Crusade

by Stewart Binns

  Adela spoke for the others over dinner that night, a meal that was much more like a celebration than a wake.

  ‘A lot of people will rest easier in their beds now that he’s gone. Good riddance to the bastard!’

  While I shared her sentiments about his passing, I feared that her prediction about people sleeping more comfortably in the future would prove to be wrong. William had changed all our lives for ever. I pondered how profoundly our lives would yet be changed in the lengthening shadow of his legacy.

  18. The Anointing

  William Rufus became William II of England in a grand ceremony in Westminster Abbey on the 26th of September 1087. He had required my attendance to kiss his ring at the appointed time, thus adding authority to his succession, and Robert was happy to give his blessing for me to travel to England with my small band of brothers-in-arms.

  The saintly King Edward’s most celebrated building was crowded with the great nobles of the realm, dressed in their heraldic finery, their ladies in fine silks and jewels. Horns saluted, drums beat the rhythm of the procession and the monks chanted in homage as Rufus became King of England.

  Perversely, there were not many Englishmen there; I guessed that not more than one in ten was a native of our island. I performed my role and knelt before our new lord and kissed his ring, thus anointing him on behalf of my kith and kin. It was a strange sensation, not helped by the contemptuous smirk which met my eyes as I looked up at him. I had a lingering sense of betrayal, a sin I could have redeemed there and then by plunging my seax deep into his chest. But it would have been merely a gesture, and a futile one at that; there were legions of Normans to take his place.

  After his crowning, Rufus dutifully carried out his father’s wishes and distributed money to all the churches of England. He freed Bishop Odo, but had Earl Morcar re-arrested. However, he was moderately well treated in a manner befitting an earl of the realm. The people of England appeared to grudgingly accept Rufus as the legitimate heir to the throne, although resentment at the Norman lordship still ran deep.

  The plots that had been hatching within the Norman hierarchy regarding the successions – both in England and in Normandy – soon began to unfold.

  Odo was at the centre of it all and had recruited the powerful Robert of Mortain to the cause. By Christmas, they had been joined by Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances, and his nephew, the Earl of Northumbria, as well as by Roger, Earl of Shrewsbury, and Count Eustace of Boulogne. By March 1088, they were strong enough to make their move.

  We had returned to Rouen earlier in the year, where a messenger arrived just after Easter summoning me to Rochester to meet Odo and his co-conspirators. I told Duke Robert about the summons.

  He agreed that I should go, but warned me to be extremely careful.

  ‘Odo is ruthless and ambitious and will do anything to further his own cause. He is not my father’s half-brother for nothing.’

  ‘I presume he thinks that by usurping Rufus and offering you the throne, he can become your regent in England.’

  ‘Exactly! He still wants the throne of Rome – and de facto rule of England from Westminster would go a long way to securing that. He would have the money and the influence to buy himself the papacy. But don’t worry, Edgar, you are just the messenger.’

  ‘Thank you for that reassuring crumb of comfort. I suppose I have done worse things in life.’

  I decided it was wise to travel with Edwin and Adela and leave Sweyn behind, given that he had already crossed swords with Odo six years earlier when he arrested him at Rochester. We arrived at our clandestine rendezvous in Upchurch, a small settlement near the Medway, one of Odo’s many manors in Kent. With guards all around and the local peasants dismissed to their fields, we met in a small barn, hardly big enough and certainly not grand enough for the elite of the Norman aristocracy.

  The Bishop was in his pomp, clearly overjoyed at playing the role of kingmaker. His entourage – big, burly men who could easily have been mistaken for housecarls had they not been wearing their fine armour and gleaming weapons – stood around him in a brooding arc that made the three of us seem like a tiny morsel about to be snapped up in the jaws of a huge beast.

  Odo wasted no time in telling us of his intent.

  ‘Your loyalty to Duke Robert is well known. Carry this message to him. We will raise a rebellion here in England to install him as King. The only condition is that during his reign he rules from Rouen, where he will continue as Duke of Normandy. He will come here for only four crown-wearings every year – at York, Winchester, Gloucester and Westminster.’

  ‘My Lord Bishop, do you expect him to accept that?’

  ‘I expect you to carry my message.’

  With that I was dismissed like a pageboy.

  Our journey to England had been uneventful – not so the return to Rouen.

  It was May and the weather had been mild but, in mid-Channel, our ship suddenly hit a wall of heavy mist. Our captain, one of Robert’s most experienced sailors, tried to stay calm, but I could see that he was concerned. From the helmsman’s position it was only just possible to see the curve of the prow; beyond it was a void.

  The captain ordered our sail to be lowered, a torch lit and our horn sounded, but it was too late. We heard the wash of the other ship before we saw it, only seconds before it hit us. I saw the serpent prow first, high above my head. Seconds later, it rammed us amidships. A large Norman merchantman, fully laden, low in the water in full sail, she split us almost in half.

  We were all in the water in an instant. Thankfully, spring had warmed the sea sufficiently so that our lives were not under imminent threat, but it was vital that we look for something to cling to and then try to retrieve our armour and weapons.

  We were carrying little cargo so, although badly holed, we did not sink immediately. Two of the captain’s crew were killed in the impact and Edwin seemed badly dazed. With our captain’s help Adela and I managed to pull him on to the merchantman, which, apart from some sprung timbers along her prow, seemed seaworthy.

  Adela then jumped into the water again and swam back to our ship, now sitting very low in the water. The captain of the merchantman steered his ship alongside our stricken vessel and Adela started to throw our armour, weapons and anything else she could find on to its deck. But I soon became alarmed as our ship began to list to port and rapidly take on water.

  ‘Adela, get off the ship! She’s going down – you must swim for it!’

  ‘Not without my seax!’

  She dived beneath the waves just as the ship slipped quietly beneath the surface. I immediately dived in after her, knowing that she could easily become entangled in the rigging or be enveloped by the sail. The sea was calm but I was not a strong swimmer and, still wearing my leather jerkin and heavy boots, I soon began to flounder.

  I swallowed water and was fighting for air when I saw Adela’s shiny seax within inches of my face. Its blade was catching the light of a torch that had been lit to help search for us. Adela had found her weapon at the last moment and was now holding it in her teeth as she pulled me towards the safety of the merchantman.

  Once aboard, she turned to me. ‘You can’t swim, can you?’

  Somewhat embarrassed, I had to confess that it had been many years since I had tried to swim – and that was only in a shallow pond in Hungary.

  ‘Then you are very brave. Thank you for trying to help me. You nearly drowned!’

  ‘It should be me thanking you. I would have drowned had you not appeared from the depths!’

  Adela smiled at me before marching purposefully towards the captain of the merchantman. When she arrived within a foot of him, despite the fact that he towered over her, she threw a prodigious punch with her right hand, catching the captain square on his jaw. The leather glove of her hand was still sopping wet with seawater, so the impact of the punch produced a plume of spray that followed the captain’s descent to the deck of the ship, splashing over him moments after he landed.


  He lay there, dazed for a moment, before rousing himself and reaching for his battle-axe. As he did so, he felt that Adela already had the point of her seax under his chin. The angry face of our own captain was glaring down at him.

  ‘I should let this knight kill you – I know she’d like to. It’s what you deserve! How can you have been in full sail in these conditions? You had no beacon and sounded no horn.’

  Realizing that he was in no position to argue, the prostrate man relented.

  ‘I am sorry, the mist comes and goes. I thought we would soon be clear.’

  I then intervened, partly to make our progress to Normandy as swift as possible and partly to save the beleaguered captain from being filleted alive by Adela’s blade.

  ‘We are on Duke Robert’s business. This ship is requisitioned until we reach the coast. After that, I will leave it to you and our captain to decide how you settle your differences.’

  We made our way to Rouen as quickly as we could and told Sweyn of our adventure in the Channel before reporting back to Robert. He seemed happy and comfortable in his new ducal guise. He had placated Philip of France and made recompense to as many of those with a grievance against his father as he could find, including the people of Mantes.

  In the burning of the town, two revered anchorites who had chosen Mantes for their devout seclusion had been burned alive. To salve his conscience, William had granted a large sum to the church and Robert had generously added to it in order to pay for the building of a new cathedral to replace the chapel that had been burned to the ground in the sacking of the town.

  ‘Do you like my new regalia?’

  ‘It’s very impressive.’

  ‘It’s all new and very expensive. I’ve got rid of that ridiculous baculus my father used to carry around and locked it away in the treasury; the damn thing used to terrify me.’

  I told Robert about Odo’s plan and its conditions.

  ‘That’s typical of him. Rufus should never have freed him. He thinks I’m more pliant than Rufus and that, if I rule from here, I’ll be King in name only and he’ll be able to do as he pleases.’

  ‘His ambition is the papacy, so he’ll want Canterbury first, then your support for a bid to be Pope.’

  ‘He’s very cunning. By appearing to promote me as King, he also hopes to gain favour with Philip, who would be vital to his papal campaign.’

  ‘So, what will you do?’

  ‘What do you think his chances are of unseating Rufus?’

  ‘He’s got the backing of most of the old guard, but the younger men don’t like him and neither do the English. He can raise a strong force from the elite Norman garrisons but, strange as it may seem, most of the younger nobles have Englishmen in their service and they will fight for Rufus, who they accept as their King, rather than Odo, who they remember as William’s senior henchman during the Conquest. It will be a close call. Odo’s not a soldier – he’s a bishop, albeit an ambitious one. He may overplay his hand.’

  ‘That’s good advice. I don’t want to raise an army and secure victory for Odo so that he can make me a puppet king. I think I’ll stay in Rouen. If I go to England, I’ll become a co-conspirator. That will be unforgivable in Rufus’s eyes. Normandy is enough of a realm for me at the moment. Let’s see how Odo’s rebellion unfolds.’

  ‘Fine, but what exactly should I tell him?’

  ‘You’ll think of something, my friend. You’re good at that.’

  ‘Then may I make a suggestion?’

  ‘You may – any clever ideas are welcome.’

  ‘It is important that you appear to be lending support without actually committing yourself in person. If I report back that you wish Odo every success and that you will be sending some men to join the cause, Edwin, Adela and Sweyn could bring them on later, making sure that their progress was appropriately unhurried.’

  ‘A cunning plan, Edgar. And who would lead this squadron?’

  ‘Well, discretion is vital under the circumstances, so I would suggest that Edwin leads it, and Sweyn and Adela act as his aides-de-camp.’

  Robert seemed amused.

  ‘I suppose that means a promotion and extra pay for the three of them into the bargain?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Agreed. But make sure they deserve it!’

  I was sure they would be pleased – especially Sweyn, who had not used his prodigious skills in combat since Mahnoor’s death.

  ‘I will return to England tonight. I will need some messengers – so that I can send word to Edwin about the timing of the arrival of your men.’

  ‘Very well, I will send eight conroi, half my personal squadron; they will be ready in two days. I will also send some Flemish infantry – they’re always keen to fight if the price is right – and four companies of archers. Edwin will be Squadron Commander; Sweyn and Adela will be your aides, with a troop of my own knights led by Hugh Percy and Ralph of Mortemer. I can’t have the entire force led by the English!’

  I returned to Rochester to give Odo Duke Robert’s answer.

  Again, Odo’s ominous circle of supporters stood around him like bodyguards. This time, the setting was his great hall, high in the keep of Rochester’s imposing motte and bailey, not a tiny barn in the countryside. The setting made the gathering much more imposing. It was obvious that these men meant business.

  Odo’s planned rebellion was not just an idle conspiracy; he meant to seize the throne.

  As soon as I told him of Robert’s support, Odo ordered his forces to launch the attack, but he was not pleased that the Duke had decided to stay in Normandy and that he was only prepared to commit a small force.

  ‘I suppose he’s trying to be a clever bugger and having it both ways, leaving it to me to present him with a kingdom.’

  ‘It is nearly 1,000 men, including the finest from his personal squadron.’

  ‘Don’t try to deceive me; I know exactly what his game is.’

  ‘I think you both understand one another’s tactics. The field is yours; Duke Robert lends his support.’

  ‘I was told you were clever with words. I know the field is mine. But as you know only too well, kingdoms are won by men who are prepared to fight for them, not by sitting back and waiting to see how the tide is turning.’

  ‘My Lord Bishop, Robert will throw himself into the fray when the time is right. If he came here with a large army and took the throne, he would, understandably, want to rule both England and Normandy from here, something I think you would prefer not to happen. You were very clear that you hoped Robert would spend most of his time in Normandy.’

  I had countered Odo’s initial gambit, and he knew it. He did not want Robert in England, interfering with his plans to be England’s sub-regulus and to use it as his stepping stone to the papacy.

  ‘I know my nephew is not cunning enough to have thought all this through, so it must be you. You should have been a cardinal. They’re all like you – very clever and very devious.’

  Odo meant his comment as a compliment, one that I was happy to accept.

  I took my leave, musing on Odo’s bold words. I was sorely tempted to comment that he was about to make his bed and was going to have to lie in it.

  19. Revolt at Rochester

  The main centres of the uprising were in Northumbria, the south-west and in Kent and Sussex. Instigated by the rebels, raiding parties from the Welsh tribes also crossed into the Marches to loot and plunder, and Malcolm of Scotland seized the opportunity to attack in the north-west.

  It was the middle of a particularly warm spring, and the country appeared prosperous and serene. The burghs were flourishing and the farmers busy in their fields. The uprising caught Rufus completely by surprise. He was hunting in the New Forest when news of the rebellion reached him, and he returned to Winchester immediately.

  He summoned his council and ordered half his treasury in Winchester and a quarter of his London bullion to be made available to pay for a counter-attack.

  Engla
nd was soon in chaos. The Norman hierarchy was split almost down the middle; in many places, earls and bishops who supported Rufus were neighbours of those who supported Odo. Sometimes the fighting was a small local skirmish, but there were also large pitched battles involving hundreds of men.

  There were many Englishmen in the service of their Norman masters and many minor English landowners whose land had not been lost to Normans; all were caught up in the fighting. The bloodshed was wholesale and affected almost every corner of the land. Families were divided; brother fought brother, and lifelong friends became mortal enemies.

  My assessment of Odo as a wily and ambitious bishop, but a less competent general, proved to be accurate. Instead of using both the element of surprise and his superior numbers to press home his advantage, he dithered. The rebellion was well supported but concentrated around the strongholds of the rebels. Rather than riding out to coordinate the separate groups and take the fight to Rufus, he sat in Rochester waiting for the King to come to him. Robert of Mortain did the same in Pevensey.

  This was disastrous for the rebellion. It gave Rufus time to gather his forces and to persuade many isolated rebels in small pockets around the country to abandon the cause. By the generous use of the vast wealth of his Exchequer, he assembled a large army of loyal Norman lords and knights and, enticed by bulging purses of coin, a significant number of English infantry.

  Gilbert of Clare was the first rebel to surrender at Tonbridge. He had been wounded in the initial assault and capitulated within two days of the arrival of the King’s army. Rufus then moved towards Rochester to cut off the head of the rebellion – Odo of Bayeux himself. But the Bishop was not there. He had panicked when he heard about Tonbridge and learned that Arundel had fallen to the King, and fled in the middle of the night to Pevensey to seek the protection of his ally and brother, Robert Mortain.

  Even though he travelled with only a handful of men, he was seen by the King’s scouts and, within hours, Rufus was aware of the Bishop’s mad dash. He immediately turned south to Pevensey, where both leading conspirators were now holed up together.