Robert Curthose Parts One and Two
Transcript:
Robert Curthose:
This week’s episode is Robert Curthose, Part One.
History is written by the winners, and Robert Curthose was not the winner. History knows him as Duke of Normandy, not king of England. His father overlooked his many talents and relegated him to occasionally witnessing charters, he also never arranged a marriage, which is usually unthinkable for a king with regard to his oldest child. His brothers had better timing and paid the chroniclers, so it’s not surprising that he isn’t well thought of. He will be imprisoned for more than 25 years, outlive his wife and beloved son. Events and history have not been kind to him. Through my reading though, I’ve really come to see that there is a more nuanced story to tell about Curthose. He was a brilliant negotiator, who helped bring peace between England and Scotland using his own skills and social contacts. Curthose’s time on Crusade, while a general event that isn’t looked on kindly today, show a man who was respected by his fellow nobles and knights, an aware strategist, and a deeply religious man. His piety actually cost him greatly at least once during his life. Because Robert is not the winner, history wasn’t written for him, which often makes finding out what really happened difficult. Even the events that are traditionally taken as fact may not be factual as they seem.
Like many born in this time period, no one knows exactly when Robert Curthose was born. He witnessed his first charter in 1051, as an infant. He was most likely born about nine months after his parents’ marriage. He was declared count of Normandy from birth. Robert’s parents would have two more sons, Richard and William Rufus, prior to 1066, but Curthose was clearly seen as his father’s heir. He was officially named such in 1063.
In 1066 Robert was at the most 15, almost old enough to lead troops, but probably not experienced enough. Had the battle been on home soil he probably would have been involved, but it would require a channel crossing and fighting on foreign soil. Leaving his son and heir in Normandy was a prudent decision, if anything had gone wrong Curthose would have been safe to take control of Normandy quickly. Matilda, would stay with him to act as regent and to advise her son if anything happened and he found himself duke. Had William died at Hastings instead of Harold, history would record Curthose’s young rule as a duke instead of his rebellions and loss of freedom. He wouldn’t even have needed to worry about one of his younger brothers, Henry I wasn’t born until 1068.
Like his sons, grandchildren, and most of all his great grandson William ruled his kingdom his way. He was unwilling to share control or give his oldest son any chance to prove himself. Curthose spent much of his teenage years in Normandy, it would have been a perfect chance for him to practice ruling, but William left Matilda of Flanders, who was a capable ruler in her own right, in charge. By not allowing the young man who would have seen ruling as his birthright any power William would have been setting his son up to feel useless. The usual histories give 1077 as the year that Curthose rebelled, dated by John of Worcester, but at least one of the versions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronical puts it at 1079, making it a much shorter rebellion and more of an argument than all-out war. Regardless of when it started the why is pretty well known. Curthose’s surviving younger brothers, William Rufus and Henry, threw foul-smelling liquid on him in public and were not corrected in their behaviour my their father. Curthose was enraged by his brothers’ treatment of him and probably hurt by his father’s lack of deference.
The rebellion itself came to nothing, but there are two interesting things that occurred during it. He was also financially supported by his mother (and her brother, Count Robert of Flanders) and this was a rare point of contention between his parents. While his mother would only see this as sending money to her son to support his health and survival, his father saw it as a small betrayal on the part of his wife. He did, of course, forgive her. During his rebellion Curthose also did something that no other person had done. He unhorsed his father, in fact he was going to attack him until he heard his voice. In what must have furthered William’s embarrassment Curthose ordered his father onto his own horse and off the field of battle. William was not used to taking orders from anyone. Matilda’s influence did eventually bring a reconciliation between father and son. By 1080 Curthose was back at court. During Easter court that year he and his parents received letters from Pope Gregory VII. Matilda’s told her she was doing well supporting the church and her people. William was told he needed to be more pious, and Curthose’s praised him for returning to his father and encouraged him to remain filial. During this year Curthose witnessed at least two charters.
At the end of 1080 Curthose helped his father with his biggest ongoing problem, Scotland. Years earlier, after the events of 1066 Curthose had become friends with a young Anglo-Saxon man of the same age, Edgar Aethling. Edgar had been declared king by the Witan after the death of Harold Godwinson at Hastings. William had allowed the young man to live when he stepped aside, granted him land and allowed him to remain in England. Edgar is a subject for another episode, literally, but his and Curthose’s friendship becomes very important here. Edgar was the brother-in-law of Malcolm III, the king of Scotland. By having the two young men handle negotiations William and Malcolm were able to come to an agreement. A border was decided and Malcolm would pay homage to William and his son for his lands in England. During this meeting Curthose also became godfather to Malcolm’s newest child, a daughter named Edith. On his return to London Curthose founded a castle, creatively named New Castle on the Tyne (Normans, great with nicknames, boring with place names).
Curthose is recorded being with his father over the next six years. They were together in 1083 when Matilda of Flanders passed in early November. There are some histories that state that father and son had a falling out at the time of her death, but there is evidence that Curthose witnessed charters well into 1086. Even though they were together, things were not going well between father and son. Without Matilda their personalities probably clashed more than usual. Curthose was probably hoping to be named Duke of Normandy since he was ready and could help govern that area allowing his father to focus on England.
French and Norman traditions usually awarded oldest sons the lands held by a father at the time of his ascension and the next son lands obtained throughout his reign. This would have been normal, but rarely did a man obtain an entire kingdom during his lifetime. According to tradition Curthose should have been given Normandy, Rufus would have received England, and Henry would have received money. As anyone would imagine this is not something that please Curthose. He was the oldest son, why would his father have bothered gaining a kingdom to give it to a younger son? The piece of evidence that William was planning on giving Rufus England is, shall we say, dubious. I’m getting a little ahead of myself, but this will make sense in a moment.
In 1087 history gets a little confusing. What is know is that Robert Curthose was upset at his father and allied with the French King, Philip I. Now, allaying with Philip isn’t as untoward as it would sound at first. Normandy was a vassal of France and owed homage to France. Curthose, as the heir to Normandy did need to maintain a good relationship with the French throne. Getting along well with the French king would help him when it came time to succeed to Normandy. However, his father did not see it this way, his son was rebelling again. In William’s defence, there are indications that Curthose was communicating and receiving support from his uncle, Robert of Flanders, who had assisted him with his first rebellion. Regardless of the facts William attacked the French Vexin, on the border with Normandy, in July. During this attack something struck him down, either his abdomen was injured by his pommel or he came down with an illness. William was taken back to Rouen, where he would die on the 9th of September 1087. There are two accounts of William’s death, one from Oderic Vitalis has long been acknowledges as based on stories he was told, he was not present at William’s death, at that time he was 12 years old and in England. The second account however will require a bit of detour to address and is central to the attempts to rehabilitate the image of Curthose.
Here enters the famous text ‘de obitu Willelmi’ (tu obit-e Will-el mi), or The Death of William, I will call it ‘the obit’ for ease. This text purports to be from the deathbed of William of Normandy. To describe this document as an indictment of Curthose would be an understatement. In it William has to be persuaded not to completely disinherit his oldest son. He agrees to give him Normandy since he had already promised it to Curthose, but he refuses to give him England. The text also doesn’t mention William’s youngest son, Henry Beuclerc, the future Henry I at all. Until 1956 it was thought to be a contemporaneous document, written within the years after William’s death by someone who was there. In that year though, two, completely independent, researchers noticed that passages had been taken from an earlier text, The Life of Charlemagne. Further research would show other parts are from a second text A Life of Louis the Pious. Yes, it appears that 11th century writers were forgetting to site their sources. An important question to ask at this point is who benefits the most from this text being taken as factual? If this was written based on William’s deathbed statements then why is much of it taken from two other texts? While William was more educated than most, his education was more martial and less academic, he could not read, it’s highly unlikely he was quoting earlier works on his deathbed. Remember, his youngest son’s nickname was a derision about his level of learning, since being able to read was something to tease a man about. The obit is attached to a much larger work
The supposed author of the obit is Symeon of Durham. The larger work that it’s attached to the (and I do apologise for this butchering) ‘Gesta Normannorum Ducum’ (Gest-a Nor man nor um dukum) or ‘The Deeds of the Norman Dukes’, I will call the full work ‘the deeds’ for simplicity and pronunciation sake. This larger work was originally written by William of Jumieges as a commission from William of Normandy. It was expanded on by Oderic Vitalis and Robert of Torigni, but their parts aren’t what we’ll be discussing. It’s important to know is that Symeon was not at William’s deathbed, he as most likely in England at the time. So, who was there that could have told him what happened? We know that none of his sons were there, Curthose was in France, no one had sent him news that his father was even dying. Rufus was either at a port on the French side of the channel or on a ship, leaving for England, he hadn’t even waited for his father to die before going to claim what he had wanted. Could one of Rufus’ men have forged the obit, to favour his master? And what made Rufus think he could get England, there were indications that William wanted England to go to Curthose. Yes, shocking, I know, but hear me out. Only Curthose had been given any title other than ‘knight’ at any point in his father’s lifetime. William’s two younger sons were usually referenced as ‘the kings sons’ while Curthose was referred to as ‘Count Robert’ in most court documents both before and after his rebellion. When Curthose negotiated a treaty with Scotland the Scottish king paid homage to William as king and his oldest son, not his other two. This comes up later when Rufus is negotiating again with Scotland, Curthose has to tell the Scottish king to accept Rufus as king. If another sovereign whom you’ve communicated with often is surprised by your decision to pick one son over the other it’s probably telling. Finally, and probably the biggest argument in favour of Curthose being William’s intended heir, the response of Lanfranc to Rufus’ claim of the throne.
Quick sidenote, Lanfranc was, at this time the Archbishop of Canterbury. He is a man in need of his own special episode, not the least because he is one of the few men who was ever willing to call William of Normandy out when his wants and ecclesiastical law didn’t mesh. He was actually sentenced to exile in the 1050s due to his objection to William’s marriage to Matilda, they patched things up before the sentence was carried out. He had been a member of WIlliam’s inner circle since deciding to ask the Pope Leo IX for dispensation for the earlier mentioned marriage. He was a brilliant and respected biblical scholar and teacher, and it helped William greatly in 1066 that one of Lanfranc’s friends and former students was pope Alexander II. Lanfranc was also politically aware and active. William used him for his contacts and because he was a trusted friend. Basically, he is someone who would have known William’s mind and probably had the best idea of his plans (mainly because the other person William trusted to this level, his brother Odo, was sitting in a Norman jail cell).
Prior to coming to Lanfranc to request a coronation Rufus went to Winchester. The Normans were very good at securing the royal treasury, it helps to have funds to back up the military strength one needs to use to be declared king during this time. The early Anglo-Normans struggled with their line of succession multiple times. Orderic Vitalis states that Rufus carried a letter dictated by William giving England to him, there are no other records of this letter, nor do any accounts of Rufus’ meeting Lanfranc make reference to a letter. However, there is a chance that this letter was actually the obit, a shrew piece of propaganda that supports Rufus as the rightful king and not his older brother. While we will never know if there was a letter given to Lanfranc we do know what Lanfranc thought of Rufus becoming king. First, Lanfranc was understandably shocked to hear his king was dead, he didn’t even know he was unwell. During this time Lanfranc would have been acting as something akin to William’s regent. He was equally surprised to hear that William wanted to divide his kingdom, this gives further indication that Curthose was expected to be heir. He may not have been a perfect son, but he was much more like his father than Rufus (though, Henry would end up being the most like their father of the three, he’ll get his time.
Eadmer of Canterbury, a monk in the service of Canterbury cathedral and the secretary to the archbishop recorded the reaction of Lanfranc to this news. I’m just going to read the full quote, both William of Normandy and William Rufus are referred to as William in the passage, but I think it’s clear enough who’s being spoken of to not change anything. Curthose is referred to as Robert, of course:
‘But how distressed Lanfranc was at this death, who could describe, when so great was the shock that we who were with him when the news of the King’s death came, were afraid he would die on the spot from anguish of heart.
So King William died and was succeeded to the throne by William his son. He, when he was intent on seizing the prize of the kingdom before his brother Robert, found Lanfranc, without whose support he could not possibly attain the throne, not altogether favourable to the fulfilment of this he desire. Accordingly, fearing any delay in his consecration might result in the loss of the dignity which he coveted, he began, both personally and indirectly by all whom he could get to support him, to make promises to Lanfranc with plighted word and oath, to the effect that if he were King, he would in all his dealing throughout the whole kingdom maintain justice, mercy, and equity; that he would defend the peace, liberty and security of the Churches against all adversaries; and that through all and in all he would follow Lanfranc’s bidding and counsel. But when he was once firmly established on the throne he turned his back on his promise.’
Did Lanfranc have any other reasons to crown Rufus? Other than his amazing level of distress there was a risk to Canterbury if he didn’t crown Rufus. The last two kings had been crowned by the archbishop of York. This was a challenge to the primacy of Canterbury, as the leading church in England. There is the possibility that Lanfranc was worried or knew that Rufus would go to York if he wasn’t crowned in Canterbury. In the two weeks between Rufus’ request and his coronation there was no word from Curthose. There are plenty of suggestions that the news was being kept from Curthose by Rufus, and history does show it took a long time for news to reach Curthose. It’s difficult to imagine the pressure Lanfranc was under. One of his closest friends, his king during a time when the church literally needed the protection of the crown, was dead. The power of his seat was under threat, and the only man there who could possibly take up the job was not the person the church wanted. Church historians are not kind to Rufus, usually in a way that is more entertaining to modern readers than the nastiness used towards Curthose, but he was defiantly not the church’s first choice. But he was what was there. Lanfranc decided to crown Rufus.
Curthose was unimpressed by this turn of events. Overthrowing an anointed king, especially ones brother was not an easy task. At first Curthose played nice, he supported his brother in negotiations with Scotland, even convincing Malcolm II to swear fealty to Rufus. Both brothers swore that the other would be their heir, neither even worried about Henry it seems. As part of taking over his dukedom Curthose followed the tradition of fulfilling his father’s final donations and releasing his political prisoners, these people had been verbally released by William, but his sons had to do the literal unlocking of the cell. Rufus would have done the same in England (though he chose not to release all his father’s political prisoners). The most important of these prisoners was Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux, Curthose’s uncle. William had imprisoned him for fraud, while Odo was a wealthy man due to his brother’s generosity he was also seeming in want of more. Odo was one of the great supporters of Curthose, preferring him to Rufus as king. The other two prisoners worth mentioning are Ulf, one of the surviving sons of Harold Godwinson, he disappears from history not long after this, one can imagine living a quiet life appealed. The other was Duncan, Malcolm of Scotland’s oldest son, he was knighted by Curthose and sent back to Scotland. Duncan would become king in 1094 for a very short time before being overthrown by his uncle.
After one year of Rufus’ rule some of the nobles were ready for a change. Curthose was not the instigator of this rebellion. The barons weren’t just looking for a change, they had good reason to want only one leader in England and Normandy. There was the potential that they would be put in the position of being beholden to two masters, who could want very different things. The leading nobles, lead by, tellingly, Odo of Bayeux and his brother Robert, Count of Mortain began a minor, but growing rebellion against Rufus. I find it very interesting that the leaders of this rebellion were the uncles of both the king and the duke. They had their choice of nephews and they picked Curthose. Of course histories, written during the time of Henry I will say it’s because they thought they could more easily control Curthose, but I think his next act will show us he wasn’t an easily led man. Curthose had some disadvantages in this rebellion, first, he would be invading, I would argue that there has only been one successful invasion of England since 1066, and it hardly counts since most of those fighting for the invading king were English and already in England (Battle of Bosworth if anyone is curious, please let me know if you disagree). Second, unlike his father, he would be battling his own brother, the Normans may have been fine with imprisoning their brothers, but actually killing them to take their throne was a bit bigger of a step. In the end the rebellion failed. Curthose was not willing to go to England to lead his troops or nobles and bad weather prevented his ships from landing. In all likelihood he wasn’t ready to take on his brother. Plus, it was well known at this point that Rufus was unlikely to take a wife or father any legitimate children or any at all for that matter. Rufus’ only recorded interest in marriage was a supposed visit to Wilton Abby to try to meet Edith, Malcolm of Scotland’s daughter and Curthose’s goddaughter. He was rebuffed and there are no other mentions of him looking for a wife. Curthose had Normandy and could wait until the time was right to try to take England. Another thing to remember in all of this is money. England and therefore Rufus had so much of it and Normandy did not have anywhere near as much. At the time of Rufus’ ascension the treasury had the equivalent of 20 years worth of taxes, Curthose had nothing in comparison. Normandy was comofortable, but not wealthy. William of Normandy hadn’t just gone there because it was his right, he went there for money. Curthose would have been acutely aware of this and it will come into play soon.
Curthose’s next act is the one I think shows us the measure of his character. Away from his brothers’ chroniclers the picture that emerges is a thoughtful, loyal man, ready to do his religious duty, and a good general who was respected by those traveling with him. I’m of course speaking of the first crusades. These days we don’t speak about waging holy war as something to be celebrated, but in the 11th century it was the thing to do. In November 1095 Pope Urban II began calling for a crusade to, well, to help wealthy, aristocratic men do something to save their souls. Pilgrimage to the holy land had been an ongoing thing for a millennium at this point, but most pilgrims travelled unarmed, in loosely-connected groups. Monks would often do this as part of their service. The crusades were planned as a completely different trip. Killing of non-believers was blessed, loot would be available in captured cities. Younger sons would have a chance to make their own name, plenty of these men would eventually stay, becoming the counts and princes of Jerusalem. There was the added benefit of assisting the Byzantine emperor with his ongoing Seljuk-Turk problems in Anatolia.
Finance around the crusades is almost as complicated as the politics around them. The years leading up to the First Crusade had not been kind to Normandy. Poor harvests had reduced tax income while also making feeding his people more difficult. Curthose did not have ready access to funds to support his cause. He did have a duchy though, which he was able to place in a vifgage, a form of mortgage where the holder of the debt maintains control of the collateral while waiting to be paid off. The funds produced while the collateral was held would be used to pay down the debt. Curthose would give Rufus power of Normandy while he was gone, repaying him on his return. Many writers have made it seem that Curthose was bad with money and this is why he needed to get funds from his brother, but it looks like he actually wanted to make sure not to overtax his subjects, and as a crusader his lands would be protected, at least theoretically, while he was gone. Rufus also had to tax England heavily to pay for his temporary control over Normandy. The protection of crusader lands and rights was meant to be promised by those either holding the lands for them or through their liege lord’s order.
And next week I will share Curthose’s life through the First Crusades and his return to Normandy, and into his final years. I’ll include my analysis. Before I sign off though I do want to discuss something that will be important next week, but doesn’t have a good place in this episode or even the next one. King Rufus’ relationship with the church. As many listeners will know already Rufus was not well-liked by the church. He would often avoid allowing appointments to ecclesiastical offices so that the state would receive the office-holder’s income while the see sat vacant. This was frowned upon not just due to the financial aspect, but the spiritual aspect. If people can’t have religious guidance because their local abbot or bishop is sitting vacant there was an actual fear for their immortal soul. Many today are not religious, and even those that are rarely profess their faith at this level, but this was a very serious charge at the time. Rufus’ other church failing was his regular arguments with Lanfranc and ignoring the archbishop’s advice. Upon Lanfranc’s death Rufus left the archbishopric vacant for four years before Anselm was appointed. His relationship with Anselm wasn’t any better and the archbishop was exiled in 1097, this also allowed Rufus to take the funds from the church, as though it were vacant. While Rufus isn’t the only king to argue with the church, he didn’t seem to rely on his own chroniclers, unlike Henry, so church chroniclers do not look kindly on him. I will cover more about these arguments between church and state in a year or two’s time, when I do the year of the anit-popes. Included in that series will be episodes about the politics surrounding these men.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this first full episode. Please share any feedback you have, I really look forward to hearing from my listeners. Thank you for taking the time to listen.
This week’s episode is Robert Curthose Part II
We left our story last week as Curthose was preparing to leave for the First Crusades, I thought I’d give you a short recap. Robert Curthose was the oldest son of William of Normandy who had been usurped or passed over in 1087 by his younger brother, William Rufus. His failed rebellion in 1088 lead to the brothers declaring each other their heir, and in 1096 Curthose began preparing to join the pilgrimage that would become the First Crusade.
Curthose and his army of 6,000 departed in September of 1096. Most of the journey would be done on foot or horseback at a slow pace. Some who travelled with the army did so to get to various cities, including Rome, under the protection of their troops. Not everyone was going to fight. Pack animals, war horses, livestock, and people move slowly, even along well-maintained roads, and they would not be getting to those for a while. Counts Stephen of Blois and Robert of Flanders, Curthose’s brother-in-law and cousin respectively, joined his group in Pontarlier. From here the larger group would travel over the alps. This portion of the journey was very dangerous due to extreme cold. Less than 150 years earlier, Aelfsige, the Archbishop of Canterbury froze to death crossing the Alps due to mistiming his trip. It does appear the crusaders planned their crossing well, the route they travelled was one of the safer ones and had access to hostels along the crossing. In mid-October they reached Lucca and were met by Pope Urban. Curthose and the other leaders received his personal blessing and they would all reach Rome by mid-December. I will cover the situation in Rome at this time in my year of the Anti-Popes, but to describe it as a mess would be an understatement. The pope couldn’t even get into St. Peters, due to the anti-pope having taken up residence there. From Rome Curthose’s group would continue south to Bari, a coastal city and the crossing point to the Balkans where the Byzantines would be waiting to escort crusaders to Constantinople. In Bari the larger Norman and French Army was joined by a smaller, southern Norman army made up of the Normans of Sicily, led by Bohemond of Taranto (Bohemond’s birth name was Mark, but the sobriquet was fitting, he was an actual giant of a man).
Prior to Curthose’s arrival Hugh of France, the brother of King Philip I of France had crossed, losing many ships in the process and barely making it himself. Curthose, Stephen, and Bohemond, who of the three knew the area the best, decided to wait until spring to make the crossing. Their decision wasn’t lazy or cowardly as chroniclers have suggested, it was prudent, and the local sailors did not want to take any further trips. There are probably two reasons chroniclers would use this as a chance to take a shot at Curthose, first Robert of Flanders was able to pay the locals enough for them to take him across and was successful. The second is who stayed behind with him, Count Stephen’s later actions will not reflect well on him, his family, or his companions, but no one knew that at this time. Having a coward for a companion is never a good look, even if you don’t know they’re a coward at the time.
Over winter Curthose likely spent time with a local count, Geoffrey of Conversano and his daughter, Sibyl. His enjoyment in making this lady’s acquaintance would have been tempered by the loss of his uncle. Odo died after a brief illness in Sicily.
In April 1097 Curthose’s army along with his fellow Normans and Stephen reached Durazzo. They were escorted along the Via Egnatia and reached Constantinople in mid-May. It appears that overwintering had been a good call. Other than Hugh’s disastrous sea journey, the army under Raymond of Toulouse was dealing with a breakdown in discipline and fighting with their host’s forces after a difficult overland crossing in winter.
The emperor, Alexius I, had appealed for the Crusades to come help protect his city and, in moving to take back Jerusalem, take some pressure off his empire on the Anatolian side of the Bosphorus. He didn’t seem to realise that calling for thousands of armed men to come help his cause would mean there would be thousands of armed men in his capital. The movement of men from the European side of his capital, to the Asian became a carefully choreographed dance to keep rival leaders away from each other less fights break out and allies from joining up against him. Alexius would meet with each army’s leaders while the men would camp outside of the walls, being escorted in as needed in small groups. Oaths would be given and gifts exchanged. Curthose did spend a bit longer with Alexius, William’s son is regularly described as friendly, personable, and easygoing by all historians. Once these pleasantries were over Alexius would ship the armies across to Anatolia to begin their actual crusading. Alexius’ decision to keep armed men out of his city and to send them on their way as quickly as possible was a smart one, as the fourth crusades will show.
Quick interjection here, I really don’t like discussing battles. I find troop movements, the taking of battlements, skirmishes super boring. I know some people love to talk about all the details of a battle, but that’s not for me. So, I will be giving a general outline of events without going into the finer details. If you’re interested in a show about the battles I skip over let me know. I’ll convince my husband to start one if we get enough interest.
By June Curthose and the other leaders had formed up outside of Nicea. They numbered up to 60,000. The city was taken by mid-June. From there the army would cross Anatolia. Their timing was pretty poor, while not a dessert in the constantly hot sense Anatolia is known for its extreme summer heat and dryness. Water and food was not always easy to come by, in addition to the weather the crusaders were dealing with an area of extreme elevation changes. They followed the inland route and there were regular skirmishes with the Turks in the area as would be expected when invading.
The politics of the Crusades is something we rightly look down on today. To most secular individuals in modern times the idea is appalling, but at this time it was a holy mission. It’s also important to remember that while most Turks, in Anatolia, and Fatimids, in Jerusalem, were Muslim many of the citizens of smaller cities along the route were still Christian. Larger cities often had a mixed population that included Jews. There were cities that opened their gates for Crusaders and even those who killed their garrisons to help the Crusaders. The trip through Anatolia was long and the city of Antioch wasn’t even taken until June 1098. The day before it was taken Stephen of Blois fled to the coast, deserting his men and his holy vows. He would eventually be excommunicated, his sentence not being lifted until he joined the Second Crusade and fulfilled his vows. On the 3rd of June Bohemond, Robert of Flanders, and Curthose planned and led the attack that would take the city. Following this win they themselves would be besieged for three weeks until they finally held the city decisively.
The crusaders stayed in the city until January 1099, resting through summer, autumn, and the start of winter to recuperate from their hard slog was a good idea. On their way to Jerusalem they were able to trade with local tribes. They were also able to get sea support from other crusaders. This support would be crucial for the siege of Jerusalem. From these support ships the crusaders were able to get the supplies for siege towers. The siege lasted from the 7th of June to the 15th of July. As many of you know the taking a Jerusalem was completed with the bloody slaughter of most of its Muslim and many of its Jewish inhabitants.
There was a story of Curthose being offered the crown of Jerusalem but turning it down due to laziness. Based on everything I’ve shared about him I don’t think laziness was a problem, maybe a bit too much piety and bad timing. He was never offered the crown and in August began his trip home. He reached Conversano by winter. At 50 he finally found a worthy bride. Now, Curthose hadn’t been a chaste man, he had at least three illegitimate children, but he hadn’t had luck in the marriage department. With Sibyl of Conversano he found someone who was available to marry him and by all accounts beautiful, intellegent, and kind. Her father also offered a dowry worthy of a son of William. Curthose would have the funds to pay his brother back. His claim to England would be made stronger once he and Sibyl had children, since Rufus was not one to marry.
Rufus and Henry received the news that their brother was returning in the summer of 1100. They would not have been pleased. Curthose would be returning a crusading hero. Plus, he had the funds he needed to secure Normandy. Henry could probably see his chances of any inheritance slipping away. But unlike his brothers Henry had great timing and was very lucky. On August 2nd 1100 William Rufus was killed in the New Forest. The details are fuzzy, mainly because everyone of note who was present literally ran away after the event. Rufus was either hit by a misaimed arrow or fell onto one lodged in the ground.
Henry followed what was about to become Norman tradition and rode to Winchester, securing the treasury. Much like Rufus before him and Stephen after him, Henry used his hold on the treasury to secure the throne. Lanfranc had been dead for more than a decade, but Rufus had appointed a successor (one of the few ecclesiastical appointments he made). Anselm, his successor though, had been exiled to France after one of his and Rufus’ arguments. Henry might have been worried, his oldest brother could appear at any moment, or worse, he could have found Anselm on the continent and gotten himself crowned there. Henry wasn’t taking any chances. He rode 110 km to London in less than 24 hours. He quickly assembled the available barons, not the leading ones, just the ones he could find. He then convinced Bishop Maurice, the Bishop of London to crown him, not even waiting for the other Archbishop, in York, to get to London. Henry managed to take the kingdom in only three days. To further protect his claim he told Anselm to avoid Normandy on his return to England.
Curthose would return to Normandy a respected crusader, married to an amazing woman, ready to rule his duchy only to find out his younger brother had beat him to England again. Even worse, Curthose had many supporters in England, who would have pushed for his cause, but Henry’s swift action prevented anyone from stepping in until the deed was already done. The anointing of a king also provides him protection in cannon law, it became a religious violation to overthrow him without ecclesiastical dispensation. But in many ways Henry’s betrayal was just as illegal in cannon law.
This wasn’t the same thing as Rufus had done 12 years earlier. This was a violation of Henry’s oath made as a witness to Rufus and Curthose’s 1088 treaty and the expectation to protect the rights of crusaders when they were away. One of Curthose’s rights was as the heir of Rufus. If becoming the king of England was really about who could get to Winchester first and persuading the ranking bishop to crown you, then any descendant of William of Normandy can race for the kingship. This will end up hurting those that Henry cares for greatly, as we’ll see in Matilda’s episodes.
I need to step out from Curthose’s narrative to speak about Henry exclusively for a few moments. Their stories will be intertwined for almost the rest of their lives at this point. Henry’s propaganda around his ascension looks like the invention of PR. Claiming the barons ‘elected’ him, like and Anglo-Norman witan was honestly humours, sure, if we only count the barons that were in the room when it happened. A witan was a publicly occurring event, that the leading ealdermen knew would be happening in advance. His second ‘claim’ was that he was the only son who had been ‘born’ in the purple. An idea that had no support in the inheritance law of the Franks, Norse, or English. Porphyrogeniture was a little-used practice in the Byzantine empire. It was usually used as an excuse to pass over older sons from an earlier marriage in favour of younger sons of the current empress. Usually those older sons would also be disfigured in some way, cutting of the nose was a notable favourite. This was not something that he pressed multiple times.
Henry’s choice in bride was an actual stroke of genius. These days we prefer to marry for love, or at least like, but marriages of kings in this time were political matches and there was no woman with more political clout that Edith of Scotland. She was the oldest daughter of Malcolm III of Scotland and St. Margaret of Wessex. Margaret’s ancestors were the kings of England before 1066, her grandfather was Edmund Ironside, she was a direct descendant of Alfred the Great. By marrying Edith, who would change her name to Matilda, I’ll refer to her as Edith-Matilda in this and future episodes, Henry was able to ‘graft’ the Anglo-Saxon tree onto the Norman tree. His Anglo-Saxon subjects, still the majority of his populace would have been pleased with this return of the royal house of Wessex. Her marriage would also help secure the borders with Scotland, she was the sister of the current and the future kings of Scotland, her brother, David, even spent much of his youth in Henry’s court. Finally, and most importantly for Curthose, he was his goddaughter. Curthose was a crusader and a pious man, who took his vows seriously. Protecting one’s godchildren was a sacred duty.
Unlike his attempt to take England from Rufas Curthose’s plans to get it from Henry were better organised, He also had even more support this time. All of this Norman barons, and most of the English barons were behind him (or in England waiting for him). They were also able to keep their plans secret until their ships launched.
Henry may not have known there were actual plans in the works, but he wasn’t a stupid man. He knew his brother couldn’t have been happy, and he knew that the rebellion in 1088 had only not succeeded because the conspirators talked. With no one talking he must have been worried. Henry was a more calculating man than either of his brothers, one of his calculation was that Winchester needed to be secure. He appointed William Giffard, his chancellor to the bishopric Even with this loyal appointment Henry would have lost the kingdom if not for another churchman. Anselm, the almost 70 year old Archbishop of Canterbury had returned to England at Henry’s request. His presents would be pivotal in the coming weeks.
Curthose, his leading Norman barons and knights, and more than 200 ships left Normandy on the 20th of July 1101. On their way they were intercepted by a flotilla, sent from England to stop them, instead the men were convinced to change sides and join Curthose. Curthose wasn’t going to subjugate the people of England, he was seen as their rightful king. He reached Winchester with minimal resistance, it really was looking as though nothing could stop him, Henry certainly wasn’t going to manage it. Taking Winchester would have meant controlling the funds, more nobles would have left Henry’s side if it weren’t in his control. But, either by planning or luck there was something to stop Curthose in Winchester. His goddaughter, Edith-Matilda. Curthose was, as I’ve mentioned many time, a pious and chivalrous man, attacking pregnant women whom you’ve sworn to protect was not in his nature or practice. Based on the date of her daughter’s birth, Edith-Matilda would have been about four months along, so this would have been public knowledge. It’s important to remember that Edith-Matilda was also the niece of one of Curthose’s closest friends, causing her injury or worse to miscarry would have had grave personal, and political consequences. Curthose would no doubt regret his noble behaviour and loyalty to honour, I don’t know if Henry would have treated Curthose’s wife so well. He chose to remain outside of the walls of Winchester and await the arrival of Henry and his forces. His pause may also have been caused by his hope to avoid bloodshed with his own brother. Attack a king who isn’t related is one thing, trying to kill your own brother is another.
Henry and his men arrived with there one trump card, Anselm. While Anselm may have preferred the former crusader as king he needed to uphold cannon law. Henry had been anointed, a process which renders the anointee closer to god, to almost saintly order. Anselm would not support the usurpation of an anointed king without an ecclesiastical cause, and Henry hadn’t given him one (yet, sadly Henry’s timing was always good). While Rufus had always ignored the church and taken their money without pause, Henry had to good sense to keep the church on side when he needed it. Curthose would not continue his rebellion in the face of excommunication.
The brothers were able to negotiate. Recognising each other as heir in absence of a legitimate son, Curthose surprisingly won that race by ten months, since the child his goddaughter was carrying was a girl, the future Empress Matilda. Henry was to release all his Norman possessions and pay Curthose a pension of 3,000 silver marks per year, more than 1/10th of the royal income a year. The lands of the dispossessed barons on each side of the channel were to be restored, Curthose had less restoring to do than Henry.
After agreeing to terms the brothers went to London together and Curthose would remain in his brother’s court until September, returning to Normandy after Michaelmas. It looked so promising, but sadly it would not end well.
Curthose and Sibyl would welcome their only child, WIlliam Clito on the 26th of October 1102. Clito is a derivative of prince and the sobriquet he was most known by. His cousin William Adelin would be born ten months later (this is why I and historians for the last 900 years, have had to use nicknames for this family, it’s William, Matilda, and Roberts everywhere). Sadly for Cuthose and Clito Sibyl would die less than six months after the birth of her son. Some said she was poisoned and that Curthose was in on it, but it’s highly unlikely. Most likely she died due to any of the number of post-pregnancy infections that women died of prior to antibiotics, most scholars think mastitis becoming septic is the likely cause. The chroniclers were really on Henry’s payroll and they seemed intent of making Curthose the bad guy.
Over the next years there were many minor skirmishes in Normandy and political theatre on both sides of the channel while the brothers fought a cold war against each other. Henry’s political acumen was obvious throughout, he would happily ignore portions of their treaty while reminding Curthose of his own obligations under it. William of Malmesbury, in a moment of candour states ‘Henry made promises with no intention of keeping them’. Finally in 1106, forty years to the day after their father invaded England Henry would defeat and capture his brother at the battle of Tinchebray. After this loss Curthose would be paraded around Normandy before being take to England for noble confinement. Historians are not sure of the facts surrounding Curthose’s son, Clito, who was four at this time. Some claim that Henry, in a rare moment of having a heart, allowed his nephew to escape with his guardian’s Clito’s half-sister, I cannot find a name for her, but she was just a woman and a bastard, and her husband, Helias of Saint Saens. Others state that he was outfoxed by Curthose’s supporters who races ahead of Henry’s forces to warn Helias and get the boy to safety. Helias will remain loyal to Clito for the remainder of the boy’s life. Clito and his loyal brother-in-law would continue pressing his father’s claims. But William of Normandy’s oldest son would spend the rest of his life in comfortable imprisonment.
He would learn Welsh, at least well enough to write poetry. He had a good relationship with his jailer, Roger of Salsbury, which isn’t surprising, Curthose was a personable man, and it appears that Henry did nothing to physically harm his brother.
I’ll come back to Curthose towards the end of this, but I need to leave him for now. Clito, carrying on his father’s and now his own cause is a tragic story that need looked at.
Helias and his sister kept him safe and he was well educated and trained as a knight. Clito had the support of many Norman nobles and the new French King, Loius VI, still young and not known by the sobriquet ‘the fat’ yet. Don’t think for a moment that Loius’ support was out of the goodness of his heart. He didn’t want a powerful opponent to be a large landholder in his country. Loius was the first king of the Franks to successfully begin the process of taking back central French control of French territory. Having Clito, a man who owed him allegiance, as the duke of Normandy and possibly the king of England was much more appealing that having Henry there. Remember, Normandy is a vassal to France, theoretically the Norman duke owes allegiance to the French king. While in fact it would take the removal of the English kings as dukes of Normandy to make Normandy French, Loius was starting the process here. This support meant that Henry’s hold on Normandy was never very secure. He regularly had to deal with uprisings and border disputes.
Henry did better than most would have done in the same situation. By using his English income he was able to arm and man his Norman armies. He was also able to marry his amazing number of illegitimate children off to cement alliances with minor leaders of border regions. To further protect himself he arranged the betrothal of his son, Adelin, to Matilda the daughter of Fulk, the count of Anjou a territory that caused him endless problems. Well into 1120 it looked like Henry would have his house in order and Clito would just be a footnote in history, the son of the former duke of Normandy who was cared for by his wealthy relations. Henry even managed to have Adelin recognised as heir designate of Normandy, having his son swear fealty to Loius, and taking away that support from Clito. But history does not care about the plans you’ve made, and on the 25th of November it reminded Henry that he didn’t have as much control as he thought. That night the White Ship, carrying Adelin, and two of Henry’s illegitimate children, along with many of the young adult heirs of many powerful barons and knights in his kingdom sunk. Don’t drink and boat, the older members of the aristocracy and the very young were on other ships, but the White Ship had turned into a party ship before it left port. I cover more of this disaster and its impact on Henry’s plans in Empress Matilda’s episodes, so I’ll leave that story there.
For Clito though, this disaster was a stroke of luck. According to the treaty Curthose and Henry had signed Curthose was again Henry’s heir. As his father’s only heir this meant Clito’s star was again rising. The nobles who had recently agreed to support Henry came back to his side. Louis was happy to give him his support again. Finally, he was able to arrange a marriage to Sibylla of Anjou, the sister of Adelin’s widow in 1123. The bride was too young to consummate the marriage, but Clito was still a young man himself and in no rush. He now had the support of the French, Anjou, and many of the leaders in Normandy. Henry acted quickly to take some of the wind out of his sails (too early for sailing jokes?). In an amazing display of hypocrisy Henry, well, bribed the pope to annul Clito’s marriage on the grounds of Consanguinity. His argument was that the couple were too closely related via their shared ancestors Geoffry I of Anjou and his wife Adele of Meaux (Mo), the parents of Clito’s great-great-grandmother Ermengarde-Gerberga of Anjou and her brother, Fulk III of Anjou, Sibylla’s great-great-grandfather. Yes, that would be the same shared ancestors that William Adelin and Sibylla’s sister had and the same that Geoffrey of Anjou and Matilda will have.
Henry was good at throwing money at problems. He continued this in 1127. This year Clito was given land in the French Vexin by Loius, a new bride, Louis sister-in-law, and in March that year Louis gave him Flanders. Now, Clito was one of the many heirs to the county, but having his indebted friend holding the contentious county would help Louis, so he was willing to send a small army there to make it happen. Henry used his funds to insight Clito’s rivals to rebel and to assist leading citizens to rise up. Clito was forced to battle to maintain his county. He actually was doing very well. Like his father he was good at leading troops and at military strategy. By July 1128 Clito was retaking Flanders and had vanquished his strongest rival claimant. But on the 12th he was injured in Aalst, a wound to his arm during a minor scuffle became infected. This infection turned gangrenous and on the 28th, at only 25 years old Clito died with Helias by his side. Between the time of his injury and his death he managed to write his uncle letters requesting the pardon of his men. He was postumously enrolled as monk at the abbey of St. Bertin where we was buried. His uncle followed through on his final request and Clito’s loyal soldiers either went to England to serve Henry or went to the Holy Land on crusade.
The night his son died Curthose is said to have dreamt of Clito’s death, no one would have known of his passing in England yet. Oderic Vitalis says he resigned himself to his dream being fact and was not surprised when news reached him weeks later. Curthose would live for six more years, well into his 80s. He dies less than two years before his much younger brother.
Analysis:
The simple question of this series is meant to be would the passed be a better leader than the person they were replaced with? So, would Curthose have been a better king than Rufus or Henry? I think the answer to Rufus is yes. Hands down, Curthose kept his promises and was both a valiant military leader and a pious man, two things that were often difficult to manage at the same time. He also appears to have governed Normandy well during the time he was in charge. Rufus has his own PR problem, mainly due to his difficulty with the church, but he really wasn’t that impressive of a king. Had Curthose’s rebellion in 1088 succeeded and Rufus place in regal prison until his death from old age I think England would have been governed well by Curthose. The answer to Henry is maybe yes, maybe no. It would have been very different. Henry was a much more willie character than either of his brothers. He was willing to lie to your face if it would get him what he wanted. He was also a brilliant civil leader, his updates to the English system of taxation and governance are still discussed today. But in 1100 I don’t think anyone knew what Henry would eventually become. He had spent time in his older brother’s court, but he was an unknown. The barons rebelling against him was not surprising at all, they knew Curthose and respected him. Curthose was also much more collaborative, and would have probably been more collaborative and conciliatory in his ruling. Henry’s iron will held things together until it wasn’t there to hold things together. Avoiding the Anarchy would have been a gift to the general subjects of England. Henry II followed in his grandfather’s footsteps as a controlling king, who through force of personality and will held together his empire, which began to fall apart as soon as he died. Perhaps parliamentary power, at least for the lords, would have come about earlier and more peacefully under Curthose and Clito. The baron’s wars and the entire debacle that was Henry III’s rule could have been avoided.
Clito presents another interesting point in the story. Had Henry not been trying to undermine him his death at 25 would not have been likely. Clito and Curthose also had something Henry does seem to lack, charisma. Henry was an amazing king, but he often forced his barons and churchmen to do what he wanted, he didn’t inspire the loyalty his brother and nephew did. Their men were loyal and while politics got in the way at times, kings were willing to drop Henry quickly for them. Stephen would have likely not have been able to take England if Clito had been Henry’s heir. Even if Clito never had children and just acted as a historical stand-in until Henry II was an adult England would have most likely been much better off. The Anarchy, as I’ll discuss more over the next three episodes, was disastrous for the economy and welfare of England. It benefitted no one except England’s enemies. I think Henry made a grave, purely emotional, and selfish mistake by not supporting his nephew as his heir, more than even Anselm made supporting Henry over Curthose. Granted, Henry didn’t have 900 years of hindsight and as many years of political philosophy to help guide him. He didn’t know that his ultimate goal should have been to rule for the people he ruled over, not for the glory of his own house and name. I’d like to think we’ve changed since then, but with world events we’re living through I don’t know.
My sources, other than the chroniclers, for these episodes have been Katherine Lack, her book Conqueror’s Son presents a rehabilitative thesis of Curthose and was invaluable. Thomas Asbridge’s The First Crusades was helpful when discussing the Crusades.
Next week, Empress Matilda, Part I. She’s made a few minor appearances in her uncle’s story, but her story is huge. It will actually be divided into three episodes to avoid going too long for each. And this brings me to an important question for you, my listeners. How are you feeling about the length of these episodes? My goal is to keep the intro episode to no more than 20 minutes, and the subject episodes to 30 minutes or less. Would you prefer longer or shorter? I’m really welcome to any feedback, I want to make this show enjoyable for you, the listener.
I would as always like to thank you the listener. Rex Factor and Mike Duncan for inspiring me, and Phillip. Thank you all again.
