Stewart Binns - Anarchy

After weeks of campaigning, Robert waited until Stephen and his supporters had reached the point of exhaustion before sending a messenger to him. The King was resting at Hereford when Robert’s message was delivered. It was stark and succinct.

To Stephen of Blois,

I renounce your possession of the throne of our English realm and to that of our kin in Normandy. You sit in Westminster and Rouen unlawfully and without the support of either sovereign lords or common people. All previous oaths of loyalty to you were taken under duress and are thus without substance.

I have taken counsel on this from both ecclesiasts and judiciary and they conclude that the true heir to King Henry’s lands and possessions is Matilda, Lady of the English.

Stephen responded angrily, as it was hoped he would do, and began to harass the supporters of Earl Robert in the West Country. He committed several acts of brutality – in particular, after his capture of Shrewsbury Castle. Its lord, William FitzAlan, managed to escape with his family. But his lieutenant, a courageous knight called Arnulf de Hesdin, was hanged on a gibbet along with a hundred of the garrison. It was an act that increased opposition to Stephen’s rule, rather than reduced it.

When we heard news of Robert’s declaration, we sent word to King David in Dunfermline, asking him to cross the border with the biggest army he could muster, which he did at the beginning of June. His part of the plan was to take possession of the north as far as the Ribble in the west and the Humber in the east, which he would hold as part of his pact with Maud. With Geoffrey holding Normandy, we would take and hold England, with both King David and Geoffrey declaring their loyalty to Maud as ‘Lady of the English, Empress of the North’.

The next three months were an agonizing time as we waited for news from King David. Our strategy was to move to Caen. Count Geoffrey had sent a personal retinue of twenty knights and a hundred men-at-arms to act as Maud’s personal bodyguard for a Channel crossing, and to escort her to a rendezvous with Earl Robert.

The castle at Caen had been built by King William, Maud’s grandfather, and was said to be the most formidable fortress in the realm. The Constable made the ducal apartments available to us and, for the first time, Maud began to feel like a sovereign again. The men that Geoffrey had sent were seasoned campaigners and we made preparations to be ready to sail to England as soon as we heard positive news from across the Channel.

The messenger arrived with the much-anticipated news at the beginning of the second week of September. He was a tall and distinguished man, dressed in a russet-red Celtic leine. He spoke clearly, in excellent English.

Maud sat back in her ducal chair, still wearing her warrior’s garb, impatient to hear what the herald had to say as he rolled out a beige vellum document.

‘His Majesty, David, Lord of the Isles, Prince of the Galwegians and Cumbrians and King of Alba, sends his felicitations to his niece, Matilda, Lady of the English. His Majesty’s army, twenty-six-thousand-strong, entered Northumbria in June 1138 and proceeded south. King David was acclaimed by all who saw him and where there was resistance from Norman lords and their garrisons, it was overcome with ease.

‘A major battle was fought in Yorkshire, outside the walls of Clitheroe Castle on the estate of Robert de Lacey, Lord of Bowland, where the forces of Stephen of Blois were comprehensively routed. A few of the English army escaped to the west along the River Ribble to Preston. But most scattered to the east to seek refuge beyond Pen Hill in the forests of Burnley and Trawden, where they were hunted down in their hundreds.’

I smiled at the name of ‘Clitheroe Castle’, and wondered if it had been built on the spot that my grandfather once used as a base when he began The English Revolt against the Conqueror in 1069. We had called it ‘Clitheroe Mound’ in our family stories, but almost seventy years had passed – more than enough time for the Normans to have fortified the hilltop position. I began to feel a rising tide of nostalgia and optimism.

But the euphoria was soon dispelled by the rest of the messenger’s account.

‘When Stephen of Blois heard the account of the Battle of Clitheroe, he despatched a large force northwards under the command of Bernard de Balliol, William Peveral and Robert de Ferrers, which was joined by the armies of the Norman lords of the north, led by Thurstan, Archbishop of York. On the 22nd of August, King David’s army gave battle to the Norman horde at Cowton Moor, near Northallerton in Yorkshire. Thurstan raised a standard at the commencement of the battle – a ship’s mast with a silver pyx on its top containing a consecrated Host.

‘King David regarded this as a desecration and instructed his army to fight for “The Standard” in the name of Scotland and of God. The Norman-English forces were well organized, and their archers inflicted many casualties, causing panic in the Scottish ranks. The Galwegians on King David’s right attempted a reckless charge against the centre of the English lines and were cut down by wave after wave of quarrels and arrows, creating terror in the Scottish ranks.

‘Witnesses said that Galwegian dead lay on the ground in piles as high as a man and that their bodies had as many arrows in them as sticklebacks have spines. Try as he might, His Majesty King David was unable to rally his men and he had to order a retreat. Our losses were great – almost ten thousand brave souls. The King instructs me to confer his regrets, but reassures you that he still has a significant force at his disposal. He intends to stay in Carlisle for the winter, where he will await your further instructions.’

Maud stood and left the Great Hall of Caen Castle, devastated and indignant. When I caught up with her in her chamber, she was white with anger.

‘What was my uncle doing? It sounds like a shambles. Stephen wasn’t even there, but still David managed to suffer an ignominious defeat! What do we do now?’

I felt devastated too, but I reassured Maud that it was merely a setback.

‘Let’s wait for the advice of Earl Robert. The key is still getting you on to English soil – but only when the time is right.’

She looked me in the eye. Her expression changed from anger to despair. I could see tears forming.

‘It has been nearly three years. Will we ever get to England?’

‘Yes, my darling, of course we will.’

‘Don’t you sometimes wish we were at St Cirq Lapopie, away from all this? Just you, me and our boys–’

‘All the time. But our die is cast; we can’t hide in the Lot when Henry Is heir to your throne, and Geoffrey and William next in line of succession behind him. We could never find peace.’

‘Hal, please help me to be strong.’

I took her into my arms and held her as tightly as I could.

‘Darling Maud, you have the strength of ten men; there’s no obstacle we can’t overcome together.’

Matters deteriorated even more at the end of 1138, when news arrived in Caen that Pope Innocent II had sent Alberic, Cardinal Bishop of Ostia, to Carlisle to negotiate a settlement between Stephen and King David. It took him three days of rancorous argument, but at its end, David agreed to withdraw north of the Tweed for the winter and to cease his raids. David’s son, Henry, was made Earl of Northumbria, with effective control of the north of England, for as long as he acknowledged Stephen as his lord.

As Maud was quick to point out when we heard the news, this effectively isolated her uncle from the coming conflict and removed one of her most important allies. It was bad news heaped upon bad news, and it prompted me to suggest a change of plan to Maud.