‘Why so many men?’
Robert was very diplomatic.
‘I couldn’t keep them away; they all want to see you crowned.’
When I explained my fears to Robert, he concurred.
‘I heard in Oxford that Stephen’s wife, Mathilde, is raising a substantial body of men to attack London from her base in Kent. There is a conspiracy afoot. I’m sure Bishop Henry is involved, as well as William of Ypres – who deserted the field at Lincoln.’
‘If he’s involved, that means Flemish mercenaries. But where are they getting the money from?’
Robert smiled at me, as if to say, ‘Aren’t you being a bit naive?’
Then I realized.
‘The rich men of London!’
‘Well done. Their loyalty to the Queen cannot be guaranteed – I fear they would easily betray her, if it would turn a profit for them.’
‘I’ll post my own guards to keep an eye on the royal guards.’
‘Good idea! I’m very pleased that Maud has you by her side. Keep her safe these coming days.’
I embraced Robert and thanked him. Although we were not in fact brothers, we had become close allies in Maud’s cause and both knew we would give our lives to defend her.
On 24 June, late in the afternoon, we were preparing for a grand banquet at Westminster. It was to be a feast to celebrate two vital breakthroughs. Firstly, the Archbishop of Canterbury had agreed a date for the coronation, on Saturday 26 July, and preparations were well under way. Secondly, a grand regal procession was to take place through the streets of London on the following day, 25 June, when the date of the coronation would be announced.
News of the Archbishop’s agreement had come as an unexpected surprise to Robert and me – and even more so, the procession organized by London’s burgesses. But they were pleasant surprises, and all Maud’s supporters had gathered to enjoy an evening of rejoicing. Miles of Gloucester had arrived, as had Brien FitzCount and Ranulf of Chester.
All of Maud’s royal household and officials – who seemed to have warmed to her diligence and thoughtfulness – were invited, and all appeared to have fully accepted her succession. The fact that she did not suffer fools was not, in their eyes, a weakness – in fact, quite the reverse. Also, her honesty and fairness in judgement were a refreshing change from the partiality and nepotism that had been typical of the recent past.
The Great Hall at the Palace of Westminster was beginning to fill with guests when alarm bells were heard to ring. They were the distant bells of London, drifting across Lambeth Moor and the nearby Thames. I hoped the bells signalled a domestic issue, such as a fire. But almost immediately messengers came running in to announce that a large force, led by William of Ypres and Stephen’s wife, the Countess Mathilde, had laid waste to a vast swathe of Kent and had entered London across Stephen’s new bridge from Southwark.
Within minutes, we had more news. The church bells were ringing the alarm as far west as St Clement Danes in the Strand, and an armed mob was pouring out of London at Ludgate, burning and looting as it went.
Robert and I agreed that he would rush his men to Charing at the end of the Strand and hold the mob there, while I got Maud away to Oxford, where we would rendezvous in two days’ time.
It was a near-run thing. I summoned a small escort of only a dozen knights. Maud and Greta barely had enough time to change their clothes. As Otto and Berenger helped the ladies on to their mounts, Eadmer grabbed the royal seals, the keys to the Treasury and King Edward’s crown, while I ran to the gates of the palace to check the situation up the hill at Charing. Robert had formed up his knights to block the road, but men armed with an array of weapons were already streaming through the fields on either side to outflank them. The mob seemed to be hundreds strong, if not thousands. Miles, Ranulf, Brien and their escorts formed another cordon at the gates of the palace, but the crowds just washed around them like waves over pebbles on the seashore.
With Otto and Berenger flanking the women, Eadmer took the rear and I led the vanguard as we rode through the west gate of the palace with only minutes to spare. We kept close to the river, but even before we reached the Manor of Neate – within a stone’s throw from the palace – we could hear the frenzied cries of the mob and the dreadful sounds of the wanton destruction behind us.
We rode most of the night and were safely inside the walls of Oxford Castle late the following afternoon. As soon as Robert joined us, we tried to make sense of what had happened. Miles and Ranulf had rushed back to their castles, but Miles sent word – based on rumours he had heard while at Westminster – that it was a plot which had been many weeks in the hatching.
Robert sat Maud down and gave her his interpretation.
‘Bishop Henry has changed horses again. After Winchester, when he thought you could be easily manipulated, he was happy to endorse you. But after you denied him and Mathilde their petitions, he changed his mind. London turned against you as soon as you stood up to them – again, they thought you would be a malleable Dowager Queen for many years until Henry was of an age.
‘Much the same applies to the earls and landowners. They don’t mind a queen, as long as she doesn’t act like a king. That mob from London had been worked into a frenzy; purses of silver and free barrels of ale would have been at the back of that. I wager that every ne’er-do-well in the burgh would have been recruited. I saw stevedores with billhooks, young farmers wielding pitchforks, and even apprentice masons brandishing their mallets.’
Robert had voiced what was now obvious to all of us.
Maud did not seem angry or disappointed – rather, she remained determined.
‘Well, whether they like it or not, this Queen is going to fight like a king for what is right. How quickly can we gather an army?’
‘To what end?’
‘To march on Winchester.’
‘Is that wise?’
‘It may not be. But I intend to make Bishop Henry pay for his duplicity!’
Robert looked at me, clearly concerned. He was no doubt hoping that I would advise Maud to be cautious.
‘Maud, it may be wise to go back to Gloucester and assess the situation from there –’
‘I know it’s a risk. But if we can snare Henry and put him where Stephen is, it will send a clear message that I will not be denied.’
Maud’s strategy was bold; it was dangerous, but it could be a vital blow. Henry’s duplicity was there for all to see. Maud had every right to challenge him.
Robert nodded his approval.
Maud smiled at us both.
‘Thank you, Gentlemen; let’s go and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat!’
Robert, who was always up for a fight, quickly warmed to the idea.
‘I will ride to Bristol and bring more men. I will also send word for Ranulf, Miles and Brien to join us. Let us agree to meet at Andover on the fourth Sunday in July.’
31. Winchester in Flames
Maud donned her campaigning clothes for the attack on Winchester, which we launched on 31 July 1141. She rode out at the front of the column, her hair flowing in the wind. She refused armour, but wore a thick leather jerkin similar to the ones used by archers. Under the jerkin she had a heavy woollen smock and wore cavalrymen’s leggings and boots. Otto and Berenger flanked her and had strict instructions to get her to the rear of the column at the first hint of danger.
She was a great inspiration to the men, and I tried to think of a precedent. I could come up with only one warrior queen in our history – a figure from the distant past that my mother had told me about – Queen Boudicca, widow of Prasutagus, King of the Iceni, one of the ancient tribes who had fought the Romans.
Robert, Brien, Miles, Ranulf and I rode behind her in line ab
reast, leading over 100 knights and almost 1,000 infantry and archers. Eadmer carried my colours and Robert’s standard-bearer held Maud’s new colours. She had chosen them as monarch, a variation on mine: three golden lions rampant, one each for England, Normandy and Anjou, on a gules field. Her colours symbolized everything about her.
We had three objectives at Winchester: the burgh, where the Treasury was located; the old castle, to the west within the burgh’s walls; and Bishop Henry’s new castle, Wolvesey, on the eastern side of the settlement. When we arrived from the west, we found the city gates open and were able to ride in with ease. But as we did so, we saw that Bishop Henry had broken into the Royal Treasury and emptied it. He and his entourage had then escaped to the east, leaving his garrison to defend his episcopal castle. It was a well-built fortification, and we prepared for a long siege.
The castellan of the old fortress, built in the time of Maud’s grandfather, readily opened its gates to us, and we made it our base for the assault on Wolvesey. I also asked Eadmer to organize patrols to see if they could track down Bishop Henry.
Two days later, early in the morning, we woke with the smell of acrid smoke in our nostrils and the sound of anguished screams in our ears. Maud and I reached the window of our chamber together. We looked out over Winchester and all we could see were plumes of black smoke rising from the burgh, peppered with spits of bright flame.
Eadmer started to bang on the door.
‘Hurry! Henry’s men are burning the burgh. They slunk out of the castle under cover of darkness, throwing flaming brands everywhere.’
It was a frightening scene. People were running in all directions, some already consumed by flames ignited by the intense heat. Buildings close to those already ablaze seemed to burst into flame spontaneously, giving the unfortunate people in the streets between them no chance of escape from the inferno.
Thankfully, we were safe behind the stone perimeter of our fortified position, but most of the burgh of Winchester was destroyed; all that remained intact were the two stone-built fortresses and the cathedral.
People started to leave before dusk that day; by the afternoon of the next day, the burgh was a deserted and charred shell.
It was a callous act; Bishop Henry had ordered the burning of his own burgh. But it was also astute. He had denied us shelter for the army, provisions for men and horses, and entertainment in the taverns and whorehouses.
I called an urgent meeting of our High Command.
‘If we make camp outside the walls of the burgh, we will have no protection from attack. If we choose to stay within the walls, we will have to begin to clear the ground immediately.’
There was a consensus: we had to camp within the walls and continue the siege of Wolvesey. We began the task in earnest, but it was a frustrating process. All we could do was proceed with the tactics of attrition.
We sealed the fortress and began the long patient wait of siege warfare.
Two weeks later, with the siege still in its early days, Eadmer’s sentries, still searching for Bishop Henry, reported that the roads around Winchester were blockaded by the men of Mathilde and William of Ypres.
I immediately despatched Eadmer.
‘I need a full report. Go around the blockades, I need to know what Mathilde and William are up to.’
It took Eadmer two days to complete his reconnaissance. When he returned, he brought unwelcome news. I called everyone together to hear his report.
‘Ma’am, the Countess of Boulogne is camped at Stoke on the Itchen with an army led by William of Ypres. They are mainly Bretons, with Flemish mercenaries. But there are also several squadrons of the London militia who, I am ashamed to say, are mainly Englishmen. I estimate two hundred knights and at least two thousand infantry, including archers and crossbowmen. Henry of Blois, Bishop of Winchester, is with Countess Mathilde.’
Brien FitzCount could contain himself no longer at the mention of Bishop Henry’s name.
‘What a bastard! He has a remarkable gift for discovering that his duty always points in the same direction as his self-interest!’
Even in the midst of the gloomy news, we could not fail but smile at Brien’s sardonic turn of phrase.
Eadmer finished his report with two more pieces of grim news.
‘All the roads are closed, nothing can get in or out of Winchester. And their army is beginning to break camp – they will be on the march tomorrow.’
Earl Robert stood and began to pace the floor.
‘How far away is Stoke?’
‘Eight miles, my Lord.’
‘Well, it seems we’re snared in our own trap. We can’t get an army the size of ours inside this bailey and then feed them. And we can’t hold the burgh’s wooden ramparts, most of which have been damaged by the flames, against an army the size of Mathilde’s. We’ve also got to think of Henry’s garrison inside Wolvesey; they will be an additional problem.’
He looked at me, almost plaintively. I nodded, signalling that I concurred with the only obvious solution. He spoke on behalf of us both.
‘Ma’am, you must get out tonight under cover of darkness – you, Greta and your Lotharingians. Earl Harold will get you away with Eadmer, just the six of you. Take some horses, but no regal trappings. I will hold the fortress here to give you time to get away. Hopefully you will be secure in the west by the time they realize you’ve gone. Ranulf, I suggest you take your men north to Chester, break through the blockade; we’ll need your men for another day. Brien, you should do the same. Go to your castle at Wallingford; it is our most eastern outpost. If you can hold it, it will remain a thorn in Mathilde’s side. Miles, you and your men will stay here with me.’
‘Of course, my Lord. It will be an honour.’
Maud stood; her hopes and dreams were in tatters. She took several deep breaths before addressing us.
‘My Lords, I am grateful to you all. The last few weeks have not gone well for us. Stephen is still being financed from Flanders, and I suspect he also receives support from the King of France. Now it seems the London merchants are lending him their silver too. But I will not give in; with your support, I will fight on.’
She kissed and embraced each of us, then beckoned to Greta.
I issued final instructions before the ladies took their leave.
‘Greta, we depart at midnight. You must prepare only two bags each. Eadmer, you are to look after King Edward’s crown and the great seals. You can leave the keys; the Treasury has already been ransacked.’
Once again, I thought about our cause. Maud’s success was under serious threat and the once proud burgh of Winchester, old King Edward’s favourite place, was a charred cinder, its people destitute.
They were paying a high price, as was England.
We rode all night, finding some rest at John FitzGilbert’s castle at Luggershall, then on to Devizes and finally to Gloucester, where Greta and Maud collapsed in total exhaustion.
Ten days later, Miles of Gloucester appeared. He was alive, but was in a sorry state – he had lost his armour and his weapons, he was naked from the waist up, and his horse was spent. Eadmer and I helped him into the Great Hall, gave him a cloak and seated him in front of the fire. We gave him food and a flagon of wine. He waited for Maud to arrive, before giving us his account.
‘I’m afraid I had a difficult journey back, ma’am, so please forgive my appearance. I became separated from my knights and was pursued all the way across Salisbury Plain. I had to go to ground to get away. Winchester was a rout. When William and Mathilde’s army appeared, they swept over the walls of the burgh like a tidal bore. We had to abandon our position and attempt a fighting retreat to the north-west. We made a stand at Stockbridge and held our ground for a while
. In the midst of their onslaught, an old friend rode into our lines. David, King of Scotland, had been on his way to support you at Winchester with two hundred knights. To his immense credit, when he heard of our plight, instead of returning home, he rode to our aid. His men bought us some time, but we were still overwhelmed.
‘We formed a final redoubt, but it was futile; men fell in droves until I counted our number as only a few dozen. King David managed to get away with a bodyguard of knights. My Captain put me on a horse before he was cut down, but I don’t think Earl Robert made it. The last time I saw him, he was surrounded by Flemish knights; I fear the worst.’
Maud sat by Miles and cradled his head in her lap. It was a touching moment. She summoned the stewards.
‘Take this brave man to his chamber!’
That evening, Maud and I had a heart to heart. She sat on my knee in front of the fire, looking forlorn. When she spoke, her question was candid.
‘Is our game over, my darling?’
‘Not quite. You’ve still got Stephen cooped up in Bristol. As long as you have him, the game is still on.’
‘But we are in retreat and our position looks bleak. My chance has gone; we have suffered enough, the people have suffered enough. I want to rule a strong and peaceful land, but England is in ruins.’
‘I admit that our situation is not ideal, but we’ve come so far. Don’t abandon hope yet.’
‘I don’t feel as strong as you. Help me, Hal. Lend me some of your courage.’
‘You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met; you don’t need to borrow anything from me. While you live and the boys live, your cause – and that of England – is still alive.’
‘Thank you, Hal. I love you very much.’
I carried her to our bed, where she eventually fell asleep, leaving me to reflect on our future.
It was true, we were still in the game, but the odds were swinging against us. I knew that Maud missed the boys more and more with every passing day. At least there was one small crumb of comfort: we had been about to send word to Argentan for them to be brought to Westminster for Maud’s coronation. But thankfully, that never happened; recent events would have been impossible to bear, had they been with us. I started to drift off to sleep and, as I did so, I longed to be in St Cirq Lapopie with our boys.
Anarchy Page 38
