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.”
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.