The Bessin and the Côtentin were now in open rebellion. We are told that men cursed the rebels, and wished well to the Duke in their hearts. But the revolted Barons had for the time the upper hand. They seized on the ducal revenues within their districts, and robbed and slew many who still clave to their allegiance. The dominion of the male line of Rolf, the very existence of Normandy as an united state, seemed in jeopardy. William did not venture to meet his enemies with the forces of the districts which |He seeks help of the King of the French.| still remained faithful. He was driven to seek for foreign aid, and he sought it in a quarter where one would think that nothing short of despair could have led him to think of seeking for it. He craved help of one who was indeed bound to grant it by every official and by every personal tie, but who had hitherto acted towards William only as a faithless enemy, ready to grasp at any advantage, however mean and treacherous. The Duke of the Normans, driven to such humiliation by the intrigues of an ungrateful kinsman, crossed the French border, and made his suit to his |Henry comes to his help in person.| Lord King Henry at Poissy.[758] He met with favour in the eyes of his suzerain; a French army, with the King at its head, was soon ready to march to the support of Duke William against his rebels. It is hard to see why Henry, whose whole earlier and later conduct is of so opposite a kind, stood forth for this once faithfully to discharge the duties of an honourable overlord towards an injured |His probable motives.| vassal. One would have thought that a revolt which, above all others, tended to the dismemberment of Normandy would have been hailed by Henry as exactly falling in with the interests of the suzerain power. Instead of the one strong and united state which had hitherto cut him off from the whole coast from Britanny to Ponthieu, there was now a chance of the establishment of two or three small principalities, each insignificant in itself, and all probably hostile to one another. Such states would run a fair risk of being recovered one by one by their overlord. Henry had himself in past years encroached on the Norman territory, and he had not scrupled to give encouragement to Norman traitors against their own sovereign. Yet the common interest of princes may have led him to see that it was bad policy to abet open rebellion, and he may have doubted whether the aggrandizement of the mutinous Barons of the Bessin and the Côtentin would be any real gain to France. Such neighbours might prove far more turbulent as vassals, and might not be much more easy to subdue as enemies, than the comparatively firm and orderly government of the Dukes of Rouen. At all events French aid was freely granted to the princely suppliant.[759] The King set forth at the head of his army to join the troops which William had gathered from the loyal districts, and to share with them in a decisive encounter with the rebel forces.
The French and the loyal Normans joined their forces some miles to the east of Caen, in the neighbourhood of the memorable field of Val-ès-dunes. The spot is not one specially attractive in itself; it is not one of those spots which seem marked out by the hand of nature as specially designed to become the scene of great historical events. But we shall see that, for the purposes of the particular battle which was fought there, no ground could have been better suited. Nor, at first sight, does the fight of Val-ès-dunes, an engagement of cavalry between two Norman factions, seem to have any claim to a place among the |its importance in the life of William.| great battles of history. But Val-ès-dunes was the first pitched battle of the Conqueror; it was the field on which he first won a right to that lofty title, and the lessons which he learned there stood him in good stead on a far more awful day. And, more than this, it was there that William conquered his own land and his own people, and by that earlier conquest both schooled and strengthened himself for his mightier conquest beyond the sea. Normandy had first to be firmly grasped, and her fierce Barons to be brought under the yoke, before the hand of William could be stretched forth to fix its grasp on England, and to press the yoke upon the necks of her people. In a word, the strife with Randolf and Neal and their revolted provinces was the needful forerunner of the strife with Harold and his Kingdom. The tourney of Norman horsemen upon the open slope of Val-ès-dunes was William’s school of fence for the sterner clashing of axe and spear upon the palisaded heights of Senlac.
And there is another aspect in which the two battles have a common feature. Val-ès-dunes, no less than Senlac, was a struggle between the Roman and the Teuton. The fact was not indeed forced in the same way upon men’s minds by the outward contrast of language, of tactics, of every badge of national difference. Still it is none the less true that, at Val-ès-dunes, the old Scandinavian blood of Normandy found its match, and more than its match, in the power of France and of the French portions of the Norman Duchy. Danish Coutances and Saxon Bayeux were brought face to face with Romanized |District which supported William.| Rouen and Evreux and with royal Paris itself. From all the lands east of the Dive men flocked to the Ducal standard. The episcopal cities of Lisieux and Evreux, along with primatial Rouen, sent forth their loyal burghers, and the men of the surrounding districts pressed no less eagerly to the muster. They came, according to the old division, which the suppression of the peasant revolt had not wholly broken up, arranged in companies which still retained the name of communes, suggesting the freedom which they had perhaps not wholly lost.[760] From beyond the Seine came the troops of Caux, and from the south of the Duchy came the men of Auge, and of Duke Robert’s County of Hiesmes. And who can doubt that foremost among them all were the burghers of William’s own Falaise, zealous on behalf of a Prince who was also their own immediate countryman? But the whole west of Normandy, the land where the old Norman speech and spirit had longest lingered, was arrayed on the side of the rebels. Except the contingent of his own birthplace and its neighbourhood, no part of the Duke’s force seems to have come from the lands west of the Dive; all else came from the old domain of Rolf, the oldest, but, then as now, not the most Norman Normandy.[761]
The field of battle lies just within the hostile country.[762] South-east of Caen, in continuation of the high ground of Allemagne[763] immediately south of the town, stretches a long, broad, and slightly elevated plain, sloping gently towards the east.[764] It hardly deserves to be called a hill, and the indentations with which its sides are broken hardly deserve to be called valleys.[765] Several villages and churches, Secqueville, Bellengreville, Billy, Chicheboville, form the boundaries of the field, but the plain itself is open and without any remarkable feature. A ridge somewhat higher than the rest of the ground, known as Mount Saint Lawrence, is the only conspicuous point of the plain itself, and this marks the western boundary of the actual battle-ground. The little stream of the Muance, a tributary of the Orne, bounds the plain to the south-east.[766] To the north lies the high ground of Argences, over which William advanced with the troops of the loyal districts. The French auxiliaries, approaching from the south by way of Mezidon, first reached the little village of Valmeray, where a ruined tower of later date marks the site of the church of Saint Brice in which King Henry heard mass |Junction of the Ducal and French forces.| before the battle.[767] Meanwhile the Duke’s forces crossed the Muance at the ford of Berengier,[768] and at once joined the French. King and Duke now ranged their troops in the order in which it was most natural to meet an enemy advancing from the west. The Normans, who had come from the north, formed the right wing, while the French, coming from the south, naturally formed the left.[769] There was pitched the royal standard, on which we are told that the presumption of the upstart house of Paris had dared to emblazon the eagle of Julius and Charles.[770] King Henry and Duke William, each baton in hand,[771] were now marshalling their troops, and the battle seemed about to begin, when, if we may trust our only detailed narrative of that day’s fight, one side was cheered and the other dispirited by an unlooked for incident.
Ralph of Tesson was lord of the forest of Cingueleiz, |Ralph of Tesson joins the Duke.| the forest some way to the south of Caen, between the rivers Orne and Lise, and his chief seat was at Harcourt Thury. He was a lord of great power, and his contingent is said to have mustered no less than a hundred and twenty knights with their banners and tokens.[772] He had no ground of offence against the Duke; yet he had joined in the conspiracy, and had sworn on the saints at Bayeux to smite William wherever he found him.[773] But his heart smote him when he found himself standing face to face against his lord in open battle. His knights too pressed around him, and reminded him of his homage and plighted faith, and how he who fought against his natural lord had no right to fief or honour.[774] On the other hand the Viscounts Neal and Randolf pressed him to stand firmly by them, and promised great rewards as the price of his adherence. For a while he stood doubtful, keeping his troop apart from either army. We are told that the King and the Duke marked them as they stood, and that William told Henry that he knew them for the men of Ralph of Tesson, that their leader had no grudge against him, and that he believed that they would all soon be on his side. Presently the arguments of his own knights prevailed with Ralph; he bade them halt, and he himself spurred across the field, shouting as his war-cry the name of his lordship of Thury.[775] He rode up to the Duke, he struck him with his glove, and so performed his oath to smite William wherever he found him.[776] The Duke welcomed the returning penitent, and Ralph rode back to his men. His detachment stood aside for a space till the two hosts were engaged in the thick of the battle. He then watched his opportunity, and made a vigorous charge on the side of the Duke.
Such an auspicious reinforcement might well stir up the spirits of the young Duke and his followers. Every man was eager for battle. A fierce combat of cavalry began. We have heard of the infantry of the communes as appearing at the ducal muster, but we hear nothing of them in the battle. We hear nothing of the Norman archers, who were to win so terrible a renown upon a later field. All is one vast tourney, mounted knights charging one another with shield, sword, and lance. The first great battle of William, like the first great battle of Alexander,[777] was truly a battle of chivalry in every sense of the word, a hand to hand personal fight between mounted nobles on either side. On pressed the Duke, sword in hand, seeking out the perjured Viscounts,[778] and shouting the war-cry of Normandy, “Dex aie.”[779] On the same side rose the shout of “Montjoye-Saint-Denys,” the national war-cry of the French Kingdom. From the rebel host arose the names of various local saints, patrons of the castles and churches of the revolted leaders, Saint Sever, Saint Amand, and others of less renown.[780] On the rebel left rode the men of the Bessin, on the right those of the Côtentin. The men of the peninsula thus came face to face with the |Personal exertions of King Henry.| royal troops; the King of the French, as in the old days of Lewis and Harold,[781] had to meet in close fight with the fiercest and most unconquerable warriors of the Norman name. And well and bravely did King Henry do his duty on that one day of his life. Even in the Norman picture, it is around the King, rather than around the Duke, that the main storm of battle is made to centre. The knights now met on each side, lance to lance, and, when their lances were shivered, sword to sword. There was no difference of tactics, no contrast between one weapon and another; the fight of Val-ès-dunes was the sheer physical encounter of horse and man, the mere trial of personal strength and personal skill in knightly exercises. The King, as in such a fight any man of common courage must do, exposed himself freely to danger; but, as far as his personal adventures went, the royal share in the battle was somewhat unlucky. Once, if not twice, the King of the French, the overlord of Normandy, was hurled from his horse by the thrust of a Norman lance. A knight of the Côtentin first overthrew him by a sudden charge. The exploit was long remembered in the rhymes of his warlike province,[782] but the hero of it purchased his renown with his life. The King was unhurt, but the report of such an accident might easily spread confusion among his army. Like more renowned warriors before and after, like Eadmund at Sherstone,[783] like William at Senlac, it was needful that he should show himself to his followers, and wipe out the misfortune by fresh exploits. Henry was therefore soon again in the thickest of the fight; but, less fortunate than either Eadmund or William, the like mishap befell him a second time.[784] The King presently encountered one of the three great chiefs of the rebellion; another thrust, dealt by the lance of Hamon, again laid Henry on the ground; but a well timed stroke from a French knight more than avenged this second overthrow; the Lord of Thorigny was carried off dead on his shield like an old Spartan.[785]
The King honoured his valiant adversary, and, by his express order, Hamon was buried with all fitting splendour before the Church of Our Lady at Esquai on the Orne.[786]
The King is thus made decidedly the most prominent figure in the picture, and, somewhat inglorious as were Henry’s personal experiences that day, it is to him and his Frenchmen that the Norman poet does not scruple to attribute the victory.[787] The fight appears throughout as |Exploits and good fortune of William.| a fight between Normans and Frenchmen.[788] But the Duke of the Normans himself was not idle. If his royal ally was personally unlucky, it was on this day that William began that career of personal success, of good fortune in the mere tug of battle, which, till the clouded evening of his life, was as conspicuous as the higher triumphs of his military genius and his political craft. Men loved to tell how the young Duke slew with his own hand the beloved vassal of Randolf, Hardrez, the choicest warrior of Bayeux;[789] how the veteran champion, in the pride of his might, rode defiant in the front rank; how the Duke rode straight at him, not justing with his lance as in a mimic tourney, but smiting hand to hand with the sword. The poet rises to an almost Homeric flight, when he tells us how William smote the rebel below the chin, how he drove the sharp steel between the throat and the chest, how the body fell beneath his stroke and the soul passed away.[790]
The fortune of the day was now distinctly turning against the rebels; but, had all of them displayed equal courage, the issue of the struggle might still have been unfavourable to King and Duke. Neal of Saint Saviour still fought among the foremost of the men of his peninsula, but the heart of his accomplice from Bayeux began to fail him. Randolf had seen his most cherished vassal fall by the hand of his young sovereign; his heart quailed lest the like fate should be his own; he feared lest Neal had fled; he feared that he was betrayed to the enemy; he repented that he had ever put on his helmet; it was sad to be taken captive, it was a still worse doom to be slain. The battle ceased to give him any pleasure;[791] he gave way before every charge; he wandered in front and in rear; at last he lost heart altogether; he dropped his lance and his shield, he stretched forth his neck,[792] and rode |Neal continues the fight to the last.| for his life. The cowards, we are told, followed him; but Neal still continued the fight, giving and taking blows till his strength failed him. The French pressed upon him; their numbers increased, the numbers of the Normans lessened; some of his followers had fled, others lay dead and dying around him. At last the mighty lord of the Côtentin saw that all hope was lost. On the rising ground of Saint Lawrence the last blow seems to have been struck. The spot was afterwards marked by a commemorative chapel, which was destroyed by the Huguenots in the religious wars. On its site it doubtless was that the valiant Neal at last turned and left the field, seemingly the last man of the whole rebel army.
The rout now became general. The example of Randolf drew after it far more followers than the example of Neal. The rebels rode for their lives in small parties, the troops of the King and the Duke following hard upon them, and smiting them from the rear. From the ridge of Saint Lawrence they rode westward, to reach the friendly land of Bayeux;[793] they rode by the Abbey of Fontenay and the quarries of Allemagne; but the flood of the Orne checked their course; men and horses were swept away by the stream, or were slaughtered by the pursuers in the attempt to cross; the mills of Borbillon, we are told, were stopped by the dead bodies.[794]
The victory was a decisive one, and it was one which proved no less decisive in its lasting results than it had been |The French auxiliaries return.| as a mere success on the field of battle. King Henry, who had done his work well and faithfully, now went back to his own land, and left William to complete the reduction of his revolted subjects. One of them, the original author of the plot, still offered him a long and vigorous resistance. Of the conduct of Guy of Burgundy in the field we hear nothing, except an incidental mention of a wound which he received there.[795] Indeed, since the appearance of his three great Norman adherents, the |Escape of Guy.| Burgundian prince has nearly dropped out of sight.[796] He now reappears, to receive from the Norman writers a vast out-pouring of scorn on account of his flight from the field,[797] though it does not appear to have been in any way more ignominious than the flight of the mass of his Norman allies. At any rate he was not borne away in the indiscriminate rush of his comrades towards the Orne. He escaped, with a large body of companions,[798] in quite the opposite direction, to his own castle of Brionne on the |He defends himself at Brionne.| Risle. There he took up a position of defence, and was speedily followed and besieged by Duke William. The castle of Brionne of those days was not the hill fortress, the shell of a donjon of that or of the next age, which now looks down upon the town and valley beneath. The stronghold of Count Guy had natural defences, but they were defences of another kind. The town itself seems to have been strongly fortified; but the point of defence which was most relied on at Brionne was the fortified hall of stone which stood on an island in the river.[799] William had, before now, by one vigorous assault, brought his own native Falaise to surrender;[800] but, though we are expressly told that the stream was everywhere fordable, the island fortress seems to have been deemed proof against any attacks |Siege of Brionne 1047–1050?| of this kind. A regular siege alone could reduce it, and William was driven to practise all the devices of the military art of his day against his rebellious cousin. He built a castle, this time very possibly of wood, on each side of the river, and thus cut off the besieged from their supplies of provisions.[801] Constant assaults on the beleaguered castle are spoken of, but their aim seems to have been mainly to frighten the besieged rather than to produce any more practical effect;[802] hunger was the sure and slow means on which William relied to bring Guy to reason. The siege was clearly a long one, though it is hardly possible to believe, on the incidental statement of a single authority, that it was spread over a space of three years.[803] |Surrender of Brionne.| At last the endurance of Guy and his companions gave way, and he sent messengers praying for mercy. The Duke required the surrender of the castle; but touched, we are told, by the tie of kindred blood, he bade Guy |William’s clemency to the vanquished.| remain in his court.[804] Nor was the Duke’s hand, on the whole, heavy on the other offenders. No man was put to death, though William’s panegyrist holds that death |Rarity of political executions.| was the fitting punishment for their offences.[805] But in those days, both in Normandy and elsewhere, the legal execution of a state criminal was an event which seldom happened. Men’s lives were recklessly wasted in the endless warfare of the times, and there were men, as we have seen, who did not shrink from private murder, even in its basest form.[806] But the formal hanging or beheading of a noble prisoner, so common in later times, was, in the eleventh century, distinctly an unusual sight.[807] And, strange as it may sound, there was a sense in which |William’s ordinary treatment of enemies.| William the Conqueror was not a man of blood. He would sacrifice any number of lives to his boundless ambition; he did not scruple to condemn his enemies to cruel personal mutilations; he would keep men for years, as a mere measure of security, in the horrible prison-houses of those days; but the extinction of human life in cold blood was something from which he shrank. His biographer exultingly points out this feature in his character, and his recorded acts do not belie his praise.[808] Once only did he swerve from this rule, when he sent the noble Waltheof to the scaffold. And, as that act stands out conspicuously from its contrast to his ordinary conduct, so it is the act from which it is impossible not to date the decline of his high fortune. And, at the time of his first great victory, William was of an age which is commonly disposed to be generous, and none of the worse features of his character had hitherto come to the surface. With one exception only, no very hard punishments were inflicted on the conquered |Destruction of the castles.| rebels. The mass of the rebellious Barons paid fines, gave hostages, and had to submit to the destruction of the castles which they had raised without the ducal licence.[809] To this, and to other measures of the same kind, it is owing that such small traces of the Norman castles of the eleventh century now remain. Neal of Saint Saviour had to retire for a time to Britanny, but his exile must have been short, as we find him, seemingly in the very next year, again in office and in the ducal favour. He survived his restoration forty-four years;[810] he lived to repay at Senlac the old wrong done by Englishmen to his father’s province; but, almost alone among the great Norman chiefs, he received |Guy returns to Burgundy.| no share in the spoils of England. As for Guy, he presently left the country of his own free will. His sojourn at William’s court must have been little else than an honourable imprisonment, and it would seem that he now found little respect or sympathy in Normandy.[811] He returned to his native land, the Burgundian Palatinate, and there, we are told, spent the rest of his days in plotting against his brother, the reigning Count William.[812] |Fate of Grimbald.| One criminal only was reserved for a harsher fate. Grimbald was taken to Rouen, and there kept in prison—such as prisons were in those days—and in fetters. He was looked on as the foulest traitor of all; he it was whom the Duke charged with the personal attempt on his life at Valognes.[813] Grimbald confessed the crime, and named as his accomplice a knight named Salle the son of Hugh. The accused denied the charge, and challenged Grimbald to the judicial combat. Before the appointed day of battle came, Grimbald was found dead in his prison. He was buried with his fetters on his legs, his lands were confiscated, and part of them was given to the church of Bayeux. Plessis became a domain of the see, and other portions of the estates of Grimbald became the corpses of various prebends in the cathedral church.[814]
The power of William was now on the whole firmly established. He had still to repel many attacks from hostile neighbours, and we shall have yet to record one more considerable revolt within the Norman territory. But the Norman Barons now knew that they had a master.[815] For some years to come, internal discord, strictly so called, underwent a sort of lull to a degree most remarkable in such an age. Under the firm and equal government of her great Duke, Normandy began to recover from her years of anarchy, and to rise to a higher degree of prosperity than she had ever yet attained to.[816] |Effect of the struggle.| The Duchy became, more completely than it had ever been before, a member of the European and of the Capetian |The supremacy of the French element confirmed.| commonwealth. The Capetian King indeed soon learned again to look with a grudging eye on his northern neighbour; but the general result of the struggle must have been to make Normandy still more French than before. The French and the Scandinavian elements had met face to face, and the French element had had the upper hand. Frenchmen and French Normans had overthrown the stout Saxons of the Bessin and the fierce Danes of the Côtentin. The distinction between the two parts of Normandy is still one which even the passing traveller may remark; but, from the day of Val-ès-dunes, it ceased to manifest itself in the great outward expressions of language and political feeling. The struggle which began during the minority of Richard the Fearless was now finally decided at the close of the minority of William the Bastard. The Count of Rouen had overcome Saxons and Danes within his own dominions, and he was about to weld them into his most trustworthy weapons wherewith to overcome Saxons and Danes beyond the sea. The omen of the fight against Neal and Hamon might well have recurred to the mind of William, when Neal himself and the son of Hamon marched forth at his side from the camp at Hastings, and went on to complete the conquest of England at Exeter and York.
William was thus at peace at home; his next war was indeed one of his own seeking, but it was one from which he could not have shrunk without breaking through every |The Counts of Anjou; their connexion with Norman and English history.| tie alike of gratitude and of feudal duty. This is the first time that I have had directly to mention a power, which had been, for more than a hundred years, steadily growing up to the south of Normandy, and which was to exercise a most important influence on the future history of Normandy and, through Normandy, on that of England. I mean the dynasty of the Counts of Anjou. That |1154.| house, the house which mounted the throne of England in the person of a great-grandson of William, produced a succession of princes to whose personal qualities it must mainly have been owing that their dominions fill the place which they do fill in French and in European history. |Characteristics of Angevin history.| Anjou holds a peculiar position among the great fiefs of France. It was a singular destiny which gave so marked a character, and so conspicuous a history, to a country which seems in no way marked out for separate existence by any geographical or national distinction. Normandy, Britanny, Flanders, Aquitaine, Ducal Burgundy, all had a being of their own; they were fiefs of the Crown of France, but they were in no sense French provinces. But Anjou was at most an outpost on the Loire, a border district of France and Aquitaine; beyond this position it had nothing specially to distinguish it from any other part of the great |Saxon occupation. 464.| Parisian Duchy.[817] A momentary Saxon occupation in the fifth century[818] cannot be supposed to have left behind it any such abiding traces as were certainly left by the settlement of the same people at Bayeux, perhaps even by their less famous settlement at Seez.[819] It was wholly to the energy and the marked character of its individual rulers that Anjou owes its distinct and prominent place among the principalities of Gaul. The restless spirit of the race showed itself sometimes for good and sometimes for evil, but there was no Count of Anjou who could be called a fool, a coward, or a fainéant. The history or legends of the family which was to rise to such greatness laid claim |Ingelgar, first Count. 870?| to no very remote or illustrious pedigree.[820] The first Count of Anjou, who held a part only of the later County,[821] was invested with that dignity either by Charles the Bald or by his son Lewis the Stammerer.[822] He bore the name of Ingelgar, and he seems to be the first member of the family who can be unhesitatingly set down as historical. His grandfather, |Peasant origin of the family.| Torquatius or Tortulfus, was, according to the legend, a peasant, and seems to have sprung from that Breton race of which his descendants became the most persevering enemies. It must have been a later version of the tale which invented for him a Roman name and a Roman descent.[823] |Torquatius and Tertullus.| The son of Torquatius, Tertullus, rose, we are told, to importance at the court of Charles, and founded the |Historical value of these tales.| greatness of his house.[824] Whatever may be the amount of strictly historical truth preserved in these stories, they are, in one point of view, of no small historical value. Like the similar story of the origin of Godwine, they point to a belief, which can hardly have been ill-founded, that, in Gaul in the ninth century and in England in the eleventh, ignoble birth did not disqualify a man from rising to the highest dignities, or from founding a dynasty of Princes or even of Kings.[825] But, when we reach Ingelgar, we seem to stand on more distinctly historical ground. He held Amboise in Touraine as an allodial possession,[826] and he was, as we have seen, invested with the Countship of Anjou on the hither side of the Mayenne. But it is plain that no detailed account of his actions, or of those of his immediate successors, was preserved.[827] |Fulk the Red. 888.| His son Fulk the Red received from Charles the Simple the remaining portion of the County of Anjou, that beyond the Mayenne, and he vigorously defended his enlarged dominions against the attacks of Northmen and Bretons.[828] |Fulk the Good. 938.| This Romulus was appropriately succeeded by a Numa, Fulk the Good, renowned for his piety, his almsdeeds, his just and peaceful government, and for being the traditional author of the proverb that an unlettered King is but |Geoffrey Grisegonelle. 958.| a crowned ass.[829] His son, Geoffrey Grisegonelle,[830] renewed the warlike fame of his house; he fought with his neighbours of Britanny and Aquitaine; and he is said to |978.| have borne an important share in the wars between King Lothar and the Emperor Otto the Second.[831] After |Fulk Nerra. 987.| him came his son Fulk,[832] surnamed Nerra or the Black, renowned as a warrior and still more renowned as a pilgrim, and who is the first prince of his house whose name has found its way into the general history of France. He overthrew his brother-in-law Conan of Britanny in one or |992.| more pitched battles, which French, as well as Breton and |His war with Odo of Chartres.| Angevin, writers thought worthy of record. He was also engaged in a war with his neighbour Odo the Second, Count of Blois and Chartres, the grandson of the famous Theobald, a war which passed on as an inheritance to the next generation, and which proved the origin of the first entanglements between Normandy and Anjou.[833] It sounds like an incursion from another hemisphere, when we read how Aldebert, Count of Perigueux, Perigueux with its cupolas and its Roman tower, far away in the heart of Aquitaine, appeared as an ally of the Angevin |Fulk gains and loses Tours. 990.| Count. He took Tours and gave it to Fulk, but the citizens were ill disposed to their new master, and Odo |Battle of Pontlevois. 1016.| recovered it after a short time. Later in his reign, Fulk defeated Odo in a great battle at Pontlevois in the territory |1031.| of Touraine, and afterwards gained or recovered Saumur. We have already met with him in the character of a mediator between contending candidates for the Crown of France,[834] and he appears also in the less honourable light of an assassin, who removed a courtier of King Robert who stood in the way of the plans of his own termagant niece Queen Constance.[835] We hear also heavy complaints of him as a violator of ecclesiastical rule, by setting up the usurped authority of the See of Rome against the rights |His pilgrimages. 1028, 1035.| of the independent metropolitans of Gaul.[836] But he is perhaps best known for his two pilgrimages to the Holy Sepulchre, for the ready ingenuity which he displayed on his first journey, and for the extreme of penitential humiliation by which he edified all men on the second.[837] Less happy in his private than in his public career, he was troubled in his last years by a rebellion of his son;[838] he was charged, truly or falsely, with the murder of one wife, and with driving another from him by ill-treatment.[839] A reign of unusual length made him, during a few years, a contemporary of the Great William, and at last he left his dominions to a son under whom Normans and Angevins met for the first time in open warfare.