489 – From Normandy With Love

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for about the price of a latte per month. And thank you very much to Tim, Stacy, and Ben for signing up already. Okay, let's face it. Last year was a lot. rampant corruption, threats of war, tyrannical leaders, actual war, A greedy, feckless aristocracy, rulers weaponizing the legal system, rulers completely disregarding the legal system, rulers making grandiose promises they had no interest in actually delivering on.

international intrigue, at least one incredibly suspicious death, and finally rumors about that death, which continue to haunt the halls of power. So much. It's a new year. And with a new year, there's always hope that we've turned a corner and maybe that last year was as bad as it's gonna get. And now things will finally improve and Unfirth will be able to afford some eggs.

And one thing we know that Unfirth had going for him was that he was living about 900 years before the invention of the 24-hour news cycle. which means that Unfirth was probably blissfully unaware of a lot of this stuff. Which sounds Relaxing. But while Unfirth didn't know all the ins and outs of the absolute insane year of eleven hundred, King Henry did, because he was directly involved in much of it.

And for Henry, the dawn of 1101 was a mixed bag. He had the crown, yeah, but the old regime wasn't dead. Not really.

Rufus had been king, sure, but the main operator behind much of his reign was a low-born man by the name of Ranulfard. He was the king's chief counselor, and also his financial fixer, his political advisor, and his general purpose, make it happen, guy. Every corrupt regime has a nexus point, and Flambard was Rufus'. And he did such a good job at it, that even though he didn't have a very pious reputation, at least as far as Orderic was concerned, he was promoted to bishop.

So that way he would be able to control the very wealthy bishopric of Durham, which again has corruption written all over it. But even though this guy was widely despised, no one could do anything about it because Flambard was the king's guy. But when Rufus died, Flambard's protection died with him. And Henry moved fast, charging Flambard with being, quote, an inveterate robber of his country, end quote.

Basically, of being an embezzler. And that does go a long way towards explaining why this lowborn guy who Orderic describes as very illiterate ended up becoming enormously rich. Under his purview, project funds just had a habit of getting lost. only to make their way into Flambard's pockets later on. And so the new King Henry had the thieving bishop imprisoned at one of the construction projects he was supposed to oversee.

The Tower of London. Because while Rufus had a feel for political theatre, Henry had a feel for political irony.

But, while this choice of location was deliciously poetic, it did have one small flaw. The Tower of London wasn't built to be a prison. This thing was built to keep people out, not in. It was designed to be a palace and a fortress. Which actually might be part of the reason why Henry chose the location in the first place. I mean Flambard still had allies, and he was technically a bishop.

So while Henry needed him out of the way, he couldn't be excessively cruel about it without making a few more enemies than he already had. And so, even though Flambard was reportedly in fetters, he also, quote, made merry in prison, end quote. Because actually, he had plenty of cash on hand. Fully two shillings a day were provided to him by the king.

And so while others languished in hellish environments, Flambard kept a sumptuous dining table where he feasted and drank, and his guards happily feasted and drank right along with him. which I think we can all agree is not ideal prison management. But the fact was, while Flambard was disgraced, he still had friends. And we aren't told whether the constable of the tower, William de Mandeville, was among them, but if he wasn't, then he was catastrophically incompetent.

And King Henry was paying for the privilege. Setting aside the fact that what remained of the old regime was drunk, well fed, and apparently a very popular resident at the tower, Henry was honestly doing pretty well in the dawn of 1101. He had England, and a quick look at the witness lists and the various documents reveals that in his first few months on the throne, Henry had managed to gain the support of most of the magnates in England.

He'd also managed to outmaneuver Archbishop Anselm, which was no small matter. And he'd recently appointed a new Archbishop of York. This guy's name was Girard. And actually, it's quite possible that Girard had been part of that hunting party in the New Forest. Why do I say that? Well He was King Rufus' Chancellor.

which would have placed him of high enough rank to have been plausibly invited, And we do know he was in the area because once the whole business of the hunt was concluded, Gerard witnessed King Henry's very first charter. And then, a few months later, Gerard was promoted to the Archbishopric of York, which, if it was a thank you, that's quite the thank you.

Now, granted, Anselm was the one who wrote to the Pope and asked for Gerard to be given his pallium, which might make you think that Henry had nothing to do with And that Gerard's links to Henry were just a coincidence, and this was just boring old church politics. And maybe it was. However, These moves also happened at pretty much the exact same time that Anselm was outmaneuvered, and he was desperately trying to stay on Henry's good side, thanks to the investiture controversy.

Not to mention the fact that Anselm also probably just realized exactly how dangerous Henry was. So, maybe Henry was involved in the elevation of his ally, either explicitly or implicitly. It's hard to know for sure. But regardless, having Gerard in the Archbishopric of York was probably one of the many things that pleased Henry as he greeted the new year. Hell, even looking over his courtly guest list would have given the king cause to smile.

In addition to reigning over his court with his new queen, whose background provided him with links to both the Scottish royal dynasty and the deposed English royal dynasty, there were also French and Norman nobles in attendance. And not just any noble. Robert of Bouleme, Roger the Poitavon, and Count William of Mortain had all come to court. And that's a big deal, because these guys were all supposed to be Duke Robert of Normandy's allies.

Historian Judith Green also notes that the Count of Moulin and even Prince Louis of France were in attendance at Henry's Christmas court. So at the dawn of 1101, Henry, who had been a landless bandit lord only a few years earlier, was ruling as a proper king. or, you know, at least as proper as Rufus had been.

But while Henry was many things, he wasn't stupid. And so, despite the fact that he'd catapulted himself to the very top echelons of power, and at the moment he was looking rather powerful, He knew that this was precisely the moment where he was also at his most vulnerable. And right on queue, in the early weeks of eleven oh one, things began to change. All of a sudden, the Anglo Norman nobility began to get cold feet.

Swearing fealty to Henry during his incredibly rushed seizure of the throne seemed like such a good idea last year. But now that they've had a bit of time to think about it. Oof. And as the weeks went on, King Henry didn't seem like such a great idea after all. And that wasn't just some fringe perspective. It was widespread.

So widespread that rather than telling us who abandoned Henry, Malmesbury instead decided to list the nobles who remained loyal to him. So get comfy, because we're gonna go through this list. Ready? Quote Robert Fitzhaman and Richard de Redvers and Roger Bigot, and Robert Earl of Milant with his brother, Henry. End quote. Yep. That's it. That's Momsbury's entire list of loyalists. So what happened?

Well, Malmsbury tells us that many of the nobles didn't bother explaining why they were withdrawing their support. They just did it and let Henry figure it out. But we and Henry could make some pretty good guesses. First of all, Henry forced a kind of royal impulse by upon the nobility by literally threatening violence. And in the face of that, and in the absence of Robert, the nobles apparently forgot that many of them had already made oaths of fealty to Robert.

and then further oaths to uphold that succession deal that was struck between Robert and Rufus. And instead, under the threats levied against them by Henry and his boys, they buckled. But that was months ago. And now the whole, oh God, this guy and his bros might stab us all, had worn off, and people were probably remembering their prior oaths. And we're also remembering that Henry's claim to the throne was not on firm ground.

His best argument for succession lay in the notion that he was born in the purple, which was a succession principle from Byzantium, and England wasn't, and had never been Byzantium.

Even worse, that argument would have reminded anyone in the know of who had actually been to Byzantium. Robert, the Duke of Normandy, because he was a victorious crusader, having, in the medieval Christian mind, taken back Jerusalem in the name of Christ. Meanwhile, Henry had never even been to Byzantium because Henry failed to take the cross and stayed home instead. Not great, because the crusade was on everyone's minds right now. And for good reason. That entire campaign was nuts.

And it really shouldn't have worked. I mean, seriously, we go into excruciating expletive fill detail on the members feed, and not only should it have failed to take the city, by rights, everyone involved should be dead. I mean, even the Crusaders, well, the ones who survived, came out of that thing, being all, how the f did we pull that off? Now, we know there are a lot of political, cultural, and even, it seems, climate elements that were in play that helped them out a lot.

But they didn't know that. As far as Christian Europe was concerned, this was divine intervention, which meant Robert Kurthose, being one of the leaders of the crusade, now had a divine aura about it. And pretty much everyone in Normandy was impressed. And we can be sure of that, because when he returned to Normandy, Robert recovered his duchy without any opposition.

In Normandy. I mean, even the Conqueror had a hard time keeping that nest of vipers in line, but here is short pants, pulling it off rather easily. That's wild. And it was also terrible news for Henry, because one of the big arguments he made for his reign was that Robert was weak. and that the magnates would be much safer with a strong leader like him. You know, the guy who stayed home while Robert seized friggin' Jerusalem.

And who was now worried about another Norman invasion because Robert had just managed to bring pretty much the entire rebellious duchy under his banner. Now, to be fair here, the Norman nobles were still Norman nobles. So godliness wasn't the only thing that was on their mind.

In fact, for some of them, it might not have been on their minds at all. But Duke Robert had planned for that. For example, Robert of Belem's support was critical, and Belem wasn't exactly into God. If anything, he was pulling for the other guy. After all, scholars argue that Belem was literally one of the inspirations for Robert the Devil. And so Orderic writes that Duke Robert, foreseeing this risk, decided to give Belem what he really craved.

Fabulous cash and prizes. In this case, a bishopric, a castle, and a fortress. And Orderic reports the Duke gave cash and lands to some other reluctant but necessary lords as well, and promised them that if they helped him become king, they would be rewarded with more from England. Now, Ordrich was scandalized by this, calling Robert an imbecile and saying that he was a weak duke who failed to guard his dominions and instead imprudently gambled them on a stupid ploy for a crown.

Which honestly is hilarious because this was pretty much standard operating procedure for European rulers during this period. I mean, how many times have we seen bribery, uh, sorry, gifts being granted in order to obtain support? Rufus did it, the Conqueror did it, the English kings did it, the French kings did it, the Scandinavian kings did it. This was how business was handled.

But Orderic hated Robert, and so his bribery was a sign of weakness. And as for Robert's desire for the English crown, Well, according to Orderic, none of this scheming had anything to do with rights of inheritance, lines of succession, birth order, or even that tontine with Rufus. No, this was all happening because Duke Robert had blown all his cash on hookers.

You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Order claims that Robert was penniless now, all because despite being a newlywed, he was spending all of his money on Harlan. And in fact, he didn't even go to mass and instead stayed in bed until noon. Why? Well he had no other choice, because after the nights of debauchery, the prostitutes would rob him of all of his clothes.

And so, according to Orderic, that's why he wanted to invade England, because, quote, those who waste their wealth at home must emigrate, end quote. Which, honestly, sounds like something you'd hear a government official say today. Now, I find it highly unlikely that Robert had his clothes robbed by, to use Orderic's term, loose women the night before every single match.

I mean, even the most gullible person would eventually learn to keep an eye on his undies, or at least hide a spare set somewhere in the room. Furthermore, I'm not sure how Robert could be a naked, penniless oaf, but also influential enough to bring most of the Norman nobility to heel and wealthy enough to bribe the remainder of them into submission.

Finally, the womanizing thing seems a bit odd because while we do know that Robert had three illegitimate children, that's practically a rounding error compared to the number of bastards Henry had cranked out in his time. But Orderic was mostly fine with Henry, and he hated Robert. And if we've learned anything about Orderic, it's that he was a bit like that cracker mate.

I mean, think about it. Would we really be all that surprised if at some point he wrote, look at Kurt Hose eating those crackers like he owns the place? Probably not. So naturally, to Orderic, Robert was an imbecile for using bribery to keep his nobles in line. And the only reason he wanted a crown was because he was a naked, debauched idiot who didn't have a penny to his name.

But I think Robert knew he had a stronger claim to England, and that he wanted the wealth and power that the crown provided. He was probably also livid that his brother stole said crown while he was on crusade. And more importantly, in 1101, Robert wasn't just a victorious crusader with an aura of the divine. He was also a man with a veteran army ready to go. And he was a man who had learned the lessons of his previous interfamily wars and had adopted some of the tactics of his siblings.

So, as he was preparing for his next campaign, he was doing what his family always did in these situations. He was bribing nobles. And probably not just the Norman one. Because if you remember, Robert of Baleme and several other Normans had traveled to Henry's court in the final days of 1100. And I suspect they were probably far less interested in offering fealty, and far more interested in reminding the Anglo Norman nobility that Duke Robert had God on his side.

and that he was the rightful heir to England, not Henry. And if that doesn't do it for you, he also had deep pockets, and he's willing to reward those who decided to be on the right side of history. Oh, and speaking of deep pockets. One of the most wealthy and militarily powerful men in England was Earl Hugh Lupus. And these days, he was not looking so good. We're not sure what he had. We're just told it was a long debilitating illness. So maybe it was lupus.

Either way, Earl Hugh Lupus was clearly dying, and Henry's access to a huge reservoir of military power and wealth very well might be dying right along with him. And that alone could have inspired a flight of support. So there are plenty of reasons for why this might have been happening. But while many of these Anglo-Norman lords stayed silent on their reasons.

Possibly because explaining it to Henry would have involved writing him a letter, which was a non-starter for most Normans, or it would have meant talking to Henry in person and explaining things. Which very well could lead to a free tour of the Tower of London. But not all of them stayed silent. Some of the lords looked at this political crisis. And they did what so many aristocrats often do. They tried to wield the crisis to enrich themselves.

Yep. With the kingdom in a legitimacy crisis and teetering on the brink of war, those with wealth and power decided this was an excellent opportunity to inflate their portfolio. And here's the thing, while it was terrible on moral and governance grounds, on sheer practicality, this wasn't all that crazy of an idea. England, under the last three and a half decades of Norman kings, had been insanely corrupt.

And it wasn't like it was a beacon of honesty and duty during the long reign of Edward the Confessor either. So those unnamed Anglo Norman lords were reading the culture correctly. This was an opportunity to squeeze the king for cash. However, they failed to read the king correctly. If you wanted something out of Henry, don't demand it of him in advance, the way you might have with Ruth.

Your best chance with King Henry is to provide him with service, and then hope he gives you a gift later on as a thank you. And so Mommesbury's unnamed nobles made their demands, and naturally Henry refused. So in a huff, they let him know exactly why they were backing out of their own.

But Henry's problems were only beginning. Subversive comments and cruel nicknames had been something of an art form in the House of Normandy for generations by now, and recently it had become a medium that was bestowed upon the Kingdom of England. And, you know, I get it. It's honestly hard to imagine how you could get through the reign of Rufus without quietly talking shit about it at every opportunity.

But what this meant was that now there were a lot of people in this kingdom who had rather sharp tongues. And Henry's marriage to Edith, who was now renamed to Matilda, presented them with an excellent opportunity. Because if you could rename someone once, then why not just keep renaming them? And so people started referring to Matilda as Godiva and Henry as Godric. And this was absolutely devastating shade.

At least, it was in the early 12th century. I'm guessing here in the 21st, you're probably wondering what the hell they were on about, and you're either thinking about naked horseback rides or chocolate. Well, actually, Godric and Godiva are names with very specific meaning. Godric means God's ruler, and Godiva means God's gift. And according to Robert and his supporters, these two had just stolen the kingdom from a victorious crusader with a clear claim to the throne.

while Henry's main claim was being Robert's baby brother, who had inherited basically nothing, had schemed his way into power, had then lost it all due to said scheming, had somehow clawed his way back into power, and then, when Robert was away on crusade, stole England. The only other thing Henry was famous for was his incredible lust and his complete lack of interest in safe sex.

So yeah, when they started calling him God's ruler and his wife God's gift, that wasn't a compliment. And naturally, those sarcastic taunts, Momsbury's words there, made their way to court. And when Henry heard them, he handled it the way that only an experienced troll would. He knew that any outburst would just add fuel to the fire. Any response, no matter how small, would be greeted as victory by those who were opposed to him.

Because they wanted him to be mad. They wanted him to lash out. They wanted a reaction. And so Malmesbury reports that Henry swallowed his anger and grinned. casually dismissing the attacks as the deranged rantings of fools. And he just moved on. Or, at least, he appeared to move on. Internally, he hadn't moved on at all. And once this crisis was over, in a time of his choosing, he would have his vengeance. But man, this was just a terrible start to the year for Henry.

Meanwhile, in the Tower of London, Ranolph Lombard was living it up with anyone who cared to join him. Because while he probably couldn't spell charm offensive, he knew exactly how to unleash one. You see, Ranolph was like Rufus in one very important way. While he was capable of absolutely merciless cruelty, and he had a ruthless streak a mile wide, he was also apparently a lot of fun at a party.

We're told that he was quite capable of setting aside his cruelty and could instead adopt a mask of generosity and good humor. And so the tower had been bumping like a club for months now. And as such, he quickly became a favorite of the people who had actually been charged of keeping him in prison. Now, we don't know who was in on it. We don't know who we recruited, nor who remained oblivious.

But Flambard was sharp. Even Orderick concedes, this guy was really clever. And necessity can make a mind even sharper. And on top of that, you don't rise in power as quickly as he did without understanding people. And so over all of those dinners and all of those stories and those jokes and those barrels and barrels of wine. Eventually, Flambard figured out who was vulnerable. Who could be turned? Or maybe just who was naive enough to smuggle something in for him?

Because it was nothing really. Just a barrel of Falernian wine. I mean, what could he do with that? He just wanted to have a nice dinner. Now, Falernian wine was incredibly expensive, not to mention very strong, so this was quite the luxury. And naturally, he would be happy to share the wine with his guards for all their trouble.

I'm guessing Flambard also probably asked that this wine be acquired from a particular location, or maybe a particular person, giving the excuse that, you know, given his refined palate, it did need to be a specific vintage. Or maybe had a guy who was in on it and he just told him, Go get the barrel from Jimmy the nose and don't let anyone see ya. Or had one of his outside friends hand the barrel off to one of their contacts on the inside.

Honestly, it's impossible to know exactly how this barrel got in without knowing how in on it the guards were. But eventually, the big day came. The much sought after barrel of Falernian wine was in his chamber. And as such, this was an event that required a celebration. Obviously. So a lavish feast was prepared. And the guards, of course, were invited. Besides, after all these months together, weren't they even guards?

I mean, they're more like friends by now, right? Let's not stand on ceremony. Let's just all toast to our common bonds and the good fortune that brought us all here together. And so they ate. And they shared stories. Every But Blimbard and his allies weren't stupid. They knew King Henry was clever and more importantly, ruthless. So they couldn't leave this king with any points of leverage to wield against them.

leverage, such as Flambard's mother, who was still living in England, that would have to be remedied immediately, but also in a manner that wouldn't raise alarm. So, while the revelry in the tower began. Flambard's mother was secreted away towards a harbor, where she boarded a ship bound for Normandy. And naturally, this ship was also loaded down with a bunch of the bishop's treasure. Because, you know, waste not, want not. Meanwhile, back at the tower, the guards were feeling quite jolly.

And actually, this Balernian wine was far stronger than what they were probably used to, so Jolly doesn't cut it. These guys were hammered. But the wine was plentiful, and their host was generous, and their cups were doing that thing where they'd magically refill themselves any moment the guards weren't looking. And I'm not sure how much wine they drank, but I'm guessing that it was enough that as they got further towards the bottom of the barrel, they didn't. was acquiring a distinct Note.

They just kept drinking. Though, of course, nothing lasts forever. All that wine was catching up. And so, one by one, the guards retired, either returning to their barracks to try and sleep this off. Or just passing out right there, face down on the dining table.

Finally. Flambard dropped the act, reached into the barrel, and retrieved the rope that had been hidden at the bottom. He tied one end of it to the mullion at the center of one of his windows and threw the rest of the rope over the side of the tower. Then he grabbed the rope with both hands and eased himself over the edge of the windowsill, preparing to make his descent.

Have you ever climbed a rope before? Like, really climbed a rope? Not with a ballet or anything, just you and a rope. Like that torturous thing they sometimes do in gym class. It's hard. And that is with a dry rope that's built for climbing, not whatever sized rope they could fit into a barrel of wine, which was then soaked in said wine. Also, while Flambard was apparently quite charming, and clearly he was very clever when it came to finances and schemes, he wasn't someone who worked out.

Orderick tells us that actually, the former chief counselor was rather large. And not in the arm. Basically, that wine wasn't the only barrel in the room. On top of all of that, Flambard was in a rush. Who knows how long the guards would remain asleep? And the excitement of the whole thing probably made him rather nervy. And God knows how much wine he had to drink to get them all going in the first place.

The point I'm getting at here is that Flambard had some gloves that he planned on using to help him climb down the rope, but he forgot to put them on. Instead, in a hurry, he just grabbed the rope and swung his body over the Moments later he lost his grip and the rope began rushing through his palms. He tried to clamp down, grabbing the rope with all his strength, but inertia is one of the Kruler guys.

And the wine soaked rope tore through his palms and fingers, the friction of it first burning, and then literally tearing the delicate flesh of his hands right down to the bone. But eventually it stopped. Not because he finally secured his grip, nor because he reached the bottom. No, it stopped because he ran out of rope.

Whoever had stuffed the rope into the barrel had severely misjudged the length, and so, with a sudden thwip, the painful burning and tearing came to an end, and the free fall began. A short distance away. Flambard's friends, almost certainly the same ones who provided the wine and the two short robes. were waiting on horseback, with a spare horse for their ally, who Orderic again describes as a quote, portly bishop, end quote.

They probably were watching with much excitement as the rope was thrown over the edge, and they saw their friend ease himself over the windowsill. And then they could only stare in horror as Ranolph's climb turned into more of a zipline, followed by a brief period of waitlessness.

Meanwhile, out at sea, Flambard's mother got to work. What they were attempting here was incredibly risky, and it had a high probability of failure. Careful planning would only get them so far, and unless she was willing to risk her life and the life of her son on mere chance, they were gonna need an ally. A big one. Luckily, she knew just the man.

She'd had a relationship with this guy for years, actually, having spoken with him on regular occasions. Now, granted, some of those discussions had been rather difficult, even dangerous. And in one meeting, she'd even lost an eye in the process. But he was tremendously influential. And, if dealt with carefully, could be an incredible ally. I'm speaking, of course.

Of the devil. Yep. According to Orderic, Lambard's mother was a witch. And kind of like a medieval Christianized Odin, she lost an eye in exchange for that knowledge. Which is a high price to pay, but it would all be worth it if she could bring the Lightbringer in on the scheme. So right there, on board the ship, in the middle of the channel, she began casting spells and reciting, quote, hellish incantations.

Now, while the crew of this ship were more than happy to ferry an old woman and a bunch of treasure to Normandy, no one said anything about summoning the Fing devil. And so naturally, the crew were rather put out about this entire situation and began to rethink the terms of their arrangement. And then their irritation turned into outright alarm and outrage when suddenly they were met by an unexpected and incredibly dangerous visitor.

Meanwhile, back in the tower, the bishop hit the ground with a heavy thud. His friends stared in shock, carefully listening for any sign, either of guards responding or of life from their ally. Eventually, they heard what Orderic describes as piteous groans from the bruised and bleeding bishop. But given the nature of the fall, I'm guessing he had the wind knocked out of him, and it was more of a But either way, that was good news. He was alive.

And so the friends rushed to recover the bishop, helped him onto the spare horse, and rode as fast as they could for the ship that was waiting in harbor, ready to carry them to Normandy. And this ship was also loaded with treasure, by the way. Flambard had a lot of treasure, which was why he was in the tower in the first place. Meanwhile, out at sea, his sorceress mother and the increasingly annoyed sailors were met by No, not the devil. Why were you expecting the devil? No. Pirate!

And they weren't sailing aboard a warship, and the sailors weren't soldiers. They were just seamen who had been conned into transporting one of the strangest senior citizens since Ivo de Talabois's eccentric lady friend at the Battle of Ely. Consequently, they didn't stand a chance. The pirates quickly seized the ship. But there was a bit of good news here. These pirates were either in a forgiving mood, or they didn't like the look of that old lady.

Because just for now, just this once, they decided they would let everyone live. They were still gonna keep the ship, of course, and all the treasure, but they agreed to drop everyone off safely on the coast of Normandy. And as the pirates sailed away with all of their possessions, Including, according to Orderic, even what some of them had been wearing. I'm guessing the sailors then turned to Flambard's mother and were all And that's why you don't f around with the devil.

As for Flambard. His crossing was far less eventful. Probably because instead of trying to summon demons, the bishop was probably just sitting sullenly in a corner, wishing he'd remembered to put on his gloves before he climbed out of that window. and wishing that his friends were better at judging how much rope was needed to cover the climb. And of course, wishing that someone had invented neosporum with lidocaine in 1101.

But eventually his ship reached Normandy, and the fugitive bishop immediately made his way to the court of Duke Robert, because he had a deal to make. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, you can reach me at the British History Podcast at gmail.com. And if you'd like to join The best place to do that is on Reddit. Just look for our British History podcast.