“I hope you are right, but what now?” I asked. “You say Stephen is called to this council. Will he appear?”
“He will send a representative and seek to influence the proceedings. I am not sure how far gone Bishop Henry is—I mean, how deep the breach between him and his brother is. It seems hard to believe that he would report the case to Rome, for that might be viewed as treason. My guess is that Stephen will survive, but there is a growing discontent among the bishops. In time, we can win them over to our side. If I am wrong and Bishop Henry intends to deny his brother, then we may be able to depart for England before winter. The difficulty lies in finding a place to land. Stephen has seized all my castles except for Bristol, and sailing around Land’s End this time of year … let’s just say I’d rather not.”
“There I may have a solution!” I proclaimed.
He raised his brows. “Oh really?”
“I heard back from Lady Adeliza. She desires to help us in any way she can, but of course her husband is a great supporter of Stephen. She tells me that, should I ever find myself in England, I would be welcome at Arundel Castle, for that estate is hers by right, and she does not think that Stephen could fault her too harshly for offering hospitality to a relative through marriage.”
Robert smiled and shook his head in wonder. “She really said that? Then she must know you are looking for a port, for Arundel is right near the coast. It can withstand a siege if need be.”
“Yes, well, let us hope there is no such need. But what do you think? It is a kind offer, no?”
“Very kind,” he agreed, nodding his head. “Indeed, I wonder that she is willing to stick her neck out for us when she has little to gain.”
“Women always like to help other women, Robert, particularly those who have done them a good turn,” I said with a smile.
“I suppose you are right. There is some further news. Miles of Gloucester may be wavering in his support, or so I was told by one of my men in Bristol.”
“Truly?! That is good news indeed! If we could win him to our cause … but perhaps I am wrong to hope.”
“I think not. The tide is turning, as they say. I will see if I can get word to Lord Brian—tell him to make ready in case we are able to travel there. I know Lord Baldwin is willing to do his part, for he is keen to recover his lands.”
I had barely heard the words that came after “Lord Brian.” Ever since Robert had informed me that Brian still cared for me—indeed, that he had loved me all those years since we were torn apart—I had thought about him not just every day, but probably every hour. Naturally, I knew that his feelings did not make things any less impossible: there was still no chance of us being together, or not any that I could possibly consider in my position. But simply to be in his presence again and know that this person I had loved for so long still loved me seemed a prize to be treasured, and though I had spoken of it to no one, the possibility of seeing him had only increased my desire to get to England sooner rather than later. Yes, I felt a bit guilty about it, but it was the truth.
As I had missed Robert’s point, I decided to change the subject. “It’s a pity that Pope Innocent couldn’t see the merit of our case. If he had decided in our favor—”
“Do not concern yourself with that now. The Holy Father has no desire to become involved in this matter. He simply sided with the man who was already on the throne. If we can overthrow Stephen, then Rome will hearken to our call. The pope has enough enemies already: he will not make another one for a simple matter of principle.”
“For shame, brother!” I said, smiling and shaking my head. “I see your opinion of Rome is somewhat worse than mine.”
“Yes, but you have been there. You have seen its glories. You have allowed it to seduce you.”
“I think I have suffered a great deal more on account of Rome than you ever have! I have far more reason for annoyance. But let us speak no more of such things. We will wait to hear the council’s decision, then if God wills it, we will set sail for Arundel ere the frost has arrived. I shall hate to leave my boys, but this is no time for sentiment.”
“Excellent!” he said, clapping his hands.
Even as he smiled at me, I thought of something else: something I had been hiding in the darkest part of my soul for some time. I had been wanting to ask this question ever since Robert had come back to me—indeed, ever since Stephen had been gifted the crown. Although it struck my heart with fear to even consider it, I knew I must speak my query at one point or another, and it seemed best to do so before departing for England. I therefore took a deep breath and proceeded.
“One thing though, Robert.”
“Yes?”
“I have been meaning to ask you this, only I was afraid to—that is, I am afraid to know the answer.”
“Well, let’s have out with it then!”
I nodded my head. “Very well. You were there with the late king before he died?”
“Yes, every painful hour of it. They said it was the lampreys that did him in, but I think not. He was sick before he ate them.”
“Be that as it may, in those final days, when you and the archbishop and the other lords were with him, did he ever say anything about the succession?”
Robert looked deep into my eyes. I felt as if he was reading my soul.
“You want to know if he released the lords from their oath of fealty? If he appointed Stephen?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Well, it is certainly true that he was angry with you, and that Stephen had been rising in the royal favor for some time, and that many of the lords begrudged having to make the oath to you in the first place.”
“Oh God …” I muttered, looking away.
He placed his hand on mine. “But Maud—”
“Yes?” I replied, turning my eyes toward him.
“He never said anything of the sort. He told me to travel to Caen and take the money out of the treasury, and then to give it to you as soon as you arrived. He wanted the throne for Prince Henry. That was his true desire. When a man is dying, he thinks less of vengeance and more of reconciliation. You can ask any of us who were there, and if they are being honest, they will tell you the same thing. Those who are saying that the king changed his mind—they were never there! They are lying to us all. You must know that!”
“You’re sure there was nothing that might have led them to believe—”
“No.”
I gave a sigh of relief and a few tears dropped from my eyes. “Thank you, brother. You have no idea how many times I have worried about that in the dark hours of the night. I often doubt myself in those moments.”
“Do not doubt again!” he commanded. “Do not doubt that you will sit on England’s throne, for I will commit my every waking moment to it!”
“Let us hope you are given the chance to do so,” I concluded.
As the last days of summer were upon us, we sent Baldwin de Redvers to Wareham, where he hoped to seize Corfe Castle and thus gain custody of the port. He succeeded in his first aim, but Stephen’s men were wise to his presence. They surrounded the castle and did not allow him to leave. Little did they know that Wareham was not our object at all. Had we gained it, so much the better, but the chief aim was to create confusion among our enemies. As Stephen arrived in Winchester and sent his representatives to Bishop Henry’s council, his mind must have been in Wareham as much as it was in the old capital city.
As Earl Robert had foreseen, Stephen’s allies were able to bend the council to their own ends. Archbishop Hugh of Rouen declared that no bishop should be in possession of a castle, for that was a mark of worldly pride and not fit for a prince of the Church. Here his intent was clear, for even as Bishop Roger of Salisbury had loved his castles, so Bishop Henry of Winchester set great store by his own estates. This was not a defense of Stephen so much as an assault upon the usurper’s brother. Bishop Henry vowed to appeal to Rome, and he gained no little support from the other English bishops, who feared what acti
ons the king might take against themselves. Stephen countered this with his own threat, vowing to banish any man who left England in violation of his wishes—that is, who went to speak with the Holy Father.
Had I not known better, I might have thought that Stephen was trying to see how far he could push his brother before he would attempt something desperate. As it turned out, we had the answer soon enough. In the first week of September 1139, I was sitting on a bench just beneath one of the windows in the upper passage of the castle keep. I had asked for it to be placed there, for I enjoyed reading with the sunlight upon me. There was a sound of someone rounding the corner, and I looked up from the page to see my brother walking toward me.
“Well met, Robert,” I said, smiling at him.
“Well met indeed!” he replied.
I noticed that he had a sealed letter in his hand.
“Where is that from?” I asked, pointing at it.
“This, my lady,” he said, holding it out to me, “is from the bishop of Winchester.”
My eyes grew wide. “God be praised,” I whispered.
I took the letter from his hand and set my book aside. I then moved toward the end of the bench and patted at the space to my right. He sat down next to me as I broke the seal and opened the letter. My heart was beating strongly and my hands shook ever so slightly.
“You go ahead first, then tell me what it says,” Robert instructed.
I nodded and began to read.
To Her Most Serene Highness, the Empress Mathilda, Countess of Anjou—
You no doubt take as much surprise in receiving this letter as I did in writing it, but the state of affairs here in England is such that we must all consider how best to preserve the welfare of this kingdom. When I gave my fealty to King Stephen, it was with the assurance that he would do everything in his power to safeguard and promote the interests of our Holy Church, and he swore before Almighty God that he would not violate this sacred oath. Yet these past months have seen such grievous injury done to the practice of true Christianity that my conscience begs me to seek the support of Your Highness, for I can no longer own that all the actions of the king are in line with the will of God and the laws of the land. He has fallen under the control of most vile counselors who have made him their cuckold and wrought destruction upon this, our kingdom. Such a fearful rebellion has sprung up here that England is likely to repeat those days spoken about in scripture, when “every man did that which was good in his eyes.”[19] Now as then, a Deborah may suffice. Therefore, in light of the respect due to your person, I think it only right that you should be welcomed upon our shores, according to the will of the late King Henry, whom we all knew and loved. Only your presence here can grant safety to our beloved Church. I bid you come as soon as you can, but say not that I have sent for you, for I am already in great danger here and fear those around the king, who would gladly slit my throat and yours if they had the chance. Again, I bid you, make for England and restore us to true religion. I will ensure that you are given safe passage.—Henry, Bishop of Winchester, Abbot of Glastonbury
When I had finished reading, I folded the letter again and held it in my lap.
“Well,” said Robert, “what does he have to say for himself?”
“He wants me to come to England. He fears for the Church and thinks that I can help to ‘restore true religion,’ whatever that means. Also, he says I will be granted safe passage.”
“And do you believe him?”
“Certainly not. That is, he may well try to make it so, but it is plain enough that he does not control the king. No, I will tell you what he is doing. Perhaps he wants to teach his brother a lesson. Perhaps he thinks that my presence there will make him more powerful, for if Stephen must fight for the love of the Church, so much the better for the bishops. I suppose it is just possible that he hates his brother so much, he would subvert his reign as a form of vengeance. However, I think it more likely that he does not so much want me to be queen as he wants to make his brother miserable: to strengthen the Church, and by extension, himself.”
Robert placed his hand on mine. “Either way, this is our chance. Stephen is causing all men to flee from him. He has never been weaker. Leave Normandy to Count Geoffrey. We make for England.”
And so it was that on the fifth day before the Kalends of October, in the year of our Lord 1139, I rose from my bed at the castle of Caen and was dressed by Adela. I handed my things to Drogo that he might ready my horse. I slipped into the chamber where my boys were sleeping and stood there for a moment watching them. God only knew when I would see them again. As I kissed their foreheads, I felt a twinge of guilt, but then I remembered that I was doing it all for them.
I made my way down the stairs and through the front gate into the yard, where over a hundred men waited with horses at the ready: Earl Robert, Drogo, Guy de Sablé, and the rest of the knights. Lady Mabel of Gloucester, my brother’s wife, elected to come as well, though I deemed it unwise, not wanting any harm to befall her. This was not a true invasion party, but one meant to avoid detection. I mounted my steed and blew one last kiss toward the castle keep, then we set off for the coast. That was such a strange ride: one moment I was filled with excitement that I was finally returning, the next with fear that Stephen might seize me, and the next with sorrow to be parted from my boys. We reached the port by midday and climbed into the small vessels, none of which were likely to attract much attention, for they were no larger than fishing boats.
As we raised the anchor and pushed off into the water, I felt a rush of fear coursing through me as my actions seemed to become fully real. I turned to look back at the land I was leaving behind—a land where I might have dwelled in peace, had I been willing to surrender to fate. For just a moment, I doubted my choice. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Drogo.
“Remember, Empress Mathilda, ‘Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering …’”
I smiled and nodded. “‘… for he who promised is faithful.’”
“Never forget that,” he said.
I walked up to the bow, where Earl Robert stood with his arms resting upon the rail, hands folded, gazing forward at the meeting of sea and sky. I stood next to him, sharing in the same view. The wind was blowing gently, caressing my face and moving my veil ever so slightly.
“I am betting everything on you, Robert,” I told him. “Do not let me down.”
“Do you see that—there in the distance?” he asked, pointing ahead.
I strained to try to make out some distant figure, but I had no idea what he meant. “I see nothing.”
“Yes, but beyond that nothing there is England! For as long as it takes, as far as it takes us, we will fight for that sacred ground,” he promised, placing a hand upon my shoulder. “We will not rest until it is won.”
Even as he walked away, I continued looking off to the north, a smile forming upon my face. The waves continued to lap against the stem, and I could hear the distant call of gulls.
“England,” I whispered.
I hope you have enjoyed The Forsaken Monarch, the second of three planned volumes in the Chronicle of Maud series. I welcome reviews on sites such as Amazon and Goodreads. You can follow me on Twitter @AmyMantravadi, on my Facebook pages /chronicleofmaud and /amymantravadi, and on the official series website, www.chronicleofmaud.com. If you like reading essays on theological topics, you can also check out my blog, www.amymantravadi.com. Thanks again for reading!
Grace and peace,
Amy Mantravadi
* * *
[1] The phrase is found in Matthew 22:21, Mark 12:17, and Luke 20:25.
[2] This translation is by Henry T. Riley, from an edition copyright 1899 by David McKay.
[3] Henderson, Ernest F., ed. Select Historical Documents of the Middle Ages, trans. Ernest F. Henderson, Bohn’s Antiquarian Library (London: George Bell & Sons, 1892), 409. Edited slightly for stylistic continuity.
[4] Ibid, 408-9. Edited slightly for stylis
tic continuity.
[5] “Where charity and love are, God is there. / As we are gathered into one body, / Beware, lest we be divided in mind. / Let evil impulses stop, let controversy cease, / And may Christ our God be in our midst.” Translation provided by Michael Martin in “Thesaurus Precum Latinarum” (“Treasury of Latin Prayers”), www.preces-latinae.org. Original Latin text from the standard Roman Catholic missal.
[6] Saint Columba, “Alone with None but Thee, My God,” trans. Anonymous. First appeared in the 1971 version of the Hymn Book of the Anglican Church of Canada and the United Church of Canada, but pre-dates that publication significantly.
[7] Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-8
[8] A famous quotation from Virgil’s Aeneid, Book Nine, Lines 513-14. John Dryden translated it into English as, “If my verse can give immortal life, your fame shall ever live.” Robert Fagles renders it thus: “If my song have any power, the day will never dawn that wipes you from the memory of the ages.” Latter translation found in Virgil, The Aeneid, Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition, trans. Robert Fagles (New York: Penguin Group, 2008).
[9] Anonymous. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, ed. J.A. Giles, Bohn’s Antiquarian Library (London: George Bell & Sons, 1914), 141. Based on the translation by Rev. James Ingram circa 1823.
[10] Guillaume of Poitiers. “Farai chansoneta nueva,” From Dawn to Dawn: Troubadour Poetry, trans. A.S. Kline (Poetry in Translation, 2009), 31–2.
[11] This quote and the ones that follow are excerpts from Psalm 51.
[12] Isaiah 9:2
[13] Translation from The Book of Hours: In which are Contained Offices for the Seven Canonical Hours, Litanies, and Other Devotions (New York: Hurd and Hougton, 1866). “Jesus hath shone benignly forth / Redeemer of the tribes of the earth; / Let all the faithful far and near / The praises of his deeds declare.”
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