Twice Royal Lady

by Hilary Green

  In midsummer he visited her again, looking more optimistic than he had for months.

  ‘Faringdon is finished and it is a good piece of work. The hill is very steep and we have encircled the summit with a ditch and a palisade and built a strong keep. It will withstand any attack.’

  ‘Who has charge of it?’ she asked.

  ‘Brian de Soulis. He’s reliable and I’ve given him some of my best men for the garrison. He should be able to keep Stephen’s forces busy and away from us.’

  Robert was still at Devizes when a messenger brought word from Philip that Stephen had assembled a very powerful force, including the London militia, who had never wavered in their hostility to the empress, and marched against Faringdon.

  He is building a counter castle to protect his men and I am greatly afraid that when it is finished it will overlook the walls. If he brings up throwing machines de Soulis will not be able to hold out. It is imperative that you march to our aid immediately, or all our labour will be undone.

  Robert threw the letter aside. ‘March to his aid immediately! He knows how thinly our forces are spread now. It will take days before I can call in enough men to risk an attack.’

  He sent riders all over the county and beyond, summoning his vassals to bring their levies to Devizes. The reinforcements trickled in but it was days before all of them arrived. Meanwhile they received increasingly desperate appeals from Philip. Stephen’s mangonels were steadily reducing the turf palisade to dust and his archers were able to fire over the top of it and had killed a number of the defenders.

  Robert was about to set out when another rider galloped into the courtyard. Robert took the letter and turned back into the hall. She watched as he read and saw the colour drain from his face. He sank down on a stool and dropped the parchment on the rushes.

  She knelt at his side and laid a hand on his arm. ‘Brother, what is it? Are you ill?’ He shook his head wordlessly. ‘Tell me. Is Faringdon lost?’

  ‘Worse.’ His voice was a strangled croak. ‘Philip …’

  ‘Dead?’

  ‘No. That could be borne, but this … He has defected to Stephen. My own son!’ He choked and fell silent.

  She reached down and picked up the letter.

  I have to inform you of the loss of both Faringdon and Cricklade. The condition of the men in Faringdon having become desperate, and there being no sign of help from you, de Soulis sent a messenger to me in secret to tell me that he had made a treaty with Stephen to surrender the castle and had been offered generous terms. Since you have neglected to respond to my appeals for aid, knowing how desperate the position was, I have concluded that our cause is doomed to failure. It therefore seemed prudent to make my peace on the best terms I could get. Accordingly, I sent an embassy to King Stephen, offering to resign Cricklade to him, and my offer has been accepted in the most noble and generous manner. I am to have the control of several castles with their land and revenues. I have pledged my faith to the King and I shall henceforth serve him loyally as my liege lord.

  She took her brother’s hand. ‘He will soon discover his mistake. Stephen has proved himself faithless again and again. Look how he treated de Mandeville after he changed his allegiance. Trust me, before long Philip will be back, begging you on his knees for forgiveness.’

  He heaved a deep sigh. ‘Perhaps. It must be as God wills, I suppose.’ He hauled himself to his feet. ‘I had best countermand the orders I have given and send these men …’ He stopped suddenly and she saw him wince and clasp his left arm with his right hand.

  ‘What is it? You are ill. Let me send for the physician.’

  He breathed deeply and shook his head. ‘No, no. It is nothing. A strained muscle, nothing more.’ Before she could say anything else he strode out of the hall and began issuing orders.

  Over the next months they learned that Philip was not the only one to defect. Many of the barons who had come over to her cause when she seemed to be in the ascendant now decided that their best interests lay in submitting to Stephen. Most painful of all, Philip, with the zeal of a convert, was carrying out a violent campaign against any weak spots around the margins of his father’s land and earning himself a reputation for brutality surpassing even the cruel norms of warfare. Increasingly, she doubted the rightness of her struggle.

  ‘It would have been better for the country if I had stayed in Anjou and not pressed my claim to the throne,’ she said to Robert at their next meeting.

  ‘No! You must never think that. Your cause is right in the eyes of God.’

  ‘But look at the destruction we have wrought between us. Look at the suffering of the people.’

  ‘Look instead at your own lands, here in the west. Here the land is at peace, the folk go about their work as they have always done, and you are known as a just ruler who respects the laws and keeps her oaths. That is not so with Stephen. Since he first seized the throne the country has been torn apart by rebellion and unrest. It was his failure to keep the peace that first impelled the bishops to invite you to take the crown. He is known throughout the land as a man who cannot be trusted, who considers only his own advantage and not the obligations he owes to his subjects. If we had prevailed, if Bishop Henry had not forsworn himself, the country would long ago have been at peace under your rule.’

  And if I had not antagonized the Londoners… She thought it but did not speak it aloud. Instead she said, ‘So, what can we do now?’

  ‘Only hold on and wait for those who have turned against us to find out their mistake. It will happen, I assure you.’

  Before the year ended they had news from Rome which had the potential to alter the balance of power. Pope Eugenius had promulgated a bull declaring a new crusade. The question now was, how many English lords would heed the call and leave the country, taking their knights and men-at-arms with them?

  19

  DEVIZES, 1146-48

  Another winter passed and in the spring they learned of yet another defection. Ranulph of Chester, who had never committed himself wholly to her cause, signed a treaty with Stephen. It was a great loss. He controlled huge tracts of land in the north-west and now offered all those resources to the King on condition that Stephen helped him against the north Welsh, who were harrying his borders. As an earnest of his loyalty he joined Stephen in his campaign. They attacked and took Bedford and turned against Wallingford. But once again Brian and his loyal constable, William Boterell, held out and the great castle proved impregnable.

  Robert rode in, looking triumphant. ‘I knew this must happen. Did I not tell you that Stephen cannot be relied upon to keep his word? He has refused to send his troops into Wales, as he agreed with Ranulph, and demanded hostages from him as a pledge of good faith. Ranulph has refused so now they are at loggerheads.’

  Not long afterwards they heard that Ranulph had been arrested on suspicion of treason. Brian wrote to her:

  It is an infamous deed and one quite in keeping with Stephen’s character. I have heard that Ranulph attended his court with only a small following, suspecting no treachery, and was seized by some of Stephen’s men and thrown into prison.

  Rumours reached her that Ranulph’s men had started to attack Stephen’s properties in the north and then that Ranulph himself had been forced to hand over his castle of Lincoln in order to obtain his release. Within days an embassy from him arrived in Devizes. He was willing to renew his pledge of allegiance to her and promised her his loyal support from now on. He came south to take the oath of fealty and then returned northwards in an attempt to regain his lost castles.

  She called in her closest advisers, Robert and Reginald of Cornwall, her two half-brothers; John Marshall and Patrick of Salisbury.

  ‘I have been greatly troubled in mind for some time about the devastation these wars are wreaking on the common people. I have decided that we must make one last attempt to negotiate with Stephen. Reginald, you have always shown yourself a wise councillor and adept at argument. Will you undertake this mis
sion, if we can agree a safe conduct for you and some of your men?’

  ‘I will do it, madam,’ he agreed, ‘but I have little hope of success. What do you wish me to say on your behalf?’

  ‘You must press on Stephen the rightness of the Empress’s claims and demand that he renounce the throne,’ John said.

  ‘No, that will not work. The argument has been made too many times. Tell him that if he will agree to name Henry as his heir, instead of his own son Eustace, I will quit England and leave him to rule in peace for the space of his lifetime.’

  There was considerable argument over this approach but she remained adamant and in the end Reginald agreed to act as her ambassador. Messages were sent to Stephen in Oxford and he agreed a safe conduct for the deputation. Reginald set out with a small band of knights.

  The next day one of those knights rode back into the castle, bloody and dishevelled, and begged an urgent interview.

  ‘My lady, we were ambushed and attacked. Earl Reginald is a prisoner.’

  ‘Attacked? By whom? Surely Stephen is not base enough to renege on his own safe conduct.’

  ‘No, madam. Not King Stephen’s men. It was …’ He licked his lips and swallowed as if he had difficulty pronouncing the words. ‘It was Philip of Gloucester, Earl Robert’s son.’

  ‘Philip? Philip has attacked and taken Reginald prisoner? With what object?’

  ‘Ransom, madam. He set me free and sent me to tell you that in return for your brother’s freedom he demands that his father hand over Bristol Castle.’

  ‘Bristol! That is the heart of his father’s power. He could never relinquish it.’

  ‘I am instructed to tell you that if his father does not comply, your brother’s life will be forfeit.’

  She turned away, pressing her hand to her mouth. ‘God rot that man! He deserves no mercy either here or in hell, where he will surely go.’ After a moment she recovered herself and said, ‘Go to the kitchen and get yourself food and drink. Find my physician to tend your wounds. I need time to think.’

  For some time she paced the chamber, gnawing her fingers as she struggled to make sense of what she had been told. Then she sent for Alexander de Bohun and told him what had happened.

  ‘Philip is Stephen’s man since he defected. Stephen has given his word for the safety of Earl Reginald and it is against his honour to allow harm to come to him. I shall write a letter to him and you must convey it. Tell Stephen that it is for him to bring Philip under control and make him yield up his hostages.’

  Stephen, to his credit, acted at once and within days Alexander was able to return and report that Reginald had been freed and Philip was now under his lord’s extreme displeasure. That was the limit of his good intentions, however. Reginald returned, having achieved nothing.

  ‘I put our case as forcibly as I could, but Stephen is adamant. He will never relinquish the throne, nor will he accept Henry as his heir.’

  She bowed her head. ‘So be it. The struggle goes on.’

  Reports came to her from Ranulph. He had attacked Lincoln in an attempt to repossess it but had been driven back. He then turned his attention to Coventry and laid siege to it. Stephen marched to the garrison’s relief and briefly there seemed to be hope of the victory she had striven for for so long. She learned that Stephen had been wounded in the fighting; but almost at once a new report told her that the wound was slight and he had recovered and routed Ranulph. He had knighted his son Eustace, who had shown himself an able warrior in his father’s cause.

  Then a serious blow came from an unexpected quarter. Jocelyn, Bishop of Salisbury, arrived at Devizes.

  ‘It is a matter of the rightful possession of this castle,’ he began.

  ‘What do you mean? Devizes is mine.’

  ‘Not so, madam. You know as well as I do that it was originally built by Roger, my predecessor as bishop. It was expropriated by Stephen when Roger fell from grace, but it should by rights belong now to me.’

  ‘You are asking me to give up Devizes to you?’ She stared at him in disbelief. ‘That is out of the question. It is the centre of my power, my most vital stronghold.’

  Jocelyn’s bland expression did not change. ‘I simply state what is the legal position. I require you to hand over Devizes and if you refuse I shall appeal to the Pope to adjudicate. I have no doubt he will find in my favour.’

  She succeeded in persuading him to give her time to think, and he left, promising to return in a few days. She was distraught. Devizes was vital to her. She had no other stronghold to go to and it was her only secure foothold in the country. Eventually a possible compromise occurred to her. She wrote to Jocelyn, offering to augment the prebend due to the church of Heytesbury, which was within the diocese of Salisbury. She had already given the two priests that served the church a generous endowment but she now offered to add twenty-eight acres of land, with pasture for 100 sheep, ten oxen, two cows and two horses. It seemed at the time that the bishop was satisfied and she heard no more.

  Christmas came again and she kept it with as much state as she could muster. Then she heard that Stephen, to emphasize his supremacy, had held a ceremonial crown wearing in the city of Lincoln. It was a bitter reminder of the reversal of fortunes since the day of triumph when he became her prisoner.

  She was reading in her private chamber, trying to find some consolation in the work of Peter Abelard, when she heard the sound of horses clattering into the courtyard below. From the window she saw a large party of knights, but their colours were unfamiliar to her. Then one rider detached himself from the rest and dismounted from a magnificent chestnut destrier and she caught her breath.

  ‘Henry?’

  By the time she had run down the winding stair, he was in the great hall. He bowed and then came closer to kneel at her feet.

  ‘Lady Mother, I am happy to see you again. Please give me your blessing.’

  She spoke the words automatically and pulled him to his feet. ‘Henry, what are you doing here? You gave no notice of your coming.’

  ‘I did not want to risk being stopped at the coast. Are you not pleased to see me?’

  ‘It is always a joy to see you, but you have come at a dangerous time. You should not have risked yourself.’

  ‘It was no risk. I come well prepared and with a large escort.’

  ‘Who are these men?’

  ‘Mercenaries for the most part. I have promised them rich pickings when I am victorious.’

  ‘Victorious? You cannot mean to pit yourself against Stephen’s army.’

  ‘Of course. That is why I am here. I heard in Normandy that things were going badly for you and I thought it was time I took a hand.’

  She stared at him. He was what … fourteen, now. In the two years since he left he had grown from a boy to a young man. His shoulders were muscular under his tunic and there was the first hint of a beard among the freckles on his face. She remembered how impetuous he always was as a child. It was clear that he had not changed in that respect.

  ‘Henry, do you have your father’s permission to be here?’

  He shrugged and turned away. ‘I didn’t ask. He was away from Rouen, teaching some upstart vassal a lesson.’

  ‘So you have come with what … a handful of mercenaries … expecting to do what?’

  ‘I shall begin with Cricklade. I heard how treacherously it was handed over to Stephen. I mean to teach Philip a lesson.’

  For a moment she almost laughed. ‘My dear boy, you have no idea what you are saying. Philip of Gloucester is a traitor and a renegade, but he is also a most formidable commander, well seasoned in battle.’

  He moved away. ‘I do not care about his reputation. He should be punished for what he has done. God will fight on our side. My men are tired and hungry. Will you give orders for them to be fed and found accommodation?’

  She did as he asked. His band of followers was not as numerous as he would have her believe and her heart sank as she looked them over. She sent a rider to Br
istol to inform Robert of Henry’s arrival. Robert arrived the next day and there was a furious argument. He made the mistake of forbidding Henry outright to leave Devizes and threatened to inform Geoffrey in Normandy of his son’s disobedience. Henry flew into a rage and before she could intervene he summoned his men, ordered his horse to be saddled and rode out of the gates.

  ‘Go after him, Robert,’ she begged. ‘There is no knowing what his intentions are, but he spoke of attacking Cricklade.’

  ‘Then the boy is a fool,’ Robert responded, ‘and he will have to learn the consequences of his foolishness.’

  ‘Even if it means his death?’

  ‘They won’t kill him! He’s far too valuable as a hostage. But if he’s captured we may have to give up more than we should like to get him back. I can’t afford to risk my men on a fool’s errand like this. God’s blood! Why hasn’t Geoffrey taught the boy some sense?’

  For the first time she noticed that he had aged since the shock of Philip’s desertion. His hair was liberally flecked with grey and his eyes were more deeply sunken, surrounded by fine lines from screwing them up against wind and sun. It occurred to her that she had never asked him when he was born, or who his mother was. He must, she knew, be at least ten years older than she was. That was not an age to be spending all day in the saddle in full armour and leading men into battle. She did not press him further.

  She endured days of anguished suspense until one of her spies reported that Henry had been driven back from Cricklade but was now laying siege to Purton. Not long after that a bedraggled train of riders re-entered her castle, with Henry at its head. There were far fewer of them than when he arrived. He was unhurt, but exhausted and, she could see, close to tears. She waited until he had washed and eaten before she questioned him.

  ‘Those whoreson Flemish mercenaries!’ he exclaimed bitterly. ‘They broke and ran at the first charge. I offered them riches and honour and they deserted me when I most needed them.’