The Siege of Courcy.
The siege of Courcy by Duke Robert (Ord. Vit. 692) is remarkable for some picturesque details, which are interesting in themselves, and throw light on the times, though they do not directly concern the history of William Rufus. I was at Courcy in 1875; but I cannot find any notes on the castle. As far as I remember, it does not stand on any remarkable height, and does not contain among its remains any marked features of the eleventh century. There is however at Courcy a remarkably fine church of the twelfth.
Among the allies who came to the help of the besieged were several French knights, two of whom bore epithets which show that, in the days of the chivalrous King, we are getting near to the times of chivalry. Among the defenders of Courcy were the White Knight and the Red Knight;
“Ad conflictus istorum convenerunt Mathæus comes de Bellomonte et Guillelmus de Garenna, aliique plures, ut in tali gymnasio suas ostentarent probitates. Ibi Tedbaldus Gualeranni de Britolio filius et Guido Rubicundus occisi sunt. Quorum prior, quia cornipes et omnia indumenta ejus candida erant, Candidus Eques appellabatur. Sequens quoque Rubeus, quia rubeis opertus erat, cognominabatur.”
Of these persons, the younger William of Warren, son of the elder William and Gundrada, elder brother of the Reginald whom we have met at Rouen, belongs to our home circle. Count Matthew of the French Beaumont in the modern department of Oise—to be distinguished alike from our Norman and our Cenomannian Beaumont—a kinsman of Hugh of Grantmesnil’s wife (Ord. Vit. 691 D), appears again twice in Orderic, 836 B, 854 B, the second time at the battle of Noyon. Both times he appears in company with his neighbour Burchard of Montmorency. Guy the Red Knight appears in the former passage as an intended father-in-law of the future King Lewis;
“In juventute sua Ludovicus filiam Guidonis Rubei comitis de Rupeforti desponsavit, et hereditario jure competentem comitatum subjugare sibi sategit. Capreosam et Montem Leherici, et Bethilcurtem aliaque oppida obsedit, sed multis nobilibus illi fortiter obstantibus non obtinuit, præsertim quia Lucianam virginem quam desponsaverat Guiscardo de Belloloco donaverat.”
This Rochefort is in the department of Seine and Oise, between Montfort l’Amaury and Montl’hery. The redness of its Count and the whiteness of Theobald land us in quite another state of things from the personal whiteness and redness of Fulk the Red, Wulfward the White, and others. We seem to be in the fourteenth century rather than in the eleventh. But we must remember that at the battle of Noyon, twenty-eight years later, the French knights at least had armorial bearings (Ord. Vit. 855 B, C; see N. C. v. 189). All these things are French to begin with; they spread from France into Normandy, and from Normandy into England.
In this siege we meet with an instance, of which I shall have to speak again (see Note FF), of the wooden tower employed against a fortified place; not a moving tower, it would seem, but one of those of which we have so often heard. Yet it is spoken of as “ingens machina quam berfredum vocitant” (Ord. Vit. 692 C, cf. 878 C). So in Will. Malms. iv. 369, “pro lignorum penuria turris non magna, in modum ædificiorum facta; Berfreid appellant, quod fastigium murorum æquaret.” This is the beffroi, whose English form of belfry has got quite another use. It was made at Christmas, seemingly by order of Robert of Bellême. But one day, when the arch-enemy was driven back, a daring esquire, a kind of land Kanarês, climbed into it, and set it on fire (“Justo Dei judicio machina combusta est, quæ tyrannico jussu in diebus sanctæ nativitatis Domini proterve fabricata est;” 693 A). We have a story something like this in the legend of our own Hereward (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 472). The castle being newly built, they had not been able to build an oven inside it (“pro acceleratione obsidionis in novo munimento construere furnum oppidanis fas non fuerat”). They had therefore to make use of one which stood outside the castle, commanded by the beffroi (“Clibanus extra munitionem inter machinam oppidique portam stabat, ibique panificus [surely Eurysakês by the Porta Maggiore would have liked so sounding a title] ad subsidium inclusorum panes coquebat”). The beffroi then was not brought up immediately against the wall. There was therefore much fighting over the loaves, and many men were killed at this particular point. In one day’s fight twenty men were killed and many wounded. These last had a scruple; “de panibus emptis cruore suo non gustaverunt.” Notwithstanding the beffroi and the fighting, Duke Robert kept very bad watch; “In conspectu obsidentium commilitones obsessorum in castellum quotidie intrabant, et armis ac alimentis non curante duce socios ne deficerent confortabantur.”
The bishop of the diocese, Gerard of Seez (1082–1091), came and took up his quarters in the neighbourhood, in the abbey of Saint Peter-on-Dive, and tried to bring about peace (“ut dissidentes parrochianos suos pacificaret”); but in vain. A boy of noble birth in the Bishop’s service (“puer quidam qui præsuli ministrabat; idem puer Ricardus de Guaspreia, filius Sevoldi, vocitabatur”), who is afterwards described as “clericus” and “imberbis clericus,” rides about the camp in boyish fashion (“dum per exercitum puerili more ludens equitabat”). The boy’s family are among those who had to defend themselves against the devil of Bellême (“cujus parentela contra Robertum sese jamdudum defendere totis viribus nitebatur”). So, when young Richard appears in the camp, Robert pushes him from his horse, puts him in prison, takes the horse to himself, and threatens his master the Bishop (“Robertus injuriam ei [Gerardo] maximam fecit, eumque minis contristavit. Nam puerum … ejectum de equo comprehendit et in carcere trusit, sibique cornipedem retentavit”). The Bishop threatens the whole army with interdict, unless his beardless clerk is restored, which is done after a few days. The Bishop by this time is sick; he goes to Seez and dies, January 23, 1091, in the same week, according to Orderic (693 B), in which William Rufus crossed the sea. His successor was the more famous Serlo, who so vigorously sheared the locks of the Lion of Justice and his court.
The boy of high birth serving in the bishop’s household, and counted as belonging to the clerical order—he may even have held preferment, as “pueri canonici” were not unknown—is worth notice. The incredible tale told by Giraldus of William Longchamp (iv. 423) at least witnesses to the existence of “pueri nobiles ad mensam ministrantes” in a bishop’s court.
Lastly, it must not be forgotten that it was during the siege of Courcy, on the first day of the year 1091 (“in capite Januarii”), that a priest of the diocese of Lisieux, Walchelm by name, saw that wonderful vision of souls in purgatorial suffering, including many of his personal acquaintance and several respectable prelates, for Bishop Hugh of Lisieux and Abbot Mainer of Saint Evroul (see N. C. vol. iii. p. 383, vol. iv. p. 655) were there also, which is told so graphically by Orderic (693 C). A rationalistic mind may be tempted to see in the supernatural procession another of the endless forms of the Wild Huntsman; but a Defoe-like feeling of reality is given to the picture, when he reads that Walchelm thought that they were the following of Robert of Bellême going to besiege Courcy. He had gone to visit a sick parishioner at a great distance; “unde dum solus rediret, et longe ab hominum habitatione remotus iret, ingentem strepitum velut maximi exercitus cœpit audire, et familiam Roberti Belesmensis putavit esse, quæ festinaret Curceium obsidere.”