Chapter IV: Anjou and Normandy (3)

It was a triumphant day for Fulk; but more triumphant still was the day when he and Geoffrey brought the new countess home to Angers. A large part of the barons and prelates who filled S. Julian’s minster on the wedding-day were Normans who in their inmost souls viewed with mingled rage and shame what they held to be the degradation of the Norman ducal house; a large part of the crowd who with their lips cheered the bridal procession as it passed through the streets of Le Mans were all the while cursing in their hearts the Angevin foe of Normandy.[618] But in Fulk’s own capital the rejoicings were universal and unalloyed. Many a brilliant match had been made by the house of Anjou, from that wedding with the heiress of Amboise which had been the beginning of its founder’s fortunes, down to Fulk’s own marriage, only seventeen years ago, with Aremburg of Maine; but never before had Black Angers welcomed such a bride as King Henry’s daughter. A writer of the next generation has left us a picture of Angers as it was in his days--days when the son of Geoffrey and Matilda was king of England and count of Anjou. In its main features that picture is almost as true a likeness now as it can have been seven hundred years ago, and by its help we can easily recall the scene of the bride’s homecoming. We can see the eager citizens swarming along the narrow, crooked streets that furrow the steep hill-side;--the clergy in their richest vestments assembling from every church in what is still, as it was then, emphatically a city of churches, and mustering probably on the very summit of the hill, in the open space before the cathedral--not the cathedral whose white twin spires now soar above all things around, the centre and the crown of Angers, but its Romanesque predecessor, crowned doubtless by a companion rather than a rival to the neighbouring dark tower of S. Aubin’s abbey, which now contrasts so vividly with the light pinnacles of S. Maurice. Thence, at a given signal, the procession streamed down with lighted tapers and waving banners to the northern gate of the city, and with psalms and hymns of rejoicing, half drowned in the shouting of the people and the clang of the bells overhead, led the new countess to her dwelling in the hall of Fulk the Black. It was Fulk who had made the first rude plans for the edifice of statesmanship which had now all but reached its last and loftiest stage. The unconscious praise of the Black Count was in every shout which beneath his palace-windows hailed in the person of his worthiest namesake and descendant the triumph of the house of Anjou.

[618] I think this may be safely inferred from the English
Chronicler’s words a. 1127 (above, p. 243, note 5{613}), and
from a singularly suggestive passage in the account of the
wedding festivities in _Hist. Gaufr. Ducis_ (as above), p.
237: “Clamatum est voce præconis ne quis indigena vel advena,
dives, mediocris vel pauper, nobilis vel plebeius, miles vel
colonus ex hâc regali lætitiâ se subtraheret; qui autem gaudiis
nuptialibus minime interesset, regiæ procul dubio majestatis
reus esset.”

There was no mother to welcome Geoffrey and his bride; Aremburg had not lived to see the marriage of her son;[619] and now the shadow of another coming separation fell over the mutual congratulations of Fulk and of his people. Another royal father besides Henry was seeking an Angevin bridegroom for his daughter and an Angevin successor to his throne. It was now just thirty years since the acclamations of the crusading host had chosen Godfrey of Bouillon king of Jerusalem. The crown, which he in his humility declined to wear, passed after his death to his brother Baldwin of Edessa, and then to another Baldwin, of the noble family of Réthel in Champagne. After a busy reign of ten years, Baldwin II., having no son, grew anxious to find a suitable husband for his eldest daughter and destined heiress, Melisenda. In the spring of 1128, with the unanimous approval of his subjects, he offered her hand, together with his crown, to Count Fulk of Anjou.[620] He could not have chosen a fitter man. Fulk was in the prime of life,[621] young enough to bring to his task all the vigour and energy needful to withstand the ever-encroaching Infidels, yet old enough to have learned political caution and experience; and if the one qualification was needed for defence against external foes, the other was no less so for steering a safe course amid the endless jealousies of the Frank princes in Palestine. Moreover, Fulk was known in the East by something more than reputation. Free of all connexion with the internal disputes of the realm, he was yet no utter stranger who would come thither as a mere foreign interloper. He had dwelt there for a whole year as a guest and a friend, and the memory of his visit had been kept alive in the minds of the people of the land, as well as in his own, by a yearly contribution which, amid all his cares and necessities at home, he had never failed to send to the Knights of the Temple for the defence of the Holy City.[622] Baldwin had thus every inducement to make the offer; and Fulk had equally good reasons for accepting it. His was clearly no case of mere vulgar longing after a crown. There may have been a natural feeling that it would be well to put Geoffrey’s father on a titular level with Matilda’s; if the prophecy said to have been made to Fulk the Good was already in circulation, there may have been also a feeling that it was rapidly approaching its fulfilment. But every recorded act of Fulk V. shews that he was too practical in temper to be dazzled by the mere glitter of a crown, without heeding the solid advantages to be gained with it or to be given up for its sake. He must have known that the sacred border-land of Christendom and Islam was a much harder post to defend than the marchland of France and Aquitaine had ever been; he must have known that the consort of the queen of Jerusalem would find little rest upon her throne. But this second Count Fulk the Palmer cared for rest as little as the first. It was work that he longed for: and work at home was at an end for him. The mission of the counts of Anjou, simply as such, was accomplished; when the heir of the Marchland wedded the Lady-elect of Normandy and England, he entered upon an entirely new phase of political existence. Fulk had in fact, by marrying his son to the Empress, cut short his own career, and left himself no choice but to submit to complete effacement or seek a new sphere of action elsewhere. Had Baldwin’s proposal come a year earlier, it might have caused a struggle between inclination and duty; coming as it did just after Henry’s, it extricated all parties from their last difficulty.

[619] She died in 1126; Chronn. S. Albin. and S. Flor. Salm.
ad ann. (Marchegay, _Eglises_, pp. 33, 190). A story of her
last illness, in _Acta Pontif. Cenoman._ c. 36 (Mabillon, _Vet.
Anal._, p. 320), is very characteristic of Fulk, and indicates,
too, that whether or not his marriage with her began in policy
alone, it ended in real affection.

[620] Will. Tyr., l. xiv. c. 1. _Acta Pontif. Cenoman._, c. 36
(Mabillon, _Vet. Anal._) p. 321.

[621] He cannot have been more than thirty-eight; he may have
been only thirty-six.

[622] Ord. Vit. (Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 871).
Will. Tyr. as above.

Fulk could not, however, accept the proposal without the consent of his overlord King Louis and that of his own subjects.[623] Both were granted; his people had prospered under him, but they, too, doubtless saw that alike for him and for them it was time to part. On that same Whit-Sunday when young Geoffrey was knighted at Rouen by King Henry, his father, prostrate before the high altar in the cathedral church of Tours, took the cross at the hands of Archbishop Hildebert.[624] From the wedding festivities at Le Mans he came home to make his preparations for departure. It may be that once more in the old hall overlooking the Mayenne the barons of Anjou and Touraine gathered round the last Count Fulk, to be solemnly released from their allegiance to him, and to perform their homage to his successor. A more secluded spot was chosen for the last family meeting. A few miles south-east of Saumur, in the midst of dark woods and fruitful apple-orchards, a pious and noble crusader, Robert of Arbrissel, had founded in the early years of Fulk’s reign the abbey of Fontevraud, whose church has counted ever since among the architectural marvels of western Europe. An English visitor now-a-days feels as if some prophetic instinct must have guided its architect and given to his work that peculiar awe-striking character which so exactly fits it for the burial-place of the two Angevin kings of England whose sculptured effigies still remain in its south transept. The first of their race who wore a crown, however, came thither not for his last sleep, but only for a few hours of rest ere he started on his eastward journey. The monastery was a double one--half for men and half for women; in the latter Fulk’s eldest daughter, the widow of William the Ætheling, had lately taken the veil. The cloisters of Fontevraud offered a quiet refuge where father and children could all meet undisturbed to exchange their last farewells.[625] Before Whitsuntide came round again Fulk and Anjou had parted for ever.[626]

[623] _Gesta Amb. Domin._ (Marchegay, _Comtes_), p. 205.

[624] _Gesta Cons._ (_ibid._), p. 152.

[625] “Ego Fulco junior Andegavensium comes, Fulconis comitis
filius, ire volens Hierusalem, conventum sanctimonialium
Fontis-Evraudi expetii. Adfuerunt etiam ibi filii mei Gaufridus
et Helias, et filiæ meæ Mathildis et Sibylla, quarum una, id
est Mathildis, paulo ante pro Dei amore se velari fecerat, etc.
Acta charta apud Fontem-Ebraudi anno ab Incarnat. Dom. 1129”
(_Rer. Gall. Script._, vol. xii. p. 736 note, from “Clypeum
nascentis Fontis-Ebraldi”).

[626] _Gesta Cons._ (Marchegay, _Comtes_), p. 153. _Gesta Amb.
Domin._ (_ibid._), p. 205. Will. Tyr., l. xiii. c. 24, l.
xiv. c. 1. Chronn. S. Albin. and S. Serg. a. 1129 (Marchegay,
_Eglises_, pp. 33, 144).

It is not for us to follow him on his lifelong crusade.[627] The Angevin spirit of restless activity and sleepless vigilance, of hard-working thoroughness and indomitable perseverance, never, perhaps, shewed to better advantage than in this second half of the eventful life of Fulk of Jerusalem; but we have to trace its workings only as they influenced the history of our own land. Our place is not with the devoted personal followers who went with Fulk across land and sea, but with those who stayed to share the fortunes of his successor in Anjou. Our concern is with the father of the Angevin kings, not of Jerusalem, but of England.

[627] Its history is in Will. Tyr., l. xiv. cc. 1–27.

NOTE A.

THE HOUSES OF ANJOU AND GÂTINAIS.

All historians are agreed that Geoffrey the Bearded and Fulk Rechin were sons of Geoffrey Martel’s sister and of a count (or viscount) of Gâtinais, or Châteaulandon, which is the same thing--the Gâtinais being a district on the north-eastern border of the Orléanais whereof Châteaulandon was the capital. But the names of both husband and wife differ in different accounts. Fulk Rechin (Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 375) calls his mother Hermengard; R. Diceto (_ib._ p. 333; Stubbs, vol. i. p. 185) calls her Adela; in the _Gesta Cons._ no names are given. If we could be sure that Fulk really wrote the fragment which bears his name, his testimony would of course be decisive; as it is, we are left in doubt. The point is one of trifling importance, for whatever the lady’s name may have been, there is no doubt that she was the daughter of Fulk the Black and Hildegard. But who was her husband?

First, as to his name. The _Gesta Cons._ do not mention it. The Chron. S. Maxent. a. 1060 (Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 402), Hugh of Fleury (_Rer. Gall. Scriptt._, vol. xii. p. 797), and R. Diceto (Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 333; Stubbs, vol. i. p. 185) call him Alberic. Fulk Rechin (as above) calls him Geoffrey. None of them tell us anything about him. It seems in fact to be the aim of the Angevin writers to keep us in the dark as to the descent of the later counts of Anjou from the house of Gâtinais through the husband of Hermengard-Adela; but they try to make out a connexion between the two families six generations further back. One of the earliest legends in the _Gesta Cons._ (Marchegay, _Comtes_, pp. 39–45) tells how Châteaulandon and the Gâtinais were given to Ingelger as a reward for his defence of his slandered godmother, the daughter and heiress of a Count Geoffrey of Gâtinais, and the alleged gift is coupled with a grant from the king of the viscounty of Orléans. What Ingelger may or may not have held it is impossible to say, as we really know nothing about him. But there is proof that the viscounty of Orléans at least did not pass to his descendants. The very first known charter of Fulk the Good, one dated May 942, is witnessed by Geoffrey viscount of Orléans; and Geoffrey Greygown’s charter for the reform of S. Aubin’s in 966 is witnessed by Alberic viscount of Gâtinais, whose signature has already appeared in 957, attached to a charter of Theobald the Trickster. This Alberic may very likely have been the son of his predecessor Geoffrey, but he cannot well have been the father of Fulk Nerra’s son-in-law; there is a generation dropped out, and of the man who should fill it the only trace is in Ménage (_Hist. de Sablé_), who says that Fulk Rechin’s father, Geoffrey count of Gâtinais, was the son of _another Geoffrey_ and Beatrice, daughter of Alberic II. of Mâcon (Mabille, introd. _Comtes_, pp. lxxxv–lxxxvi). It seems probable that Orléans and Châteaulandon went together in fact as well as in Angevin legend. Assuming therefore that Ménage was copying a document now lost, the pedigree would stand thus:

Geoffrey,
viscount of Orléans 942
|
Alberic,
viscount in 957 and 966
|
Geoffrey,
viscount of Orléans and count of Gâtinais
|
Alberic or Geoffrey = Hermengard or Adela,
| daughter of Fulk Nerra
+--------------+--------------+
| |
Geoffrey the Bearded. Fulk Rechin.

If we might assume also, with M. Mabille, that the “Alberic” whose signature appears beside that of Fulk the Red in 886 (Mabille, introd. _Comtes_, p. lix, note 1) was the father of the first Geoffrey of Orléans, then the two names would stand alternate till we come to Hermengard’s husband. Is it just possible that (on a principle somewhat like that which made all the dukes of Aquitaine assume the name of William) this alternation of names grew into a family tradition, so that the son of Geoffrey II. and Beatrice having by some accident been christened by his father’s instead of his grandfather’s name, assumed the latter officially on succeeding to the title, and thus became known to outsiders as “Alberic,” while his own son (Fulk Rechin) spoke of him by his original and real name?

However this may be, he was most probably descended from the family who became viscounts of Orléans at about the same time that the house of Anjou was being founded. They make no figure in history, and the Angevin writers do their best to efface them altogether. Ralf de Diceto just names the father of the two young counts, and that is all; in the _Gesta Cons._ his very name is dropped, and the reader is left in utter darkness as to who and what Martel’s nephews were. They were Martel’s nephews, and that was all that anybody was intended to know about them. Fulk Rechin himself, or his representative, merges the Châteaulandon connexion almost completely in the Angevin, and regards himself simply as the grandson of Fulk Nerra. After all, they are right; it was Fulk Nerra’s blood that made his grandsons what they were; their father might have been anybody, or, as he almost appears, nobody, for all the influence he had on their characters or their destinies.

NOTE B.

THE HEIR OF GEOFFREY MARTEL.

Of the disposal of his territories made by Geoffrey Martel there are three versions.

1. The _Gesta Cons._ (Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 131), R. Diceto (_ib._ p. 333; Stubbs, vol. i. p. 185) and Chron. Tur. Magn. (Salmon, _Chron. Touraine_, pp. 122, 123) say that Anjou and Saintonge were left to Fulk, Touraine and Gâtinais to Geoffrey.

2. A MS. representing the earliest form of the _Gesta Cons._ (ending in 1106) says just the opposite: Anjou and Saintonge to Geoffrey, Touraine and Gâtinais to Fulk (Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 131, note 1. See Mabille, introd. _Comtes_, _ib._ pp. iv–viii).

3. Orderic (Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 532) and Will. Poitiers (_ib._ pp. 188, 189) ignore Fulk and make Geoffrey sole heir.

The first version is easily disposed of. In three charters of S. Florence of Saumur, one of 1061 (Marchegay, _Archives d’Anjou_, vol. i. p. 259) and two whose dates must be between 1062 and 1066 (_ib._ p. 278), and in one of S. Maur, 1066 (_ib._ pp. 358–360), Geoffrey the Bearded is formally described as count of Anjou. The strongest proof of all is a charter of Fulk Rechin himself, March 11, 1068, setting forth how Geoffrey, nephew and _heir_ of Geoffrey Martel, had made certain promises to S. Florence, which he, Fulk, having now got possession of Anjou, fulfilled (_ib._ p. 260).

The second version, though apparently not contradicted by any documentary proof, has nothing to support it, and contains an internal difficulty. For how could Martel leave the Gâtinais to Fulk? Surely it was not his to leave at all, but would pass as a matter of course to Geoffrey as Alberic’s (Geoffrey’s?) eldest son. The old confusion of the relations of the Gâtinais to Anjou peeps out again here.

The third account is that of foreign writers; but those writers are Orderic and William of Poitiers. And they are not unsupported. Geoffrey Martel’s last act, a charter granted to Marmoutier on his deathbed, is signed by his _nephew and successor-designate Geoffrey_, and by Fulk, who is described simply as the latter’s brother (Mabille, introd. _Comtes_, p. lxxxiv).

The conclusion to which all this leads is that Martel bequeathed the whole of his dominions to his elder nephew Geoffrey, and that all the conflicting stories of a division of territory were inventions to save the character of Fulk Rechin. It is possible that Martel did, as Fulk says, invest him with Saintonge, but even here it is evident that the elder brother’s rights were reserved, for it is Geoffrey, not Fulk, who fights for Saintonge with the duke of Aquitaine.

One portion of Martel’s dominions is named in none of these accounts, except Fulk’s; and that is Maine. Fulk coolly puts it into the list of his own possessions, and M. Mabille regards this as a blunder proving that the author of the _Fragment_ was not what he professes to be. May it not rather tell the other way? A forger would have remembered that Maine was lost and not risked such a glaring falsehood; the count ignores its _de facto_ loss because he holds himself its overlord _de jure_. We shall find Geoffrey the Bearded making his appearance as titular overlord of Maine in 1063. Did Martel feel about Maine as William the Conqueror seems to have felt about England?

NOTE C.

THE WAR OF SAINTONGE.

The account of this war between Geoffrey the Bearded and Guy-Geoffrey, _alias_ William VII., of Aquitaine, has to be made out from one direct source and one indirect one. The first is the Chron. S. Maxent. a. 1061 (Marchegay, _Eglises_, pp. 402, 403): “Goffredus et Fulco habentes certamen cum Gaufredo duce propter Sanctonas, venientes cum magno exercitu, pugnaverunt cum eo in bello etiam in Aquitaniâ, ubi e contrario Pictavorum exercitus adunatus est; et ab utrisque partibus magnis animositatibus pugnatum est, sed traditores belli et ceteri signiferi, vexillis projectis, exercitum Pictavensium in fugam verterunt. Quapropter vulnerati multi sunt et plurimi occisi atque nonnulli capti; unde quidam versibus eam confusionem ita describit, dicens: Cum de Pictavis bellum sit et Andegavinis, Inque die Martis fuit et Sancti Benedicti, Circa forte Caput Wultonnæ contigit esse, Annus millenus tunc sexagesimus unus.”

That entry comprises all the direct information on the subject. The Angevin monastic chronicles and Fulk Rechin do not mention it at all. Neither do the _Gesta Cons._ in the right place; but they mix it up with the war between Geoffrey Martel and William the Fat in 1033. By the light of the Chron. S. Maxent., it seems possible to disentangle the two stories. It even seems possible to make sense of a passage in the _Gesta_ which never can be sense as it stands, by understanding it as referring to Geoffrey the Bearded instead of his uncle: “Willelmus Pictavensium comes consulatum Sanctonicum suum esse volebat et vi preoccupatum tenebat, quia patrui sui fuerat. Martellus eumdem consulatum reclamabat quia avi sui fuerat, cujus heredes absque liberis mortui erant; et ideo ad heredes sororis avi sui debere reverti affirmabat” (_Gesta Cons._, Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 126). This is the story by which the _Gesta_-writer professes to explain the cause of the war of Geoffrey Martel and William the Fat, of which he then gives an elaborate account, ending with William’s capture and the consequent surrender of Saintes to Geoffrey. But the story is utterly senseless; the claims of William and Martel as therein stated are alike devoid of all show of reason. In the account of the war itself, too, there are strong traces of confusion; Saintes is assumed to have passed back into the duke’s hands, of which there is no sign elsewhere; and to crown all, the scene of the battle in which William is taken is laid, not as by the Chron. S. Maxent. (a. 1032, Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 392) and Fulk Rechin (_Comtes_, p. 378), at S. Jouin-de-Marne or Montcontour, but at Chef-Boutonne. The question then arises: Can this wild tale in the _Gesta_, which is quite impossible as an explanation of Martel’s war with William V., be interpreted so as to explain his successor’s war with William VII.?

“Willelmus [VII., _alias_ Guy-Geoffrey] Pictavensium comes consulatum Sanctonicum suum esse volebat et vi præoccupatum tenebat [having presumably seized it on Martel’s death], quia patrui sui [for _patrui_ read _fratris_--William the Fat--or _patris_, William the Great] fuerat. Martellus [Barbatus] eumdem consulatum reclamabat, quia avi sui [Fulconis Nerræ] fuerat, cujus hæredes [_i.e._ G. Martellus] absque liberis mortui essent; et ideo ad hæredes sororis avi sui [read _avunculi sui_--Martel’s sister, the Bearded one’s mother] debere reverti affirmabat.”

Read in this way, the story is quite reasonable and intelligible, and the rest of the _Gesta’s_ account might stand almost intact, except the capture of the duke, which of course is dragged in from the earlier war. The confusion between the Williams of Aquitaine is easily accounted for, and so is that between the Geoffreys of Anjou, especially as all the Geoffreys after Martel occasionally took to themselves his cognomen.

NOTE D.

THE DESCENDANTS OF HERBERT WAKE-DOG.

Not the least puzzling matter connected with the Cenomannian wars is the genealogy of the sovereign house of Maine. The succession of the counts themselves--Hugh I. (or David), Herbert I. (Wake-dog), Hugh II., Herbert II.--is plain enough, as also that each was the son of his predecessor. But the filiation of the women of the family--Margaret, Gersendis, Paula and Biota--is far from being equally clear.

1. As to Margaret, there is no real doubt. Orderic does once (Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 683) call her a daughter of Herbert [II.]; but his own statements in two other places (_ib._ pp. 487 and 532), as well as Will. Poitiers (_ib._ p. 190), shew that this is a mere slip. Margaret was clearly a daughter of Hugh II. and sister of Herbert II.

2. As to Biota. Orderic (as above, p. 487) calls her “Hugonis Cenomannensium comitis filiam”; in Will. Poitiers (_ib._ p. 189) she is “_soror_ Hugonis”; and Mr. Freeman (_Norm. Conq._, 3d ed., vol. iii. p. 200, and note T, p. 676) adopts the latter version. Biota, then, was a daughter of Herbert Wake-dog and sister of Hugh II. But were Gersendis and Paula her sisters or her nieces?

3. The fullest and most distinct statement of the Cenomannian pedigree is that of Orderic in Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 532: “Hugo filius Herberti ... Bertam ... in conjugium accepit; quæ filium nomine Herbertum et tres filias ei peperit. Una earum data est Azsoni Marchiso Liguriæ. Alia nomine Margarita Rodberto filio Guillelmi Ducis Neustriæ desponsata est ... Tertia vero Joanni domino castri quod Flecchia dicitur nupsit.”

With regard to this last marriage, it is to be observed that in the speech which Orderic puts into the mouth of Elias of La Flèche, addressing Hugh of Este (_ib._ p. 684), he says nothing about his mother at all, but makes him trace his descent from Herbert Wake-dog through his grandmother, whom he calls Herbert’s daughter: “Filia Herberti comitis Lancelino de Balgenceio nupsit, eique ... Joannem meum genitorem peperit.” The name of John’s wife, Paula, comes from another passage of Orderic (_ib._ p. 768); but he there says nothing about her parentage, merely calling her son Elias “Hugonis Cenomannorum consulis consobrinus.” The houses of Le Mans and La Flèche cannot have intermarried twice in two succeeding generations; one of Orderic’s statements must be wrong; but which, I cannot decide.

The last point is the parentage of Gersendis, the wife of Azzo of Este; and as the whole tone of Elias’s speech (as above) implies that he and her son were related to the counts of Le Mans in the same degree, the solution of this question might almost be held to decide the previous one also. This seems to be Mr. Freeman’s opinion, and he regards Orderic’s statement quoted above as conclusive that Gersendis and Paula were both daughters of Hugh II., and sisters therefore of Margaret and Herbert II., in spite of the biographer of the bishops of Le Mans (Mabillon, _Vet. Anal._, p. 308), who expressly says that Gersendis was a daughter of Herbert Wake-dog, and the continuator of Will. Jumièges, who says:--“Cenomannenses ... consilium ineunt cum Heliâ filio Joannis de Flecâ ... ut _filiam cujusdam comitis Langobardiæ, neptem videlicet Hereberti quondam Cenomannensis comitis ex primogenitâ filiâ_, in matrimonium ducat.” Will. Jumièges, l. viii. c. 5 (Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 294). This re-appears in R. Diceto (Stubbs, vol. i. pp. 183, 184; Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 334) in the following form:--“Helias, filius Johannis de Flecâ, Sibillam, filiam cujusdam comitis Longobardiæ, neptem scilicet Hereberti quondam Cenomannorum comitis, duxit uxorem, et cum eâ comitatum Cenomanniæ suscepit.” But this is certainly wrong; for the first wife of Elias was Matilda of Château-du-Loir, and the second was Agnes of Perche.

What Elias could have had to gain by the marriage thus proposed for him it is impossible to guess, as he himself certainly was quite as nearly related to the counts of Maine as this oddly-described bride could have been. Mr. Freeman (_Norm. Conq._, 3d ed., vol. iii., note T, p. 676), takes the description as favouring Orderic’s theory, and remarks: “The words could only have been written by one who looked on Gersendis as a sister of Herbert.” “Neptem Hereberti,” then, he interprets, “niece of Herbert [II].” But is it not a much simpler interpretation of the whole phrase--“_neptem Hereberti ex primogenitâ filiâ_”--to read it “granddaughter of Herbert [I.] through his eldest daughter”? In that case, we should have another witness on the side of the bishops’ biographer.

There is another curious bit of evidence which at first glance seems also to tell in his favour. I do not think that it really proves anything about the matter; but it is worth examining for other reasons. M. d’Arbois de Jubainville (_Comtes de Champagne_, vol. i. p. 392, note 5), declares it proved on documentary evidence that Stephen-Henry of Blois, the father of our King Stephen, was the son of Theobald III. by his first marriage with Gersendis of Maine. About the marriage itself there is no doubt, nor about the divorce which followed it; and the latter had taken place in 1049 at latest, for Theobald was excommunicated for that very cause by the Council of Reims. Most historians seem however to have supposed that Gersendis was then a mere child, and that the mother of Stephen, as well as of Theobald’s other children, was his second wife, Adela of Valois. M. de Jubainville, in support of his opinion, refers especially to two charters. One is in _Gallia Christiana_, vol. viii., instr. col. 548. It has no date, and says nothing about Stephen’s mother or his stepmother; I therefore cannot see its bearing on the question. The other is in Bernier, _Histoire de Blois, preuves_, pp. xiii–xiv. In it Stephen-Henry, in the year 1089, grants certain lands to Pontlevoy “pro animæ meæ et uxoris et Theobaldi patris mei et _matris meæ Gandree_ ... remedio”; and has the grant confirmed “nomine ... Alæ uxoris meæ, _Alæ uxoris Thebaudi comitis_,” etc. This certainly seems to shew that Adela was not his mother, though it does not necessarily follow that “Gandree” represents Gersendis. If it does, Stephen-Henry must have been born in 1049 at latest, and therefore Gersendis cannot possibly have been a daughter of Hugh II., who was not married till 1040 at the very earliest.

The greatest puzzle in the whole matter, however, is this: If Stephen-Henry was really the eldest son of Gersendis of Maine, how does it happen that neither in 1073, nor in 1089, nor in any of the Cenomannian revolutions and wars, do we hear a single word about his claims upon the county? M. d’Arbois de Jubainville’s suggestion in fact opens a question much more important and much more obscure than that of the age and parentage of Gersendis. He certainly seems to have proved that Adela of Valois was not Stephen’s mother; but has he proved that Gersendis was? The only bit of evidence, direct or indirect, which it seems possible to bring to bear upon this matter is a passage in the _Historia Pontificalis_ (Pertz, _Mon. Germ. Hist._, vol. xx. p. 531) where it is said that the cause of our King Stephen was upheld by some of the Roman cardinals who claimed kindred with him “eo quod avia ejus Lumbarda fuerit.” Now, as the second husband of Gersendis was a Lombard, this may come from some confused idea about her. But it also suggests another possible solution of the whole question about Stephen-Henry’s mother. Theobald and Gersendis were divorced in 1049 at latest; the first record in which Adela appears as Theobald’s wife is dated 1061 (Jubainville, _Comtes de Champagne_, vol. i. p. 393, note 3). May not the mysterious “Gandrea” of the charter of 1089 have been an Italian lady who was married to Theobald, became the mother of his heir, and died, between those two dates?

NOTE E.

THE SIEGE OF LA FLÈCHE AND TREATY OF BLANCHELANDE.

There are two questionable points connected with these matters: 1. the date; 2. the geography.

1. The only original writer who gives a detailed account of both siege and treaty is Orderic, who carries his story straight on from the quelling of the revolt of Maine in 1073 to the siege of La Flèche, as if it had all happened in the same year, before William returned to England with his troops. On the other hand, none of the Angevin writers mention La Flèche under date 1073; but the Chronn. S. Albin. and S. Flor. Salm. (Marchegay, _Eglises_, pp. 26, 189) have “Exercitus de Fissâ,” the former in 1077, the latter in 1078; and in the _Art de vérifier les Dates_ these entries are interpreted as referring to the siege which was followed by the treaty of Blanchelande. M. Voisin (_Les Cénomans_, p. 414) dates the whole affair 1085; he gives no reason and seems to be quite unsupported. The choice lies therefore between Orderic’s date and that of the Angevin chronicles. Mr. Freeman (_Norm. Conq._, vol. iv. pp. 560–563) follows Orderic, and I have done the same.

2. As to the geography. Orderic (Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 533) says that to meet William the Angevin and Breton host, leaving La Flèche, “Ligerim fluvium audacter pertransierunt.” Now this must be wrong, as the Loire is a long way south of La Flèche. It is clear that for _Ligerim_, “Loire,” we must read _Liderim_, “Loir,” as Mr. Freeman says (_Norm. Conq._, vol. iv. p. 562, note 2). Even crossing the Loir seems rather a strange proceeding; for La Flèche being on the right or north bank of that river, they must have crossed it to the southward--_i.e._ away from Normandy. How came it that William, marching against them out of Normandy, had gone so far down to the south of them?

There is however a further question as to the actual place of the treaty, which Mr. Freeman (as above, p. 562) places at Bruère in the Passais. If such was the case, Orderic’s story of the crossing of the river becomes quite hopeless, as Bruère is a long way north-west of La Flèche. But there is another version. J. Pesche in his _Dictionnaire historique de la Sarthe_, vol. i. p. 168, under “_Blanchelande_ ou _Blanche-bruyère_,” says: “Vaste espace de terrain infertile, où croît abondamment le lichen des rennes, dont la blancheur lui aura fait donner son nom; situé _entre La Flèche et Le Lude_, côtoyé par la route qui conduit de l’une à l’autre de ces deux villes.” It is this which Pesche and, following him, M. Voisin (_Les Cénomans_, p. 414, note 1) mark as the scene of the treaty. So does M. Prévost in a note to Orderic, vol. ii. p. 258, and he adds that a farm there still in 1840 bore the name of Blanchelande. If this theory is correct, Orderic’s geography is quite right and clear; the besiegers of La Flèche, on the north side of the Loir, crossing over to its southern bank, would march straight upon the “white moor.” William must then have crossed higher up and made a circuit to the south-east of them. The only question remaining would be, what was his reason for this movement? To which there was doubtless a good military answer.

With regard to the second siege of La Flèche by Fulk Rechin, in 1081, there is a very strange story in the Chron. Rain. Andeg. (Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 13). We are there told that Fulk not only took and burned the castle (as the Chron. S. Albin., _ib._ p. 26, also states under the same year) in revenge, for John’s rebellion against him, but also punished King William for his previous relief of the castle, by so worsting him in battle that he retreated after giving hostages for peace, among whom were his brother the count of Mortain and his own son! Mr. Freeman says nothing of this very apocryphal-looking story. Is it anything more than an Angevin travesty of Robert’s homage to Fulk at Blanchelande?

NOTE F.

THE MARRIAGE OF GEOFFREY AND MATILDA.

The date of this marriage is commonly given as 1127. A comparison of evidence seems however to lead to the conclusion that its true date is 1128.

1. The Angevin chronicles never mention the marriage at all. The _Gesta Cons._, Will. Jumièges and several other writers mention it without any kind of date. The English Chronicle, Sim. Durh., Will. Malm. and Hen. Hunt. give no distinct date, but imply that the proposal was immediately followed by the wedding. They speak as if Robert and Brian had taken Matilda over sea and married her to Geoffrey without more ado.

2. Orderic mentions the marriage in two places. In the first (Duchesne, _Hist. Norm. Scriptt._, p. 763) he gives no clue to the date; in the second (_ib._ p. 889) he dates it 1129.

3. The Chron. Fiscannense (_Rer. Gall. Scriptt._, vol. xii. p. 778) dates it 1127.

4. A charter of agreement between the bishop of Séez and the convent of Marmoutier (printed in Gilles Bry’s _Hist. de Perche_, p. 106) has “signum Henrici Regis quando dedit filiam suam Gaufredo comiti Andegavensi juniori.” It is dated “anno ab Inc. Dom. 1127, Indictione VI.”

5. The last witness is John of Marmoutier, the author of the _Historia Gaufredi Ducis_. From him we might have expected a distinct and authentic statement; but he does not mention the year at all. He says that Geoffrey was knighted on Whit-Sunday and married on its octave, and that he was then fifteen years of age (_Hist. Gaufr. Ducis_, Marchegay, _Comtes_, pp. 236, 233). Afterwards, in speaking of the birth of Henry Fitz-Empress, he says that it took place in the fourth year of his parents’ marriage (_ib._ pp. 277, 278). Henry was born on Mid-Lent Sunday, March 5, 1133; if therefore the writer reckoned backwards from the Whitsuntide of that year, his words ought to mean that the marriage was in 1129. But as he goes on to state that Matilda’s third son was born in the sixth year of her marriage, and that Henry I. died “anno eodem, ab Incarnatione videlicet Domini 1137,” it is impossible to say what he did mean. Whether he is collecting the traditions of the ancient counts or writing the life of his own contemporary sovereign, John’s chronology is pursued by the same fate; whenever he mentions a date by the year, he is almost certain to make it wrong. But that he should have done the like in his reckoning of days, or even of his hero’s age, by no means follows. To consider the latter point first: Geoffrey the Handsome was born on August 24, 1113 (Chron. S. Albin. _ad ann._, Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 32). Therefore, if John meant that he was past fifteen at his marriage, it must have been in 1129. But if he only meant “in his fifteenth year,” it would be 1128. In that year the octave of Pentecost fell on June 17; Geoffrey then lacked but two months to the completion of his fifteenth year; and considering Matilda’s age, it is no wonder that the panegyrist tried to make her husband out as old as possible. It is in fact plain that such was his intention, for though he places Geoffrey’s death in the right year, 1151, he gives his age as forty-one instead of thirty-eight (_Hist. Gaufr. Ducis_, Marchegay, _Comtes_, p. 292).

The most important matter, however, is John’s statement that the wedding took place on the octave of Pentecost. The date in this case is not one casually slipped in by the writer in passing; it comes in a detailed account of the festivities at Rouen on the occasion of Geoffrey’s knighting, which is expressly said to have occurred at Pentecost, and to have been followed by his marriage on the octave. Now this leaves us on the horns of a dilemma fatal alike to the date in the Chron. Fiscann., 1127, and to that of Orderic, 1129. For, on the one hand, Will. Malm. (_Hist. Nov._, l. i. c. 3, Hardy, p. 692) says that Matilda did not go to Normandy till _after_ Whitsuntide [1127]; and Hen. Hunt., l. vii. c. 37 (Arnold, p. 247), adds that the king followed her in August (Sim. Durh., ed. Arnold, vol. ii. pp. 281, 282, really witnesses to the same effect; for his chronology of the whole story is a year in advance). Consequently, as Mrs. Everett Green remarks, “the union could not have taken place before the spring of the following year, 1128” (_Princesses of England_, vol. i. pp. 107, 108). On the other hand, it is plain that Fulk was present at his son’s wedding; but before Whitsuntide 1129 Fulk was himself married to the princess of Jerusalem (Will. Tyr., l. xiii. c. 24).

From all this it results: 1. If Geoffrey and Matilda were married in 1127, it cannot have been earlier than September, _i.e._ at least three months after Whitsuntide. 2. If they were married in 1129, it must have been quite at the beginning of the year, and Orderic must, on this occasion at least, have made his year begin in English fashion, at Christmas. 3. If they were married at Whitsuntide, it can only have been in 1128.

We have in short to choose one out of three authorities: the Chronicle of Fécamp, Orderic and John of Marmoutier--for the Séez charter, as Mrs. Everett Green remarks (_Princesses_, vol. i. p. 108), proves nothing more than that the betrothal had taken place in 1127. Of these three, the first is certainly of least account. Orderic, on the other hand, is on most other subjects a far better authority than John. But his chronology is very little better than John’s, at any rate towards the close of his work; his whole account of Henry’s later years is sketchy and confused; while John is Geoffrey Plantagenet’s own special biographer, writing within sixty years of the event, from materials furnished by personal followers of his hero. I cannot but regard him as our primary authority on this subject, and believe on his testimony that the real wedding-day of Geoffrey and Matilda was the octave of Pentecost, June 17, 1128.