Chapter 30

How he avenged the murder of Charles, count of Flanders

I intend to relate his finest exploit[1], the noblest deed he performed from his youth to his life’s end. Although it ought to be spoken of at length, I shall recount it briefly, concentrating on what he did rather than how he did it, in order to avoid boring my readers.[2]

The famous and very powerful count Charles, son of the king of Denmark and King Louis’s aunt, succeeded by hereditary right the brave count Baldwin, son of Robert of Jerusalem, and ruled the very populous land of Flanders both forcefully and diligently, proving himself an illustrious defender of God's church, a lavish almsgiver and a notable protector of justice[3]. Discharging the duty of his honour, he sought several times legitimately to bring to the judgement of his court certain powerful men of low birth who had risen through their wealth and were arrogantly trying to free their family from his lordship although they were of servile origin.[4] They were the provost of Bruges and his relations[5], notorious criminals puffed out with pride who trapped the count most cruelly.[6]

One day Charles came to Bruges and went early in the morning into God’s church[7]. He was kneeling on the floor in prayer, holding a prayer book in his hands, when suddenly a certain Burchard[8], the provost’s nephew, a savage fellow, arrived with other members of that wickedest of families and other accomplices in his detestable crime. As Charles was praying and talking with God, Burchard quietly slipped behind him, unsheathed his sword and gently touched the neck of the prostrate count, so that when the count raised it a little he would make a better target for the unexpected sword, then with one blow he impiously killed the pious man, and thus the serf beheaded his lord. 

His accomplices in this horrifying murder who were standing around thirsting for his blood, like dogs feasting on abandoned corpses, took pleasure in hacking the innocent man to pieces, particularly rejoicing that they had been able to accomplish the evil deed they had conceived and the wickedness to which they had given birth[9]. As if blinded by their own malice, they revelled in evil and massacred all the men of the castle and nobler barons of the count they could find when they were unprepared and unshriven, either in the church or outside in the castle, putting them to the sword in the most wretched way. However, we are convinced that it is good for these unfortunates to have been killed in such circumstances because of their fidelity to their lord and to have met their deaths with the prayers of the church, for as it is written: ‘When I shall find you, I will judge you.’[10]

The assassins buried the count in the church itself, fearing that if he were brought out for mourning and burial the people who were devoted to him both for his glorious life and for his more glorious death would be aroused to seek vengeance. Then they turned the church into a brigands’ cave, fortified both it and the count’s house which was next to it, procured whatever food they could and decided with the utmost arrogance to protect themselves there and thus to take over the land. 

The Flemish barons who had not consented to this were shocked by so great and depraved a crime[11]. They wept as they attended the count’s obsequies in order to avoid being branded as traitors, and reported it to the lord king Louis, and indeed to everyone, for the news swept across the world. Love of justice and affection for his cousin inspired war against the English king and Count Theobald[12]. So he crossed courageously into Flanders[13], intent on using all his resources to punish the wickedest of men most cruelly. He established as count of Flanders William of Normandy[14], son of Duke Robert of Jerusalem, who had a claim through ties of blood. Without fear either for the barbarity of the land or for the loathsome family which had engaged in treason, he went down to Bruges, and blockaded the traitors securely in the church and the tower, preventing them from obtaining any food other than what they had, which by divine assistance now disgusted them because it was unfit for use. For a while he wore them down by hunger, disease and the sword; then they abandoned the church the church and kept only the tower, which also guarded them. 

Now they despaired of life, and their lyre was turned to mourning and their organ into the voice of those that weep[15]; the most wicked Burchard left with the agreement of his companions, hoping to flee the land but found himself unable to do so, though only his own wickedness prevented him. On his return to the castle of one of his intimate friends he was seized by the king’s command and suffered exquisite torture in death. Tied to the upper part of a high wheel, exposed naked to the greediness of crows and other birds of prey, his eyes torn out and his whole face lacerated, pierced by a thousand blows from arrows, lances and spears, he perished miserably and his body was thrown into a sewer[16]. 

Bertold, the brains behind the plot, also decided to flee; but when he found he was able to wander around without restriction, he returned through sheer pride; for he asked himself, ‘Who am I and what have I done?’ So he was captured by his own men, handed over to the king’s judgement and condemned to a well-merited and wretched death. They hanged him from a gibbet with a dog and as the dog was struck it took its anger out on Bertold, chewed his whole face and, horrible to relate, covered him with excrement; so, more miserable than the most miserable of men, he ended his wretched life in perpetual death.[17]

The men the king had besieged in the tower were forced by many hardships to surrender. In front of their relations Louis had them thrown out one by one from the top of the tower to crush their skulls.[18] One of them called Isaac had been tonsured in a monastery to avoid death.[19] Louis ordered him to be defrocked and hanged on a gibbet. Thus victorious at Bruges, the king rapidly led his army to Ypres, an excellent castle, to take vengeance on William the Bastard, who had fomented the treason.[20] He sent messengers to the people of Bruges and brought them around to his side by threats and flattery. Then as William barred his way with three hundred knights, half the royal army rushed against him and the other half went off at an angle and boldly occupied the castle by way of its other gate. The king kept it, William lost all claim to Flanders, and was banished. Because he had aspired to gain Flanders through treachery, it was right that he should gain nothing whatever in Flanders. 

Flanders was washed clean and almost re-baptised by these different kinds of revenge and the great torrent of blood. So having installed William the Norman as count, the king returned to France[21], victorious by God’s help.[22]

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[1] Suger appears to be exact in not only his discussion of the murder of Charles the Good but on many points of detail. The murder of Charles on consecrated ground was particularly heinous and the murder of a nobleman by someone of lower social status furnishes Suger with another reminder of the dangers posed by such people when they rise in status.

[2] Galbert de Bruges Histoire du meurtre de Charles le Bon, comte de Flandre, edited by Henri Pirenne, Paris 1891 and Le meurtre de Charles le Bon, edited by J. Gengoux, Angers, 1978 are far more detailed accounts of the events of 1127-1128 and can be compared with Suger. Ross, J.B., (ed.), The Murder of Charles the Good, Count of Flanders, by Galbert of Bruges, New York, 1959 is a useful translation. Ganshof, F.-L., ‘Le roi de France en Flandre en 1127 et 1128’, Revue historique de droit français et étranger, 4e série, vol. xxvii, (1949), pp. 204-228 is essential for Louis VI’s role. Dhondt, J., ‘Les 'solidarités' médiévales. Une société en transition: La Flandre en 1127-1128’, Annales, Economies, Sociétés, Civilisations, vol. xii, (1957), pp. 529-560 with an English version: ‘Medieval Solidarities: Flemish Society in Transition, 1127-28’, in Cheyette, F.L., (ed.), Lordship and Community in Medieval Europe, New York, 1968 pp. 268-296 provide valuable context. Murray, A.V., ‘Voices of Flanders: Orality and Constructed Orality in the Chronicle of Galbert of Bruges’, Handelingen der Maatschappij voor Geschiedenis en Oudheidkunde te Gent, nieuwe reeks, vol. xlvii, (1994), pp. 103-119 and Nicholas, K.S., ‘When Feudal Ideals Failed: Conflicts between Lords and Vassals in the Low Countries, 1127-1296’, in Purdon, L.O. and Vitto, C.L., (eds.), The Rusted Hauberk: Feudal Ideals of Order and their Decline, Gainesville, 1994, pp. 201-226 look at Galbert in detail.

[3] In 1086, St. Knut II, King of Denmark and father of Charles the Good, was murdered. Charles who was only three years old, was taken by his mother Adela (1065-1111) to the court of Robert I, Count of Flanders (born 1030-died 1093), his maternal grandfather. When he grew up, he became a knight and accompanied his uncle Robert II, count of Flanders (born 1065, count 1093-1111) in a crusade to the Holy Land where he distinguished himself; on their return, Charles also fought against the English with his uncle. On Robert’s death in 1111, his son Baldwin VII succeeded him and designated Charles as the heir. At the same time, he arranged for Charles’ marriage to Margaret, daughter of the Count of Clermont. During Baldwin’s rule, Charles was closely associated with him, and the people came to have a high regard for his wise and beneficent ways as well as his personal holiness. At Baldwin’s death, in 1119, the people made his cousin their ruler.  Charles ruled his people with wisdom, diligence, and compassion; he made sure that times of truce were respected and fought against those who hoarded food and the sold it at inflated prices to the people especially by releasing grain from his own storehouses during the severe famine that hit Flanders in 1124-1125.

[4] The crisis that led to Charles’ murder came from his desire to ascertain what belonged to him in human and material resources. The increasing use of the courts to settle dispute was an important characteristic of Charles’ reign and he noticed that in important cases free men refused to answer suits from the unfree or serf who were suing in the public courts. Galbert de Bruges said that Charles, despite being in Flanders for forty years was surprised that the Erembald family were serfs and he decided to disgrace them. Their status appears to have been an open secret among the leading lords in Flanders and none were particularly concerned about it until Charles raised the issue. Charles summoned his councillors, many of whom were related to the provost, which means that there were serfs in the council and that the count knew this. While the ‘old guard’ whom the count wished to destroy were of servile origin, some of the officials of the central court were free ‘new men’ who incited Charles against the Erembalds. The assassination was an attempt to forestall the count.

[5] The two leading members of the Erembald family were: Bertold or Bertulf was appointed provost of St.-Donatian of Bruges in 1091 and had been chancellor of the count and chief financial official of the count’s lands and his brother, Didier (Desiderius) Hacket castellan of Bruges before 1115.

[6] Ibid, Molinier, Auguste, (ed.), Vie de Louis le Gros par Suger, p. 111 n° 2 suggests that Louis VI may have known about the conspirators’ plans and somewhat imprecisely that Charles the Good had been allied to England ‘for several years’. There are several problems with this argument given Charles’ involvement with Louis VI in his campaigns against Henry V in 1124 and in the Auvergne in 1126.

[7] The murder took place on 2^nd March 1127 in the church of St. Donatian which was linked to the count’s house by a gallery.

[8] Formold, surnamed Burchard was the son of the Bertold’s brother.

[9] Comparison can be made with Psalms, vii, 15: ‘He made a pit and digged it and is fallen into the ditch which he made’.

[10] This seems to draw on a lost Apocalypse.

[11] The Erembalds expected the other Flemish barons who shared their own problematic ancestry to rise in support of their action, but they were badly mistaken. The attitude of the people of Bruges was ambiguous. In addition to the castellan, Bruges had a town government that could speak for the citizenry; for while their rulers allied with Gervase of Praat, a knight who led resistance to the assassins, many of the citizens seemed to favour the Erembalds whom they considered their own lords’. The Erembalds were besieged in the count’s castle in Bruges that was stormed on 19^th April. Several escaped but to a man they were hunted down and killed.

[12] Suger uses an ambiguous phrase here that could either mean that Louis did not let a war detain him or that there was no war to detain him. He may wish to have implied to former but the latter was true. Neither Henry I nor Count Theobald was at war with Louis VI at this time.

[13] When Louis first heard of the murder, he went to Arras remaining there from 9^th March until the end of the month. He arrived in Bruges on Tuesday 5^th April and found the siege well advanced. Suger provides no explanation for Louis’ delay in moving into Flanders but perhaps he did not wish to get dragged into the internal affairs of Flanders until the eventual outcome was clear and certainly he consulted his advisers on the viability of William Clito as a desirable successor. Herman of Tournai provides additional detail on why Louis stayed so long in Arras: see Appendix II.

[14] Charles the Good died childless and there was need for the succession to be established. Suger’s account not surprisingly emphasised the importance of Louis but Galbert indicated that there was both a designation by Louis and an election ‘by all his barons and those of our land’: see Ganshof, F.L., ‘Le roi de France en Flandre en 1127 et 1128’, Revue historique de droit français et étranger, 4^th series, vol. xxvii, (1949), pp. 204-228. According to Herman of Tournai, the office of count was given by Louis to William Clito. The selection of William was an anti-English act and William had previously been used by Louis on earlier occasions against Henry (chapter 26). William Clito was born at Rouen in 1101, the son of Robert Curthose. His paternal grandmother Matilda was the sister of the Robert I, count of Flanders who was the maternal grandfather of Charles the Good. He was briefly count of Flanders from 1127 until his death at St Omer on 27^th July 1128 from a wound he received at the siege of Alost five days earlier. He was married first to Sybille, daughter of Fulk V of Anjou in 1123 when she was eleven. He later married Joan, about whom nothing is known. There were no children. William Clito’s claim to Flanders was disputed by Thierry of Alsace who succeeded as count in 1128 and ruled until 1168. His mother Gertrude (1070-1117) was also a daughter of Robert I of Flanders.

[15] Job xxx, 31

[16] Taken out the outskirts of Lille, Burchard was executed in the last days of April.

[17] Bertold was arrested on 11^th April at Ypres on the orders of his accomplice William of Ypres, no friend of Louis and immediately executed. Suger’s view that he submitted to the judgement of Louis is therefore suspect.

[18] There were twenty-eight. They surrendered on 19^th April and held in the prison in the count’s house. It was from the tower of this house that they were hurled to their deaths on 4^th May.

[19] Before the capture of the others, Isaac, son of Didier Hacket had taken refuge at Saint-Jean de Therouanne. Captured on the night of 20^th March, he was hanged on 23^rd March, according to Galbert de Bruges on the orders of William of Ypres.

[20] William of Ypres was the illegitimate son of Philip of Loo, second son of count Robert le Frison. He was cousin to both Charles the Good and Baldwin VII but his illegitimacy prevented him becoming count despite having some support from Henry I of England. In 1119, on Baldwin VII’s death his mother Clementia had supported the candidacy of William of Ypres, who though illegitimate was the last descendant in the male line of Robert the Frison. The battle at Ypres took place on 26^th April.

[21] Louis VI left Bruges on 6^th May 1127 to return to France.

[22] I intend to add contrasting accounts to Suger’s after the completion of the Vita.

Chapter 29

How he restrained the count of Auvergne from attacking the bishop of Clermont

At about the same time, the bishop of Clermont in the Auvergne[1], a man of upright character and a distinguished defender of his church, was struck down and battered by the pride of the Auvergnats, both a modern and an ancient phenomenon, for it was said of them, ‘The men of Auvergne dare to claim themselves as brothers to the Latins.’[2] He fled to the king and explained the lamentable plight of his church, that the count of Auvergne[3] had occupied the city and, with the complicity of the dean, had tyrannically fortified the cathedral of Notre Dame. He threw himself at the king’s feet, thought the king tried to prevent him, and entreated him with supplications to free the enslaved church and to restrain this furious tyranny with the sword of the king’s majesty. 

Accustomed as he was to giving very prompt assistance to churches, Louis willingly took up the cause of God, despite the great expense involved. Because he could not reform the tyrant by words or letters under the royal seal, he hastened to do it by deed, collected his military forces and led a large French army against recalcitrant Auvergne.[4] On his arrival at Bourges[5] he met various great men of the kingdom, all owing service to the crown[6], and intent on inflicting vengeance on the Auvergnats for the injury done to the church and the King: Fulk, the bellicose count of Anjou, Conan, the very powerful count of Brittany, the noble count of Nevers and many others, making up a substantial force.[7] They ravaged the enemy territory and, as they approached the city of Clermont, the Auvergnats abandoned their castles perched high on the mountain tops and came into the city for protection, because it was very well fortified. 

The French mocked their naivety, and on reflection decided to postpone their march to the city, and thus forced them either to abandon Clermont for fear of losing their castles, or to stay there and consume their provisions. The French diverted to an excellent castle at Le Pont on the river Allier.[8] They pitched their tents round about, ravaged both the plain and the mountain sides, and as they seized the excellently fortified summits of the mountains, seeming in their boldness like giants reaching for the sky, they acquired booty in superfluity, not only of flocks but also of shepherds. They brought up siege engines to the keep of the castle, and by the force of millstones and a rain of arrows compelled them to surrender after much slaughter. When the news reached those who were holding the city, they were struck by fear, and in the expectation that a similar or worse fate would happen to them, they prepared to take flight, came out of the city and left it to the king’s pleasure. The king, victorious in everything, restored the church to God, the towers to the clergy and the city to the bishop, then made peace between them and the count, guaranteeing the treaty with oaths and many hostages.[9]

But less than five years later, the peace was broken by the light-hearted treachery of the counts of Auvergne. Further disaster struck the bishop and his church, the bishop again made his complaint to the king.[10] Scorning to plead exhaustion from his previous futile mission, Louis collected an army even larger than the last one and went back into Auvergne. His body was already heavy, weighed down by a mass of flesh.[11] Any other man be he never so poor, subjected to such a dangerous corpulence, neither would not have ridden. But despite his many friends’ objections, he was filled with marvellous courage and cheerfully bore the summer heats of June and August, which even young men hate, laughing at those who could not bear them. But when crossing the marshes on narrow paths, he often had to let himself be carried on the strong arms of his soldiers. On this expedition there were present Charles, the very powerful count of Flanders, Fulk, count of Anjou, the count of Brittany, an army from Normandy in tribute from the English king Henry[12], and enough barons and magnates of the kingdom to have conquered even Spain.

Crossing by the dangerous entry into Auvergne for there were castles that barred the way, he came to Clermont. When he turned his army against the weak castle of Montferrand[13] opposite the town, the knights who were charged with its defence were so frightened by the splendid French army so unlike their own, and so astonished at the splendour of their hauberks and helmets gleaming in the sun, that they stopped short at the mere sight, abandoned the outer defences and fled, just in time for them, into the keep and its outer bastion[14]. But when the houses in the abandoned area had been set on fire, the flames reduced to cinders everything except the keep and its defence. That day the great heat from the sudden destruction of the town obliged us to pitch our tents outside; but the next day, as the flames died down, we took them inside. 

Early that morning the king had achieved something which filled us with delight though it saddened our enemies. Because our tents were pitched very close to one side of the tower, throughout the whole night they endlessly harassed us with many attacks and a constant stream of arrows and spears so bad that, despite the protection afforded by armed men posted between us and them, we had to shelter under our shields. The king ordered the excellent knight and outstanding baron Amaury de Montfort to set men in ambush at an angle to the bastion, so that they could not return to it unharmed. Skilled in such matters, Amaury and his men armed themselves in their tents and then, with all the speed of their horses they charged at an angle against the enemy, while our men pinned them down, and took some of them by surprise; these they at once sent to the king. When they pleaded to be allowed to ransom themselves at high sums, the king ordered that each should lose a hand and that thus mutilated they should be sent back to their allies within, each carrying his fist in his other fist.

After this, terrified by this treatment, the others left us in peace. While the siege machines and engines which had been built remained in place, the whole of Auvergne lay at the will and discretion of the army. Then Duke William of Aquitaine[15] arrived at the head of a large force of Aquitanians. From the mountains where he had pitched camp he saw the French forces gleaming on the plain, was amazed by the great size of the army, in his impotence he regretted his intention to fight it, and sent messengers of peace to the king. Then he came himself, to talk with Louis as his lord. His oration ran thus: ‘Your duke of Aquitaine, my lord king, salutes you many times and wishes you all honour. Royal majesty in its eminence ought not to disdain to receive the duke of Aquitaine’s service, not to preserve his rights; for if justice requires the service of vassals, it also requires that lords be just. Because the count of Auvergne holds Auvergne from me, as I hold it from you, if he commits a crime I have the duty of making him appear at your court on your command. I have never prevented him from doing this. Indeed now I offer to make him appear, and humbly beg you to accept the offer. To remove from your highness any cause to doubt me, I can give many suitable hostages. If the barons of the kingdom judge thus, so let it be; if they judge otherwise, let it be as they judge.’[16] When the king had deliberated with the barons, at the dictate of justice he accepted fidelity, the oath and a sufficiency of hostages, and restored peace to the countryside and to the churches. Then he named a day to settle the affair at Orleans in the presence of the duke of Aquitaine, a condition they had thus far refused and collecting together his army with honour, he returned as victor to France. 

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[1] Aimeri was bishop of Clermont from 1111 to 1150. He had been abbot of La Chaise-Dieu.

[2] Lucan, De bello civili, I, 427

[3] William VI, count of Auvergne 1096-1136. He was born c.1069 and married Emma de Hauteville, daughter of Roger I, count of Sicily.

[4] This expedition against William VI of the Auvergne is treated out of chronological order as it occurred in 1122: ibid, Luchaire, Louis VI le Gros, Annales de son vie et de son règne, n° 318. It took Louis far from Paris, about 230 miles south to Clermont-Ferrand.

[5] He arrived at Bourges a little before 3^rd August 1122: ibid, Luchaire, Louis VI le Gros, Annales de son vie et de son règne, n° 317.

[6] Actually ‘debtors of the king’.

[7] The expedition into the Auvergne included three counts: Fulk of Anjou, Conan of Brittany (count since 1112 and mentioned for the first time as helping Louis) and William of Nevers. All three were to join the host at Reims in 1124. Suger uses the expression ‘regni debitores’ for them and other members of the force implying some sort of feudal obligation.

[8] Pont-du-Chateau, Puy-de-Dome is eight miles east of Clermont-Ferrand and is the southernmost point that Suger describes Louis as having gone.

[9] The expedition to the south in 1122 came after the unsatisfactory conclusion of his most recent problems with Henry I (chapter 26). Louis had some justification to be pleased with this result and a document in 1122 refers to him in Paris with his magnates triumphant over his enemies and in possession of a glorious peace.

[10] The second expedition probably occurred in the summer of 1126 and certainly before 2^nd March 1127 when the count of Flanders who accompanied Louis was killed. If the word ‘lustrum’ is used in its precise sense of a period of five years (though it can also have the sense of ‘four years’), dating the expedition to 1126 accords well with that of 1122 for Louis’ first expedition to the south.

[11] This is the first clear reference to Louis’ weight: see chapters 31 and 33 for additional ones.

[12] This was the first and only time that Henry I sent troops to serve on a French royal campaign and relations between the two monarchs was more amicable than it had been for years. The main reason for this was that Henry I had to make his mind up about the succession, something he had delayed doing since the death of William Adelin in the White Ship in late 1120. Louis VI had long been William Clito’s most powerful supporter and, as William was a possible successor Louis did not want to make any moves against the Anglo-Norman state while the issue remained unresolved. The news that Henry had decided in favour of his daughter Matilda and that oaths were sworn to her in 1^st January 1127 led to an immediate reaction from Louis. By the end of January, Louis had married his wife’s half-sister to Clito and given him a lordship in the French Vexin. This is discussed fully in Hollister, C. Warren, ‘The Anglo-Norman Succession Debate of 1126: Prelude to Stephen’s Anarchy’, Journal of Medieval History, vol. i, (1975), pp. 19-36, reprinted in ibid, Monarchy, Magnates and Institutions in the Anglo-Norman World, pp. 145-170.

[13] The castle of Montferrand is today in the north-east of the town of Clermond-Ferrand. It was built at the end of the tenth century and dominated the area.

[14] In French, the outer bastion is called ‘la chemise du donjon’.

[15] William X, duke of Aquitaine (1126-1137) and VIII count of Poitou was the son of William IX (22^nd October 1071-10^th February 1126) and Audearde of Burgundy (1050-1104) who she married in 1068. He was born in 1099 and died at Saint-Jacques de Compostelle, in Spain on 9^th April 1137. He married Eleanor of Chatellerault in 1121. His only son, William died young. His elder daughter, Eleanor (1122-1204) married Louis VI’s son Louis in 1137. We know little of his second daughter Petronille other than she died in April 1153.

[16] The duke’s words, as reported by Suger, stated an important principle: the count of the Auverge is a vassal of the duke of Aquitaine but because the duke himself is a vassal of the king, the count is ultimately answerable to the king. The concept is important in the recovery of royal power by the Capetians in the twelfth century and such a clear acceptance of it by a major vassal so distance from Paris is significant. This statement demonstrates the existence, at the beginning of the twelfth century that genuine feudal duties limited the relationship between the regional lords and the Crown.