Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy

by Charles W. David

While Robert Curthose was loitering in southern Italy, enjoying the hospitality of Norman friends and kinsmen, events of immense importance for him were taking place beyond the Alps. On 2 August 1100 William Rufus was slain while hunting in the New Forest.[1] News of the tragedy quickly reached the ears of Henry Beauclerc, his younger brother, who was a member of the royal party; and without a moment’s delay he put spurs to his horse and galloped away to Winchester, the seat of the royal treasury, and as lawful heir (genuinus haeres) imperiously demanded the keys of the keepers. But the interests and the superior claims of Robert Curthose did not go undefended in that hour. William of Breteuil, son of William Fitz Osbern, had also been a member of the king’s hunting party; and foreseeing Henry’s design, he had ridden hard upon his heels to Winchester. Arriving upon the scene before Henry had gained possession of the treasure, he protested that Robert’s rights should be respected. Robert, he declared, was beyond a doubt the Conqueror’s eldest son; Henry had done him homage and sworn fealty to him as his lord; Robert had long labored in the Lord’s service on the Crusade; and now God was restoring to him, as if by miracle, the duchy which he had relinquished for the love of Heaven. But Henry was not to be balked in his purpose by any such scruples. The crowd which had gathered to witness the altercation clearly favored “the present heir who was claiming his right”; and with such encouragement, Henry drew his sword and exclaimed that he would never permit a “foreigner,” through “frivolous delays,” to anticipate him in grasping the sceptre of his father. Then friends and prudent counsellors intervened to allay the dissensions, and, without any serious rupture, the supporters of the duke gave way, and the castle and the royal hoard were handed over to Henry.[2] In that moment Robert Curthose lost a kingdom.

The rapidity with which events now moved forward, and the intelligence and sureness of judgment which were introduced into the direction of affairs, are highly indicative of the character and determination of the man who had grasped the helm. “On Thursday he [William Rufus] was slain, and on the morning after buried; and after he was buried, those of the council who were nigh at hand chose his brother Henry for king; and he straightways gave the bishopric of Winchester to William Giffard, and then went to London; and on the Sunday after, before the altar at Westminster, promised to God and all the people to put down all the injustices that were in his brother’s time; and to maintain the best laws that stood in any king’s day before him. And then, after that, the bishop of London, Maurice, hallowed him king; and all in this land submitted to him and swore oaths and became his men.”[3] “And that nothing might be wanting to the aggregate of happiness, Ranulf, the dregs of iniquity, was cast into the gloom of a prison, and speedy messengers were despatched to recall Anselm.”[4] The news of the king’s death had, it may be supposed, taken Henry entirely unawares. Yet within less than four days he had surmounted all the difficulties connected with the seizure of the kingdom and had sketched out the programme of a reign. To Robert’s claim of primogeniture he had opposed the fact that he alone had been born within the realm of England and the son of a king and queen.[5] The very real argument that Robert was still far away, and that his return could not be awaited without grave peril to the nation, was also doubtless used with telling effect.[6] The appointment of William Giffard to the vacant see of Winchester, the recall of Anselm, and the imprisonment of the infamous Ranulf Flambard, the chief oppressor of the late reign, were all measures calculated to announce in unmistakable terms to church and clergy that the evils from which they had suffered under William Rufus were at an end.[7] And the issue of the famous Charter of Liberties, in direct connection with the coronation, was a proclamation to the nation that better days were at hand.[8] Its publication in the counties must in some cases have brought almost the first news of the tyrant’s death and of the inauguration of the new reign. But not content with these measures, Henry took another step well calculated to strengthen his hold upon the affections of his English subjects. Giving up ‘meretricious pleasures,’ he married Matilda, “daughter of Malcolm, king of Scotland, and of the good queen Margaret, King Edward’s kinswoman, of the true royal line of England.”[9] The marriage was solemnized on Martinmas (11 November). At Christmas, Henry gained the tacit recognition of his royal title among the crowned heads of Europe. With King Philip’s full permission, Louis, the king designate of France, paid him a state visit with a distinguished suite, and was received with fitting honors at Westminster.[10] But this was not only an indication that Henry had been received into the society of kings, it was an earnest of the cordial relations which were to prevail between the French and English courts until the critical years of the new reign had passed. The triumph of Henry’s clear-cut, far-seeing policy could hardly have been more complete. There were rocks ahead, but at least he had made the vessel seaworthy, and with firm and careful steering he might hope to avoid all perils.

Henry I had good reason for acting with precipitate haste in making sure his hold upon the English crown, for the rumor ran that his elder brother was returning from Italy, and was already close at hand. The king had well grounded fears that unless he made his position absolutely secure the English barons might repent of their decision and withdraw their allegiance.[11]

Robert Curthose was probably already on his way home from southern Italy when William Rufus came to his tragic end in the New Forest. Late in August, or early in September,[12] he arrived in Normandy with his newly won bride, the beautiful Sibyl of Conversano, and was joyfully welcomed by his subjects.[13] Without encountering any opposition, he entered into full possession of his duchy,[14] “except the castles which were occupied by King Henry’s men, against which he had many onsets and contests.”[15]

There were many reasons for the cordial welcome which Normandy extended her duke upon his return from the Crusade. The old evils and abuses of his earlier reign had doubtless largely been forgotten, while the rule of William Rufus, who had “trampled Normandy under his feet”[16] by reason of his warlike undertakings and the extreme rigor of his justice,[17] had prepared men’s minds for a milder régime. Robert’s long labors in the Holy War had brought him much prestige and made him a European figure. The charms of his fair Italian bride[18] struck the imagination of the people. Moreover, the death of the late king had been followed by a fresh outburst of private war in Normandy;[19] and the return of the legitimate duke, ‘as if by miracle,’ offered at least a hope of the restoration of peace and order. But most important of all, the critical state of English affairs left Henry I no time or resources to turn his attention to the Continent; and, except in so far as his garrisons might still hold out at Domfront and in the Cotentin, he was powerless to prevent the restoration.

If Robert’s absence during the critical days of early August had been fatal to his cause in England, the unexpected death of the late king had nevertheless been his rare good fortune, so far as the recovery of Normandy was concerned. Men saw in it the hand of God exercised on behalf of the crusader.[20] Probably William Rufus had never intended to restore the Norman duchy upon Robert’s return from the Crusade.[21] In any case, Robert could not have hoped to recover it except by repayment of the loan for which it had been pledged. Indeed, we know that while in Italy, by means of his wife’s dowry and through the gifts of friends, he had taken pains to provide himself with funds for the redemption of the duchy.[22] But the tragedy in the New Forest had obviated this unpleasant necessity. Joyfully welcomed home, the weary crusader entered into possession of his dominions without the repayment of a single penny.

Robert’s first acts upon his return to Normandy are eminently characteristic, and they contrast strangely with the unparallelled energy and decision with which Henry was pressing forward to his goal in England. Far from giving his undivided attention to the grave problems of his distracted state, he went with his wife on pilgrimage to Mont-Saint-Michel to render thanks to God and the archangel for his safe return from the Crusade.[23] Then, if Wace may be trusted, he went to Caen to visit his sister, Abbess Cecilia of La Trinité, and presented her church with a splendid Saracen banner which he had captured in the Holy War.[24]

While Robert was indulging in devotions and ceremonial and Henry was absorbed in the affairs of his kingdom, events in Maine were rapidly approaching a crisis which was to prove fatal to Norman dominion in the county. During Robert’s absence on the Crusade, William Rufus had reasserted with the utmost vigor, but with questionable success, the Norman claim to rule in Maine. Against him Helias of La Flèche had maintained a stubborn resistance. And although towards the end of the Red King’s reign he had been forced to retire beyond the frontier into his own strongholds farther south, no sooner did he receive word of the king’s death than he pushed forward again and recovered Le Mans. But the citadel with its Norman garrison still held out against him, and, obtaining reënforcements from Fulk le Réchin, his Angevin overlord, Helias began to besiege it.

The events which followed are a perfect illustration of the prevailing ideas of the feudal age. The commanders of the Norman garrison had been set to guard the castle of Le Mans by their lord, William Rufus, who was now dead. And there was a question as to who was his legitimate successor, and, therefore, as to whom they now owed allegiance. Obtaining a truce from Helias, they sent to both Robert and Henry to seek aid or instructions. Going first to Robert, their messenger found him “broken by the hardships of his long pilgrimage, and preferring the quiet of the couch to warlike exertions.” The plight of the Norman garrison at Le Mans and the prospective loss of a county moved him little. “I am wearied with long labor,” he is reported to have said, “and my duchy of Normandy is enough for me. Moreover, the barons of England are inviting me to cross the sea and are prepared to receive me as their king.” Robert, therefore, advised the commanders of the garrison to make an honorable peace. Getting no satisfaction from the duke, the envoy hastened to England to ask aid of the king. But Henry was engrossed in the affairs of his realm—which Robert’s return had rendered critical—and he prudently decided not to embark upon a hazardous foreign enterprise at that time. He thanked the Norman commanders at Le Mans for their loyalty and consideration, but sent their messenger away empty. And when they had thus “laudably proved their fidelity,” they surrendered the citadel to Helias of La Flèche, late in October, and marched out with the honors of war.[25]