‘Gent jofne e salvage’: Pressures from within the Household
The underlying tensions between father and son were exacerbated by pressure from others with vested interests. A young prince’s household companions, hungry for lands or heiresses, were often all too eager to pressure their lord into making demands for territories from which they could be suitably rewarded. Orderic had laid much of the blame for Robert’s bitter quarrel with his father on such companions, and has the Conqueror warn his son against the seditious iuvenes who urged him to make unjustified demands on his father for their own profit.66 Similarly, in the late 1170s the newly knighted Arnold of Ardres quarrelled with his father, the count of Guines, over knights he retained in his household, especially one prominent advisor, Philip of Montgardin, who repeatedly ‘urged Arnold to ask and beg his father for Ardres and the properties that belonged to him through his mother’s side’.67 That young Henry was similarly influenced by companions in his mesnie is indicated by the fact that in late February 1173 Henry II expelled some individuals he regarded as troublemakers from his son’s household, especially Hasculf of St Hilaire ‘and other young knights (alios equites juniores)’.68 Henry’s purge of his son’s household, however, only served to underline the Young King’s dependence and subordinate status, and to fuel his resentment.69 In such circumstances, it was all too easy for young firebrands to urge force as a means of obtaining rights unjustly withheld. In 1173, Jordan Fantosme believed that at William the Lion’s court it was just such ‘young and untutored’ knights (ces chevaliers, gent jofne e salvage) – youthful hotheads with little to lose and much to gain – who urged the Scottish king to go to war against Henry II in support of the Young King.70
Even though he himself was not dismissed in 1173, William Marshal was, as a leading figure in the Young King’s mesnie, likely to have been among those relentlessly importuning young Henry for advancement. His propensity to continually badger for reward is strikingly illustrated some years later in a writ of Henry II promising William the honour of Châteauroux in return for his military support in 1188, with the king adding wryly that ‘you have ever so often moaned to me that I have bestowed on you a small fee’.71 The History of William Marshal naturally makes no mention of such actions, but disingenuously lays the blame for the quarrel between father and son on the malice of some of Henry II’s own followers. ‘These tale-bearers (losengers), these vicious men, these base scoundrels’, it claimed, had stirred the Old King up against some of young Henry’s tutors, whom they accused of encouraging the Young King’s ruinously lavish expenditure. Misled by them, Henry II supposedly instructed the Young King to ‘make out as best he could, for never more would he use any of his resources to make generous gifts, since the life his son led was far too lavish’.72 Amazed by his father’s reaction, the Young King inclined to those ‘who advised him to turn against his father, and to use force to reduce him, against his will, to doing all his son’s desires and wishes’.73 Though this story may perhaps reflect the view from within the Young King’s mesnie, it was transparently an attempt to shift the blame for the ensuing rebellion from Young Henry – and from his closest familiaris, William Marshal.
William of Newburgh, by contrast, believed that young Henry felt his father was being too parsimonious: ‘he was highly indignant because his father had but sparingly supplied him with money to meet the expenses of his royal state’.74 It may be that Henry II and his son disagreed about what constituted a suitable income, and certainly the question of revenue and a young lord’s propensity for reckless spending were common sources of tension between fathers and sons. In the late 1170s or early 1180s, Arnold of Ardres, reconciled with his father after a quarrel over his inheritance, now obeyed him, ‘except that he is said to have had more knightly companions than his father, and to have made more lavish expenditures than the extent of his possessions demanded, since he persisted in giving larger gifts than his father’s advice taught or recommended’. ‘Indeed,’ noted Lambert, ‘he gave more than he owned or kept for himself.’75 Nevertheless, Henry II was to show himself consistently generous in the subsequent financial settlements he would offer his son, and his attitude to the Young King’s activities on the tourneying circuit between 1176 and 1182 strongly suggests that the Old King had little objection to his son’s extravagant lifestyle and open-handed giving.
The issue at stake, however, was about far more than mere revenue: it was a matter of status, honour and authority.76 In describing the quarrel of 1173, the chronicler of the Brut y Tywysogion recognized the wider problem:
In the meantime, whilst the king of England, Henry the Elder was staying beyond the sea, Henry the Younger, his son, came to him to ask him what he might do or what he ought to do after his being ordained new king. For although he was king with many knights under him, yet he had no means by which he could reward them, unless he obtained it from his father. And that was in Lent. And his father replied that he would give him for expenses twenty pounds daily of the money of that land. And the son, when he heard that, said that he had never heard of a king being a paid servant, and that he would not be such.77
The Brut here closely echoes the words of the Young King himself in a letter of justification sent to Pope Alexander III shortly after the outbreak of the war against his father.78 Setting out a range of grievances, young Henry complained that though he had been crowned, against his own will, by his father, Henry II had nonetheless withheld power from him. As a result, young Henry was unable to protect the oppressed and exercise justice. Henry II, moreover, had imposed his own counsellors on his son, and had even removed members of young Henry’s household in whom he trusted.79 Such actions had damaged the Young King’s honour, for they had been carried out ‘quasi in contemptum nostrum et ignominiam’.80 ‘We remain silent now as then,’ he added, ‘about how, having taken away all my jurisdiction, he made a mercenary of a king and of his own son (de rege et filio stipendiarium faceret).’81 Here, the Young King’s language is strikingly similar to the remark that Orderic Vitalis puts into the mouth of Robert Curthose during his bitter dispute with his father William the Conqueror, c.1078, which descended into open rebellion. When Robert’s request to be given rule of Normandy under his father’s lordship was refused, he angrily retorted:
I am not prepared to be your hireling (mercennarius tuus) for ever. I want at long last to have property of my own, so that I can give proper wages to my own dependants (famulantes). I ask you therefore to grant me legal control of the duchy, so that, just as you rule over the kingdom of England, I, under your rule, may rule over the duchy of Normandy.82
For young Henry, the fact that a crowned and anointed king, married to the daughter of the king of France, was reduced to little more than a pensioner on his father’s payroll was still more intolerable. It was, he said, ‘shameful for a consecrated king to have to beg bread from others’.83
Beyond the ambitious young knights of his household, there were other, more dangerous forces at work to pit son against father. The summit of 1173, which marked so clear a demonstration of Henry II’s power, and the Maurienne agreement that envisaged it extending yet further, was the catalyst to set in motion the conspiracy which had been gradually forming since 1171.84 Howden recorded the belief that the Young King had been put up to making his demand for England, Normandy or Anjou by King Louis and those magnates who hated Henry II, and that the authors of the plot were Louis and, ‘so it was said by certain people’, Queen Eleanor and her uncle Ralph, lord of Faye-la-Vineuse in Anjou.85 A Poitevin, Ralph had as seneschal of the Saintonge gained an evil reputation as an oppressor and despoiler of church lands, not least those of the monks of St Radegonde in Poitiers and the priory of Oléron.86 As early as 1165, John, bishop of Poitiers, had warned the exiled Thomas Becket that he could expect no aid from Queen Eleanor, then based at Angers and acting as regent during the king’s absence in England, ‘since she relies entirely on Ralph de Faie’. And, he added darkly, ‘every day many tendencies come
to light which make it possible to believe that there is truth in the dishonourable tale we remember mentioning elsewhere’.87 The Tours chronicler also names Hugh of Sainte-Maure as one who, together with Ralph, had stirred up Eleanor against Henry II.88 Ralph appears in Henry II’s treaty with Humbert of Maurienne as one of the guarantors for the king, so, like Eleanor, he was certainly on hand to fuel the Young King’s sense of grievance.89 As Matthew Paris later noted, Eleanor, Hugh and Ralph incited young Henry to rebellion by telling him, ‘It is not fitting that a king, whosoever he may be, should be seen [as] unable to exercise in his kingdom the power he has a right to’.90 Not only that, but as William of Newburgh believed, ‘certain persons indeed whispered in his ear that he ought now by rights to reign alone, for at his coronation his father’s reign had, as it were, ceased’.91
A Great Escape
It was Raymond V who warned Henry that his wife and sons were plotting against him. On the count’s advice, Henry II left the town with a small escort, as if he was going hunting, but being careful to take his eldest son and his companions with him. He then headed swiftly for Normandy, sending orders to fortify his towns and castles.92 By now, the Angevin court was riven with mutual suspicions. The Melrose Chronicle recorded the belief that the Old King had even considered keeping his son in confinement: ‘The father had intended to capture his son, and to put him in a sure and close place of custody, so at least common report goes.’93 That young Henry believed, or was encouraged to believe, that this was his father’s plan makes his next move more explicable, for the situation was soon to change dramatically.
When the royal entourage reached the great fortress of Chinon, it halted for the night.94 But, unbeknown to his father, the Young King had resolved to make a daring escape. Somehow, among the bustle of the court as it settled into its lodgings, he and his personal retinue managed to give the slip to Henry II’s men and those of his own household appointed by his father. A version of the story which reached Wales told how the Young King had attempted to borrow money from the burgesses of Chinon but was thwarted by his father’s agents, who secretly forbade the citizens to make a loan. Then, when some of his father’s counsellors were sent ‘to keep friendly watch lest his son should go anywhere thence’, young Henry made merry with them till they were drunk on fine wine, before stealing away.95 The excuse of carousing in the town with his companions would certainly have freed young Henry and his mesnie from the confines of the fortress. By whatever means it had been achieved, however, it was a bold escapade, binding together Henry and his young companions in a shared sense of danger and purpose. Riding hard through the night, and almost certainly taking spare horses with them, they crossed the Loire and headed due north, passing Le Mans and continuing on until they reached Alençon – a journey of nearly 100 miles. Here they could be assured of welcome, as Count John of Sées was to be one of young Henry’s followers in the ensuing rebellion.96
Knowing that his father was bound to pursue him, the Young King could not tarry. The fact that he initially pressed on further into Normandy, striking north-west as far as Argentan, may suggest that his initial plan had been to head for the coast and thence to England, where some of his supporters were at this time.97 Had they aimed from the start to reach the Île-de-France, or the friendly territory of the count of Blois, the fugitives could have taken a much more direct route by riding north-east towards Vendôme, and thence via Châteaudun to Chartres.98 Any attempt to cross the Channel, however, risked the vagaries of wind and tide, and the Young King could not have been sure of the loyalty of sailors or of those guarding the ports of Normandy or England. A delay of only a day or so and all might be lost, for his father was hot on his heels. As soon as King Henry had learned of young Henry’s flight, he set off in pursuit, taking only a small retinue and frequently changing horses. He reached Alençon the night the fugitives had gained Argentan, nearly twenty-five miles further north, but the Young King and his companions had kept this advantage by mounting again at cockcrow.99 From Argentan they swung back south-east, riding via Mortagne, with the safe conduct of Rotrou, count of Perche, who may well have been in on the initial conspiracy.100 From thence it was an easy stage to Chartres, where they knew Louis VII was in residence, and by nightfall they were safe within the Capetian heartlands.101
The Young King had escaped from his father’s power. It soon became clear, however, that his precipitous flight had badly wrong-footed several of his fellow conspirators, who as yet were not prepared for open action against Henry II. Robert, earl of Leicester, had no time to garrison Breteuil, his principal Norman castle, and was forced to flee to France, abandoning it to Henry II’s forces.102 His English estates were confiscated, and their revenues accounted for at the Exchequer.103 Similarly, his kinsman Robert, count of Meulan, quickly followed young Henry to France, also leaving his castles without garrisons, and the Old King moved swiftly to occupy them.104 William de Tancarville found himself on the wrong side of the Channel, but somehow he managed to leave England and join the Young King’s cause. Likewise Hugh, earl of Chester, was just returning from a pilgrimage to St James at Compostella, but immediately joined Young Henry in France, as did William Patrick senior, together with his three sons, ‘and many others of lesser name’.105 Clearly, these men regarded themselves as irrevocably committed to young Henry’s rebellion: dissimulation was no longer an option. Once their defection was known, Henry II had their houses, parks and woods destroyed, both as punishment and as a warning to others contemplating similar desertion.106 The most striking indication of the unplanned nature of the Young King’s escape, however, is that he had not been able to send his wife Margaret to the safety of her father at the Capetian court. Instead, she now became Henry II’s hostage in all but name, joining her sister Alice in the Old King’s custody.107 Only the knowledge that Henry II had got wind of the conspiracy, and a deep-seated fear that his father would indeed arrest and imprison him, can have led the Young King to set in motion so prematurely an insurrection that had been long in gestation but was not yet ripe for action.
A Household Divided
The Young King’s flight had painfully exposed the divisions within his own household. He had left behind at Chinon those officials who had been his father’s appointees, including his chancellor, Richard Barre, Ailward his chamberlain, his chaplain Walter of Coutances, William Blund, his usher, and a number of other retainers, together with his baggage train of wagons and sumpter horses carrying his equipment. These men now returned to Henry II, and Barre surrendered to him the Young King’s great seal, which the Old King ordered to be securely guarded.108 Yet in a gesture of magnanimity and in the hope of yet achieving a reconciliation with his son, Henry II ordered these familiares to return to his son, and sent with them precious gifts, including silver plate, fine horses and raiment.109 Yet what young Henry desired was not such trappings, but real authority. He accordingly demanded of the men returning to him that they swear an oath of fidelity to him against his father. Hitherto, all acts of homage and fealty to young Henry before and after his coronation had been made, properly enough, with a saving clause reserving faith to his father. Now the two monarchs were at odds, however, the Young King was determined to extract an unconditional pledge of loyalty. It was a mark of his deep frustration, but it was not good lordship: it placed Richard Barre and his companions, who owed their posts to Henry II, in an impossible position. Henry II’s own demands for absolute and unreserved allegiance from Becket’s clerks after the archbishop’s fall from grace in 1164 had created a similar crisis of loyalty.110 Unsurprisingly, Richard Barre and his colleagues refused such an oath, whereupon the Young King dismissed them, and any others who would not swear, and they returned to Henry II’s service.111
For these officials, placement in the household of the man who would soon himself be ruler of the Angevin empire had been a major opportunity, holding out the prospect of future promotion and influence. Now such hopes of preferment had been cut short by the rift betwee
n father and son. Conscious of this and realizing that Barre’s support for his old master had cost him the favour of the Young King, Henry II rewarded him with the archdeaconry of Lisieux. The appointment of Walter of Coutances as archdeacon of Oxford was probably a similar compensation.112 By contrast Solomon the serjeant, who had been transferred to young Henry’s household from that of his uncle William FitzEmpress, joined the Young King in rebellion, as did Eudo and William FitzErneis, and Robert de Buissum, all of whom had attested Earl William’s charters.113
Having failed to prevent his son’s flight to France, Henry II’s immediate reaction had been to ensure that the defences of Gisors, the strategic key to the Vexin, were in good order. He then toured the duchy’s other frontier defences, strengthening and revictualling his castles.114 The open and immediate defection of a number of important Norman lords to the Young King was a troubling signal of deep disaffection in the duchy, and Henry II knew that an attack by Louis on Normandy could only be a matter of time. In an adroit move, Henry entrusted the defence of Gisors to Earl Richard de Clare, known as ‘Strongbow’, whose successes in Ireland had prompted the royal expedition of 1171; he thereby placed experienced marcher warriors in this crucial frontier fortress, while concomitantly removing the opportunity for these men to foment rebellion in Ireland to cast off Henry II’s newly consolidated lordship there.115 Henry also was under no illusion about the probable impact of the actions of his eldest son on the stability of his other territories: he informed his castellans in Anjou, Brittany, Aquitaine and England of the situation, ordering them to strengthen their castles and be on their guard. No records survive for these measures on the continent, but in England the Pipe Rolls record expenditure on at least forty-four castles across the kingdom.116
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