Queen of the Conqueror

by Tracy Joanne Borman

  Matilda was now faced with a hostile and dangerous neighbor on her duchy’s southwestern border. Worse was to come. Later in 1069, two of William’s bitterest rivals, the king of France and the duke of Brittany, joined forces and launched an attack on Normandy. The duchess sent an urgent request to her husband for military assistance: evidently the troops that she had at her disposal in Normandy had been depleted by the constant need for reinforcements in England. Alarmed, William immediately dispatched the son of his trusted official William fitzOsbern to defend her—presumably with a retinue of men.

  Matilda had barely had time to recover from this when word reached her of yet another crisis. This time it was not in Normandy, but her native land of Flanders. On July 16, 1070, Matilda’s brother, Count Baldwin VI, died unexpectedly, leaving his son Arnulf as heir. Because Arnulf was then only about fifteen years old, his mother, Richildis, the countess of Mons and Hainault, was appointed regent. As was so often the case, the accession of a minor sparked unrest. This time it was the nominated heir’s own uncle who rebelled.

  Robert the Frisian, as he was known, was Matilda’s brother, and the younger of the two recorded sons born to Baldwin V and Adela. Like his sister’s, his marriage had been arranged for political gain.3 His bride was Gertrude, the countess of Frisia, whose homeland bordered Flanders on the northern side. Residing with her in Frisia, Robert had evidently maintained a close interest in his native land, for he immediately seized the initiative upon his brother’s early death and began rallying support for his own claim to the throne. He found a willing ally in the form of Henry III, the German emperor, who had long been an adversary of the Norman dynasty and was therefore happy to help cause trouble in Matilda’s homeland.4

  It is interesting to note that one of the chief chroniclers of the age blamed the unrest not upon Robert the Frisian’s overweening ambition but upon the failings of the Flanders regent, Arnulf’s mother, Richildis. According to Malmesbury, “she, with a woman’s ambition, was forming plans beyond her sex,” and had levied an onerous new tax upon her people that incited them to revolt. Robert was merely answering their calls for assistance rather than attempting to seize power for himself.5 This account owes more to the misogyny of the author than the truth of what occurred, and it reflects the widespread prejudice against female rule that Matilda was forced to overcome. The fact that there were no disparaging remarks about her own regency suggests that she demonstrated exceptional strength and ability.

  Matilda was greatly distressed when she heard of the turmoil caused by her brother’s treachery and immediately wrote to her husband asking for military assistance. William seemed rather reluctant to intervene in what he viewed as a family dispute, but out of respect for his wife, this time he dispatched William fitzOsbern himself6—“the bravest of the Normans”—with a small force (according to one account, just ten Norman knights) to assist the young Count Arnulf.7 Interestingly, Jumièges—not usually generous in his praise of Matilda—accords her a greater role in the crisis than any of the other sources. He claims that it was she, not William, who sent fitzOsbern to Flanders, and that he was accompanied by “a large army.”8 Such power and independence were unmatched by any other consort’s across western Europe.

  William’s reluctance may have been due in part to the fact that the situation in England was once more volatile and he could ill afford the loss of men and munitions. The latest threat of rebellion came from Edwin of Mercia, who together with his brother Morcar had posed a constant danger to William’s regime ever since his victory at Hastings. Edwin had been betrothed to William’s eldest daughter in 1067, but the king refused to set a date for the wedding and four years later he reneged on the deal altogether. Orderic blamed the king’s change of mind on his “listening to the dishonest counsels of his envious and greedy Norman followers,” after which he “withheld the maiden from the noble youth.”9 During the rebellion, which took place in 1071, Edwin was treacherously killed by his own men. They subsequently made their way to court and presented the earl’s severed head to William, thinking it would please the king. But the latter was so horrified upon seeing the grisly spectacle that he was moved to tears. Adeliza was said to be devastated upon hearing that yet another engagement had come to nothing. She eschewed all further talk of marriage and entered a nunnery. It is to be hoped that she was not driven to do so by witnessing the sight that had so shocked her battle-worn father.10

  Meanwhile, William fitzOsbern had journeyed to Flanders “gaily as if to a tournament.”11 He apparently did not take the crisis there as seriously as Matilda did. But help came from another quarter, too. There is little record of Matilda’s mother, Adela, since she attended her daughter’s wedding at Eu around 1050 and spent some time in the Norman court during her grandson Robert’s infancy. If the two women had met or corresponded since then, the evidence has been lost. But this does not necessarily mean that they had not been in contact: the letters of medieval women—even those of high standing—were often lost or destroyed, being considered of no importance next to the deeds of their male counterparts. Adela certainly shared her daughter’s horror at the events that were unfolding in Flanders. Even though Robert the Frisian was her son, she abhorred his attempts to overturn the rightful succession and was determined to stop him. Calling upon her family connections, she urged King Philip of France to intervene.

  The young French king seemed to hold his aunt in some esteem, for he consented to her request and duly sent troops to Arnulf’s aid. However, this was not enough to counter a surprise attack by Robert’s forces at Cassel on February 22, 1071. Among the Frisian’s troops was Gerbod, the earl of Chester, the man inaccurately described as a son of Matilda by her alleged first marriage. Evidently he considered his loyalty to Robert greater than that to either Arnulf or King William. It was he who struck the killer blow in an encounter with the young Arnulf. William fitzOsbern was also slain in the battle. Matilda’s brother won the day and seized control of the principality.

  With his forces tied up in England, William had no choice but to accept Robert as the count of Flanders. The French king, too, now washed his hands of the affair. Matilda herself was deeply affected by these recent events, and she would have drawn scant comfort from the fact that her mother had apparently managed to gain a foothold in Robert’s court. According to Orderic Vitalis, she was “overwhelmed with grief at … the cruelty of her brother, who had brought about the ruin of another brother, a dear nephew, and many friends.”12 Although Robert had made a concession by granting their younger nephew, Baldwin, the territory of Hainault, which had been annexed to Flanders upon the accession of Baldwin VI and Richildis, this did little to offset her bitterness at the treachery of his actions.

  As we know, Matilda had always been proud of her heritage, but her brother’s usurpation had put a stain on the family name. Moreover, it had destroyed the alliance between Flanders and Normandy. Orderic Vitalis describes the “mutual and lasting hostility” that “arose between the Normans and Flemings, partly because of the slaying of the queen’s brother [nephew] and other kinsfolk, but chiefly because of the fate of Earl William fitzOsbern.”13 Thus when Richildis and her surviving son, Baldwin, withdrew to Hainault and attempted to drum up support for recapturing Flanders, William and Matilda both supported their quest.

  For his part, Robert the Frisian was openly hostile to Normandy, and as count, he would prove a thorn in William’s side for many years to come. He married his daughter Adela to King Cnut of Denmark, one of William’s most powerful opponents, and would later assist him in an attempted invasion of England.14 In the meantime, he made Flanders a refuge for English opponents of William’s regime. They included Edgar the Aetheling, who arrived there in 1072. Robert had also formed a dangerous alliance with William’s archenemies closer to home. Principal among these was King Philip of France, whose friendship was soon “easily won.”15 To seal their newfound alliance, Philip married Robert’s stepdaughter, Bertha of Holland. Matilda’s brother
further strengthened his connections with Normandy’s hostile neighbors by courting the goodwill of Geoffrey Martel, the count of Anjou, and Conan, the duke of Brittany. According to Orderic Vitalis, the three men “hatched many plots” against William, “but though they hoped for great gain and laid cunning traps they never secured what they desired.”16

  Although the end result was not as she might have wished, the fact that Matilda had been so determined to use her position as regent of Normandy to try to resolve the political turmoil in her native Flanders hints at a strong sense of justice, as well as tenacity and resourcefulness. These were qualities that would increasingly come to the fore during the years that followed. Moreover, during the next few years, Matilda would consistently urge her husband to go on the offensive against her usurper brother, which is perhaps testament to another of her defining qualities: ambition. As Robert’s sister—and possibly the oldest of all Baldwin V’s children—she had a strong claim to the principality, and she was surely keen to govern Flanders herself. Her esteemed position as duchess of Normandy and queen of England served to strengthen this claim still further. But there was little she could do without her husband’s military might. No matter how much William might have wished to satisfy his wife’s wishes, his forces were fully engaged in England and Normandy, and he rightly judged that an attempt upon Flanders would overstretch his resources.

  However, Matilda’s ambitious side would become increasingly apparent in the future, and she would grow ever more independent from her husband as her confidence in her own abilities grew. This latter development would have devastating consequences for both her marriage and the Norman dynasty as a whole.

  In another attempt to bolster her husband’s public image, Matilda returned to England in the spring of 1072 and joined in the celebrations for Easter at the royal court in Winchester. An ecclesiastical council was held there in April—an indication that the royal couple were using it as a base from which to conduct government business. By Whitsun, Matilda had moved to Windsor, which suggests that she was keen to maintain a high profile. However, her tour came to an abrupt end a short while later, when the situation in England again appeared volatile due to a threatened invasion from the Scottish king. She therefore returned to Normandy and was once more appointed coregent with her son Robert—although it was again clear that she held the reins of power.

  It did not take William long to neutralize the Scottish threat, using his accustomed strategy of meeting aggression with aggression in order to bring his enemy to terms. He and Malcolm agreed to a truce in the autumn of 1072. “At last, for a while, the storm of wars and rebellions dying out, he [William] now powerfully holds the reins of the entire English monarchy and even more prosperously reigns in glory.”1 Jumièges may have been overstating the case, but the situation in England did appear more settled. After 1072, the frequency of William’s journeys home increased dramatically. From that time until his death, he spent around 130 of 170 months in Normandy, which effectively made him an absentee ruler in England.2 Although there were genuine calls upon his attention in Normandy, such as the revolt of Maine, it was clear that he had a strong preference for his native land.

  But though William was often absent from England during the 1070s, it remained vital that he and Matilda continue to reinforce their authority there. One of the most powerful expressions of this authority was the court, and Matilda in particular was keen to ensure that they made the most of their increasingly infrequent visits by living in as magnificent a style as possible. Thus her apparently domestic duties as superintendent of feasts, pageants, and the other great gatherings of court were in fact loaded with significance and vital authority.

  Nowhere was the magnificence of William and Matilda’s court more blatant than at the great “crown-wearings” that were held at regular intervals throughout their reign.3 Although there are some references to Edward the Confessor wearing his crown at certain court festivals, the crown-wearings as a distinct court gathering seem to have been a Norman invention, and they soon became integral to William and Matilda’s exercise of majesty. There is no record of the order of ceremony that was followed at these occasions, but they probably involved an appearance by the royal couple in front of their ordinary subjects as they processed from the palace to the church. They usually took place at Winchester at Easter, Windsor or Westminster at Whitsun, and Gloucester at Christmas.4 Again, full of pomp and ceremony, they were designed to emphasize William and Matilda’s legitimacy as king and queen of England.

  The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle hints at a sense of the scale and grandeur of the crown-wearings. “All the great men of England were assembled about him: archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, thanes, and knights.”5 Many of these men would bring a host of attendants of their own, thus swelling the numbers further. There would also often be foreign envoys and visitors, who would be accorded a lavish reception so that they might report back on the splendor of the English king and his court. The witness lists of the charters that were granted during these occasions give a sense of both the number and quality of the attendees. For example, at the crown-wearing held in Winchester at Easter 1069, a charter for the abbey of St.-Denis was signed by William, Matilda, one of their sons, William’s two half-brothers, his right-hand man, William fitzOsbern, and a plethora of archbishops, bishops, and other high-ranking churchmen.6

  In such charters, Matilda is almost always styled “Regina,” and occasionally she is given the more elaborate title of regina Anglorum et comitissa Normannorum et Cenomannorum (queen of England and countess of Normandy and Maine).7 Her illustrious ancestry is also reinforced in the numerous bequests made by the great nobles of England, which refer to prayers and gifts for the souls of the whole royal family.8 Matilda’s inclusion in such bequests, along with that of her sons, suggests that only as head of his dynasty was William viewed as the rightful king: on his own, without Matilda’s validating presence, he was little more than a bastard usurper. Combining the pageantry and splendor of the crown-wearings with the practical business of granting titles and estates gave out a clear message: the court was the center of power, patronage, and favor, a symbol of the entire kingdom.

  Although great occasions such as crown-wearings swelled the ranks of those paying attendance upon the royal couple, even on ordinary days their court would have been filled with hundreds of noblemen, ecclesiastics, military men, and visitors. Many of these formed part of William and Matilda’s permanent staff. It was considered essential to royal dignity that a large body of servants be maintained. “A worldly king has many thegns and stewards,” observed the tenth-century writer Aelfric. “He cannot be glorious unless he has the dignity which befits him and many serving men who wait on him in obedience.”9

  The personnel of the royal household reflected the military and administrative function of the court. It was more sophisticated than the ducal household back in Normandy, and had a long-established structure and officials. The king and queen had their own chapel, which held services, housed the royal relics, and fulfilled some of the couple’s secretarial needs. Their household also contained the royal treasure, which was largely the responsibility of the chamberlain. In theory, this traveled with the court wherever it went, but by the eleventh century, the palace at Winchester served as almost a permanent treasury. The contemporary records also include references to an array of domestics—from cooks and washerwomen to grooms, carpenters, smiths, falconers, swineherds, dog handlers, clerks, and jesters.

  Evidence from Domesday Book suggests that the queen had a household of her own that mirrored the structure and functions of the larger one. It could exist either as a separate entity or as part of the overall household. The officials referred to in Domesday Book are for the most part the same as those in the main royal household, with the exception of the queen’s personal attendants. They include a chaplain, chamberlain, butler, cooks, goldsmiths, hunters, stewards, and geld collectors.10 Matilda’s own household included a host of male and female s
ervants to meet her every need. Many of them were drawn from high-ranking families in each country, as was customary. It is difficult to ascertain the precise number of men and women who served Matilda, but it is likely to have been in the region of seventy to eighty. This includes both those who served her at court and those who held land for her or worked on her estates. Although little is known of her household in Normandy, this was probably considerably smaller, particularly as the bulk of her landed estates were in England.

  The servants of Matilda who are listed in Domesday Book include Humphrey the chamberlain, who was evidently one of the queen’s most loyal attendants, because he received a great deal of land in recognition of his royal service. There is also Albold the cook, who held lands in Mapledurham, Hampshire, which had formerly been held by his mistress. It is possible that she bequeathed these to him prior to her death. A reeve named Goscelin farmed some of Matilda’s manors in Devon and held land from her in Halberton, near Tiverton. Wulfweard White is listed as another official, and Bernard, the bishop of St. Davids, was her chaplain.11

  Matilda’s presence seemed to have a civilizing influence upon court life when she was in England. As in Normandy, she welcomed men of letters to court, adding to its luster. They included the celebrated poet Godfrey of Winchester. The queen made such an impression upon him when they met that he was inspired to write about her in his epic work, Epigrammata Historica.12