mihi Cænomannorum præposituram
dignatus est commendare.” The strictly feudal language is
worth noticing; but “præpositura” is an odd word to express
the countship of Maine.
[527] I give the substance of the speech in Orderic, 769 B,
C.
[528] Ib. “Ego contra cruciferos prœliari nolo, sed urbem
quam pater meus in die transitus sui nactus erat mihi
vendicabo.”
[529] Ib. “Tu igitur dilapsos aggeres munitionum tuarum
summopere repara, et cœmentarios lapidumque cæsores lucri
cupidos velociter aggrega, vetustasque neglectorum ruinas
murorum utcumque resarciendo restaura.”
[530] Ib. “Cinomannicos enim cives quantocius visitabo, et
centum milia lanceas cum vexillis ante portas eis
demonstrabo; nec tibi sine calumnia hæreditatem meam
indulgebo.”
[531] Ord. Vit. 769 C. “Currus etiam pilis atque sagittis
onustos illuc bobus pertrahi faciam. Sed ego ipse cum multis
legionibus armatorum bubulcos alacriter boantes ad portas
tuas præcedam. Hæc verissime credito et complicibus tuis
edicito.” All this talk is at least very characteristic of
William Rufus.
[532] Ord. Vit. 770 C. “Helias comes Goiffredum Britonem,
decanum ejusdem ecclesiæ, ad episcopatum elegit.” See above,
p. 201.
[533] Vet. An. 303. “A domno Hoello venerabilis memoriæ
episcopo Cenomannensis ecclesiæ scholarum magister et
archidiaconus factus.” He was “ex Lavarzinensi castro,
mediocribus quidem sed honestis exortus parentibus.” On his
relations to Helias see Appendix KK.
[534] Ord. Vit. 770 C. “Præveniens clerus Hildebertum de
Lavarceio archidiaconum in cathedra pontificali residere
compulit, et altæ vocis cum jubilatione tripudians cantavit
Te Deum laudamus, et cetera quæ usus in electione præsulis
exposcit ecclesiasticus.” An. Vet. 303. “Post discessum
ipsius [Hoelli] proper scientiæ et honestatis suæ meritum,
_communi cleri plebisque assensu_ in ejus loco substitutus
est.”
[535] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Quod Helias ut comperiit, valde
iratus resistere voluit. Sed clericis dicentibus illi,
Electionem tuam ecclesiasticæ præferre non debes electioni,
reveritus, quia Deum timebat, siluit et, ne letale in
membris ecclesiæ schisma fieret, canonicis consensit.” For
Saint Eadward’s opposite conduct in the like case, see N. C.
vol. ii. p. 120.
[536] Ib. “Goiffredus quippe de præsulatu securus erat,
jamque copiosas dapes pro sublimatione sui præparaverat.
Paratæ quidem dapes ab avidis comessoribus absumptæ sunt.
Sed ipsum Cenomanni episcopum habere penitus recusaverunt.”
He then mentions his promotion to Rouen.
[537] The story of Hildebert’s dealings with the heretic
Henry are told at large by the Biographer, 312 et seqq. See
also Milman, Latin Christianity, iv. 176.
[538] Vet. An. 326. He became Archbishop, “concedente
Ludovico rege Francorum, Cenomannensibus et Turonensibus
clericis et populis devotum præbentibus assensum.” The King
therefore kept at Tours the right of advowson which he had
lost at Le Mans. But had Hildebert, like Anselm (see vol. i.
pp. 397, 404), to get leave from his church to go away, or
had Cenomannian electors any share in choosing the
Metropolitan? Orderic (770 D) says that he was chosen “a
clero et populo,” seemingly of Tours, and “nutu Dei.” He
does not mention any action on the part of Le Mans.
[539] See above, p. 200.
[540] Vet. An. 305. “Eo tempore inter regem Anglorum et
Heliam comitem bellum gravissimum exortum est, pro eo
scilicet quod idem rex Cenomannensem episcopatum
calumniabatur [cf. N. C. vol. iii. p. 194], ideoque
ordinationi episcopi moliebatur obsistere.”
[541] Ib. “Cum eum ordinatum audisset, inimicitiarum quas
dudum mente conceperat manifestis bellorum incursibus
patefecit.” He gives no details of the war till the capture
of Helias.
[542] Ord. Vit. 770 A. “Helias castrum apud Dangeolum contra
Rodbertum Talavacium firmavit, ibique satellites suos ad
defensandos incolas terræ suæ collocavit.”
[543] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 552, 652.
[544] Ord. Vit. 770 A. “Inde præfatus tyrannus, quod vicina
passim depopulari arva non posset, contristatus est.
Intempestivus igitur mense Januario regem inquietavit.” Then
comes his speech; and then, “invitus rex pluribus ex causis
expeditionem inchoavit, sed Rodberto instigante et prospera
pollicente, differre, ne ignavus putaretur, erubuit.”
[545] Ib. “Principalis ordinatio provinciales competentibus
armaturis munitos adscivit, et ad transitus aquarum
sepiumque difficilesque aditus silvarum in hostes coaptavit.
Tunc rex inimicis nihil nocere potuit.” He now gives his
orders to Robert of Bellême, and we hear no more of him
personally in Maine till after the capture of Helias.
[546] Ord. Vit. 770 A. “Rex … rancore stomachatus ferocior
in illos exarsit, et Rodberto ingentem familiam bellatorum
suis in municipiis adunare præcepit, et copiosos pecuniæ
sumptus erogavit, unde municipia ejus vallis et muris et
multiplicibus zetis undique clauderentur et bellicosis larga
stipendiariis donativa largirentur.”
[547] Ib. B. “Oppida nova condidit, et antiqua præcipitibus
fossis cingens admodum firmavit.”
[548] Ib. “Novem in illo comitatu habuit castra, id est
Blevam et Perretum, Montem de Nube et Soonam, Sanctum
Remigium de Planis, et Orticosam, Allerias et Motam Galterii
de Clincampo, Mamerz, et alias domos firmas quamplurimas.”
On “domus firmæ,” see N. C. vol. ii. p. 625.
[549] Ord. Vit. 770 B. “Hæc siquidem regio censu argutus
artifex sibi callide præparavit, et in his bestialis sævitiæ
colonos vicinisque suis malefidos collocavit, per quos
arrogantiæ suæ satisfaceret, et atrocem guerram in
Cænomannos exercuit.” Our own chronicler in Stephen’s day
goes even beyond Orderic’s rhetoric. The “devils and evil
men” outdo even the “bestialis sævitiæ coloni.”
[550] Orderic tells all this out of place, 768 C, D. “Terras
quas prisci antecessores sanctis dederant, sibi mancipavit.
Is jamdudum in Cænomannico consulatu castra violenter in
alieno rure construxit, in possessionibus scilicet sancti
Petri de Cultura et sancti Vincentii martyris, quibus
colonos graviter oppressit.”
[551] Ib. They fought “in nomine Domini, invocato sancto
Juliano pontifice.”
[552] See vol. i. p. 273, and Appendix M.
[553] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Pro quibus Cænomannenses maximas
redemptiones habuerunt, et sic injurias sanctorum et damna
suorum ulti sunt.”
[554] Ord. Vit. 770 B. “In quadragesima, dum peccatores
cælitus compuncti prava relinquunt, et ad medicamentum
pœnitentiæ pro transactis sceleribus trepidi confugiunt, in
carcere Rodberti plusquam trecenti vinculati perierunt. Qui
multam ei pecuniam pro salute sua obtulerunt, sed crudeliter
ab eo contempti, fame et algore aliisque miseriis
interierunt.”
[555] I infer as much from the somewhat vague words of
Orderic, 771 A; “Helias comes hebdomada præcedente
rogationes expeditionem super Robertum fecit, et facto
discursu post nonam suos remeare præcepit.”
[556] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Illis autem redeuntibus, comes cum
septem militibus a turma sua segregatus, prope Dangeolum
divertit, ibique in condensis arboribus et frutectis
latitantes quosdam advertit, in quos statim cum paucis
sodalibus irruit.” So the Biographer (Vet. An. 305); “Dum
comes Helias … hostes qui adversus eum venerant incautius
sequeretur, ab ipsis, proh dolor! comprehensus est.” Wace,
who tells the whole story in the wildest order, and makes
the capture of Helias follow the siege of Mayet, preserves
(15100) the memory of the ambush;
“Mais Normanz par une envaïe
Unt retenu li conte Helie
Li conte unt pris è retenu
Et el rei l’uat tot sain rendu.”
[557] Ord. Vit. 771 A. “Rodbertus in insidiis ibi latitabat.
Qui ut paucos incaute discurrentes vidit, vafer militiæque
gnarus ex improviso cum plurimis prosiluit, comitemque mox
et Herveum de Monteforti signiferum ejus et pene omnes alios
comprehendit.”
The Angevin version (Chron. S. Alb. Andeg. 1098) is somewhat
different; “Helias comes Cenomannorum captus est a Rotberto
de Belesma, _defectione suorum_, iv. kal. Maii, feria iv. et
redditus Willelmo secundo regi Anglorum.” There is nothing
in the fuller story of Orderic to bear out the charge in
Italics; but it might be an easy inference from the Count’s
small attendance.
[558] Ord. Vit. 776 A. “Prævii exercitus, postquam Balaonem
alacres pervenerunt, per eos qui evaserunt captum esse
audierunt, subitoque post inanem lætitiam ingenti mœrore
pariter inebriati sunt.”
[559] Ord. Vit. 771 B. “Rodbertus deinde regi Heliam
Rothomagum præsentavit, quem rex honorifice custodiri
præcepit.” I do not think that this is set aside by the
words of the Biographer (Vet. An. 305); “Rotomagum usque
productus, in arce ipsius civitatis in vincula conjectus
est.” For “vincula,” like Orderic’s own “carcer” in 771 B,
is a vague kind of word which need not be always taken
literally. Orderic adds; “Non enim militibus erat crudelis,
sed blandus et dapsilis, jocundus et affabilis.” This, with
the proper emphasis on “militibus,” is the very picture of
the Red King. Wace however, who is also strong about the
fetters, seems to have mistaken it for a character of Helias
(15106);
“Li reis à Roem l’envéia
E garder le recomenda;
En la tour le rova garder
Et en bones buies fermer.
Helies fu boen chevaliers,
Bels fu è genz è bien pleniers,” &c.
He goes on with a speech of Helias to his guardians, which
seems to be made out of his speech to the King in Orderic,
773 B.
[560] See below, p. 230, note 2.
[561] Ord. Vit. 771 B. “Felici fortuna rex Guillelmus sibi
arridente tripudiavit, et convocatis in unum Normanniæ
baronibus, ait, Hactenus de nanciscenda hæreditate paterna
negligenter egi, quia pro cupiditate ruris augendi populos
vexare vel homines perimere nolui.”
[562] Ord. Vit. 771 B. “Nunc autem, ut videtis, me
nesciente, hostis meus captus est, Deoque volente, _qui
rectitudinem meam novit_, mihi traditus est.” Here we get
the sentiment of the wager of battle.
[563] 2 Kings x. 9.
[564] Ord. Vit. u.s. “Communi consilio, domine rex,
decernimus ut jussione vestra universus Normannorum
aggregetur exercitus, cum quo nos omnes ad obtinendam
Cænomannorum regionem audacter et alacriter ibimus.”
[565] Ord. Vit. 771 B. “Franci ergo et Burgundiones, Morini
et Britones, aliæque vicinæ gentes ad liberalem patricium
concurrerunt, et phalanges ejus multipliciter auxerunt.”
[566] Ib. D. “Gilo de Soleio, de nobilissimis Gallorum
antiquus heros, de familia Henrici regis Francorum, qui
multas viderat et magnas congregationes populorum, in arduo
monte stans, turmas armatorum undique prospexit, et
quinquaginta millia virorum inibi esse autumavit, nec se
unquam citra Alpes tantum insimul exercitum vidisse
asseruit.”
[567] Cf. N. C. vol. v. p. 268.
[568] I have quoted Wace’s accurate bit of geography on this
head, N. C. vol. ii. p. 291.
[569] Ord. Vit. 771 C. “Mense Junio Guillelmus rex per
Alencionem exercitum duxit, multisque millibus stipatus,
hostium regionem formidabilis intravit.” Yet, after his
dealings with Ralph and the others, we read (ib. D), “Prima
regis mansio in terra hostili apud Ruceiam [see below, p.
232] fuit.” This surely means that his head-quarters still
remained at Alençon, though he doubtless made raids on the
Cenomannian side of the river.
[570] Ib. “Militum vero turmæ regio jussu Fredernaium
repente adierunt, et cum oppidanis equitibus militari
exercitio ante portas castri aliquantulum certaverunt.”
[571] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 558.
[572] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 269, 624.
[573] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 652.
[574] Ord. Vit. 771 C. “A sublimitate vestra requiro, domine
rex, inducias, donec salvus de Cænomannis redeas. Illic enim
præsul et senatorum concio consistit, ibique communis
quotidie de statu reipublicæ tractatus et providentia fit.
Quidquid ibi pactum fuerit vobiscum nos gratanter
subsequemur, et jussionibus vestris in omnibus obsequemur.
Hæc idcirco, domine rex, loco majorum natu consilio, quia,
si sine bello primus defecero pariumque meorum desertor
primus pacem iniero, omni sine dubio generi meo dedecus et
improperium generabo. Membra caput subsequi debent, non
præcedere; et faceti legitimique vernulæ magis optant
obsequi domino quam jubere.” The words here especially the
“faceti legitimique vernulæ,” are doubtless Orderic’s; but
surely the very strangeness of the proposal is almost enough
to show that he is recording a real transaction.
[575] Ib. D. “Hæc et plura similia dicentem rex laudavit, et
quæ postulata fuerant annuit.”
[576] Ord. Vit. 771 D. We first heard of Geoffrey as long
ago as 1055. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 167.
[577] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 553.
[578] The Biographer (Vet. An. 305) says nothing of the
bargain with Ralph and the other lords; but he says that
“rex Anglorum, cernens civitatem principis sui præsidio
destitutam, quorumdam perfidorum civium assensu illuc
accedere properavit.” We need not take “cives” too strictly;
and if anything like the _commune_ had been set up again,
the lords would be “cives.”
[579] Chron. S. Alb. And. 1098. “Fulco Andegavorum comes,
Rechin cognominatus, Cenomanniam urbem _ut suam_ sequenti
sabbato recepit.” The date is reckoned from the capture of
Helias. So Ord. Vit. 772 A. “Fulco cognomento Richinus,
Andegavorum comes, ut Heliam captum audivit, Cænomannis,
_quia capitalis dominus erat_, actutum advenit, et a civibus
libenter susceptus, munitiones militibus et fundibulariis
munivit.” The local writer (Vet. An. 305) is silent about
Fulk’s lordship, but remembers the family connexion between
him and Helias; “Quo comperto, Fulco Andegavorum comes
protinus cum filio suo Gaufrido, cui filia Heliæ comitis jam
desponsata fuerat, in civitatem advenit, et consensu civium
in munitionibus civitatis custodiam posuit.” The “consensus
civium” sounds like a formal act of the municipal body.
[580] Eremburga, who afterwards married the younger Fulk,
seems to have been at an earlier time promised to his
half-brother Geoffrey. See Gesta Consulum, Chroniques
D’Anjou, i. 143.
[581] Vet. An. 305. “Ibi relicto filio ad alia negotia
properavit.”
[582] See above, p. 229, note 1.
[583] Ord. Vit. 771 D. “Sequenti die rex ad Montem Bussoti
castra metatus pernoctavit.”
[584] Ib. “Tertia die Colunchis venit, et in pratis Sartæ
figi multitudinis tentoria imperavit.”
[585] See above, p. 221.
[586] Vet. An. 305. “Circa Colonias vicum episcopalem cum
magno exercitu consedit, ipsumque vicum cum ecclesia quæ
ibidem erat igne concremavit, et omnia quæ ibi episcopus
habebat crudeliter devastavit. Oderat enim illum … pro eo
quod contra calumniam illius episcopatum acceperat.”
[587] See N. C. vol. i. p. 423.
[588] Vet. An. 306. “Cives cum bellico apparatu de civitate
egressi, contra ejus exercitum viriliter obsidere
conabantur. Rex autem, perfidorum consilio se intelligens
deceptum, facto vespere, cum imminentis noctis profundum
silentium advenisset, cum exercitu suo clam discessit et
castra vacua hostibus dereliquit. Cives autem mane
surgentes, cum semetipsos ad pugnam præparare cœpissent,
comperto regis abscessu, castra illius invaserunt, et
neminem ibi reperientes ad propria reversi sunt.” Orderic
(772 A) substitutes a drawn battle by daylight, and mentions
the occupation of Ballon; but they both agree in the main
fact that Rufus, for whatever cause, withdrew from before Le
Mans for a season. Ballon is spoken of as “fortissima mota,
per quam totum oppidum adversariis subactum paruit.”
[589] Some of Orderic’s expressions (772 B) are worth
notice. “Diuturnam obsidionem tenere nequivit. Nam egestas
victus gravis hominibus et equis instabat, quia tempus inter
veteres et novas fruges tunc iter agebat. Sextarius avenæ
decem solidis Cænomannensium vendebatur, sine qua cornipedum
vigor _in occidentalibus climatibus_ vix sustentatur.” Such
a straw as this shows how the crusades had made the East and
its ways present to men’s minds.
[590] Ord. Vit. ib. “Rex legiones suas relaxavit, et messes
suas in horreis recondi præcepit, atque ut post collectionem
frugum obsidere hostium castra parati essent, commonuit.”
[591] Ord. Vit. 772 C. “Dum comes et exercitus in tentoriis
suis pranderent, et mendici de oppido accepta stipe obsessis
renuntiarent quod obsidentes tunc, videlicet circa tertiam,
comederent, in armis ordinatæ acies militum subito
prosilierunt, et inermes ad mensam residentes ex insperato
proturbaverunt, et pluribus captis omnes alios fugaverunt.”
He gives the numbers with a few names, and enlarges on their
greatness.
[592] Ord. Vit. 772 D. “Jussit omnes protinus absolvi [they
are just before called ‘vinculati’], eisque cum suis in
curia foris ad manducandum copiose dari, et per fidem suam
usque post prandium liberos dimitti. Cumque satellites ejus
objicerent quod in tanta populi frequentia facile
aufugerent, rex illorum duritiæ obstitit, et pro vinctis eos
redarguens dixit, Absit a me ut credam quod probus miles
violet fidem suam. Quod si fecerit, omni tempore velut exlex
et despicabilis erit.”
[593] Ib. “Fulco comes de obsidione ad urbem confugerat, et
in cœnobiis sanctorum exitus rerum exspectabat.”
[594] See Appendix LL.
[595] See Appendix LL.
[596] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 498; vol. iv. p. 73.
[597] Ord. Vit. 773 A. “Milites electos loricis et galeis et
omni armatura fulgentes.”
[598] Ib. “Protinus illi, custodibus egressis, cunctas urbis
munitiones nacti sunt, et in principali turre vexillum regis
cum ingenti tropæo levaverunt. In crastinum rex post illos
mille præclaros milites direxit, et pro libitu suo datis
legibus totam civitatem possedit. Regia turris et Mons
Barbatus atque Mons Barbatulus regi subjiciuntur, et
_merito, quia a patre ejus condita noscuntur_.” In these
last words Orderic throws himself fully into the position of
Rufus. The Biographer (Vet. An. 306) says; “Rex recepta
civitate et positis in munitionibus ejus copiosis virorum,
armorum, escarumque præsidiis, _in Angliam transfretavit_.”
This last statement is clearly wrong.
On the fortresses of Le Mans, see Appendix MM.
[599] Ord. Vit. 773 A. “Omnes cives in pace novo principi
congratulantur plausibus et cantibus variisque gestibus.
Tunc Hildebertus præsul et clerus et omnis plebs obviam regi
cum ingenti gaudio processerunt, et psallentes in basilicam
sancti Gervasii martyris perduxerunt.” See Appendix LL.
The joy, one would think, was a little conventional, and
there is no sign of it in the native writer. Cf. N. C. vol.
iii. p. 550.
[600] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 206.
[601] See Appendix NN.
[602] Ord. Vit. 773 D. “Guillelmo Ebroicensium comiti et
Gisleberto de Aquila, aliisque probis optimatibus urbem
servandam commisit, et regiam turrem armis et cibis et
omnibus necessariis opime instructam Galterio Rothomagensi
filio Ansgerii commendavit.” Is this Walter the brother of
the William of whom we heard above?
[603] Ib. “Radulfus vicecomes et Goisfredus de Meduana,
Robertusque Burgundio, aliique totius provinciæ proceres
regi confœderati sunt, redditisque munitionibus, datis ab eo
legibus solerter obsecundarunt.”
[604] Ord. Vit. 773 B. See Appendix OO.
[605] Ib. “Niger et hispidus.” See above, p. 196.
[606] See Appendix OO.
[607] Ord. Vit. 773 B. “Callidus _senex_ regalibus consiliis
et judiciis præerat. Quapropter in prætorio principali parem
seu potiorem perpeti metuebat.” See vol. i. pp. 186, 551.
“Senex” seems too strong a word.
[608] Ord. Vit. 773 C. “Helias conductum per terram regis ab
illo requisivit, quo accepto liber ad sua gaudentibus amicis
remeavit.”
[609] Ord. Vit. 766 D. “In ipsa nocte terribile signum mundo
manifestatum est. Totum nempe cælum quasi arderet, fere
cunctis occidentalibus rubicundum ut sanguis visum est.
Tunc, ut postmodum audivimus, in eois partibus Christiani
contra ethnicos pugnaverunt, Deoque juvante triumpharunt.”
[610] Ord. Vit. 766 D. “Guillelmus rex in Galliam usque
Pontesiam discurrit, incendiis et prædis hominumque
capturis, omnium ubertate rerum nobilem provinciam
devastavit.”
[611] Ord. Vit. 767 A. “Illustres oppidani propugnacula
quidem sua vivaciter protexerunt, sed timoris Dei et humanæ
societatis immemores non fuerunt. Insilientium corporibus
provide benigniterque pepercerunt, sed atrocitatem iræ suæ
pretiosis inimicorum caballis intulerunt. Nam plusquam
septingentos ingentis pretii equos sagittis et missilibus
occiderunt, ex quorum cadaveribus Gallicani canes et alites
usque ad nauseam saturati sunt. Quamplures itaque pedites ad
propria cum rege remeant, qui spumantibus equis turgidi
equites Eptam pertransierant.”
[612] There is something strange in the casual way in which
Orderic (767 A) brings in so mighty an ally; “Guillelmus rex
cum Guillelmo duce Pictavensium, ductu Almarici juvenis, et
Nivardi de Septoculo, contra Montemfortem et Sparlonem
maximam multitudinem duxit, circumjacentem provinciam
devastavit.” The bargain between the two Williams, of which
this was surely an instalment, comes later, 780 B.
[613] See Will. Malms. v. 439.
[614] Had either William ever done personal homage to
Philip? There is no sign of it in the case of William of
England.
[615] Ord. Vit. 767 A. See note 1 on p. 250. Who is young
Almaric or Amalric? Surely not an unworthy member of the
house of Montfort. I have never made my way to Epernon,
which gives a title to one of the minions of the last
Valois.
[616] It is odd, after the account in Suger, to read in
Orderic (766 A), “Ludovicus puerili teneritudine detentus
adhuc militare nequibat.” It is just possible that Lewis was
not eager to help the kinsfolk of Bertrada.
[617] Ord. Vit. 767 B. “Petrus cum filiis suis Ansoldo et
Tedbaldo Mauliam, aliique municipes quos singillatim nequeo
nominare, firmitates suas procaciter tenuere.” On the house
of Maule and its works, see Ord. Vit. 587 et seqq. Peter is
described as “filius Ansoldi divitis Parisiensis.”
[618] Ord. Vit. 767 A. “Simon juvenis munitiones suas
auxiliante Deo illæsas servavit. Simon vero senex servavit
Neëlfiam.” See the marriage of the younger Simon with Agnes
of Evreux, Ord. Vit. 576 C, and his exploits, 836 C. Of him
in the fourth generation came our own Simon. But, according
to the Art de Vérifier les Dates, “Simon senex” was dead
before this time.
[619] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 133.
[620] See note 2 on p. 253.
[621] Ord. Vit. 767 B. “Interea, dum Guillelmus rex pro
regni negotiis regrederetur in Angliam, treviis utrobique
datis, serena pax Gallis dedit serenitatis lætitiam.”
[622] Orderic (773 D), immediately after recording the
submission of the Cenomannian castles, goes on to draw a
harrowing picture of the sufferings of England during the
King’s absence; how “Rannulfus Flambardus jam Dunelmi
episcopus, aliique regis satellites et gastaldi, Angliam
spoliabant, et latronibus pejores, agricolarum acervos, ac
negotiatorum congeries immisericorditer diripiebant, nec
etiam sanguinolentas manus a sacris cohibebant.” He then
goes on to describe the special wrongs of the Church, and
adds, “Sic immensi census onera per fas perque nefas
coacervabant, et regi trans fretum, ut in nefariis seu
commodis usibus expenderentur, destinabant. Hujusmodi utique
collectionibus grandia regi xenia præsentabantur, quibus
extranei pro vana laude ditabantur.” They then cried to God
who had raised up Ehud to slay the “rex pinguissimus” Eglon,
which sounds rather like a prayer for the coming of Walter
Tirel. But the chronology is utterly confused. The time of
which Orderic is speaking is the year 1098; yet he makes
Flambard already Bishop of Durham, which he was not till
1099, and he makes Anselm withstand all these oppressions
and go away because he could not hinder them. But, as we
well know, Anselm was already gone in 1097.
Henry of Huntingdon also (vii. 20) notices the special
oppression during the continental war. The King “in
Normannia fuit, semper hosticis tumultibus et curis armorum
deditus, tributis interim et exactionibus pessimis populos
Anglorum non abradens sed excorians.”
[623] Chron. Petrib. 1099. “Se cyng Willelm … to Eastron
hider to lande com and to Pentecosten forman siðe his hired
innan his niwan gebyttlan æt Westmynstre heold.”
[624] See vol. i. p. 557.
[625] Chron. Petrib. 1096. “Ðis wæs swiðe hefigtime gear
geond eall Angelcyn ægðer ge þurh mænigfealde gylda, and eac
þurh swiðe hefigtymne hunger, þe þisne eard þæs geares swiðe
gedrehte.”
[626] This prodigy is put by the Chronicler under two years,
1098 and 1100. Florence and William of Malmesbury (iv. 331)
place it under the latter year only. See above, p. 246.
[627] Chron. Petrib. 1098. “Toforan S[~c]e Michaeles mæssan
ætywde eo heofon swilce heo forneah ealle þa niht byrnende
wære.”
[628] Ib. “Ðis wæs swiðe geswincfull gear þurh manigfealde
ungyld and þurh mycele renas, þe ealles geares ne ablunnon
forneah ælc tilð on mersclande forferde.”
[629] Chron. Petrib. 1097. “Eac manege sciran þe mid weorce
to Lundenne belumpon wurdon þærle gedrehte, þurh þone weall
þe hi worhton onbutan þone Tur, et þurh þa brycge þe forneah
eall toflotan wæs, and þurh þæs cynges healle geweorc, þe
man on Westmynstre worhte and mænige men þær mid gedrehte.”
This is connected by Henry of Huntingdon (vii. 19) with the
other oppressions of the time and with the departure of
Anselm; “Anselmus vero archiepiscopus recessit ab Anglia,
quia nihil recti rex pravus in regno suo fieri permittebat,
sed provincias intolerabiliter vexabat in tributis quæ
numquam cessabant, in opere muri circa turrim Londoniæ, in
opere aulæ regalis apud Westminstre, in rapina quam familia
sua hostili modo, ubicunque rex pergebat, exercebant.” The
other side of the story comes out in William of Malmesbury
(iv. 321); “Unum ædificium, et ipsum permaximum, domum in
Londonia incepit et perfecit, non parcens expensis dummodo
liberalitatis suæ magnificentiam exhiberet.” We see here how
the “liberalitas” of the Red King looked in the eyes of
those who had to pay for it. But it is hard to understand
Sir T. D. Hardy’s note on the passage of William of
Malmesbury; he is speaking not of the Tower of London, but
of Westminster Hall.
[630] See Livy, i. 56, 59.
[631] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 93, 601.
[632] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 310.
[633] See note on p. 259.
[634] See N. C. vol. iii. pp. 64, 340.
[635] See N. C. vol. i. pp. 306, 317; vol. iii. pp. 66, 540,
640; vol. iv. p. 59.
[636] See N. C. vol. v. p. 600.
[637] Hen. Hunt. vii. 21. “Quam [novam aulam] cum
inspecturus primum introisset, cum alii satis magnam vel
æquo majorem dicerent, dixit rex eam magnitudinis debitæ
dimidia parte carere. Qui sermo regi magno fuit, licet parvi
constasset, honori.” This is copied by Robert of Torigny,
the Waverly Annalist, Bromton, and most likely others.
[638] Matthew Paris (Hist. Ang. i. 165) copies Henry of
Huntingdon with a few touches, and adds, “nec eam esse nisi
thalamum ad palatium quod erat facturus.” The foundations of
the wall which he designed extended “scilicet a Tamensi
usque ad publicam stratam; tanta enim debuit esse
longitudo.”
[639] Ann. Wint. 1099. “Rex venit de Normannia, et regis
diademate coronatus est apud Londoniam, ubi Edgarus rex
Scotiæ gladium coram eo portavit.” The authority is not
first-rate; but it is the kind of thing which can hardly
have been invented.
[640] The Chronicler (1098) records the deaths of Walkelin,
Baldwin, and Turold. Florence (1097, 1098) adds that of
Robert, and in one manuscript that of Abbot Reginald of
Abingdon, who (Hist. Ab. ii. 42) would seem to have died
somewhat earlier, in the year 1097. This prelate is said to
have been in the King’s good graces, and to have been
employed by him in the pious and charitable distribution
from his father’s hoard at the beginning of his reign (see
vol. i. p. 17). There is also just before in the local
History (ii. 41) a writ of Rufus to Peter Sheriff of
Oxfordshire, witnessed by Randolf the chaplain, in which the
Sheriff is bidden to let the Abbot and his monks enjoy all
that they had T. R. E. and T. R. W., and specially to make
good the wrongs done by his reeve Eadwig and others his
officers. Here are the reeves again; but this time an
English reeve oppresses a Norman abbot.
[641] See vol. i. p. 586.
[642] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 372-816.
[643] Will. Malmb. Gest. Pont. 172, copied in Ann. Wint.
1098.
[644] William of Malmesbury (u. s., and see N. C. vol. iv.
p. 817) marks the change in him. The local annalist who
copies him gives Walkelin a warm panegyric; “Erat vir
perfectæ pietatis et sanctitatis, immensæque prudentiæ, et
tantæ demum abstinentiæ ut nec carnes nec pisces comederet.”
(His brother Simeon (Ann. Wint. 1082), afterwards Abbot of
Ely (see N. C. vol. iv. pp. 481, 833), had taught the monks
to give up flesh.) “Semper secum monachos habebat … non enim
minus conventum suum diligebat quam si omnes dii essent.”
This somewhat pagan way of talking has its contradictory in
the words of Hugh of Nonant, Bishop of Coventry (Ric. Div. §
85); “Ego clericos meos deos nomino, monachos dæmonia.”
[645] The well-known trick by which Walkelin cut down the
king’s wood at Hempage is recorded in Ann. Wint. 1086. Cf.
Willis, Winchester, 17.
[646] Ann. Wint. 1093. See Willis, Winchester, 6, 17.
[647] Ann. Wint. 1097. “Hoc anno transfretavit rex, et
regnum Walkelino et Radulfo Passeflabere commisit.”
[648] The exact date comes from Ann. Wint. 1098. He dies ten
days after his receipt of the king’s message, which comes
“die natalis Domini post inceptum missarum officium.”
[649] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 456.
[650] See vol. i. p. 355. I there carelessly followed the
date, 1093, given in the Monasticon, ii. 431, as the year of
the death of Robert of New Minster. It must be a misprint or
miswriting for 1098.
[651] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 407.
[652] On this early hero, son of King Anna of East-Anglia,
whose name has gone through endless corruptions, see
Liebermann’s note (Ungedruckte Anglo-Normannische
Geschichtsquellen, p. 277) to Heremann’s Miracles of Saint
Eadmund. William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 156) writes him
“Germinus,” and not unnaturally says that he knows very
little about him, save that he was brother of Saint
Æthelthryth. His editor turns him into Saint German of
Auxerre; he then wonders that William should know so little
of Saint German of whom he had found a good deal to say
elsewhere, but he does not himself seem the least surprised
to hear Saint German spoken of as brother of Saint
Æthelthryth.
[653] This and the following stories come from the work of
Heremann just mentioned (Dr. Liebermann’s collection
contains also the Annals of Saint Eadmund’s). This story of
Osgod comes at p. 242. He enters the church, “armillas
bajulans in brachiis ambobus superbe [see N. C. vol. iv. p.
288], Danico more deaurata securi in humero dependente;” and
presently, “non sincere conatur securim a collo deponere,
vel se arroganter super eam appodiare.” On the way of
carrying the axe, see N. C. vol. iii. p. 767.
[654] Liebermann, 248 et seqq. Herfast is described as
“duarum Eastengle vicecomitatuum episcopus.” A branch runs
into his eye as he is riding through a wood. A document is
referred to which is witnessed by Hugh of Montfort, Roger
Rigod, Richard of Tunbridge, “et cum eis Lincoliensis
Turoldus simul et Hispaniensis Alveredus.” Liebermann finds
this Turold in the Norfolk Domesday, 172; but as he is
“Lincoliensis,” we should rather look for him in the company
discussed in N. C. vol. iii. p. 778; only Ælfred of Spain
(see N. C. vol. v. pp. 737, 777) is not Ælfred of Lincoln.
[655] See N. C. vol. i. p. 366.
[656] Liebermann, 265. “Natione Normannicus cum rege
Willelmo priore quidam fuerat aulicus, Rannulfus quidem
nomine, ceu tunc moris erat, militari perversus in opere.”
This cannot mean Randolf the chaplain. In his vision,
“somniat quod equitans fugam ineat, et sanctus martyr eques
insequutor fiat ejus armatus.”
[657] Ib. 268. “Robertus de Curzun” is in Domesday R. de
Curcun or Curcon. He appears several times in Domesday in
both the East-Anglian shires (175 _b_, 181 _b_, 187, 299
_b_, 331 _b_, 336), always as an under-tenant, and commonly
under Roger Bigod.
[658] The date is given (Liebermann, 274) as 1094, and the
King presently crosses the sea; this fixes it to the
assembly at Hastings. Baldwin has finished the eastern part
of his church (“ad unguem perduxerat suæ novæ et inceptæ
ecclesiæ presbiterii opus, multifariam compositum modis
omnibus, quale decuit esse regium decus”). The King first
grants leave for both ceremonies; then “regia voluntas
alterata prædicto patri Baldwino mandat in hæc verba;
translationem sancti martyris se concedere, dedicationem
vero minime fieri debere.”
[659] Compare the story of Saint Olaf, above, p. 139.
Flambard here appears in a marked way as “Rannulfus
capellanus,” “capellanus;” see Appendix S.
[660] “Omnia Romæ venalia,” says Heremann (Liebermann, 251);
but the story is rather of an attempt of Bishop Herfast to
bribe the Conqueror.
[661] Florence at least (1097) sends him out of the world
with very kindly feelings; “Eximiæ vir religionis,
monasterii S. Eadmundi abbas Baldwinus, natione Gallus,
artis medicinæ bene peritus, iv. kal. Jan. feria iii. in
bona senectute decessit.” He uses the same formula of Earl
Leofric forty years earlier. Several English names occur in
Heremann’s story; among them (Liebermann, 259) “domnus
Eadricus præpositus et cum eo presbyter Siwardus,” who are
spoken of in connexion with the Abbot’s journey to Rome.
[662] Chron. Petrib. 1099. “Se cyng Willelm … to Pentecosten
forman siðe his hired innan his nywan gebyttlan æt
Westmynstre heold, and þær Rannulfe his capellane þæt
biscoprice on Dunholme geaf, þe æror ealle his gemót ofer
eall Engleland draf and bewiste.” See vol. i. p. 333.
[663] The date, place, and consecrator are given by his
biographer in Ang. Sac. i. 707, who adds that it was done
“sine ulla exactione professionis, sicut et Willelmus
quondam prædecessor illius.”
[664] William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 274), after
describing Flambard’s former doings, adds emphatically;
“Quibus artibus fretus, episcopatum Dunelmensem meruit.” But
he scratched out what he at first went on to say――“meruit ut
sanctius ingrederetur, _datis mille libris_.” One would have
looked for a larger sum.
[665] See N. C. vol. v. p. 631. But it would seem from the
words of the biographer (X Scriptt. 62; Ang. Sac. ii. 709)
that the work was not quite finished till after his death;
“Eo tempore [in the five years’ vacancy that followed] navis
ecclesiæ Dunelmensis monachis operi instantibus peracta
est.” This can hardly mean the vault, which seems later
still. The biographer also describes his other local works,
specially how “urbem hanc, licet natura munierit, muro ipse
reddidit fortiorem et augustiorem.” William of Malmesbury
(Gest. Pont. 274) records new buildings for the monks among
his better deeds.
[666] The biographer (u. s.) says, “Condidit castellum in
excelso præruptæ rupis super Twedam flumen, ut inde latronum
incursus inhiberet et Scotorum irruptiones. Ibi enim,
_utpote in confinio regni Anglorum et Scotorum_, creber
prædantibus ante patebat incursus, nullo ibidem quo
hujusmodi impetus repelleretur præsidio locato.” From
Simeon’s Gesta Regum we find that the place was Norham and
the date 1121. The words in Italics should be noticed. By
the time of this writer the older position of Lothian was
beginning to be forgotten; it had passed to Northumberland.
The building of the castle suggests to the biographer a
remark on Flambard’s character; “Taliter impulsu quodam
impatiente otii de opere transibat ad opus, nil reputans
factum, nisi factis nova jam facienda succederent.”
[667] “Jura libertatis episcopii secundum vires contra
extraneos defendebat,” says the biographer.
[668] “Inerat ei episcopo _magnanimitas_ quam quondam
procurator regni contraxit ex potentia, ut in conventu
procerum vel primus vel cum primis semper contenderet esse,
et inter honorificos honoris locum magnificentius obtineret.
Vastiori semper clamore vultuque minaci magis simulare quam
exhibere.” In all this the servant is very like his master.
[669] According to William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 274),
he first behaved well for fear of Saint Cuthberht, but
finding that some smaller misdeeds went unpunished, he
presently ventured on greater. But in the existing text he
mentions only that Flambard dragged criminals out of
sanctuary, “ausus scelus omnibus retro annis inauditum.”
William had written, but he found it expedient to strike
out, how the Bishop not only set forbidden food before his
monks, but, “ut magis religionem irritaret, puellas
speciosissimas quæ essent procatioris formæ et faciei eis
propinare juberet, strictis ad corpus vestibus, solutis in
terga crinibus.”
[670] The details of a very penitent end are given by the
biographer. Among other confessions of sin, the Bishop says.
“plus volui illis nocere quam potui”――the complaint of the
Confessor. The persons who were to be hurt seem to be the
monks and men of the church of Durham.
[671] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 544.
[672] Vet. An. 306. “Quasi taurus in latebris silvarum.”
[673] Ib. “Helias apud castrum Lid et in castris
circumpositis morabatur, atque vires suas … ad nova
certamina, in quantum poterat, reparabat, castella sua vallo
atque fossa muniendo, et sibi vicinorum amicitias atque
auxilia consciscendo.” So Orderic, 773 C; “Quinque oppida
sua cum adjacentibus vicis instruxit, sollicita procuratione
damna supplevit, propriisque negotiis sedulus institit. Ab
Augusto usque ad pascha in pace siluit. Interim tamen quasi
specimine nisus suos hostibus ostenderet, callide cogitavit,
et multotiens cum fidis affinibus tractavit.”
The five castles may be Château-du-Loir, Lude (Lit), Mayet,
Outille, and Vaux. La Flèche is perhaps taken for granted.
All these, except Lude, are mentioned as we go on.
[674] Ord. Vit. 774 C. “Sequenti anno Helias post pascha
iterare guerram cœpit, et clam consentientibus indigenis,
depopulari confinia et militiam regis lacessere sategit.”
[675] Ib. “Mense Junio cum insigni multitudine militum
venit.” Vet. An. 307. “Sequenti æstate magno vicinorum atque
amicorum exercitu congregato.”
[676] Of the two bridges side by side, the elder is useless,
two arches having been broken down by the Vendeans in 1793.
But there has been fighting not far off in still later
times.
[677] Ord. Vit. 774 C. “Venit ad Planchias Godefredi, vadum
Egueniæ fluminis pertransivit, regiosque pugiles qui urbem
custodiebant ad conflictum lacessiit.” Vet An. 307. “Non
longe a civitate improvisus advenit; cui milites regis simul
cum populo usque ad Pontem Leugæ hostiliter occurrentes quum
ejus impetum sustinere non possent in fugam conversi sunt.
Ille vero amne transmisso, eos viriliter insecutus,” &c.
These two accounts seem to place the fighting on different
sides of the river. I incline to Orderic’s version on this
ground. A version which carries men across by a ford is
always to be preferred to one which carries them across by a
bridge, as likely to preserve the older tradition. The
bridge may always have been built between the time of the
event and the time of the writer, and he may easily be led
to speak as if it had been there at the earlier time.
Orderic himself speaks of the bridge in 775 B.
[678] Ord. Vit. 774 C. “Audaces Normanni foras proruperunt,
diuque dimicaverunt, sed numerosa hostium virtute prævalente
in urbem repulsi sunt. Tunc etiam hostes cum eisdem ingressi
sunt, quia eorum violentia coerciti municipes portas
claudere nequiverunt; sed per urbem fugientes vix in arcem
aliasque munitiones introire potuerunt.” Vet. An. 307. “Ille
[Helias] cum suo exercitu civitatem nullo prohibente
audacter ingressus, eos qui in munitionibus erant repentina
obsidione conclusit.”
[679] Ord. Vit. 774 C. “Cives Heliam multum diligebant,
ideoque dominatum ejus magis quam Normannorum affectabant….
Porro Helias a gaudentibus urbanis civitate susceptus est.”
Wace (14884) strongly brings out the general zeal for
Helias, though he has his own explanation for it;
“Cil del Mans od li se teneient,
D’avancier li s’entremetteient,
E li homes de la loée
Esteient tuit à sa criée.
E li baron de la cuntrée
Orent por li mainte medlée;
Mult le preisoent et amoent,
Et à seignor le desiroent,
_Com costumes est de plusors,
Ki conveitent novels seignors_.
Par espeir des veisins chastels
E par consence des Mansels,
Helies el Mans s’embati,
E cil del Mans l’unt recoilli.”
Helias however was not a new lord, a fact which Wace’s
confused order puts out of sight. On the somewhat different
tone of the Biographer of the Bishops, see Appendix KK.
[680] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Municipes qui munimenta regis
servabant omnibus necessariis pleniter abundabant, et
idcirco usque ad mortem pro domini sui fidelitate prœliari
satagebant.”
[681] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 266.
[682] Ord. Vit. 774 D. “Galterius Ansgerii filius custos
arcis jussit fabris quos secum habebat operari, scoriam
quoque candentem super tecta domorum a balistariis impetuose
jactari. Tunc rutilus Titan sublimes Geminos peragrabat, et
ingenti siccitate mundus arebat, flammeusque turbo
imbricibus aularum insidebat. Sic nimius ignis accensus est,
quo nimium prævalente tota civitas combusta est.” Vet. An.
307. “Illi qui erant in arce, facto vespere ignem maximum
incendentes, in subjectas domos ardentes faculas summa
instantia jactare cœperunt. Ignis vero flante Euro
convalescens totam civitatem cum magna parte suburbiorum
consumpsit.” For Bishop Hildebert’s view of the matter, see
Appendix KK.
[683] Vet. An. 307. “Quo incendio populus stupefactus atque
in mœstitiam conversus non satis fidum comiti præstabat
auxilium.”
[684] The work of destruction which has been done in modern
times at Paris and Rouen seems a trifle compared to the
merciless havoc wrought at Le Mans. It amounts almost to a
physical destruction of the city. The hill has been cut
through to make a road from the modern part of the town to
the river. This has involved breaking through the Roman
walls, cutting through the _Vielle Rome_ and the other
ancient streets, sweeping away the finest of the Romanesque
houses, dividing in short the hill and the ancient city into
two parts severed by a yawning gap. The mediæval wall has
further been broken down and made into a picturesque ruin.
When I was first at Le Mans in 1868, the city was still
untouched; in 1876 the havoc was doing; by 1879 it was done.
Some conceited mayor or prefect doubtless looks on all this
brutal destruction as a noble exploit.
[685] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 267.
[686] Vet. An. 307. “Comes contra munitiones machinas atque
tormenta ad jactandos lapides erigens, eos qui intus erant
summo conamine expugnare nitebatur. At illi contra machinas
ejus machinas facientes, omnia ejus molimina frustrabant.”
Ord. Vit. 774 D. “Helias et sui frustra machinis et
assultibus valde laboraverunt; sed contra inexpugnabiles
munitiones nihil prævaluerunt.” So Wace, 14898;
“Li Mans li unt abandoné,
Tot, forz la tor de la cité.
La tor se tint, Mansels l’asistrent,
Tot environ li borc porpristrent.”
[687] Ord. Vit. 774 D. “Rodbertus Belesmensis Balaonem
munivit.”
[688] Ord. Vit. 774 D. “Cursorem suum Amalchisum confestim
ad regem in Angliam direxit.” We do not get the name
anywhere else. Wace (14902) well brings out the opposition
of “Normanz” and “Mansels;”
“Normanz ki la tor desfendirent
Quant la force des Mancels virent,
En Engleterre unt envéié,
De secors unt li reis préié,
L’adventure li unt mandée,
E des Mansels la trestornée.”
[689] See Appendix PP. It is _Normant_ and _Mansels_ in the
new edition of Andresen, 9803.
[690] See Appendix PP.
[691] Ord. Vit. 775 A. “Ibi, ut moris est in æstate, plures
utriusque ordinis adstabant, et visa rate de Anglia
velificante, ut aliquid novi ediscerent, alacres
exspectabant.”
[692] Ib. “In primis de rege sciscitantibus ipse certus de
se adfuit nuntius.” So in Greek, αὐτὸς ἄγγελος [autys
angelos].
[693] Ib. B. “Et quia ex insperato respondit ridens,
percunctantibus admiratio exorta est, mox et lætitia
omnibus.”
[694] Ib. “Deinde cujusdam presbyteri equa vectus, cum magno
cœtu clericorum et rusticorum qui pedites eum cum ingenti
plausu conducebant, Bonamvillam expetiit.”
[695] See N. C. vol. iii. pp. 241, 696. As commonly happens
with so-called local tradition, a tower not earlier than the
thirteenth century is shown as the place of Harold’s
lodging, while in another tower the wide splay of a narrow
window is shown as the strait prison-house of Robert of
Bellême.
[696] Ord. Vit. 775 B. “Tandem directis legationibus
ingentem exercitum in brevi aggregavit, et hostilem
provinciam depopulatum festinavit.”
[697] Ib. “Agmen hostium cum Helia duce suo, statim ut regem
citra fretum venisse comperit, absque procrastinatione
fugiens invasam urbem multo pejorem quam invenerat
deseruit.” The turn in the Biographer (Vet. An. 307) is
somewhat different; “Cernens quia nihil proficeret, et quod
ejus paulatim dilaberetur exercitus, regisque timore
perterritus, qui cum maximo exercitu suis properabat
succurrere, propriæ saluti consulens, relicta obsidione
repente a civitate discessit.” In Orderic Helias might be
thought to be carried away by the flight of his followers;
in the Biographer he almost seems to forsake them.
[698] Ord. Vit. 775 C. “Tunc Helias cum ingenti militia
castro Ligeri morabatur, seseque ad meliora tempora
reservans, exitum rei præstolabatur.”
[699] Vet. An. 307. “Quo comperto, quatenus timor simul ac
stupor animos civium invaserit, et quanta populi multitudo
cum mulieribus et parvulis relictis omnibus quæ habebant eum
secuta sit … miserum est audire.”
[700] Ord. Vit. 775 B. “Animosus rex, hostium audito
recessu, pedetentim eos sectatus est, et Cænomannis nec una
nocte eum hospitari dignatus est. Verum concrematam urbem
pertransiens vidit, et ultra pontem Egueniæ in _epitimio_
spatioso tentoria figi præcepit.” This strange word
“epitimium” must be the same as that which he uses in 659 B,
where the site of the great battle is placed “in _epitumo_
Senlac.” I there took it to mean a hill, and I gave Orderic
credit for knowing that Senlac was a hill; but I fear that I
must withdraw that praise, as here the word can only mean a
plain. See Ducange in Epitumum. It must be from this word
that some local blunderer first drew the notion, which I
have seen repeated since I wrote my third volume, that
Senlac was once called _Epiton_.
[701] Ib. This was done, “ne malivoli prædones … _domata_
ubi ad capessendam quietem strata sibi coaptarent.” Orderic
adds, “sic profecto Valles et Ostilliacum consumpta sunt,
aliaque quamplurima oppida et rura penitus pessumdata sunt.”
Helias, after all, was not Harold.
[702] Ord. Vit. 775 B. “Robertus de Monteforti princeps
militiæ cum quingentis militibus agmina præcessit, incendium
castri de Vallibus extinxit, munitionemque ad opus regis
confirmavit.”
[703] On the site of Mayet, and the versions of the siege,
see Appendix QQ. Wace brings it in thus; I quote the text of
Andresen, 9929 (15026 of Pluchet);
“Li quens Helies s’en parti,
Al chastel del Leir reverti.
Donc ueissiez guerre esmoueir
Del Mans e del chastel del Leir
E de Maiet, un chastelet,
Ou Mansel orent pris recet.
Tresqu’al borc que l’endit la Fesse
Fu la guerre forte e espesse.”
[704] Ord. Vit. 775 C. “Feria vi. rex Maiatum obsedit, et in
crastinum expugnare castrum exercitui jussit.”
[705] Ib. “Sabbato, dum bellatores certatim armarentur, et
acrem assultum castrensibus dare molirentur.”
[706] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 243.
[707] Ord. Vit. 775 C. “Rex consultu sapientum [mid his
witena geþeaht] Deo gloriam dedit, et pro reverentia
Dominicæ sepulturæ et resurrectionis hostibus pepercit,
eisque trevias usque in Lunæ diem annuit.”
[708] Ib. “Erant viri constantes dominoque suo fideles,
ideoque pertinaciter pro illo usque ad mortem pugnaces, et
exemplo probabilis probitatis prædicabiles.”
[709] Ord. Vit. 775 C. “Interea ipsi castrum interius toto
annisu munierunt, et in assultum virgeas crates ictibus
missilium lapidumque opposuerunt.”
[710] Wace, 15038;
“Maiet ert bien clos de fossé
Tot environ parfont è lé;
Li reis ros por mielx assaillir
Volt li fossé d’atrait emplir.”
Robert of Bellême then counsels him;
“Cil dist el rei k’atrait falleit,
E ke attait querre estueit,
Jà li chastel nel cunquerreit,
Se li fossé d’atrait n’empleit.”
The King gives his orders;
“E li reis li dist, en gabant,
Ke à chescun chevalier mant
Roncin, mule, ou palefrei,
Ne pot aveir altre charrei,
Trestuit quant k’il porra baillier,
E fossé fasse tresbuchier.”
[711] Ib.
“Robert s’en torna sorriant,
Et à plusors de l’ost gabant
Ke li reis aveit comandé
Ke l’en getast tot el fossé,
Kank’as servanz veindreit as mains,
Tuit li chevals è li vilains.”
[712] Froissart, i. 152. ed. 1559. “Quand le roy de France
veit les Génevois retourner, il dit, Or tost tuez ceste
ribaudaille; car ils nous empescheront la voye sans raison.”
Compare also the language of Bayard about the German
_roturiers_ quoted in vol. i. p. 173.
[713] Wace, 15066;
“Par tels semblanz è par tels diz
Fu li pople tot estormiz.
Del siège s’en torment fuiant,
E plusors vunt par gap criant:
Filz a putains, fuiez, fuiez,
Toz estes morz s’un poi targiez;
Se ci poez estre entrepris,
Jà sereiz tut el fossé mis.”
[714] Ord. Vit. 775 D. “Cum forinseci pugnatores admodum
insudarent, ut ingenti strue lignorum cingentem fossam
implerent, viamque sibi usque ad palum pluribus
sustentamentis magnopere substratis publice præpararent,
oppidani _flascas prunis ardentibus plenas_ desuper
demittebant, et congestiones rerum quæ ad sui damnum
accumulatæ fuerant, adminiculante sibi æstivo _caumate_
prorsus concremabant.” What was the exact form of the
“flascæ”?
[715] Ord. Vit. 775 D. “Hujusmodi conflictu feria ii. mutuo
vexabantur, et hæc videns rex nimis anxiabatur.”
[716] Ib. “Porro dum ira et dolore torqueretur quod omnes
ibidem conatus illius cassarentur, quidam ad illum de
sublimi zeta lapidem projecit, nutu Dei non illum sed
adstantis athletæ caput immaniter percussit, et ossa cerebro
non parcente ictu commiscuit.”
[717] Ib. “Illo itaque coram rege miserabiliter occumbente,
subsannatio castrensium continuo facta est, cum alto et
horribili clamore: ‘Ecce rex modo recentes habet carnes;
deferantur ad coquinam, ut ei exhibeantur ad cœnam.’”
[718] Ib. 776 A. “Prudentes enim consiliarii provide
considerabant quod in munitione validissima magnanimi
pugiles resistebant, munitique firmis conclavibus contra
detectos multiplicibus modis facile prævalebant.” This
argument, one would think, might have been brought against
every military undertaking of the time.
[719] Ord. Vit. 776 A. “Alio ulciscendi genere inimicus
puniret, et sic suæ genti sospitatem et hostium dejectionem
callide procuraret.”
[720] Ib. “Mane celeres surrexerunt, ac diversis ad
desolationem hostilis patriæ ferramentis usi sunt. Vineas
enim exstirpaverunt, fructiferas arbores succiderunt,
macerias et parietes dejecerunt, totamque regionem, quæ
uberrima erat, igne et ferro desolaverunt.”
[721] Vet. An. 307. “Hi qui in civitate remanserant quam
crudeliter et quam inhumane ab hostibus sint oppressi, et
miserum est audire et nimis tædiosæ prolixitatis exponere.”
[722] Ord. Vit. 776 A. “Rex Cenomannis triumphans accessit.”
[723] Vet. An. 307. “Nisi regis liberalitas prædonum
sævientium rapacitatem compesceret, diebus illis pro certo
civitas nostra ad extremum pervenisset excidium.”
[724] This appears from the account of Hildebert’s troubles
somewhat later (Vet. An. 309); first among which comes
“clericorum quos violentia regis ab urbe eliminaverat
dispersio mœstissima.”
[725] Ord. Vit. 776 A. “Multarum tribubus provinciarum
licentiam remeandi ad sua donavit.”
[726] Vet. An. 307. “Denique rex civitate pro suo potitus
arbitrio, et positis in ea custodiis, iterum in Angliam
reversus est.” Our own Chronicler (1099) sums up the whole
campaign; “And sona þæræfter [after Pentecost] ofer sǽ
fór, and þone eorl Elias of þære Manige adraf, and bi syððan
on his gewealde gesætte, and swa to S[~c]e Michaeles mæssan
aft hider to lande com.”
[727] See above, p. 234.
[728] Ord. Vit. 775 B. “Ildebertus pontifex in Normannia
regem humiliter aggressus est, et ab eo ut familiaris amicus
benigniter susceptus est. Non enim consilio neque præsentia
sui prædictis perturbationibus interfuerat.”
[729] An. Vet. 308. “Quidam ex clericis a principio
promotioni præsulis invidentes, et dolos tota die contra eum
meditantes, illum apud regem graviter accusabant, nuntiantes
eum conscium fuisse proditionis quando Helias comes
_consentientibus civibus_ civitatem occupavit et milites
regis in munitionibus obsedit. Unde eum rex suspectum
habens, et contra eum semper occasiones quærens, instanter
atque pertinaciter ab eo exigebat ut aut turres ecclesiæ,
_unde sibi damnum illatum fuisse querebatur_, dirui
præciperet, aut post ipsum remota omni occasione in Angliam
transfretaret.”
[730] Ann. Vet. 308. “Qui licet invitus, regis tamen urgente
imperio, vellet nollet, maris pericula subire coactus est.”
He is himself (Duchèsne, iv. 248) specially eloquent on this
head; “Quia turres ecclesiæ nostræ dejicere nolumus,
transmarinis subjiciendi judiciis, coacti sumus injurias
pelagi sustinere, singularem scilicet molestiam itineris
atque _unicam totius humanæ compaginis dissolutionem_.”
[731] Vet. An. 308. “Ibique eum rex iterum stimulantibus
æmulis de turrium destructione cœpit vehementer urgere,
eique ob hanc causam intolerabilem inferre molestiam.”
[732] Ib. “Obtulit pontifici maximum pondus auri et argenti,
unde sepulcrum beati Juliani honorifice, immo ad ignominiam
sempiternam, fieri potuisset. Nam talis instabat conditio ut
statim turres ecclesiæ delerentur.” He calls this a “pactio
toxicata.”
[733] Ib. “Nos caremus in partibus nostris artificibus qui
tantum opus congrue noverint operari; exhinc regiæ congruit
dispositioni tam diligens opera et impensa, in cujus regno
et mirabiles refulgent artifices et mirabilem operantur
cælaturam.” See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 41, 85, 86, 93.
[734] Ib. “Detulit plane duo pretiosa cimbala, et optimam
cappam de pallio et duas pelves argenteas cum aliis
ornamentis.”
[735] See Appendix RR.
[736] See Appendix RR.
[737] See vol. i. p. 566.
[738] See vol. i. p. 622.
[739] The true text of the Annales Cambriæ, 1099, is clearly
that which the editor thrusts into a note; “Cadugaun filius
Bledin de Hibernia rediens, pacificatus est cum Francis et
partem regni sui accepit. Lewelin filius Cadugaun ab
hominibus de Brecheiniauc occiditur. Grifud filius Kenan
Moniam obsedit.”
The Brut might imply a peaceful settlement of Gruffydd.
[740] Ann. Camb. 1099.
[741] See above, p. 146.
[742] Chron. Petrib. 1099. “Ðises geares eac on S[~c]e
Martines Mæssedæg, asprang up to þan swiðe sæ flod, and swa
mycel to hearme gedyde swa nan man ne gemunet, þæt hit æfre
æror dyde and wæs þæs ylcan dæges luna prima.” This is
translated in the Roman annals in Liebermann, p. 47.
[743] Chron. Petrib. 1099. “And Osmund biscop of Searbyrig
innon aduent forðferde.” Florence gives the exact date,
December 3.
[744] There is nothing special to note as to the authorities
for this chapter. Our main story still comes from the same
sources from which it has long come. Possibly the importance
of Orderic, long growing, grows yet greater at the very end
of our tale. And we still make a certain use of Wace. The
story of the death of William Rufus is one of those in which
it is desirable to look in all manner of quarters to which
we should not commonly think of turning, not so much in
search of facts, as to see how such a story impressed men’s
minds, and what forms it took in various hands.
[745] See the entry in the Chronicle, 1087.
[746] See Plutarch, Periklês, 8.
[747] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 161.
[748] Ord. Vit. 781 D. We shall come to this again.
[749] Ann. Burton, 1100.
[750] The three assemblies are recorded in the Chronicle in
a marked way; “On þison geare se cyng W. heold his hired to
X[~p]es mæssa on Gleaweceastre, and to Eastron on
Winceastre, and to Pentecosten on Westmynstre.”
[751] See vol. i. p. 623.
[752] The portrait of Sibyl is drawn by William of
Malmesbury, iv. 389, where she appears as “Filia Willelmi de
Conversana, quam rediens in Apuliam duxerat, cujus
elegantissimæ speciei prodigium vix ullius disertitudinis
explicabit conatus.” So Orderic, 780 A; “Hæc nimirum bonis
moribus floruit, et multis honestatibus compta, his qui
noverant illam amabilis extitit.” The continuator of William
of Jumièges (viii. 14) goes further; “Fuit vero prædicta
comitissa pulcra facie, honesta moribus, sapientia præclara,
et aliquando absente duce ipsa melius per se negotia
provinciæ, tam privata quam publica, disponebat, quam ipse
faceret si adesset.” Wace (15422) calls her Sebire, and
speaks only of her personal beauty. She was the mother of
William Clito who plays so conspicuous a part in Henry’s
reign. According to William of Malmesbury she died at his
birth in 1103, but Orderic (810 A) tells a strange story how
she was poisoned by Agnes the widow of the old Earl Walter
Giffard, who hoped to marry the Duke. The more general
statement in the continuation of William of Jumièges is to
the same effect.
[753] Will. Malms, iv. 389. “Pecuniam infinitam, quam ei
socer dotis nomine annumeraverat, ut ejus commercio
Normanniam exueret vadimonio, ita dilapidavit ut pauculis
diebus nec nummus superesset.”
[754] All these stories are told by William of Malmesbury,
v. 439.
[755] Orderic (780 B) allows only thirty thousand. In
William of Malmesbury (iv. 349, 383) they have grown into
sixty thousand. Figures of this kind, whether greater or
smaller, are always multiples of one another.
[756] Ord. Vit. 780 B. “Is nimirum decrevit Guillelmo Ruffo,
regi Anglorum, Aquitaniæ ducatum, totamque terram suam
invadiare, censumque copiosum abundanter ab illius ærario
haurire, unde nobiliter expleret iter, quod cupiebat inire.
Eloquentes itaque legatos ad regem direxit eique quod mente
volvebat per eosdem insinuavit.”
[757] Orderic (780 C) describes the ambition of the
“pomposus sceptriger” whose yearning for dominion was like
the thirst of a dropsical man, and then tells us, “Maximam
jussit classem præparari, et ingentem equitatum de Anglia
secum comitari, ut pelago transfretato, in armis ceu leo
supra prædam præsto consisteret, fratrem ab introitu
Neustriæ bello abigeret. Aquitaniæ ducatum pluribus argenti
massis emeret, et, obstantibus sibi bello subactis, usque ad
Garumnam fluvium _imperii sui_ fines dilataret.”
[758] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 539.
[759] I have quoted the passages in N. C. vol. v. p. 99.
[760] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 640.
[761] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 609, 650, 843.
[762] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 843. Orderic’s account (780 C)
is; “Tunc circa rogationes lugubris eventus in Nova-foresta
contigit. Dum regii milites venatu exercerentur, et damulas
vel cervos catapultis sauciare molirentur, quidam miles
sagittam, ut agrestem feram vulneraret, emisit, egregiumque
juvenem Ricardum Rodberti ducis filium casu percussit.”
[763] Orderic goes on to say, “Eques, infortunio gravi
territus, ad sanctum Pancratium statim confugit, ibique mox
monachus factus genuinam ultionem ita evasit.” “Sanctus
Pancratius” means Lewes, the foundation of William of
Warren.
[764] So says Orderic, u. s.
[765] See above, p. 5.
[766] Florence (1100) gives a long list of wonders. Among
others, “Multis Normannis diabolus in horribili specie se
frequenter in silvis ostendens, plura cum eis de rege et
Rannulfo et quibusdam aliis locutus est.” Orderic (781 B)
does not draw this national distinction, and speaks of
visions in holier places; “Mense Julio (1100), dum regia
classis regalis pompæ apparatu instrueretur, et ipse
pervicaciter, immensa pretiosi metalli pondera undecunque
congerens, prope fretum præstolaretur, horrendæ visiones de
rege in cœnobiis et episcopiis ab utrisque ordinibus visæ
sunt, unde in populis publicæ collocutiones in foris et
cœmeteriis passim divulgatæ sunt, ipsum quoque regem minime
latuerunt.”
[767] See that strangest of all stories which I have
referred to in Appendix G.
[768] The consecration and the bishops who had a hand in it
are recorded by Florence, 1100. But he does not mention the
other Gloucester stories; these come from Orderic, who does
not mention the consecration. The two accounts thus fit in
to one another. We see why the monks of Gloucester should be
in a special fit of exalted devotion.
[769] Ord. Vit. 781 B, C. The dreamer was “quidam monachus
bonæ famæ, sed melioris vitæ.” He at last understands
“sanctæ virginis et matris ecclesiæ clamores pervenisse ad
aures Domini, pro rapinis et turpibus mœchiis, aliorumque
facinorum sarcina intolerabili, quibus rex et pedissequi
ejus non desistunt divinam legem quotidie transgredi.”
[770] Ib. “His auditis, venerandus Serlo abbas commonitorios
apices edidit, et amicabiliter de Gloucestra regi direxit,
in quibus illa quæ monachus in visu didicerat luculenter
inseruit.” This letter of Serlo’s will appear under various
shapes.
[771] Ib. C, D.
[772] “Fulcheredus, Sagiensis fervens monachus,
Scrobesburiensis archimandrita primus, in divinis
tractatibus explanator profluus, de grege seniorum electus,
in pulpitum ascendit.”
[773] “Quasi prophetico spiritu plenus, inter cætera
constanter vaticinatus dixit.”
[774] “Effrenis enim superbia ubique volitat, et omnia, si
dici fas est, etiam stellas cæli conculcat.”
[775] See above, p. 310.
[776] “Ecce arcus superni furoris contra reprobos intensus
est, et sagitta velox ad vulnerandum de pharetra extracta
est. Repente jam feriet, seseque corrigendo sapiens omnis
ictum declinet.” I tell the tale as I find it; it is easy to
guess that the Abbot’s preaching put it into some one’s head
to shoot the King; it is equally easy to guess that the
story of the sermon is a legend suggested by the fact that
the King was shot.
[777] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 498.
[778] On these various stories of the death of Rufus and of
the warnings which went before it, see Appendix SS.
[779] See N. C. vol. i. p. 276.
[780] As to the New Forest all accounts agree. I get
Brockenhurst as the immediate spot from Geoffrey Gaimar,
Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 51;
“Li rois estoit alé chacer
Vers Bukerst od li archer:
C’est en la Noeve-Forest
Un liu qi ad non Brokeherst.”
For _Bukerst_ in the second line another MS. has _Brokehest_.
[781] See above, p. 45.
[782] See below, p. 345.
[783] See Appendix SS.
[784] See vol. i. p. 380.
[785] See Appendix SS.
[786] Geoffrey Gaimar (Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 52);
“Ensemble vout amdiu parlant,
De meinte chose esbanoiant,
Tant qe Wauter prist à gaber
Et par engin au roi parler;
Demanda lui en riant
A quei il sojournoit tant.”
[787] Geoffrey Gaimar, Chron. Anglo-Norm. i. 52;
“Breton, Mansel et Angevin.”
[788] See vol. i. p. 411.
[789] Geoffrey Gaimar, u. s.;
“Cil de _Boloine_ te tienent roi.
Eustace, cil de Boloigne,
Poez mener en ta besoigne.”
Another manuscript reads,
“Cil de _Burgoine_ te unt pur roi.”
[790] Ib.
“D’ici q’as monz merrai ma guet,
En occident puis m’en irrai,
A Peiters ma feste tendrai.
Si jo tant vif, mon fié i serra.”
[791] Geoffrey Gaimar, Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 52;
“De male mort pussent morir
Li Burgoinon et li François,
Si souzget soient as Englois!”
Cf. the use of the word _English_ in Orderic and Suger which
I have commented on in N. C. vol. v. p. 835.
[792] Will. Malms. iv. 333. “Tanta vis erat animi, ut
quodlibet sibi regnum promittere auderet. Denique ante
proximam diem mortis interrogatus ubi festum suum in natali
teneret, respondit Pictavis, quod comes Pictavensis,
Jerosolymam ire gestiens, ei terram suam pro pecunia
invadaturus dicebatur.” See above, p. 313.
[793] Geoffrey Gaimar, u. s.;
“Li rois par _gab_ li avoit dit;
Et cil come fel le requit
En son queor tint la félonie,
Purpensa soi d’une estoutie:
S’il jà lui veeir porreit,
Tut autrement le plait irroit.”
[794] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “And þæræfter on morgen æfter
Hlammæsse dæge wearð se cyng Willelm on huntnoðe fram his
anan men mid anre fla ofsceoten and syððan to Winceastre
gebroht, and on þam biscoprice bebyrged.” The _bishopric_ of
course means the Old Minster, the _episcopium_.
[795] “Radulphus de Aquis,” says Giraldus, De Inst. Princ.
176. See below, p. 335. We are not told which of all the
places called Aquæ is meant.
[796] See Appendix SS.
[797] On the different versions of the death of Rufus, see
Appendix SS.
[798] William of Malmesbury (iv. 333) describes the process
with some pomp of words; “Pridie quam excederet vita, vidit
per quietem se phlebotomi ictu sanguinem emittere, radium
cruoris in cælum usque protentum lucem obnubilare, diem
interpolare.” But the common word for being bled is
“minuere” (see Ducange in voc.), and the many monastic rules
which forbid the practice of bleeding except at stated times
would seem to imply that the process, if not liked in
itself, was at least made use of as an excuse for idleness.
[799] Ib. “Lumen inferri præcipit.” This is a comment on the
reform of Henry (v. 393), “Lucernarum usum noctibus in curia
restituit, qui fuerat tempore fratris intermissus.”
[800] Ib. “Quod ei a secretis erat.” Robert is also
described as “vir magnatum princeps.”
[801] Ib. “Monachus est et causa nummorum monachaliter
somniat; date ei centum solidos.”
[802] “Seriis negotiis cruditatem indomitæ mentis eructuans”
is the odd phrase of William of Malmesbury.
[803] Will. Malms. v. 333. “Ferunt, ea die largiter
epulatum, crebrioribus quam consueverat poculis frontem
serenasse.” This phrase is almost equally odd with the last.
[804] Ord. Vit. 782 A. “Cum hilaris cum clientibus suis
tripudiaret, ocreasque suas calcearet, quidam faber illuc
advenit, et sex catapultas ei præsentavit.”
[805] “Justum est, ut illi acutissimæ dentur sagittæ, qui
lethiferos inde noverit ictus infigere.”
[806] “Abbatis sui litteras regi porrexit, _quibus auditis_,
rex in cachinnum resolutus est.”
[807] Ord. Vit. 782 A. “Gualteri, fac rectum de his quæ
audisti. At ille: Sic faciam, domine.” I do not quite see
what these words mean.
[808] “Ex simplicitate nimia, mihi tot negotiis occupato
somnia stertentium retulit, et per plura terrarum spatia
scripto etiam inserta destinavit. Num prosequi me ritum
autumat Anglorum, qui pro sternutatione et somnio vetularum
dimittunt iter suum seu negotium?”
[809] He is brought in as “Henricus comes frater ejus.”
[810] “Cum rex et Gualterius de Pice cum paucis sodalibus in
nemore constituti essent,” says Orderic; “Solus cum eo
[Walterio] remanserat,” says William of Malmesbury.
[811] This is the version of Geoffrey Gaimar. See Appendix
SS.
[812] Thus the English took each a morsel of earth in their
mouths before the battle of Azincourt. See Lingard, v. 498.
[813] This is the version of Benoît de Sainte More. See
Appendix SS.
[814] So William of Malmesbury. See Appendix SS.
[815] So Orderic. See Appendix SS.
[816] As in Benoît’s account. So Matthew Paris in the
Historia Anglorum. See Appendix SS. This seems to have
become the most popular version.
[817] This is one of two accounts which reached Eadmer.
Hist. Nov. 54. “Quæ sagitta, utrum, sicut quidam aiunt,
jacta ipsum percusserit, an, quod plures affirmant, illum
pedibus offendentem superque ruentem occiderit, disquirere
otiosum putamus.”
[818] This tale, some of the details of which have become
popular, is preserved by Matthew Paris, and in a fuller form
by Knighton. See Appendix SS.
[819] This is from Giraldus Cambrensis. See Appendix SS.
[820] This is the line taken by Florence. It is at this
point that he brings in his account of the making of the New
Forest (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 841), and of the deaths of the
two Richards in it. He then adds; “In loco quo rex occubuit
priscis temporibus ecclesia fuerat constructa, sed patris
sui tempore, ut prædiximus, erat diruta.” Sir Francis
Palgrave naturally makes the most of this, and with fine
effect; iv. 9, 680, 682.
[821] Orderic (782 D) says that they brought his body,
“veluti ferocem aprum venabulis confossum.” We get the same
idea a little improved in William of Newburgh (i. 2), who
says, “Quippe _in venatione sagitta proprii militis_ homo
ferocissimus pro fera confossus interiit.” (The words in
Italics must be a translation of the Chronicle.) The full
developement comes in Thomas Wykes (Ann. Mon. iv. 13), who
must surely have had William of Newburgh before him. He,
like Giraldus and others (see above, p. 322), looked on
Rufus as the maker of the New Forest, if not as the inventor
of forests in general. “Rex Willelmus Angliæ, dictus Rufus,
qui pro eo quod accipitrum et canum ludicris quasi se totum
dederat, totum fere regnum Angliæ in multorum perniciem et
omnium regnicolarum dispendium primus afforestavit,
propellentibus eum ad interitum peccatis suis, a quodam
milite suo Waltero Tyrel, in Nova Foresta, tanquam pro fera,
confossus sagitta quadam, vulneratus interiit.”
[822] This is Geoffrey Gaimar’s story (i. 55). See Appendix
TT.
[823]
“Li filz Ricard erent cil dui,
Quens Gilebert e dan _Roger_,
Cil furent preisé chevaler.”
But _Roger_ ought to be _Richard_.
[824] This is from Orderic, whose story is essentially the
same as that of William of Malmesbury. See Appendix TT.
[825] This is all brought out most plainly by Orderic; but
the less distinct words of William of Malmesbury and others
in no sort contradict Orderic, and in truth look the same
way.
[826] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 599.
[827] See Appendix TT.
[828] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. ii. 6. 55. “Intulit idem venerabilis
abbas sub testimonio veritatis proxime præterita nocte
eumdem regem ante thronum Dei accusatum, judicatum,
sententiamque damnationis in eum promulgatam.”
[829] Ib. 56. “Juvenis ornatu ac vultu non vilis” speaks to
the clerk, “qui prope ostium cameræ jacebat, et necdum
dormiens, oculos tamen ad somnum clausos tenebat.” The
message runs thus; “Pro certo noveris quia totum dissidium
quod est inter archiepiscopum Anselmum et Willelmum regem
determinatum est atque sedatum.”
[830] Eadmer, Vit. Ans. ii. 6. 56. “Sequenti autem nocte
inter matutinas unus nostrum clausis oculis stabat et
psallebat. Et ecce illi quidam chartulam admodum parvam
legendam exhibuit. Aspexit, et in ea, obiit rex Willelmus,
scriptum invenit. Confestim aperuit oculos, et nullum vidit
præter socios.” None of these stories are found in the
Historia Novorum, but they are copied by Roger of Wendover,
ii. 159.
[831] Matthew Paris, Hist. Angl. i. 71. “Eadem hora comes
Cornubiæ in silva ab illa qua hoc acciderat per duas dietas
distante, dum venatum iret, et solus casu a suis
derelinqueretur sodalibus, obvium habuit unum magnum pilosum
et nigrum hircum ferentem unum regem nigrum et nudum, per
medium pectoris sauciatum.”
[832] Ib. “Et adjuratus hircus per Deum trinum et unum, quid
hoc esset, respondit, Fero ad judicium suum regem vestrum,
imo tyrannum, Willelmum Rufum. Malignus enim spiritus sum,
et ultor malitiæ suæ, qua desævit in ecclesiam Christi; et
hanc necem suam procuravi, imperante prothomartire Angliæ
beato Albano, qui conquestus est Domino quod in insulam
Britanniæ, cujus ipse fuit primus sacrator, supra modum
grassaretur. Comes igitur hæc statim sociis enarravit.”
Wonders, though not quite so wonderful as this, reached
Devonshire as well as Cornwall. Walter Map (223) tells us,
“Eadem die Petro de Melvis, viro de partibus Exoniæ, persona
quædam vilis et fœda, telum ferens cruentum, cursitans
apparavit dicens, Hoc telum hodie regem vestrum perfodit.”
[833] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “Swa þæt þæs dæges þe he gefeoll
he heafde on his agenre hand þæt arcebiscoprice on
Cantwarbyrig, and þæt bisceoprice on Winceastre, and þæt on
Searbyrig, and xi. abbotrices, ealle to gafle gesette.” This
is copied by various writers.
[834] See vol. i. p. 279.
[835] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “On þæne Þunresdæg he wæs
ofslagen, and þæs on morgen bebyrged. And syðþan he bebyrged
wæs, þa witan þe þa neh handa wæron his broðer Heanrig to
cynge gecuran.”
[836] This story, to which we have already referred (see
above, p. 321), is told by Wace, 15194 et seqq. The words of
the prophetess are;
“Amis, dist-el, or sai, or sai,
Une novele te dirai;
Henris iert Reis hastivement,
Se mis augures ne ment;
Remembre tei de ço k’ai dit,
Ke cil iert Reis jusqu’à petit;
Se ço n’est veir ke jo te di,
Dire porras ke j’ai menti.”
Here again I can only tell the story as I find it in a
writer whose authority at this stage is not first-rate. It
is easy to say (see N. C. vol. v. p. 824) that it points to
a known plot for the King’s murder. It is equally easy to
say that the story is a mere fable suggested by what
followed. In short, where there is no real evidence, it is
easy to make any guesses that we think good.
[837] Wace, 15194 seqq.;
“Jà esteit près del boiz venuz,
Quant un hoem est del boiz issuz,
Poiz vindrent dui, poiz vindrent trei,
Poiz noef, poiz dis à grant desrei,
Ki li distrent la mort li rei.”
Wace’s way of piling up numbers reminds us of his arithmetic
at the assembly of Lillebonne. See N. C. vol. iii. p. 295.
[838] Ib.
“Et il ala mult tost poignant
La à il sout la dolor grant,
Dunc crust li dols, dunc crust li plors,
E crust la noise è li dolors.”
[839] Ord. Vit. 782 C. “Henricus concito cursu ad arcem
Guentoniæ, ubi regalis thesaurus continebatur, festinavit,
et claves ejus, ut genuinus hæres, _imperiali_ jussu ab
excubitoribus exegit.”
[840] See the story in Plutarch, Cæsar, 25; Merivale, ii.
154.
[841] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Legaliter, inquit, reminisci fidei
debemus, quam Rodberto duci, germano tuo, promisimus. Ipse
nimirum primogenitus est Guillelmi regis filius, et ego et
tu, domine mi Henrice, hominium illi fecimus. Quapropter tam
absenti quam præsenti fidelitas a nobis servanda est in
omnibus.” “Legaliter” is of course to be construed
“loyally.”
[842] Ord. Vit. 782 C. “Inter hæc aspera lis oriri cœpit, et
ex omni parte multitudo virorum illuc confluxit, atque
præsentis hæredis qui suum jus calumniabatur virtus crevit.
Henricus manum ad capulum vivaciter misit et gladium exemit,
nec extraneum quemlibet per frivolam procrastinationem
patris sceptrum præoccupare permisit.”
Not only is all this graphically told; but every word is of
political importance. Whether the exact words which are put
into the mouth of William of Breteuil are his or Orderic’s,
they clearly set forth the doctrines which were creeping in.
Orderic himself speaks for the English people, as the
English people doubtless did speak.
[843] Orderic and William of Malmesbury are the fullest on
the election; but it is distinctly marked everywhere. See
Appendix UU.
[844] See N. C. vol. i. p. 486.
[845] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 529.
[846] The speed with which events happened is strongly
marked by the Chronicler. As soon as Henry is chosen, “he
þærrihte þæt biscoprice on Winceastre Willelme Giffarde
geaf, and siþþan to Lundene for.” The appointment is also
recorded by Florence and Henry of Huntingdon. William of
Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 110) says, when speaking of a
somewhat later time, “Willelmus fuerat adhuc recenti
potestate Henrici violenter ad Wintoniensem episcopatum
electus, nec electioni assentiens, immo eligentes asperis
convitiis et minis incessens.” Henry of Huntingdon (De
Contemptu Mundi, 315) speaks of him as “vir nobilissimus.”
Orderic (783 C) marks his former office; “Guillelmo
cognomento Gifardo, qui defuncti regis cancellarius fuerat,
Guentanæ urbis cathedram commisit.”
[847] See the references in N. C. vol. v. p. 225.
[848] Will. Malms. v. 393. “Hæc eo studiosius celebrabantur,
ne mentes procerum electionis quassarentur pœnitudine, quod
ferebatur rumor Robertum Normanniæ comitem ex Apulia
adventantem jam jamque affore.”
[849] Ord. Vit. 783 B. “Henricus, cum Rodberto, comite de
Mellento, Lundoniam properavit.”
[850] Maurice is mentioned as the consecrator by Orderic,
783 B, and by the Chronicler. Orderic is wrong when he gives
as a reason not only that Anselm was absent, but that Thomas
of York was dead. But he was hard to get at, and as he died
three months later, he may very likely have been sick. On
the alleged consecration by Thomas, see Appendix UU.
[851] See vol. i. p. 16, and N. C. vol. iii. p. 561.
[852] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “On þan Sunnandæge þæræfter
toforan þam weofode on Westmynstre Gode and eallan folce
behét ealle þa unriht to aleggenne þe on his broðer timan
wæran, and þa betstan lage to healdene þe on æniges cynges
dæge toforan him stodan.” So more briefly Henry of
Huntingdon; “Sacratus est ibi a Mauricio Londoniensi
episcopo, melioratione legum et consuetudinum optabili
repromissa.” This is the promise, the charter published the
same day was its first fulfilment. These special provisions
must have been an addition to the ordinary coronation oath,
which was taken by Henry in the form prescribed in the
office of Æthelred. Stubbs, Select Charters, 95.
[853] Chron. Petrib. “And hine syððan æfter þam se biscop of
Lundene Mauricius to cynge gehalgode, and him ealle on
þeosan lande to abugan, and aðas sworan, and his men
wurdon.”
[854] William of Malmesbury (v. 393) is emphatic on the
popular joy; “Lætus ergo dies visus est revirescere populis,
cum, post tot anxietatum nubila, serenarum promissionum
infulgebant lumina.” He adds that Henry was crowned
“certatim plausu _plebeio_ concrepante.” The adjective is
important. Orderic (783 C, D) takes the opportunity for an
elaborate panegyric on Henry and his reign. He had already
(782 D), before William is buried, said, “Hoc antea dudum
fuit a Britonibus prophetatum, et hunc Angli optaverunt
habere dominum, quem nobiliter in solio regni noverant
genitum.” The prophecy is given in full in 887 D (see N. C.
vol. v. p. 153); “Succedet Leo justitiæ, ad cujus rugitum
Gallicanæ turres et insulani dracones tremebunt.” For an
“insularis draco” of the same class, see vol. i. p. 124.
[855] Florence marks the charter as granted on the day of
the coronation. He gives a good summary;
“Qui consecrationis suæ die sanctam Dei ecclesiam, quæ
fratris sui tempore vendita erat et ad firmam erat posita,
liberam fecit, ac omnes malas consuetudines et injustas
exactiones quibus regnum Angliæ injuste opprimebatur,
abstulit, pacem firmam in toto regno suo posuit, et teneri
præcepit: legem regis Eadwardi omnibus in commune reddidit,
cum illis emendationibus quibus pater suus illam emendavit:
sed forestas quas ille constituit et habuit in manu sua
retinuit.”
[856] See vol. i. pp. 335-341, and N. C. vol. v. pp.
373-381.
[857] Select Charters, 96. “Sciatis me Dei misericordia et
communi consilio baronum totius regni Angliæ ejusdem regni
regem coronatum esse.”
[858] Ib. 97. “Sanctam Dei ecclesiam imprimis liberam facio,
ita quod nec vendam nec ad firmam ponam.”
[859] See vol. i. p. 338.
[860] See N. C. vol. v. p. 374.
[861] Ib. p. 376.
[862] Select Charters, 97. “Monetagium commune quod
capiebatur per civitates et comitatus quod non fuit tempore
regis Edwardi, hoc ne amodo fiat omnino defendo. Si quis
captus fuerit sive monetarius sive alius cum falsa moneta,
justitia recta inde fiat.”
[863] See vol. i. pp. 345, 394.
[864] Select Charters, 97. “Et si quis pro hæreditate sua
aliquid pepigerat, illud condono, et omnes relevationes quæ
pro rectis hæreditatibus pactæ fuerant.”
[865] See vol. i. p. 338.
[866] Select Charters, 98. “Si quis baronum sive hominum
meorum forisfecerit, non dabit vadium in misericordia
pecuniæ, sicut faciebat tempore patris mei vel fratris mei,
sed secundum modum forisfacti, ita emendabit sicut
emendasset retro a tempore patris mei, in tempore aliorum
antecessorum meorum.”
[867] See N. C. vol. i. p. 758; vol. v. pp. 444, 881.
[868] Select Charters, 98. “Murdra etiam retro ab illa die
qua in regem coronatus fui omnia condono: et ea quæ amodo
facta fuerint, juste emendentur secundum lagam regis
Edwardi.”
[869] Ib. “Forestas communi consensu baronum meorum in manu
mea retinui, sicut pater meus eas habuit.”
[870] Ib. “Militibus qui per loricas terras suas defendunt,
terras dominicarum carrucarum suarum quietas ab omnibus
gildis, et omni opere, proprio dono meo concedo, ut sicut
tam magno allevamine alleviati sint, ita se equis et armis
bene instruant ad servitium meum et ad defensionem regni
mei.” We have had an example of this tenure “per loricam” in
the case of an Englishman T. R. W. in N. C. vol. iv. p. 339.
[871] Select Charters, 98. “Lagam Edwardi regis vobis reddo
cum illis emendationibus quibus pater meus eam emendavit
consilio baronum suorum.” The half-English, half-Latin, form
“laga” should be noticed.
[872] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 325.
[873] See N. C. vol. v. p. 149.
[874] Select Charters, 98. “Si quis aliquid do rebus meis
vel de rebus alicujus post obitum Willelmi regis fratris mei
ceperit, totum cito sine emendatione reddatur, et si quis
inde aliquid retinuerit, ille super quem inventum fuerit
mihi graviter emendabit.”
[875] Roger of Wendover, iii. 293. “Producta est in medium
charta quædam regis Henrici primi, quam iidem barones a
Stephano, Cantuariensi archiepiscopo, ut prædictum est, in
urbe Londoniarum acceperant. Continebat autem hæc charta
quasdam libertates et leges regis Eadwardi sanctæ ecclesiæ
Anglicanæ pariter et magnatibus regni concessas, exceptis
quibusdam libertatibus quas idem rex de suo adjecit.”
[876] See the list in Select Charters, 98. Why does not
Walter Giffard sign as Earl? Or is it his son? William of
Malmesbury (v. 393) seems to speak of a general oath to the
charter on the part of the nobles; “Antiquarum moderationem
legum revocavit in solidum, sacramento suo et omnium
procerum, ne luderentur corroborans.”
[877] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 295; iii. p. 590; v. p. 893.
[878] See N. C. vol. v. p. 602.
[879] On Abbot Simeon, see N. C. vol. iv. pp. 481, 833.
According to the local writers (Anglia Sacra, i. 612;
Stewart, 284) he reached his hundredth year. They have much
to tell of the troubles of the abbey during the vacancy at
the hands of Flambard (Stewart, 276-283). But it seems that
Flambard needed to be stirred up by a local enemy, who, we
are sorry to find, bears an English name and a singular
surname; “vir Belial Ælwinus cognomento Retheresgut, id est
venter pecudis.”
[880] Orderic (783 C, D) mentions all these appointments to
abbeys along with the appointment of William Giffard to
Winchester and that of Gerard to York. It will be remembered
that he fancied that Archbishop Thomas was dead before the
coronation. “Eliense cœnobium dedit Ricardo, Ricardi de
Benefacta filio, Beccensi monacho, et abbatiam Sancti
Edmundi regis et martyris Rodberto juveni Uticensi monacho,
Hugonis Cestrensis comitis filio. Glastoniam quoque commisit
Herluino Cadomensi, et Habundoniam Farisio Malmesburiensi.”
That the appointments were made on the day of the coronation
appears from the two local histories, the Annals of Saint
Eadmund’s in Liebermann, 130, and the two Ely histories,
that in Anglia Sacra, i. 613, and the Liber Eliensis
(Stewart, 284), which largely copies Florence. As Richard
the second Earl of Chester was “filius unicus Hugonis
consulis” (Hen. Hunt. De Contemptu Mundi, 304), and as
Orderic (787 C) calls him “Pulcherrimus puer, quem solum ex
Ermentrude filia Hugonis de Claromonte genuit [Hugo],” it
would follow that Abbot Robert was one of the many natural
children of Earl Hugh. See N. C. vol. v. p. 490. He was
appointed, say the local Annals, “renitentibus monachis.”
[881] Orderic, as we have seen, calls Abbot Richard a son of
Richard of Bienfaite, while the Ely writers call him the son
of Count Gilbert, which must be wrong. Yet they have much to
say about his family, who are oddly spoken of as the
“Ricardi,” along with the “Gifardi.” They tell at length the
story of his deposition, but attribute it to the King rather
than to Anselm. But see Florence, 1102; Eadmer, 67; Ans. Ep.
iii. 140.
[882] See Willis, Glastonbury, p. 9.
[883] Faricius fills a large space in the history of his
abbey. He was a native of Arezzo, and had been cellarer at
Malmesbury; Hist. Ab. ii. 44, 285. He was kept back from the
archbishopric by the scruples of Robert (Bloet) Bishop of
Lincoln and Roger Bishop of Salisbury; Hist. Ab. ii. 287.
[884] William of Malmesbury (v. 393) puts the whole story
emphatically enough; “Ne quid profecto gaudio accumulato
abesset, _Rannulfo nequitiarum fæce_ tenebris ergastularibus
incluso, propter Anselmum pernicibus nuntiis directum.”
Florence also joins the imprisonment of Flambard and the
recall of Anselm; “Nec multo post Dunholmensem episcopum
Rannulfum Lundoniæ in turri custodiæ mancipavit, et
Dorubernensem archiepiscopum Anselmum de Gallia revocavit.”
In the Chronicle we get the Tower named in our own tongue,
as in 1097; “And se cyng sona æfter þam be þære ræde þe him
abutan wæran, þone biscop Rannulf of Dunholme let niman, and
into þam Ture on Lundene lét gebringon and þær healdan.”
[885] See Macaulay, ii. 557.
[886] Ord. Vit. 783 D. “Hugo Cestrensis comes, et Rodbertus
Belesmensis, ac alii optimates, qui erant in Normannia,
audito casu infortunati principis, rerumque mutatione
subita, compositis in Neustria rebus suis, iter in Angliam
acceleraverunt, novoque regi debitam subjectionem
obtulerunt, eique hominio facto, fundos et omnes dignitates
suas cum regiis muneribus ab eo receperunt.” Directly after
he gives a list of the inner council; “Rodbertum scilicet de
Mellento et Hugonem de Cestra, Ricardum de Radvariis et
Rogerium Bigodum, aliosque strenuos et sagaces viros suis
adhibuit consiliis, et quia humiliter sophistis
obsecundavit, merito multis regionibus et populis
imperavit.”
[887] See the extract in the note at p. 361.
[888] See above, p. 341.
[889] Eadmer, 55.
[890] Ib. “Singultu verba ejus interrumpente, asseruit in
ipsa veritate quam servum Dei transgredi non decet, quia, si
hoc efficere posset, multo magis eligeret seipsum corpore
quam illum sicut erat mortuum esse.” So in the Life, ii.
658.
[891] Eadmer, 55. “Ecce alius e fratribus ecclesiæ
Cantuariensis advenit, literas deferens, preces offerens,
quibus obnixe ab Anglorum matre ecclesia interpellatur,
quatenus, extincto tyranno, filios suos, rupta mora,
revisere, consolarique, dignetur.”
[892] Ib. “Ipso pontifice et toto populo terræ super hoc
dolente, et nisi rationi contrairet, modis omnibus, ne
fieret, prohibere volente.”
[893] Ib. “Alter nuncius ex parte novi regis Anglorum, et
procerum regni patri occurrens, moras ejus in veniendo
redarguit, totam terram in adventu ejus attonitam, et omnia
negotia regni ad audientiam et dispositionem ipsius referens
pendere dilata.”
[894] Ep. Ans. iii. 41. “Nutu Dei, a clero et a populo
Angliæ electus, et quamvis invitus propter absentiam tui,
rex jam consecratus.”
[895] Ep. Ans. iii. 41. “Precor ne tibi displiceat quod
regiam benedictionem absque te suscepi; de quo, si fieri
posset,… libentius eam susciperem quam de alio aliquo … hac
itaque occasione a tuis vicariis illam accepi.”
[896] Ib. “Requiro te sicut patrem, cum omni populo Angliæ,
quatenus mihi filio tuo et eidem populo cujus tibi animarum
cura commissa est, quam citius poteris, venias ad
consulendum.”
[897] Ib. “Me ipsum quidem ac totius regni Angliæ populum,
tuo eorumque consilio qui tecum mihi consulere debent,
committo.”
[898] Ib. “Sed necessitas fuit talis quia inimici insurgere
volebant contra me et populum quem habeo ad gubernandum; et
ideo barones mei, et idem populus, noluerunt amplius eam
protelari; hac itaque occasione a tuis vicariis illam
accepi. Misissem quidem ad te a meo latere aliquos per quos
tibi etiam de mea pecunia destinassem, sed pro morte fratris
mei circa regnum Angliæ ita totus orbis concussus est, ut
nullatenus ad te salubriter pervenire potuissent.”
[899] Ib.
[900] Ep. Ans. iii. 41. “Et aliis tam episcopis quam
baronibus meis.”
[901] Ord. Vit. 784 B. “Pro quibusdam injuriis, quas ipse
suis comparibus ingesserat, per fraudulenta consilia, quæ
Ruffo regi contra illos suggerere jamdudum studuerat.”
[902] The expressions of Orderic which follow the words last
quoted are very remarkable. They show that, in Normandy at
least, William the Red did in some sort go on with the work
of his father. “Similiter alii plures iram et malivolentiam,
quas olim conceperant, sed propter rigorem principalis
justitiæ manifestis ultionibus prodere non ausi fuerant,
nunc habenis relaxatis toto nisu contra sese insurrexerunt,
et mutuis cædibus ac damnis rerum miseram regionem rectore
carentem desolaverunt.”
[903] Ord. Vit. 784 B, C.
[904] “Sona swa se eorl Rotbert into Normandig com, he wearð
fram eallan þam folce bliþelice underfangen.”
[905] “Butan þam castelan þe wæron gesætte mid þæs cynges
Heanriges mannan, togeanes þan he manega gewealc and gewinn
hæfde.”
[906] Will. Malms. v. 394. “Quo audito [Robert’s return to
Normandy], omnes pene hujus terræ optimates fidei regi
juratæ transfugæ fuere; quidam nullis extantibus causis,
quidam levibus occasiunculis emendicatis, quod nollet iis
terras quas vellent ultro pro libito eorum impertiri.”
[907] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “Ða toforan S[~c]e Michaeles
mæssan com se arcebiscop Ansealm of Cantwarbyrig hider to
lande, swa swa se cyng Heanrig, _be his witena ræde_ him
æfter sende, forþan þe he wæs út of þis lande gefaren, for
þan mycelan unrihte þe se cyng Willelm him dyde.” Everything
is thoroughly constitutional just now.
[908] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 55. “Prosperrimo itaque cursu
marina pericula transvecti nono kl. Octobris Dofris
appulimus, et ingenti gaudio totam terram in adventu Anselmi
exultantem reperimus. Quædam etenim quasi novæ
resurrectionis spes singulorum mentibus oriebatur, qua et ab
oppressione calentis adhuc calamitatis se quisque liberandum
et in statum optatæ prosperitatis aditum sibi pollicebatur.”
The short English Chronicle printed by Liebermann, 5, gives
a rather odd name to Anselm’s absence; “Ansælm ærcebiscop
com fram peregrinatione.”
[909] See vol. i. p. 437.
[910] Ib. p. 450.
[911] Ib. p. 481.
[912] Ib. p. 559.
[913] Ib. p. 572.
[914] Ord. Vit. 784 C. “Ut rumores _quos optaverat_ audivit,
Guillelmum videlicet regem occubuisse veraciter agnovit, cum
armatorum turma Cœnomannis venit, et ab amicis civibus [see
Migne’s text] voluntarie susceptus, urbem pacifice
obtinuit.” The Biographer (309) says merely “sine mora cum
populo qui eum secutus fuerat ad civitatem venit.”
[915] See above, pp. 241, 281. As he was “Rothomagensis,” he
would seem to be a brother of the William son of Ansgar of
whom we heard in vol. i. p. 261.
[916] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Fulconem Andegavorum comitem dominum
suum accersiit, a quo adjutus arcem diu obsedit.” The
Biographer says nothing about Fulk.
[917] Ord. Vit. 784 D. “Heliæ comiti privilegium dederunt ut
quotienscumque vellet, albam tunicam indueret, et sic ad eos
qui turrim custodiebant, tutus accederet.” Presently we read
of the “candida tunica, pro qua Candidus Bacularis solitus
est ab illis nuncupari.” The story is told in full detail.
[918] Ib. 784 C. “Haimericus de Moria.” I can give no
further account of him.
[919] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 26.
[920] Ord. Vit. 784 D. “Lædere quidem vos lapidibus et
sagittis possumus, quia in eminentiori prætorio constituti
vobis prævalemus.”
[921] Ib. 785 A. “Donec legatus noster redeat a dominis
nostris, Angliæ et Normanniæ principibus, qui postquam
reversus fuerit, faciemus prout ratio nobis intimaverit.”
[922] Ord. Vit. 785 A. “Dux longæ laboribus peregrinationis
fractus, et magis quietem lecti quam bellicum laborem
complecti cupidus.”
[923] “Rex Albionis … transmarinis occupatus negotiis regni,
callide maluit sibi debita legaliter amplecti quam
peregrinis præ superbia et indebitis laboribus nimis
onerari.”
[924] “Naturali hero caremus, cui strenuitatis nostræ
servitium impendamus. Unde, strenue vir, probitatem tuam
agnoscentes, te eligimus, et, arce reddita, te principem
Cœnomannorum hodie constituimus.” This time no one would
(see N. C. vol. iv. p. 575) think of translating “strenue
vir” by “valiant Saxon;” yet, as there were Saxons in Anjou,
the lord of La Flèche may have had more right to the name
than the Earl of the Northumbrians.
[925] Ord. Vit. 785 D. “Ne a civibus quorum domos præterito
anno combusserant læderentur, alacriter protexit.” The
Biographer (309) cuts the whole matter much shorter; but it
is from him that we learn the three months’ length of the
siege. The garrison, having no hope, “tandem coacti de
munitionibus egressi sunt, et consulis liberalitate
membrorum et vitæ impunitate donati, in patriam [where was
that?] reversi sunt.”
[926] See Appendix KK. The Biographer tells us now; “pacata
igitur civitate et hostibus inde effugatis, Hildebertus
Romam proficiscitur.”
[927] Ord. Vit. 785 D. “Fœdus amicitiæ cum Rodberto duce et
Henrico rege postmodum copulavit, eorumque bellis viriliter
interfuit, unique multum nocuit, alterique ingens suffragium
contulit.” He records instances in 818 C, 820 B, 821 A, B.
In this last case, at Tinchebrai, Helias commands Bretons as
well as his own people. Cf. the Chronicle of Saint Albinus
of Angers, 1105, 1106, and that of Saint Sergius, 1106.
Orderic (822 B) records a curious discourse between Helias
and his old enemy Robert of Bellême, who calls himself “tuus
homo.”
[928] We read casually in the Biographer (311) of a time
“dura comes Rotrodus Perticencis in turri Cenomannica captus
teneretur, et episcopus ad eum trepidum mortis accessisset.”
But the story is all about Hildebert, not about Helias. It
is taken from a letter of Hildebert himself (Duchesne, iv.
279), who speaks of Rotrou as “in vinculis.” We find that
Count Rotrou’s mother gave the Bishop the kiss of peace,
which the Lady Eadgyth had refused to receive from Abbot
Gervinus. See N. C. vol. ii. p. 544.
[929] Orderic seems to complain that “defuncta conjuge sua,
cælibem vitam actitare renuit.” Was it because of this
backsliding that, when he dies, he becomes, notwithstanding
all his good deeds, merely “cadaver” and not “soma”? On the
other hand, our own Chronicler records his death in 1110,
and the Angevin Chronicler of Saint Sergius thinks the event
worthy of a heavenly phænomenon; “Apparuit cometa, atque
ilico mortuus est Helias, Cenomannensis comes.”
[930] Orderic, 785 C, notes that Helias made Fulk his heir;
“Ipsum Cœnomannis dominum sibi successorem constituit.” Cf.
818 C.
[931] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 220, 225.
[932] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 56. “Cum post paucos sui reditus
dies Serberiam ad regem venisset, et ab eo gaudenter
susceptus, rationi illius qua se excusavit cur in
suscipienda regiæ dignitatis benedictione, illum cujus juris
eam esse sciebat, non expectaverit, adquievisset.”
[933] Ib. See N. C. vol. v. p. 220.
[934] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 56. “Cum ille nequaquam se aut
velle aut posse assensum præbere responderet,
interrogantibus quare, statim quid super his et quibusdam
aliis in Romano concilio acceperit, manifesta relatione
innotuit, itaque subinferens ait, si dominus rex ista
suscipere, et suscepta servare voluerit, bene inter nos et
firma pax erit.”
[935] Ib. “Nec ea de causa Angliam redii, ut, si ipse Romano
pontifici obedire nolit, in ea resideam. Undo quid velit
precor edicat, ut sciam quo me vertam.”
[936] Ib. “Grave quippe sibi visum est investituras
ecclesiarum et hominia prælatorum perdere; grave nihilominus
Anselmum a regno, ipso nondum in regno plene confirmato,
pati discedere.”
[937] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 56. “In uno siquidem videbatur sibi
quasi dimidium regni perderet, in alio verebatur ne fratrem
suum Robertum … Anselmus adiret, et eum _in apostolicæ sedis
subjectionem deductum, quod facillimum factu sciebat_, regem
Angliæ faceret.” These words make us see how unknown the new
doctrines had hitherto been in Normandy as well as in
England. The dukes up to this time had not been in
subjection to the Holy See, as subjection was understood by
Paschal, and, at Paschal’s bidding, by Anselm.
[938] Ib. “Induciæ usque pascha petitæ sunt, quatenus
utrinque Romam mitterentur qui decreta apostolica _in
pristinum regni usum_ mutarent.” Rome and Bari had not
wholly eaten the Englishman out of our Eadmer.
[939] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 56. “Interim ecclesiis Angliæ in
quo erant statu manentibus, Anselmus redditis terris quas
rex mortuus ecclesiæ Cantuariensi abstulerat, suis omnibus
revestiretur, sicque fieret, ut si a sententia flecti papa
nequiret, totius negotii summa in eum quo tunc erant statum
rediret.”
[940] Ib. “Hæc Anselmus, quamvis frivola esse, et in nihil
utile tendere sciret, atque prædiceret, tamen ne novo regi
seu principibus ullam contra se suspicionem de regni
translatione aut aliunde incuteret, precibus illorum passus
est vinci.”
[941] Will. Malms. v. 393. “Suadentibus amicis, et maxime
pontificibus, ut, remota voluptate pellicum, legitimum
amplecteretur connubium.” Orderic (783 D) gives the same
idea a more grotesque turn; “Princeps quarto mense ex quo
cœpit regnare, nolens ut equus et mulus, quibus non est
intellectus, turpiter lascivire, generosam virginem nomine
Mathildem regali more sibi desponsavit.” So in the
continuation of William of Jumièges, viii. 10; “Ut idem rex
_legaliter_ viveret, duxit venerabilem Matildem.”
“Legaliter” must here be taken in the older, not in the
chivalrous sense.
[942] Will. Malms. u. s. See Appendix G.
[943] See N. C. vol. v. p. 852.
[944] Ib. p. 853.
[945] Ib. p. 843; vol. iv. p. 733.
[946] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 731; v. p. 306.
[947] See vol. i. p. 187, and N. C. vol. v. p. 844.
[948] Hist. Ab. ii. 36. “Optimatum hujus loci ea tempestate
virorum Anskillus erat unus, cujus juri pertinebant
Suvecurda [Seacourt] et Speresholt, et Baigeuurtha
[Bayworth] et apud Merceham [Marsham] hida una. Hunc contra,
suorum delatione osorum, ita regis exarsit iracundia, ut
vinculis arctatum carcerali præciperet custodiæ macerandum.
Ubi insolito rigore deficiens post dies paucos interiit.”
[949] It was held by the new grantee and his son till it was
got back from King Henry by Abbot Faricius (Hist. Ab. ii.
288), “retracto inde ecclesiæ in hoc temporis spatio
servitii omni genere” (Ib. ii. 37). This seems to be the
Sparsholt of which I spoke in N. C. vol. iv. p. 726, as
being held by “Godricus unus liber homo,” a different person
from Godric the Sheriff. He is distinguished in the Abingdon
History (i. 477) as “Godricus Cild,” and his Sparsholt is
said to be “juxta locum qui vulgo Mons Albi Æqui
nuncupatur.” In Domesday (59) we find Anschil holding
Sparsholt of the Abbot. It had been held T. R. E. by Eadric.
Eadric and Godric are clearly the same man, and there must
be a mistake of name in one place or the other, just as in
Domesday, 146, _Ead_wine Abbot of Westminster is miscalled
_God_wine. But a most curious entry follows, from which it
appears that Eadric or Godric had given the lordship for the
support of his son as a monk in the abbey as long as he
lived, after which it was to come back to himself. The shire
therefore threw a doubt on the right of the abbey to its
possession. They had seen no writ or seal of King William
granting it to the abbey; but the abbot and all his monks
produced a writ and seal of King Eadward, from which it
appeared that Eadric had given the manor to the abbey;
“Abbas testatur quod in T. R. E. misit ille manerium ad
ecclesiam _unde erat_, et inde habet brevem et sigillum R.
E. attestantibus omnibus monachis suis.” The words “unde
erat” show that Eadric or Godric held the lordship of the
abbey (for its possession of Sparsholt see Hist. Ab. i. 283,
478), but that he gave up his rights in it to the church. It
was then again granted to Anskill.
[950] Hist. Ab. ii. 37. “Cum hæc agerentur, uxore Anskilli
jam defuncti domo exclusa, filio vero ejus, nomine Willelmo,
a rebus paternis funditus eliminato, eadem mulier fratrem
regis Henricum, tunc quidem comitem, suffragiorum suis
incommodis gratia frequentans, ex eo concepit, et filium
pariens Ricardum vocavit.” On this Richard, see N. C. vol.
v. pp. 188 (note), 195, 843.
[951] He married the sister of Simon, the king’s dispenser,
and niece of Abbot Reginald, who succeeded Æthelhelm in
1083. As Reginald died in 1097 (see p. 265), the whole
story, including the birth of Richard, must have happened
before that year.
[952] Hist. Ab. ii. 122. “Ansfrida, qua concubinæ loco rex
ipse Henricus usus ante suscepti _imperii monarchiam_,
filium Ricardum nomine genuit, ac _per hoc_ celebri
sepultura a fratribus est intumulata, videlicet in claustro
ante ostium ecclesiæ ubi fratres intrant in ecclesia et
exeunt.” Why was a doubly imperial style needed on such a
matter?
[953] Ord. Vit. 784 A. “Sapiens Henricus, generositatem
virginis agnoscens, multimodamque morum ejus honestatem
jamdudum concupiscens, hujusmodi sociam in Christo sibi
elegit.” So William of Malmesbury, v. 393; “Cujus amori
jampridem animum impulerat, parvi pendens dotales divitias,
dummodo diu cupitis potiretur amplexibus.” So Eadmer (Hist.
Nov. 56) mentions the story of the veil, and adds, “quæ res,
dum illa jam olim dimisso velo a rege amaretur, plurimorum
ora laxaret, et _eos_ a cupitis amplexibus retardaret.” In
the genuine story she certainly seems anxious for the
marriage. The story of her dislike to it is a mere legend.
See Appendix WW.
[954] This seems implied in the whole story, especially in
the words of Eadmer, “dimisso velo.” Her father, it will be
remembered, is said to have taken her away from Romsey in
1093. See Appendix EE.
[955] Sir Francis Palgrave (iv. 366), countersigned by Dean
Church, Anselm, 243, assures us that “Edith was very
beautiful.” Mr. Robertson (i. 153, note) will not allow that
she was more than “rather pretty.” The Abbess in Hermann of
Tournay witnesses to her beauty at the age of twelve, but
all that William of Malmesbury (v. 418) can say of her is
that she was “non usquequaque despicabilis formæ.” We have
already heard of her studies at Romsey, and in her letters
to Anselm (Epp. iii. 55, 119) the display of scriptural and
classical learning might have satisfied Orderic himself. It
is more comforting to find in the second letter that she
wishes to bestow the abbey of Malmesbury on one bearing the
English name of Eadwulf. Anselm refuses his consent, because
Eadwulf sent him a cup, which seemed like an attempt at
simony. Eadwulf however did in the end become abbot.
[956] Will. Malms. v. 393. “Erat illa, licet genere
sublimis, utpote regis Edwardi ex fratre Edmundo abneptis,
modicæ tamen domina supellectilis, utroque tunc parente
pupilla.”
[957] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “And siðþan sona heræfter se cyng
genam Mahalde him to wife, Malcolmes cynges dohter of
Scotlande, and Margareta þære goda cwæne, Eadwardes cynges
magan, and of þan rihtan Ænglalandes kyne kynne.” Eadmer
(Hist. Nov. 56) traces up the pedigree to Eadgar, but he
does not forget that she was “filia Malcholmi nobilissimi
regis Scotorum.”
[958] See N. C. vol. ii. p. 308.
[959] See above, p. 31, and Appendix EE. Eadmer, Hist. Nov.
56. “Siquidem eadem Mathildis, inter sanctimoniales in
monasterio ab infantia nutrita et adulta, credebatur a
multis in servitium Dei a parentibus oblata, eo quod publice
visa fuerat earum inter quas vivebat more velata.”
[960] Ib. “Ipsa Anselmum cujus in hoc nutum omnes
expectabant adiit.”
[961] Ib. 57. “Differt Anselmus sententiam ferre et causam
judicio religiosarum personarum regni determinandam
pronunciat. Statuto itaque die coeunt ad nutum illius,
episcopi, abbates, nobiles quique, ac religiosi ordinis
viri.” Anselm’s Convocation thus admitted lay members.
[962] The archdeacons are sent “Wiltuniam, ubi illa fuerat
educata,” but Romsey must surely be meant. See Appendix EE.
[963] Ib. “Remoto a conventu solo patre, ecclesia Angliæ quæ
convenerat in unum de proferenda sententia tractat.”
[964] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 564, 835.
[965] Hist. Nov. 58. The members of the Assembly say that
they remember the judgement of Lanfranc, and that they hold
that the present case is still stronger than that which he
decided. “Licet enim sciamus causam illarum istius esse
leviorem dum illæ sponte, ista coacta, pari de causa velum
portaverit.” They add their protest, “nequis nos favore
cujusvis duci existimet.”
[966] Ib. “Ego judicium vestrum non abjicio, sed eo securius
illud suscipio quo tanti patris auctoritate suffultum
audio.”
[967] Ib. “Gesta comi vultu audit et amplectitur.”
[968] Ib. “Quod non propterea facturam fatetur quasi sibi
non creditum esse putet, sed ut malevolis hominibus omnem
deinceps blasphemandi occasionem amputet.”
[969] Ib. “Si malus homo de malo thesauro cordis sui
protulerit mala, dicto citius opprimetur ipsa veritate jam
tantarum personarum adstipulatione probata et roborata.”
[970] Ib. “Allocutione posthæc et benedictione Anselmi
potita abiit.”
[971] This is the version of Hermann of Tournay (D’Achery,
ii. 893) referred to in Appendix EE, WW; “Confirmatus in
regno voluit conjugem habere puellam quamdam filiam David
regis Scotiæ, dixitque D. Anselmo, tunc temporis
Cantuariensis urbis venerabili archiepiscopo, ut eam sibi
benediceret et solemnibus nuptiis benedictam in conjugium
sociaret.”
[972] Ib. “Ideoque pro conservando juramento suo se non eam
dimissurum, nisi canonico judicio fuisset determinatum.”
[973] Ib. “Præcepit ut, adscito archiepiscopo Eboracensi,
congregaretur consilium episcoporum et abbatum totiusque
Angliæ ecclesiasticarum personarum ad diffiniendum
ecclesiastica censura tantum negotium.” Thomas of York, it
must be remembered, must have been now on his deathbed; at
least he died a few days later. The lay nobles of Eadmer’s
account are left out in this version.
[974] See above, p. 32, and Appendix WW.
[975] D’Achery, ii. 894. “In communi judicaverunt propter
hujusmodi factum non ei prohibendum conjugium, quoniam,
quamdiu infra legitimam ætatem sub tutela patris fuerat,
nihil ei sine ejus assensu facere licuerat.” See the answer
of Harold, N. C. vol. iii p. 265.
[976] D’Achery, ii. 894. “Vos quidem, domine rex, consilio
meo prætermisso, facietis quod vobis placuerit, sed qui
diutius vixerit, puto quod videbit non diu Angliam gavisuram
de prole quæ de ea nata fuerit.”
[977] See Appendix WW.
[978] Chron. Petrib. 1100. “And siðþan sona heræfter se cyng
genam Mahalde him to wife, Malcolmes cynges dohter of
Scotlande, and Margareta þære goda cwæne Eadwardes cynes
magan of þan rihtan Ænglalandes kynekynne. And on S[~c]e
Martines mæssedæg heo wearð him mid mycelan weorðscipe
forgifen on Westmynstre, and se arcebiscop Ansealm hi him
bewæddade and siððan to cwene gehalgode.” Florence notes
that, at the wedding, “rex Anglorum Heinricus majores natu
Angliæ congregavit Lundoniæ.” Orderic (784 A) makes Gerard
of Hereford the consecrator of the Queen. Her descent from
the “right _cynecyn_ of England” stirs him up to a grand
flight, going up to the very beginnings of things. We there
read how “Angli de Anglo insula, ubi Saxoniæ metropolis est,
in Britanniam venerunt, et, devictis, seu deletis, quos modo
Gualos dicunt, occupatam bello insulam, Hengist primo duce,
a natali solo Angliam vocitaverunt.”
[979] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 58. See N. C. vol. v. p. 169.
[980] Ib. “Cunctis una clamantibus rem juste definitam nec
in ea quid residere unde quis nisi forte malitia ductus jure
aliquam posset movere calumniam, legitime conjuncti sunt,
honore quo decuit regem et reginam.”
[981] It is so implied by Eadmer, who of course gives his
own very distinct witness in favour of the righteousness of
all that Anselm did.
[982] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 251, 857.
[983] See N. C. vol. v. p. 170. The note in Sir T. D.
Hardy’s edition of William of Malmesbury is very strange.
Ages after, Knighton (X Scriptt. 2375) gives these English
names an odd turn; “Multi de proceribus clam vel palam a
rege Henrico se subtraxerunt, fictis quibusdam occasiunculis
vocantes eum _Godrych Godefadyr_, et pro Roberto comite clam
miserunt.” In his day Godric, in his various spellings, was
doubtless, as now, in familiar use as a surname. Godgifu
must have been pretty well forgotten, except in the form
which she takes at Coventry, though I suppose that she too
survives in the surname _Goodeve_.
[984] See N. C. vol. v. p. 184.
[985] The Continuator of Florence (1121) tells us how Henry,
“legalis conjugii olim nexu solutus, _ne quid ulterius
inhonestum committeret_,” by the advice of Archbishop Ralph
and his great men, marries Adeliza. Orderic (823 B)
witnesses that Henry’s bad habits in this way went on to old
age.
[986] Will. Malms. v. 418. “Æquanimiter ferebat, _rege alias
intento_, ipsa curiæ valedicere, Westmonasterio multis annis
morata. Nec tamen quicquam ei regalis magnificentiæ deerat,”
&c.
[987] William of Malmesbury gives many details of her piety,
with the curious remark that she was “in clericos bene
melodos inconsiderate prodiga” [that is surely the right
reading, and not “provida”]. He tells how she kissed the
wounds of the lepers. The half-profane saying of David comes
from Æthelred of Rievaux (X Scriptt. 367; Fordun, v. 20;
Surtees Simeon, 267), who had the story from David himself.
Matilda wished her brother to follow her example, which he
refused; “Necdum enim sciebam Dominum, nec revelatus fuerat
mihi Spiritus ejus.” One is reminded of the story of Saint
Lewis and John of Joinville, when the seneschal refuses to
wash the feet of the poor. It is twice told in his Memoirs,
pp. 8, 218, ed. Michel, 1858.
[988] “Very vain,” says Mr. Robertson, who is determined to
be hard upon her.
[989] There is an important passage of William of Malmesbury
about the reeves, of whom we have heard so often; “Eo
effectum est ut prodige donantium non effugeret vitium,
multimodas colonis suis deferens calumnias, inferens
injurias, auferens substantias, quo bonæ largitricis nacta
famam, suorum parvi pensaret contumeliam. Sed hæc qui recte
judicare volet, consiliis ministrorum imputabit, qui, more
harpyarum, quicquid poterant corripere unguibus, vel
infodiebant marsupiis vel insumebant conviviis, quorum
fœculentis susurris aures oppleta, nævum honestissimæ menti
contraxit.” In all this we learn the more to admire the
constant care of Anselm that no wrong should be done to his
people.
The story of Matilda and David is told also by Robert of
Gloucester (ii. 434, 435, Hearne), who preserves the popular
memory of “Mold þe god quene” in several passages. Perhaps
the strongest is,
“Þe godenesse þat god Henry & þe quene Mold
Dude here to Engelond ne may neuere be ytolde.”
[990] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 329.
[991] See vol. i. p. 527. Abbot Jeronto was hardly a Legate
in the same sense as Walter of Albano.
[992] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 58. “Quod per Angliam auditum in
admirationem omnibus venit, inauditum scilicet in Britania
cuncti scientes quemlibet hominum super se vices apostolicas
gerere nisi solum archiepiscopum Cantuariæ.”
[993] See N. C. vol. v. p. 236.
[994] Eadmer, u. s. “Quapropter sicut venit ita reversus
est, a nemine pro legato susceptus, nec in aliquo legati
officio functus.”
[995] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 370. Our English Florence sends
him out of the world with a special panegyric; “Venerandæ
memoriæ et vir religionis eximiæ, affabilis, omnibusque
amabilis, Eboracensis archiepiscopus Thomas.” William of
Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 258) is more copious to the same
effect. T. Stubbs (X Scriptt. 1709) gives us his epitaph.
[996] See vol. i. p. 543.
[997] William of Malmesbury (Gest. Pont. 260), after
mentioning some of the stories against him, adds; “Certe
canonici Eboracenses ne in ecclesia sepeliretur
pertinacissime restitere, vix ignobilem cespitem cadaveri
præ foribus injici passi.”
[998] Ord. Vit. 786 A, B. “Pro penuria vestitus, usque ad
sextam de lecto non surrexit, nec ad ecclesiam, quia nudus
erat, divinum auditurus officium, perrexit. Meretrices enim
et nebulones qui, lenitatem ejus scientes, eum indesinenter
circumdederunt, braccas ejus et caligas et reliqua ornamenta
crebro impune furati sunt.”
[999] The list is given by Orderic (786 A).
[1000] Ord. Vit. 786 A, “Multis, si rex foret, majora quam
dare posset, promisit.”
[1001] See vol. i. p. 463.
[1002] Ord. Vit. 786 A. “Rodberto de Belismo Sagiensem
episcopatum et Argentomum castrum, silvamque Golferni
donavit,” On the phrase of granting the bishopric, compare
the passages referred to in p. 200, note 4.
[1003] “Tedbaldo Pagano, quia semel eum hospitatus fuerat,
tribuit.” On this Theobald, see above, p. 186.
[1004] The Christmas and Easter meetings are marked by the
Chronicler, who adds to his record of the former, “And þa
sona þæræfter wurdon þa heafod men her on lande wiðerræden
togeanes þam cynge, ægðer ge for heora agenan mycelan
ungetrywðan, and eac þurh þone eorl Rodbert of Normandig þe
mid unfriðe hider to lande fundode.”
[1005] The escape of Flambard is oddly recorded by the
Chronicler at the end of the year, after he had mentioned
all that his escape led to. But he gives the date; “Ðises
geares eac se bisceop Rannulf to þam Candelmæssan út of þam
Túre on Lunden nihtes oðbærst, þær he on hæftneðe wæs, and
to Normandige fór.” Florence (1101) tells us how
“Dunholmensis episcopus Rannulfus, post nativitatem Domini,
de custodia magna calliditate evasit, mare transiit.”
William of Malmesbury (v. 394) gives some details, but the
full story comes from Orderic (786). Flambard was to be
“custodiendus in vinculis,” a phrase which seems to show
that the fetters in this and many other cases were
metaphorical.
[1006] Ord. Vit. 786 D. “Exitum callide per amicos
procuravit. Erat enim sollers et facundus, et, licet
crudelis et iracundus, largus tamen et plerumque jucundus,
et ob hoc plerisque gratus et amandus.”
[1007] Ib. “Quotidie ad victum suum duos sterilensium
solidos jussu regis habebat. Unde cum adjumentis amicorum in
carcere tripudiabat, quotidieque splendidum sibi suisque
custodibus convivium exhiberi jubebat.”
[1008] Orderic and William of Malmesbury both mention the
bringing in of the rope in a vessel, which Orderic calls
“lagena vini,” while William of Malmesbury rather implies
that it was brought in water; “Funem minister aquæ bajulus
(proh dolus!) amphora immersum detulit.” Orderic well marks
the double window; “Funem ad columnam, quæ in medio fenestræ
arcis erat, coaptavit.”
[1009] “Fune ad solum usque non pertingente, gravi lapsu
_corpulentus flamen_ ruit, et pene conquassatus, flebiliter
ingemuit.” William of Malmesbury makes merry over his
troubles; “Ille muro turris demissus, si læsit brachia, si
excoriavit manus, parum curat populus.”
[1010] See above, p. 261.
[1011] It is now that Orderic tells the wonderful tales of
Flambard’s mother which I have quoted in vol. i. p. 331. He
now brings her on the scene; “In alia nave cum filii
thesauro sui per pelagus in Neustriam ferebatur, et a sociis
ibidem pro scelestis incantationibus cum derisoriis gestibus
passim detrahebatur. Intereo totum piratis occurrentibus in
ponto ærarium direptum est, et venefica cum nauderis et
epibatis anus nuda mœrensque in littus Normanniæ exposita
est.”
[1012] The influence which Flambard obtained over Robert is
marked in all our writers, beginning with the Chronicle;
“þurh þes macunge mæst and tospryttinge se eorl Rotbert
þises geares þis land mid unfriðe gesohte.” Florence (1101)
and Orderic (787 A) are to the same effect; William of
Malmesbury (v. 394) gets metaphorical; “Normanniam evadens,
comiti jam anhelanti, et in fervorem prælii prono, addidit
calcaria ut incunctanter veniret.”
[1013] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 58.
[1014] See the passage in p. 396.
[1015] See the extract from William of Malmesbury in p. 368.
[1016] This is William of Malmesbury’s (v. 394) list of
those who “justas partes fovebant.” Orderic (787 B) says,
“Rodbertus de Mellento et Ricardus de Radvariis, aliique
multi barones strenui regem suum vallaverunt.”
[1017] The Whitsun Gemót is described by Eadmer, 58, 59; “Ad
sponsionem fidei regis ventum est, tota regni nobilitas _cum
populi numerositate_.” Before this he has some remarkable
expressions which seem to point to debates in an inner
council, before the general assembly was summoned; “In
solemnitate Pentecostes adventus comitis Roberti fratris
regis in Angliam prævia fama totam regalem curiam commovit,
et quorundam animos, ut postmodum patuit, in diversa
permovit. Rex igitur principes et principes regem suspectum
habentes, ille scilicet istos ne a se instabili, ut fit,
fide dissilirent, et isti illum formidando ne undique pace
potitus in se, legibus efferatis desæviret, actum ex
consulto est ut certitudo talis hinc inde fieret, quæ
utrinque quod verebatur excluderet.”
[1018] Orderic (787 C, D) puts a long and pious speech into
Count Robert’s mouth. The most emphatic words are; “Cunctos
milites tuos leniter alloquere, omnibus ut pater filiis
blandire, promissis universos demulce, quæque petierint
concede, et sic omnes ad favorem tui sollerter attrahe. Si
Lundoniam postulaverint vel Eboracam, ne differas magna
polliceri, ut regalem decet munificentiam.”
[1019] I suppose this is the meaning of the words which come
soon after; “Cum ad finem hujus negotii auxiliante Deo
prospere pervenerimus, de repetendis dominiis quæ temerarii
desertores tempore belli usurpaverint, utile consilium
suggeremus.” He goes on to set forth the doctrine of
confiscation for treason.
[1020] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 59. “Anselmum inter se et regem
medium fecerunt, quantus ei vice sui manu in manum porrecta
promitteret, justis et sanctis legibus se totum regnum quoad
viveret in cunctis administraturum. Hoc facto sibi quisque
quasi de securitate applaudebat.”
[1021] Ord. Vit. 787 B. “Omnes Angli, alterius principis
jura nescientes, in sui regis fidelitate perstiterunt, pro
qua certamen inire eatis optaverunt.” Cf. the passages
quoted in pp. 347, 352. William of Malmesbury (v. 395) bears
the same witness; “Licet principibus deficientibus, partes
ejus solidæ manebant; quas Anselmi archiepiscopi, cum
episcopis suis, simul et omnium Anglorum tutabatur favor.”
[1022] It is rather curious that it is Florence who notices
at what Norman haven the fleet came together; “Comes
Nortmannorum Rotbertus, equitum, sagittariorum, et peditum,
non parvam congregans multitudinem, in loco, qui Nortmannica
lingua dicitur Ultresport, naves coadunavit.” Eadmer (Hist.
Nov. 59) is more general; “Postquam certitudo de adventu
fratris sui regi innotuit, mox ille, coacto exercitu totius
terræ, ipsi bello occurrendum impiger statuit.”
[1023] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 59. “Exercitus grandis erat atque
robustus, et circa regem fideliter cum suis in expeditione
excubabat pater Anselmus.”
[1024] See vol. i. p. 614. Orderic (774 B) has another
mention of the siege of Capua; “Papa nimirum ibi tunc
admodum occupatus erat, quia Capuanos, qui contra Richardum,
principem suum, Jordani filium rebellaverant, eidem
pacificare satagebat; quos idem juvenis, auxilio et
animositate Rogerii senis, avunculi sui, Siculorum comitis,
ad deditionem pertinaciter compulerat.” He goes on to say
that Anselm was now “inter Italos, de quorum origine
propagatus fuerat.” Eadmer (see vol. i. p. 367) knew the
geography of Aosta better, unless indeed we are to excuse
Orderic by calling in the Lombard origin of Anselm’s father.
[1025] The Chronicle mentions the place; “Ða to middesumeran
ferde se cyng út to Pefenesæ mid eall his fyrde togeanes his
broðer and his þær abád.” Florence says only, “Innumerabili
exercitu congregato de tota Anglia, non longe ab Heastinga
castra posuit in Suth-Saxonia; autumabat enim pro certo,
fratrem suum illis in partibus nave appulsurum.”
[1026] Chron. Petrib. 1101. “And se cyng syððan scipe ut on
sǽ sende his broðer to dære and to lættinge.”
[1027] See N. C. vol. iii. p. 327.
[1028] So says Florence; “Ille [Rotbertus] consilio Rannulfi
episcopi, quosdam de regis butsecarlis adeo rerum diversarum
promissionibus fregit, ut, fidelitate quam regi debebant
postposita, ad se transfugerent, et sibi ad Angliam duces
existerent.” But the Chronicler says only, “Ac hi sume æft
æt þære neode abruðon, and fram þam cynge gecyrdon, and to
þam eorle Rotberte gebugan.” Is the cause of this difference
between sea-folk and land-folk to be found in the fact that
the sailors must always have been a professional class,
coming one degree nearer to the nature of mercenaries than
the land forces?
[1029] Such is the comment of Orderic (787 B); “Classis ejus
Guillelmi patris sui classi multum dispar fuit quæ, non
exercitus virtute, sed proditorum procuratione, ad portum
Portesmude applicuit.”
[1030] All our accounts take Robert to Portsmouth, but that
vaguer name may take in the whole haven, so that we may
accept the more definite statement of Wace, 15450;
“O grant gent et o grant navie,
Et od noble chevalerie
Passa mer, vint à Porecestre.”
On the castle and church of Portchester, see the Winchester
Volume of the Archæological Institute. The Chronicler gives
the date as “xii. nihtan toforan Hlafmæssan,” which would be
July 20. Florence says “circa ad Vincula S. Petri,” that is
August 1; and William of Malmesbury says “mense Augusto.” It
is safer to keep to the more definite statement in the
Chronicle.
[1031] Flor. Wig. 1101. “Statim versus Wintoniam exercitum
movens, apto in loco castra posuit.” So Wace, as we shall
see presently. Orderic says more vaguely, “Protinus ipse dux
a proceribus regni, qui jamdudum illi hominium fecerant, in
provinciam Guentoniensem perductus, constitit.”
[1032] Wace, 15453;
“D’iloc ala prendre Wincestre;
Maiz l’en li dist ke la réine
Sa serorge esteit en gésine,
Et il dist ke vilain sereit,
Ki dame en gésine assaldreit.”
[1033] Wace, 15458;
“Vers Lundres fist sa gent torner,
Kar là kuidont li reis trover.”
[1034] Our geography comes from Wace, whom I must now quote
in the new edition of Dr. Andresen (10373, answering to
15460 in the edition of Pluquet);
“Al bois de _Hantone_ esteient ia
Quant li dus un home encontra,
Qui li dist que li reis ueneit,
Ultre le bois l’encontrereit;
Ultre le bois li reis l’atent.”
Here the word is _Hantone_ in both texts, but directly after
(10393) we read in Andresen, “Al bois de _Altone_
trespasser,” where Pluquet has _Hantone_. This he explains
to be “_Hampton_, dans le comté de Middlesex.” If _Hantone_
were the right reading, it would of course mean
_Southampton_, but we may be quite sure that Andresen’s
second reading _Altone_ is what Wace wrote in both places. I
had myself thought of _Alton_ before I saw the new text, but
I must confess that I have not studied this Hampshire
campaign on the spot, as I have studied those of Maine,
Northumberland, Sussex, and Shropshire.
[1035] Both Robert of Bellême and William of Warren are
marked by Orderic (787 B) as traitors, but seemingly a
little earlier; but the account in Florence reads as if some
at least of the nobles deserted at this stage, or at all
events after Robert had landed; “Cujus adventu cognito,
quidam de primoribus Angliæ mox ad eum, ut ante
proposuerant, transfugere, quidam vero cum rege ficta mente
remansere: sed episcopi, milites gregarii, et Angli, animo
constanti cum illo perstitere, unanimiter ad pugnam parati
cum ipso descendere.” Eadmer (Hist. Nov. 59) is to the same
effect.
[1036] See Wace, 15622 et seqq. in Pluquet’s edition, 10537
Andresen. “Li quens de _Waumeri_,” who, Pluquet saw, must be
the Earl of Warren or Surrey, appears in the new text as “Li
quens de Warenne.” His “gab” against the King is described
at great length. The special lines run thus;
“Li quens Guill. le gabout,
Pie de cerf par gap l’apelout,
E sovent sore li meteit
E sovent par gap li diseit
Que al pas de cerf conoisseit
De quanz ramors li cers esteit.”
[1037] Ord. Vit. 787 B. “Interea Hugo Cestrensis comes in
lectum decidit, et, post diutinum languorem, monachatum in
cœnobio, quod idem Cestræ construxerat, suscepit, atque post
triduum, vi. kalendas Augusti obiit.”
[1038] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 59. “Rex ipse non modo de regni
amissione sed et de vita sua suspectus, nulli credere, in
nullo, excepto Anselmo, fidere valebat. Unde sæpe ad illum
venire; principes quos magis a se labi timebat illi
adducere; quatenus, audito verbo illius, et ipse a formidine
relevaretur, et illis metus, si a fide quam sibi
spoponderant, aliquatenus caderent, incuteretur.”
[1039] Ib. “Robertus igitur amissa fiducia quam in principum
traditione habebat, et non levem deputans excommunicationem
Anselmi, quam sibi ut invasori (nisi cœpto desisteret)
invehi certo sciebat, paci adquievit et in fraternum amorem
reversus est, exercitusque in sua dimissus.”
[1040] Ib. “Quapropter in dubia licet assertione fateri,
quoniam si post gratiam Dei fidelitas et industria non
intercessisset Anselmi, Henricus rex ea tempestate
perdidisset jus Anglici regni.”
[1041] Eadmer, Hist. Nov. 59. “Ipse igitur Anselmo jura
totius Christianitatis in Anglia exercendæ se relicturum,
atque decretis et jussionibus apostolicæ sedis se perpetuo
obediturum summopere promittebat.”
[1042] Wace has a good deal of vivid description at this
stage, but this specially stirring picture, which almost
suggests a ballad, comes from William of Malmesbury (v.
395); “Quapropter ipse provincialium fidei gratus et saluti
providus, plerumque cuneos circuiens, docebat quomodo
militum ferociam eludentes, clypeos objectarent et ictus
remitterent, quo effecit ut ultroneis votis pugnam
deposcerent, in nullo Normannos metuentes.”
This is really almost a translation of the lines in the song
of Maldon quoted in N. C. vol. i. p. 272.
From Orderic too (788 B) we get one vivid sentence strongly
bringing out the nationality of the two armies; “Nobilis
corona ingentis exercitus circumstitit, ibique terribilis
decor Normannorum et Anglorum in armis effulsit.”
[1043] See Appendix XX.
[1044] See Appendix XX.
[1045] See Appendix XX.
[1046] See Appendix XX.
[1047] See Appendix XX.
[1048] See Appendix XX.
[1049] See Appendix XX.
[1050] “Quibus pacatis,” says Florence, “regis exercitus
domum, comitis vero pars in Normanniam rediit, pars in
Anglia secum remansit.” The mischief done comes from the
Chronicle; “And se eorl syððan oððet ofer S[~c]e Michaeles
mæsse her on lande wunode, and his men mycel to hearme æfre
gedydon swa hi geferdon, þa hwile se eorl her on lande
wunode.” Orderic (788 D) says nothing about the army, but
records the “regalia xenia” which Henry gave to Robert.
[1051] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 656.
[1052] Ord. Vit. 789 A. Fulcher is described as “pene
illiteratus,” but “dapsilitate laudabilis.” He was “ad
episcopatum procuratione fratris sui de curia raptus.” Of
the second appointment we read, “Luxoviensem pontificatum
filio suo Thomæ puero suscepit, et per triennium, non ut
præsul, sed ut præses, gubernavit.”
[1053] Ib. 788 D. “Robertus dux in Neustriam rediit, et
secum adduxit Guillelmum de Guarenna pluresque alios pro se
exhæredatos.”
[1054] Ord. Vit. 805 A. “Guillelmus autem, postquam paternum
jus, quod insipienter amiserat, recuperavit, per xxxiii.
annos, quibus simul vixerunt, utiliter castigatus, regi
fideliter adhæsit, et inter præcipuos ac familiares amicos
habitus effloruit.”
[1055] Ib. 804 C. “Proditores … paulatim ulcisci conatus
est, nam … quamplures ad judicium submonuit, nec simul, sed
separatim, variisque temporibus et multimodis violatæ fidei
reatibus implacitavit.”
[1056] The names are given in the passage just quoted. They
are coupled with “potentior omnibus aliis Rodbertus de
Belismo.” So again in 805 C.
[1057] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 238, 241.
[1058] Ord. Vit. 805 C. “Ivonem quoque, quia guerram in
Anglia cœperat, et vicinorum rura suorum incendio
combusserat, quod in illa regione crimen est inusitatum nec
sine gravi ultione fit expiatum, rigidus censor accusatum,
nec purgatum, ingentis pecuniæ redditione oneravit, et
plurimo angore tribulatum mœstificavit.”
[1059] Ib. “Imprimis erubescebat improperia quæ sibi fiebant
derisoria, quod funambulus per murum exierat de Antiochia.”
[1060] The temporary possession is expressed by the words,
“totam terram ejus usque ad xv. annos in vadimonio
possideret.”
[1061] Ib. “Hæreditas ejus alienis subdita est” is a comment
of Orderic.
[1062] See the song on the recovery of the Five Boroughs in
the Chronicle, 941, 942.
[1063] The expressions of the Chronicler under the year 918
are remarkable. It is not said that the Lady _wrought_ or
_timbered_ anything at Leicester; she found the stronghold,
whatever it was, ready made; “Her heo begeat on hyre geweald
mid Godes fultume on foreweardne gear þa burh æt
Ligranceastre.”
[1064] Ord. Vit. 805 D. “Urbs Legrecestria quatuor dominos
habuerat.” He then names them.
[1065] Ib. “Præfatus consul de Mellento per partem Yvonis,
qui municeps erat et vicecomes et firmarius regis, callide
intravit, et auxilio regis suaque calliditate totam sibi
civitatem mancipavit, et inde consul in Anglia factus, omnes
regni proceres divitiis et potestate præcessit, et pene
omnes parentes suos transcendit.”
[1066] Orderic remarks, “Inter tot divitias mente cæcatus,
filio Yvonis jusjurandum non servavit, quia idem adolescens
statuto tempore juratam feminam, hæreditariamque tellurem
non habuit.” On the deathbed of Earl Robert, see vol. i. p.
187.
[1067] See vol. i. p. 187. Orderic, it may be noticed, calls
him “senex” even at the time of the release of Helias. See
above, p. 243.
[1068] See the story in William of Malmesbury, v. 406.
Besides these better known sons, Orderic gives him another,
“Hugo cognomento pauper.”
[1069] See the Chronicle, 1123; N. C. vol. v. p. 197.
[1070] See above, p. 380. Orderic gives him four other
daughters.
[1071] See vol. i. p. 186. The words of William of
Malmesbury (v. 417) are remarkable; “Comes de Mellento qui,
in hoc negotio magis antiqua consuetudine quam recti tenore
rationem reverberans, allegabat multum regiæ majestati
diminui, si, omittens morem antecessorum, non investiret
electum per baculum et annulum.”
[1072] See Mon. Angl. viii. 1456. The changes by which Earl
Robert’s church was enlarged into the present church of
Saint Mary are singular indeed. The three churches of Our
Lady in and by Leicester must be carefully distinguished.
[1073] For the abbey of Leicester, or rather St. Mary de
Pré, see Mon. Angl. vi. 462.
[1074] Ord. Vit. 806 A. “Diligenter eum fecerat per unum
annum explorari, et vituperabiles actus per privatos
exploratores caute investigari, summopereque litteris
adnotari.”
[1075] Ib. “Anno ab incarnatione Domini mcii. indictione x.
Henricus rex Rodbertum de Belismo, potentissimum comitem, ad
curiam suam ascivit, et xlv. reatus in factis seu dictis
contra se vel fratrem suum Normanniæ ducem, commissos
objecit, et de singulis eum palam respondere præcepit.”
[1076] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Cum Rodbertus licentiam, ut moris
est, eundi ad consilium cum suis postulasset, eademque
accepta.” It is possible that the “licentia” means the
safe-conduct, but the other interpretation seems more
natural.
[1077] Ord. Vit. 806 A. “Egressus, purgari se de objectis
criminibus non posse cognovisset, equis celeriter ascensis,
ad castella sua pavidus et anhelus confugit, et, rege cum
baronibus suis responsum exspectante, regius satelles
Rodbertum extemplo recessisse retulit.”
[1078] Ib. “Rodbertum itaque publicis questibus impetitum,
nec legaliter expiatum, palam blasphemavit, et nisi ad
judicium, rectitudinem facturus, remearet, publicum hostem
judicavit.”
[1079] “Iterum rebellem ad concionem invitavit, sed ille
venire prorsus refutavit.” All these important details of
the legal process are given by Orderic only, but the
Chronicler directly connects the dispute between the King
and Robert with the holding of the regular assemblies, and
the writer takes the opportunity to draw a picture of the
greatness of the Earl of Shropshire; “On þisum geare to
Natiuiteð wæs se cyng Heanrig on Westmynstre, and to Eastron
on Winceastre, and sona þæræfter wurdon unsehte se cyng and
se eorl Rotbert of Bælæsme, se hæfde þone eorldom her on
lande on Scrobbesbyrig, þe his fæder Roger eorl ær ahte, and
micel rice þærto, ægðer ge beheonon sǽ ge begeondon.”
It is worth noticing that the Chronicler here uses the
English form, “Rotbert _of_ Bælæsme;” in 1106 he changes to
the French, “Rotbert _de_ Bælesme.”
[1080] See above, p. 310.
[1081] Ord. Vit. 675 C, 708 B, 897 D.
[1082] Arnulf and Roger are both mentioned by Orderic, 808
C, and William of Malmesbury, v. 396, as having to leave
England with their elder brother. They were therefore his
accomplices; but it is only from the Brut y Tywysogion that
we learn how great a share Arnulf had in the whole matter.
[1083] Brut, 1096 [1098]. “And when the Gwyneddians could
not bear the laws and judgements and violence of the French
over them, they rose up a second time against them.”
[1084] Brut, ib. This may refer either to the expedition of
the two Hughs or to the earlier expedition of Hugh of
Chester (see pp. 97, 129). But there seems to be no mention
of Owen in the Welsh writers at either of those points.
[1085] See above, p. 301. The Brut couples Gruffydd with
Cadwgan.
[1086] The words of the annals quoted in p. 301 look as if
Gruffydd held Anglesey strictly as a conqueror. The portion
assigned to Cadwgan comes from the Brut, which distinctly
asserts their vassalage in its account of Robert’s rebellion
(1100 [1102]). “Robert and Arnulf invited the Britons, who
were subject to them, in respect of their possessions and
titles, that is to say, Cadwgan, Jorwerth, and Maredudd,
sons of Bleddyn, son of Cynvyn, to their assistance.”
[1087] So says the Brut, at least in the English
translation; “They [Robert and Arnulf] gladdened their
country with liberty.”
[1088] So says Giraldus, It. Camb. ii. 12 (vol. vi. p. 143);
“In hac tertia Gualliæ portione, quæ Powisia dicitur, sunt
equitia peroptima, et equi emissarii laudatissimi, de
Hispaniensium equorum generositate, quos olim comes
Slopesburiæ Robertus de Beleme in fines istos adduci
curaverat, originaliter propagati.”
[1089] So again witnesses the Brut; but we hardly need
witnesses on such a point.
[1090] So the Brut tells the tale. Orderic mentions the
betrothal, which with him becomes a marriage, somewhat later
(808 C); “Arnulfus filiam regis Hiberniæ nomine Lafracoth
uxorem habuit, per quam soceri sui regnum obtinere
concupivit.”
[1091] So says the Brut (p. 69), which adds that the
marriage “was easily obtained,” and that “the Earls buoyed
themselves up with pride on account of these things.”
[1092] Ord. Vit. 806 C. “Interea rex legatos in Neustriam
direxit, ducique veridicis apicibus insinuavit, qualiter
Rodbertus utrisque forisfecerit, et de curia sua furtim
aufugerit. Deinde commonuit ut, sicut pepigerant in Anglia,
utrique traditorem suum plecterent generali vindicta.”
[1093] Ord. Vit. 806 C. Vignats is mentioned by Wace (8061)
long before when he speaks of
“Li vieil Willame Talevaz
Ki tint Sez, Belesme è Vinaz.”
On the abbey founded in 1130, see Neustria Pia, 749.
[1094] This seems to be the meaning of Orderic’s words, “Non
enim sese sine violentia dedere dignabantur, ne malefidi
desertores merito judicarentur.”
[1095] See above, p. 289.
[1096] Orderic’s way of telling this is curious; “Quia dux
deses et mollis erat, ac principali severitate carebat,
Rodbertus de Monteforti, aliique seditionis complices, qui
vicissim dissidebant, mappalia sua, sponte immisso igne,
incenderunt, totum exercitum turbaverunt, et ipsi ex
industria, nemine persequente, fugerunt, aliosque, qui
odibilem Rodbertum gravare affectabant, turpiter fugero
compulerunt.” Of all the Roberts concerned, it would seem to
be he of Montfort who was “odibilis” at the present moment.
[1097] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Cum ululatu magno post eos
deridentes vociferati sunt.”
[1098] Ord. Vit. 806 D. “Per totam ergo provinciam pagensium
prædas rapiebant, et direptis omnibus, domos flammis
tradebant.”
[1099] Orderic (806 B) implies that the works at Bridgenorth
were still going on; “Brugiam, munitissimum castrum, super
Sabrinam fluvium construebat.” But Florence is still more
emphatic; “Muros quoque ac turres castellorum, videlicet
Brycge et Caroclove, die noctuque laborando et operando,
perficere modis omnibus festinavit.” The Brut speaks
obscurely of some earlier dealings about Bridgenorth, of
which we have no record elsewhere; “Brygge, concerning which
there had been war, against which the whole deceit was
perpetrated, and which he had founded contrary to the order
of the King.” The rebels are described generally as
fortifying their castles and surrounding them with ditches
and walls, which are expressed in the Welsh text by the loan
words “O ffossyd a muroed.”
[1100] Orderic and the Brut stand alone among our
authorities in mentioning all the four castles, Arundel,
Tickhill, Bridgenorth, and Shrewsbury. The Chronicle and
William of Malmesbury leave out Tickhill. Florence and the
Chronicle both leave out Shrewsbury. William of Malmesbury
(v. 396) further confounds the siege of Arundel with that of
Shrewsbury. From Orderic we get a clear and full account,
while the Brut supplies many details as to the Welsh side of
the business. Orderic opens his story in a becoming manner;
“Rex exercitum Angliæ convocavit, et Arundellum castellum,
quod prope litus maris situm est, obsedit.”
[1101] The _Malvoisins_ before Arundel seem to have struck
all our writers. We get them in the Chronicle; “Se cyng
ferde and besæt þone castel æt Arundel, ac þa he hine swa
hraðe gewinnan ne mihte, he let þær toforan castelas
gemakian, and hi mid his mannan gesette.” They appear also
in Florence, William of Malmesbury, and Henry of Huntingdon.
They were doubtless of wood; but it is only from Roger of
Wendover (ii. 170), who is followed by Matthew Paris (Hist.
Angl. i. 190), that we get the direct statement, “castellum
aliud ligneum contra illud construxit.”
[1102] So I understand the words of Orderic, 806 B; “Ibi
castris constructis, stratores cum familiis suis tribus
mensibus dimisit.”
[1103] Flor. Wig. 1102. “Idcirco mox _Walanis et
Nortmannis_, quot tunc habere potuit, in unum congregatis,
ipse et suus germanus Arnoldus partem Staffordensis pagæ
vastaverunt, ac inde jumenta et animalia multa, hominesque
nonnullos in Waloniam abduxerunt.”
[1104] Ord. Vit. 806 B. “Audiens defectionem suorum
ingemuit, eosque a promissa fide, quia impos erat adjutorii,
absolvit, multumque mœrens licentiam concordandi cum rege
concessit.”
[1105] So Orderic; I add the stipulation about Robert from
William of Malmesbury; “Egregia sane conditione, ut dominus
suus integra membrorum salute Normanniam permitteretur
abire.” William’s account just here is very confused; but
this condition seems to have struck him, and it explains
some things which come later. He goes on to make this
strange statement; “Porro Scrobesbirienses per Radulfum tum
abbatem Sagii, postea Cantuariæ archiepiscopum, regi misere
castelli claves, deditionis præsentis indices, futuræ
devotionis obsides.” Now Orderic has, as we shall see, a
wholly different account of the surrender of Shrewsbury, and
Abbot Ralph, a victim of Robert of Bellême (see vol. i. p.
184), is not at all likely to have been in one of his
castles. Can it be that William has got hold of the wrong
castle and the wrong Ralph? Did Bishop Ralph of Chichester
act by any chance as mediator between the King and the
garrison of Arundel, a place in his diocese?
[1106] The name of Howard is not heard till the time of
Edward the First, and it is not noble till some generations
later. If it really be the name of an English office,
_Hayward_ or _Hogward_, and not a Norman _Houard_, then
Arundel, already a castle T. R. E., has fittingly come back
to the old stock.
[1107] See above, p. 160. Tickhill appears as “Tyckyll” in
Florence, as “Blida” in Orderic, as “Blif” in the Brut. The
editor of this last, who carefully translates “Amúythia” as
Shrewsbury, seems not to have known that “Blif” and
“Bryg”――there seem to be several readings――meant Blyth and
Bridgenorth.
[1108] So Florence; “Rotbertum, Lindicolinæ civitatis
episcopum, cum parte exercitus Tyckyll obsidere jussit
[rex]: ille autem Brycge cum exercitu pene totius Angliæ
obsedit.”
[1109] “Unde,” says Orderic――that is from Arundel――“rex ad
Blidam castrum, quod Rogerii de Buthleio quondam fuerat,
exercitum promovit. Cui mox gaudentes oppidani obviam
processerunt, ipsumque naturalem dominum fatentes, cum
gaudio susceperunt.” Yet it may be that Bishop Robert, like
Joab and Luxemburg, fought against the castle, and that
Henry, like David and Lewis the Fourteenth, came to receive
its submission.
[1110] The succession of the lords of Tickhill is traced by
Mr. John Raine in his history of Blyth.
[1111] See Raine, p. 168.
[1112] See N. C. vol. v. p. 488.
[1113] Ord. Vit. 806 B. “His ita peractis, rex populos
parumper quiescere permisit, ejusque prudentiam et
animositatem congeries magnatorum pertimuit.”
[1114] Ord. Vit. 807 A. “Rodbertus autem Scrobesburiam
secesserat, et præfatum oppidum Rogerio, Corbati filio, et
Rodberto de Novavilla, Ulgerioque Venatori commiserat,
quibus lxxx. stipendiarios milites conjunxerat.”
[1115] Corbet――“Corbatus”――appears in Orderic (522 B, C),
along with his sons Roger and Robert, as a chief man in
Shropshire under Earl Roger. He must have died before the
Survey, as only his sons appear there. The lands which
Corbet’s son Roger held of Earl Roger fill nearly two
columns in Domesday, 255 _b_; they are followed by those of
his brother Robert in 256. Several of Roger’s holdings had
been held by Eadric, and in one lordship of Robert’s he is
distinctly marked as “Edric Salvage.” Several of Roger’s
under-tenants are mentioned, of whom “Osulfus” and
“Ernuinus” must be English, while another lordship had been
held by _Ernui_. If these names mean the same person, then
Earnwine or Earnwig had held two lordships, one of which he
lost altogether, while the other he kept in the third
degree, holding it under Roger son of Corbet, who held it
under Earl Roger. I suppose that these sons of Corbet have
nothing to do with “Robertus filius Corbutionis” who appears
in the east of England and whose name is said to be
“Corpechun.” See Ellis, i. 478. I cannot find Robertus de
Novavilla in Domesday.
[1116] I cannot find Wulfgar in Domesday, unless he be the
Vlgar who appears as an antecessor in 256, 257 _b_. Some
other huntsmen, fittingly bearing wolfish names, as Wulfgeat
(50 _b_) and Wulfric (50 _b_, 84), appear in Domesday as
keeping land T. R. W., but no Wulfgar.
[1117] The action of the Welsh appears in all our accounts,
but most fully in Orderic and the Brut. The Annales Cambriæ
say only “Seditio [magna] orta est inter Robertum Belleem et
Henricum regem.” William of Malmesbury says spitefully,
“Wallensibus pro motu fortunæ ad malum pronis.” But he seems
somehow to connect them specially with Shrewsbury. Florence
is emphatic, and brings out the feudal relation between them
and Earl Robert (see above, p. 424); “Walanos etiam, _suos
homines_, ut promptiores sibique fideliores ac paratiores
essent ad id perficiendum quod volebat, honoribus, terris,
equis, armis incitavit, variisque donis largiter ditavit.”
From the Brut we get the names of all three, Cadwgan,
Jorwerth, and Meredydd. Orderic leaves out Meredydd, and
calls them sons of Rhys instead of Bleddyn. He adds, “Quos
cum suis copiis exercitum regis exturbare frequenter
dirigebat.”
[1118] Ord. Vit. 807 A. “Guillelmum Pantolium, militarem
probumque virum, exhæreditaverat, et multa sibi pollicentem
servitia in instanti necessitate penitus a se
propulsaverat.” Orderic had mentioned him already in 522 B,
C, by the name of “Guillelmus Pantulfus,” as one of Earl
Roger’s chief followers in Shropshire. His Shropshire
holdings fill a large space in Domesday, 257, 257 _b_, where
he appears as Pantulf and Pantul; and the history of one of
them has been commented on in N. C. vol. iv. p. 737. Many of
them were waste when he received them. His Staffordshire
lordship is entered in p. 248, with the addition “in
Stadford una vasta masura.” See N. C. vol. iv. p. 281. I do
not know why Lappenberg (ii. 234, p. 294 of the translation)
makes William Pantulf to have been persecuted (“verfolgt”)
by Earl Roger on account of a share in the murder of Mabel.
If he had lost his lands then, he would hardly have appeared
in Domesday, and, according to Orderic, it was not Earl
Roger, but Robert of Bellême himself, who disinherited him.
[1119] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 316. Orderic calls it
“Staphordi castrum, quod in vicino erat.”
[1120] Orderic tells us, “Hic super omnes Rodberto nocuit,
et usque ad dejectionem consiliis et armis pertinaciter
obstitit.”
[1121] The _Malvoisin_ at Bridgenorth comes from Florence;
“Machinas ibi construere et castellum firmare cœpit.”
[1122] “Totius Angliæ legiones in autumno adunavit, et in
regionem Merciorum minavit, ibique Brugiam tribus septimanis
obsedit.” So says Orderic, 807 A. When Florence says, “infra
xxx. dies civitate omnibusque castellis redditis,” he must
take in Shrewsbury, though he does not mention its name.
Bridgenorth could not be called “civitas;” Shrewsbury is so
called in Domesday, where the name does not imply a bishop’s
see.
[1123] See vol. i. pp. 83, 86.
[1124] Ord. Vit. 807 B. “Consules et primores regni una
convenerunt, et de pacificando discorde cum domino suo
admodum tractaverunt. Dicebant enim, Si rex magnificum
[μεγαλοπράγμονά τε καὶ κακοπράγμονα [megalopragmona te kai
kakopragmona]] comitem violenter subegerit, nimiaque
pertinacia, ut conatur, eum exhæreditaverit, omnes nos ut
imbelles ancillas amodo conculcabit.”
[1125] Ord. Vit. 807 B. “Pacem igitur inter eos obnixi
seramus, ut hero comparique nostro legitime proficiamus, et
sic utcunque perturbationes sedando debitorem nobis
faciamus.”
[1126] See above, p. 151.
[1127] Ord. Vit. 807 B. “Regem omnes simul adierunt, et in
medio campo _colloquium_ [see N. C. vol. iv. p. 688] de pace
medullitus fecerunt, ac pluribus argumentis regiam
austeritatem emollire conati sunt.”
[1128] Ib. “Tunc in quodam proximo colle tria millia
_pagensium militum_ stabant, et optimatum molimina satis
intelligentes, ad regem vociferando clamabant.” The word
“milites” is qualified by “pagenses;” so we are not to
conceive three thousand English “chivalers” or “rideras,”
least of all in a shire where no King’s thegns were left.
[1129] See N. C. vol. ii. pp. 104, 105, and below, p. 448.
[1130] I have here simply translated Orderic. The words are
doubtless his own; but the matter is quite in place.
[1131] See above, p. 430.
[1132] Ord. Vit. 807 B. “His auditis, rex animatus est,
_eoque mox recedente_, conatus factiosorum adnihilatus est.”
I do not quite see the force of the words in Italics. Does
it mean simply leaving the place of the “colloquium”? It
cannot, from what goes before and after, mean changing the
quarters of the whole army.
[1133] Ib. B, C. “Præfatos Gualorum reges per Guillelmum
Pantolium rex accersiit, eosque datis muneribus et promissis
demulcens, hosti caute surripuit suæque parti cum viribus
suis associavit.” The detailed narrative comes from the
Brut, to whose author the different conduct of the brothers
was naturally more interesting than it was to Orderic. He
speaks of the message as “sent to the Britons,” and
specially to Jorwerth, without mentioning Cadwgan and
Meredydd. He is the best authority for what went on among
his own people, while we may trust Orderic for the name of
the negotiator on the King’s side. Florence speaks quite
generally; “Interim Walanos, in quibus fiduciam magnam
Rotbertus habuerat, ut juramenta quæ illi juraverant irrita
fierent, et ab illo penitus deficerent in illumque
consurgerent, donis modicis facile corrupit.” The gifts
actually given may have been small, but the promises were
certainly large.
[1134] The Brut makes the King “promise him more than he
should obtain from the earls, and the portion he ought to
have of the land of the Britons.” This is then defined as
the districts mentioned in the text.
[1135] “Half of Dyved,” says the Brut, “as the other half
had been given to the son of Baldwin.” That Jorwerth’s half
was to take in Pembroke Castle appears from the words
towards the end of this year’s entry, where the King “took
Dyved and the castle from him.” “The castle” in Dyfed can
only be Pembroke.
[1136] The Brut tells this at some length, speaking rather
pointedly of “the territory of Robert his lord.” See above,
pp. 424, 434.
[1137] Ord. Vit. 807 C. “Tres quoque præcipuos municipes
mandavit, et coram cunctis juravit quod nisi oppidum in
triduo sibi redderent, omnes quoscunque de illis capere
posset, suspendio perirent.” These “municipes,” the
“oppidani” of the rest of the story, must be the three
captains, Roger, Robert, and Wulfgar. Odd as it seems, both
“oppidanus” and “municeps” are often used in this sense. See
Ducange in Municeps.
[1138] “Guillelmum Pantolium, qui affinis eorum erat.”
“Affinis” in the language of Orderic often means simply
neighbour, as in 708 A.
[1139] “Facete composita oratione ad reddendam legitimo regi
munitionem commonuit, cujus ex parte terra centum librarum
fundos eorum augendos jurejurando promisit.”
[1140] “Oppidani, considerata communi commoditate,
acquieverunt, et regiæ majestatis voluntati, ne resistendo
periclitarentur, obedierunt.”
[1141] “Se non posse ulterius tolerare violentiam invicti
principis mandaverunt.”
[1142] So says the Brut, adding, “without knowing anything
of what was passing.”
[1143] The embassy at this stage comes only from the Brut,
but as the later one (see below, p. 448) is mentioned also,
we may accept it. The Welsh writer naturally makes the most
of his countrymen, and makes Robert despair on the secession
of Jorwerth. “He thought he had no power left since Jorwerth
had gone from him, for he was the principal among the
Britons, and the greatest in power.” This may not be an
exaggeration, as he lost with Jorwerth all power of doing
anything in the open field.
[1144] The journey of Arnulf at this particular time comes
only from the Brut, but it quite fits in with the rest of
the story.
[1145] On the second voyage of Magnus, see Appendix II.
[1146] See Appendix II.
[1147] Ord. Vit. 807 C. “Stipendiarii autem milites pacem
nescierunt, quam oppidani omnes et burgenses, perire
nolentes, illis inconsultis fecerunt.” The appearance of the
“burgenses,” a class who must have grown up speedily, as
Bridgenorth is no Domesday borough, mark yet more distinctly
the true meaning of “oppidani.”
[1148] “Cum insperatam rem comperissent, indignati sunt, et
armis assumptis inchoatum opus impedire nisi sunt.”
[1149] “Oppidanorum violentia in quadam parte munitionis
inclusi sunt.”
[1150] “Regii satellites cum regali vexillo, multis
gaudentibus, suscepti sunt.”
[1151] “Deinde rex, quia stipendiarii fidem principi suo
servabant, ut decuit, eis liberum cum equis et armis exitum
annuit. Qui egredientes, inter catervas obsidentium
plorabant, seseque fraudulentia castrensium et magistrorum
male supplantatos palam plangebant, et coram omni exercitu,
ne talis eorum casus aliis opprobrio esset stipendiariis,
complicum dolos detegebant.” The use of the words may seem
odd; but “magistri” must mean the captains, and “castrenses”
the burgesses.
[1152] See N. C. vol. iv. pp. 272, 492. We may here again
mark the accuracy of Orderic’s local descriptions in his own
shire (807 D); “Scrobesburiam urbem in monte sitam, quæ in
ternis lateribus circumluitur Sabrina flumine.”
[1153] See N. C. vol. iv. p. 498.
[1154] Ord. Vit. 807 D. “Robertus de Belismo, ut
munitissimum Brugiæ castrum, in quo maxime confidebat, regi
subactum audivit, anxius ingemuit, et pene in amentiam
versus, quid ageret ignoravit.”
[1155] Ord. Vit. 808 A. “Plus quam lx. milia peditum erant
in expeditione.”
[1156] Ib. 807 D. “Rex phalanges suas jussit Huvel-hegem
pertransire…. Angli quippe quemdam transitum per silvam
_huvelge-hem_ dicunt, quem Latini _malum callem_ vel
_vicum_, nuncupare possunt. Via enim per mille passus erat
cava, grandibus saxis aspera, stricta quoque quæ vix duos
pariter equitantes capere valebat, cui opacum nemus ex
utraque parte obumbrabat, in quo sagittarii delitescebant,
et stridulis missilibus vel sagittis prætereuntes subito
mulctabant.”
[1157] Ib. 808 A. “Rex jussit silvam securibus præcidere, et
amplissimam stratam sibi et cunctis transeuntibus usque in
æternum præparare. Regia jussio velociter completa est,
saltuque complanato latissimus trames a multitudine
adæquatus est.”
[1158] Ord. Vit. 808 A. “Severus rex memor injuriarum, _cum
pugnaci multitudine decrevit_ illum impetere nec ei
ullatenus nisi victum se redderet parcere.”
[1159] For the date, see above, p. 435.
[1160] Ord. Vit. u. s. “Tristis casus sui angore contabuit,
et consultu amicorum regi jam prope urbem venienti obviam
processit, et crimen proditionis confessus, claves urbi
victori exhibuit.” This time the keys were doubtless not
handed on the point of a spear.
[1161] Ord. Vit. 808 A. “Ipsum cum equis et armis incolumem
abire permisit, salvumque per Angliam usque ad mare
conductum porrexit.”
There is nothing very special in the other accounts. On the
story about Bishop Ralph in William of Malmesbury, see
above, p. 430. But William adds (v. 396) a remarkable
condition to Robert’s banishment; “Angliam perpetuo
abjuravit; sed vigorem sacramenti temperavit adjectio, nisi
regi placito quandoque satisfecisset obsequio.”
[1162] The native Chronicler alone notices this point. His
account of the siege of Bridgenorth――leaving out
Shrewsbury――runs thus; “Se cyng … syððan mid ealre his fyrde
ferde to Brigge, and þær wunode oððe he þone castel hæfde,
and þone eorl Rotbert belænde, and ealles benæmde þæs he on
Englalande hæfde, and se eorl swa ofer sǽ gewát, _and seo
fyrde siððan ham cyrde_.” Men might stay at home during the
rest of Henry’s days, unless they were called to go beyond
sea themselves.
[1163] Numbers, xxi. 29.
[1164] “Omnis Anglia exsulante crudeli tyranno exsultavit,
multorumque congratulatio regi Henrico tunc adulando dixit,
Gaude, rex Henrice, Dominoque Deo grates age, quia tu libere
cœpisti regnare, ex quo Rodbertum de Belismo vicisti, et de
finibus regni tui expulisti.”
[1165] Orderic and William of Malmesbury record the
banishment of both brothers. Florence mentions Arnulf only.
“Germanum illius [Rotberti] Arnoldum paulo post, pro sua
perfidia, simili sorte damnavit.” To the author of the Brut
the departure of Arnulf was of special importance. The King
gives him his choice, “either to quit the kingdom and follow
his brother, or else”――I can only follow the
translation――“to be at his will with his head in his lap.”
“When Ernulf heard that, he was most desirous of going after
his brother; so he delivered his castle [of Pembroke] to the
King, and the King placed a garrison in it.”
[1166] See N. C. vol. v. pp. 173, 184. See Chron. Petrib.
1105, 1112; Flor. Wig. ib. Cf. Hen. Hunt de Cont. Mundi,
II. “Qui cæteros carcere vexaverat, in carcere perenni a
rege Henrico positus, longo supplicio sceleratus deperiit.
Quam tantopere fama coluerat dum viveret, in carcere utrum
viveret vel obisset nescivit, diemque mortis ejus
obmutescens ignoravit.”
[1167] See Appendix II.
[1168] See Appendix II.
[1169] The latter is the story in the Brut; the Annales
Cambriæ say; “Jorwert filius Bledint Maredut frater suum
cepit, regi tradidit;” or, in another reading, “Cepit
fratrem suum Mareduch, et eum in carcerem regis trusit.”
[1170] See above, pp. 98, 108.
[1171] Brut, p. 75.
[1172] See N. C. vol. v. p. 160.
[1173] Ib. vol. i. pp. 327, 333.
[1174] The account in the Brut is that in 1101 (that is
1103) he “was cited to Shrewsbury, through the treachery of
the King’s council. And his pleadings and claims were
arranged; and on his having come, all the pleadings were
turned against him, and the pleading continued through the
day, and at last he was adjudged to be fineable, and was
afterwards cast into the King’s prison, not according to
law, but according to power.” Again I should like to be able
to judge of the translation. The Annals say in one copy,
“Iorward filius Bledint apud Saresberiam a rege Henrico
injuste capitur;” in another, “captus est ab hominibus regis
apud Slopesburiam.” Shrewsbury is of course the right
reading.
[1175] So says the Brut. The Annals also call him “decus et
solamen Britanniæ.”
[1176] His story is told among others by William of
Malmesbury, v. 397, 398.
[1177] The question of his blinding has a bearing on the
question of the blinding of Duke Robert. See N. C. vol. v.
p. 849.]
INDEX.
A.
Aaron, the Jew, i. 160 (_note_).
Abbeys,
sale of, by William Rufus, i. 134, 135, 347, 349;
vacancies of, prolonged by him, i. 134, 135, 347, 350, ii. 564;
Englishmen appointed to by him, i. 352;
in what sense the king’s, i. 455.
Aberafan,
held by the descendants of Jestin, ii. 87;
foundation of the borough, ii. 88.
Aberllech, English defeat at, ii. 107.
Aberlleiniog Castle, ii. 97;
destroyed by the Welsh, ii. 101;
rebuilt, ii. 129;
modern traces of, ii. 130;
fleet of Magnus off, ii. 143.
Aberllwehr Castle, ii. 103.
Abingdon Abbey, dealings of Hugh of Dun and Hugh of Buckland with,
ii. 665.
Adela, daughter of William the Conqueror, her correspondence with
Anselm, i. 374, ii. 571.
Adelaide,
wife of Walter Tirel, ii. 322, 673;
her tenure of lands in Essex, ii. 674.
Adeliza, Queen, wife of Henry I, ii. 389 (_note_).
Adeliza (Atheliz), abbess of Wilton, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 578.
Adeliza, wife of Roger of Montgomery, legend of her vow, ii. 154.
Adeliza, wife of William Fitz-Osbern, i. 266.
_Advocatio_, _advowson_, right and duty of, i. 420.
Ælfgifu-Emma. _See_ Emma.
Ælfheah, Archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm asserts his right to the
title of martyr, i. 377.
Ælfhere, Prior of Saint Eadmund’s, ii. 579.
Ælfred, King, Henry I descended from, ii. 383.
Ælfred of Lincoln, ii. 485.
Ælfsige, Abbot of Bath, his death, i. 136.
Ælwine Retheresgut, ii. 359 (_note_).
Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, fortifies Bridgenorth, ii. 152, 153
(_note_).
Æthelflæd, Abbess of Romsey, her alleged outwitting of William
Rufus, ii. 32, 600.
Æthelnoth the Good, Archbishop of Canterbury, his gift of a cope to
the Archbishop of Beneventum, i. 610.
Æthelred II., compared with William Rufus, ii. 307.
Æthelward, son of Dolfin, ii. 551.
Agnes of Ponthieu,
wife of Robert of Bellême, i. 180;
his treatment of her, i. 183;
escapes from him, i. 183 (_note_).
Agnes, wife of Helias of Maine, ii. 373.
Agnes, widow of Walter Giffard, said to have poisoned Sibyl of
Conversana, ii. 312 (_note_).
Aiulf, Sheriff of Dorset, ii. 485.
Alan the Black, lord of Richmond,
part of Bishop William’s lands granted to, i. 90;
his agreement with the Bishop, i. 93;
intervenes on his behalf, i. 109, 117, 120;
Rufus bids him give the Bishop ships, i. 114;
seeks Eadgyth-Matilda in marriage, ii. 602;
his death, _ib._
Albanians, followers of Magnus so called, ii. 623.
Alberic, Earl of Northumberland, confirms the grant of Tynemouth to
Jarrow, ii. 18, 605.
Alberic of Grantmesnil,
goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
called the “rope-dancer,” i. 565 (_note_).
Aldric, Saint, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 240, 633.
Alençon, garrison of,
driven out by Robert of Bellême, i. 193;
surrenders to Duke Robert, i. 218;
the army of William Rufus meets at, ii. 228.
Alexander the Great, William Rufus compared to, i. 287.
Alexander II., Pope, his excommunication of Harold, i. 612.
Alexander, King of Scotland,
son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;
driven out of Scotland, ii. 30;
his accession, ii. 124;
marries a daughter of Henry I, _ib._;
Anselm’s letter to, ii. 581.
Alexios Komnênos, Eastern Emperor,
appeals for help to the Council of Piacenza, i. 545;
Duke Robert does homage to, i. 564.
Allières, castle of, ii. 216, 217.
Almaric the Young, ii. 251.
Alnwick,
history of the castle and lords of, ii. 15, 596;
death of Malcolm III. at, ii. 16, 592.
Alton, meeting of Henry I and Robert near, ii. 408.
Alvestone, sickness of William Rufus at, i. 390.
Amalchis, brings news to William Rufus of the victories of Helias,
ii. 283, 645-652, 785.
Amalfi, siege of, i. 562.
Amalric of Montfort, gets possession of the county of Evreux, i. 268
(_note_).
Amercements, provision for, in Henry’s charters, ii. 354.
Amfrida, her correspondence with Anselm, ii. 571.
Anglesey,
advance of Hugh of Chester in, ii. 97;
deliverance of, ii. 101;
war of 1098 in, ii. 127 et seq.;
fleet of Magnus off, ii. 143;
his designs thereon, ii. 145;
subdued by Hugh of Chester, ii. 146;
recovered by the Welsh, ii. 301;
second visit of Magnus to, ii. 442.
_Annales Cambriæ_, ii. 3 (_note_).
Anselm,
his biographers, i. 325 (_note_), 369;
his birthplace and parentage, i. 366;
compared with Lanfranc, i. 368, 456;
his friendship with William the Conqueror, i. 368, 380;
not preferred in England by him, i. 368;
his character, i. 369;
his childhood and youth, i. 370, 371;
leaves Aosta, sojourns at Avranches, and becomes a monk at Bec,
i. 371;
elected prior and abbot, i. 372;
his wide-spread fame, i. 373;
his correspondence, i. 374, ii. 570 et seq.;
his desire to do justice, i. 377;
his first visit to England, _ib._;
asserts Ælfheah’s right to the title of martyr, _ib._;
his friendship with the monks of Christ Church, i. 378;
with Eadmer, i. 369, 378, 460;
his popularity in England, i. 378;
his preaching and alleged miracles, i. 379;
his friendship for Earl Hugh, i. 380;
entertained by Walter Tirel, i. 380 (_note_);
regarded as the future Archbishop, i. 381;
refuses Earl Hugh’s invitation to Chester, i. 383;
yields at last, at the bidding of his monks, i. 384;
hailed at Canterbury as the future Archbishop, i. 385;
his first interview with William Rufus, _ib._;
rebukes him, i. 386;
goes to Chester, i. 387;
the King refuses him leave to go back, i. 388;
his form of prayer for the appointment of an archbishop, i. 390;
the King’s mocking speech about, _ib._;
sent for by him, i. 393;
named by him to the archbishopric, i. 396, ii. 584;
his unwillingness, i. 396;
Rufus pleads with him, i. 398;
invested by force, i. 399;
his first installation, i. 400;
his prophecy and parable, i. 401;
has no scruple about the royal right of investiture, i. 403;
later change in his views, i. 404;
stays with Gundulf, i. 406;
his interview with William at Rochester, i. 412;
conditions of his acceptance, i. 413-416;
refuses to confirm William’s grants during the vacancy, i.
418-421;
states the case in a letter to Hugh of Lyons, i. 419, ii. 571,
576;
receives the archbishopric and does homage, i. 422;
his friendship with Abbot Paul of Saint Alban’s, i. 423;
the papal question left unsettled, i. 424, 432;
his enthronement, i. 427;
Flambard’s suit against him, i. 428;
his consecration, i. 429-432;
professes obedience to the Church of Rome, i. 432;
attends the Gemót at Gloucester, i. 434;
his unwilling contribution for the war against Robert, i. 437,
438;
his gift refused by the King, i. 439;
his dispute with the Bishop of London, i. 440;
at the consecration of Battle Abbey, i. 444;
insists on the profession of Robert Bloet, i. 446;
rebukes the courtiers, i. 449;
appeals to Rufus for reforms, i. 451;
asks leave to hold a synod, _ib._;
protests against fashionable vices, i. 452;
prays the King to fill vacant abbeys, i. 453;
his claim to the regency, i. 457;
attempts to regain the King’s favour, _ib._;
refuses to give him money, i. 458-460;
leaves Hastings, i. 460;
his interview with the King at Gillingham, i. 481;
asks leave to go to Urban for the pallium, i. 481-484;
argues in favour of Urban, i. 484;
asks for an assembly to discuss the question, i. 485;
insists on the acknowledgement of Urban, i. 486;
states his case at the assembly at Rockingham, i. 492;
how regarded by the King’s party, i. 493;
advice of the bishops to, i. 494;
sets forth his twofold duties, i. 495, 496;
compared with William of Saint-Calais, i. 497;
not the first to appeal to Rome, _ib._;
his speech to Rufus, i. 498;
sleeps during the debate, _ib._;
the King’s message and advice of the bishops, _ib._;
schemes of William of Saint-Calais against, i. 500;
speech of Bishop William to him, i. 502;
Anselm’s challenge, i. 505;
popular feeling with him, i. 507;
speech of the knight to, i. 508;
renounced by the King and the bishops, i. 512;
supported by the lay lords, i. 514;
proposes to leave England, i. 516;
agrees to an adjournment, i. 518;
his friends oppressed by the King, i. 520;
summoned to Hayes, i. 530;
refuses to pay for the pallium, i. 531;
reconciled to Rufus, _ib._;
refuses to take the pallium from him, i. 532;
absolves Bishops Robert and Osmund, i. 533;
restores Wilfrith of Saint David’s, i. 534;
receives the pallium at Canterbury, _ib._;
his alleged oath to the Pope, i. 535, ii. 588;
his letters to Cardinal Walter, i. 536, 538, ii. 41, 571;
entrusted with the defence of Canterbury, i. 537, ii. 44;
his canonical position objected to by the bishops, i. 539;
his dealings with his monks and tenants, i. 541;
attends Bishop William on his deathbed, i. 542, ii. 61;
consecrates English and Irish bishops, i. 544;
his letters to King Murtagh, i. 545 (_note_), ii. 581;
his contribution to the pledge-money, i. 558;
complaints made of his contingent to the Welsh war, i. 572;
position of his knights, i. 573;
summoned to the King’s court, i. 574;
change in his feelings, i. 575;
his yearnings towards Rome, i. 575-577;
new position taken by, i. 577;
determines to demand reform, i. 579,
and not to answer the new summons, _ib._;
favourably received, i. 581;
asks leave to go to Rome, i. 582, 583,
and is refused, _ib._;
renews his request, i. 584;
again impleaded, _ib._;
alternative given to by William, _ib._;
his answer to the bishops and lords, i. 585;
to Walkelin, i. 587;
charged with breach of promise, i. 589;
alternative given to him, _ib._;
his discourse to the King, i. 589-591;
the barons take part against him, i. 591;
his answer to Robert of Meulan, i. 592;
terms on which he is allowed to go, i. 592, 593;
his last interview with Rufus, i. 593;
blesses him, i. 594;
his departure from Canterbury, _ib._;
his departure foretold by the comet, ii. 118;
William of Warelwast searches his luggage, i. 595;
crosses to Whitsand, _ib._;
his estates seized by the King, _ib._;
his acts declared null, i. 596;
compared with Thomas of London and William of Saint-Calais, i.
598 et seq.;
does not strictly appeal to the Pope, i. 598;
does not assert clerical privileges, i. 599;
effects of his foreign sojourn on, i. 606;
writes to Urban from Lyons, i. 612;
alleged scheme of Odo Duke of Burgundy against, i. 606,
and of Pope Clement, i. 607;
his reception by Urban, _ib._;
known as “the holy man,” i. 608;
writes to Rufus, i. 613;
his sojourn at Schiavia, i. 615;
writes his “Cur Deus Homo,” _ib._;
plots of William Rufus against, _ib._;
his reception by Duke Roger, _ib._;
his kindness to the Saracens, i. 616;
forbidden to convert them, i. 617;
Urban forbids him to resign his see, _ib._;
defends the _Filioque_ at Bari, i. 609, 618;
pleads for William Rufus, _ib._;
Urban’s dealings with him, i. 621;
made to stay for the Lateran Council, i. 621;
special honours paid to, i. 607, 622;
goes to Lyons, i. 622;
hears of the death of Rufus, ii. 34, 363;
the monks of Canterbury beg him to return, ii. 363;
Henry’s letter to, ii. 364-366;
returns to England, ii. 369;
his connexion with Norman history, _ib._;
his meeting with Henry, ii. 374;
his dispute with Henry compared with that with Rufus, ii. 375;
his refusal to do homage and receive investiture, ii. 375, 376;
the question is adjourned, ii. 377, 378, 399;
no personal scruple on his part, ii. 377;
provisional restoration of his temporalities, ii. 378;
refuses his consent to the appointment of Eadwulf as abbot of
Malmesbury, ii. 383 (_note_);
Eadgyth appeals to, concerning her marriage with Henry, ii. 384;
holds an assembly on the matter, and pronounces in her favour,
ii. 384, 385, 683;
other versions of the story, ii. 385, 387;
celebrates the marriage, ii. 387;
his speech thereat, ii. 388;
mediates between Henry and his nobles, ii. 400;
his contingent against Robert, ii. 403;
his energy on behalf of Henry, ii. 410;
threatens Robert with excommunication, _ib._;
Henry’s compromise with, ii. 455;
called Saint before his canonization, ii. 661.
Ansfrida, mistress of Henry I,
story of, ii. 380;
buried at Abingdon, ii. 382.
Anskill of Berkshire,
story of, ii. 380;
notice of in Domesday, ii. 381 (_note_).
Anthony, Sub-Prior of Christ Church, appointed Prior of Saint
Augustine’s, i. 140.
Antioch,
“rope-dancers” at, i. 565;
death of Arnulf of Hesdin at, ii. 66.
Aosta, birthplace of Anselm, i. 366.
Aquitaine, Duke William proposes to pledge it to William Rufus,
ii.313.
Archard. _See_ Harecher.
Archbishop of Canterbury,
special position of, i. 358;
the parish priest of the Crown, i. 414 (_note_).
Archbishopric, meaning of the phrase “receiving” it, ii. 375.
Argentan Castle,
held by William Rufus, i. 462;
siege of, i. 463;
surrenders to Duke Robert, i. 464;
granted to Robert of Bellême, ii. 396;
held by him against Henry I, ii. 428.
Armethwaite Nunnery, alleged foundation of, by William Rufus, ii. 506.
Arnold, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 240, 634.
Arnold of Saint Evroul, translates Robert of Rhuddlan’s body to
Saint Evroul, i. 128.
Arnold of Escalfoy, poisoned by Mabel Talvas, i. 215.
Arnold of Percy, signs the Durham charter, ii. 530.
Arnold, Dr., on chivalry, ii. 508.
Arnulf of Hesdin,
his alleged foundation at Ruislip, i. 376 (_note_);
his gifts to Gloucester Abbey, ii. 65;
his innocence proved by battle, _ib._;
goes to the crusade and dies, ii. 66.
Arnulf of Montgomery,
son of Earl Roger of Shrewsbury, i. 57 (_note_);
begins Pembroke Castle, ii. 96;
plots against Henry, ii. 395;
his share in Robert of Bellême’s rebellion, ii. 423;
his dealings with King Murtagh, ii. 425, 622, 624;
and with King Magnus, ii. 426;
harries Staffordshire, ii. 429;
goes to Ireland, ii. 442;
his banishment, ii. 450.
Arques Castle, held by Helias of Saint-Saens, i. 236.
Arundel,
held by Earl Roger, i. 58;
position of, _ib._;
castle of, built T. R. E., _ib._;
priory founded at, by Earl Roger, i. 59 (_note_);
besieged by Henry I, ii. 428;
terms of its surrender, ii. 430;
its later fortunes, _ib._
Arundel, Earl of, origin of the title, i. 60 (_note_).
Ascalon, battle of, i. 623.
Ascelin Goel, his war with William of Breteuil, i. 243 (_note_).
Assemblies, frequency of, under William Rufus, i. 487.
Aumale Castle,
surrendered to William Rufus, i. 228;
strengthened by him, i. 229.
Auvergne, mention of in the Chronicle, i. 547 (_note_).
Avesgaud, Bishop of Le Mans, signs the foundation charter of Lonlay
Abbey, 539.
Avon, at Bristol, i. 37.
Avranchin, bought by Henry of Robert, i. 196, ii. 510-516.
B.
Baldwin of Boulogne, King of Jerusalem,
his dream, i. 269, ii. 122;
its fulfilment, i. 270;
marries Godehild of Toesny, i. 270 (_note_);
goes on the first crusade, i. 551;
besieged in Rama, ii. 122;
Anselm’s letters to, ii. 581.
Baldwin, Abbot of Saint Eadmund’s,
rebuilds his church, ii. 268;
translates Saint Eadmund’s body, ii. 270;
his journey to Rome, _ib._;
his death, ii. 267, 270;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Baldwin of Tournay, monk of Bec,
his advice to Anselm, i. 399;
driven out of England by William Rufus, i. 520;
recalled, i. 542;
leaves England with Anselm, i. 595.
Ballon,
castle of, i. 209;
siege and surrender of, i. 209-211;
betrayed to William Rufus and occupied by Robert of Bellême,
ii. 235;
Fulk’s unsuccessful attempt on, ii. 236;
William’s treatment of the captive knights, ii. 237, i. 171;
strengthened by Robert of Bellême, ii. 282.
Bamburgh Castle, ii. 47, 607;
relic of Saint Oswald at, ii. 49;
question as to the date of the keep, _ib._;
held by Robert of Mowbray against William Rufus, ii. 50, 607;
effect of the making of the Malvoisin tower, ii. 51, 608;
siege abandoned by Rufus, ii. 52, 609;
Robert’s escape from, ii. 53, 609;
defended by Matilda of Laigle, ii. 54, 610;
surrender of, ii. 54.
Bari, Archbishop of,
Wulfstan’s correspondence with, i. 479;
Council of (1098), i. 608, 618.
Barnacles not to be eaten on fast-days, ii. 93 (_note_).
Basilia, wife of Hugh of Gournay, her correspondence with Anselm,
ii. 571.
Bath,
burned by Robert of Mowbray, i. 41;
see of Wells moved to, i. 136, ii. 483;
temporal lordship of, granted to John of Tours, i. 137, ii. 487;
dislike of the monks to Bishop John’s changes, i. 138;
buildings of John of Tours at, i. 138, ii. 486;
church of, called _abbey_, i. 139;
later charters concerning, ii. 487;
sales and manumissions done at, ii. 489.
Battle Abbey,
gifts of William Rufus to, i. 18, 168, ii. 504;
consecration of the church, i. 443;
gifts of Bernard of Newmarch to, ii. 90.
Bayard, Chevalier, at the siege of Padua, i. 173.
Beaumont-le-Roger, i. 185.
Beaumont-le-Vicomte, ii. 229.
Beavers, lawfulness of eating their tails on fast-days, ii. 93
(_note_).
Bec Abbey,
fame of, under Anselm, i. 373;
its intercourse and connexion with England, i. 374-376, ii. 572;
Gundulf’s letter to the monks, i. 405;
monks of, object to Anselm’s accepting the primacy, i. 406.
_Belfry_, origin of the name, ii. 520.
Bellême,
surrenders to Duke Robert, i. 218;
site of the old castle, i. 218 (_note_).
Benefices,
vacant, policy of William Rufus with regard to, i. 134, 336,
337, 347, 348, ii. 564;
sale of, under Rufus, i. 134, 347, 349;
sale of, not systematic before Rufus, i. 348.
Beneventum, Archbishop of,
sells the arm of Saint Bartholomew to the Lady Emma, i. 609;
Æthelnoth’s gift of a cope to, i. 610.
Benjamin the monk, ii. 579.
Bequest, right of, confirmed by Henry I, i. 338, ii. 354.
Berkeley,
harried by William of Eu, i. 44;
its position and castle, i. 45.
Berkshire pool, portent of, ii. 258, 316.
Bermondsey Priory, its foundation, ii, 508.
Bernard of Newmarch,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;
his conquest of Brecknock, ii. 89-91;
his gifts to Battle Abbey, ii. 90;
marries Nest, granddaughter of Gruffydd, _ib._
Bertrada of Montfort,
brought up by Countess Heloise, ii. 193;
sought in marriage by Fulk of Anjou, ii. 192;
marries him, ii. 194;
her adulterous marriage with Philip of France, i. 548, ii. 171,
172;
Bishop Ivo of Chartres protests against, i. 559 (_note_);
denounced by Hugh of Lyons, ii. 173;
excommunicated, i. 549, ii. 173;
her sons, ii. 174;
schemes against Lewis, _ib._
Berwick, granted to and withdrawn from the see of Durham, ii. 121.
Bishops,
their power in the eleventh century, i. 138;
no reference to the Pope in their appointment, i. 425;
order of their appointment then and now, i. 425-427;
theories of the two systems, i. 426;
why the peers’ right of trial does not extend to, i. 604
(_note_).
Bishoprics,
sale of, under William Rufus, i. 134, 347, 349;
vacant, his policy with regard to, i. 134, 336, 337, 347, 350,
ii. 564.
Blasphemy, frequency of, i. 166.
Blèves, castle of, ii. 216, 217.
Blindness, armies smitten with, ii. 478, 480.
Blyth Priory,
founded by Roger of Bully, ii. 161;
granted to Saint Katharine’s at Rouen, ii. 162 (_note_).
Bofig, his lordship of Rockingham, i. 490.
Bohemond, Mark, brother of Roger of Apulia,
besieges Amalfi, i. 561;
goes on the crusade, i. 562;
origin of his name, i. 562 (_note_).
Boleslaus King of Poland, i. 611.
Bonneville,
castle of, ii. 285;
early history and legends of, ii. 286.
Boso of Durham, his visions, ii. 59.
Botolph, Abbot of Saint Eadmund’s, ii. 268.
Bourg-le-roi, castle of, ii. 232.
Boury, castle of, ii. 189.
Brecknock,
conquest of, ii. 89-91;
castle of, ii. 90;
revolt of, ii. 106.
Bribery under William Rufus, i. 153, 344.
Bridgenorth,
fortified by Æthelflæd, ii. 152, 153 (_note_);
fortress of Robert of Bellême at, ii. 155-158;
churches and town of, ii. 157;
defence of, against Henry I, ii. 428, 432;
siege of, ii. 435 et seq.;
dealings of the captains with Henry, ii. 440;
divisions in, ii. 442;
surrender of, ii. 444.
Brihtric, son of Ælfgar, lands of, held by Robert Fitz-hamon, ii. 83.
Brionne,
said to be exchanged for Tunbridge, i. 68 (_note_);
granted to Roger of Beaumont, i. 194;
taken by Duke Robert, i. 244.
Bristol,
its position in the eleventh century, i. 37;
castle of that date, i. 37, 38;
later growth of, i. 39;
occupied by Bishop Geoffrey, i. 40.
Britain,
effects of the reign of William Rufus on its union, ii. 6;
causes of the union, ii. 7;
English conquest of, compared with Rufus’s conquest of Wales,
ii. 72;
changes in, in the eleventh century, ii. 303 et seq.;
fusion of elements in, ii. 304;
ceases to be another world, ii. 305.
Brockenhurst, William Rufus at, ii. 321.
Bromham, grant of, to Battle Abbey, ii. 504.
Brunton, church of, granted to the monks of Durham, ii. 535.
_Brut-y-Tywysogion_, the two versions of, ii. 3, 4 (_note_).
Brychan, King, his daughters, ii. 90.
Buckler, Mr., on Ilchester, i. 43 (_note_).
Bulgaria, use of the name, i. 563.
Bures,
castle of, i. 236;
taking of, i. 463.
Burf Castle, ii. 158.
Burgundius, brother-in-law of Anselm, ii. 579.
C.
Cadulus, Anselm’s advice to, i. 372.
Cadwgan, son of Bleddyn,
drives out Rhys ap Tewdwr, i. 12;
harries Dyfed, ii. 92;
his revolt, ii. 99;
his action in Dyfed, ii. 101;
mentioned in the Chronicle, ii. 111;
schemes to save Anglesey, ii. 128;
flees to Ireland, ii. 131;
returns to Wales, ii. 301, 424;
his settlement with Robert of Bellême, ii. 424;
his action on his behalf, ii. 433, 442;
Ceredigion ceded to, by Jorwerth, ii. 451.
Caen,
treaty of, i. 275 et seq., ii. 522-528;
its short duration, i. 283.
Caerau. _See_ Carew.
Caermarthen, conquest of, ii. 102.
Caerphilly Castle, ii. 87.
Cæsar, C. Julius, his speech compared with that of William Rufus,
ii. 497, 647, 652.
_Candida Casa._ _See_ Whithern.
Canonization, popular, instances of, ii. 339.
Canterbury, citizens of,
side with the monks of Saint Augustine’s against Guy, i. 139;
monks from Christ Church sent to Saint Augustine’s, i. 140;
vengeance of William Rufus on, i. 141;
the city granted to the archbishopric, i. 423;
Anselm’s enthronement and consecration at, i. 427, 429;
his dealings with the monks, i. 540;
their rights confirmed by William Rufus, i. 423;
rebuilding of the choir, i. 597;
its consecration under Henry I, _ib._
Canterbury, Archbishopric of,
policy of William Rufus in keeping the see vacant, i. 328, 360,
ii. 565;
Flambard’s action in the matter, i. 363 (_note_);
effects of the vacancy, i. 357, 363-365;
its special position as metropolitan, i. 357;
no attempt at election, i. 362;
feeling as to the vacancy, i. 381;
prayers for the appointment of the Archbishop, i. 389;
the Archbishop the parish priest of the Crown, i. 414 (_note_).
Cantire,
Magnus at, ii. 141;
part of Sigurd’s kingdom, ii. 146;
its formal occupation by Magnus, ii. 147.
Capua, siege of, i. 614, ii. 403.
Caradoc, son of Gruffydd, ii. 81, 82.
Cardiff,
castle of, ii. 77, 84, 86;
Robert Fitz-hamon’s settlement at, ii. 81, 84;
borough of, ii. 88.
Careghova Castle,
built by Robert of Bellême, ii. 158;
history of the site, ii. 159 (_note_);
strengthened by Robert, ii. 428.
Carew Castle, ii. 95.
Carlisle,
its cathedral church called _abbey_, i. 139 (_note_);
history and character of, i. 314, 317;
destroyed by Scandinavians, i. 315;
conquered by William Rufus, i. 4, 313-315, 318;
Saxon colony in, i. 316, ii. 550;
earldom of, i. 317, ii. 545-551;
its analogy with Edinburgh and Stirling, i. 317;
wall and castle of, i. 318;
see founded by Henry I, _ib._;
effects of its restoration on Scotland, ii. 8;
not an English earldom under the Conqueror, ii. 546;
shire of, ii. 549;
its purely British name, ii. 550;
entries of, in the Pipe Roll, ii. 551.
Castles,
building of, in Normandy, i. 192;
garrisoned by William the Conqueror, _ib._;
building of, in Wales, ii. 70, 76, 77, 93, 108, 112;
rarity of, in England, as compared with Maine, ii. 220.
Caux, obtained as dowry by Helias of Saint-Saens, i. 235.
Cedivor, Prince of Dyfed, ii. 78.
Cenred the priest,
his mutilation, ii. 132;
restoration of his speech, _ib._
Ceredigion,
conquest of, ii. 92, 93;
action of Cadwgan in, ii. 101;
recovered by the Welsh, ii. 301;
ceded to Cadwgan by Jorwerth, ii. 451.
Charma, M., his Life of Anselm, i. 325 (_note_).
Château du Loir, ii. 275, 276;
Helias flees to, ii. 287.
Château-Gonthier, ii. 428.
Château-Thierry, monks of Saint Cenery flee to, i. 213.
Chaumont-en-Vexin,
claimed by William Rufus, ii. 176;
castle of, ii. 185;
siege of, ii. 248.
Cherbourg, ceded to William Rufus, i. 276.
Chester,
Robert of Rhuddlan buried at, i. 127;
his gifts, i. 127 (_note_);
Earl Hugh’s reforms at, i. 127 (_note_), 381, 382;
Anselm at, i. 387.
Chivalry,
growth of, under William Rufus, i. 169;
its true character, _ib._;
Palgrave and Arnold on, i. 169, ii. 508;
its one-sided nature, i. 172;
practical working of, _ib._;
illustrations of, i. 173, 291, ii. 237, 406, 534;
tenure in, systematized by Flambard, i. 335;
personal character of, ii. 407.
Christina, Abbess of Romsey, her treatment of Eadgyth-Matilda,
ii. 31, 32, 599.
Chronicle, the, witness of, to Flambard’s system of feudalism,
i. 335.
Church, R. W., his Life of Anselm, i. 326 (_note_), 370.
Church, Sir Richard, paralleled with Robert son of Godwine, ii. 123.
Church lands,
revenues of, appropriated by William Rufus, i. 336, 337, 347, 349;
feudalization of, i. 346;
nature of Rufus’s grants of, i. 419.
Churches, plundered to raise the pledge-money for Normandy, i. 558.
Clare, Suffolk, priory of, a cell of Bec, i. 376.
Clarendon, news of the loss of Le Mans brought to Rufus at, ii. 283,
645.
Clark, G. T.,
on Malling tower, i. 70 (_note_);
on Rochester, i. 79 (_note_);
on the site of Careghova Castle, ii. 159 (_note_);
on “The Land of Morgan,” ii. 615.
Clemence, Countess of Boulogne, Anselm’s letters to, ii. 581.
Clement,
Anti-Pope, i. 415;
his position, i. 488;
excommunicated at the Council of Clermont, i. 549;
his alleged scheme against Anselm, i. 607.
Clergy,
their exemption from temporal jurisdiction asserted by William
of Saint-Calais, i. 97;
not asserted by Anselm, i. 599;
their corruption under William Rufus, i. 363.
Clerks,
the king’s, preferments held by, i. 330;
their position and power, i. 342, 343.
Clermont,
Council of (1095), i. 545;
decrees of, i. 548;
crusade preached at, i. 549.
Coinage, false, issue of, punished by Henry I, ii. 353.
Coker (Somerset), grant of, to Saint Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 504.
Colchester, story of Eudo’s good rule at, ii. 464.
Coldingham, lands of, granted to Durham, ii. 121.
Comet, foretells the departure of Anselm, ii. 118.
Commons, House of, foreshadowed by the outer council of the Witan,
i. 603.
Conan of Rouen,
his wealth, i. 246;
his treaty with William Rufus, i. 247, 248;
exhorts the citizens against Gilbert of Laigle, i. 253;
taken prisoner by Henry, i. 256;
his death, i. 257-259, ii. 516-518.
Conches,
besieged by William of Evreux, i. 261, 266, ii. 627;
its position, i. 262, 264;
abbey and castle of, i. 265.
Conrad,
son of the Emperor Henry the Fourth, i. 522;
receives Urban at Cremona, i. 525;
his marriage, i. 526.
Constantius I, Emperor, his voyage to Britain, ii. 648.
Corbet, his lands in Shropshire, ii. 433 (_note_).
Cornelius the monk, i. 545 (_note_).
Corsham (Wilts), grant of, to Saint Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 504.
Cosan the Turk, joins the crusaders, i. 565.
Côtentin, bought by Henry of Robert, i. 196, ii. 510-516.
Coulaines,
William Rufus encamps at, ii. 233;
ravaged by him, ii. 234, 625, 627.
Courcy,
siege of, i. 274, ii. 519-522;
church of, ii. 522.
Cowbridge, ii. 88.
Coyty, held by Pagan of Turberville, ii. 87.
Cricklade, entry of, in Domesday, i. 480 (_note_).
Croc the huntsman, signs the foundation charter of Salisbury
Cathedral, i. 309 (_note_).
Croset-Mouchet, M.,
his life of Anselm, i. 325 (_note_);
on Anselm’s parentage, i. 366 (_note_).
Crusade, the first,
its bearing on English history, i. 546;
no kings take part in, _ib._;
a Latin movement, _ib._;
argument in favour of, ii. 207;
success of, ii. 306.
Crusades, Palgrave’s condemnation of, ii. 509.
Cumberland,
why not entered in Domesday, i. 313, ii. 547 et seq.;
Scandinavians in, i. 315;
earldom of, a misnomer, ii. 548;
origin of the modern county, ii. 549.
_Curia Regis_, the, i. 102.
Cuthberht, Saint, appears to Eadgar of Scotland, ii. 119.
D.
Dadesley. _See_ Tickhill.
Danesford, ii. 152, 155.
Dangeuil Castle,
strengthened by Helias, ii. 213;
site of, ii. 214;
effects of his occupation, _ib._;
Helias taken prisoner near, ii. 223.
David, King of Scots,
son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;
driven out of Scotland, ii. 30;
divides the kingdom with Alexander, ii. 124;
marries Matilda, daughter of Waltheof, ii. 124;
effects of his reign on Scottish history, ii. 125;
his English position, _ib._;
invades England on behalf of the Empress Matilda, _ib._;
his mocking speech to Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 390;
earldom of Carlisle granted to, ii. 549.
Deverel (Wilts), lordship of, held by Bec, i. 375.
Diacus, Bishop of Saint James of Compostella, his correspondence
with Anselm, ii. 582.
Dimock, J. F., his defence of Robert Bloet, ii. 585.
Dolfin, son of Gospatric, lord of Carlisle, driven out by William
Rufus, i. 315.
Domesday, alleged new version of, by Randolf Flambard, i. 332,
ii. 562.
Domfront,
enmity of Robert of Bellême to, i. 183, 319;
men of, choose Henry to lord, i. 319, ii. 538;
position of, i. 319;
kept by Henry I, ii. 413, 691.
Donald Bane, King of Scots, i. 475;
story of his attempting to disturb Margaret’s burial, ii. 28,
597;
his election, ii. 29;
drives out the English, _ib._;
driven out by Duncan, ii. 34;
his restoration, ii. 36;
dethroned and imprisoned by Eadgar, ii. 119.
Donald,
sent by King Murtagh to the Sudereys, ii. 137;
driven out, ii. 138.
Dress, new fashions in, i. 158, ii. 500-502.
Drogo of Moncey, marries Eadgyth, widow of Gerard of Gournay,
i. 552.
Duncan, King of Scots, son of Malcolm,
set free by Robert, i. 13;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
claims the Scottish crown, ii. 33;
his Norman education, ii. 34;
receives the crown from William Rufus, i. 475, ii. 5, 34;
overthrows Donald, _ib._;
his death, ii. 36;
his burial, ii. 36 (_note_).
Dunfermline,
Malcolm translated to, ii. 18;
Margaret’s burial at, ii. 28, 597.
Dunstable, Prior of,
his alleged warning to William Rufus, ii. 334;
minster of, founded by Henry I, ii. 663.
Dunster, church of, granted by William of Moion to the church of
Bath, ii. 490.
Durham, cathedral church of,
called _abbey_, i. 139 (_note_);
evidence of, in charters, i. 305, ii. 535;
rebuilding of the abbey, ii. 11;
Malcolm takes part in laying the foundation, ii. 11, 12;
works of Bishop William of Saint-Calais at, ii. 60;
gifts of King Eadgar to, ii. 121;
works of Randolf Flambard at, ii. 272;
monks of, favourably treated by William Rufus, i. 298, ii. 508;
building of the refectory, i. 299;
Bishop William restored to, _ib._
Durham castle, surrendered to William Rufus, i. 114.
Dwyganwy,
peninsula and castle of, i. 123, 124;
attack made by Gruffydd on, i. 24;
meeting of Magnus and the two Earls Hugh at, ii. 143.
Dyfed,
harried by Cadwgan, ii. 92;
conquest of, _ib._;
action of Cadwgan in, ii. 101;
grant of, by Henry I, ii. 451.
Dyrrhachion, Duke Robert crosses to, i. 563.
E.
Eadgar Ætheling,
banished from Normandy, i. 281, ii. 527;
policy of William Rufus towards, _ib._;
goes to Scotland, i. 282;
mediates between Rufus and Malcolm, i. 301, ii. 541;
reconciled to Rufus, i. 304;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
returns to Normandy with Robert, i. 307;
his mission to Malcolm, ii. 9, 10, 590;
protects Malcolm’s children, ii. 30, 31;
his designs as to the Scottish crown, ii. 114;
Ordgar’s charge against, ii. 115, 617;
his acquittal by ordeal, ii. 117;
estimate of the story, ii. 117, 615;
marches to Scotland, ii. 118;
and wins the crown for his nephew Eadgar, ii. 120;
goes on the crusade, ii. 121;
not thought of to succeed William Rufus, ii. 344;
his character, ii. 393.
Eadgar, King of Scots,
son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;
brings the news of his father’s death, ii. 27;
driven out of Scotland, ii. 30;
his vision, ii. 119;
dethrones and imprisons Donald, _ib._;
his gifts to Durham and to Robert son of Godwine, ii. 121;
his action towards Robert Flambard, _ib._;
his peaceful reign, ii. 123;
his death, ii. 124;
bears the sword before William Rufus at his Whitsun feast,
ii. 265;
results of his succession, ii. 304.
Eadgyth, wife of Henry I _See_ Matilda.
Eadgyth, mistress of Henry I and mother of Matilda Countess of
Perche, ii. 379.
Eadgyth, mistress of Henry I and wife of Robert of Ouilly, ii. 379.
Eadgyth,
wife of Gerard of Gournay, i. 230;
goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
her second marriage, i. 552 (_note_).
Eadmer,
his belief in the ordeal, i. 166 (_note_);
his Life of Anselm, i. 325, 369;
his friendship with Anselm, i. 369, 378, 460;
references to in other writers, i. 370;
on the Norman campaign of 1094, i. 474;
leaves England with Anselm, i. 595;
recognizes the cope of Beneventum at Bari, i. 609, 610;
bishop-elect of Saint Andrews, ii. 124.
Eadmund, Saint, king of the East-Angles,
his miracles, ii. 268;
translation of his body, ii. 270.
Eadmund,
son of Malcolm and Margaret, ii. 22;
helps Donald against Duncan, ii. 36;
becomes a monk at Montacute, ii. 120;
his burial in chains, _ib._
Eadmund the monk, his vision, ii. 604.
Eadric the Wild, marked as “Edric Salvage,” ii. 433 (_note_).
Eadric the Provost, ii. 270 (_note_).
Eadward the Confessor, his law restored by Henry I, ii. 357.
Eadward, son of Malcolm and Margaret, killed at Alnwick, ii. 16, 21,
594.
Eadwine, King of the Northumbrians, builds a church at Tynemouth,
ii. 603.
Eadwulf, Abbot of Malmesbury, ii. 383 (_note_).
Eardington, lordship of, ii. 154.
Earle, John, on Bath, i. 42 (_note_).
Earthquake of 1089, i. 176.
Edinburgh, Margaret’s death at, ii. 28, 597.
Edward the Black Prince and the massacre of Limoges, i. 173;
his twofold character, _ib._
Eginulf of Laigle, i. 243 (_note_).
Eglaf of Bethlington, priest, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Einion,
story of him and Jestin, ii. 80;
estimate of the story, ii. 81, 614.
Eleanor of Aquitaine, her foundation at Tickhill, ii. 432.
Emma (Ælfgifu), the Lady,
buys the arm of Saint Bartholomew of the Archbishop of
Beneventum, i. 610;
changes her name on her marriage, ii, 305.
Emma, daughter of Count Robert of Sicily, sought in marriage by
Philip of France, ii. 171 (_note_).
Emma, wife of Ralph of Wader, goes on the first crusade, i. 552.
Emmeline, wife of Arnulf of Hesdin, her gifts to Gloucester Abbey,
ii. 65.
Empire, Western,
advance of, in the eleventh century, ii. 305, 306;
alleged designs of William Rufus on, ii. 314.
Empire, Eastern, decline of, ii. 306.
England,
extension of, under William Rufus, i. 4;
beginning of her rivalry with France, i. 5, 228, 240;
her wealth, _ib._;
her European position, _ib._;
unity of, i. 81;
how indebted to foreigners, i. 365;
in what sense feudal, i. 341;
compared with Normandy, i. 468;
wretchedness of, under Rufus, i. 474;
position of, towards the Popes, i. 496;
her relations with Sicily, i. 526;
Welsh inroad into, ii. 100;
rarity of castles in, as compared with Maine, ii. 220;
oppression in, during William’s absence in Normandy, ii. 256;
various grievances in, ii. 258;
changes in, in the eleventh century, ii. 303 et seq.;
becomes part of the Latin world, ii. 305;
united under Henry I against Norman invasion, ii. 401.
English,
accept William Rufus as king, i. 7, 16, 20, 66, 131;
their loyalty to him, 18, 64, 65, 130;
their hatred of Odo, i. 67, 86;
their position under Rufus, i. 133;
native, not specially oppressed by him, i. 341;
growth of their power and nationality under Rufus, ii. 4.
English and Normans, fusion of, i. 130, 134, ii. 401, 455.
English Conquest, compared with that of Wales, ii. 72.
Englishmen,
the fifty charged with eating the king’s deer, i. 155, 614,
ii. 494;
acquitted by ordeal, i. 156.
Epernon, castle of, ii. 251.
_Epitumium_, Orderic’s use of the word, ii. 288 (_note_).
Erling, Earl of Orkney,
taken prisoner by Magnus, ii. 140;
his death in Norway, _ib._
Ermenberga, daughter of Helias,
betrothed to Geoffrey of Anjou, ii. 232;
married to Fulk of Anjou, ii. 232 (_note_), 374.
Ermenberga, mother of Anselm, her pedigree, i. 366 (_note_).
Ermengarde of Bourbon, second wife of Fulk of Anjou, ii. 192.
Ernan, “Biscope sune,” ii. 605.
Erneis of Burun, his action in the case of Bishop William, i. 114.
Ernulf, Bishop of Rochester, his buildings at Christchurch,
Canterbury, i. 597.
Ernulf of Hesdin. _See_ Arnulf of Hesdin.
Etard, Abbot of Saint Peter on Dives, his appointment, i. 570.
Eu, castle of, Philip and Robert march against, i. 238.
Eudo of Rye,
story of his share in the accession of William Rufus, ii. 463;
how he became _dapifer_, _ib._;
his good deeds at Colchester, ii. 464, 465.
Eulalia, Abbess, Anselm’s letters to, ii. 578.
Eustace III. Count of Boulogne,
sent over to England by Duke Robert, i. 56, ii. 465 et seq.;
agrees to surrender Rochester, i. 80;
pleading made for, i. 84;
goes on the first crusade, i. 551.
Eustace, monk of Bec, i. 399.
Eustace, father of one Geoffrey, Anselm rebukes him for bigamy,
ii. 579.
Eustace, son of William of Breteuil, i. 268 (_note_).
Eva, widow of William Crispin, her correspondence with Anselm,
ii. 571.
Everard of Puiset, goes on the first crusade, i. 551.
Evreux Castle,
garrisoned by William the Conqueror, i. 192;
its position and history, i. 262-264.
Ewenny, priory of, ii. 86, 89.
Exmes, Robert of Bellême driven back from, i. 242.
Eynesham, monks of Stow moved to, ii. 585, 587.
Eystein, brother of Sigurd, does not go on the crusade, ii. 206.
F.
Faricius, Abbot of Abingdon,
his appointment, ii. 360;
why not appointed to the see of Canterbury, _ib._;
recovers the manor of Sparsholt, ii. 380 (_note_).
Farman the monk, ii. 579.
Farn Islands, ii. 50.
Fécamp, ceded to William Rufus, i. 276.
Feudalism, developement of,
under Rufus, i. 4;
systematized by Randolf Flambard, i. 324, 335 et seq., 341.
Feudal tenures,
mainly the work of Flambard, i. 335, 336;
abolished in 1660, _ib._
Finchampstead, portent at, ii. 258, 316.
Flanders, her share in the first crusade, i. 547.
Flemings,
their settlement in Pembrokeshire, ii. 70 (_note_), 74, 88, 615;
whether also in Gower and Glamorgan, ii. 88, 103.
Florus, son of Philip and Bertrada, ii. 174.
Forest laws,
become stricter under William Rufus, i. 155;
enforced by Henry I, ii. 355.
Forfeiture, provision as to, in Henry’s charter, ii. 354.
Fourches, castle of, ii. 428.
France,
beginning of her rivalry with England, i. 5;
effects of the war with, i. 7;
her rivalry with Normandy, i. 201;
her first direct dealings with England, i. 240;
her relations with England and Normandy, _ib._;
designs of William Rufus on, ii. 167;
his war with, ii. 167, 171, 175 et seq.;
its position compared with that of Maine, ii. 168-170.
Francis I of France, compared with William Rufus, i. 173.
_Frank-almoign_, tenure of, i. 350.
_Franks_, Eastern name for Europeans, i. 546.
Fresnay-le-Vicomte, castle and church of, ii. 229.
Freystrop, ii. 95 (_note_).
Frome (river) at Bristol, i. 38.
Fulcher,
brother of Randolf Flambard, ii. 552;
receives the see of Lisieux, ii. 416.
Fulchered, Abbot of Shrewsbury, his sermon at Gloucester, ii. 318.
Fulcherius Quarel, i. 215 (_note_).
Fulk, Abbot of Saint Peter on Dives, his deposition and restoration,
i. 570.
Fulk, Bishop of Beauvais, Anselm intercedes for, ii. 582.
Fulk, Rechin, Count of Anjou,
Robert does homage to, for Maine, i. 204;
patronizes pointed shoes, i. 159, ii. 502;
his wives, ii. 172 (_note_), ii. 192;
Robert seeks help from him, _ib._;
seeks Bertrada of Montfort in marriage, _ib._;
marries her, ii. 194;
garrisons Le Mans, ii. 232, 628;
his unsuccessful attempt on Ballon, ii. 236;
returns to Le Mans, ii. 237, 628;
his convention with William, ii. 238, 628-630;
helps Helias to besiege the castle of Le Mans, ii. 370.
Fulk, Count of Anjou, King of Jerusalem, marries Ermenberga daughter
of Helias, ii. 374.
Fulk, Dean of Evreux, father of Walter Tirel, ii. 322, 672.
G.
Gaillefontaine, castle of, surrendered to Rufus, i. 230.
Galen, story of, i. 151 (_note_).
Galloway, dealings of Magnus with, ii. 141.
Gausbert, Abbot of Battle, i. 443.
Gentry, growth of, under Henry I, ii. 356.
Geoffrey, Archbishop of Rouen,
his appointment to the deanery of Le Mans, ii. 201;
nominated bishop by Helias, ii. 210;
set aside by the chapter, _ib._;
appointed to the see of Rouen, _ib._
Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 27, 34, ii. 470;
occupies Bristol, i. 40;
notices of his estates, _ib._;
his relation to Bristol, _ib._;
his speech on behalf of William of Saint-Calais, i. 100;
charges the Bishop’s men with robbing his cattle, i. 113;
his death, i. 444.
Geoffrey, Bishop of Chichester, his death, i. 135.
Geoffrey, monk of Durham, charge brought against him, i. 116,
ii. 60 (_note_).
Geoffrey of Baynard, his combat with William of Eu, ii. 63.
Geoffrey Martel,
son of Fulk Rechin and Ermengarde, ii. 192;
betrothed to Ermenberga daughter of Helias, ii. 232;
left by his father in command of Le Mans, _ib._
Geoffrey, Count of Mayenne, i. 205;
submits to Duke Robert, i. 209;
founds the castle of Saint Cenery, i. 214;
accepts the succession of Hugh, ii. 195, 197;
truce granted to him by Rufus, ii. 230;
estimate of his conduct, ii. 231;
submits to Rufus, ii. 241.
Geoffrey Plantagenet, his parentage, ii. 374.
Geoffrey, Count of Perche,
enmity of Robert of Bellême to, i. 183, 242;
Orderic’s estimate of, i. 242 (_note_).
Gerald, Abbot of Tewkesbury, visits Wulfstan, i. 479.
Gerald of Windsor,
his wife Nest, ii. 97, 110 (_note_);
builds Pembroke Castle, ii. 96;
defends it against the Welsh, ii. 101, 108;
his devices against them, ii. 109;
his mission to King Murtagh, ii. 425;
grant of Henry I to, ii. 451.
Gerald, story of his attempt on Randolf Flambard’s life, ii. 560.
Gerard, Bishop of Hereford and Archbishop of York,
his mission to Pope Urban, i. 524, 525;
returns with Legate Walter, i. 526;
his appointment and consecration, i. 543, 544;
present at the consecration of Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317;
signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366;
appointed to the see of York, ii. 392.
Gerard, Bishop of Seez,
story of the capture of his clerk by Robert of Bellême, ii. 521;
his death, _ib._
Gerard of Gournay,
submits to William Rufus, i. 229;
his castle, i. 230;
supports Rufus, i. 472;
goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
his death, ii. 55.
Germinus. _See_ Jurwine.
Geronto, Abbot of Dijon,
his mission to William Rufus, i. 553, ii. 558;
rebukes him, i. 554;
overreached by him, _ib._;
Anselm’s letter to, ii. 589.
Geroy, history of his descendants, i. 214.
Gervase, Archbishop of Rheims, ii. 196.
Gervase, nephew of Bishop Gervase of Le Mans, ii. 201 (_note_).
_Gevelton._ _See_ Yeovilton.
Giffard, in the fleet of Magnus, ii. 451.
Gilbert, Bishop of Evreux,
goes on the first crusade, i. 560;
goes to Sicily, i. 562;
attends Odo on his deathbed, i. 563;
Anselm’s letter to, ii. 575.
Gilbert Maminot, Bishop of Lisieux, his death, ii. 416.
Gilbert of Clare,
holds Tunbridge Castle against William Rufus, i. 68;
surrenders, i. 69;
his gift of the priory of Clare to Bec, i. 376;
his confession to Rufus, ii. 45;
with him in the New Forest, ii. 321.
Gilbert of Laigle,
drives back Robert of Bellême, i. 242;
his descent and kindred, i. 243 (_note_);
comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249, 253;
enters Rouen, i. 256;
taken prisoner by Lewis, ii. 190;
charged with the government of Le Mans, ii. 241;
with William Rufus in the New Forest, ii. 321;
legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338, 676.
Gilbert, nephew of Bishop Walcher, ii. 605.
Gillingham,
meeting of Anselm and William Rufus at, i. 477-481;
written _Illingham_ by Eadmer, i. 477 (_note_).
Gilo de Soleio, beholds William’s army on its way to Maine, ii. 228.
Giraldus Cambrensis,
born at Manorbeer, ii. 95;
his parentage, ii. 97.
Gisa, Bishop of Somerset, his death, i. 136.
Gisors Castle,
its first defences by Pagan or Theobald, ii. 186;
strengthened by Robert of Bellême, ii. 151, 187;
under Henry II., ii. 188;
its present appearance, _ib._;
restored to Pagan by Duke Robert, ii. 396.
_Givele._ _See_ Yeovil.
Glamorgan,
legend of the conquest of, ii. 79-81, 613;
estimate of the story, ii. 81;
settlement of, by Robert Fitzhamon, ii. 81, 84;
distinguished from Morganwg, ii. 85;
its extent, _ib._;
military character of its churches, ii. 88.
Gloucester,
sickness of William Rufus at, i. 391;
Anselm’s first installation at, i. 400;
meetings at, ii. 10, 13, 33.
Gloucester Abbey,
gifts of Arnulf and Emmeline of Hesdin to, ii. 65;
works of Robert Fitz-hamon at, ii. 84;
grant of Welsh churches to, _ib._;
consecration of, ii. 317;
Abbot Fulchered’s sermon there, ii. 318.
Gloucestershire, ravaged by William of Eu, i. 41, 44.
Godehild, daughter of Ralph of Toesny, her marriages, i. 270 (_note_).
_Godgifu_, nickname given to Matilda, ii. 389.
Godred Crouan,
his dominion, ii. 136;
his expulsion and death, ii. 137;
his sons, _ib._
_Godric and Godgifu_, nicknames given to Henry I and Matilda, ii. 389.
Godricus _unus liber homo_, holds Sparsholt, ii. 380 (_note_).
Godwine, Earl, a benefactor of Christ Church, Twinham, ii. 555.
Godwine of Winchester,
story of his duel with Ordgar, ii. 116, 617;
notices of him in Domesday, ii. 116, 616;
estimate of the story, ii. 117, 615.
Godfrey of Lorraine, goes on the first crusade, i. 552.
Goodeve, surname, a corruption of Godgifu, ii. 389 (_note_).
Gordon, General, parallelled with Robert son of Godwine, ii. 123.
Gosfridus Mala Terra, ii. 485.
Gospatric, son of Beloch, ii. 551.
Gospatric, son of Mapbennoc, ii. 551.
Gospatric, son of Orm, ii. 551.
Gournay, castle and church of, i. 230.
Gower,
no part of Glamorgan, ii. 85;
conquest of, ii. 102;
castles built in, ii. 103;
alleged West-Saxon settlement of, ii. 103, 615;
granted to Howel, ii. 451.
Gruffydd, son of Cynan,
his Irish allies, i. 122;
attacks Rhuddlan, _ib._;
at Dwyganwy, i. 124;
invades England, ii. 100;
schemes to save Anglesey, ii. 128;
fails to hold it and flees to Ireland, ii. 131;
returns to Wales, ii. 301, 424;
his settlement with Robert of Bellême, ii. 424.
Gruffydd, grandson of Cadwgan, defeats the English, ii. 107.
Gruffydd, son of Rhydderch, ii. 81.
Gundrada of Gournay, marries Nigel of Albini, ii. 55, 612.
Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester,
his buildings at Rochester, i. 54 (_note_);
his tower at Malling, i. 70;
sent to punish the monks of Saint Augustine’s, i. 140;
his friendship with Anselm, i. 374;
his letter to the monks of Bec, i. 405;
Anselm’s visit to, i. 406;
blasphemous speech of William Rufus to, i. 407;
present at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
question as to his action in the council of Rockingham,
i. 516 (_note_);
present at the consecration of Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317;
his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
expounds William Rufus’s dream to him, ii. 661.
Gundulf, father of Anselm, i. 366.
Guy of Etampes, Bishop of Le Mans, his rebuilding after the fire,
ii. 639.
Guy, Abbot of Pershore, his share in the defence of Worcester,
ii. 481.
Guy, Abbot of Saint Augustine’s,
sent with a summons to Bishop William, i. 90;
driven out by the monks and citizens, i. 139;
signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Guy, monk of Christ Church, i. 140 (_note_).
Guy, Count of Ponthieu, i. 180.
Guy of the Rock,
his fortress of Roche Guyon, ii. 180;
submits to William Rufus, ii. 181.
Guy of Vienne, Legate, his pretensions not acknowledged, ii. 391.
Guy the Red Knight,
helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519;
his daughter betrothed to King Lewis, _ib._
Gwenllwg, revolt of, ii. 106.
Gwent, revolt of, ii. 106; English defeat in, ii. 107.
Gwynedd, revolt in, ii. 424.
H.
Haimericus de Moria, his conference with Helias, ii. 371.
Hair, long, fashion of, i. 158, ii. 500.
Hakon, Earl of Orkney,
Anselm’s letter to, ii. 581;
his murder of Saint Magnus and repentance, ii. 582.
Hallam, held by Roger of Bully, ii. 160.
Hallam, Henry, on Henry VIII., i. 173 (_note_).
Hamon, Viscount of Thouars, notices of his lands, ii. 83 (_note_).
Hamon the _Dapifer_, signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366.
Harecher, or Archard, of Domfront,
revolts against Robert of Bellême, i. 319, ii. 538;
signs the foundation charter of Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.
Harold, son of Godwine,
case of his excommunication, i. 612;
his Welsh campaign compared with that of William Rufus, ii. 71,
105.
Harold, son of Harold, with the fleet of Magnus, ii. 134-136, 619.
Harold, son of Godred Crouan, ii. 137.
Harrow, church of, dispute as to its consecration, i. 440.
Hartshorne, Mr.,
on Rochester, i. 53 (_note_), 54 (_note_);
on Alnwick, ii. 592.
Hasgard, ii. 95 (_note_).
Hasse, M., his Life of Anselm, i. 325 (_note_).
Hastings, castle of,
held by Robert of Eu, i. 229;
assembly at, i. 441;
consecration of Robert Bloet at, i. 445.
Hastings, Frank Abney, paralleled with Robert son of Godwine,
ii. 123.
Haverfordwest Castle, ii. 95.
Hebrides. _See_ Sudereys.
Hedenham, grant of, to Rochester, ii. 506.
Helias of La Flèche,
contrasted with Rufus, i. 171;
enmity of Robert of Bellême to, i. 183;
his character and descent, i. 205, ii. 195, 196;
submits to Duke Robert, i. 209;
his position compared with that of King Philip, ii. 169;
his castles, ii. 196;
his wife Matilda, _ib._;
his possible claim on the county of Maine, ii. 195, 197;
imprisons and sets free Bishop Howel, ii. 198, 199, 624;
buys the county of Hugh, ii. 203;
excellence of his reign, ii. 204;
his friendship for Bishop Howel, _ib._;
prepares to go on the crusade, ii. 205;
estimate of his action, ii. 206;
his interview with Robert and with William Rufus, ii. 207-210;
challenges Rufus, ii. 208;
makes ready for defence, ii. 210;
his action in the appointment to the bishopric, ii. 211, 624;
his acceptance of Hildebert the cause of the war, ii. 213, 625;
strengthens Dangeul Castle, ii. 213, 214;
his guerilla warfare, ii. 215;
defeats Robert of Bellême at Saônes, ii. 222;
his second victory over him, ii. 223;
taken prisoner near Dangeul, ii. 223, 224, 625;
surrendered to William Rufus, ii. 225;
honourably treated by him, _ib._;
Hildebert negotiates for his release, ii. 238, 625, 628-630;
William agrees to release him, ii. 238, 628;
his interview with William at Rouen, ii. 242-245, 640-645;
defies him, ii. 243, 641;
is set free, ii. 244, 642, 643;
his renewed action, ii. 275;
marches against Le Mans, ii. 277;
his victory at Pontlieue, ii. 278;
recovers Le Mans, _ib._;
besieges the castles in vain, ii. 282;
flees to Château-du-Loir, ii. 287;
burns two castles, ii. 288;
returns to Le Mans, ii. 370;
his dealings with the garrison of the castle, ii. 370, 371;
called the “White Bachelor,” ii. 371;
his conference with Walter of Rouen, _ib._;
surrender of the castle to, ii. 373;
his last reign, _ib._;
his friendship with Henry I, ii. 373, 413;
his second marriage, _ib._;
descent of the Angevin kings from him, ii. 374;
notices of his death, ii. 374 (_note_);
Anselm’s letter to him, ii. 581.
Helias of Saint-Saens,
married to Robert’s daughter, i. 235;
his descent, _ib._;
importance of his position, i. 236;
his fidelity to Robert, i. 237.
Heloise, Countess of Evreux,
her rivalry with Isabel of Conches, i. 231-234, 245;
Orderic’s account of her, i. 237 (_note_);
her banishment and death, i. 270;
Bertrada of Montfort brought up by, ii. 193.
Henry IV.,
Emperor, i. 549;
excommunicated at the Council of Clermont, i. 549, 611.
Henry I,
his familiar knowledge of English, i. viii;
the one Ætheling among William’s sons, i. 11, ii. 461;
an alleged party favours his immediate succession, i. 11
(_note_);
difficulties in the way of it, i. 20;
refuses a loan to Robert, i. 196;
buys the Côtentin and Avranchin of him, i. 196, ii. 510-516;
his firm rule, i. 197, 221;
goes to England and claims his mother’s lands, i. 195, 197;
William Rufus promises them to him, i. 197;
brings Robert of Bellême back with him, i. 199;
imprisoned by Duke Robert, _ib._;
set free, i. 220;
strengthens his castles, i. 221;
comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 248;
sends him away, i. 254;
takes Conan, i. 256;
puts him to death with his own hand, i. 257-259, ii. 516-518;
policy thereof, i. 260;
William and Robert agree together against, i. 278, ii. 527;
excluded from the succession by the treaty of Caen, i. 280;
his position as Ætheling, i. 281;
William’s policy towards, _ib._;
strengthens himself against his brothers, i. 283;
besieged by them at Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 284-292,
ii. 528-535;
Robert’s generosity to, i. 291, ii. 534;
surrenders, i. 293;
accompanies William to England, i. 293, 295;
his alleged adventures, i. 294, ii. 535-540;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
chosen lord of Domfront, i. 319, ii. 538;
restored to William’s favour, i. 321;
wars against Robert, _ib._;
gets back his county, _ib._;
occupies the castle of Saint James, _ib._;
grants it to Earl Hugh, i. 323;
alleged spoliation of, by Flambard, i. 334, 357;
helps Robert, grandson of Geroy, against Robert of Bellême,
i. 469;
summoned by William to Eu, _ib._;
goes to England, i. 470;
reconciled to William, _ib._;
returns to Normandy and wars against Robert, _ib._;
William’s grants to, i. 567;
story of him on the day of William’s death, ii. 321, 345, 346;
his claims to the throne, ii. 344;
his speedy election, ii. 345, 680;
William of Breteuil withstands his demand for the treasure,
ii. 346, 680;
popular feeling for him, ii. 346, 351;
his formal election, ii. 347, 348;
fills up the see of Winchester, ii. 349;
his coronation, ii. 350, 681;
goes to London with Robert of Meulan, ii. 350, 680;
form of his oath, ii. 350;
his charter, i. 336, 338, 342, 344, ii. 352-357;
his statute against the mercenaries, i. 154, ii. 498;
his policy towards the second order, ii. 356;
his alleged laws, ii. 357;
his appointments to abbeys, ii. 359;
imprisons Randolf Flambard, ii. 361;
his inner council, ii. 362;
recalls Anselm, ii. 364;
Norman intrigues against, ii. 367, 368, 393, 395;
his war with Robert, _ib._;
the garrison of Le Mans send an embassy to, ii. 372;
his friendship with Helias, ii. 373, 413;
his meeting with Anselm, ii. 374;
his dispute with him compared with that of Rufus, i. 605,
ii. 374;
calls on Anselm to do homage, ii. 375;
the question is adjourned, ii. 377, 378, 399;
his reformation of the court, ii. 379, 502;
his personal character, ii. 379;
his mistresses and children, ii. 97, 110 (_note_), 380, 381,
389, 414;
seeks Eadgyth-Matilda in marriage, ii. 382, 684;
his descent from Ælfred, ii. 383;
objections to the marriage, ii. 384, 683-688;
later fables about his marriage, ii. 387, 684, 685;
his marriage, ii. 387;
his nickname of _Godric_, ii. 389;
his children by Matilda, _ib._;
appoints Gerard to the see of York, ii. 392;
his rule distasteful to the Normans, ii. 395;
plots against him, ii. 395, 399;
his Whitsun gemót, ii. 399;
loyalty of the Church and people to, ii. 401, 410, 411;
fusion of Normans and English under, ii. 401, 455;
peace of his reign, ii. 402, 454;
his levy against Robert’s invasion, ii. 403;
desertion of some of his fleet, ii. 404, 686;
and of certain of the nobles, ii. 409;
his nickname of _Hartsfoot_, _ib._;
his trust in Anselm, and promises to him, ii. 410, 411;
his exhortation to his army, ii. 411;
his negotiations with Robert, ii. 412;
their personal meeting and treaty, ii. 412-415, 538, 688-691;
his schemes against the great barons, ii. 415;
his rewards and punishments, ii. 417;
his action against Robert of Bellême, ii. 421, 422;
negotiates against him with Duke Robert, ii. 426;
besieges Arundel, ii. 428;
Arundel and Tickhill surrender to him, ii. 428, 429;
his faith pledged for Robert of Bellême’s life, ii. 430, 438;
his Shropshire campaign, ii. 432 et seq.;
besieges Bridgenorth, ii. 435-444;
division of feeling in his army, ii. 437;
appeal of his army to, ii. 438;
his dealings with the Welsh, ii. 439, 451-453;
surrender of Bridgenorth to, ii. 444;
his march to Shrewsbury, ii. 446-448;
Robert of Bellême submits to, ii. 448;
banishes him and his brothers, ii. 449, 450;
his later imprisonment of Robert of Bellême, i. 184, ii. 450;
banishes William of Mortain, ii. 453;
character and effects of his reign, ii. 454, 457;
the refounder of the English nation, ii. 455;
his compromise with Anselm, _ib._;
England reconciled to the Conquest under, ii. 456;
his correspondence with Anselm, ii. 579;
see of Carlisle founded by, i. 318;
at the consecration of Canterbury Cathedral, i. 597 (_note_);
his settlement of Flemings in Pembrokeshire, ii. 70 (_note_);
his second marriage, ii. 389 (_note_);
seizes on the treasure left by Magnus at Lincoln, ii. 624.
Henry II.,
his blasphemy, i. 167;
question of the legatine power granted to, i. 526 (_note_);
estimate of his dispute with Thomas, i. 605.
Henry VIII. compared with Francis I, i. 173 (_note_).
Henry of Beaumont,
earldom of Warwick granted to, i. 472;
his influence in favour of the election of Henry I, ii. 348, 680;
his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
one of his inner council, ii. 362;
signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366;
the owner of a burgess at Gloucester, ii. 564.
Henry of Huntingdon as a contemporary writer, i. 9 (_note_).
Henry of Port, his signature to the charter of Henry I, ii. 358.
Henry, son of Nest and Henry I, ii. 379.
Henry, son of Swegen, ii. 551.
Heppo the _balistarius_, given as a surety to Bishop William, i. 114,
120.
Herbert Losinga, Bishop of Thetford,
buys the see for himself, i. 354, ii. 568;
and the Abbey of New Minster for his father, i. 355;
repents, and receives his bishopric from the Pope, i. 355,
ii. 568;
anger of Rufus thereat, i. 356, ii. 569;
not present at Anselm’s consecration, i. 429;
deprived by Rufus, i. 448, ii. 569;
restored to his see, i. 449, ii. 569;
moves the see to Norwich, _ib._
Hereditary right, growth of, i. 280.
Hereford, seized by Robert of Lacy, i. 46.
Herfast, Bishop of Thetford, his encounter with Saint Eadmund,
ii. 268.
Herlwin, Abbot of Glastonbury, his appointment, ii. 360.
Hervey, Bishop of Bangor, at the consecration of Gloucester Abbey,
ii. 317.
Hiesmois, war in, ii. 428.
Hildebert, Bishop of Le Mans,
his election accepted by Helias, ii. 211, 625;
his character, ii. 212;
anger of William Rufus at his election, ii. 213, 625;
negotiates for the release of Helias, ii. 238, 625, 628-630;
at the head of the municipal council of Le Mans, ii. 226, 238;
welcomes William Rufus into Le Mans, ii. 240;
reconciled to him, ii. 297, 626;
charges brought against, _ib._;
ordered to pull down the towers of Saint Julian’s, ii. 297, 298,
654;
receives the kiss of peace from Rotrou’s mother, ii. 373 (_note_);
translated to the see of Tours, ii. 212;
Anselm’s letters to, ii. 580.
Hildebert II., Abbot of Saint Michael’s Mount, his buildings, i. 284.
Hilgot of Le Mans, ii. 201.
Holm Peel, Island of, Magnus at, ii. 141.
Honour, law of,
as practised by William Rufus, i. 85, 92, 169, 408, ii. 14, 237,
244;
Palgrave on, ii. 508.
Hook. W. F., his estimate of Anselm, i. 326 (_note_).
Howard, family of, ii. 430 (_note_).
Howel, Bishop of Le Mans,
his loyalty to Duke Robert, i. 205, 208, ii. 198;
story of his appointment, i. 205;
consecrated at Rouen, i. 207, 208;
his conduct during the famine, i. 208;
imprisoned by Helias, ii. 198, 624;
liberated by him, ii. 199;
flees to Robert and is bidden to return, ii. 200;
his disputes with Hugh and with his chapter, ii. 201;
comes to England, _ib._;
his reconciliation and return, ii. 202;
his friendship with Helias, ii. 204;
translates Saint Julian, _ib._;
his buildings, ii. 205, 634 et seq., 656;
entertains Urban, ii. 205;
his sickness, _ib._;
and death, ii. 210;
foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral signed by, i. 309
(_note_).
Howel, Welsh prince, flees to Ireland, ii. 301.
Howel, son of Goronwy,
besieges Pembroke, ii. 108;
grants to, by Henry I, ii. 452.
Hubert of Rye, his alleged share in the accession of William the
Conqueror, ii. 463.
Hucher, M., on Le Mans, ii. 631.
Hugh, Archbishop of Lyons,
denounces Philip’s adulterous marriage, ii. 173;
advises Anselm to return after the death of Rufus, ii. 364;
Anselm’s letter to, i. 419, ii. 571, 576.
Hugh, Saint, his foreign origin, i. 365.
Hugh of Saint-Calais, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings at and gifts
to Le Mans, ii. 639, 640.
Hugh, Abbot of Clugny, his dream about William Rufus, ii. 341, 666.
Hugh, Abbot of Flavigny,
his story of the mission of Abbot Geronto, ii. 588;
marvellous tales told by, ii. 589;
his chronicle and career, _ib._
Hugh or Hugolin with the Beard, ii. 489.
Hugh the Great, brother of King Philip, goes on the first crusade,
i. 350.
Hugh of Avranches, Earl of Chester,
his loyalty to William Rufus, i. 34, 62;
supports Henry, i. 221;
surrenders his castle to William, i. 283;
his alleged advice to Henry, ii. 530;
joins Henry, i. 320;
castle of Saint James granted to, i. 323, ii. 540;
his friendship with Anselm, i. 380;
his changes at Saint Werburh’s at Chester, i. 381, 382;
seeks help from Anselm, i. 382;
his sickness and messages to Anselm, i. 383;
summoned by William Rufus to Eu, i. 469;
goes to England, i. 470;
his share in the conspiracy of Robert of Mowbray, ii. 38;
urges the mutilation of William of Eu, ii. 64;
his advance in Anglesey, ii. 97;
his last expedition to Anglesey, ii. 129-146, 619;
bribes the wikings, ii. 130;
his cruelty to the captives, ii. 131, 132;
makes peace with Magnus, ii. 145;
Anglesey and North Wales subdued by, ii. 146;
compared with Robert of Bellême, ii. 150;
hastens to acknowledge Henry I as king, ii. 362;
one of Henry’s inner council, _ib._;
his death, ii. 410;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536;
Anselm’s letter of rebuke to, ii. 580.
Hugh Bardolf, gate of Montfort Castle named after, ii. 254.
Hugh, of Beaumont,
reads the charge against Bishop William, i. 98;
defies him, i. 101.
Hugh, Earl of Bedford, i. 98 (_note_), ii. 419 (_note_).
Hugh of Buckland, Sheriff of Berkshire, his dealings with Abingdon
Abbey, ii. 665.
Hugh of Dun, his dealings with Abingdon Abbey, ii. 665.
Hugh of Este, son of Azo,
sent for by the men of Maine, ii. 195, 198;
his succession accepted by Helias, ii. 197;
reaches Le Mans, ii. 200;
his dispute with Bishop Howel, ii. 201;
reconciled to him, ii. 202;
his unpopularity, _ib._;
puts away his wife and is excommunicated, _ib._;
bought out by Helias, ii. 203.
Hugh of Evermouth, i. 571.
Hugh of Grantmesnil,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;
his ravages, i. 36;
strengthens his castle against Robert of Bellême, i. 274;
his death and burial, i. 473.
Hugh of Jaugy, i. 565, ii. 123.
Hugh of Lacy, grant of his brother’s estates to, ii. 63.
Hugh, Count of Meulan, i. 185.
Hugh of Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 57;
succeeds his father in England, i. 473;
buys his pardon of Rufus, ii. 62;
his expedition into Anglesey, ii. 129-144, 619;
bribes the wikings, ii. 130;
his cruelty to the captives, ii. 131, 132;
his death, ii. 144, 618-621;
his burial, ii. 145;
effects of his death, ii. 147, 150, 618.
Hugh of Port, i. 117, 120.
Humbald, Archdeacon of Salisbury, ii. 384.
Humbert, Count of Maurienne, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 580.
I.
Ida, Countess of Boulogne, her correspondence with Anselm, i. 374,
384, ii. 571, 581.
Ilchester,
description of, i. 43;
besieged by Robert of Mowbray, _ib._
Ingemund,
sent by King Murtagh to the Sudereys, ii. 138;
his death, _ib._
Ingulf, prior of Norwich, ii. 569.
Investiture,
royal right of, i. 345, 346;
not questioned by Anselm, i. 403;
change in his views in regard to, i. 404;
forbidden by the Council of Clermont, i. 548;
dispute between Henry I and Anselm, ii. 375 et seq.;
Anselm’s letters about, ii. 579, 584.
Iona, isle of,
Margaret’s gifts to, ii. 21;
Duncan buried at, ii. 36 (_note_);
spared by Magnus, ii. 141.
Ireland,
designs of William the Conqueror on, ii. 94;
of William Rufus on, ii. 93;
of Magnus of Norway on, ii. 136, 141, 620.
Irish, help Rhys and Gruffydd, i. 121, 122.
Isabel or Elizabeth of Vermandois, daughter of Hugh the Great,
married to Robert of Meulan, i. 187 (_note_), 551;
her marriage denounced by Bishop Ivo of Chartres, i. 551
(_note_);
her second marriage, i. 187 (_note_).
Isabel, daughter of Robert of Meulan, mistress of Henry I, i. 187
(_note_), ii. 380.
Isabel of Montfort, wife of Ralph of Conches,
her rivalry with Heloise of Evreux, i. 231-234, 245;
her character, i. 233;
takes the veil, i. 233 (_note_), 271.
Isabel, daughter of William of Breteuil, given in marriage to Ascelin
Goel, i. 243, 268 (_note_).
Ivo, Bishop of Chartres,
his advice to Anselm, i. 367 (_note_);
denounces the marriage of Isabel and Robert of Meulan, i. 551
(_note_);
protests against the marriage of King Philip and Bertrada, i. 559
(_note_), ii. 173.
Ivo of Grantmesnil,
goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
called the “rope-dancer,” i. 565 (_note_);
plots against Henry, ii. 395;
harries his neighbours’ lands, ii. 417;
his trial and conviction, _ib._;
his bargain with Robert of Meulan, ii. 418;
his relations with Leicester, _ib._
Ivo, son of Ivo of Grantmesnil, ii. 418.
Ivo Taillebois,
his action in the case of Bishop William, i. 114, 115;
holds Kirkby Kendal, ii. 549.
Ivo of Veci, lord of Alnwick, ii. 596.
Ivor, grandson of Cadwgan, defeats the English, ii. 107.
Ivry,
granted to William of Breteuil, i. 194;
lost by him, i. 243;
claimed by Robert of Meulan, _ib._
J.
Jarrow, Tynemouth granted to, ii. 18, 605.
Jeronto, Abbot. _See_ Geronto.
Jerusalem, kingdom of, said to have been refused by Duke Robert,
i. 566.
Jerusalem, Patriarch of, Wulfstan’s correspondence with, i. 479.
Jestin, son of Gwrgan,
story of him and Einion, ii. 80;
estimate of the story, ii. 81, 614;
his descendants, ii. 81 (_note_), 82, 87;
his alleged long life, ii. 614.
Jews,
settle in England, i. 160;
their position, _ib._;
favoured by Rufus, i. 161;
compared with the Sicilian Saracens, _ib._;
dispute between their rabbis and English bishops, _ib._;
converts forced to apostatize by Rufus, i. 162, 614, ii. 504.
John, King, his devotion to the shrine of Wulfstan, i. 481.
John of Tours,
bishopric of Somerset granted to, i. 136, ii. 483;
removes the see to Bath, _ib._;
his doings at Wells and at Bath, i. 138, ii. 486;
his architectural works, i. 138;
assists Osmund to consecrate Salisbury cathedral, i. 309;
at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
Anselm confers with him at Winchester, i. 586;
at the deathbed of William of Durham, ii. 61;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
John, Bishop of Tusculum, ii. 488.
John, Abbot of Telesia, i. 615.
John, Prior of Bath, letter of Anselm to, ii. 490.
John, son of Odo of Bayeux, ii. 488.
John of La Flèche, father of Helias, ii. 196.
Jones, Longueville, on Penmon and Aberlleiniog, ii. 130 (_note_).
Jorwerth, son of Bleddyn,
becomes the man of Robert of Bellême, ii. 424;
his action on behalf of Robert, ii. 433;
promises of Henry I to, ii. 439;
influences the Welsh on his behalf, ii. 440, 442;
his war with his brothers, ii. 451;
Henry’s want of faith to, _ib._;
his trial and imprisonment, ii. 452;
his later history, ii. 453.
Judith, wife of Tostig, her invention of Saint Oswine’s body,
ii. 18, 604.
Julian, Saint, translation of his body, ii. 204.
Juliana, natural daughter of Henry I, i. 201, ii. 380.
Jurwine, son of King Anna of East-Anglia, ii. 268 (_note_).
_Justice_, technical use of the word, i. 191 (_note_).
Justiciarship, growth of the office under Flambard, i. 331.
K.
Kenfig, borough of, ii. 88.
Kidwelly, ii. 86;
conquest of, ii. 102;
granted to Howell, ii. 451.
Kings, doctrine of their immunity from drowning, ii. 284, 647, 648,
651.
Kirkby Kendal, held by Ivo Taillebois, ii. 549.
Knights,
privileges granted to, by Henry I, ii. 355;
effect of this grant, ii. 356.
L.
La Chartre, castle of, ii. 275.
La Ferté Saint Samson, castle of, surrendered to Rufus, i. 230.
La Flèche,
Helias withdraws to, ii. 275;
castle of, ii. 276.
La Houlme, castle of,
held by Rufus, i. 462;
taken by Robert, i. 465.
La Lude, castle of, ii. 275.
La Roche Guyon, castle of, ii. 180, 181.
Lagman, son of Godred Crouan, ii. 137.
Laigle, town of, i. 73 (_note_).
Lambert, chaplain to Ida of Boulogne, ii. 581.
Lambeth,
grant of, to Rochester, ii. 506;
given in exchange to Canterbury, _ib._
Land, tenure of, Flambard’s theory of, i. 337.
Lanfranc,
his special agency in the accession of William Rufus, i. 10,
12, ii. 459;
his grief at the death of William the Conqueror, i. 15;
crowns William Rufus, _ib._;
binds him to follow his counsel, i. 16, ii. 460;
attends the Christmas assembly at Westminster, i. 18;
Odo’s hatred towards, i. 24, 53 (_note_);
his loyalty to William, i. 63;
his part in the meeting at Salisbury, i. 95, 119;
his view of vestments, i. 95;
his position as regards that of Bishop William, i. 97;
his answer to Bishop Geoffrey, i. 100;
to Bishop William, i. 105, 110;
interposes on his behalf, i. 113;
his death, i. 140;
its effect on William Rufus, i. 141, 142, 148 (_note_);
his position in England and Normandy, i. 141;
buried at Christ Church, i. 142;
his relations with William the Conqueror, i. 328;
compared with Anselm, i. 368, 456;
advises Anselm to become a monk of Bec, i. 371.
Lanfranc, nephew of Archbishop Lanfranc, ii. 575.
Laodikeia, Eadgar and Robert at, i. 564.
Lateran,
Council of (1099), i. 607, 621;
destruction of the apse, i. 607 (_note_).
Leckhampsted, lands at, taken from Abingdon Abbey, ii. 665.
Legitimacy, growth of the doctrine of, i. 280.
Le Hardy,
M. Gaston, quoted, i. 145 (_note_);
his apology for Duke Robert, i. 175 (_note_).
Leicester,
college at, founded by Robert of Meulan, ii. 420;
foundation of the abbey, _ib._;
churches at, ii. 420 (_note_).
Leicester, earldom of, its origin, ii. 418.
Le Mans,
temporal relations of the bishopric, i. 207;
under an interdict, ii. 199;
claims of the Norman dukes over the bishopric, ii. 200, 212;
Howel’s buildings at, ii. 205;
Pope Urban’s visit to, _ib._;
welcomes Duke Robert’s host, i. 209;
new municipality of, ii. 226;
garrisoned by Fulk, ii. 232, 628;
besieged by Rufus, ii. 233-235;
siege of, raised, ii. 235;
submits to Rufus, ii. 238, 628;
fortresses of, ii. 239, 631;
entry of Rufus into the town, ii. 240;
description of the church, _ib._;
recovered by Helias, ii. 278;
the castles still held for Rufus, ii. 279;
compared with the deliverance of York, _ib._;
burning of, ii. 280;
modern destruction at, ii. 281 (_note_);
William’s march against, ii. 287;
flight of the citizens, ii. 288;
William’s treatment of, ii. 295, 296;
orders the destruction of the towers of Saint Julian’s, ii. 297,
654;
description of the towers, ii. 299, 655;
return of Helias to, ii. 370;
action of the garrison, ii. 370-373;
palace of the counts at, ii. 632, 656;
dates of the building, ii. 632-639, 656;
burning of, ii. 638.
Leofwine, Dean of Durham, ii. 605.
Lewes,
held by William of Warren, i. 59;
customs of, i. 59 (_note_);
William of Warren’s death and burial at, i. 62 (_note_), 76.
Lewis VI. of France (the Fat), ii. 170;
Bertrada’s schemes against him, ii. 174;
grant of the Vexin to, ii. 175;
refuses to cede the Vexin to William Rufus, ii. 176;
his difficulties in the war with William, ii. 178;
betrothed to a daughter of Guy the Red Knight, ii. 519;
his letter to Anselm, ii. 580.
Lewis IX. of France (Saint Lewis),
his ordinance against blasphemy, i. 167;
his walls at Rouen, i. 252.
Ligulf, father of Morkere, ii. 605.
Limoges, massacre of, i. 173 (_note_).
Lincoln,
its connexion with Norway, ii. 134;
Jews at, i. 160 (_note_);
prevalence of the slave-trade at, i. 310;
completion of the minster, _ib._;
Thomas of York claims jurisdiction over, i. 311, 433;
consecration delayed by the death of Remigius, i. 312;
see kept vacant by Rufus, i. 356, 381;
jurisdiction over again claimed by Thomas of York, i. 433;
compromise concerning, i. 447.
Lindesey, jurisdiction of, claimed by Thomas of York, i. 311.
Lindisfarn, Isle of, ii. 50 (_note_).
Llancarfan, church of, granted to Gloucester abbey, ii. 84.
Llandaff, see of, ii. 86, 89.
Llanrhidian Castle, ii. 103.
Llantrissant, ii. 88.
Llantwit, church of, granted to Tewkesbury, ii. 84.
Llywelyn, son of Cadwgan, his death, ii. 301.
Loir, Castle of the. _See_ Château-du-Loir.
London,
Jews settle in, i. 160;
great wind and fire in, i. 308;
buildings of William Rufus in, ii. 258, 261;
growth of its greatness, ii. 261;
dogs of, mentioned by Hugh of Flavigny, ii. 589.
London Bridge, ii. 259, 260, 261.
London, Tower of. _See_ Tower of London.
Longueville, castle of, surrendered to Rufus, i. 231.
Lonlay Abbey, foundation charter of, ii. 539.
Lords, House of,
foreshadowed by the inner Council of the Witan, i. 603;
gradual developement of, ii. 58.
_Losinga_, origin of the name, ii. 570.
Lothian, question as to the homage of Malcolm for, i. 303, ii. 541
et seq.
_Luca, per vultum de_,
favourite oath of William Rufus, i. 108, 112, 164, 289, 391, 511
(_note_), ii. 61 (_note_), 503, 650;
meaning of the phrase, ii. 503.
Lucan, whether quoted by Rufus, ii. 642, 647.
Lugubalia. _See_ Carlisle.
Lund, archbishopric of, ii. 582.
Lurçon, castle of, ii. 216.
M.
Mabel, wife of Earl Roger, poisons Arnold of Escalfoi and seizes on
Saint Cenery, i. 215.
Mabel, daughter of Robert Fitz-hamon, marries Robert of Gloucester,
ii. 83.
Maelgwyn, i. 124.
Magnus Barefoot, king of Norway,
his expedition into Britain, ii. 133 et seq., 617-624;
character of his reign, ii. 133;
his surnames, _ib._;
professes friendship for England, _ib._;
his sons, _ib._;
his treasure at Lincoln, ii. 134, 624;
his designs on Ireland, ii. 136, 141, 620;
his alleged Irish marriage, ii. 136, 622;
his voyage among the islands, ii. 136, 140-142;
legend of him and Saint Olaf, ii. 139;
seizes the Earls of Orkney, ii. 140;
grants the earldom to Sigurd, _ib._;
his dealings with Galloway, ii. 141;
occupies Man, _ib._;
approaches Anglesey, ii. 143, 619, 621;
kills Hugh of Shrewsbury, ii. 144, 620, 621;
makes peace with Hugh of Chester, ii. 145;
his designs on Anglesey, _ib._;
his dealings with King Murtagh, ii. 146, 622;
and with Scotland, ii. 147;
Arnulf of Montgomery negotiates with, ii. 426;
his second voyage round Britain, ii. 442;
his castle-building in Man, _ib._;
refuses help to Robert of Bellême, ii. 443, 623, 624;
his death, ii. 451;
described as “rex Germaniæ,” ii. 619, 620.
Magnus, Saint, murdered by Hakon, ii. 582.
Maine,
history of, under the Conqueror, i. 203;
dissatisfaction in, under Robert, i. 204;
alleged derivation of its name, i. 205;
submits to Robert, i. 209;
stipulation about, in the treaty of Caen, i. 277, ii. 524;
men of, send for Hugh son of Azo as their ruler, ii. 195;
revolts against Robert, ii. 197;
peace of, under Helias, ii. 204;
cession of, demanded by William Rufus, ii. 208;
his designs on, ii. 213;
attacked by Robert of Bellême, _ib._;
geographical character of the war, ii. 214;
beginning of the war of William Rufus in, ii. 167, 215;
castles of Robert of Bellême in, ii. 216;
teaching of its landscapes, ii. 219;
castles of, ii. 219-221;
contrasted with England, ii. 220;
general submission of, to William Rufus, ii. 241;
extent of his conquests in, ii. 245;
southern part harried by Rufus, ii. 288;
no bribery in, ii. 290;
later fortune of, ii. 374.
Malchus, Bishop of Waterford, consecrated by Anselm, i. 544.
Malcolm III., King of Scots,
invades Northumberland, i. 295;
driven back, i. 296;
his relations with Robert, i. 297;
meets William Rufus at _Scots’ Water_, i. 301;
negotiates with him through Robert, i. 302;
two versions of the negotiations, i. 302-304, ii. 540-545;
his alleged homage to Robert, i. 302, ii. 542;
question as to his earlier betrothal to Margaret, i. 303,
ii. 542;
as to the homage for Lothian, i. 303, ii. 541 et seq.;
does homage to Rufus, i. 304, ii. 541;
his correspondence with Wulfstan, i. 479;
his complaints against Rufus, ii. 8;
summoned to Gloucester, ii. 9, 590;
lays one of the foundation-stones of Durham Abbey, ii. 11;
much of his dominions in Durham diocese, ii. 12;
Rufus refuses to see him at Gloucester, i. 410, ii. 13, 590;
dispute between them, ii. 13;
returns to Scotland, ii. 14;
invades England, ii. 15, 592;
English feeling towards, ii. 16, 595;
slain at Alnwick, i. 410, ii. 5, 16, 592;
alleged treachery towards him, ii. 16, 592 et seq.;
his burial at Tynemouth, ii. 17;
translated to Dunfermline, ii. 18;
local estimate of his death, ii. 19;
his devotion to Margaret, ii. 20;
acts as her interpreter, ii. 23;
his visit to Romsey, ii. 31, 600;
what languages he spoke, ii. 591.
Malling, Gundulf’s tower at, i. 70.
Malpeter, Mormaor of Mærne, ii. 36.
_Malvoisin_, towers so called, use of, ii. 51, 435, 520, 608.
Mamers, castle of, ii. 216, 217.
Man,
the centre of Godred Crouan’s dominion, ii. 136;
civil war in, ii. 138;
occupied by Magnus, ii. 141, 619;
his designs with regard to, ii. 142, 620;
his castle-building in, ii. 442.
Manorbeer Castle, birthplace of Giraldus, ii. 95.
Mantes,
granted to Lewis by Philip, ii. 175;
claimed by William Rufus, ii. 176.
Margam Abbey, ii. 89.
Margaret, daughter of Eadward,
question as to her earlier betrothal to Malcolm, i. 303, ii. 542;
her correspondence with Wulfstan, i. 479;
her character, ii. 20;
her influence on Malcolm, ii. 20, 23;
her education of their children, ii. 21;
her reforms, ii. 22;
increases the pomp of the Scottish court, ii. 23;
Scottish feeling towards, ii. 25, 28, 597;
hears of her husband’s death, ii. 26, 592, 594;
versions of her death, ii. 26-28;
her burial at Dunfermline, ii. 28, 597.
Margaret of Mortagne, wife of Henry of Warwick, ii. 348.
Marriage, lord’s right of,
growth of, under Rufus, i. 336;
peculiar to England and Normandy, i. 340;
restrained by the charter of Henry I, ii. 353.
Mary, daughter of Malcolm,
brought up in Romsey Abbey, ii. 31, 598;
marries Eustace of Boulogne, ii. 31.
Matilda of Flanders, Queen,
lands of, claimed by Henry, i. 195, 197;
they are granted to Robert Fitz-hamon, i. 198.
Matilda, or Eadgyth, Queen, wife of Henry I,
her sojourn at Romsey, ii. 31, 599;
her relations with Henry, _ib._;
tale of her and William Rufus, ii. 32, 600;
sought in marriage by Alan of Richmond, ii. 602;
sought in marriage by Henry, ii. 31, 382;
her beauty and learning, ii. 382;
policy of the marriage, ii. 383;
wishes to appoint Eadwulf abbot of Malmesbury, ii. 383 (_note_);
objections to the marriage, ii. 384, 683;
appeals to Anselm, _ib._;
declared free to marry, ii. 385;
other versions of the story, ii. 385-387, 683 et seq.;
later fables about her marriage, ii. 387, 684, 685;
her marriage and coronation, ii. 387, 388;
takes the name of Matilda, ii. 305, 388;
her nickname of _Godgifu_, ii. 389;
her children, _ib._;
her character, ii. 390;
known as “good Queen Mold,” ii. 391;
Robert’s generosity to her, ii. 406;
baptized by the name of Eadgyth, ii. 598;
god-daughter of Duke Robert, ii. 602.
Matilda, Empress, daughter of Henry I and Matilda, ii. 389.
Matilda, wife of Stephen, and granddaughter of Malcolm, ii. 31.
Matilda, Abbess of Caen, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 579.
Matilda, Countess of Perche, natural daughter of Henry the First,
ii. 379.
Matilda, wife of Helias of La Flèche, ii. 196.
Matilda of Laigle,
marries Robert of Mowbray, i. 243 (_note_), ii. 38;
holds out at Bamburgh, ii. 54, 609;
yields to save her husband’s eyes, ii. 54;
her second marriage and divorce, ii. 55, 612.
Matilda, wife of William of Bellême, signs the foundation-charter
of Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.
Matilda, daughter of Waltheof, marries David of Scotland, ii. 124.
Matilda of Wallingford, her foundation at Oakburn, i. 376 (_note_).
Matthew, Count of Beaumont, helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519.
Matthew Paris, his version of the accession of William Rufus,
ii. 461.
Maule, fortress of, ii. 251, 253.
Maurice, Bishop of London,
his dispute with Anselm, i. 440;
crowns Henry I, ii. 350, 681;
his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
false story of his approaching death brought to Flambard, ii. 560.
Mayet Castle, ii. 196;
strengthened by Helias, ii. 275;
siege of, ii. 289-294, 652;
raising of the siege, ii. 294, 653;
description of, ii. 652.
Mediolanum. _See_ Evreux.
Mercenaries,
employment of under William Rufus, i. 134, 153, 226, ii. 496;
their presence tends to promote the fusion of English and
Normans, i. 134;
their wrong-doings, i. 154, ii. 498;
statute of Henry I against, _ib._
Meredydd, son of Bleddyn,
becomes the man of Robert of Bellême, ii. 424;
his action on his behalf, ii. 442.
Merewine of Chester-le-Street, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Meulan, importance of its position, ii. 183.
Mevania. _See_ Anglesey.
Milford Haven, ii. 95.
Mona. _See_ Anglesey.
Monacledin, Duncan slain at, ii. 36 (_note_).
_Monarches_, use of the title, ii. 484.
Montacute (near Saint Cenery), castle of, besieged by Duke Robert
and destroyed, i. 469 (_note_).
Montacute Priory, ii. 120.
Mont Barbé, castle of, at Le Mans, i. 239, 361.
Montbizot, ii. 232.
Mont-de-la-Nue, castle of, ii. 216.
Montfort l’Amaury,
fortress of, ii. 251, 253;
church of, ii. 254;
defended by the younger Simon, _ib._
Montgomery (in Wales),
castle of, ii. 77;
taken by the Welsh, ii. 104.
Morel,
slays Malcolm, ii. 16, 593;
plunders Norwegian ships, ii. 40;
holds out at Bamburgh, ii. 54, 610;
turns king’s-evidence, ii. 55;
his end, ii. 69;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Moreldene, ii. 17.
Morgan, son of Jestin, ii. 81 (_note_).
Morganwg,
distinguished from Glamorgan, ii. 85;
conquest of, _see_ Glamorgan.
Morkere, son of Ælfgar,
re-imprisoned by William, i. 13, 14;
his signature to a charter of William of Saint-Calais, i. 14
(_note_).
Moses of Canterbury, ii. 573.
Motte de Gauthier-le-Clincamp, castle of, ii. 216.
Mowbray Castle, granted to Nigel of Albini, ii. 612.
Murtagh, Muirchertach, or Murchard,
calls himself king of Ireland, i. 544;
Anselm’s letters to, i. 545 (_note_), ii. 581;
his answer to the threat of William Rufus, ii. 94;
drives Godred Crouan out of Dublin, ii. 137;
sends Donald to the Sudereys, _ib._;
his dealings with Magnus of Norway, ii. 146, 622, 624;
marries his daughter to Sigurd, ii. 136, 146, 443, 622;
Arnulf of Montgomery’s dealings with, ii. 425, 426, 442.
Mutilation, feeling with regard to, i. 548 (_note_), ii. 64.
N.
Neath, borough and abbey of, ii. 88, 89.
Neauphlé-le-Château, ii. 251;
defended by the elder Simon of Montfort, ii. 253.
Nest, wife of Bernard of Newmarch,
her descent, ii. 90;
her faithlessness to her husband, ii. 91;
her grant to Battle Abbey, ii. 91 (_note_).
Nest,
wife of Gerald of Windsor, ii. 97, 110 (_note_);
her relations with Henry I, ii. 97, 110 (_note_), 379.
Nest, daughter of Jestin, marries Einion, ii. 80.
Neufchâtel-en-Bray, i. 236 (_note_).
Neuilly, Robert of Bellême imprisoned at, i. 199.
Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
defended by Robert of Mowbray, ii. 46;
taken by William Rufus, ii. 47, 607.
New Forest,
its supposed connexion with the Saxon colony at Carlisle, i. 316,
ii. 550;
death of Richard son of Duke Robert there, ii. 316;
various versions of the death of William Rufus in, ii. 325 et seq.
Nicolas, Bishop of Llandaff, his charter, ii. 84 (_note_).
Nidaros. _See_ Trondhjem.
Nigel of Albini,
his marriages, ii. 55, 612;
Mowbray Castle granted to, ii. 612.
_Nithing_ Proclamation of William, i. 78.
Nivard of Septeuil, ii. 252.
Nomenclature of Wales compared with that of England, ii. 75.
Nomenclature, personal, illustrations of, ii. 489, 551, 577.
Norham Castle, founded by Flambard, ii. 272.
Norman Conquest,
at once completed and undone under Rufus and under Henry I,
i. 3, 7, 130, ii. 456;
England reconciled to it by Henry I, ii. 456;
compared with that of Wales, ii. 72.
Norman nobles,
revolt against William Rufus, i. 22 et seq., ii. 465 et seq.;
refuse to attend the Easter Gemôt, i. 32;
amnesty granted to, by Rufus, i. 88;
accepted as Englishmen, i. 132;
some loyal to Rufus, i. 62;
second revolt of, ii. 37.
Normandy,
chief seat of warfare in the reign of Rufus, i. 178;
contrasted with England, _ib._;
temptations for the invasion of Rufus, i. 188;
under Robert, i. 189, 190;
spread of vice in, i. 192;
building of castles in, _ib._;
its rivalry with France, i. 201;
Rufus’s invasion of, agreed to by the Witan, i. 222-224;
its relations with England and France, i. 240;
private wars in, i. 241-244;
Orderic’s picture of, i. 271;
Rufus crosses over to, i. 273;
compared with England, i. 468;
her share in the first crusade, i. 547;
pledged to Rufus by Robert, i. 555;
Rufus takes possession of, i. 566;
his rule in, i. 567, 569, 570;
renewed anarchy in, on his death, ii. 366.
Normannus. _See_ Northman.
Normans and English,
fusion of, i. 130, 134, ii. 401, 455;
use of the words, ii. 649.
Northallerton, church of, granted to the monks of Durham, i. 535.
Northampton,
architectural arrangements of the castle, i. 601;
constitution of the Council of 1164, i. 602.
Northman, monk of Christ Church, i. 140 (_note_).
Northumberland, invaded by Malcolm, i. 296.
Norwich, see of Thetford moved to, i. 449; ii. 569.
O.
Oakburn, a cell of Bec, i. 376 (_note_).
Odo, Bishop of Bayeux,
restored to his earldom, i. 19, ii. 467;
his discontent and intrigues, i. 23, 24, ii. 465;
his hatred towards Lanfranc, i. 24, 53 (_note_);
his harangue against William Rufus, i. 26, ii. 466;
his ravages in Kent, i. 52;
occupies Rochester Castle, i. 55;
invites Robert over, i. 56;
hated by the English, i. 67, 86;
moves to Pevensey, i. 70;
besieged therein by Rufus, i. 72-76;
surrenders on favourable terms, i. 76;
his treachery at Rochester, i. 77;
besieged therein, i. 79;
agrees to surrender, i. 80;
Rufus refuses his terms, i. 81;
pleadings made for, i. 83;
terms granted to, by Rufus, i. 85;
his humiliation and banishment, i. 85-87;
his influence with Duke Robert, i. 199;
his exhortation to him, i. 200;
marches with him into Maine, i. 208;
his further schemes, i. 211;
goes on the first crusade, i. 560;
his death and tomb at Palermo, i. 563, 571, ii. 307;
said to have married Philip and Bertrada, ii. 172.
Odo, Abbot of Chertsey,
resigns his abbey, i. 350;
restored by Henry, _ib._
Odo of Champagne, lord of Holderness,
part of the lands of the see of Durham granted to, i. 90;
his agreement with the Bishop, i. 93;
intervenes on his behalf, i. 109, 117, 120;
confiscation of his lands, ii. 66.
Odo, Duke of Burgundy, his alleged scheme against Anselm, i. 606.
Ogmore Castle, ii. 86.
Olaf, Saint, legend of him and Magnus, ii. 139.
Olaf, son of Godred Crouan, ii. 137, 623.
Oldbury, ii. 155.
Omens, William Rufus sneers at the English regard for, ii. 330.
Ordeal,
contempt of William Rufus for, i. 157, 165;
Eadmer’s belief in, i. 166 (_note_).
Orderic,
writes Robert of Rhuddlan’s epitaph, i. 128;
his picture of Normandy, i. 271;
dictates his writings, i. 272 (_note_);
his account of the expedition of Magnus, ii. 142;
the only writer who mentions Eadgyth-Matilda’s change of name,
ii. 687.
Ordgar,
his charge against Eadgar Ætheling, ii. 115, 617;
story of his duel with Godwine, ii. 115-117, 617;
estimate of the story, ii. 117, 615;
notices of, in Domesday, ii. 616.
Ordwine, monk, Anselm’s letters to, ii. 579.
Orkneys, invaded by Magnus, ii. 140.
Orm, priest, signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Orm’s Head, the, origin of the name, i. 123 (_note_).
Orricus de Stanton, ii. 555.
Osbern, monk of Bec, various bearers of the name, i. 374 (_note_).
Osbern, brother of Flambard, ii. 551.
Osbern of Orgères, companion of Robert of Rhuddlan, i. 126.
Osbern of Richard’s Castle, rebels against William Rufus, i. 33.
Osgod Clapa, his irreverence towards Saint Eadmund, ii. 268.
Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury,
sent with a summons to Bishop William, i. 116;
consecrates his cathedral, i. 309;
helps at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
absolved by Anselm for his conduct at Rockingham, i. 533;
Anselm confers with him at Winchester, i. 586;
receives William of Alderi’s confession, ii. 68;
not present at his hanging, _ib._;
his death, i. 351, ii. 302;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Oswald, Saint, King of the Northumbrians,
rebuilds the church of Tynemouth, ii. 17, 604;
his relic at Bamburgh, ii. 49, 608.
Oswine, King of Deira,
his martyrdom, ii. 17;
invention of his relics, ii. 18, 603;
his translation, ii. 18, 606.
Outillé Castle,
strengthened by Helias, ii. 275;
burned by him, ii. 288.
Owen, son of Edwin, ii. 424.
Oystermouth Castle, ii. 103.
P.
Padua, siege of, i. 173 (_note_).
Pagan or Theobald,
fortifies Gisors, ii. 186;
taken prisoner by Lewis, ii. 186 (_note_), 190;
Gisors restored to, ii. 396.
Pagan of Montdoubleau,
holds Ballon against Duke Robert, i. 209;
Orderic’s tale of his forsaking Saint Cenery, i. 469 (_note_);
betrays Ballon to William Rufus, ii. 235.
Pagan of Turberville,
holds Coyty, ii. 87;
joins the Welsh, ii. 104.
Palermo, death and tomb of Odo of Bayeux at, i. 563, 571, ii. 307.
Palgrave, Sir F.,
on chivalry, ii. 508;
his condemnation of the crusades, ii. 509;
on the alleged Domesday of Randolf Flambard, ii. 562-564;
his belief in the legend about Purkis, ii. 679.
Pallium,
elder usage as to, i. 482;
not needful for the validity of archiepiscopal acts, i. 483.
Papacy, English feeling as to the schism in, i. 415.
Paschal II., Pope,
speech of William Rufus on his election, i. 623;
Anselm’s letters to, ii. 582.
Paul, Abbot of Saint Alban’s,
Anselm’s friendship with, i. 424;
his death, i. 424, ii. 18.
Paul, Earl of Orkney,
taken prisoner by Magnus, ii. 140;
his death in Norway, ii. 140, 581.
Paula, mother of Helias of La Flèche, ii. 196.
Peckham manor,
mortgaged by Anselm to the monks of Christ Church, i. 559;
kept by the monks, i. 596.
Peers, their right of trial, i. 604 (_note_).
Pembroke Castle,
description of, ii. 96;
begun by Arnulf of Montgomery, _ib._;
later castle, _ib._;
defended by Gerald of Windsor, ii. 101, 108;
surrendered to Henry I by Arnulf, ii. 450 (_note_);
grant of, by Henry I, ii. 451.
Pembrokeshire,
Flemish settlement in, ii. 70 (_note_), 74, 88, 615;
building of castles in, ii. 93;
military character of its buildings, ii. 96.
Penmon Priory, ii. 129, 130 (_note_).
Penrice Castle, ii. 103.
Percy, house of, beginning of its connexion with Alnwick, ii. 15, 596.
Perray, castle of, ii. 216.
Peter of Maule, ii. 252.
Peterborough, monks of, buy a _congé d’élire_ of Rufus, i. 352.
Pevensey,
held by Robert of Mortain, i. 53, 62;
Odo moves to, i. 70;
castle of, i. 72;
besieged by William Rufus, i. 73-76;
attempted landing of the Normans at, i. 74, ii. 468, 481;
surrenders, i. 76;
Henry I gathers his fleet at, ii. 404.
Philip I of France,
marches with Robert against Eu, i. 238;
bought off by William Rufus, i. 239;
historical importance of this bribe, _ib._;
mediates between William Rufus and Robert, i. 275, ii. 522;
helps Robert against William, i. 463;
returns to France, i. 464;
bought off by William, i. 466;
his position compared with that of Helias of Maine, ii. 169;
rebuked by Bishop Ivo of Chartres, i. 559 (_note_);
puts away his first wife, ii. 171;
seeks Emma of Sicily in marriage, ii. 171 (_note_);
his adulterous marriage with Bertrada of Montfort, i. 548,
ii. 171, 172;
denounced by Hugh of Lyons, ii. 173;
his excommunication, i. 549, ii. 173;
his pretended divorce, ii. 173 (_note_);
his sons by Bertrada, ii. 174;
grants the Vexin to Lewis, ii. 175;
his letter to Anselm, ii. 580.
Philip, son of Philip and Bertrada, ii. 174.
Philip of Braose, supports William Rufus, i. 472.
Philip, son of Roger of Montgomery,
goes on the first crusade, i. 552;
conspires against William Rufus, ii. 38;
signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Piacenza,
Council of, i. 522, 545;
no mention of English affairs at, i. 522.
Pipe Rolls, notices of nomenclature in, ii. 551.
Poix, lordship of Walter Tirel, ii. 673.
Ponthieu, acquired by Robert of Bellême, ii. 423.
Pontlieue, victory of Helias at, ii. 278.
Pontoise,
granted to Lewis by Philip, ii. 175;
claimed by William Rufus, ii. 176;
withstands William Rufus, ii. 185;
castle and town of, ii. 247;
the furthest point in the French campaign of William Rufus,
ii. 248.
Pope,
William of Saint-Calais appeals to, i. 103, 109;
first appeal made to, i. 119;
not to be acknowledged without the king’s consent, i. 414;
Anselm insists on the acknowledgement, i. 416;
question left unsettled, i. 424;
no reference to, in the case of English episcopal appointments,
i. 425;
position of England towards, i. 496.
Porchester,
Duke Robert lands at, ii. 405;
church and castle of, ii. 406 (_note_).
Powys, advance of Earl Roger in, ii. 97.
Prisoners, ransom of, i. 464.
Purkis, the charcoal-burner, legend of, ii. 679.
Q.
Quatford,
Danish fortification at, ii. 152;
castle of, ii. 153;
Earl Roger’s buildings at, ii. 154;
legend of the foundation of the church, ii. 154 (_note_).
R.
Radegund, wife of Robert of Geroy, i. 469 (_note_).
Radnor, ii. 77.
Ralph Luffa,
Bishop of Chichester, i. 353;
at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
whether a mediator between Henry I and the garrison of Arundel,
ii. 430 (_note_).
Ralph, Bishop of Coutances, at the consecration of the church of
Battle, i. 444.
Ralph, Abbot of Seez, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury,
driven out by Robert of Bellême, i. 184, 242;
his alleged share in the surrender of Arundel, ii. 430 (_note_).
Ralph of Aix, death of William Rufus attributed to, ii. 325, 334, 663.
Ralph of Fresnay and Beaumont,
truce granted to, by William Rufus, ii. 230;
estimate of his conduct, ii. 231;
submits to William Rufus, ii. 241.
Ralph of Mortemer,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;
submits to him, i. 231.
Ralph Paganel, Sheriff of Yorkshire,
his treatment of William of Saint-Calais, i. 31;
founds Holy Trinity Priory, York, _ib._;
his action in regard to Bishop William’s lands, i. 90;
at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 111.
Ralph of Toesny, or Conches,
drives out the ducal forces, i. 193;
joins Robert’s expedition into Maine, i. 209;
his feud with William of Evreux, i. 231, 233, 245;
asks help in vain from Duke Robert, i. 234;
submits to Rufus, _ib._;
his treaties with William of Evreux, i. 267, 270;
wars against Robert of Meulan, i. 270;
supports William Rufus in his second invasion, i. 472;
his death, i. 270;
entertains William Rufus, ii. 246.
Ralph of Toesny, the younger, i. 233, 271.
Ralph of Wacey, his nickname, ii. 193.
Ralph of Wader, goes on the first crusade, i. 552.
Rama, siege of, ii. 117 (_note_), 122.
Randolf Flambard, Bishop of Durham,
feudal developement under, i. 4;
his early history, i. 329, ii. 551;
said to have been Dean of Twinham, i. 330, ii. 553;
his parents, i. 331;
origin of his surname, i. 331, ii. 555;
his financial skill, i. 331;
his probable share in Domesday, i. 331, ii. 552;
his alleged new Domesday, i. 332, ii. 562;
Justiciar, i. 333, ii. 557;
his loss of land for the New Forest, i. 333;
his systematic changes and exactions, i. 333, 339, 346, 348;
his alleged spoliation of the rich, i. 334, 341;
systematizes the feudal tenures, i. 336 et seq.;
his theory of land tenure, i. 337;
extent of his changes, i. 340;
the law-giver of English feudalism, i. 341;
suggests the holding of the revenues of vacant sees, i. 345 et
seq., ii. 564;
his action in keeping the see of Canterbury vacant, i. 363
(_note_);
his suit against Anselm, i. 428;
attacks and imprisons Robert son of Godwine, ii. 121;
King Eadgar’s action towards, _ib._;
his exactions, ii. 256;
joint regent with Bishop Walkelin, ii. 266;
see of Durham granted to, ii. 271;
his consecration, _ib._;
character of the appointment, ii. 272;
his buildings at Durham, ii. 60, 272;
founds Norham Castle, _ib._;
his personal character, ii. 273;
his penitent end, ii. 274;
his dealings with Saint Alban’s Abbey, ii. 359 (_note_);
imprisoned by Henry, ii. 361;
his escape, ii. 397;
adventures of his mother, ii. 398;
stirs Duke Robert up against Henry, _ib._;
said to have brought about desertions to Duke Robert, ii. 404;
receives the revenues of the see of Lisieux under cover of his
son, ii. 416;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536;
entries about, in Domesday, ii. 553;
his official position, ii. 557;
story of the attempt on his life, ii. 560;
his measurement by the rope, ii. 563.
Randolf Meschines, Earl of Chester, grant of the earldom of Carlisle
to, ii. 549.
Randolf Peverel, ii. 485.
Randolf, his encounter with Saint Eadmund, ii. 269.
Ransom, growth of the custom, i. 464.
Rapes, in Sussex, origin of the name, ii. 564.
Raymond, Count of Toulouse, refuses to do homage to Alexios, i. 564
(_note_).
Redemption of land,
as devised by Flambard, i. 337;
as reformed by Henry I, i. 338, 353.
Reginald, Abbot of Abingdon,
said to have helped in distributing the Conqueror’s treasure,
ii. 265 (_note_);
his death, ii. 265 (_note_), 381 (_note_).
Reginald of Saint Evroul, adorns Robert of Rhuddlan’s tomb, i. 128.
Reginald of Warren, comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249, 253.
Reingar, Bishop of Lucca, his protest in favour of Anselm, i. 622.
Relief,
Flambard’s theory as to, i. 337, 338;
enforced by Henry’s charter, i. 338, ii. 353.
Remigius, Bishop of Lincoln,
denounces the slave trade, i. 310;
completes the minster, _ib._;
his dispute with Thomas of York, i. 311;
wins over William Rufus, _ib._;
his death, i. 312;
alleged miracles at his tomb, i. 312 (_note_);
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Rémusat, Charles de, his Life of Anselm, i. 325 (_note_).
Rhuddlan,
attacked by Gruffydd, i. 122;
castle of, ii. 77.
Rhyd-y-gors Castle,
built by William Rufus, ii. 97;
defence of, ii. 101;
gained by the Welsh, ii. 106.
Rhys ap Tewdwr, King of Deheubarth,
driven from and restored to his kingdom, i. 121;
his attack on Rhuddlan Castle, i. 122, ii. 78;
his defeat and death at Brecknock, ii. 91;
effect of his death, ii. 92.
Rhys ap Thomas, Sir, ii. 95 (_note_).
Richard I, compared with William Rufus, i. 290.
Richard II., recasts Westminster Hall, ii. 262.
Richard the Good, Duke of the Normans, i. 169.
Richard, son of Duke Robert, his death, ii. 316.
Richard,
son of Henry I and Ansfrida, ii. 314, 380;
dies in the White Ship, ii. 381.
Richard, Abbot of Saint Alban’s, ii. 166.
Richard, Abbot of Ely,
his appointment, ii. 360;
removed by Anselm, _ib._
Richard of Courcy,
besieged by Duke Robert and Robert of Bellême, i. 274;
supports William Rufus, i. 472.
Richard of Montfort, his death before Conches, i. 266.
Richard of Redvers,
supports Henry, i. 221;
surrenders to William Rufus, i. 283;
joins Henry, i. 320;
one of Henry’s inner council, ii. 362;
his loyalty to Henry, ii. 399;
granted to Henry by Robert, ii. 513.
Richard Siward, ii. 86.
Richard Tisone, ii. 596.
Richer of Laigle, i. 243 (_note_).
Richera (Richesa), sister of Anselm, his letters to, ii. 579.
Robert, Duke of the Normans,
assertion of his hereditary right, i. 11 (_note_), ii. 460;
releases Duncan and Wulf, i. 14;
his gifts for his father’s soul, i. 18;
compared with William Rufus, i. 20, 226;
arguments of the rebels in his favour, i. 24 et seq.;
invited to England by Odo, i. 56;
sends over Robert of Bellême and others, _ib._;
delays his coming, i. 71, 74;
his childish boasting, i. 71;
his promises to Odo, i. 72;
welcomes Bishop William, i. 117;
M. le Hardy’s apology for him, i. 175 (_note_);
William of Malmesbury’s estimate of him, _ib._;
character of his reign foretold by his father, i. 189;
anarchy under him, i. 190, 191;
his character, i. 190, 298, ii. 393;
spread of vice under him, i. 192;
his lavish waste, i. 195;
sells the Côtentin and Avranchin to Henry, i. 196, ii. 510-516;
imprisons Henry and Robert of Bellême, i. 199;
Earl Roger makes war on him, _ib._;
Odo’s exhortation to him, i. 200;
does homage to Fulk of Anjou for Maine, i. 204;
Maine submits to him, i. 209;
Ballon surrenders to him, i. 210;
besieges Saint Cenery, i. 211;
blinds Robert Carrel, i. 216;
grants Saint Cenery to Robert, grandson of Geroy, i. 217;
Alençon and Bellême surrender to him, i. 218;
frees Robert of Bellême and Henry, i. 220;
asks King Philip to help him against William, i. 237;
suspects the loyalty of Maine, ii. 191;
asks help of Fulk of Anjou, ii. 192;
bargains for the marriage of Fulk and Bertrada, ii. 193, 194;
Maine revolts again, ii. 197;
his carelessness as to his loss, ii. 200;
cleaves to his rights over the bishopric, _ib._;
marches on Eu, i. 238;
a party in Rouen in his favour, i. 248;
Henry and Robert of Bellême come to his help, _ib._;
sent away from Rouen by Henry, i. 255;
is brought back, i. 260;
his treatment of the citizens, _ib._;
helps Robert of Bellême in his private wars, i. 273;
his treaty with William, i. 275-281, ii. 522, 528;
marches against Henry, i. 283;
besieges Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 285-292, ii. 528-535;
story of his clemency towards Henry, i. 291, ii. 534;
accompanies William to England, i. 295, 297;
his relations with Malcolm, i. 297, ii. 541 et seq.;
mediates between William and Malcolm, i. 301;
former homage of Malcolm to him, i. 302, ii. 542;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
his fresh dispute with William, i. 306;
leaves England, i. 307;
Henry wars against him, i. 321;
consents to Anselm’s acceptance of the primacy, i. 406;
his challenges to William, i. 435, 436;
his meeting with him, i. 461;
calls on Philip for help, i. 463;
takes La Houlme, i. 465;
besieges Montacute, i. 469 (_note_);
Henry again wars against him, i. 470;
his eagerness to go on the crusade, i. 552;
forced to apply to William for help, i. 553;
Abbot Geronto mediates between them, i. 553-555;
pledges Normandy to William, i. 555, ii. 506;
his conference with William, i. 559;
sets forth, i. 560;
his conduct as a crusader, i. 560, 564, 565, 566, ii. 394;
blessed by Urban at Lucca, i. 561;
goes to Rome, _ib._;
welcomed by Roger of Apulia, _ib._;
crosses to Dyrrhachion, i. 563;
does homage to Alexios at Constantinople, i. 564;
his presence at Laodikeia and Jerusalem, i. 564, 565, ii. 300;
said to have refused the crown of Jerusalem, i. 566;
marries Sibyl of Conversana, ii. 312;
his reception in Southern Italy, _ib._;
returns to Normandy, i. 566, ii. 311, 367;
gives thanks at Saint Michael’s for his safe return, ii. 367;
his renewed misgovernment, ii. 367, 394;
his claims to the English throne, ii. 343, 344, 346;
supported by William of Breteuil and other Normans, ii. 346, 347;
Norman nobles intrigue with, against Henry I, ii. 366, 368;
beginning of his war with Henry, ii. 368;
his reply to the garrison of Le Mans, ii. 372;
plots on his behalf, ii. 395;
his grants and promises, _ib._;
his fleet, ii. 402;
desertions to, ii. 404, 409, 686;
lands at Portchester, ii. 405;
estimate of his conduct in not besieging Winchester, ii. 406;
meets Henry near Alton, ii. 409;
threatened with excommunication by Anselm, ii. 410;
negotiates with him, ii. 412;
personal meeting and treaty between the brothers, ii. 412-415,
538, 688-691;
returns to Normandy, ii. 414;
Henry negotiates with him, against Robert of Bellême, ii. 426;
besieges Vignats, _ib._;
said to have stood godfather to Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 602.
Robert, Bishop of Hereford,
foretells the death of Remigius, i. 312;
receives Wulfstan’s confession, i. 479;
Wulfstan appears to him, i. 480;
absolved by Anselm for his conduct at Rockingham, i. 533;
Wulfstan appears to him again, _ib._ and _note_;
his death, i. 535.
Robert Bloet, Bishop of Lincoln,
accompanies William Rufus to England, i. 13;
his appointment, i. 395, ii. 584;
his character and offices, i. 395, 447, ii. 584 et seq.;
Thomas of York claims the right to consecrate him, i. 433;
consecrated by Anselm, i. 445-447;
bribes Rufus, i. 446;
his death, i. 448, ii. 587;
local legends about, i. 448, ii. 586;
said to have besieged Tickhill, ii. 431;
signs the Durham charter, ii. 536;
not in good favour with monks, ii. 585;
his son Simon, ii. 586;
meaning of his name, ii. 588.
Robert, Bishop of Bath, restores the canons of Wells, ii. 487.
Robert Losinga, Abbot of New Minster,
the abbey bought for him by his son, i. 355;
his death, ii. 265 (_note_), 267.
Robert, Abbot of Saint Eadmund’s,
his appointment, ii. 359;
removed by Anselm, ii. 360.
Robert of Bellême,
sent over to England by Duke Robert, i. 57, ii. 465 et seq.;
agrees to surrender Rochester, i. 80;
pleadings made for him, i. 84;
his history and greatness, i. 179, 180;
his character, i. 181;
his cruelty and enmities, i. 182-184, ii. 151, 222;
drives out the ducal garrisons, i. 193, 201;
sent against Rufus by Robert, i. 57;
returns to Normandy and is imprisoned, i. 199, 219;
exhortation of Odo against him, i. 201;
released at his father’s prayer, i. 219, 220;
his subsequent action, i. 242;
drives away Abbot Ralph of Seez, i. 184, 242;
comes to the help of Duke Robert, i. 248;
helped by Robert against his neighbours, i. 273, 274;
his oppression at Domfront, i. 319;
succeeds to the Norman estates of his father, i. 180, 473;
to his English estates, i. 180, ii. 148;
men of Domfront revolt against, i. 319;
his action in Wales, ii. 113;
extent of his estates, ii. 148, 163;
his position on the continent and in England, ii. 149, 150;
compared with the Counts of Mortain, ii. 149, and with Hugh of
Chester, ii. 150;
his oppression, ii. 151;
his skill in castle-building, _ib._;
his defences in Shropshire, ii. 152;
removes from Quatford to Bridgenorth, ii. 155;
builds Careghova Castle, ii. 158;
his Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire estates, ii. 159;
lands of Roger of Bully granted to, ii. 162;
strengthens Gisors Castle, ii. 187;
attacks Maine, ii. 213;
stirs up William Rufus to war, ii. 215;
carries it on, ii. 216;
his nickname of “Robert the Devil,” ii. 216, 219;
his castles in Maine, ii. 216;
wrong and sacrilege done by him, ii. 221, 222;
defeated by Helias, ii. 222, 223;
takes Helias prisoner, ii. 224;
contrasted with William Rufus, _ib._;
occupies and strengthens Ballon Castle, ii. 235, 282;
story of him at the siege of Mayet, ii. 291;
hastens to acknowledge Henry I as king, ii. 362;
calls himself the “man” of Helias, ii. 373 (_note_);
plots against Henry, ii. 395;
Duke Robert’s grants to, _ib._;
deserts from Henry, ii. 409;
said to have negotiated between Henry and Robert, ii. 412;
charges brought against, ii. 421;
does not appear before the assembly, _ib._;
proclamation against, ii. 442;
again summoned, but refuses to come, _ib._;
greatness of his possessions, ii. 423;
his acquisition of Ponthieu, _ib._;
his Welsh and Irish allies, ii. 423-426;
strengthens his castles, ii. 428;
harries Staffordshire, ii. 429;
Henry’s faith pledged for his life, ii. 430, 438;
seizes the land of William Pantulf, ii. 434;
feeling in the army on his behalf, ii. 436;
his dealings wth Murtagh and with Magnus, ii. 442;
holds out at Shrewsbury, ii. 445;
his despair, ii. 446;
sues for peace, and submits, ii. 448;
his banishment, ii. 449;
joy at his overthrow, _ib._;
his later history, i. 184, ii. 450.
Robert Carrel,
holds Saint Cenery against Duke Robert, i. 215;
blinded by him, i. 216.
Robert of Conteville, i. 115.
Robert the Cornard, his device of pointed shoes, i. 159, ii. 502.
Robert of Courcy,
marries Rohesia of Grantmesnil, i. 273 (_note_);
wounded at Saônes, ii. 222.
Robert of Curzon, Saint Eadmund’s dealings with, ii. 269.
Robert the Dispenser,
signs the foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral, i. 309
(_note_);
invents the surname _Flambard_, i. 309 (_note_), 331.
Robert Count of Eu, submits to Rufus, i. 229.
Robert Fitz-hamon,
his loyalty to William Rufus, i. 62;
Matilda’s lands granted to, by Rufus, i. 198;
his foundation at Tewkesbury, i. 479;
story of him and Jestin, ii. 80;
estimate of the story, ii. 81, 614;
his conquest of Glamorgan and settlement at Cardiff, ii. 81,
84;
other notices of, ii. 82;
marries Earl Roger’s daughter, ii. 83;
his works at Gloucester and Tewkesbury, ii. 84;
said to have taken part against Rhys, ii. 91;
tells the monk’s dream to William Rufus, ii. 328;
legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338, 676;
signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366;
his loyalty to him, ii. 399;
said to have negotiated between Henry and Robert, ii. 412.
Robert Fitzharding, his probable origin, i. 46 (_note_).
Robert the Frisian, Count of Flanders,
his interview with William Rufus, i. 411;
his expedition to the East, _ib._;
his help to the Emperor Alexios, _ib._;
his death, _ib._
Robert of Jerusalem, Count of Flanders,
succeeds his father, i. 412;
goes on the first crusade, i. 551, 560;
Anselm’s letter to, ii. 581.
Robert, Earl of Gloucester,
natural son of Henry I, ii. 379, 414;
marries Mabel, daughter of Robert Fitz-hamon, ii. 83.
Robert, natural son of Henry I and Nest, ii. 379.
Robert Malet, his banishment, ii. 417.
Robert, Count of Meulan,
son of Roger of Beaumont, i. 184;
his possessions, i. 185;
his exploits at Senlac, _ib._;
his fame for wisdom, _ib._;
claims Ivry, i. 243;
his imprisonment and release, _ib._;
advises Rufus as to Anselm’s conditions, i. 417;
supports William Rufus, i. 472;
his description of Anselm, i. 511;
marries Isabel of Vermandois, i. 187 (_note_), 551;
his marriage denounced by Bishop Ivo of Chartres, i. 551 (_note_);
his answer to Anselm’s discourse, i. 591;
his policy towards William Rufus, ii. 182, 184;
receives his troops, ii. 182;
counsels William Rufus to reject Helias’s offer of service,
ii. 243, 641;
accompanies Henry to London, ii. 350, 680;
one of his councillors, i. 186, ii. 350, 362, 420;
does not sign Henry’s charter or letter to Anselm, ii. 366;
Norman raid against his lands, ii. 367;
his advice to Henry I, ii. 400;
his bargain with Ivo of Grantmesnil, ii. 418;
becomes Earl of Leicester, ii. 419;
his death, i. 187, 419;
his sons, _ib._;
his college at Leicester, ii. 420;
Anselm’s letters to him, ii. 580.
Robert, Earl of Leicester,
son of Robert of Meulan, i. 187, ii. 419;
founds Leicester Abbey, ii. 420.
Robert of Montfort,
repairs and holds Vaux-en-Belin for William Rufus, ii. 289;
his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
his treason to Duke Robert, ii. 427.
Robert, Count of Mortain,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 33, ii. 470;
holds Pevensey against him, i. 53, 62;
exhorted by Odo to hold out, i. 70;
besieged by William Rufus in Pevensey, i. 73, 76;
surrenders, i. 76.
Robert of Mowbray, Earl of Northumberland,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 35;
burns Bath, i. 41;
besieges Ilchester without success, i. 42, 44;
drives back Malcolm, i. 297;
his expedition against him, ii. 16, 592;
grants Tynemouth to Saint Alban’s, ii. 19, 605;
grounds for his conspiracy, ii. 37, 40;
marries Matilda of Laigle, ii. 38;
his second revolt against William Rufus, ii. 38, 43;
plunders Norwegian ships, ii. 40;
refuses redress, ii. 41;
summoned to the king’s court, _ib._;
demands a safe-conduct, ii. 42;
his open rebellion, ii. 42, 43;
defence and sieges of his fortresses, ii. 46;
holds Bamburgh against Rufus, ii. 50, 607;
his alleged despair, ii. 51;
his escape from Bamburgh, ii. 52, 609;
said to have been taken at Tynemouth, ii. 53, 610;
threatened with blinding, ii. 54, 610;
versions of his later history, ii. 54, 611.
Robert of Neville,
one of the defenders of Bridgenorth, ii. 433;
his negotiations with Henry I, ii. 440, 443.
Robert of Pontefract,
plots against Henry I, ii. 395;
his banishment, ii. 417.
Robert, Marquess of Rhuddlan,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;
attack made on his lands by Gruffydd, i. 122, 124;
his probable change of party, i. 123;
returns to North Wales, _ib._;
his death at Dwyganwy, i. 126;
buried at Chester, i. 127;
his gifts to Chester, i. 127 (_note_);
his connexion with Saint Evroul, _ib._;
translated thither, i. 128;
Orderic’s epitaph on, _ib._;
his lands in North Wales, ii. 77;
extension of his possessions, ii. 78.
Robert of Saint Alban’s, his apostasy, ii. 123.
Robert of Torigny, his Chronicle, i. 9 (_note_).
Robert of Veci, first lord of Alnwick, ii. 596.
Robert, son of Corbet,
one of the defenders of Bridgenorth, ii. 432;
notices of his estates in Domesday, ii. 433 (_note_);
his negotiations with Henry I, ii. 440, 443.
Robert,
son of Godwine, ii. 117 (_note_), 118;
his exploits in Scotland, ii. 118, 617;
King Eadgar’s gifts to, ii. 121;
attacked and imprisoned by Randolf Flambard, _ib._;
goes on the crusade, ii. 122, 617;
his exploits and martyrdom, _ib._;
modern parallels and contrasts with, ii. 123;
notices of, in Fordun and William of Malmesbury, ii. 616, 617.
Robert, son of Harding, i. 45 (_note_).
Robert, son of Hugh of Montfort, sent to occupy the fortresses of
Le Mans, ii. 239.
Robert, son of Nigel and Gundrada, founder of Byland Abbey, ii. 612.
Robert, son of Geroy, his rebellion and death, i. 214.
Robert, grandson of Geroy,
Saint Cenery granted to, i. 217;
loses the castle, i. 469;
Henry Ætheling comes to his help against Robert of Bellême, _ib._
Robertson, E. W., on Malcolm’s homage to William Rufus, ii. 540.
Roche Guyon, La, castle of, ii. 180, 181.
Rochester,
its early history and position, i. 53, 54;
later sieges of, i. 53;
occupied by Odo, i. 55;
the garrison refuse to surrender to William Rufus, i. 77;
siege of, i. 79-85;
surrenders, i. 85;
benefactions of Rufus to the church, ii. 506.
Rockingham,
Council of (1095), i. 487 et seq.;
position and history of the place, i. 489, 490;
the castle, i. 490;
importance of the council, i. 519;
its constitution, i. 602.
Roger, Count of Sicily,
legatine power granted to, i. 525 (_note_);
marriage of his daughter, i. 526;
besieges Amalfi, i. 561, and Capua, i. 614;
forbids conversions of the Saracens, i. 161, 617;
contrasted with Henry I, ii. 454.
Roger, Duke of Apulia,
welcomes Duke Robert, i. 561;
besieges Amalfi, i. 562;
besieges Capua, i. 614;
receives Urban and Anselm in his camp, i. 615.
Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, possibly one of Henry’s inner council,
ii. 363.
Roger, Abbot of Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 284.
Roger of Beaumont,
father of Robert of Meulan, i. 184;
Brionne granted to, by Duke Robert, i. 194;
obtains the release of his son, i. 243;
his death, i. 472.
Roger Bigod,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 34;
his ravages, i. 36;
his action at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 98;
signs Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
his loyalty to Henry, ii. 399;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Roger of Bully,
greatness of his estates, ii. 159, 161;
founds the priory of Blyth, ii. 161;
his death, ii. 162;
his lands granted to Robert of Bellême, _ib._
Roger of Clare, with William Rufus in the New Forest, ii. 321.
Roger of Lacy,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 33;
seizes on Hereford, i. 46;
his second rebellion, ii. 39;
his trial and sentence, ii. 63.
Roger of Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 33, ii. 470;
his action in the rebellion, i. 47, 57;
his alleged presence before Worcester, ii. 481;
at Arundel, i. 58;
founds the priory of Saint Nicolas at Arundel, i. 59 (_note_);
won over by William, i. 61, ii. 462;
his action at the siege of Rochester, i. 80;
makes war on Duke Robert, i. 199;
his fortresses, i. 200;
obtains his son’s release, i. 219;
his advance in Powys, ii. 97;
his death, i. 473;
his buildings at Quatford, ii. 154;
his foundation at Wenlock, _ib._;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536.
Roger of Mowbray, son of Nigel and Gundrada, ii. 612.
Roger of Poitou, son of Earl Roger,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 57;
his agreement with Bishop William, i. 93;
intervenes on his behalf, i. 109, 117, 120;
holds Argentan for William Rufus, i. 463;
surrenders to Robert, i. 464;
plots against Henry I, ii. 395;
his share in the rebellion of Robert of Bellême, ii. 423;
his banishment, ii. 450.
Roger of Toesny, son of Ralph and Isabel,
county of Evreux settled on, i. 268;
his character, _ib._;
his dream, i. 269;
his death, i. 270.
Roger, son of Corbet, notices of, in Domesday, ii. 433 (_note_).
Rohais, wife of Richard of Clare, ii. 572.
Rohesia, daughter of Hugh of Grantmesnil, marries Robert of Courcy,
i. 273 (_note_).
_Romania_, use of the word, i. 564 (_note_).
Rome,
Pope Urban on the unhealthiness of, i. 367 (_note_);
treatment of Duke Robert at, i. 561.
Rope, measurement by, i. 68 (_note_), ii. 562, 564.
Rosella, daughter of Eadwine, ii. 603.
Rotrou of Montfort,
Orderic’s tale of his forsaking Saint Cenery, i. 469 (_note_);
truce granted to, by Rufus, ii. 230;
estimate of his conduct, ii. 231.
Rotrou, Count of Perche,
goes on the first crusade, i. 551;
imprisoned in the castle of Le Mans, ii. 373;
his mother gives the kiss of peace to Bishop Hildebert, ii. 373
(_note_).
Rouen,
municipal spirit in, i. 246;
the citizens favour William Rufus, i. 247;
Henry comes to Robert’s help at, i. 248;
its position in the eleventh century, i. 250;
ducal castles at, _ib._;
cathedral and other churches of, i. 252;
its gates and suburbs, i. 252, 253;
Robert sent away from, i. 255;
taken by Henry, i. 256;
treatment of the citizens, i. 260;
council held by William Rufus at, ii. 226.
Rouen,
synod of, i. 568;
small results of, i. 569.
Rualedus, story of his treatment by Henry, ii. 540.
Ruislip, Middlesex, said to have been a cell of Bec, i. 376 (_note_).
S.
Saer, holds Pembroke Castle, ii. 451.
Saint Alban’s,
Jews at, i. 160 (_note_);
the abbey granted to the see of Canterbury, i. 423;
four years’ vacancy of, i. 424;
grant of Tynemouth to, ii. 18, 605;
Flambard’s dealings with, ii. 359 (_note_).
Saint Augustine’s, Canterbury,
disturbances at, on Guy’s appointment, i. 139;
vengeance of William Rufus on, i. 140.
Saint Cenery, his relics, i. 213 (_note_).
Saint Cenery-le-Gerey,
castle besieged by Duke Robert, i. 211, 215;
the former monastery, i. 212;
foundation of the castle, i. 214;
seized by Mabel, i. 215;
surrenders to Robert, _ib._;
mutilation of its defenders, i. 216;
granted to Robert, grandson of Geroy, i. 217;
taken by Robert of Bellême, i. 469.
Saint David’s,
robbed by pirates, ii. 78;
tale of William Rufus’s visit to, ii. 93.
Saint Eadmundsbury,
Jews at, i. 160 (_note_);
church of, rebuilt by Abbot Baldwin, ii. 268;
William Rufus forbids the dedication, ii. 269.
Saint Evroul,
connexion of Robert of Rhuddlan with, i. 127;
his translation to, i. 128;
burial of Hugh of Grantmesnil at, i. 473.
Saint Gervase, Rouen, priory of, i. 252.
Saint James,
castle of, occupied by Henry, i. 321;
position and remains of, i. 321, 322;
granted to Earl Hugh, i. 323, ii. 540.
Saint Julian, translation of his body, ii. 204.
Saint Mary-le-bow, roof of the church blown down, i. 308, ii. 589.
Saint Michael’s Mount,
bought of Robert by Henry, i. 196;
cession of, demanded by William Rufus, i. 277, ii. 524;
buildings on, i. 284;
Henry besieged at, i. 284-292, ii. 528-535;
its position, i. 285;
later sieges of, i. 286;
surrenders to William, i. 292.
Saint Oswald’s, Worcester, granted to the see of York, i. 447.
Saint Ouen, Rouen, abbey of, i. 252.
Saint Remy-du-plain, castle of, ii. 216, 218.
Saint Saens, its position, i. 235.
Saint Stephen’s, Caen, gifts of Rufus to, i. 168, ii. 504-506.
Saint Tyfrydog, desecration of the church, ii. 131.
Saint Valery,
submits to Rufus, i. 227;
historical importance of the fact, i. 228.
Salisbury, assembly at (1096),
case of William of Saint-Calais heard at, i. 94 et seq.;
constitutional importance of, ii. 56, 57;
compared with that of 1086, ii. 58;
sentences passed at, ii. 62.
Salisbury Cathedral,
consecration of, i. 308;
fall of the tower roof, i. 309;
signatures to the foundation charter, i. 309 (_note_)
Samson, canon of Bayeux,
his appointment and consecration to the see of Worcester,
i. 542-544;
his great appetite, i. 543 (_note_);
consecrates Gloucester Abbey, ii. 317.
Samson, chaplain to the Conqueror, story of his refusing the
bishopric of Le Mans, i. 206.
Samuel, Bishop of Dublin, consecrated by Anselm, i. 544.
Sanctuary, right of, decree of the council of Clermont as to, i. 548
(_note_).
Sanford (Devonshire), held by Roger of Bully, ii. 160 (_note_).
Saônes,
castle of, ii. 216, 218;
Helias defeats Robert of Bellême at, ii. 222.
Saracens in Sicily,
compared with the Jews, i. 161;
Anselm’s dealings with, i. 616;
conversion of, forbidden by Duke Roger, i. 617;
in Spain, mentioned in the Chronicle, ii. 306.
Scandinavians,
in Cumberland, i. 315;
destroy Carlisle, _ib._
Schiavia, Anselm retires to, i. 615.
Scotland, kingdom of,
becomes English, ii. 5;
compared with Wales, ii. 6;
effects of the Cumbrian conquest on, ii. 8;
Margaret’s reforms in, ii. 23;
growth of English influence in, ii. 24-26;
party feeling in, on Malcolm’s death, ii. 28;
dealings of Magnus with, ii. 147;
English influence in, under David, ii. 125;
results of Eadgar’s succession, ii. 304.
Scotland, Abbot of Saint Augustine’s,
his death, i. 136;
disturbances consequent on, i. 139.
Seez, enmity of Robert of Bellême to its bishops and abbots, i. 183.
Seit, and others, letter of Anselm to, ii. 577.
Selby Abbey, granted to the see of York, i. 447.
Serlo,
Bishop of Seez, ii. 521;
excommunicates Robert of Bellême, i. 184.
Serlo, Abbot of Gloucester,
visits Wulfstan, i. 479;
his warning to William Rufus, ii. 318, 329.
Shoes, pointed, i. 158, ii. 502.
Shrewsbury,
burial of Earl Hugh at, ii. 145;
Robert of Bellême holds out in, ii. 445;
castle of, ii. 446;
Henry I marches against, ii. 446, 447;
surrender of, ii. 448, 457;
Gemóts held at, ii. 452;
earldom of, _ib._
Shropshire, defences of,
strengthened by Robert of Bellême, ii. 152;
early history of its fortresses, _ib._
Sibyl of Conversana,
marries Duke Robert of Normandy, ii. 312;
her character, _ib._;
tales of her death, ii. 312 (_note_);
called Edith, ii. 687.
Sibyl, daughter of Henry I, marries Alexander of Scotland, ii. 124.
Sibyl, daughter of Earl Roger, marries Robert Fitz-hamon, ii. 83.
Sicilian monarchy, the, i. 525.
Sicily,
its relations with England, i. 526;
under the Normans, ii. 306.
Siegfried, Bishop of Seez, signs the foundation charter of Lonlay
Abbey, ii. 539.
Signs and wonders, i. 176, ii. 246, 258, 302, 316.
Sigston, church of, granted to the monks of Durham, ii. 535.
Sigurd,
son of Magnus and Thora, ii. 133;
earldom of Orkney granted to, ii. 140;
his kingdom, ii. 146;
his Irish marriage, ii. 136, 146, 443, 622;
goes on the crusade, ii. 206.
Sillé, siege of, compared with the deliverance of Worcester, ii. 480.
Simeon, Abbot of Ely, ii. 359.
Simon, son of Robert Bloet, Dean of Lincoln, i. 448, ii. 586.
Simon of Montfort, the elder and the younger, ii. 190, 253, 254.
Simon of Montfort, Earl of Leicester,
his siege of Rochester, i. 53 (_note_);
his ancestry, ii. 253.
Simon of Senlis, Earl of Northampton,
taken prisoner by Lewis, ii. 190 (_note_);
his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358.
Simony, not systematic before Rufus, i. 348.
Siward Barn, signs the Durham charters, i. 305, ii. 536.
Siward the priest, ii. 270 (_note_).
Slave trade, denounced by Remigius, i. 310.
Solêmes, priory of, ii. 202.
Somerset,
ravaged by Robert of Mowbray, i. 41, 42;
bishopric of, removed to Bath, i. 136, ii. 483 et seq.;
use of the name, ii. 488.
Spain, Saracens in, mentioned in the Chronicle, ii. 306.
Sparsholt, manor of,
seized by William Rufus, ii. 380;
recovered by Abbot Faricius, ii. 380 (_note_);
notices of, in Domesday, ii. 381 (_note_).
Stafford, commanded by William Pantulf, ii. 434.
Stars, shooting, notices of, i. 478 (_note_), ii. 41, 118.
Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, appeals to the charter
of Henry I, ii. 358.
Stephen, Abbot of Saint Mary’s, York, signs the Durham charter,
ii. 536.
Stephen, Archdeacon of Romsey, Anselm’s letter to, ii. 578.
Stephen of Aumale,
submits to Rufus, i. 228;
one of his Norman supporters, i. 472;
conspiracy in his favour, ii. 39, 63;
no ground for his claim, ii. 39.
Stephen of Chartres and Blois,
goes on the first crusade, i. 551, 560;
decamps for awhile, i. 566 (_note_).
Stephen, the Jewish convert, story of, i. 163-165.
Stigand, Bishop of Chichester, his death, i. 135.
Stoke, priory of Clare moved to, i. 376.
Stone, manor of, ii. 507.
Stoppele, church of, granted to Twinham, ii. 555.
Stow, monks of, moved by Robert Bloet to Eynesham, ii. 585, 587.
Streatham, lands of Bec at, i. 376.
Stubbs, William, on the alleged Domesday of Flambard, ii. 562.
Sudereys, disturbances in,
on the death of Godred Crouan, ii. 137, 138;
invaded by Magnus, ii. 140.
Sulien, Bishop of Saint David’s, his death, ii. 78.
Summons, effect of the practice of, ii. 58.
Sussex, Earls of, i. 60 (_note_).
Sutton, church at, granted to Abingdon Abbey, ii. 506.
Swansea Castle, ii. 103.
Swegen, son of Æthelric, ii. 551.
Swegen, King, his overthrow at Gainsburgh compared with the
deliverance of Worcester, ii. 480.
Swinecombe, held by Bec, i. 375.
T.
Tancard, Abbot of Jumièges, his appointment, i. 570.
Tenby Castle, ii. 95.
Tewkesbury Abbey,
founded by Robert Fitz-hamon, i. 479, ii. 84;
grant of Welsh churches to, _ib._
Thames, great tide in the, ii. 302.
_Theningmannagemót_, the, i. 604.
Theobald of Gisors. _See_ Pagan.
Theobald, the White Knight, helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519.
Thetford, hospital at,
founded by William Rufus, ii. 506;
the see moved to Norwich, i. 449, ii. 569.
Thierry, Augustin, on the punishment of the monks of Saint
Augustine’s, i. 140 (_note_).
Thomas of London, Archbishop of Canterbury, case of,
at Northampton, i. 95;
general surprise at his appointment, i. 359;
his case compared with those of Anselm and of William of
Saint-Calais, i. 597 et seq.
Thomas of Bayeux, Archbishop of York,
at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 95, 102;
claims jurisdiction over Lindesey, i. 311, 433;
present at Anselm’s consecration, i. 429;
asserts his metropolitan rights, i. 431;
compromise agreed to, i. 447;
at the deathbed of William of Durham, ii. 61;
not present at the coronation of Henry I, ii. 350 (_note_), 681;
his death, ii. 391;
his signature to the Durham charter, ii. 536;
his alleged coronation of Henry, ii. 682.
Thomas,
son of Flambard, ii. 552;
his appointment to the see of Lisieux, ii. 416.
Thora, mother of Sigurd, ii. 133.
Thurstan, Abbot of Glastonbury, restored by William Rufus, i. 135.
Tiberius, Emperor, William Rufus compared to, i. 148.
Tiberius, Legate, ii. 488.
Tickhill (Dadesley) Castle, ii. 160;
name used indiscriminately with Blyth, ii. 162;
surrenders to Henry I, ii. 431;
its later history, ii. 432.
Tinchebrai, English feeling about the battle, ii. 402.
Toledo, taking of, ii. 306.
Tooting, lands of Bec at, i. 376.
Tostig, his works at Tynemouth, ii. 18, 604.
Touques,
William Rufus sets sail from, i. 13;
his voyage to, ii. 284;
its present appearance, _ib._
Toustain, manor of Sparsholt granted to, ii. 380.
Tower of London,
surrounded by a wall, i. 261;
first recorded case of its use as a state prison, ii. 361.
Tréport, Robert’s fleet at, ii. 402.
Trondhjem, Saint Olaf’s body translated to, ii. 139.
Truce of God,
confirmed by the synod of Rouen, i. 568;
observed by William Rufus, ii. 290.
Trye, castle of, ii. 188.
Tunbridge Castle,
holds out against William Rufus, i. 53;
its position, i. 68;
not in Domesday, i. 68 (_note_);
granted to Richard of Clare in exchange for Brionne, _ib._;
taken by William Rufus, i. 69.
Turgot, Prior of Durham and Bishop of Saint Andrews,
favourably received by William Rufus, i. 298;
joins in laying the foundation stone of Durham Abbey, ii. 11;
appointed to the see of Saint Andrews, ii. 124;
as to the writings attributed to him, ii. 596.
Turold, Bishop of Bayeux, his appointment, i. 571.
Turold, Abbot of Peterborough, his death, ii. 267.
Twinham,
connexion of Randolf Flambard with, ii. 553;
church of, ii. 554;
Earl Godwine a benefactor of, ii. 555.
Tynemouth,
Malcolm’s burial at, ii. 17;
history of, ii. 17-19, 602 et seq.;
besieged by William Rufus, ii. 47, 606;
description of, ii. 48, 606;
taking of, ii. 48, 607;
alleged escape of Robert of Mowbray to, ii. 53, 609.
U.
Uhtred, brother of Morkere, ii. 605.
Uhtred, son of Edwin, besieges Pembroke, ii. 108.
Uhtred, son of Fergus, ii. 551.
Ulf, son of Harold and Eadgyth, ii. 134, 135.
Urban II., Pope,
advises Anselm against going to Rome, i. 367 (_note_);
English feeling as to his claim to the papacy, i. 415;
Anselm claims to acknowledge him, i. 416;
the question left unsettled, i. 424;
his correspondence with Wulfstan, i. 479;
his acknowledgement insisted on by Anselm, i. 486;
position of the rival Popes, i. 488;
no real objection on William’s part to acknowledge him, i. 489;
holds a Council at Piacenza, i. 522, 545;
mission of William Rufus to him, i. 524;
received at Cremona by Conrad, i. 525;
acknowledged by Rufus, i. 528;
holds the Council of Clermont, i. 545-547;
preaches the crusades, i. 549;
sends Abbot Jeronto on a mission to William Rufus, i. 553,
ii. 588;
bribed by William, i. 554;
sends his nephew, _ib._;
blesses Duke Robert and his companions, i. 561;
his reception and treatment of Anselm, i. 607, 608, 621;
in Roger’s camp at Capua, i. 615;
Eadmer’s way of speaking of him, i. 616 (_note_);
forbids Anselm to resign, i. 617;
holds the Council of Bari, i. 608, 618;
his dealings with William of Warelwast, i. 619, 620;
threatens William Rufus with excommunication, i. 619;
is bribed to give him a respite, i. 620;
his treatment of Anselm, i. 621;
holds the Lateran Council, i. 607, 621;
his death, i. 622, ii. 300, 311;
Anselm’s letters to him, i. 612, ii. 582.
Urse of Abetot, Sheriff of Gloucester and Worcester, at the trial
of William of Saint-Calais, i. 94.
V.
Vacancies, ecclesiastical,
policy of William Rufus with regard to, i. 135, 336, 337, 347,
348, ii. 564;
older practice as to, i. 350;
later instances, i. 351 (_note_);
provision of Henry’s charter with regard to, ii. 353.
Vaux-en-Belin,
castle of, ii. 277 (_note_);
burnt by Helias, ii. 288;
repaired and held by Robert of Montfort, ii. 289.
Vescy, house of, ii. 15.
Vestments, Lanfranc’s view of, i. 95.
Vetheuil, fortress of, ii. 181.
Vexin, the French,
granted to Lewis by Philip, ii. 175;
its cession demanded by William Rufus, _ib._;
national feeling in, ii. 189.
Victor III., Pope, i. 415.
Vignats,
siege of, ii. 426;
foundation of the abbey, ii. 427.
Vulgrin, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 634.
W.
Wace, his use of the words “Normans and English,” ii. 649.
Walchelm, priest, his vision, ii. 521.
Waleran, Count of Meulan, i. 186, ii. 419.
Wales,
civil wars in, i. 121;
alleged campaign of William Rufus in (1094-1095), i. 476;
type of conquest in, ii. 6;
disunion in, ii. 6, 99;
nature of Rufus’s wars in, ii. 69 et seq.;
effect of castle-building in, ii. 70, 76, 77, 108;
campaigns of Harold compared with those of Rufus, ii. 71;
its conquest compared with the English and Norman Conquests,
ii. 72;
various elements in, ii. 74;
local nomenclature of, ii. 75;
earlier wars in, ii. 77-79;
beginning of the conquest, ii. 79;
revolt in, ii. 99, 100;
general deliverance of, ii. 101;
first campaign of William Rufus in, ii. 105;
English feeling as to the war, ii. 106;
his second and third campaigns, i. 572, 583, ii. 110, 111.
Wales, North, subdued by Hugh of Chester, ii. 146.
Wales, South, Saxon settlements in, ii. 88.
Walkelin, Bishop of Winchester,
sent with a summons to William of Saint-Calais, i. 117;
sent to punish the monks of Saint Augustine’s, i. 139;
assists Osmund to consecrate Salisbury cathedral, i. 309;
at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
his speech to Anselm at the Winchester assembly, i. 586;
at the death-bed of William of Saint-Calais, ii. 61;
his character and acts, ii. 266;
joint regent with Flambard, _ib._;
William Rufus demands money of, ii. 267;
his death, i. 351, ii. 265, 267;
legend of his share in the burial of Rufus, ii. 338.
Wall, Roman, traces of the name, ii. 47.
Walker (Wallcar), ii. 47 (_note_).
Wallknoll, ii. 47, 613.
Wallsend, i. 47.
Walter of Corbeuil, Archbishop of Canterbury, his works at Rochester,
i. 53, 54 (_note_).
Walter, Bishop of Albano,
received by William Rufus as Papal Legate, i. 527, ii. 391;
brings the pallium, i. 527;
refuses to depose Anselm, i. 528;
gives the pallium to Anselm, i. 534;
stays in England, i. 535;
objects of his mission, i. 536;
his letters to Anselm, i. 536, 538, ii. 41, 571;
accompanies William Rufus to Nottingham, ii. 44.
Walter of Eyncourt, i. 113.
Walter Giffard, Earl of Buckingham,
submits to Rufus, i. 231;
supports Rufus against Robert, i. 472;
signs Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
plots against him, ii. 395;
his death, i. 473.
Walter Tirel,
entertains Anselm, i. 380 (_note_), ii. 322;
his friendship with William Rufus, ii. 321, 322;
his parentage, ii. 322, 672;
his lordships and marriage, ii. 321, 322, 673;
his alleged share in the making of the New Forest, ii. 322, 674;
his discourse with the King, ii. 322-325, 661;
mentioned in most versions as his slayer, ii. 325;
his solemn denial of the charge, ii. 326, 674;
no ground for the charge, ii. 657;
whether the Walter Tirel of Domesday, ii. 673;
legend about the shoeing of his horse, ii. 676.
Walter of Saint Valery, i. 228 (_note_);
goes on the first crusade, i. 551.
Walter, son of Ansgar,
in command at Le Mans, ii. 241, 370;
sets fire to Le Mans, ii. 280;
confers with Helias, ii. 371.
Waltham, church of, plundered by Rufus, i. 168, ii. 505, 506.
Waltheof, Earl of Northampton and Huntingdonshire, grants Tynemouth
to Jarrow, ii. 18, 604.
War, private, unlawful in England, ii. 417.
Wardship, the lord’s right of,
established by Flambard, i. 336, 339;
oppressive working of, i. 338;
peculiar to England and Normandy, i. 340;
provision for, in Henry’s charter, ii. 353.
Weedon Beck, Northamptonshire, said to have been a cell of Bec,
i. 376 (_note_).
Wells (Norfolk), grant of, to Saint Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 504.
Wells (Somerset), see of,
moved to Bath, i. 136, ii. 483;
dislike of the canons to Bishop John’s changes, i. 138, ii. 486;
they recover their property under Bishop Robert, ii. 486;
charter of William Rufus preserved at, ii. 483.
Welsh language, endurance of, ii. 75.
Wenlock, Earl Roger’s foundation at, ii. 154.
Westminster Hall,
its foundation by William Rufus, ii. 259, 262;
he holds his Whitsun feast there, ii. 257, 264, 271;
recast by Richard II., ii. 262.
Westmoreland,
why not entered in Domesday, i. 313, ii. 547 et seq.;
entries of, in the Pipe Rolls, ii. 551.
Whithern, see of, ii. 551.
Wido. _See_ Guy.
Wilfrith, Bishop of Saint David’s,
suspended and restored, i. 534;
sides with William Rufus, ii. 94;
Gerald of Windsor’s dealings with, ii. 109.
William the Conqueror,
his informal nomination of William Rufus, i. 9, 11;
his advice to him, ii. 461;
distribution of his treasures, i. 17, 18;
compared with Rufus by Odo, i. 26;
his ecclesiastical supremacy, i. 105;
compared with Rufus, i. 158, 456;
foretells the character of Robert’s reign, i. 189;
garrisons the castles of the nobles, i. 192;
his ecclesiastical position, i. 328;
his relations with Lanfranc, _ib._;
his friendship with Anselm, i. 380;
use of his “days” as a note of time, i. 569;
his visit to Saint David’s and his designs on Ireland, ii. 94.
William Rufus,
character of his reign, i. 3;
feudal developement under him, i. 4;
character of his accession, i. 9-11, 19-21, ii. 459-465;
his informal nomination by his father, i. 9, 11, ii. 461;
not formally elected, i. 9, ii. 459;
sets sail from Touques, i. 13;
re-imprisons Morkere and Wulfnoth, i. 14;
his meeting with Lanfranc, i. 15;
his coronation, _ib._;
his special oath, i. 16, ii. 460;
his coronation rites said to have been imperfect, ii. 461;
his distribution of gifts, i. 17;
restores Odo to his earldom, i. 19;
revolt of the Norman nobles against, i. 22 et seq., ii. 465
et seq.;
compared with his father by Odo, i. 26;
seizes the temporalities of William of Saint-Calais, i. 30;
summons him to his court, i. 31;
lays waste his land, i. 32;
wins over Earl Roger, i. 61, ii. 462;
loyalty of the bishops towards him, i. 63;
his appeal and promises to the English, i. 63, 64;
their loyalty to him, i. 64, 65, 66;
their motives for supporting him, i. 65;
accepted as their king, i. 66, 131;
marches against the rebels, i. 67;
takes Tunbridge Castle, i. 69;
marches on Pevensey, i. 72, and takes it, i. 76;
his _Niðing_ Proclamation, i. 78;
besieges Rochester, i. 79;
Odo surrenders to him, i. 80;
at first refuses terms to the besieged, i. 81;
his answer to the pleadings for them, i. 83;
grants terms, i. 85;
his confiscations and grants, i. 88;
his amnesty to the chief rebels, _ib._;
again summons William of Saint-Calais, i. 89;
grants him a safe-conduct, i. 91;
refuses him the privileges of his order, i. 92;
holds a meeting at Salisbury, i. 94;
his speeches thereat, i. 98, 107, 110;
his offers to Bishop William, i. 111, 114;
his answer to Ralph Paganel, i. 112;
Durham castle surrendered to, i. 114;
summons Bishop William again, i. 116;
grants him leave to depart, i. 117;
estimate of his behaviour in the case, i. 119, 605;
his breach of his promises, i. 132;
position of the English under, i. 133;
mocks at omens, i. 133 (_note_);
his employment of mercenaries, i. 134, 153, 226, ii. 496, 498;
early charge of simony against, i. 135;
his charter to John of Tours, i. 138;
suppresses the disturbances at Saint Augustine’s, i. 139;
effects of Lanfranc’s death on him, i. 142, 148, 343;
description and character of, i. 5, 143 et seq., ii. 244, 256,
337, 490 et seq.;
his surname of _Rufus_, i. 144;
his filial zeal, i. 145;
general charges against him, i. 147;
his lack of steadfastness, i. 149;
his unfinished campaigns, _ib._;
his “magnanimity,” i. 149, ii. 497;
trick played on, by his chamberlain, i. 150;
his “liberality,” i. 151, ii. 492;
his extortions, i. 153, ii. 498;
his strict government, i. 153, ii. 496;
his stricter forest laws, i. 155;
dress and manners at his court, i. 158, ii. 500-502;
his special vices, i. 157, 159, ii. 497, 502;
contrasted with his father, i. 158, 456;
his irreligion, i. 159;
favours the Jews, i. 161;
question as to his scepticism, _ib._;
makes the Jewish converts apostatize, i. 162, 614, ii. 504;
his dispute with Stephen the convert, i. 163-165, ii. 504;
his blasphemies, i. 165-167, ii. 503;
his favourite oath, i. 108, 112, 164, 289, 391, 511 (_note_),
ii. 61 (_note_), 503, 650;
redeeming features in his character, i. 168;
his respect for his father’s memory, i. 168, ii. 505;
his ecclesiastical benefactions, _ib._;
his chivalry, i. 169-171;
law of honour as practised by, i. 85, 92, 169, 408, ii. 14, 237,
244;
his schemes against Duke Robert, i. 221;
obtains the consent of the Witan to an invasion of Normandy,
i. 222-224;
his constitutional language, i. 223;
his policy against Normandy, i. 224;
his position compared with that of Robert, i. 226;
his employment of money, i. 226, 227;
joined by the Norman nobles, i. 228 et seq.;
bribes Philip of France, i. 237, 239;
his position compared with that of his father, i. 240;
result of his dealings with Philip, i. 241;
his treaty with Conan of Rouen, i. 247;
crosses to Normandy, i. 273;
his treaty with Robert, i. 275-279, ii. 522-528;
his probable object in the spoliation of Henry, i. 279;
his policy towards Henry and Eadgar, i. 281;
joins Robert against Henry, i. 283;
besieges Saint Michael’s Mount, i. 285-292, ii. 528-535;
personal anecdotes of, i. 287-292, ii. 497, 532;
compared to Alexander the Great, i. 287;
contrasted with Robert, i. 290;
returns to England, i. 293, 295;
sets forth against Malcolm, i. 298;
his favourable treatment of the monks of Durham, i. 298, ii. 508;
Bishop William reconciled to, i. 299;
meets Malcolm at the _Scots’ Water_, i. 301;
his treaty with Malcolm, i. 304;
receives the homage of Malcolm, i. 304, ii. 541;
signs the Durham charter, i. 305, ii. 536;
his fresh dispute with Robert, i. 306;
orders the consecration of Lincoln minster, i. 312;
his conquest and colonization of Carlisle, i. 313-318;
character of the early years of his reign, i. 325;
his relations with Anselm, i. 328;
his policy in keeping the see of Canterbury vacant, i. 328,
359, 360;
influence of Randolf Flambard on him, i. 329, 332 et seq.;
his dealings with vacant bishoprics and abbeys, i. 336, 347,
350, ii. 565;
his dealings with church lands, i. 345 et seq.;
charges of simony brought against, i. 348;
story of his appointment to a vacant abbey, i. 352;
his first interview with Anselm, i. 385;
rebuked by him, i. 386;
refuses him leave to return to Normandy, i. 388;
petitioned by the Witan to appoint an archbishop, i. 389;
his mocking speech about Anselm, i. 390;
his sickness, i. 391;
repents and sends for Anselm, i. 392, 393;
his proclamation of reforms, i. 393;
names Anselm archbishop, i. 396;
prays him to accept the see, i. 398;
invests him by force, i. 400;
orders the restitution of the temporalities, i. 403;
his recovery and relapse, i. 407;
keeps his engagement to Anselm, i. 408;
his interview with Robert of Flanders, i. 411;
with Anselm at Rochester, i. 412 et seq.;
his answer to Anselm’s conditions, i. 417;
asks Anselm to confirm his grants of church lands, i. 418;
renews his promises and receives Anselm’s homage as archbishop,
i. 422;
his writ, _ib._;
receives Anselm at Gloucester, i. 434;
challenged by Robert, i. 435;
his dealings with the contributions offered for the war, i. 437;
refuses Anselm’s gift, i. 438;
gathers his forces at Hastings, i. 441;
present at the consecration of Battle Abbey, i. 443, 444;
upholds Anselm against Robert Bloet, i. 446;
deprives Herbert Bishop of Thetford, i. 448, ii. 569;
his interview with Anselm at Hastings, i. 450 et seq.;
no synod held under him, i. 452;
his answer to Anselm’s prayer to fill the vacant abbeys, i. 455;
attempts to get more money out of Anselm, i. 458-460;
sets sail for Normandy, i. 460;
vain attempts to settle the dispute between him and Robert,
i. 461;
castles held by him, i. 462;
his levy of English soldiers, i. 465;
trick played on them, i. 466;
buys off Philip, _ib._;
summons Henry and Earl Hugh to Eu, i. 469;
returns to England and is reconciled to Henry, i. 470;
his Norman supporters, i. 471-474;
causes for his return, i. 474;
his alleged Welsh campaign in 1094-1095, i. 476;
refuses Anselm leave to go for the pallium, i. 483, 484;
will acknowledge no Pope, i. 484;
frequency of assemblies under him, i. 487;
summons an assembly at Rockingham, i. 487-519;
estimate of his conduct in this dispute, i. 488;
his Imperial claims, i. 503;
bids the bishops renounce Anselm, i. 512;
withdraws his protection from him, _ib._;
his appeal to the lay lords, i. 513;
his examination and treatment of the bishops, i. 515, 516;
summons Anselm before him, i. 517;
adjourns the assembly, i. 518;
oppresses Anselm’s friends, i. 520;
his fresh schemes against him, i. 523;
his mission to Urban, i. 524-526;
Walter of Albano’s mission to, i. 527;
acknowledges Urban, i. 528;
forced to be reconciled to Anselm, i. 529, 531;
Anselm refuses the pallium at his hands, i. 532;
his position as regards the crusade, i. 553;
Abbot Jeronto’s mission to him, _ib._;
Normandy pledged to him, by Robert, i. 555;
his taxation for the pledge-money, i. 556-559, ii. 506;
his conference with Robert, i. 559, ii. 207;
takes possession of Normandy, i. 566, ii. 207;
his grants to Henry, i. 567;
his rule in Normandy, i. 567-570;
his appointments to Norman prelacies, i. 570;
returns to England, i. 571;
his expeditions against Wales, i. 572, 583, ii. 69 et seq.;
complains of Anselm’s contingent, i. 572;
summons him to his court, i. 574;
refuses him leave to go to Rome, i. 582, 583, 584;
holds an assembly at Winchester, i. 584 et seq.;
his conditional leave to Anselm, i. 592;
his last interview with Anselm, i. 593;
blessed by him, i. 594;
seizes on the estates of his see, i. 595;
estimate of his behaviour towards William of Saint-Calais and
towards Anselm, i. 605;
Anselm pleads against his excommunication, i. 611, 618;
probable effect of an excommunication, i. 611, 612;
Anselm’s and Urban’s letters to, i. 613;
his mission to Urban, i. 613, 619;
threatened with excommunication, i. 619;
bribes Urban, i. 620;
his words on Urban’s death and Paschal’s election, i. 623,
ii. 311;
growth of the English power and nation under, ii. 4;
effects of his reign on the union of Britain, ii. 6;
complaints made against, by Malcolm, ii. 8;
sends Eadgar to invite him to Gloucester, ii. 9, 590;
refuses to see him, ii. 13, 590;
dispute between them, _ib._;
his probable pretensions, _ib._;
observes his safe-conduct, ii. 14, 591;
story of him and Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 31, 600;
grants the Scottish crown to Duncan, ii. 34;
revolt of Robert of Mowbray against him, ii. 37 et seq.;
orders Robert to make good his plunder of the merchants, ii. 41;
summons him to his court, _ib._;
refuses him a safe-conduct, i. 42;
marches against him, i. 537, ii. 43;
takes Newcastle, ii. 47,
and Tynemouth, ii. 48, 606;
besieges Bamburgh, ii. 50, 607;
makes the _Malvoisin_ tower, ii. 51, 608;
leaves Bamburgh, ii. 52, 609;
holds an assembly at Salisbury, ii. 56;
refuses to spare William of Alderi, ii. 67;
nature of his Welsh wars, ii. 69 et seq.;
builds castles in Wales, ii. 70, 112;
his campaign compared with that of Harold, ii. 71, 105;
his alleged designs on Ireland, ii. 93;
his first Welsh campaign, ii. 105;
his second and third campaigns, i. 572, 583, ii. 110, 111;
his relations with Eadgar Ætheling, ii. 114;
doubtful policy of his grant to Robert of Bellême, ii. 148, 162;
character of his last years, ii. 163;
his designs on France, ii. 167;
demands the cession of the Vexin, ii. 175;
crosses to Normandy, ii. 167, 176;
excesses of his followers in England, ii. 176;
chief men on his side, ii. 178;
his treatment of his prisoners, ii. 179, 190;
his prospects, ii. 184;
failure of his plans, ii. 185;
befriends Bishop Howel of Le Mans, ii. 201;
his interview with Helias, ii. 208-210;
delays his attack on him, ii. 210;
his anger at the election of Hildebert, ii. 213, 625;
his designs on Maine, ii. 613;
stirred up to war by Robert of Bellême, ii. 215;
contrasted with him, ii. 224;
his treatment of Helias, ii. 225;
his speech at the council of Rouen, ii. 226;
levies an army, ii. 227;
invades Maine, ii. 229;
grants a truce to Ralph of Fresnay, ii. 230;
his march onwards, ii. 232;
arrives at Le Mans, ii. 233;
ravages Coulaine, ii. 234, 625, 627;
raises the siege of Le Mans, ii. 234;
his treatment of the knight at Ballon, ii. 237;
Le Mans submits to, ii. 239;
his entry, ii. 240;
receives the general submission of Maine, _ib._;
his interview with Helias, ii. 242-245, 640-645;
his seeming quotation from Lucan, ii. 642;
sets Helias free, ii. 244, 628, 642, 643;
extent of his conquests in Maine, ii. 245;
invades the Vexin, ii. 246;
besieges Chaumont, ii. 248;
agrees to a truce, ii. 255;
ill-success of his French war, _ib._;
his gemóts in 1099, ii. 257;
his architectural works a national grievance, ii. 257-260;
legal position of his reign, ii. 263;
his object in building Westminster Hall, _ib._;
holds his Whitsun feast there, ii. 257, 264;
demands money of Bishop Walkelin, ii. 267;
forbids the dedication of Saint Eadmund’s, ii. 269;
hears of the recovery of Le Mans by Helias, ii. 283, 645;
his ride to the coast, ii. 283;
his voyage to Touques, ii. 284, 645-652;
his speech to the sailors compared with that of Julius Cæsar,
ii. 497, 647;
his ride to Bonneville, ii. 285, 646;
marches against Le Mans, ii. 287;
passes through it and harries southern Maine, ii. 288;
besieges Mayet, ii. 289-294, 653;
observes the Truce of God, ii. 290;
his narrow escape at Mayet, ii. 293;
raises the siege, ii. 294, 653;
failure of the campaign, _ib._;
his treatment of Le Mans, ii. 295;
leaves garrisons and returns to England, ii. 296;
Hildebert reconciled to, ii. 297, 626;
bids Hildebert pull down the towers of Saint Julian’s, ii. 297,
654;
compared with Æthelred, ii. 307;
his schemes of conquest, ii. 307, 311;
contradiction in his character, ii. 308;
his chivalrous feelings, ii. 237;
illustrations of his character, ii. 244, 256;
his dealings with William of Aquitaine, ii. 313;
prepares to occupy Aquitaine, ii. 314;
his alleged designs on the Empire, i. 7, ii. 314;
Abbot Serlo’s warning to, ii. 318, 329;
his alleged dream, ii. 319-321;
his discourse with Walter Tirel, ii. 322-325;
his death, ii. 325;
whether accidental, ii. 325, 657;
various versions thereof, ii. 327, 657-676;
its immediate impression and abiding memory, ii. 335, 336, 663;
his death looked on as a judgement, ii. 665;
contrasted with that of Charles I, ii. 337;
his end and character, _ib._;
his alleged penitence, ii. 331, 332, 337;
accounts of his burial, ii. 338-340, 676-680;
his popular excommunication, ii. 340;
portents at his death, ii. 341;
advantage given to the Popes by his reign, ii. 377;
effect of his reign on the fusion of races, ii. 456.
William III., his fearlessness in danger compared with that of
William Rufus, ii. 652.
William Ætheling, son of Henry I and Matilda, ii. 389.
William Clito, son of Robert and Sibyl, ii. 312 (_note_).
William, natural son of Robert, ii. 316.
William _Bona Anima_, Archbishop of Rouen,
consecrates Bishop Howel, i. 208;
consents to Anselm’s acceptance of the primacy, i. 406;
said to have married Philip and Bertrada, ii. 172 (_note_).
William of Saint-Calais, Bishop of Durham,
his influence with William Rufus, i. 23;
his treason against him, i. 28, 30;
different statements of his conduct, i. 28, ii. 469-474;
his alleged services to William, i. 29, 111, ii. 473;
his temporalities seized, i. 30, ii. 470;
his letter to the King, i. 30;
summoned before him, i. 31;
treatment of, by Ralph Paganel, _ib._;
evidence against him, i. 35, ii. 470;
again summoned by William, i. 89;
complains of Ralph Paganel, i. 90;
comes with a safe-conduct, i. 91;
asserts his ecclesiastical claims, _ib._;
goes back to Durham, i. 92;
further ravaging of his lands, _ib._;
his agreement with the Counts Alan and Odo, i. 93;
his conduct at the meeting at Salisbury, i. 95;
denies the authority of the court, i. 96, 97;
formal charge against him, i. 98, ii. 473;
his answer, i. 99;
debates on the charge, i. 101-103;
appeals to Rome, i. 103, 109;
sentence pronounced against him, i. 106;
renews his appeal, _ib._;
William demands the surrender of Durham castle, i. 107;
appeals to Alan and Odo, i. 108;
final sentence against, i. 110;
asks for an allowance, _ib._;
surety for the ships demanded of him, i. 111;
new charges against, i. 113, 116;
Lanfranc interferes on his behalf, i. 113;
conditions and difficulties about his sailing, i. 114-116;
surrender of Durham castle, i. 114, ii. 472;
Odo and Alan interfere on his behalf, i. 117;
allowed to depart to Normandy, _ib._;
importance of the story, i. 117-120;
scarcely noticed by modern historians, ii. 474;
restored to his bishopric, i. 299;
his renewed influence with William, i. 300;
his grant to the church of Durham, i. 305, ii. 535;
advises Rufus as to Anselm’s conditions, i. 417;
at the consecration of the church of Battle, i. 444;
assists in the consecration of Robert Bloet, i. 445;
plots against Anselm, i. 497, 500;
aspires to the primacy, i. 501;
his promises to William and speech to Anselm, i. 502;
recommends force, i. 510;
his case compared with those of Anselm and Thomas, i. 597 et seq.;
his rebuilding of his church, ii. 11, 60;
invites Malcolm to the foundation ceremony, _ib._;
probably concerned in Robert of Mowbray’s rebellion, ii. 38;
portents foretelling his death, ii. 59;
summoned to take his trial, ii. 60;
his death, i. 478 (_note_), 542, ii. 61;
debate as to his burying-place, ii. 61;
substitutes monks for canons, ii. 60.
William of Warelwast, Bishop of Exeter,
his first mission to Urban, i. 524, 525;
returns with the Legate Walter, i. 526;
searches Anselm’s luggage at Dover, i. 595;
his second mission to Urban, i. 613, 619;
his secret dealings with him, i. 620;
signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366.
William of Passavant, Bishop of Le Mans, his buildings, ii. 636,
640, 656.
William, Bishop of Thetford, his death, i. 354.
William Giffard, Bishop of Winchester,
his appointment to the see, ii. 349;
later notices of, ii. 349, 578;
his signature to Henry’s charter, ii. 358;
probably one of Henry’s inner council, ii. 362;
signs Henry’s letter to Anselm, ii. 366.
William, Archdeacon of Canterbury, sent to inquire into the matter
of Eadgyth-Matilda, ii. 384.
William of Alderi, his sentence and death, ii. 66-68.
William of Albini, defends Rochester, i. 53 (_note_).
William, Duke of Aquitaine,
helps William Rufus against Lewis, ii. 250, 251;
seat of war affected by his coming, ii. 250, 252;
his crusade, ii. 313;
proposes to pledge his duchy to Rufus, _ib._
William of Arques, monk of Molesme, i. 220 (_note_), 256.
William of Bellême, founds Lonlay Abbey, ii. 539.
William of Breteuil,
son of Earl William Fitz-Osbern, drives out the ducal forces,
i. 193;
Ivry granted to, by Duke Robert, i. 194;
joins Robert’s expedition into Maine, i. 209;
his war with Ascelin Goel, i. 243;
comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249;
imprisons William son of Ansgar, i. 261;
marches against Conches, i. 261, 266;
his imprisonment and ransom, i. 267;
settles his estates on Roger of Toesny, i. 268;
his natural children, i. 268 (_note_);
maintains Robert’s claim to the throne, ii. 346, 680.
William _Capra_, ii. 508.
William, son of Robert Count of Eu,
rebels against William Rufus, i. 33;
his ravages in Gloucestershire, i. 41, 44;
submits to William, i. 229;
suggests an invasion of Normandy, i. 411;
supports William Rufus, i. 472;
conspires against him, ii. 39, 44;
his combat with Geoffrey of Baynard and defeat, ii. 63;
sentenced to mutilation, ii. 64, 65, 68;
his faithlessness to his wife, ii. 64.
William, Count of Evreux,
drives out the ducal forces, i. 193;
his feud with Ralph of Toesny, i. 231, 233, 245;
comes to Robert’s help at Rouen, i. 249;
marches against Conches, i. 261, 266;
makes Roger of Toesny his heir, i. 268;
his later treaty with Ralph of Toesny, i. 270;
wars against Robert of Meulan, _ib._;
his bargain about Bertrada’s marriage, ii. 193;
charged with the government of Le Mans, ii. 241;
granted to Henry by Robert, ii. 514;
his banishment and death, i. 270.
William Fitz-Osbern, story of him and Eudo of Rye, ii. 463.
William of London or _Londres_, his settlement at Kidwelly,
ii. 86, 102.
William of Malmesbury, his _Gesta Regum_ and _Gesta Pontificum_,
ii. 492.
William of Mandeville, ii. 397.
William of Moion, his grant of Dunster church, ii. 489.
William of Montfichet, legend of his share in the burial of Rufus,
ii. 338, 676.
William of Montfort, recommended by Anselm as his successor at Bec,
ii. 575.
William, Count of Mortain,
founds Montacute priory, ii. 120;
his vision of William Rufus, ii. 342;
doubts as to his loyalty to Henry I, ii. 404;
his banishment, ii. 453;
his imprisonment and alleged blinding, _ib._
William Pantulf,
Robert of Bellême’s dealings with, ii. 434;
joins Henry, _ib._;
commands at Stafford, _ib._;
notices of, in Domesday, ii. 434 (_note_);
negotiates with Jorwerth, ii. 439;
mediates at Bridgenorth, ii. 441.
William Peverel,
holds La Houlme for William Rufus, i. 463;
surrenders to Robert, i. 465;
signs the Durham charter, ii. 536.
William of Pont de l’Arche, ii. 464.
William Talvas, his capture of Geoffrey of Mayenne, i. 214.
William Tisonne, ii. 596.
William of Wacey, taken prisoner by Helias, ii. 222.
William of Warren, Earl of Surrey,
his loyalty to William Rufus, i. 59;
receives the earldom of Surrey, i. 60, 62 (_note_);
his death and burial at Lewes, i. 62 (_note_), 76.
William of Warren the younger, Earl of Surrey,
helps to defend Courcy, ii. 519;
deserts from Henry I, ii. 409;
his enmity towards him, _ib._;
his banishment, ii. 416,
and restoration, ii. 417.
William, son of Ansgar, i. 247;
his imprisonment and ransom, i. 261.
William, son of Anskill,
his estates seized by William Rufus, ii. 380;
his marriage, ii. 381 (_note_).
William, son of Baldwin,
builds Rhyd-y-gors castle, ii. 97;
defends it, ii. 101;
his death, ii. 106.
William, son of Geroy, rescues Geoffrey of Mayenne from William
Talvas, i. 214.
William, grandson of Geroy, poisoned, i. 469 (_note_).
William, son of Holdegar, ii. 551.
Williams, John, on Jestin ap Gwrgan, ii. 614.
Wills. _See_ Bequest.
Winchcombe, fall of the tower, i. 307.
Winchester,
wealth of the treasury at, i. 17;
Jews at, i. 160 (_note_);
special gemót at (1093), i. 422;
its position under the Norman kings, ii. 261;
burial of Rufus at, ii. 340;
fall of the minster tower, ii. 341;
Duke Robert declines to besiege it, ii. 406.
Witenagemót,
held three times a year, i. 222 (_note_);
gradually becomes less popular, i. 602;
lessened freedom of speech in, i. 603;
inner and outer council of, _ib._
Witsand, William Rufus said to have set sail from, i. 13 (_note_).
_Wlurintun_, grant of the manor, ii. 507.
Worcester,
rebel nobles march against, i. 47;
its position, i. 48;
its deliverance by Wulfstan, i. 48-51, ii. 475-481.
Worm’s Head, name of, ii. 615.
Wulf, son of Harold, set free by Robert, i. 14.
Wulfgar the huntsman,
one of the defenders of Bridgenorth, ii. 433;
his negotiations with Henry I, ii. 440, 443.
Wulfgeat the huntsman, ii. 433 (_note_).
Wulfnoth, son of Godwine,
reimprisoned by William Rufus, i. 13, 14;
signs a charter of William of Saint-Calais, i. 14 (_note_);
signs the foundation charter of Salisbury Cathedral, i. 309
(_note_).
Wulfric the huntsman, ii. 433 (_note_).
Wulfstan, Saint, Bishop of Worcester,
attends the Christmas assembly at Westminster, i. 18, 19 (_note_);
defends Worcester against the rebels, i. 48-51, ii. 475-481;
excommunicates them, i. 51;
legendary growth of the story, ii. 477;
decides between Anselm and Bishop Maurice, i. 440;
his sickness, i. 478;
his dinner with “good men,” _ib._;
his correspondence, i. 479;
confesses to Robert of Hereford, _ib._;
his death, i. 477, 480;
entry as to his death, i. 478 (_note_);
appears to Bishop Robert of Hereford, i. 480, 533 (_note_);
his burial, i. 480;
honour paid to him by King John, i. 481;
his action against the fashion of wearing long hair, ii. 501.
Y.
Yeovil, i. 43 (_note_).
Yeovilton, i. 43 (_note_).
York, Priory of Holy Trinity at,
founded by Ralph Paganel, i. 31;
massacre of Jews at, i. 160 (_note_);
Saint Peter’s Hospital at, gifts of Rufus to, i. 168, ii. 506;
its deliverance in 1069 compared with that of Le Mans, ii. 279.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
Transcriber’s Note:
Footnotes were renumbered sequentially and were moved to the end of
the book.
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diacriticals not available in UTF-8 are displayed within brackets,
like this: [~c]. Elipses were standardized. Descriptive text contained
within maps was added as a caption to illustrations.
Duplicate sidenotes, repeated over page breaks, were removed.
Transliteration of words in Greek are presented within brackets
following the Greek. Use of punctuation in the index was made
consistent.
Obsolete words, spelling variations, inconsistent hyphenation, and
misspelled words were not changed.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Reign of William Rufus and the Accession of Henry the First, Volume II (of 2)" ***
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