by H A CULLEY
‘Thank you Hugo! A man with a sensible suggestion at last.’
The king nodded towards Hugo de Cuille and the latter smiled a little uncomfortably at William’s praise. He had never forgiven the king for depriving him of his manor at Burneham, where he had originally planned to spend his declining years. True, he had land in Northumberland instead, but he had had to work hard for what he now held, and continually fight to keep it.
The next morning Robert de Mowbray was brought in chains to a spot just out of arrow range, but in full view of the castle walls. He was forced to kneel in the mud and the king rode up beside him before nodding to his herald.
‘My lady,’ the latter bellowed towards the castle, ‘the most puissant and noble prince, King William of England, demands that you surrender this castle forthwith and throw open its gates. If you do this the garrison may leave the castle, without weapons but unharmed. If you do not, then the eyes of your husband will be put out and his tongue shall be cut from his mouth. Furthermore the lives of everyone in the castle will be forfeit. You have until noon to pull down the de Mowbray banner and throw open the gates.’
By nightfall the de Vesci banner flew over the keep and de Mowbray was on his way to a dungeon, where he would spend the rest of his life.
Chapter Thirteen – Duke of Normandy
1096
‘Why has the Pope agreed to this?’
Guillaume Peverel shrugged. ‘Probably to force the emperor into a corner. If Henry refuses to support the crusade to win back the Holy Land from the Saracens, then it makes him look both irreligious and at odds with the rest of Christian Europe.’
Pope Urban had launched a crusade towards the end of the previous year in response to an appeal from the Byzantine Emperor, who had appealed for western volunteers come to his aid and help him to repel the invading Seljuk Turks from Anatolia. However, Urban had added an additional goal which soon became the principal objective — the Christian re-conquest of the Holy Land, including the sacred city of Jerusalem, which was under Muslim rule.
The Holy Roman Emperor, Henry the Fourth, still supported the anti-pope, Clement, against Urban and this move of the Pope’s was intended to isolate both men. It seemed to be working as support for the crusade was growing and now Robert Curthose had announced his intention of taking the Cross.
Guillaume and Hugo were once again sitting in the great hall of Peverel Castle. Hugo had returned to Derbyshire after the capture of Bamburgh Castle the previous autumn, which signalled the effective end of the revolt. Hugo had left Tristan in charge of his northern manors and he and Hièrru had moved into Harbottle Castle.
Hugo had become a grandfather the previous year when Richard de Cuille had been born to his son Robert, but he had only seen his grandson once, at his baptism. He decided he wanted to see the boy grow up before he left to become a page. Besides, it was time that he and Edith thought of themselves for a change and enjoyed the remaining years he had left. Herbert had elected to remain in the north as Tristan’s steward and, although it was normal for a lord’s steward to look after all his manors, Hugo decided that it made more sense for him to appoint another man to look after his lands in Derbyshire, rather than make Herbert travel to and fro.
Wulfric had returned with him as part of his small mesnie and he now sent for him. After making small talk for a few minutes Hugo had raised the question of the stewardship of his four manors in the High Peak. All had competent bailiffs but he still needed someone to collect his dues from the manors, keep the accounts, investigate disputes, run the manor courts and supervise the work of the bailiffs.
Hathersage had its own lord, who held the tenancy of the manor from Hugo, but he had kept Hope and Edale in his own hands and someone would have to look after Peak’s Cavern until Leofric was old enough to take responsibility. The steward still had a role in regard to Hathersage too, to make sure that the scutage due to him was collected.
Although his son Robert was the constable of Peverel Castle now, he still preferred to meet Guillaume there rather than in his rather spartan hall at Edale. Wulfric had moved into Herbert’s old house in the village which, in truth, wasn’t that inferior to the hall as far as comfort went. Hugo was envious of the fireplaces set into the walls on the great hall at the castle and was starting to plan something similar for Edale, which still had an old fashioned central hearth. The solar didn’t even have that, making do with a brazier that filled the room with smoke.
‘Who will Robert leave in charge in Normandy whilst he’s away on crusade,’ Hugo asked, dragging his thoughts back to what Guillaume was saying.
He moved his leg on the stool in front of him to try and get it more comfortable. He had suffered a riding accident a few days previously, twisting his knee, and it was still recovering
The other man laughed. ‘Would you believe that he intends to appoint the king as his regent whilst he’s away; he apparently doesn’t trust Henry Beauclerc. Of course, he wanted a surety of ten thousand marks from William to ensure he returns his duchy to him when he returns, but I hear he’s already spent that on preparations for the crusade, so it isn’t entirely clear how he’s going to repay it when, and if, he returns.’
‘He doesn’t trust Henry but he does William Rufus? I always thought he had poor judgement; now I certain of it. He can’t rely either of his brothers. They’d both stab him in the back, given half a chance. ’
‘Fortunately, it’s not our problem as neither of us have land in Normandy.’
At that moment Robert came into the hall, throwing his rain soaked cloak to his squire and coming over to warm himself up by the fire. He gave a brief bow to Guillaume as his overlord and smiled at his father.
Before Robert could say anything the door between the hall and the circular staircase that led to the solar and the bedchambers above opened and a girl of about sixteen entered the hall carrying a boy just over a year old. Robert moved away from the warmth of the fire and embraced his wife and son.
‘How was Roland?’ she asked.
Robert had been over to Hathersage to see the lord of the manor there who had been Hugo’s squire at one stage. Roland was nearly fifty now and quite ill. He had two sons, the elder of whom, Hamo, now ran the manor. The other had joined the mesnie of Earl of Salisbury when he was knighted and hadn’t been seen by his father since. Hamo had married the daughter of yet another of Hugo’s former squires – Ralph – but, as yet, they didn’t have any children.
Hugo had planned to go over and see Roland himself but, as he found it painful to ride any distance at the moment, he had asked Robert to go in his place.
‘He’s slowly deteriorating, I’m afraid.’
He turned to his father.
‘I doubt very much if he’ll last much longer. I know your knee is still stiff and swollen, father, but, if you want to see him one last time….’ His voice trailed away, seeing the sorrow in Hugo’s eyes.
‘The trouble with growing old,’ Guillaume observed, ‘is not so much the increased pain and infirmity we suffer, but watching our circle of friends slowly diminish as we live on.’
Hugo nodded. He remembered when he had first seen Roland as a boy of thirteen. Guillaume’s supposed father, Viscount Peverel, had brought him with him to Caen to serve Hugo’s father as his squire when both he and Guillaume had been banished from Normandy and sent to England in the days of Edward the Confessor. When Hugo’s father had regained the family estate in Maine by marrying its new heiress he decided that he no longer needed a squire and Roland had joined the newly knighted Hugo. In some ways it had seemed like only yesterday but in others it was all so long ago now.
‘I’ll try and visit him soon, as soon as I can ride comfortably again.’ He paused. ‘No, dammit; I’ll visit him tomorrow. My twisted knee is only uncomfortable, not life threatening. I don’t want to risk him dying before I see him one last time.’
It was a beautiful summer’s day when Hugo set out with just Edwin for company. The boy had proved to be a m
ore than adequate squire, though his military training was not progressing as well as Hugo would have liked. The boy was tall for his age and somewhat gangling. He was awkward and tripped over his own feet on occasion. Ah well, Hugo thought, he’ll soon grow out of this stage – at least he hoped so or the boy would never become a knight.
He glanced up at the heather covered hills that lined both sides of the Hope Valley with the odd clump of trees dotted here and there. Lower down the slopes turned into pasture on which sheep and cattle grazed. At his home in Edale the pasture land was mainly given over to horses as Hugo bred both war horses – destriers and coursers – and riding horses like palfreys and jennets. It was proving to be a very lucrative business.
He rode through the strips of land that surrounded Hathersage, acknowledging the greetings of the villagers as they tended the ground with wooden hoes to keep it free of weeds prior to the harvest. He was pleased to note that Hamo and his bailiff were keeping the houses of the villeins and the hovels of the bondsmen in good repair. He hadn’t been to Hathersage for several years – not since he had first gone north - so he was pleasantly surprised to see that the old timber church had been replaced by a new stone building. It was modest in size but it was a good indication of the prosperity of the manor.
He rode through gate in the palisade surrounding the hall house and to his astonishment he saw that the old timber hall had been replaced by a new building. This consisted of a stone lower floor, which presumably housed the bakery, kitchens and storerooms, and a timber framed wattle and daub upper floor with two stone chimneys, one built into one wall of the hall and the other into the end wall, where the solar was located presumably. The upper floor was accessed via a stone staircase built against the wall facing him. He nodded his head in approval. It would make the hall very difficult to attack, especially as using a battering ram against the stout entrance door would be impossible.
A stable boy came running to take the horses and Hugo dismounted slowly and carefully with Edwin’s help. He winced as he put weight on his twisted knee and had to lean on his squire’s shoulder as he limped over to the steps. As he reached the bottom Hamo appeared from inside the hall with his bailiff. Both were burly men and they hurried down to practically carry Hugo up to the entrance.
‘Thank you Hamo. That was a trifle undignified but I’m grateful for your help. You too Wulfstan,’ he added smiling at the bailiff. ‘How’s your father today?’ he asked, turning back to Hamo.
‘Still sleeping at the moment. He’s in considerable pain and so my wife gave him a strong potion last night.’
As Hamo spoke his wife, Eleanor, came out of door from the solar at the far end of the hall and smiled when she saw Hugo.
‘It’s good to see you, Sir Hugo. Thank you for coming. Sir Roland will be pleased to see you.’
Eleanor was the daughter of Ralph, another of his former squires, and one who had saved the life of Robert de Bellême, the son of the Earl of Shrewsbury and a powerful noble in his own right. Robert was known as a cruel man and had been an enemy of Hugo’s long ago. Their antagonism came to an end when Ralph and Sweyn rescued him from dying of hypothermia during the winter march across the Pennines to take Chester; the event which was generally taken as marking the end of William the Bastard’s conquest of England. De Bellême had been duly grateful and was reconciled with Hugo. Although only a squire to the king at the time, de Bellême had powerful friends, even as a boy, and his enmity could well have ended in Hugo’s death, had it had continued.
De Bellême was a supporter of Robert Curthose and spent most of his time in Normandy. However, now that the latter was going on crusade, there were rumours that he was trying to make his peace with William Rufus.
Hugo sat down by the empty hearth. Despite the fact that it was a hot summer so far, the great hall in the castle was always cold. The sun was never able to heat up the stones enough for it to penetrate to the interior. Here though, the timber frame filled with lattices of wattle into which clay daub had been pressed absorbed the warmth of the sun and it radiated through to the interior. He decided that it was time he did something similar at Edale.
Eleanor left again to see if her father-in-law was awake yet and Hamo joined Hugo as his squire brought in two goblets of wine and a servant set down a pewter platter of bread and cheese. Although Hugo had broken his fast at Castle Peverel, he tucked into the bread and cheese with gusto. The morning ride had given him an appetite.
When he went into the solar to see Roland he was shocked by his appearance. He had been handsome as a young man and, unlike many another, he had kept his good looks well into middle and old age. Now though he looked gaunt and haggard. His cheeks were grey and sunken and his eyes were rheumy. The folds of skin hung on his neck and his hair was thin and almost white.
Hugo tried to hold back his tears when he saw the state of his old friend but he smiled to hide the shock he felt at the man’s appearance. He was a few years younger than Hugo but, whereas the older man still looked very good for his age, his friend looked decades older.
‘Hugo,’ Roland croaked. ‘It was good of you to come.’
Hugo was at a loss to know what to say. In the end he decided not to ask after Roland’s health but instead he apologised for the fact that it was so long since they had last seen one another.
‘Nonsense, you’ve been busy with your estates up north.’
The effort of speaking was obviously tiring him so Hugo promised to return to see him again in a couple of days and took his leave.
He never did speak to him again. Roland died that night but Hamo later told Hugo that he had died happy, saying how glad he was that he had seen his old friend once more before he went.
When he got back to Edale he found a messenger from Guillaume waiting for him. He read through the letter twice, not believing the contents the first time. Although Guillaume owned no land in Normandy, William Rufus was demanding that he provide a conroy of knights and one hundred serjeants and men-at-arms to join the king when he crossed over the Channel to take possession of Normandy. Those barons who only owned land in England had refused to serve abroad in the past but Rufus had threatened to deprive Guillaume of his two sheriffdoms and some of his manors if he failed to comply.
Guillaume felt that he was too old to go campaigning in Normandy, besides his duties in England demanded all of his time. His own son, William Peverel, was now the squire to the Earl of Shrewsbury and, in any case, at sixteen he still was too young to lead. Hugo owed Guillaume the service of four knights in return for the Derbyshire manors he held from him but Guillaume wasn’t asking for four knights from Hugo. Instead he proposed to ask for only two, but they were to include Hugo de Cuille to lead the contingent.
-X-
Robert de Bellême entered the great hall of Caen Castle to kneel before William Rufus. Once Robert Curthose was safely on his way to the Holy Land, the king announced that, as there was no prospect of him repaying the surety of ten thousand marks he had borrowed in exchange for the Dukedom of Normandy, he was now in effect its ruler and he demanded that every count, viscount and baron who held lands from the duke come to Caen to pay him homage and to swear fealty.
When his father, Roger de Montgomerie, had died in 1094, Robert’s younger brother, Hugh, had inherited the title Earl of Shrewsbury and all his English estates. Robert had received his father’s lands in Normandy to add to those of his mother, Mabel de Bellême, who had been murdered in 1079. Mabel was noted for being ambitious as well as excessively cruel and had been both feared and loathed. She had extended her lands by means fair and foul and, unsurprisingly, had made many enemies in the process. A number of these bribed their way into her castle at Bures sur Dives and struck her head from her body as she was getting out of a bath.
Rufus detested de Bellême, who had inherited his mother’s malevolent streak, but he knew that he needed his support so he forced himself to smile and greet the man warmly.
‘Robert, it’s good to see yo
u.’
‘William,’ de Bellême replied grimly, ‘I gather you need my support to oust your brother,’ he replied without bothering with the normal protocols.
The king was affronted by the man’s familiar use of his name and by being addressed as an equal.
‘Have a care, my lord. You would do well to remember your place.’
‘Why? I’m not a subject of yours as King of England, if you remember; my benighted father left all his English titles and manors to my moronic younger brother. You are not yet Duke of Normandy; that honour still belongs to Robert Curthose. If you want my support to usurp him, what do I gain?’
De Bellême was nothing if not forthright.
‘Well, my lord. Let’s see. You get to retain your estates in Normandy and what else? Oh yes! Your head.’ William’s reference to the fate of his mother was unsubtle but it wasn’t lost on Robert.
He pursed his lips and thought before replying.
‘You do know that your brother Henry is also canvassing support in a bid to seize Normandy?’
‘Yes, but he’ll fail. Those he has suborned are already deserting him. Come on de Bellême; you’re fast running out of options.’
‘So it seems, sire. Very well, give me your hands and I’ll take the oath and become your man.’
Clasping the king’s hands in his and dropping down on one knee, Robert de Bellême repeated the oath of fealty he had given to Robert Curthose not so long ago.
-X-
Richard de Cuille sighed as he read the letter from Helias, Count of Maine. His father, Robert, had died fighting for Maine’s independence from Anjou two decades previously and now it seemed that Anjou was to be their ally against domination by Normandy. He and Hugo were half-brothers; Richard’s mother being Robert de Cuille’s second wife, Millicent, who was still alive. As Millicent had been the heiress of Cuille, it had been Richard who had inherited, not Hugo. In a strange twist of fate Robert de Cuille had lost the manor after the Count of Anjou had invaded Maine, but had then regained it by marrying Millicent, the young heiress of the man it had been given to.
