Henry of the High Rock

by Juliet Dymoke

  HENRY OF THE HIGH ROCK

  CONQUEROR TRILOGY

  BOOK 2

  JULIET DYMOKE

  First published in Great Britain in 1971 by Dobson Books Ltd.

  This edition published in 2016 by Three Castles Media Ltd.

  Three Castles Media Ltd

  Copyright © 2016 Juliet Dymoke

  The moral right of Juliet Dymoke to be identified as the author of this work has been

  asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

  or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any

  information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Jacket design by Fourteen Twentythree

  The main character in this book is a work of fiction and the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Other names, characters, businesses, organizations and places are based on actual historical events. In such cases, every effort has been made to make such information as accurate as possible.

  Three Castles Media Ltd hereby exclude all liability to the extent permitted by law for any errors or omissions in this book and for any loss, damage or expense (whether direct or indirect) suffered by a third party relying on any information contained in this book.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For Dick and Edith Stacey

  PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

  William I – King of England and Duke of Normandy, about sixty years of age at the beginning of the story.

  Robert Curthose – His eldest son, a rebel against his father and in exile.

  William Rufus – Third son to the Conqueror and most devoted to him.

  Henry Beauclerc – Fourth son to the Conqueror, born on English soil after his father became King.

  Odo – Bishop of Bayeux and half brother to the King; also Earl of Kent in which capacity he caused his brother to arrest him.

  Robert of Mortain – Also half brother to the King.

  William of Mortain – Son to the above.

  Lanfranc – Archbishop of Canterbury and former Abbot of Bec, well into his eighties.

  Anselm – Abbot of Bec, renowned for his saintly life and close friend to King William.

  Gilbert – Bishop of Evreux, nicknamed ‘the Crane’ because of his excessive height and angular figure.

  Helias – Lord of La Fléche and later Count of Maine, close friend to Henry.

  Malcolm Cranmore – King of Scotland, married to St. Margaret, grand-daughter of Edmund Ironside.

  Roger of Montgomery – Earl of Shrewsbury, largest landowner in both England and Normandy. Lifelong friend to William the Conqueror.

  Robert of Bellême – His son, lord of Bellême which he received from his mother, the infamous Mabel/Mabille.

  Hugh Lupus – Earl of Chester and lord of Avranches, powerful baron on both sides of the channel. Nicknamed ‘Lupus’ because of the wolf’s head emblem on his shield.

  Stephen – Lord of Aumale, half brother to Judith, Countess of Northampton, widow of Earl Waltheof.

  Robert de Beaumont – Son of old Roger de Beaumont, and Count de Meulan, counsellor of both Rufus and Henry.

  Henry de Beaumont – His brother. Earl of Warwick in England, close friend to Henry.

  Simon of Senlis – Earl of Huntingdon, husband of Maud, daughter of Earl Waltheof.

  William of Warenne – Earl of Surrey, enemy of Henry.

  William of Breteuil – Son of William FitzOsbern, who was friend and cousin of the Conqueror. His elder brother, Roger, is in lifelong imprisonment for rebelling against the Conqueror in 1076.

  Gilbert of Clare – Earl of Tonbridge, wealthy landowner in East Anglia and Kent, keen supporter of Henry.

  Roger of Clare – His brother.

  Richard of Redvers – Norman lord of moderate importance, close friend to Henry and later given much land in England.

  Robert Fitzhamon – In the service of William Rufus, given lands that should have gone to Henry, but later faithful to Henry.

  Ralph de Toeni – Son of Ralph de Toeni, lord of Conches.

  Roger de Marmion – Son of Robert de Marmion, holder of the honour of Scrivelsby in Lincolnshire, and Lord of Fautenoy le Marmion in Normandy.

  Hugh of Grandmesnil – One time Sheriff of Leicester, powerful baron, fought at Hastings.

  Richard de Rules – Lord of Deeping in Lincolnshire, chamberlain to both King William I and William Rufus.

  Roger the Priest – Taken into Henry’s service and accompanied him into exile. Later raised by Henry to become Bishop of Salisbury.

  Eudo Dapifer – Steward to both the Conqueror and Rufus, always friendly to Henry.

  Richard Harecher – Wealthy Merchant and citizen of Domfront in the southern part of Normandy.

  Maud – Countess of Northampton and Huntingdon, daughter of Earl Waltheof and married to Simon of Senlis.

  Alice – Her younger sister, later to marry Ralph de Toeni.

  Judith – The dowager Countess of Northampton, widow of Earl Waltheof and niece to the Conqueror.

  Eadgyth – Daughter of King Malcolm and Queen Margaret of Scotland, and great-granddaughter of Edmund Ironside.

  Mary – Her younger sister.

  David – Their younger brother, many years later to be King of Scotland.

  Christina – Prioress of Romsey Abbey near Winchester. Sister to Queen Margaret and aunt to Eadgyth.

  Edgar Atheling – Brother to Margaret and Christina, the last Englishman of the ancient line of Cerdic, but long past any hope of the Crown. Close friend to Robert Curthose.

  Herluin la Barre – He is composed of three characters of whom little or nothing is known – the knight from the country, named Herluin, who paid for the care and transport of the corpse of William the Conqueror; the unknown single knight who accompanied Henry into exile; and the possible unknown knight whom some chroniclers thought might have been responsible for the killing of Rufus.

  Henry’s Mistresses

  Alide of Caen – Mother of Henry’s eldest son, Robert, and probably a daughter. Her name is uncertain.

  Nest – A Welsh girl whom he probably met on his first visit to Cardiff.

  Amaldis – A fictitious character to represent the girl who probably occupied him in Domfront.

  Ansfrida – Widow of Anskill the Saxon, whom Henry took into his household after she had appealed to him for help over some legal quarrel. Mother of his son, Richard, later to drown in the famous White Ship.

  Eadgyth – A Saxon woman living in London, possibly the daughter of Wigod of Wallingford.

  Fictitious Characters

  Raoul the Deer – Henry’s marshal in charge of his horses.

  Hamo – Henry’s standard bearer.

  Gulfer – His falconer. (These three based on the three men who accompanied him into exile.)

  Fulcher and Walter – Henry’s pages

  Author’s note: Although complete in itself, HENRY OF THE HIGH ROCK forms the second book of a projected trilogy which began with OF THE RING OF EARLS.

  ‘ . . .this witty and genial man, not so much an emperor or King as the father of his people.’

  Walter Map

  ‘He was a good man and was held in great awe. In his days no man dared to wrong another. He made peace for man and deer.’

  Anglo Saxon Chronicle

  PART I

  THE ROCK OF THE ARCHANGEL

  SEPTEMBER-DECEMBER 1087

  CHAPTER 1

  The sound of a horn erupting into the morning stillness tumbled Henry from the bed. It wa
s no more than a rough straw pallet with a wool covering, the only bed this poor dwelling boasted, but the girl had been attractive enough to entice him here last night.

  Fumbling for his shirt and tight-fitting hose he glanced down at her. She was still sleeping and he saw now that without the rushlight to lend enchantment she was rather a plain girl with irregular features; only her thick brown hair was beautiful, lying in scattered strands about their shared pillow. As he flung his tunic over his head she stirred and opened her eyes.

  When she saw he was dressed she stared at him, blinking sleepily. ‘Are you going, my lord? Is it dawn already?’

  The shutters were still fastened, but he nodded his head. ‘It must be, sweeting, for the horn has sounded from the castle. We’re away to teach the French King his manners.’ He bent to kiss her. She had been good to love last night and he hoped they might march back this way when the fighting was done.

  She put her arm about his neck, holding him, and with one hand pushed the soft black hair from his forehead. It habitually fell forward over his eyes and she smiled a little, twisting her fingers in the thick strands. ‘Will you come back, lord?’

  He kissed her again, lightly this time. ‘Perhaps,’ and he added, ‘maybe to see if I’ve fathered a little bastard. In the meantime here’s a purse that should keep you comfortable for a while.’ She giggled, her eyes lighting greedily at the sound of the clinking coins as she tucked it beneath her pillow. ‘God keep you, my lord. I shall pray to Our Lady for your safe return.’

  He fastened his mantle on one shoulder, aware now that the cottage smelled of unwashed bodies, stale cooking and animal dung, for there were two goats tethered in the far corner. He nodded briefly at the man and his wife who were sitting up, yawning, on the pile of straw where they had slept, yielding their bed to the girl and her royal lover.

  ‘Your daughter has a purse,’ he said and went out into the fresh morning air.

  It was a bright day, the sun already up with a promise of heat. It had been a dry August and the corn was standing high and yellow in the fields as they rode south yesterday – there would be a good harvest, he thought, but not for the people of the Vexin who had dared to flout his father. Outside, his young page, Fulcher, still lay asleep, rolled in his mantle by the wall of the house and Henry kicked him gently to wake him.

  ‘Come, boy, did you not hear the horn? We must hurry or my father will have our hides stretched out in the sun.’

  Fulcher sat up, rubbing his eyes and grinning, appreciating this for a joke but one which his master would not have made in King William’s hearing. After twenty years as King of England and thirty-two before that as Duke of Normandy no one made jests with impunity about the great Conqueror’s antecedents, nor the fact that his maternal grandfather had been a tanner in Falaise. Only the King of France had dared to make a worse joke, a cruel and tasteless joke at William’s expense, that sent the Normans marching south into the disputed territory of the Vexin. From William’s sons, Henry and his elder brother Rufus, down to the lowest man-at-arms war with the French both on account of the jest and the dispute over the land was a just war.

  He stood impatiently in the sun while Fulcher brought his horse, a big muscled creature with gentle eyes and a soft mouth. Henry fondled him, smoothing the silky coat. His father had loved the stag, some said inordinately, but he loved all animals and despite his haste spent a moment gentling the destrier before mounting. Then, with Fulcher behind him on his palfrey, he rode down the lane and into the main street of the little town of Andeley. There was activity everywhere now, men hurrying from the dwellings where they had found quarters for the night, the cavalry assembling before the gates on the flat ground, the horses impatient to be moving on this bright day, the foot soldiers standing about, leaning on their spears, talking, awaiting their leaders.

  Henry reined in his horse, calling to his friend Ralph de Toeni, who was with a contingent of men from his father’s land of Conches. Ralph had a horn of ale in his hand and was munching a piece of fresh crusty bread. He returned the Prince’s greeting. ‘We’ve a good day for our march.’

  ‘Well enough,’ Henry said, ‘but it will be hot later. For the love of heaven, give me a drink. I’m as dry as an empty barrel.’ Ralph handed him the horn, laughing. ‘There’s nothing like a lusty night for giving a man a thirst. Here, boy,’ he called to a lad hovering a few yards away. ‘Fetch some food for Prince Henry, and hurry.’

  The boy scampered off and Henry sat drinking, his eyes on the busy scene. ‘Are they ready up there?’ He jerked his head towards the castle keep.

  Ralph shrugged. ‘I saw your brother a while ago but your father was still at his prayers when I came down. The Bishop is inclined to be lengthy about his business.’

  The boy had returned with some slices of meat and thick pieces of bread and Henry ate hungrily, realising how empty his stomach was. ‘Gilbert the Crane always was a long-winded fellow as well as being long-shanked. Give me a priest who can say Mass speedily for men under arms.’ He brushed the crumbs from his hands. ‘Well, I’m off to find my fellows. God keep you, Ralph. I saw your father yesterday, but I trust your mother has not donned her hauberk to ride with us?’

  Ralph laughed, for the lady of Conches’ warlike temperament was famous. ‘Thank God we left her for once at work with her needle.’

  Henry waved his hand and rode on up the slope of the bailey. He liked Ralph, a lanky young man with bright blue eyes that reflected his amiable disposition. When he had something to offer, Henry thought, he would offer it to Ralph. A wave of unusual bitterness swept over him. By Christ’s Cross, when would he have anything to offer? He suppressed the resentment, a resentment he revealed to no one, not even to Ralph nor to his other close friend, Richard of Redvers, and entering the inner bailey gave all his attention to the day’s needs.

  The place was swarming with men and horses, everyone shouting orders or calling out to their friends; accoutrements jingled and weapons sounded as men prepared their swords and spears, shields and helms for the coming fight. Already a dozen or more gonfanons fluttered in the light wind, distinguishing the great houses – Montgomery and Bellême inseparably,

  Grandmesnil, Ivry, Giffard and Breteuil, Conches and Aumale – and Robert, eldest son of the house of Beaumont, leaned out of the saddle to greet the Prince. Robert was some twenty years his senior, a stern man, but wise and thought by most to be a just lord to his knights and vassals, and he had recently acquired from his mother’s lands the title of Count de Meulan. Between him and Henry, despite the gap of years, there was considerable liking; his younger brother, another Henry and Earl of Warwick in England, was an even closer friend and Henry had spent many pleasant days at Beaumont-le-Roger where the old lord, Roger, still lived, white haired and venerable, dispensing a renowned hospitality.

  ‘Please God today will give your father a victory,’ Robert said. ‘The French King’s jest touched him too closely.’

  ‘I know.’ Henry stood for a moment watching the impressive gathering of Norman nobles. ‘Philip is a fool and sly too, and I pity the French who must suffer him. He may be my father’s suzerain but at least we don’t have to swallow his insults.’

  ‘We are only taking back what belongs to Normandy,’ Robert said in his deep strong voice. His own father remembered clearly the signing of the treaty between Philip’s father, old King Henry, and Duke Robert the Magnificent, by which the Vexin became Norman property, a treaty which King Henry broke when the Duke died and his son William was a mere child and a bastard at that. Now William would take the land back, conquer it as he had conquered first his duchy and its rebellious barons and then England and the English. Robert of Beaumont’s house had remained loyal to William from the moment of Duke Robert’s death and Robert did not now question the Conqueror’s right to make war on France. ‘As your father said, we will light enough candles at Mantes for the whole of France to see his churching.’

  Henry’s face darkened. He did not perha
ps love their father as William Rufus did, but moderate filial affection and family loyalty burned in him to avenge the French King’s insult. All summer William had stayed quietly at his palace at Rouen following the diet recommended by his physicians, but his corpulence, the huge stomach he had developed over the last years, did not lessen and gave rise to Philip’s disgusting joke that the King of England was lying in. Well, he would repent that remark in blood, Henry thought, for every loyal man was angry now, both Normans and the English who had followed their King overseas to fight in his army. His father might not be loved by many but he was respected by all for the stern rule that had put an end to disorder and made the name of Normandy renowned throughout Europe.