Motive's Mirror

1.  Our primary text is an eleventh century diary written by Eleanore of Flanders who was wife of Count Baldwin IV of Flanders, daughter of Richard II, Duke of Normandy, sister of Robert I, Duke of Normandy, cousin of Edward I, King of England, later referred to as Edward the Confessor.  Most importantly, Eleanore was aunt and godmother to William I, King of England referred to by scholars as “William the Conqueror” and by his enemies as “William the Bastard”.  We will read excerpts from Eleanore’s journal, which covers the period between 1019 and 1066.

2. 12 September 1035

The messenger arrived as Herleve and I were seated at our looms with William and his baby sister Adelaide playing on the bear rug beside us.  We heard the rapid clatter of hoof beats crossing the drawbridge, then thundering into the castle courtyard amid shouts of alarm.  Herleve’s clear blue eyes widened and her usually rosy complexion whitened as she rose to her feet.  I think she knew instinctively that the news was bad.  Why else would there be such need for dispatch?

A man entered the room, covered with dust and sweat, his breath coming in short gasps.  Removing his hat, he knelt before my sister-in-law.  “Milady”, he stammered.  “ Forgive me for being the bearer of bad news.”  As I looked down into his tear-streaked face, I guessed that something had happened to my brother Robert.  The messenger continued.  “My Lord the Duke of Normandy is dead.”  Hearing these words, Herleve collapsed into my arms.

Hours later, we were still in shock.  How could this be?   Herleve’s lover, Duke Robert was but 31 years old.  When he left on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he seemed in excellent health.  He was looking forward eagerly to the journey to the Holy Land.  He knew it would take many months and be full of hardship and danger, but Robert was used to all of that.  I think he enjoyed such challenges.

That night, I sat at Herleve’s bedside for hours until the physician arrived and administered an opium potion, which caused her to drop into a deep sleep.  I went to my own chamber and tried to sleep to no avail.  As is my daily habit, I opened my diary to record the day’s tragic events.  Seeking to make sense of it all, I began to read.