Down to the year 1077 the conduct of Robert Curthose towards the king had, so far as we can see, been exemplary. Even William of Malmesbury, while criticising his later insubordination, still pays tribute to his obedient youth.[1] But difficulties were now at hand. Robert was rapidly growing to manhood, and his character was unfolding. Reared among his father’s men-at-arms, residing much about the court, enjoying the privileged position and the social freedom of the king’s heir and successor designate, he had developed into a warrior of distinguished valor,[2] and into a chivalrous knight and courtier considerably in advance of the rude society of the eleventh century.[3] Short and thick-set, though probably the coarse full face and enormous paunch[4] of later years had not yet developed; fluent of speech, affable in bearing, and of a jovial disposition; generous to the point of prodigality, giving to all who asked with unstinting hand, and lavish of promises when more substantial rewards were lacking;[5] he had become the centre of interest and attraction for the younger set about the Norman court, and from some points of view a serious rival of his father. His position was not unlike that of Henry Fitz Henry, the ‘Young King,’ who nearly a century later created such grave problems for Henry II. He had long borne the title of count and had enjoyed an official, or semi-official, position about the court. He had long since been formally recognized as his father’s heir and successor. The barons had twice done him homage and sworn fealty to him as their lord and future master. He was titular ruler of Maine. And if, as two charters seem to indicate, he was in some way formally invested with the Norman duchy in 1077 or 1078,[6] the resemblance between his position and that of the Young King after his coronation in 1170 is even more striking.

Yet, with all these honors, Robert enjoyed no real power and exercised no active part in affairs of government. It was not the way of the Conqueror to part with any of his prerogatives prematurely; and if, for reasons of state, he bestowed formal honors upon his son, it was still his firm intention to remain sole master until the last within his own dominions. But for the young prince to continue thus in idleness, surrounded by a crowd of restless hangers-on of the younger nobility, was both costly and dangerous. Robert not unnaturally wished for an independent establishment and an income of his own;[7] but these the king was unwilling to provide. Robert, therefore, became dissatisfied; and the ambitious companions by whom he was surrounded were not slow to fan the embers of his growing discontent.[8] Apparently it was in the year 1078, or late in 1077,[9] that the unfortunate quarrel broke out which culminated in the siege of Gerberoy and a personal encounter between father and son upon the field of battle.

Upon the cause of the disagreement we are fortunate in having abundant testimony,[10] and it is possible to define the issue with some exactness. Prompted by the rash counsels of his time-serving companions, Robert went to the king and demanded that immediate charge of the government of Normandy and of Maine be committed forthwith into his hands. To Maine he based his claim upon his rights through Margaret, his deceased fiancÉe, to Normandy upon the twice repeated grant which his father had made to him, once before the Conquest, and afterwards at Bonneville, when the assembled barons had done him homage and pledged their fealty to him as their lord.[11]

If reliance may be placed upon the account of Ordericus Vitalis,[12] the Conqueror took some time to reflect upon his son’s demands and endeavored to reason with him about them.[13] He urged Robert to put away the rash young men who had prompted him to such imprudence and to give ear to wiser counsels. He explained that his demands were improper. He, the king, held Normandy by hereditary right, and England by right of conquest; and it would be preposterous to expect him to give them up to another. If Robert would only be patient and show himself worthy, he would receive all in due course, with the willing assent of the people and with the blessing of God. Let him remember Absalom and what happened to him, and beware lest he follow in the path of Rehoboam! But to all these weighty arguments Robert turned a deaf ear, replying that he had not come to hear sermons: he had heard such “ad nauseam” from the grammarians. His determination was immovably fixed. He would no longer do service to anyone in Normandy in the mean condition of a dependent. The king’s resolution, however, was equally firm. Normandy, he declared, was his native land, and he wished all to understand that so long as he lived he would never let it slip from his grasp.[14] The argument thus came to a deadlock; yet, apparently, there was no immediate break.[15] Relations doubtless continued strained, but Robert bided his time, perhaps seeking a more favorable opportunity for pressing his demands. At times he may even have appeared reconciled; yet no lasting settlement was possible so long as the cause of the discord remained.

The actual outbreak of open rebellion followed, it seems, directly upon a family broil among the king’s sons; and Ordericus Vitalis, with characteristic fondness for gossip, has not failed to relate the incident in great detail.[16] The Conqueror, so the story runs, was preparing an expedition against the Corbonnais and had stopped at Laigle in the house of a certain Gontier, while Robert Curthose had found lodgings nearby in the house of Roger of Caux. Meanwhile, Robert’s younger brothers, William and Henry, had taken umbrage at his pretensions and at the rash demands which he had made upon their father, and they were strongly supporting the king against him. While in this frame of mind they paid Robert a visit at his lodgings. Going into an upper room, they began dicing ‘as soldiers will’; and presently—doubtless after there had been drinking—they started a row and threw down water upon their host and his companions who were on the floor below. Robert was not unnaturally enraged at this insult, and with the support of his comrades[17] he rushed in upon the offenders, and a wild scuffle ensued, which was only terminated by the timely arrival of the king, who, upon hearing the clamor, came in haste from his lodgings and put a stop to the quarrel by his royal presence.[18]

Robert, however, remained sullen and offended; and that night, accompanied by his intimates, he withdrew secretly from the royal forces and departed. Riding straight for Rouen, he made the rash venture of attempting to seize the castle by a surprise attack, an action which seems almost incredible, except on the hypothesis that a conspiracy with wide ramifications was already under way. However this may be, the attack upon Rouen failed. Roger of Ivry, the king’s butler, who was guarding the castle, got word of the impending stroke, set the defences in order, and sent messengers in hot haste to warn the king of the danger. William was furious at his son’s treason, and ordered a wholesale arrest of the malcontents, thus spreading consternation among them and breaking up their plans. Some were captured, but others escaped across the frontier.[19]

The rising now spread rapidly among the king’s enemies on both sides of the border. Hugh of ChÂteauneuf-en-Thymerais promptly opened the gates of his castles at ChÂteauneuf, Sorel, and RÉmalard to the fugitives, and so furnished them with a secure base beyond the frontier from which to make incursions into Normandy. Robert of BellÊme also joined the rebel cause. Perhaps, indeed, it was through his influence that Hugh of ChÂteauneuf was persuaded to give succor to the rebels; for Hugh was his brother-in-law, having married his sister Mabel. Ralph de Toeny, lord of Conches, also joined the rebellion, and many others, among them doubtless being Ivo and Alberic of Grandmesnil and Aimeric de Villeray.[20] The border war which followed did not long remain a local matter. It was an event fit to bring joy to all King William’s enemies; and it caused a great commotion, we are told, not only in the immediate neighborhood of the revolt, but also in distant parts among the French and Bretons and the men of Maine and Anjou.[21]

The king, however, met the rebellion with his accustomed vigor and decision. He confiscated the lands of the rebels and turned their rents to the employment of mercenaries to be used against them. Apparently he had been on his way to make war upon Rotrou of Mortagne in the Corbonnais when his plans had been interrupted by the disgraceful brawl among his sons at Laigle.[22] He now abandoned that enterprise, and, making peace with Rotrou, took him and his troops into his own service. And thus raising a considerable army, he laid siege to the rebels in their stronghold at RÉmalard.[23] But of the outcome of these operations we have no certain knowledge. One of the insurgents at least, Aimeric de Villeray, was slain, and his son Gulfer was so terrified by his father’s tragic fate that he made peace with the king and remained thereafter unshakably loyal.

We hear, too, vaguely of a ‘dapifer’ of the king of France who was passing from castle to castle among the rebels.[24] What his business was we know not; but it seems not unlikely that King Philip was already negotiating with the insurgent leaders with a view to aiding and abetting their enterprise against his too powerful Norman vassal.[25] Philip had made peace with the Conqueror after the latter’s unsuccessful siege of Dol in 1076,[26] but the friendship of the two kings had not been lasting. Sound policy demanded that Philip spare no effort to curb the overweening power of his great Norman feudatory; and William had, therefore, to count upon his constant, if veiled, hostility.[27] The rebellion of Robert Curthose and his followers was Philip’s opportunity; and it seems not improbable that he looked upon the movement with favor and gave it encouragement from its inception. Clearly he made no effort to suppress it, though the fighting was going on within his own borders. And, in any case, before the end of 1078 he had definitely taken Robert Curthose under his protection and had assigned him the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis, close to the Norman frontier.[28] There Robert was received with his followers by royal castellans and promised every possible aid and support.

But this evidently was some months, at least, after the outbreak of Robert’s rebellion. As to his movements in the meantime, we hear little more than uncertain rumors. The sources are silent concerning the part which he played in the border warfare which centred around the castles of Hugh of ChÂteauneuf. We have it on the express statement of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle that Robert fled to his uncle, Robert the Frisian, count of Flanders;[29] and in this the Chronicle is confirmed by Ordericus Vitalis, who adds that he also visited Odo, bishop of Treves.[30] Other writers indicate simply that he withdrew into France.[31] Ordericus indeed, represents him as wandering much farther, and visiting noble kinsmen, “dukes, counts, and powerful townsmen (oppidani) in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and Gascony,” wasting his substance in dissolute living and reduced to poverty and beggary, and to borrowing of foreign usurers.[32] But such wanderings, if they actually occurred, it seems more natural to assign—since we are reduced to conjecture—to Robert’s second exile.[33] One incident, however, which concerns his mother, the queen, who died in 1083, must be assigned to this period.

The singularly happy relations which existed between William and Matilda, their mutual love, devotion, and confidence, are of course famous. Once only during their long union were these happy relations seriously disturbed.[34] For Matilda’s heart was touched by the distresses of her son, and she did not sympathize with the stern justice of the Conqueror in this domestic matter. Secretly she undertook to provide Robert out of her own revenues with funds for the maintenance of a military force. But the king soon detected her and interfered, declaring, in his wrath, that he had learned the truth of the adage, “A faithless woman is her husband’s bane.” He had loved her as his own soul and had intrusted her with his treasures and with jurisdiction throughout all his dominions, only to find her giving succor to enemies who were plotting against his life. But undaunted by this outburst, the queen sought to justify herself upon the ground of her great love for her eldest son. Though Robert were dead and buried seven feet under the earth, she declared, she would gladly die, if by so doing she could restore him to life. Respecting the spirit of his proud consort, the king turned to vent his rage upon Samson le Breton, the queen’s messenger, proposing to seize him and have him blinded. But Samson received timely warning and managed to escape to Saint-Évroul; and, at the queen’s request, Abbot Mainer received him into the monastery. There he dwelt in security and led an exemplary life for twenty-six years, no doubt well known to the chronicler of the house who records his tale.[35]

Whatever be the truth about Robert’s wanderings and the vicissitudes of his exile, in the end he returned to France and, as already noted, gained the support of King Philip, and was established with his followers in the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis. There a military force of considerable proportions began to gather around him in response to his lavish promises. Adventurers came from France; but in greater numbers came the malcontents from Normandy. Many who hitherto had kept the peace and had remained loyal to the king now deserted the royal cause and went over to swell the ranks of the rebels.[36] King William was now obliged to turn his attention to this hornet’s nest that was spreading terror among the peaceful and defenceless population on his northeastern frontier. Quartering troops in his strongholds opposite Gerberoy, he endeavored to forestall the destructive raids which the insurgents were making into his territory.[37] But, vexed that his enemies should seem to dwell in security at a point so little removed from the borders of Normandy, he determined to carry the war beyond the frontier; and, though it was the inclement season, he assembled his forces and laid siege to Gerberoy itself for some three weeks soon after Christmas (1078-79).[38]

The operations which followed were enlivened in the fashion of the day by the frequent interchange of challenges and by numerous encounters between selected bodies of knights from each side,[39] until finally the besieged garrison brought the contest to an issue by a successful sortie and a pitched battle in the open before the castle.[40] In the general mÊlÉe which ensued the Conqueror and Robert met in single combat, and the elderly king proved no match for his vigorous and skilful antagonist. He was wounded in the hand or arm, and his horse was shot from under him.[41] According to one, and perhaps the better, account, Tokig son of Wigod, a faithful Englishman, hurried to the king with another mount, only to be himself slain a moment later by a shaft from a crossbow.[42] According to another account, however, at the supreme moment of his antagonist’s distress, Robert recognized his father’s voice—armor had hitherto disguised the king—and, leaping down from his own horse, he directed him to mount and allowed him to ride away.[43] Many of the king’s men were slain, others were captured, and many more were wounded, among them being Robert’s younger brother, William Rufus.[44] The discomfiture of the royal forces was complete, and they fled from the field.[45]

This unexpected defeat before the walls of Gerberoy was a deep humiliation to the Conqueror. William of Malmesbury speaks of it as the one outstanding misfortune of his long and brilliant career.[46] In the bitterness of his shame and of his indignation against the son who had not only rebelled against him, but had actually met him on the field of battle and wounded and unhorsed him, William is said to have laid on Robert a terrible curse, vowing to disinherit him forever.[47] Though the curse was soon lifted and grudging forgiveness granted, one might easily believe from the misfortunes of Robert’s later years that the baneful influence of this paternal malediction followed him to his grave more than half a century later beneath the pavement stones of Gloucester abbey.

The part played by the king of France in the border war around Gerberoy is puzzling. The narrative sources state specifically that King Philip had given his support to Robert and the Norman rebels and had deliberately established them at Gerberoy in order that they might harry the Norman border. Yet we have a charter of unquestioned validity by King Philip in favor of the church of Saint-Quentin of Beauvais, which bears the signatures of both William and Philip and a dating clause which reveals the fact that it was drawn up at the siege which the two kings were conducting about Gerberoy in 1079.[48] The evidence is conclusive, therefore, that, though the French king had previously supported Robert and had actually established him at Gerberoy, he nevertheless joined with the Conqueror early in 1079 in besieging the Norman rebels in his own stronghold.[49] How King William had wrought this change of mind in his jealous overlord we have no means of knowing. But it is evident that, while meeting his son’s rebellion by force of arms, he had not been forgetful of his mastery of the diplomatic art.

The presence of so great an ally, however, could not disguise the fact of the Conqueror’s defeat; and before the struggle was allowed to go to further extremes, influences were brought to bear upon the king which led to a reconciliation. After his humiliating discomfiture William had retired to Rouen.[50] Robert is said to have gone to Flanders,[51] though this seems hardly likely in view of his decisive victory over the royal forces. In any case, intermediaries now began to pass back and forth between them. Robert was very willing to make peace and be reconciled with his father. The barons, too, had little mind for a continuation of this kind of warfare. Robert’s rebellion had divided many a family, and it was irksome to the nobles to have to fight against “sons, brothers, and kinsmen.” Accordingly, Roger of Montgomery, Hugh of Gournay, Hugh of Grandmesnil, and Roger of Beaumont and his sons Robert and Henry went to the king and besought him to be reconciled with his son. They explained that Robert had been led astray by the evil counsels of depraved youth—were the ‘depraved youth’ in question the ‘sons and brothers’ of our respectable negotiators?—that he now repented of his errors and acknowledged his fault and humbly implored the royal clemency. The king at first remained obdurate and complained bitterly against his son. His conduct, he declared, had been infamous. He had stirred up civil war and led away the very flower of the young nobility. He had also brought in the foreign enemy; and, had it been in his power, he would have armed the whole human race against his father! The barons, however, persisted in their efforts. Conferences were renewed. Bishops and other men of religion, among them St. Simon of CrÉpy,[52] an old friend and companion of the Conqueror, intervened to soften the king’s heart. The queen, too, and ambassadors from the king of France, and neighboring nobles who had entered the Conqueror’s service all added their solicitations. And “at last the stern prince, giving way to the entreaties of so many persons of rank, and moved also by natural affection, was reconciled with his son and those who had been leagued with him.” With the consent of the assembled barons he renewed to Robert the grant of the succession to Normandy after his death, upon the same conditions as he had granted it on a former occasion at Bonneville.[53]

It is not clear over how long a period the foregoing negotiations had been drawn out, though it is not improbable that they were continued into the spring of 1080;[54] for on 8 May of that year Gregory VII wrote Robert a letter of fatherly counsel in which he referred to the reconciliation as good news which had but recently reached him. The Pope rejoiced that Robert had acquiesced in his father’s wishes and put away the society of base companions; while at the same time he solemnly warned him against a return to his evil courses in the future.[55]

Whether or not the Pope’s admonition had anything to do with it, Robert seems, for a time at least, to have made an earnest effort to acquiesce in his father’s wishes. The reconciliation was, so far as can be seen, complete and cordial. Again Robert’s name begins to appear frequently in the charters of the period, indicating a full and friendly coÖperation with his parents and his brothers.[56] The king, too, seems so far to have had a change of heart as to be willing for the first time in his life to intrust his son with important enterprises.

In the late summer of 1079, King Malcolm of Scotland had taken advantage of the Conqueror’s preoccupation with his continental dominions to harry Northumberland as far south as the Tyne,[57] and King William had been obliged for the moment to forego his vengeance. But in the late summer or autumn of 1080 he crossed over to England with Robert,[58] and prepared to square accounts with his Scottish adversary. Assembling a large force, which included Abbot Adelelm of Abingdon and a considerable number of the great barons of England, he placed Robert in command and sent him northward against the Scottish raider.[59] Advancing into Lothian,[60] Robert met Malcolm at Eccles,[61] but found him in no mood for fighting. Ready enough for raids and plundering when the English armies were at a safe distance, the Scottish king had no desire for the test of a decisive engagement. Unless the language of the Abingdon chronicle is misleading, he again recognized the English suzerainty over his kingdom and gave hostages for his good faith.[62] Thus enjoying an easy triumph, Robert turned back southward. Laying the foundations of ‘New Castle’ upon the Tyne[63] as he passed, he came again to his father and was duly rewarded for his achievement.[64]

Charters indicate that Robert remained in England throughout the following winter and spring;[65] but before the end of 1081 important events had taken place on the borders of Maine which called both the king and his son back in haste to the Continent.

Norman rule was always unpopular in Maine, and it created grave problems. As has already been explained, it had been temporarily overthrown during the critical years which followed the Norman conquest of England, and it had been reËstablished only by force of arms in 1073.[66] But the restoration of Norman domination in Maine was a serious check to the ambition of Fulk le RÉchin, count of Anjou, who seized every opportunity to cause embarrassment to his Norman rival. Thus, in the autumn of 1076,[67] he assisted the beleaguered garrison at Dol and was at least in part responsible for the Conqueror’s discomfiture.[68] So, too, he made repeated attacks upon John of La FlÈche, one of the most powerful supporters of the Norman interest in Maine.[69] Though the chronology and the details of these events are exceedingly obscure, there is reason to believe that Fulk’s movements were in some way connected with the rebellion of Robert Curthose.[70] And while it is impossible to be dogmatic, it is perhaps not a very hazardous conjecture that upon the outbreak of Robert’s rebellion, late in 1077, or in 1078, Fulk seized the opportunity of the king’s embarrassment and preoccupation on the eastern Norman frontier to launch an expedition against his hated enemy, John of La FlÈche.[71] But Fulk’s hopes were sadly disappointed; for John of La FlÈche learned of the impending stroke in time to obtain reËnforcements from Normandy,[72] and Fulk was obliged to retire, severely wounded, from the siege.[73] It was probably after these events that a truce was concluded between King William and Count Fulk at an unidentified place called “castellum Vallium,”[74] a truce which appears to have relieved the Conqueror from further difficulties in Maine until after his reconciliation with Robert Curthose. In 1081, however, taking advantage of the absence of the king and Robert in England, Fulk returned to the attack upon Maine; and this time his efforts seem to have met with more success. Again laying siege to La FlÈche, he took it and burned it.[75]

It was apparently this reverse sustained by the Norman supporters in Maine which caused the king and Robert to hasten back from England in 1081. Levying a great army—sixty thousand, according to Ordericus![76]—they hastened towards La FlÈche to meet the victorious Angevins. But when the hostile armies were drawn up facing each other and the battle was about to begin,[77] an unnamed cardinal priest[78] and certain monks interposed their friendly offices in the interest of peace. William of Évreux and Roger of Montgomery ably seconded their efforts, and after much negotiation terms were finally agreed upon in the treaty of La BruÈre or Blanchelande (1081). Fulk abandoned his pretensions to direct rule in Maine and recognized the rights of Robert Curthose. Robert, on the other hand, recognized the Angevin overlordship of Maine and formally did homage to Fulk for the fief. Further, a general amnesty was extended to the baronage on both sides. John of La FlÈche and other Angevin nobles who had been fighting in the Norman interest were reconciled with Fulk, and the Manceaux who had supported the Angevin cause were received back into the good graces of the king.[79] Finally, there probably was an interchange of hostages as an assurance of good faith. The so-called Annals of Renaud, at any rate, assert that the king’s half-brother and nephew, Robert of Mortain and his son, and many others were given as hostages to Fulk.[80]

With the conclusion of peace in 1081 the relations between the Conqueror and the count of Anjou with regard to Maine entered upon a happier era,[81] though difficulties between them were by no means at an end. The death of Arnold, bishop of Le Mans, for example, on 29 November 1081, gave rise to a long dispute as to the right of patronage over the see. Fulk strongly opposed HoËl, the Norman candidate, and it was not until 21 April 1085 that HoËl was finally consecrated by Archbishop William at Rouen and the Norman rights over the see of Le Mans definitely vindicated.[82] During this same period King William had also to contend with a very troublesome local insurrection among the Manceaux. Under the leadership of Hubert, vicomte of Maine, the rebels installed themselves in the impregnable fortress of Sainte-Suzanne and maintained themselves there for several years against all the king’s efforts to dislodge them. At last, in 1085, or early in 1086, he practically acknowledged his defeat, and received Hubert, the leader of the rebels, back into his favor.[83]

If Robert Curthose played any active part in the dispute with Count Fulk as to the right of patronage over the see of Le Mans, or in the siege of Sainte-Suzanne, or, indeed, if he had any actual share in the government of Maine during this period, the record of it has not been preserved. Whatever intention the king may have had of taking his son into a closer coÖperation in the management of his affairs was evidently short-lived, and he continued to keep the exercise of all authority directly in his own hands.

Such a policy, however, was fatal to the good understanding that had been established after the siege of Gerberoy, and inevitably led to further difficulties. Indeed, it is altogether possible that Robert was again in exile before the end of 1083. After the peace of La BruÈre he can be traced in a number of charters of 1082 and 1083. On 24 June 1082, he was at Oissel in Normandy.[84] Once in the same year he was at Downton in England.[85] He was certainly back in Normandy in association with the king and queen and William Rufus as late as 18 July 1083.[86] And then he disappears from view until after the Conqueror’s death in 1087. Evidently another bitter quarrel had intervened and been followed by a second banishment.

It seems impossible from the confused narrative of Ordericus Vitalis and the meagre notices of other chroniclers to disentangle the details of this new controversy. It is clear that the points at issue had not changed materially since the earlier difficulties.[87] Robert, long since formally recognized as the Conqueror’s heir and successor designate, to whom the baronage had repeatedly done homage, could not remain content with the wholly subordinate position and with the limitations which the king imposed upon him. His youth, prospects, and affable manners, his generosity and unrestrained social propensities won him a numerous following among the younger nobility; and these ambitious companions in turn spurred him on to make importunate demands upon his father for larger powers and enjoyments. The king, on the other hand, could not bring himself to make the desired concessions. It was no part of the Conqueror’s nature to share his powers or prerogatives with anyone. Doubtless there was blame on both sides. Even Ordericus Vitalis hardly justifies the king. Robert, he says, refused to be obedient, and the king covered him with reproaches publicly.[88] And so the old controversy was renewed, and Robert again withdrew from Normandy. Knight errant that he was, he set out to seek his fortune in foreign parts—like Polynices the Theban in search of his Adrastus![89]

As to the period of these wanderings, we have no indication beyond the negative evidence of the charters, in which Robert does not appear after 1083. It may, perhaps, be conjectured that the death of the queen (2 November 1083), who had befriended him during his earlier difficulties with his father, had removed the support which made possible his continued residence at the court.[90]

Robert’s second exile was evidently longer than the first,[91] and less filled with active warfare on the frontiers of Normandy. It seems natural, therefore, to suppose that the distant wanderings and vicissitudes of which we hear, ‘in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and Gascony,’[92] should be assigned to this period. Of more value, perhaps, than the vague indications of Ordericus Vitalis, and certainly of greater interest, if true, is the statement of William of Malmesbury that Robert made his way to Italy and sought the hand of the greatest heiress of the age, the famous Countess Matilda of Tuscany, desiring thus to gain support against his father. In this ambitious project, however, the courtly exile was doomed to disappointment, for Matilda rejected his proposal.[93]

Failing of his quest in Italy, Robert seems to have returned to France, and to the satisfaction of his desires among baser associates. Long banishment and vagabondage had brought on deterioration of character and led him into habits of loose living[94] from which the Conqueror was notably free. At some time during his long exile, he became the father of several illegitimate children. Ordericus Vitalis puts the story as baldly as possible, asserting that he became enamored of the handsome concubine of an aged priest somewhere on the borders of France and had two sons by her.[95] Both were destined to a tragic death before their father. One of them, Richard, fell a victim to the evil spell which lay upon the New Forest, being accidentally slain by an arrow while hunting there in the year 1100.[96] The other, William, after his father’s final defeat at Tinchebray in 1106, went to Jerusalem and died fighting in the holy wars.[97] Robert also had an illegitimate daughter, who lived to become the wife of Helias of Saint-SaËns, most sturdy and loyal of all the supporters of Robert Curthose in the victorious days of Henry I.[98]

Whatever the field of Robert’s obscure wanderings and whatever the vicissitudes through which he passed, he returned eventually to France, where he enjoyed the friendship and support of King Philip.[99] The king of France had momentarily fought upon the side of the Conqueror at Gerberoy in 1079; but such an alliance was unnatural and could not last. Hostility between the two kings was inevitable; and almost the last act of the Conqueror’s life was a revival of the ancient feud and an attempt to take vengeance upon the hated overlord who had given asylum and succor to his rebellious son.[100]

The struggle this time raged over the debatable ground of the Vexin. In the late summer of 1087 King William assembled his forces and appeared suddenly before the gates of Mantes. The inhabitants and the garrison, scattered about the countryside, were taken completely by surprise; and as they fled in wild confusion back within the walls, the king and his men rushed in after them, plundered the town, and burned it to the ground.[101]

But from that day of vengeance and destruction the Conqueror returned to Rouen a dying man. There, lingering for some weeks at the priory of Saint-Gervais outside the city, he made his final earthly dispositions. Robert, his undutiful son, was still in France and at war against him.[102] Whether from conviction of his incompetence or from resentment at his treason, the king had arrived at the unalterable decision that Robert, his firstborn, should not succeed him in England. For that honor he recommended William Rufus, his second son. Indeed, the dying king, it seems, would gladly have disinherited his eldest son altogether.[103] But there were grave difficulties in the way of such a course. Robert had been formally and repeatedly designated as his heir and successor.[104] In the last awful moments of his earthly existence the Conqueror recognized that he did not hold the English kingdom by hereditary right; he had received it through the favor of God and victorious battle with Harold.[105] Robert, his heir, therefore—so he is said to have reasoned—had no claim upon England. But Normandy he had definitely conceded to him; and Robert had received the homage of the baronage. The grant thus made and ratified he could not annul.[106] Moreover, there were men of weight and influence present at the royal bedside to plead the exile’s cause. Fearing lest their lord should die with wrath in his heart against the son who had injured him so deeply, the assembled prelates and barons, Archbishop William being their spokesman, endeavored to turn the king’s heart into the way of forgiveness. At first he was bitter and seemed to be recounting to himself the manifold injuries that Robert had done him; he had sinned against him grievously and brought down his gray hairs to the grave. But finally, yielding to persuasion and making the supreme effort of self-conquest, the king called on God and the assembled magnates to witness that he forgave Robert all his offences and renewed to him the grant of Normandy[107] and Maine.[108] A messenger was despatched to France to bear to Robert the tidings of paternal forgiveness and of his succession to the duchy.[109] And with these and other final dispositions, William the Conqueror ended his career upon earth (9 September 1087). His undutiful and rebellious son was not present at the royal bedside at the end,[110] nor later at the burial in the church of St. Stephen at Caen.[111]