The king, however, met the rebellion with his accustomed vigor and decision. He confiscated the lands of the rebels and turned their rents to the employment of mercenaries to be used against them. Apparently he had been on his way to make war upon Rotrou of Mortagne in the Corbonnais when his plans had been interrupted by the disgraceful brawl among his sons at Laigle.[22] He now abandoned that enterprise, and, making peace with Rotrou, took him and his troops into his own service. And thus raising a considerable army, he laid siege to the rebels in their stronghold at Rémalard.[23] But of the outcome of these operations we have no certain knowledge. One of the insurgents at least, Aimeric de Villeray, was slain, and his son Gulfer was so terrified by his father’s tragic fate that he made peace with the king and remained thereafter unshakably loyal.
We hear, too, vaguely of a ‘dapifer’ of the king of France who was passing from castle to castle among the rebels.[24] What his business was we know not; but it seems not unlikely that King Philip was already negotiating with the insurgent leaders with a view to aiding and abetting their enterprise against his too powerful Norman vassal.[25] Philip had made peace with the Conqueror after the latter’s unsuccessful siege of Dol in 1076,[26] but the friendship of the two kings had not been lasting. Sound policy demanded that Philip spare no effort to curb the overweening power of his great Norman feudatory; and William had, therefore, to count upon his constant, if veiled, hostility.[27] The rebellion of Robert Curthose and his followers was Philip’s opportunity; and it seems not improbable that he looked upon the movement with favor and gave it encouragement from its inception. Clearly he made no effort to suppress it, though the fighting was going on within his own borders. And, in any case, before the end of 1078 he had definitely taken Robert Curthose under his protection and had assigned him the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis, close to the Norman frontier.[28] There Robert was received with his followers by royal castellans and promised every possible aid and support.
But this evidently was some months, at least, after the outbreak of Robert’s rebellion. As to his movements in the meantime, we hear little more than uncertain rumors. The sources are silent concerning the part which he played in the border warfare which centred around the castles of Hugh of Châteauneuf. We have it on the express statement of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle that Robert fled to his uncle, Robert the Frisian, count of Flanders;[29] and in this the Chronicle is confirmed by Ordericus Vitalis, who adds that he also visited Odo, bishop of Treves.[30] Other writers indicate simply that he withdrew into France.[31] Ordericus indeed, represents him as wandering much farther, and visiting noble kinsmen, “dukes, counts, and powerful townsmen (oppidani) in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and Gascony,” wasting his substance in dissolute living and reduced to poverty and beggary, and to borrowing of foreign usurers.[32] But such wanderings, if they actually occurred, it seems more natural to assign—since we are reduced to conjecture—to Robert’s second exile.[33] One incident, however, which concerns his mother, the queen, who died in 1083, must be assigned to this period.
The singularly happy relations which existed between William and Matilda, their mutual love, devotion, and confidence, are of course famous. Once only during their long union were these happy relations seriously disturbed.[34] For Matilda’s heart was touched by the distresses of her son, and she did not sympathize with the stern justice of the Conqueror in this domestic matter. Secretly she undertook to provide Robert out of her own revenues with funds for the maintenance of a military force. But the king soon detected her and interfered, declaring, in his wrath, that he had learned the truth of the adage, “A faithless woman is her husband’s bane.” He had loved her as his own soul and had intrusted her with his treasures and with jurisdiction throughout all his dominions, only to find her giving succor to enemies who were plotting against his life. But undaunted by this outburst, the queen sought to justify herself upon the ground of her great love for her eldest son. Though Robert were dead and buried seven feet under the earth, she declared, she would gladly die, if by so doing she could restore him to life. Respecting the spirit of his proud consort, the king turned to vent his rage upon Samson le Breton, the queen’s messenger, proposing to seize him and have him blinded. But Samson received timely warning and managed to escape to Saint-Évroul; and, at the queen’s request, Abbot Mainer received him into the monastery. There he dwelt in security and led an exemplary life for twenty-six years, no doubt well known to the chronicler of the house who records his tale.[35]
Whatever be the truth about Robert’s wanderings and the vicissitudes of his exile, in the end he returned to France and, as already noted, gained the support of King Philip, and was established with his followers in the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis. There a military force of considerable proportions began to gather around him in response to his lavish promises. Adventurers came from France; but in greater numbers came the malcontents from Normandy. Many who hitherto had kept the peace and had remained loyal to the king now deserted the royal cause and went over to swell the ranks of the rebels.[36] King William was now obliged to turn his attention to this hornet’s nest that was spreading terror among the peaceful and defenceless population on his northeastern frontier. Quartering troops in his strongholds opposite Gerberoy, he endeavored to forestall the destructive raids which the insurgents were making into his territory.[37] But, vexed that his enemies should seem to dwell in security at a point so little removed from the borders of Normandy, he determined to carry the war beyond the frontier; and, though it was the inclement season, he assembled his forces and laid siege to Gerberoy itself for some three weeks soon after Christmas (1078-79).[38]
The operations which followed were enlivened in the fashion of the day by the frequent interchange of challenges and by numerous encounters between selected bodies of knights from each side,[39] until finally the besieged garrison brought the contest to an issue by a successful sortie and a pitched battle in the open before the castle.[40] In the general mêlée which ensued the Conqueror and Robert met in single combat, and the elderly king proved no match for his vigorous and skilful antagonist. He was wounded in the hand or arm, and his horse was shot from under him.[41] According to one, and perhaps the better, account, Tokig son of Wigod, a faithful Englishman, hurried to the king with another mount, only to be himself slain a moment later by a shaft from a crossbow.[42] According to another account, however, at the supreme moment of his antagonist’s distress, Robert recognized his father’s voice—armor had hitherto disguised the king—and, leaping down from his own horse, he directed him to mount and allowed him to ride away.[43] Many of the king’s men were slain, others were captured, and many more were wounded, among them being Robert’s younger brother, William Rufus.[44] The discomfiture of the royal forces was complete, and they fled from the field.[45]
This unexpected defeat before the walls of Gerberoy was a deep humiliation to the Conqueror. William of Malmesbury speaks of it as the one outstanding misfortune of his long and brilliant career.[46] In the bitterness of his shame and of his indignation against the son who had not only rebelled against him, but had actually met him on the field of battle and wounded and unhorsed him, William is said to have laid on Robert a terrible curse, vowing to disinherit him forever.[47] Though the curse was soon lifted and grudging forgiveness granted, one might easily believe from the misfortunes of Robert’s later years that the baneful influence of this paternal malediction followed him to his grave more than half a century later beneath the pavement stones of Gloucester abbey.
The part played by the king of France in the border war around Gerberoy is puzzling. The narrative sources state specifically that King Philip had given his support to Robert and the Norman rebels and had deliberately established them at Gerberoy in order that they might harry the Norman border. Yet we have a charter of unquestioned validity by King Philip in favor of the church of Saint-Quentin of Beauvais, which bears the signatures of both William and Philip and a dating clause which reveals the fact that it was drawn up at the siege which the two kings were conducting about Gerberoy in 1079.[48] The evidence is conclusive, therefore, that, though the French king had previously supported Robert and had actually established him at Gerberoy, he nevertheless joined with the Conqueror early in 1079 in besieging the Norman rebels in his own stronghold.[49] How King William had wrought this change of mind in his jealous overlord we have no means of knowing. But it is evident that, while meeting his son’s rebellion by force of arms, he had not been forgetful of his mastery of the diplomatic art.
The presence of so great an ally, however, could not disguise the fact of the Conqueror’s defeat; and before the struggle was allowed to go to further extremes, influences were brought to bear upon the king which led to a reconciliation. After his humiliating discomfiture William had retired to Rouen.[50] Robert is said to have gone to Flanders,[51] though this seems hardly likely in view of his decisive victory over the royal forces. In any case, intermediaries now began to pass back and forth between them. Robert was very willing to make peace and be reconciled with his father. The barons, too, had little mind for a continuation of this kind of warfare. Robert’s rebellion had divided many a family, and it was irksome to the nobles to have to fight against “sons, brothers, and kinsmen.” Accordingly, Roger of Montgomery, Hugh of Gournay, Hugh of Grandmesnil, and Roger of Beaumont and his sons Robert and Henry went to the king and besought him to be reconciled with his son. They explained that Robert had been led astray by the evil counsels of depraved youth—were the ‘depraved youth’ in question the ‘sons and brothers’ of our respectable negotiators?—that he now repented of his errors and acknowledged his fault and humbly implored the royal clemency. The king at first remained obdurate and complained bitterly against his son. His conduct, he declared, had been infamous. He had stirred up civil war and led away the very flower of the young nobility. He had also brought in the foreign enemy; and, had it been in his power, he would have armed the whole human race against his father! The barons, however, persisted in their efforts. Conferences were renewed. Bishops and other men of religion, among them St. Simon of Crépy,[52] an old friend and companion of the Conqueror, intervened to soften the king’s heart. The queen, too, and ambassadors from the king of France, and neighboring nobles who had entered the Conqueror’s service all added their solicitations. And “at last the stern prince, giving way to the entreaties of so many persons of rank, and moved also by natural affection, was reconciled with his son and those who had been leagued with him.” With the consent of the assembled barons he renewed to Robert the grant of the succession to Normandy after his death, upon the same conditions as he had granted it on a former occasion at Bonneville.[53]