Twice Royal Lady

by Hilary Green

  Brian, as always, sensed her mood. ‘Henry could not have chosen a more suitable place for this meeting. You know that the abbey was founded by the wife of King Edgar, who founded the line of English kings and from whom, through your mother, you draw your own descent? It is fitting that this should be the place where the two royal lines, of Normandy and England, come together in your person.’

  She caught his eye and smiled. ‘You always have the right words to lift my spirits.’

  ‘I speak no more than the truth. Trust me, this will be a great day.’

  The abbey housed a sisterhood of Benedictine nuns and the mother abbess greeted her as she dismounted and conducted her to a private room, where a table set with delicacies stood in front of a cheerful fire.

  ‘Pray refresh yourself, madam. Bishop Henry is already here. When you are ready I will take you to the chapter house, where he awaits you.’

  A lay sister brought warm water, and when she had washed and eaten her ladies helped her out of her travelling clothes and arrayed her in a bliaut of sky blue silk, and a woollen overmantle in a deeper tone of the same colour, bordered with embroidery of gold thread and precious stones and lined with fur. She covered her hair with a veil of fine linen, held in place by a simple fillet of gold. The effect, as she intended, was impressive without overt pretensions to regality.

  She entered the room with Robert at her left and Reginald at her right, reinforcing the family connection and demonstrating that, as Henry’s sons, they endorsed her position as his rightful heir. Brian and Miles followed close behind. Bishop Henry came forward to lead her to a chair and took a seat facing her.

  ‘My lady, it seems that God has favoured your cause and it ill behoves me to quarrel with that outcome. But there are certain considerations which need to be addressed before I can offer you my unqualified support.’

  She bit back an irritable retort. ‘What considerations are those, my lord?’

  ‘You will be aware that when my brother took the throne he made certain promises, among them an undertaking to respect the authority of the Church and the dignity of its prelates. In that respect he has signally failed to keep his oath. By arresting Bishop Roger of Salisbury, Bishop Nigel of Ely and Bishop Alexander of Lincoln he made an unwarranted attack on the Church and by denying them the right to be tried by their peers in an ecclesiastical court he broke his oath to respect the Church’s independence from lay authority. This is the matter upon which I require reassurance.’

  ‘One moment, my lord,’ Brian broke in. ‘As you say, Stephen is your brother. I mean no disrespect, but you will understand that we also require reassurance. It seems surprising that you should turn against your own flesh and blood.’

  Henry’s lips tightened but he nodded. ‘It is a reasonable question. I love my brother. But I am obliged to put my loyalty to God and his church above my loyalty to him.’

  ‘So all you require of me is an oath not to meddle in the affairs of the Church?’ she asked.

  ‘Exactly so, my lady.’

  ‘And if I give you that promise, you will acknowledge me as King Henry’s rightful heir and Queen of England?’

  ‘I will acknowledge your right to be queen, but until you have been crowned and anointed I cannot give you that title. I will, however, proclaim you as Lady of the English until such time as that can be accomplished.’

  ‘Then I give you my oath that I will in all things connected with the Church consult with you and take your advice, particularly in the matter of the election of bishops and abbots. And you in turn will receive me in holy church as your lady and swear fealty to me?’

  He went down on his knees. ‘Madam, I will.’

  Next morning she rode into Winchester, sitting sideways on her white palfrey. Since the birth of her children she had found this a more comfortable position, and besides she knew that to ride astride like a man might give offence to the bishops. She was dressed this time in white samite, the rich silk interwoven with threads of gold. Over this she wore a mantle of crimson trimmed with ermine and pearls and her veil was held in place by a jewelled coronet. In place of a page, Brian walked at her horse’s bridle and Robert and Reginald rode behind her, with Miles following. Her household knights and Robert’s formed a rearguard. At the gate of the city she was met by Bishop Henry and Turstin, the clerk of the royal treasury. Henry handed her the keys to Winchester Castle and Turstin the keys to the treasury, where the royal crown was kept. This ceremony over, she proceeded through the city streets and when they reached the square in front of the cathedral they found it crowded with people, who greeted her with cheers. Small children offered up posies of early spring flowers and mothers held up their babies for her to bless.

  Outside the great west doors of the cathedral Brian lifted her down and she walked between Bishop Henry and Bishop Bernard into the nave. A procession formed, led by a canon carrying a crucifix and two boys with censors, so that she walked through a cloud of incense. Behind her, as well as her brothers and Brian and Miles, came five other bishops and a number of abbots. The cathedral was packed with people. Church dignitaries rubbed shoulders with local gentry and the burgers of the city and their wives, all wedged so close together that they could hardly move, though many of them contrived to bow or curtsey as she passed. She was reminded of her 12-year-old self walking to her wedding to the emperor, and for a moment she felt a constriction in her throat. A throne had been placed for her at the top of the chancel steps and when she was seated the choir began to sing Psalm 100. ‘Make a joyful noise unto the Lord all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness; come before His presence with singing.’

  When the psalm was finished Bishop Henry moved to the chancel steps and faced the congregation. ‘Beloved brothers and sisters, I present to you Matilda, the truly begotten daughter of our great King Henry, Empress of the Romans, and now Lady of the English and your rightful sovereign.’

  A roar of acclamation arose from the packed congregation and voices called, ‘Long live the Lady Matilda! God bless our lady!’ The tightness in her throat was greater now and she forced herself to breathe deeply. At last! she said to herself. This is the day I have waited for so long. At last I have my rightful place – and no one shall take it from me!

  When the ceremony was over she retired to Wherewell to hold council with the bishop, Robert and her other close friends.

  ‘So, gentlemen. What is our next step?’

  Robert said at once, ‘We must get you crowned as soon as possible. Once that is done no one can dispute your position.’

  ‘That will not be possible immediately,’ Bishop Henry said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘To begin with, we must convince the archbishop. The coronation must be carried out by him or there will be room for doubts about its validity.’

  ‘Where is Theobald?’ she asked. ‘Why has he not come to acknowledge me?’

  ‘He sends word that he is much troubled in conscience and cannot commit himself to your support until he has first consulted with the anointed king and ascertained his wishes.’

  She bit her lip. ‘He knows me well, and I had thought to have his goodwill. He must know that in anointing Stephen he anointed an oath breaker and a usurper. What does he expect?’

  ‘He has requested that he be permitted to visit Stephen. He hopes to win his consent to the change of ruler.’

  ‘His consent?’ Her anger flared up again. ‘He is my prisoner. His consent, or otherwise, has no significance.’

  ‘But if it serves to salve the archbishop’s conscience …?’

  ‘Very well. Let them meet, if that is what is needed. What more is there to do?’

  ‘It is essential to convince the other bishops and leaders of the clergy of the rightness of your claim. Easter is approaching. I will invite them to a great conclave in Winchester and I do not doubt that when they learn of the promises you have made they will give their support.’

  ‘Good. Can we then proceed to the coronation?’
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br />   ‘We need to win the consent of the Londoners.’

  ‘Consent of the Londoners!’ she exclaimed. ‘Since when has the monarch required the consent of mere commoners for a coronation? It is not for them to give or withhold at their whim.’

  ‘You must remember, my lady,’ Henry said placatingly, ‘that it is a long tradition, going back to the time of King Edgar, that the burghers of London should play some part in choosing the ruler. Besides which, when Stephen came to England to claim the throne, he made promises to them and gave them the right to form a commune. This gives them privileges that they will be reluctant to lose.’

  She gritted her teeth. ‘The concessions of a weak man who knew his claim was false!’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ Henry persisted, ‘in order to reach Westminster Abbey for the coronation you will require their cooperation. We cannot risk antagonizing them at this juncture.’

  She nodded reluctantly. ‘Very well. Let them be sent for and I will speak with them.’

  ‘They were invited to come to our meeting yesterday, but they begged time to consider the situation.’

  ‘Consider? What is there for them to consider? Their queen requires their attendance. Is that not enough?’

  ‘I think the bishop is making an important point,’ Robert said quietly. ‘Your position is not yet secure. If we need to conciliate these Londoners in order to get you crowned, that is what we must do. Anything else … any other measures you may think fit … can wait till later.’

  She swallowed her growing irritation. ‘Yes, you are right, as usual. Very well. When might it please these jumped up burghers to condescend to meet us?’

  ‘I will send to them again,’ Henry said. ‘Now that you have been received by the Church I think they will not hesitate any longer.’

  ‘There is another matter, more pressing perhaps than any of these.’ Miles spoke for the first time. ‘Stephen’s queen, the other Matilda, still holds large areas of Kent and William of Ypres is with her. They present a major threat to any plans we may make to go to London.’

  ‘It is vital that we control the Tower,’ Robert said. ‘Geoffrey de Mandeville was given custody of it by Stephen, together with the earldom of Essex. We need to win him over.’

  ‘He’s a time server,’ Henry responded. ‘His father was disinherited by the late King and he had a long struggle to regain his position. He will not risk going back to being a poor landless knight again. I think we can rely on him to see where power now lies.’

  ‘Very well.’ Robert flexed his shoulders. ‘I shall open negotiations with him. Meanwhile, we need to consolidate our power. There are still those who have not made a formal submission. Some are determined to hold out for Stephen, others are wavering, waiting to see what happens next. Now that Matilda has been received by the Church as Lady of the English many of them will be ready to swear fealty. I suggest, madam, that you celebrate Easter in your castle at Oxford. We have heard that Robert d’Oilly is ready to surrender it to you. That is a central point, easily accessible from most parts of the country. We will proclaim that all those desirous of making their peace should wait upon you there. Meanwhile, we shall wait for the outcome of the council of churchmen which Bishop Henry is calling. Once we know for certain who is with us and who against us we shall be able to make plans.’

  A few days later she set out with her entourage towards Oxford. The first night was to be spent at the abbey of Wilton, the convent where she spent five years of her childhood. As she rode through the villages the people came out of their houses to see her pass. Some cheered and called down blessings on her, but many watched in silence. Their faces were haggard; their children thin and ragged. Men stopped work in the fields to gaze, but many of the field strips were uncultivated, the weeds encroaching on the neighbouring strips which had been ploughed. The evidence of disease and starvation, which had killed so many, was everywhere.

  She turned to Brian, who rode beside her. ‘We have done this. We have wrought this desolation. Little wonder they see nothing to cheer.’

  His eyes were compassionate but his tone was reassuring. ‘There will be time to make all this good, once you are queen.’

  When they reached Wilton a very different scene greeted them. Outside the gates a huge crowd waited to welcome her. Here the cheers were full-throated and the local dignitaries came to make their obeisance and offer gifts. She gazed around as she entered the abbey, trying to find something that reminded her of the 8-year-old child who left it on the way to her betrothal; but nothing seemed familiar. She was not sorry. Her memories, such as they were, were not happy ones.

  The abbess greeted her. ‘My lady, the Archbishop of Canterbury is here. He is waiting to meet you.’

  ‘Archbishop Theobald! That is good news. I will go to him directly.’

  When the first greetings were over Theobald requested a private audience and she dismissed her followers.

  Alone with him she knelt to kiss his ring. ‘Bless me, Father.’

  ‘The blessings of God the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit be upon you, my child.’ He raised her to her feet. ‘It is many years since we last met.’

  ‘It is and much has changed. I hoped to have your support for my claim to the throne.’

  ‘I have never ceased to pray for you.’

  ‘I am grateful to know that I have not incurred your anger, at least.’ She paused. ‘You told me once that I was guilty of the sin of pride. Do you think that it is pride that has driven me to take arms against my cousin?’

  ‘That is something you must question your own conscience about.’

  ‘I do not believe it is pride. I believe that I have right and justice on my side and that Stephen’s usurpation was against the law of God. Did not He ordain that the daughters of Zelophehad should inherit their father’s land? Is that not a powerful argument in my favour?’

  ‘You are well read in the scriptures, as I recall. I do not doubt your right to the crown.’

  ‘So why did you crown Stephen?’

  ‘I did what seemed best for the country. Without a king the land was descending into chaos. You were far away in Anjou and gave no sign that you planned to return. Stephen was at hand and promised to restore order. Sadly, that is something he has failed to do.’

  ‘Why then were you not present when I was proclaimed Lady of the English?’

  ‘I crowned and anointed your cousin. It was a mistake. I admit that humbly and beg forgiveness from God and from you for my error. But it is done and cannot be undone, except with the consent of the man I crowned.’

  ‘You believe that is possible?’

  ‘I hope so. I believe I can convince Stephen that his defeat by your forces is a sign from God that he was crowned in error and that in order to make his peace with the Almighty he must renounce the crown.’

  ‘And if he does, you will have no difficulty with crowning me in his place?’

  ‘I understand that Bishop Henry has written to His Holiness the Pope asking for his opinion. If the answer is favourable, then I see no impediment.’

  She chewed her lip in silence for a moment. ‘Very well. Make arrangements with Lord Robert to be conducted to Bristol and given access to Stephen. If he can be persuaded, as you suggest, then we can only await the Pope’s reply.’

  As she continued her progress towards Oxford the crowds assembled to watch her pass grew by the hour. Local lords came with their retainers to pledge fealty and join the procession. Houses were decked out with banners and she and her followers were garlanded with flowers. At Reading the press of people in the streets was even greater than at Wilton and Robert d’Oilly, the custodian of Oxford Castle, came in person to offer her the keys.

  The Easter celebrations were more joyful than any she could recall. Brian constituted himself master of ceremonies and there was no shortage of minstrels and jongleurs offering their services. Oxford Castle rang with the sound of music. There was feasting and dancing at night and hunting and hawking
by day. Many of the greatest men in the land flocked to offer their allegiance and every corner of the castle and every inn in the city was packed with their followers. Chief among them was her uncle, David of Scotland, who had always been a loyal supporter, though the necessity of keeping control of his own border lands had prevented him from joining his forces with hers. One of the most surprising arrivals was that of William Pont de l’Arche, Stephen’s former chamberlain. Old friends joined her too, among them Baldwin de Redvers and her stewards Robert de Courcey and Humphrey de Bohun.

  When the celebrations were over and most of the guests had departed, Bishop Henry came to report on the council of churchmen that he had convened.

  ‘I held separate meetings with the bishops, the abbots and the archdeacons. I pointed out to them that, aside from breaking his promise to protect the Church and respect the clergy, Stephen had failed in the most basic duty of a monarch – to keep peace in the land. I reminded them that from the time of his accession there have been constant uprisings, in many cases because he disinherited some men in order to reward his followers. So that all through his reign there was scarcely a month in which he did not have to ride from one end of the country to another to put down a new rebellion, with dire consequences to the prosperity of the nation and the lives of the inhabitants. I suggested that now he has been defeated and imprisoned the country must have a new ruler, and that therefore we should place our trust in the daughter of a king who was a great peacemaker.’

  ‘And did they accept your arguments?’ she asked.

  ‘By the grace of God they did. And there is better news yet. The archbishop attended the meetings. As you know, he has been to visit Stephen in Bristol castle, and he reports that he is willing to renounce the throne and permit the anointment of a new ruler.’

  She felt a rush of elation. ‘Then nothing now stands in the way of my coronation!’

  The bishop pursed his lips. ‘There are yet two matters of concern. During the meeting a letter was received from Queen Matilda – I mean Stephen’s wife. She denounced the proceedings and demanded the release of her husband.’