The Ecclesiastical History of England and Normandy by Orderic Vitalis

The mass ended, when the coffin was already lowered into the grave, but the corpse was still on the bier, the great Gilbert, bishop of Evreux, ascended the pulpit, and pronounced a long and eloquent discourse on the distinguished character of the deceased prince. He expatiated on William's having extended by his valour the bounds of the Norman dominion, and raised his people to a pitch of greatness surpassing the times of any of his predecessors; and on his having maintained peace and justice in all his states, wisely chastising thieves and robbers with the Scourge of the law, while he firmly defended the clergy and monks, and defenceless people, with his meritorious sword. When he had concluded his discourse he addressed himself to the congregation, who were shedding affectionate tears and attested his assertions, and added this supplication: "As in this present life no man can live without sin, I beseech you, for the love of Christ, that you earnestly intercede with Almighty God on behalf of our deceased prince, and that you kindly forgive him, if in aught he has offended against you."

[On or after 9th September 1087] However, when the corpse was lowered into the stone coffin, they were obliged to use some violence in forcing it in, because through the negligence of the masons it had been made too short, so that, as the king was very corpulent, the bowels burst, and an intolerable stench affected the by-standers and the rest of the crowd. The smoke of incense and other aromatics ascended in clouds, but failed to purify the tainted atmosphere. The priests therefore hurried the conclusion of the funeral service and retired as soon as possible, in great alarm, to their respective abodes.

2nd August 1100. The morning¹ of the day following, King William, having dined with his minions, prepared, after the meal was ended, to go forth and hunt in the New Forest. Being in great spirits he was joking with his attendants while his boots were being laced, when an armourer came and presented to him six arrows. The king immediately took them with great satisfaction, praising the work, and unconscious of what was to happen, kept four of them himself and held out the other two to Walter Tirel.² "It is but right," he said, "that the sharpest arrows should be given to him who knows best how to inflict mortal wounds with them." This Tirel was a French knight of good extraction, the wealthy lord of the castles of Poix and Pontoise, filling a high place among the nobles, and a gallant soldier; he was therefore admitted to familiar intimacy with the king, and became his constant companion. Meanwhile, while they were idly talking on various subjects, and the king's household attendants were assembled about him, a monk of Gloucester presented himself and delivered to the king a letter from his abbot. Having read it, the king burst out laughing, and said merrily to the knight just mentioned, "Walter, do what I told you." The knight replied, "I will, my lord." Slighting then the warnings of the elders, and forgetting that the heart is lifted up before a fall, he said respecting the letter he had received, "I wonder what has induced my lord Serlo to write to me in this strain, for I really believe he is a worthy abbot and respectable old man. In the simplicity of his heart, he transmits to me, who have enough besides to attend to, the dreams of his snoring monks, and even takes the trouble to commit them to writing, and send them a long distance. Does he think that I follow the example of the English, who will defer their journey or their business on account of the dreams of a parcel of wheezing old women?"

Thus speaking, he hastily rose, and mounting his horse, rode at full speed to the forest. His brother, Count Henry, with William de Breteuil³ and other distinguished persons followed him, and, having penetrated into the woods, the hunters dispersed themselves in various directions according to custom. The king and Walter de Poix posted themselves with a few others in one part of the forest, and stood with their weapons in their hands eagerly watching for the coming of the game, when a stag suddenly running between them, the king quitted his station, and Walter⁴ shot an arrow. It grazed the beast's grizzly back, but glancing from it, mortally wounded the king who stood within its range. He immediately fell to the ground, and alas! suddenly expired³. The death of one man caused the greatest confusion among numbers, and the wood echoed with fearful shouts occasioned by the death of their prince. Prince Henry lost no time in riding as fast as his horse could carry him to Winchester, where the royal treasure was kept, and imperiously demanded the keys from the keepers, as the lawful heir. William de Breteuil arrived at the same instant with breathless haste, for he anticipated Henry's deep policy and resolved to oppose it. "We ought," he said, "to have a loyal regard for the fealty we have sworn to your brother Robert. He is, undoubtedly, the eldest son of King William, and both I and you, my lord Henry, have paid him homage⁴. Therefore we ought to keep our engagements to him in all respects, whether he be absent or present. He has long laboured in God's service, and the Lord now restores him, without a contest, the duchy which he relinquished for the love of heaven, as well as his father's crown. There was now a sharp contention between them, and crowds flocked round them from all quarters; but the influence of an heir present in person to claim his rights began to prevail. Henry hastily seizing his sword drew it out of the scabbard, declaring that no foreigner should on frivolous pretences lay hands on his father's sceptre.

Note 1. Malmesbury, whom we have just quoted, tells us that the king did not go out to hunt till after dinner, but that was an early meal in those days.

Note 2. Walter Tirel, lord of Poix (Somme), and keeper of the castle of Pontoise.

Note 3. William de Breteuil, son of William FitzOsberne.

Note 4. Walter Tirel, the third of that name. He must have undertaken the pilgrimage to the Holy Land in which he died after he founded the abbey of Selincourt in 1134. He also founded the priory of St. Denys at Poix. He lived in the Vexin in 1091, at which time he appears as witness in a charter of King Philip I., being a donation of the abbey of St. Melon at Pontoise to the archbishop of Rouen. We must not be surprised to find him sometimes at Pontoise and at others in Picardy, as the counts of Amiens were both counts of Pontoise and the French Vexin.

Richard Giffard, his wife's father, was probably brother of Walter Giffard, earl of Buckingham.

Hugh Tirrel, son of Walter III. and Anne, went also to the Holy Land in 1146.

Note 3. Malmesbury informs us that on receiving the wound the king uttered not a word, but breaking off the shaft of the arrow where it projected from his body, fell upon the wound by which he accelerated his death. The sun was declining, and the king, at the time he was shot, was holding up his hand to screen his eyes from the sun's rays athwart the glades of the forest, while he was keenly gazing at a stag which he had just slightly wounded.

Note 4. Our author, so far from applauding the loyalty of William de Breteuil, already exhibits his great partiality for Henry I. Robert Curthose was odious to the clergy not only on account of his licentious conduct, but because he afforded them no protection against the rapacity of the barons.

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At length, through the intervention of friends and prudent counsellors, the quarrel abated on one side and the other, and by a wise resolution, to prevent a serious rupture, the castle, with the royal treasures, was given up to Henry, the king's son. This had been long before predicted by the Britons, and the English desired to have for their lord a prince they regarded as illustrious because he was nobly born on the throne.¹

Note 1. He was the only son of William the Conqueror born after his accession to the throne of England, being what the Greeks of the lower empire called Porphyrogenites, born in the purple, a circumstance to which the Anglo-Saxons attached great importance, regarding it as a strong confirmation of the right to the throne.

On the king's death, many of the nobles hastened at once from the forest to their own abodes, and began to put their affairs in order, in anticipation of the troubles which they feared would follow. Some of the servants wrapped the king's bloody corpse in a mean covering, and brought it, like a wild boar pierced by the hunters, to the city of Winchester. The clergy, the monks and citizens, with the poor widows and mendicants, went in procession without delay to meet the body, from respect to the royal dignity, and buried it in the old minster of St. Peter¹. Notwithstanding, the doctors and prelates of the church, taking into consideration his debauched life and tragical end, did not hesitate to pass sentence upon him, and thought, that as they had been unable to inflict salutary punishment upon him for his iniquities while he lived, he must be treated as a reprobate², and one who did not merit absolution. In some churches the bells did not ring his knell, although they often are tolled long for paupers and women of the lowest rank. Of the immense treasure he had amassed, wrung from the labours of the wretched people, no alms were given to the poor for the soul of their former avaricious owner. The soldiers who served for hire, the bullies and common whores missed their gains at the death of the debauched king, and lamenting his miserable end, not so much from regard, as from their loss of the supplies which ministered to their detestable vices, sought carefully for Walter Tirel³, threatening to tear him in pieces in revenge for the death of their patron. However, the moment the deed was done he hurried to the coast, and crossing the sea took repose in his castles in France, where he laughed in security at the threats and curses of his malevolent enemies. He married Alice, daughter of Richard, of the noble family of Giffard, who bore to her husband Hugh de Poix, a very valiant knight. Many years afterwards Walter went in pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and died penitent on the holy journey.

Note 1. The king was interred within the court of the castle. That part of the building soon afterwards fell to the ground, and it was regarded as a sign of the divine wrath against the king. It was rebuilt from funds left by Bishop Walkelin. The funeral procession was not so mean as our author infers: multorum procerum conventu, paucorum planctu [the assembly of many nobles, the lamentation of a few]. Many of the nobility attended, though there were few mourners.

Note 2. Biothanatum. The portrait of this king thus drawn by a contemporary writer: "He was square-built, the colour of his skin red, and his hair of a yellowish tint, his brow was open, his eyes were of different shades, varying with certain glittering specks. His strength was prodigious, though his frame was not large, and his belly was rather protuberant. He had no pretensions to eloquence, but was remarkable for stammering in his speech especially when angry. He had so little inclination or leisure for learning that he never attended to it. ” — Malmesbury.

It appears, therefore, that his surname was given him more from the florid tint of his face than the colour of his hair. He was more than forty years old at the time of his death. One of the principal grievances of the Anglo-Saxon people in his time, as well as his father's, was the destruction of churches and churchyards in extending the forests. Stephen Berchington, Vita Archiepiscop. Cantuar. attributes to him no less than twenty desecrations of this sort.

Note 3. It appears that Walter Tirel denied to the last his having been the person by whose hand William Rufus fell. Suger, a cotemporary historian, and, as it seems, a friend of Tirel, in his Life of Louis-le-Gros, king of France, alluding to the death of Rufus, remarks: "One Walter Tirel, a nobleman, was accused of shooting the king with an arrow; but I have often heard him assert on his solemn oath, at a time when he had nothing either to fear or hope, that on that day he was neither in the part of the forest where the king was hunting, nor saw him at all while he was in the wood." This testimony, however, can hardly avail against the concurrent agreement of tradition and history.

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Chapter 15. Coronation of Henry I. — His character — Protects the church — Fills the vacant bishoprics and abbeys — Conduct of the nobles — Henry marries the Anglo-Saxon princess Matilda.

In the year of our Lord 1100, on Thursday, the fourth of the nones [ 20th ] of August, William Rufus was mortally wounded by an arrow in the New Forest, after having possessed the kingdom of England twelve years and nearly ten months. Thereupon Henry hastened to London with Robert earl of Mellent, and the following Sunday [5th August 1100] was placed on the throne in the church of St. Peter the apostle, at Westminster, being anointed by the venerable Maurice, bishop of London. Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury, was then an exile, as it has been already observed, and Thomas, archbishop of York, being lately dead¹, that metropolitan see was still vacant. Henry was thirty years old when he ascended the throne, and his reign lasted thirty-five years and four months². He ruled the dominions, divinely committed to him, with prudence and success in prosperity and adversity, and was distinguished among the princes of Christendom for his love of peace and justice. In his time the church of God was brilliantly endowed with wealth and honours, and all orders of the religious increased to the glory of the Creator. This is shown by the monks and clergy, who, during his reign, augmented their numbers and their dignity; this is proved in the case of anchorites, who, felling dense woods, and rearing among them the lofty spires of churches and abbeys, exult in their labours, and sing the praises of God with heart-felt peace, where once robbers and outlaws, abandoned to all wickedness, found their retreats.

Note 1. This is incorrect; the archbishop of York survived till the end of the following November. It is not even quite certain that he did not assist at the coronation of Henry I, placing the crown on his head, after the royal unction had been given by the bishop of London. At any rate the archbishop did not die till Sunday, November 28.

Note 2. In the MS. of St. Evroult the figures have been erased, and the six last words, "reigned five years and six months," interlined.

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From the beginning of his reign, Henry had the wisdom to conciliate all parties, attaching them to his person by his royal munificence. He admitted the nobles to a high place in his favour, loaded them with wealth and honours, and secured their fidelity by his flattering caresses. The common people among his subjects he indulged with equitable laws, and protected by his authority from unjust exactions and pillage. This illustrious prince thus distinguished himself above all the lords and kings of the west, and obtained the favour both of the clergy and laity, who were delighted to find themselves governed with reason.

Chapter 4. Deaths of Walter Giffard and the Duchess Sibylla —Their epitaphs — Continued hostilities in Normandy.

                    [15th July 1102] At the same time, several distinguished barons in Normandy, namely, Walter Giffard, William de Breteuil, and Ralph de Conches, departed this life, and were succeeded by young men. Walter Giffard, earl of Buckingham, died in England, and his body was brought over to Normandy, as he had ordered, and buried at the entrance of the church of the blessed Virgin Mary, at Longueville1. His epitaph was inscribed on the wall, which was ornamented with pictures:
                
                    Among his sires, the lords of Longueville,
                
                    His bones to rest was WALTER GIFFARD'S will;
                
                    Borne hither from fair England's shores to lie
                
                    In his own work, St. Mary's priory.
                
                    The generous knight, his country's faithful son,
                
                    Gave to religion what his valour won;
                
                    And Cluni's grateful monks rejoice to raise
                
                    This pictured tablet to their founder's praise.
                
                    Note 1. Longueville-la-Giffard, near Dieppe. Walter Giffard, the second of that name, died July 15, 1102. He founded in 1084 the priory of Sainte-Foi at Longueville. It was this lord who was with the army of William Rufus when he invaded the Vexin in 1097, and not his father, Walter L, as wo stated in mistake, The latter died before 1084.

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[Before 18th March 1103] The monks of Cluni paid great honours to this baron's memory, and commended his soul to the Lord God by incessant prayers, mindful of the berefits they richly enjoyed on his foundation at Longueville. His wife Agnes was sister of Anselm de Ribemont, and fifteen years after their marriage gave birth to a son [Walter Giffard 2nd Earl Buckingham], who was named Walter¹. After his father's death, she carefully educated him until he arrived at manhood, and managed his hereditary domains for him many years with great prudence. This lady, giving way to the feelings of her sex, formed an affection for Duke Robert (age 52); and entangled him in an illicit connection, by the blandishments of love. Promising him succour against his enemies, both from her own resources and those of her powerful relations, she induced the silly duke to engage that on the death of his present wife [Sybilla Conversano Duchess Normandy], he would not only marry her, but entrust to her the government of the whole of Normandy.

Note 1. Walter Giffard, third of that name, died in 1164, according to Robert du Mont (Hist. de France, t. xiii. p. 309), without leaving any issue by his wife Ermengarde.

                    [18th March 1103] Not long afterwards the duchess Sibylla took to her bed infected by poison, and died in the season of Lent, to general sorrow.1. William, archbishop of Rouen, celebrated her obsequies with the clergy and people, respectfully interring her in the church of St. Mary [Map], mother of God. Her grave in the nave of the church is covered with a polished slab of white marble, on which the following epitaph may be distinctly seen. |
                
                    Not birth, nor beauty, rank, or power,
                
                    Can lengthen this life's fleeting hour;
                
                    Ev'n the illustrious SIBYLLE must,
                
                    Laid in this tomb, return to dust.
                
                    Apulia mourns her daughter's fate,
                
                    And Normandy is desolate;
                
                    The duchess gone, whose conduct pure,
                
                    And all that could her hopes secure
                
                    The wisdom to promote her weal
                
                    And liberal hand her wounds to heal
                
                    She lost, when in the Golden Fleece
                
                    The bright sun shone: God give her peace.
                
                    Note 1. This duchess had, according to the continuator of Jumieges, more intelligence and ‘capacity for business than her husband, who often entrusted her with the administration of affairs during his absence. Sibylla paid dearly during her short residence in Normandy for the mistake she made in quitting the delicious climate and advanced civilization of Italy to attach herself to a prince who possessed neither talent nor morals.

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Chapter XVIII. The battle of Bremule, or Noyon, between Henry of England and Lewis of France — Soon after his defeat Lewis makes a second irruption into Normandy, but retreats at the approach of Henry's army

1119. Meanwhile King Lewis effected his retreat into France with the utmost expedition, but quickly counter-marched from Etampes into Normandy, attended by some brave knights. On the twentieth day of the month of August, King Henry having heard mass at Noyon marched out with his principal nobles on an expedition against the French, not knowing that the king of France had arrived at Andeli.¹ The king of England rode at the head of a gallant troop of men-at-arms, and caused the harvest in the fields² about Etrepagni to be reaped by his rapacious soldiery, giving orders that great sheaves of com should be carried on the backs of their horses to the castle of Lions. Four knights were stationed by the king on the top of Verclive³, to keep watch against any opposition that might be offered to his enterprise. These sentinels, observing the helmets and standards of troops moving towards Noyon, gave immediate notice to King Henry.

Note 1. Henry did not put himself in marching order until he heard that Lewis had retired. As long as he thought that Lewis-le-Gros was in the Vexin, he prudently shut himself up at Rouen, although fire and pillage were carried within four miles of his capital city. The king of France, notwithstanding his corpulence, for which he is jeered by the Norman writers, was become very active.

Note 2. It may be thought strange that on the 20th of August the corn should be still standing on the plains of the Vexin; but it must be recollected that there, as well as elsewhere during the middle ages, it principally consisted of late crops, barley and oats.

Note 3. This place standing on an isolated hill, near Écouia, commands the whole plain of the Norman Vexin to a vast distance.

The same day King Lewis marched from Andeli with the French army, making frequent complaints to his attendants that they could not meet with the king of England in an open field, not knowing that the king was close at hand, Lewis rode in haste with his brilliant cavalry towards Noyon, expecting that the castle would be given up to him the same day, by a concerted treason, but the affair turned out very differently. Victory did not favour those who were swelling with pride and eager for the fight, but routed and put them to flight when they were exulting in the prospect triumph. Burchard de Montmorenci¹, and some other prudent men, dissuaded Lewis from fighting in Normandy, but the people of Chaumont urged him furiously to give battle. William the chamberlain² also tried to prevent Henry in engaging in the conflict, but William de Warrenne³ and Roger de Bienfaite⁴ gave him great encouragement. At last, it was generally understood, by the exchange of messengers, and by rumours which spread the intelligence far and wide, that both kings were in presence at the head of their armies, and, if they wished, battle might be joined. The French had by this time reached the neighbourhood of Noyon, and had set fire to a granary belonging to the monks Boucheron⁵, the smoke of which was visible to the English as it rose in the air. Near Mount Verclive there an open ground and vast plain, called by the inhabitants bhe country Brémule.⁶ King Henry descended to it [?] five hundred cavalry, the warlike hero having put on armour and skilfully disposed his mailed troops. He had with him his two sons, Robert and Richard, illustrious knights, and three counts, Henry d'Eu, William de Warrenne, and Walter Giffard. The king was also supported by Roger, son of Roger, and Walter d'Aufay, his own cousins,^1a as well as bv William de Tankerville, William de Roumare, Nigel d'Aubigni, and several others who may be compared to the Scipios, the Mariuses, and the Catos, the Roman censors, for their civil virtues and knightly valour as the result proved. Edward of Salisbury^2a carried the standard, whose approved intrepidity was in high renown and never failed him even when fighting to the death.

Note 1. Bouchard III de Montmorenci. He was still living in the year 1124.

Note 2. William de Tankerville (the Normans spelt the name Tancarville), the same person who the year before stopped Henry's expedition against [?]le by a false alarm.

Note 3. William de Warrenne, second of that name, earl of Surrey.

Note 4. Roger de Bienfaite, lord of Hommet, which he received in exchange Brionne.

Note 5. The foundation of this priory, which was a cell of St. Evroult, is mentioned before, p. 419. Our author here speaks of a grange which stood on plain.

Note 6. This plain belongs to the commune of Gaillardbois. and is traversed be public road from Rouen to Paris. To the south of this road lies farm of Brémule which appears to have been the central point of the battle, and gave it its name, at least in the French accounts; some English historians, calling it the battle of Noyon, Henry's head quarters, three leagues distant. Duchesne's text calls the place Brenneville, but the original MS. gives the right name BRENMULA.

Note 1a. Walter d'Aufay was Henry's cousin in two ways; by his great grandmother Papia, sister of Duke Robert I., and by his mother Beatrix, [?] of Queen Matilda. Walter was probably the third son of the VI d'Aufay and Aricia, some account of whom, with their epitaphs, is j in vol. ii. pp. 268—270.

Note 2a. This person had large possessions at Salisbury and in that ndgh hood. His daughter Matilda, by order of William Rufus married Humphrey de Bohun, who had in her right part of their vast domains, rest were inherited by Edward's son, Walter of Salisbury.

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King Henry,¹ having now after great exertions put his affairs in Normandy into excellent order, resolved on re-crossing the sea and bestowing large rewards on his young esquires and most distinguished knights, some of whom he proposed to raise to high honours and ample wealth in England. Accordingly, he commanded a fleet to be immediately fitted out, and a large body of troops of all ranks to be ready to accompany him.

Note 1. Ordericus proceeds to relate the circumstances of Henry I's departure from Normandy, and the shipwreck of the Blanche-Nef, as if they formed part of the occurrences of the year 1119, and followed in course after the king's interview with Pope Calixtus at Gisors, and the synod of Rouen which took place in the month of November of that year. According, however, to the unanimous testimony of all the other cotemporary historians, it was not till December, 1120, that the calamitous event occurred, the details of which, preserved by our author alone, give a melancholy intcrest to the remainder of the present chapter. But Ordericus omits all the intermediate facts, some of which are important: among which may be mentioned the meeting of the two kings, where William, the young prince, did homage for Normandy to Lewis-le-Gros, in the presence and by command of his father. A document is preserved which leaves no doubt on the true date of the disaster here described; it is a charter of King Henry to the abbey of Cerisi, dated at Barfleur, November 21, 1120, four days, therefore, before his embarkation. It is probable that our author was led into this serious error on the authority of the chronicle of his own abbey of St. Evroult, which appears to have had the entry made in it before Ordericus compiled this part of his history. See the extracts from the chronicle of St. Evroult appended to this work,

[November 1120] Meanwhile, Ralph de Guader, being apprehensive of the disloyalty of the Normans, who submitted to him with reluctance on account of their attachment to Eustace their former lord, and reflecting that he possessed Guader, Montfort, and other fortified towns and large domains, his own patrimonial inheritance, in Brittany, affianced his daughter [Amice Gael Countess Leicester] to Richard, the son of king Henry;¹ who consented to and approved of the alliance, and gave as her dowry Breteuil, Gloz, and Lire, and the whole of the fief he held in Normandy. But the design was frustrated and came to nothing, God, who rules all things well, having ordained otherwise. For the lady² here mentioned afterwards married Robert earl of Leicester (age 16), with whom she lived many years.

Note 1. Malmesbury informs us that Richard (age 19) was King Henry's son by a woman of low rank, born before his accession to the throne; but that Henry had a great regard for him on account of his intrepid character and filial obedience. He was, therefore, considerably older than his brother William, the heir apparent to the throne.

Note 2. Amicia de Guader, married to Robert the Hunchback, earl of Leicester, son of Robert, Count de Meulan.

[25th November 1120] In this voyage a sad disaster happened which caused much lamentation and innumerable tears to flow. Thomas, the son of Stephen, had obtained an audience of the king, and offering him a gold mark, said to him, "Stephen, the son of Airard,³ was my father, and during his whole life he was in your father's service as a mariner. He it was who conveyed your father to England in his own ship, when he crossed the sea to make war on Harold. He was employed by your father in services of this description as long as he lived, and gave him such satisfaction that he honoured him with liberal rewards, so that he lived in great credit and prosperity among those of his own class. My lord king, I ask you to employ me in the same service, having a vessel, called the Blanche-Nef,⁴ which is fitted out in the best manner, and perfectly adapted to receive a royal retinue." The king replied: "I grant your request; but I have already selected a ship which suits me, and I shall not change: however, I entrust to you my sons, William and Richard, whom I love as myself, with many of the nobility of my realm."

Note 1. It is very possible that this mariner was the person described In Domesday Book as a tenant in capite in Berkshire, under the name of Stefanus, Eirardi filius, the grant of lands being part of the rewards mentioned a few lines further on.

Note 2. Candida navis. [i.e. White, or Bright, Ship.]

The mariners were in great glee at hearing this, and greeting the king's son with fair words asked him to give them something to drink. The prince gave orders that they should have three muids¹. No sooner was the wine delivered to them than they had a great drinking bout, and pledging their comrades in full cups, indulged too much and ecame intoxicated. By the king's command many barons with their sons embarked in the Blanche-Nef, and there were in all, as far as I can learn, three hundred souls om board the ill-fated ship. But two monks of Tyron, Count Stephen,² with two men-at-arms, William de Roumare, Rabel the chamberlain,³ Edward of Salisbury,⁴ and several others came on shore, having left the vessel upon observing that it was overcrowded with riotous and headstrong youths. The crew consisted of fifty experienced rowers, besides an armed marine force,⁵ who were very disorderly, and as soon as they got on board insolently took possession of the benches of the rowers, and being very drunk forgot their station, and scarcely paid respect to any one. Alas! How many, among the company embarked, were without the slightest feeling of devotion towards God,

Qui maris immodicas moderatur, et aéris, iras!

‘Who rules the storm, and calms the raging sea.

Note 1. "muid". The French term "muid", means cask, derives from the Latin word modius, which means main measurement.

Note 2. Stephen of Blois, count of Mortain.

Note 3. William de Roumare is mentioned before (vol, iii. p, 482), as present with William de Tankerville at the battle of Bremull. Rabel was the son of the latter by Matilda d'Arques, and his father still living, M. Deville supposed that the title of chamberlain is here given him by anticipation. M. Le Prevost, however, remarks that we should rather consider the word to be an hereditary designation than a positive title of office. Thus the family were called the chamberlains of Tankerville, or simply the chamberlains, long after the office had passed into other hands. So we have the Butlers, Stewarts, &c.

Note 4. Edward of Salisbury is also mentioned in the place just referred to and the note subjoined.

Note 5. Schippe, from a German root, whence are derived the German schiff, the French esquif, and the English ship, skiff, and skipper.

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They even drove away with contempt, amidst shouts of laughter, the priests who came to bless them, with the other ministers who carried the holy water; but they were speedily punished for their mockery. Besides the king's treasure and some casks of wine, there was no cargo in Thomas's ship, which was full of passengers; and they urged him to use his utmost endeavours to overtake the royal fleet which was already ploughing the waves. In his drunken folly, Thomas, confident in his seamanship and the skill of his crew, rashly boasted that he would soon leave behind him all the ships that had started before them. At last, he gave the signal for departure; the sailors seized the oars without a moment's delay, and, unconscious of the fate which was imminently impending, joyously handled the ropes and sails, and made the ship rush through the water at great rate. But as the drunken rowers exerted themselves to the utmost in pulling the oars, and the luckless pilot steered at random and got the ship out of its due course, the starboard bow of the Blanche-Nef struck violently on a huge rock,¹ which is left dry, every day, when the tide is out, and covered by the waves at igh water. Two planks having been shattered by the crash, the ship, alas! filled and went down.

Note 1. Historians have preserved the name of the rock on which the ship struck; super scopulos qui dicuntur Chaterase [above the rocks which are called Chaterase]. The French editors of Ordericus suppose that these rocks are what are now called le Raz de Gatteville (formerly called Catteville), to the north of Barfleur. Chaterase they consider to mean the Raz-de-Catteville. Barfleur, near Cherbourg, enjoyed a considerable commerce in the middle ages, and was a common port of embarkation for England from that part of Normandy.

At this fearful moment, the passengers and crew raised cries of distress, but their mouths were soon stopped by the swelling waves, and all perished together, except two who seized hold of the yard from which the sail was set. They hung on to it the greater part of the night, in earnest hope that they would receive aid in some shape or other. One of these men was a butcher of Rouen, of the name of Berold; the other, a young man of gentle birth whose name was Geoffrey, the son of Gilbert de I'Aigle.¹

Note 1. See before, b. viii. c. 12. Gilbert de I'Aigle, his father Engenulf, and other lords of that family are frequently mentioned in the previous history.

The moon was at this time in her nineteenth day in the constellation of the Bull, and gave light to the world for nine hours, so that all objects on the surface of the sea were clearly visible to the sailors.¹ Thomas, the master of this vessel, after his first plunge into the sea, gained fresh energy, and, recovering his senses, raised his head above the water, and perceiving the two men clinging to the yard-arm, cried out: "What has become of the king's son?" The shipwrecked men replied that he and all who were with him had perished. "Then," said he, "it is misery for me to live any longer." Having said this, he abandoned himselt to his fate in utter despair, preferring to meet it at once, rather than face the rage of the king in his indignation for the loss of his children, or drag out his existence and expiate his crime in a dungeon. Meanwhile, Berold and Geoffrey, hanging by the yard-arm over the waters, called upon God to save them, and encouraging one another, waited in fearful anxiety for the end to which it should please him to bring their misery.

Note 1. M. Le Prevost remarks that he is under the painful necessity of apprising the reader that this circumstance, which lends so poetical a character to our author's narrative, is entirely apocryphal, being inapplicable either to November 25, 1119, which was not the 19th but the 21st day of the moon, and when she was not in the sign of Taurus but in that of Leo; or to November 25, 1120, which was so near the new moon that she was invisible during the greater part of the night.

The night was bitterly cold and frosty, so that the young Geoffrey, after severe sufferings from the severity of the weather, lost his powers of endurance, and commending his companion to God, fell into the' sea and disappeared. Berold, however, who was the poorest man of all the company, and wore a sheep-skin dress, was the only one among so many who survived till the dawn of another day. In the morning, three fishermen took him into their skiff, and thus he only reached the land. Having a little revived, he related all the particulars of the sad event to the crowd of anxious inquirers, and lived afterwards for twenty years in good health.

Roger, bishop of Coutances,¹ had conducted on board the devoted ship his son William, who had been just appointed by the king one of his four principal chaplains, with his brother and three gallant nephews, and had given them his episcopal benediction, though they made light of it. The bishop and many others who still lingered with him on the sea-shore, as well as the king, and those who accompanied him, though they were a long way out at sea, heard the fearful cries of distress raised by the shipwrecked crew and passengers, but they did not learn what caused the shrieks until the next day, and marvelling what it could be, conversed about it, some saying one thing, some another.

Note 1. Roger, bishop of Coutances, 1114—October, 1123.

The melancholy news soon got abroad among the common people, and, spreading along the sea-coast, came to the ears of count Theobald¹ and other lords of the court; but for that day no one ventured to make it known to the king, who was in a state of great anxiety and made many inquiries. The nobles shed many tears in private, and were inconsolable for the loss of their friends and relations; but in the king's presence, severe as was the struggle, they concealed their grief, lest its cause should be discovered. On the day following, by a well-devised plan of Count Theobald's, a boy threw himself at the king's feet, weeping bitterly, and upon his being questioned as to the cause of his sorrow, the king learnt from him the shipwreck of the Blanche-Nef. So sudden was the shock, and so severe his anguish, that he instantly fell to the ground, but being raised up by his friends, he was conducted to his chamber, and gave free course to the bitterness of his grief. Not Jacob was more woe-stricken for the loss of Joseph, nor did David give vent to more woeful lamentations for the murder of Ammon or Absalom.

Note 1. Theobald, Count de Blois.

When such was the grief of their sovereign, all the servants of the crown no longer strove to conceal their sorrow, and their lamentations continued for many days. The people also mourned for William the etheling,¹ whom they considered the lawful heir to the throne of England, and who thus suddenly perished with the flower of her highest nobility. The young prince had at this time almost reached his seventeenth year; he had just married the lady Matilda, who was nearly of his own age; and lately, by his father's command, he had exultingly received the homage of all the great men of the realm. On him securely rested his father's love, the people's hopes; but short-sighted and sinful mortals scan in vain the decrees of the supreme and infallible Judge respecting his creatures, and the wicked go on in their transgressions until, like the fish caught by the hook, or the bird ensnared in the toils, they are irretrievably involved in endless misery. While such a man promises himself length of days, prosperity, and honour, he quickly falls into sudden destruction, misery, and ruin, as it has happened in daily occurrences from the beginning of the world to the present day, and may be clearly proved by the testimonies both of ancient and modern writers.²

Note 1. It does not appear from our own historians that the English felt any great regret for the loss of their young prince, apart from the shock which so melancholy a catastrophe must have naturally caused. Henry of Huntingdon attributes to him excessive pride and hauteur, and Brompton quotes William of Malmesbury us saying that he openly threatened the English that "if he came to reign over them, he would make them draw the plough like oxen." See Huntingdon's letter to Walter, p. 306, and Malmesbury's Mod. Hist. p. 454, in Antiq. Lb.

Note 2. Our author, with his usual discretion, makes only a very slight allusion to the prevalent opinion of the times, particularly among the clergy, that the shipwreck was a just judgment of Heaven on an unnatural vice which was very common among the young nobles who were lost in the Blanche-Nef, Henry of Huntingdon makes the charge in direct terms. See his History, p. 249, in Antiq. Lib. Duke Robert himself was commonly accused of such practices, as we have before seen, and is said to have introduced them into Normandy on his return from the east.

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The sorrowful king mourned for his sons, the flower of his nobility, and his principal barons, and especially he deplored the loss of Ralph the Red, and Gilbert d'Exmes, frequently recounting, with tears in his eyes, their deeds of prowess. The nobles as well as the commons lamented their superior lords, their children and kingsfolk, their acquaintance and friends; affianced damsels those to whom they were betrothed and beloved wives ther loving husbands. I desire not to dwell on this mournful theme, and will only quote one short poem of a distinguished versifier:¹

Accidit hora gravis, Thomaque miserrima navis,	It happens in a heavy hour, and Thomas, the most miserable ship,
Quam male recta terit, rupe soluta perit.	Which badly wears away the straight path, perishing by the loosened rock.
Flebilis eventus, dum nobilis illa juventus	A lamentable event, while that noble youth
Est immersa mari, perditione pari.	Is sunk in the sea, with an equal destruction.
Jactatur pelago regum generosa propago,	It is tossed on the sea, the noble offspring of kings,
Quosque duces plorant monstra marina vorant,	Whom the leaders lament, the marine monsters devour.
O ‘dolor immensus! nec nobilitas, neque census	O immense grief! Neither nobility nor wealth
Ad vitam revocat, quos maris unda necat, -	Calls back to life those whom the wave of the sea kills,
Purpura cum bisso liquida putrescit abysso;	Purple with fine linen rots in the liquid abyss;
Rex quoque quem genuit, piscibus esca fuit.	And the king whom he begot, became food for the fish.
Sic sibi fidentes ludit Fortuna potentes;	Thus, trusting in themselves, Fortune plays with the powerful;
Nunc dat, nunc demit; munc levat, inde premit.	Now she gives, now she takes away; now she lifts, then she presses.
Quid numerus procerum, quid opes, quid gloria rerum,	What is the number of the nobles, what is wealth, what is glory of things,
Quid, Gulielme, tibi forma valebat ibi?	What, William, did your form matter there?
Marecuit ille decor regalis, et abstulit squor	That royal beauty withered, and the filth took away
Quod factus fueras, quodque futurus eras.	What you had been made, and what you were about to be.
Inter aquas istis instat damnatio tristis,	Among those waters, a sad condemnation presses on,
Ni pietas gratis celica parcat eis.	Unless heavenly piety spares them freely.
Corporibus mercis anime si dona salutis	If the bodies of merchandise had received the gifts of salvation,
Nacte gauderent, mesta procul fierent.	They would rejoice, far off from sorrow.
Certa salus anime verum dat tripudiare	Certain salvation of the soul gives the truth to rejoice
His bene, qui caros commemorant proprios.	For these well, who commemorate their dear ones.
Hinc dolor est ingens humana quod inscia fit mens,	Hence, there is immense pain in humanity, because the mind becomes ignorant,
An requies sit eis, quos quatit uda Thetis.	Or whether there is rest for them, whom the wet Thetis shakes.

Note 1. Whoever was the "versifier," perhaps Ordericus himself, even so fine a subject failed of inspiring his genius, and his lines are ouly remarkable for their rhymes and antitheses. Henry of Huntingdon, "one of the few composers of Latin verse in that age who rose above the common level," has some spirited lines on the subject, of which a free version is given in his History, p. 249, in the Antig. Lib.

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"The fatal hour is come, and Thomas's ill-fated ship, badly steered, struck on a rock and was wrecked! Melancholy event, when that youthful nobility was engulfed in the sea in one common ruin! The illustrious offspring of kings suffer shipwreck, and sea-monsters devour those whom princes deplore. O boundless grief! neither nobility nor fortune can recall to life those who are drowned in the sea. Purple and fine linen rot in its depths, and the children of kings are the food of fishes. Thus fortune mocks those who trust to its smiles; it gives, it takes away, it raises up and casts down. ‘What availed thee, O William! thy numerous retinue of nobles, thy wealth, thy glory, or thy grace of form P—All the royal splendour has vanished, and for thee the waves have obliterated both the past and the future. Damnation pursues them in those dark waters, should not divine mercy vouchsafe to spare them. If, at the cost of their lives, their souls are saved, they will have reason to rejoice. Those may well exult who have a sure hope that the loved relatives whom they remember in their prayers have their salvation secured. But it is a grievous affliction to have no certainty that those who are engulfed in the sea enjoy everlasting rest."

What mortal tongue can fully recount the numbers of those who had to mourn this fatal disaster, or the numerous domains which were deprived of their lawful heirs, to the great detriment of many persons? As we have already said, the king's sons, William and Richard, were amongst those who perished, with their sister Matilda, wife of Rotrou, count of Mortain.¹ There were also Richard, the young earl of Chester, distinguished for his bravery and kindness of heart; with his wife Matilda,² sister of Theobald, count palatine. Othere, his brother, son of Hugh, earl of Chester, and governor and tutor of the king's youngest son, at the moment when the Blanche-Nef went down and the nobles were hopelessly buried in the waves, took, as it is reported, the young prince in his arms, and sinking with him, they were never again seen. Theodoric, the nephew of Henry, emperor of Germany,³ a mere boy; also two beautiful sons of Ives de Grantmesnil, with their cousin, William de Rhuddlan⁴, who was proceeding to England by the king's command to take possession of the inheritance of his ancestors in that country; William, surnamed Bigod,⁵ William de Pirou,⁶ the king's steward; Geoffery Ridel⁷ Hugh de Moulins,⁸ Robert Mauconduit,⁹ and Gisulf, the king's iniquitous secretary; all these, and many other persons of distinction were swallowed up by the sea. Relations and acquaintances, comrades and friends, wailed their miserable fate, when, in different countries, they learnt the desolation and bereavements occasioned by their death. It is said of those who perished that there were no less than eighteen females who were either daughters, sisters, nieces, or wives of kings or earls.

Note 1. Malmesbury calls her the countess of Perche. Mortain was the capital of Perche, and gave that title to the counts. Rotrou's father Geoffrey being still living (see afterwards, b. xiii. c. 1), he may have been called count of Perche, Ordericus gives him the title of Count of Mortain by anticipation, Malmesbury relates an affecting incident in the fate of this lady which, with that mentioned a few lines below of the conduct of Othere, Richard's governor, are redeeming traits in the characters of two of the sufferers in a group of whom, generally, so little good is said. The historian informs us that "the water having washed some of the crew overboard and entering the chinks drowned others, the boat was launched, and the young prince getting into it might certainly have been saved by reaching the shore, had not his illegitimate sister, the countess of Perche, now struggling with death in the larger vessel, implored her brother's assistance, shrieking out that he should not abandon her so barbarously. Touched with pity, he ordered the boat to return to the ship, that he might rescue his sister; and thus the unhappy youth met his death through excess of affection; for the skiff, overcharged by the multitude who leaped into it, sank, and buried all indiscriminately in the deep." Mod. Hist. p. 456, Antig. Lib.

Note 2. The king's niece.

Note 3. Probably a son of Agnes, the emperor's sister, and Frederick, duke of Suabia.

Note 4. William de Rhuddlan, son of Robert de Rhuddlan, See b. viii. c, 3. (Vol. iii, pp. 443—454.)

Note 5. Probably a son or brother of Roger Bigod.

Note 6. William, lord of Pirou, near Lessai, whose family, and probably this lord, were benefactors to the abbey of Lessai. They were also re-established in England, where they gave their name to Stoke-Pirou, or Pero, in Somersetshire. We find in the Monast. Anglican. ii. p. 7, a charter of Henry I. with the subscription, Ego Quiielmus Pirou, dapifer, which would seem to prove that this person escaped the shipwreck, as his signature is preceded by that of the queen, Adelaide of Louvaine.

Note 7. He was son-in-law of Hugh d'Avranches, earl of Chester. His widow Geva founded the abbey of Canwell in Staffordshire. See Monast. Anglic., i. p. 439. Her daughter married Richard Basset, and their son, Geoffrey Basset, who lived in the time of Henry II., resumed the name of Ridel.

Note 8. Third son of William de Moulins.

Note 9. In a transaction between the abbey of Fécamp and Philip de Braiouse in 1103 (Mon. Amnglic., ii. p. 973), we find a Gulielmus Mulus Conductus, who was probably father of the Gerson here named.

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Concern for others has been my only motive in furnishing these details, which, having collected from authentic informa tion, I am induced to record for the benefit of future ages. For myself, I have none to mourn, except from common feelings of pity, as no one of my kindred was swallowed up in that horrible gulf, for whom I had to shed the tears which flow for the loss of those who are of our own blood.

The dwellers on the coast, as soon as they ascertained that the reports of the disaster was well founded, dragged to the shore the wreck of the ship, with the whole of the royal treasure; and almost all that was in the vessel, the crew and passengers excepted, was recovered. Active men were diligently employed on the seventh of the calends of December [25th November], while the faithful were celebrating the feast of St. Catherine,¹ virgin and martyr, in searching along the coast for the bodies of those who were drowned, but finding none, they lost their expected rewards. Rich lords caused diligent inquiries to be made in all quarters for good swimmers and experienced divers, and offered them large sums for any bodies of their deceased friends which could be recovered, in order that they might be buried with due honor.

Note 1. The 25th November is the feast of St. Catherine; but if the ship was wrecked on the night between the 25th and 26th, as our author has before stated, the search for the bodies could not have commenced before the 26th.

The tenants on the fief of Mortain especially exerted themselves, as almost all the lords and men of distinction in that county had perished in the wreck of the Blanche-Nef. The count only, as I have aiready mentioned, who was suffering from diarrhea, with two men-at-arms, Robert de Sauqueville, and one Walter, escaped; having providentiall quitted the vessel in which those who remained were lost; and, going on board the king's own ship, they crossed the sea in safety.! However, the bodies of earl Richard and several others were found some days after the shipwreck far from the spot where the vessel was lost; having been carried to the spot by the force of the currents, as the tide daily ebbed and flowed; and their persons were identified by those who were acquainted with them, from the clothes they were.

In the year of our Lord, 1134, the twelfth indiction, Robert II duke of Normandy (age 83) died at Cardiff [Map] in Britain, in the month of February, twenty-eight years after he had been taken prisoner at Tinchebrai and immured in his brother's dungeon. He lies buried in the abbey of the monks of St. Peter at Gloucester [Map].

Chapter 19. The illness and death of Henry I—His funeral—Measures taken for securing order in Normandy.

Meanwhile, Henry king of England (age 67), having arrived at the castle of Lions [Map]¹ on the seventh of the calends of December [25th November 1135], gave orders to his huntsmen to be ready to attend him for the chace in the woods on the next day. But during the night he suddenly fell sick, and lay at the point of death from Tuesday till the following Sunday. In the course of that time he confessed his sins to his chaplains;² and then, sending for Hugh, archbishop of Rouen, he requested his spiritual counsels. By his admonitions, the king released criminals from all forfeitures, permitted all exiles to return to their homes, and restored those whom he had disinherited to their paternal estates. He gave orders to his son Robert to take out of his treasury, which was under his charge at Falaise, sixty thousand livres, and distribute it in pay and donatives to his household servants and hired troops.³ He commanded that his body should be carried to Reading, where he had founded a monastery for two hundred monks, in honour of the Holy and Undivided Trinity.⁴

Note 1. The castle of Lions [Map] was a favourite hunting seat of the Norman dukes and kings, in a forest of the same name, about six leagues from Rouen. Henry arrived there on Monday November 25. Henry of Huntingdon mentions, that his illness was caused by eating lampreys, of which he was immoderately fond. P. 259, Antig. Lib.

Note 2. It was the abbot of Reading, who, happening to be in the neighbourhood, was first summoned to administer the consolations of religion to the king. He afterwards sent to the archbishop of Rouen, who gives the following account of his last hours in a letter to Pope Innocent, preserved by William of Malmesbury: "I went to him and stayed there, full of grief, three days. At my instance, he confessed his sins, and beat his breast with his own hand, dismissing all ill-will. By the divine counsels given him by me and the bishops, he often promised that he would lead a better life. After that promise, as my duty was, I gave him absolution for the third time in three days, He adored the crucifix, received with devotion the body and blood of our Lord, and ordered alms to be distributed, thus saying: ‘Let my debts be paid, all wages and stipends be discharged, and the rest be given amongst the poor.'"

At the king's death, there was found in his treasury at Winchester, say the historians, more than a hundred thousand livres, of exquisite coinage. There were also vessels of gold and silver, of massive weight and inestimable value, collected by the ancient kings, with magnificent additions by Henry himself.

Note 3. Our author omits noticing, that he bequeathed his immense heritage to his daughter, without making any mention of his son-in-law, "being incensed against her husband, exasperated by his threats, and even injuries."

Note 4. This is not quite exact. The abbey of Reading was dedicated to the blessed Virgin and St. John, as we have already observed.

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Lastly, this catholic prince besought all persons to preserve peace and protect the poor. Then, after having made his confession, he received penance and absolution from the priests, and receiving extreme unction, and being strengthened by the holy eucharist, commended himself to God, and departed this life on the calends of December [1st December [1135]], being Sunday, early in the night. There were then assembled five counts, Robert of Gloucester (age 36), William de Warrenne, Rotrou of Mortain (age 55), Waleran of Mellent (age 31), and Robert of Leicester (age 31),¹ besides several other lords, captains, and noble castellans: all of whom were entreated by Hugh the archbishop, and Ouen, bishop of Evreux, not to forsake their master's corpse unless by common consent, but to conduct it to the sea side, all together, in an honourable escort.

Note 1. Robert, earl of Gloucester, the king's natural son; William de Warrenne, earl of Surrey, probably the third of that name, as his father William had died in the course of the year; Rotrou II., Count du Perche; Waleran, count, or earl, of Mellent; and Robert the Hunchback, earl of Leicester.

[2nd December 1135]. On Monday they bore the royal corpse from the castle of Lions to Rouen,² twenty thousand men attending it, that no honour should be wanting in the obsequies. It was received with great pomp in the cathedral church of St. Mary, mother of God, all ranks of men and persons of both sexes shedding floods of tears during the solemnity. During the night the body, which was very fat, was opened by a skilful surgeon, and embalmed with sweet spices.² The entrails were carried in an urn to Emendreville, and deposited in the church of St. Mary-du-Pré, which his mother began and he finished.

Note 1. The corpse was carried by the high nobles, relieving each other at intervals. From the distance between the castle of Lions and Rouen just stated, it must have been a long and toilsome journey.

Note 2. So far from this, the embalment was performed in the most clumsy and offensive manner. "The body, being slashed by knives, and copiously sprinkled with salt, was sewn up in ox-hides to prevent the ill effluvia, which so filled the air as to be pestilential to the bystanders," says Henry of Huntingdon. A better process was introduced from the east in the following century, precious aromatics being substituted for salt. Thus the heart of St. Lewis was preserved. The embalment of King Baldwin, in 1118, though performed in the east, was done according to the primitive rude process, salt being the principal ingredient. But Baldwin died in the desert.

Thereupon, the government of Rouen and the district of Caux was committed, by order of the council, to William de Warrenne,¹ who protected the people for some time, much to their advantage. William de Roumare, and Hugh de Gournay,² and other lords-marchers, were directed to defend the borders of the duchy; Robert de Sigillo, and some other clerks³, with Robert de Vere⁴, John Algason⁵, and other English knights, and the guards and officers of the royal household, assembled together, and conducted the king's bier to Caen, by way of Pontaudemer and Bonneville.⁶

Note 1. William III. de Warrenne, earl of Surrey, mentioned just before.

Note 2. William de Roumare, second of that name, also noticed. Hugh III. de Gournai.

Note 3. Robert de Sigillo, &c. These persons were members of the royal chancery. M. Dubois, indeed, the French translator of Ordericus, states in a note, that Robert's name was derived from Sigi in the arrondissement of Neufchétel. But it is evidently a name of office, Robert being chancellor, and wearing the seal of the late king, as M. Le Prevost observes, suspended from his neck.

Note 4. Robert de Ver, or Vere, was the son of Aubrey de Vere, the first of the name, or William de Vere; and consequently brother or cousin-german of Aubrey de Vere II. It is supposed that this family originated at Ver, in the arrondissement of Coutances.

Note 5. John Algason, brother of Guigan Algason, viscount d'Exmes.

Note 6. The funeral procession on this occasion proceeded by land, on the road through Pontaudemer and Bonneville-sur-Touque. Henry of Huntingdon gives a loathsome account of the state of the corpse while it lay in the church of St. Ouen at Caen [Map]. The last honours were not paid to the deceased king till January 6, 1136, when his body was interred at Reading.

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[3rd January 1135]. They were detained there for nearly four weeks, waiting a favourable wind to put to sea. During this time the corpse of the king was kept in the choir of the church of St. Stephen, the protomartyr; until, after Christmas, it was embarked on board ship by monks, employed in that duty, and carried over to England: it was then buried with great honours by the successor to the throne, and the bishops and great men of the realm, in the abbey-church at Reading.

Chapter 20 — Accession of King Stephen—He is crowned in England — The Normans, after some demur, acknowledge him as Duke.

15th December 1135. As soon as Stephen, count of Boulogne (age 41), heard of his uncle's death¹ he immediately crossed over to England, and being well received by William, archbishop of Canterbury, and the other bishops and temporal lords, ascended the throne, and was crowned on the eighteenth of the calends of January [15th December], being the fourth king of the Norman race who reigned in England.

Note 1. Stephen was probably at Boulogne when he heard of his uncle's death, and he lost not a moment in taking a swift vessel and crossing over to England. The auguries were unfavourable, for, on the morning of his embarkation, although it was in the depth of winter, there was a violent thunder-storm, and the peals were so loud, that people thought, we are told, that the end of the world was come.

Note 2. The coronation took place not on the 15th, but, according to most of the chroniclers, on the 26th of December, the feast of his patron saint, The ceremony was performed by William de Curboil, archbishop of Canterbury, with such carelessness, that he let the consecrated host fall on the ground. Perhaps his conscience was troubled by his perjury; of which all present were guilty, commencing with the archbishop himself, of whom it was predicted, that he would not outlive the year, in punishment of his treason; and this actually happened. It must be recollected, that Henry had caused all the great men of the realm to take the oath of fealty to his daughter, as his successor, twice at least; once at the council of Northampton, before she left England to be confined at Mans, the other ceremony dated back to a period anterior to Matilda's second marriage, probably in the winter or early spring-time of 1127. On this occasion, it was very solemn. The archbishop was the first of the ecclesiastics who took the oath, and after him followed all the bishops and abbots. Then came the king of Scots, Stephen count de Mortain, and the earl of Gloucester; and there was a great discussion among them as to which of them should swear first, It appears that there was a third oath of fealty after the birth of Prince Henry; but several of the great men who had taken the first, and among others Roger, bishop of Salisbury, pretended to be released from their obligation, the king having married his daughter to a foreigner without consulting them.

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[22nd August 1138] In the same week, a like good fortune smiled on King Stephen in another part of the kingdom. For the earl of Albemarle and Roger de Mowbray had an engagement with the king of Scotland,¹ and having put to the sword a multitude of the Scots, avenged the cruel slaughter which these people had made of the English without any respect for the Christian religion. The Scots, it appears, fearing the sword which threatened them, fled towards the water, and rushing into the river Tweed where there was no ford, in their attempt to escape death, met it by drowning. After the war had continued for a length of time between the two kings, and it had been accompanied by great atrocities on the one side and on the other, to the general loss, envoys were sent, by divine inspiration, to treat of peace between the two kings, now weary of pillage and slaughter, as well as of continual anxiety and toil; and thus their alliance was renewed.

Note 1. This is the famous battle of THE STANDARD, fought at Allerton, in Yorkshire, in the month of August, 1138, of which a fuller account is given by Huntingdon and Wendover. Our author anticipates, in noticing it in this place. Indeed, he very naturally treats only in a cursory manner of events in England during these troublesome times; while his details of detached enterprises in Normandy, where every castle was a den of freebooters, are only rivalled by those which give so much interest to the work of the anonymous author of the Gesta Stephani.