Yet the same biographer hints at something lacking in Geoffrey. His imagination was quick but his heart cold, his impulses springing from lively fancy rather than passion. He treated threats of excommunication from the archbishop of Tours with a jest about the patrimony of Saint Martin. The life of this clever, charming, weak prince was half-spoilt by his marriage, which yoked a lad of fifteen to a woman of twenty-five, the Empress Matilda. Yet the union produced what Henry most wanted: a grandson to inherit both Norman and Angevin claims.
In 1133, on Mid-Lent Sunday, Matilda bore a son at Le Mans, the midway point between Normandy and Anjou, the old bone of contention and now the scene of their union. The child was baptized Henry in the cathedral by the bishop of the diocese and placed upon the same altar where his father had been dedicated thirteen years before. Henry I summoned another great council and made archbishops, bishops, earls, and barons swear fealty to the Empress and her little son. All seemed secure when, in August 1135, the old king crossed to Normandy, never to return alive.
In spring 1135 Matilda joined her father at Rouen, and shortly before Whitsuntide her second son was born. Henry lingered on in Normandy, leaving England in Bishop Roger of Salisbury’s care. Then came news of disturbance on the Welsh border, and Henry prepared to depart, but his daughter set herself against his going; behind the scenes she and Geoffrey had been playing a double game. Geoffrey suddenly claimed certain castles in Normandy allegedly promised at his marriage. Henry denied it; Geoffrey attacked and burned Beaumont. Roger of Toëny and William Talvas of Alençon had been gained over to the Angevin cause. When Henry seized Talvas’s estates, Talvas fled to Geoffrey, and Matilda parted from her father in anger. They never met again. In late November Henry fell sick in the Forest of Lions. On the night of December 1 he died, bequeathing his dominions to Matilda and her heirs. The direct male line of the Conqueror expired with him.
Stephen of Blois lost no time. He crossed the Channel from Wissant in a tremendous storm and made for London, where his well-known face was hailed with delight. The citizens, alarmed at being “kingless,” claimed an ancient right to choose the sovereign and elected Stephen. He hurried to Winchester, secured the treasury, and won over the primate and the justiciar. When Archbishop William of Canterbury hesitated to perform the coronation on grounds of the oath to Matilda, the legate-bishop Henry of Winchester, Stephen’s brother, offered himself as surety for Stephen’s promises to maintain the Church’s liberties, and so won him the crown. The ceremony took place at Westminster on December 22, 1135.
Stephen, third son of Stephen-Henry of Blois and Adela, the Conqueror’s daughter, had been brought up at Henry’s court, knighted by the king, and enriched with the county of Mortain and ample English estates. He had married Matilda, daughter of the count of Boulogne and Mary of Scotland, becoming virtually the king’s adoptive son. He was a gallant knight, courteous, open-handed, gracious, and merciful; but he inherited the fatal lack of steadfastness that had ruined Odo of Blois. He was, as the English Chronicler says, “a mild man, soft and good—and did no justice.”
Stephen’s first two years were outwardly prosperous. He bought off his brother Theobald’s claim to Normandy for two thousand marks annually, secured the French king’s recognition of his tenure, and met a Scottish invasion under King David, champion of Matilda’s rights. The Battle of the Standard, fought on Cowton Moor near Northallerton on August 22, 1138, was won for Stephen by the Yorkshiremen under Archbishop Thurstan’s inspiration, with consecrated banners and silver pyx on a mast fixed in a cart. The wild Galwegians dashed vainly upon the English shield-wall; a stratagem of holding up a gory head and crying that David was slain broke the Scottish centre, and the king was dragged from the field by his household troops. Eleven hundred Scots were slain; only nineteen of two hundred armed knights carried their mail-coats home. Yet within months the victory was undone when Earl Robert of Gloucester, the late king’s eldest son, renounced allegiance after disputes and confiscation of his estates. Bristol became “the stepmother of all England,” whence Robert’s men sallied to torture and plunder the king’s adherents.
Stephen struck back savagely. At Shrewsbury he smoked the garrison out and hanged the noblest, then took Arnulf of Hesdin’s castle and hanged Arnulf with ninety-three comrades. The warning was effective: at Dover Walkelyn Maminot surrendered; in the north, the Standard held the Scots in check. But the king had strained every nerve, and in June 1139 he struck a blow that proved his ruin. He summoned Bishop Roger of Salisbury to Oxford, and on a pretext of treasonable correspondence with the Empress arrested him and his nephews, the bishop of Lincoln and treasurer Nigel of Ely, dragging the old bishop from the council in his episcopal robes. Nigel escaped to Devizes, but his mother Matilda of Ramsbury could not bear to see a rope about her son’s neck and surrendered the keep. The enormous treasure accumulated by the old minister was seized. The English Church rose in arms. Bishop Henry of Winchester, appointed papal legate, cited his brother Stephen to answer for sacrilege before a council at Winchester on August 29. The king had to lay aside his royal robes and come as a humble penitent to receive the Church’s censure.
On September 30, 1139, the Empress landed at Arundel with her brother Robert and a hundred and forty knights, received by the ex-queen Adeliza. Stephen hurried to besiege them, but Robert slipped out with twelve knights and reached Bristol. Bishop Henry persuaded Stephen to let Matilda go free to join her brother, and on November 1 the Empress reached Gloucester, where she kept Christmas in regal state. By Whitsuntide 1140 Stephen held court in the Tower, and only one bishop, and that a foreigner, could attend. The whole system of government established by King Henry had fallen with his ministers, and for seven years England was to be given over to the unchecked fury of the feudal nobility.
The crisis came in the north. The earl of Chester, Ralf, ruling his palatine earldom as an almost independent sovereign, had quarrelled with Henry of Scotland over Carlisle. Stephen granted Lincoln to Ralf’s half-brother William of Roumare, but a title satisfied neither. Their wives helped them execute a trick for gaining Lincoln Castle, and Ralf set himself up as lord and master, oppressing the citizens and countryside. Stephen gathered an armed host and besieged the castle. Ralf slipped out, made his way to Chester, and offered his allegiance to the Empress if his father-in-law Robert of Gloucester would raise the siege.
The original text of this work is in the public domain. This page focuses on a guided summary article, reading notes, selected quotes, and visual learning materials for educational purposes.