The Greatest Knight
Page 33
THE LORD OF LEINSTER
William Marshal spent much of late 1206 laying plans for a full-scale expedition to Ireland. He would once again be accompanied by Countess Isabel, but their party would also be bolstered by a large portion of the Marshal household. Geoffrey FitzRobert remained in Leinster, but William now decided to bring many of his most trusted and able knights and retainers on this journey westwards. These included his kinsman John Marshal, the ever-faithful John of Earley and Jordan of Sauqueville, the knight who helped to defend Upper Normandy. All of these men were becoming established landholders in their own right, having been granted estates by King John, yet they chose to remain in Earl William’s service.
Some prominent members of Marshal’s retinue had moved on to fresh ventures by this time. William Waleran married and took possession of lands in Gloucestershire. Alan of St-Georges returned to Sussex to take up his inheritance, but he was replaced in the earl’s entourage by a near neighbour from the Rother Valley, Henry Hose, who hailed from the village of Harting, at the foot of the South Downs. Another notable recruit was Stephen of Évreux, a well-established knight whose family held lands in Herefordshire (on the Welsh March) from the Lacy dynasty, and who came to be trusted for his cool-headed judgement. Both would play significant roles in the Leinster campaign. Two other familiar faces also made the journey to Ireland: William’s devoted counsellor and clerk, Master Michael of London, and the knight Philip of Prendergast. The latter had a close connection to Ireland, as his father Maurice had fought in Leinster alongside Richard Strongbow in the 1170s, and Philip himself was of mixed Norman-Irish birth.
William Marshal was by no means abandoning his lordship in Striguil after 1206, but the decision to employ so many of his leading supporters on the coming expedition suggests a clear recognition of the challenges that would be faced, and a determination to see them overcome. As was customary, Earl William also sought official licence from King John to travel to Leinster, and this was duly issued on 19 February 1207. Final arrangements were made for the departure from the southern Welsh March. Less than ten days later, however, a crown messenger arrived at Striguil with disturbing news. The capricious monarch had reconsidered his position, and was no longer happy for Marshal to make his journey to Ireland.
King John perhaps failed to give sufficient consideration to William’s initial request, or it may be that this change of heart was simply a product of his notoriously inconsistent nature. In any case, the king now sought to restrict Marshal’s movements. At one level, John appears to have been concerned by Earl William’s growing influence and independence, but the monarch also had a more direct and self-serving reason to interfere in the proposed Leinster campaign. As ‘lord of Ireland’, John had his own ambitions there and, in many respects, saw the province as his own pet project – a region that had resisted his will in 1185, but would now, in the new century, be curbed by his royal might. From 1200 onwards, the king had been sponsoring the forcible imposition of his own rights in Ireland, happily trampling over the claims of other lords (including those of William Marshal in Leinster). At the same time, John sought to destabilise potential opponents by encouraging infighting between the native Irish and Anglo-Norman colonists, and power struggles among the settler barons themselves. The crown’s representatives had enjoyed considerable success, so John was not enamoured by the prospect of Earl William making a bold and determined entry into the Irish world.
Marshal now faced a difficult decision. He still possessed a formal royal licence for his expedition that had not been rescinded, but according to the History, the king’s envoy made it clear that John’s ‘sole wish is that you should not go to Ireland.’* Any journey to Leinster would not be illegal as such, yet there could be little doubt that failure to back down would result in a measure of punishment. William took time to consult in private with ‘the countess and some of his closest retainers’. Having weighed up the prospects awaiting in Ireland – plus the time and resources already expended in preparation for the venture – against the penalties that might be exacted by the crown, Marshal made a bold choice. The royal envoy was informed that ‘whether for good or ill’ William still intended to sail to Ireland. King John soon made his displeasure apparent. Marshal’s rights to the fortresses of Carmarthen and Cardigan in west Wales were rescinded on 9 April 1207; four days later he lost the custody of Gloucester Castle, the Forest of Dean and St Briavels Castle. But by that stage, Earl William and Countess Isabel had arrived in Ireland.
William Marshal’s return to Leinster
Earl William enjoyed a somewhat warmer reception from many of Leinster’s nobles in March 1207 – including Adam of Hereford and another local landholder, David de la Roche – largely because he was seen as a potential counter to King John’s overbearing influence. The monarch’s leading representative and justiciar in Ireland since 1199, Meiler FitzHenry, had become increasingly unpopular, having adopted an acquisitive and predatory approach to governance. Meiler was a formidable figure – a grizzled veteran of the first wave of Anglo-Norman conquest in Ireland, he was only marginally younger than Marshal himself. Gerald of Wales painted a vivid picture of Meiler from first-hand experience, describing him as a broad-chested man of below medium height, with strong muscular limbs, ‘a dark complexion, with black eyes and a stern, piercing look’; and characterised him as a skilled warrior who relished combat, but loved glory even more. Meiler was undoubtedly a canny, ambitious and unscrupulous figure, with long experience of warfare. He would prove to be a dangerous enemy. He also boasted an impressive familial heritage – his father having been one of King Henry I of England’s many bastards, his mother a Welsh princess of near-legendary beauty – so was hardly overawed by Earl William’s own status and pedigree.
Meiler was opposed to William Marshal’s plan to assert his authority in Leinster on a number of levels. As justiciar of Ireland, Meiler regarded himself as the king’s right hand and leading power in the province, and like John, he was hardly minded to welcome the advent of a forceful Anglo-Norman rival, especially one who had fallen from the crown’s favour. Meiler also held lands in Leinster itself, most notably the imposing stone castle of Dunamase, and was trying to press his own claim to rule over the region of Offaly in the north-west, which he argued had been confiscated by royal order. All of this guaranteed that the justiciar would seek to thwart William at every step.
Nonetheless, it seemed initially that Meiler had overplayed his hand. Upon his arrival in Ireland, Marshal was quickly able to build a coalition of disgruntled local lords in Leinster and neighbouring Meath (to the north), where Walter of Lacy held the reins of power. In May 1207, the ‘barons of Leinster and Meath’ sent a formal letter of complaint to King John, demanding that Meiler FitzHenry relinquish his hold over Offaly and return the territory to its rightful lord. Earl William was not directly named in this missive, but the implication was clear. Marshal must have imagined that the sheer volume of Anglo-Irish support for his cause might force John to reprimand his justiciar, but he was badly mistaken. The king’s letter of response was full of embittered rage at the ‘unheard of’ affront to his majesty, and declared in decisive terms that ‘what you ask is neither right, nor has any precedent’. William had overstepped the mark, and would now have to pay the price.
In the months that followed, Meiler appears to have been in direct communication with John, plotting Marshal’s downfall. It was probably at the justiciar’s urging that the king issued an official royal summons in late summer 1207, instructing the earl in strict terms ‘not to fail for any reason to come to him’ in England. William was to attend an audience, along with Meiler and the leading Leinster lords who had complained about the issue of Offaly. These included men such as Adam of Hereford, David de la Roche and Marshal’s retainer, Philip of Prendergast, to whom he had granted land in County Wexford. In this meeting, John would pass fair judgement over the disputed territory.
At first glance, this might have appeared to be an ac
t of conciliation, but according to the History, when William, Isabel and their leading retainers met in council to debate this message, all ‘greatly feared [that] the king’s sending for him was a trick, designed more for harming him than for his good’, and the countess expressed grave doubts about ‘the king’s word’. Just as when John asked in 1205 to take custody of his eldest son, Earl William now found himself facing an ominous choice. Any refusal to respond to a crown command of this type would expose him to accusations of treachery, yet Marshal ‘had no doubt that once he left the land there would be strife and war between those men he left behind’ and Meiler’s forces. The earl’s absence in England would offer a perfect opportunity for the justiciar’s men to attempt the seizure of key fortresses like Kilkenny, driving the Marshal dynasty from Leinster.
William might have considered a full withdrawal from Ireland at this point, essentially forsaking his claim to Leinster, but this would have been a severe blow to his prestige and a massive concession of rights. Countess Isabel was pregnant once again, and thus not well disposed to the perilous voyage across the Irish Sea. Marshal resolved instead to stand his ground, attending the meeting in England along with two of his most trusted knights – his nephew John Marshal and retainer Henry Hose – while making detailed preparations for Leinster’s defence. Like King Richard the Lionheart before the start of the Third Crusade, Earl William had to devise a system of governance and defence that could function in his absence. At this moment of looming crisis, William looked to bulwarks of his household. Jordan of Sauqueville was appointed as guardian of the north-eastern half of Leinster, covering Carlow, Wicklow and Kildare, while John of Earley would protect Ossory in the south-west, holding the likes of Kilkenny and Wexford, with Stephen of Évreux serving as his advisor.
With autumn approaching, William Marshal called all of the knights and barons of Leinster to a major assembly at the great stronghold of Kilkenny. The earl arrived at the meeting, hand in hand with his wife, Countess Isabel, and according to the History, delivered an impassioned speech to his Anglo-Irish subjects, imploring them to show continued loyalty in his absence. The recorded wording of his declaration cannot be taken as precise, but the central tenets of Marshal’s appeal may well be accurate. The most telling feature was his repeated emphasis on Isabel, the Anglo-Irish heiress. She was described as ‘your lady by birth; the daughter of the earl [Strong bow]’ – the man who had given them their lands – a woman who ‘by birthright’ deserved their ‘protection’. William shrewdly downplayed his own claim to Leinster, stating that ‘I have nothing but through her’, while emphasising Isabel’s delicate state, noting that ‘she remains amongst you pregnant’. By stressing the legitimacy of the Clare/Marshal rights and his wife’s abject vulnerability, William evidently hoped to secure the fidelity of his subjects ‘until such time as God brings me back here’. Marshal trusted the power of his words, rejecting John of Earley’s suggestion that he demand hostages from his Anglo-Irish barons. This would prove to be a dreadful miscalculation.
A trap is set
After the meeting at Kilkenny, ‘the earl took leave of his men and quickly crossed the Irish Sea’, arriving back in west Wales on 27 September 1207. Meiler FitzHenry travelled separately, but duly appeared in November, when the audience with King John was convened at Woodstock – one of the grandest of all of the Angevins’ royal residences (and today the site of Blenheim Palace). It was here that Earl William was betrayed. John was supposed to adjudicate on the issue of Offaly, but he immediately treated Marshal in a ‘hostile and unpleasant’ manner, and proceeded to teach his once loyal servant a potent lesson about the depth of a king’s power and the weakness of men’s hearts.
The History passed over the close and humiliating detail of this assembly, but an outline of the proceedings has survived in official crown records. King John and Meiler had laid a trap for Marshal. He had been drawn away from Ireland, leaving his lands exposed, coming to Woodstock in the company of his Leinster subjects – the barons who had protested the unlawful confiscation of Offaly. Now, William had to watch as his monarch bought these same men – the likes of Adam of Hereford and David de la Roche – with grants of land, winning their silent acquiescence to Meiler’s claim. Worse was to follow. Two members of Marshal’s own retinue turned against him: Philip of Prendergast was endowed with territory near Cork (south of Leinster); while John Marshal – the earl’s own kinsman – was appointed as marshal of Ireland. As earl of Pembroke, lord of Striguil and Leinster, William Marshal could offer his knights and vassals largesse, but his rewards paled in comparison to those proffered at the font of royal favour. Roundly outbid, William was forsaken by men who saw more profit in direct service to the crown. After the gathering at Woodstock, only Henry Hose remained steadfast beside the earl.
With Earl William stripped of support, Meiler FitzHenry went on the offensive. King John granted his justiciar leave to return to Ireland, and he duly departed in early January 1208. Meiler was also furnished with three letters demanding that John of Earley, Jordan of Sauqueville and Stephen of Évreux all quit their posts in Ireland, and appear before their monarch within fifteen days or forfeit their own estates. Not surprisingly, William Marshal’s request to return to Leinster was flatly denied. Meiler and the treacherous Philip of Prendergast managed to make a successful winter crossing to Ireland, in one of the only ships to do so that season, while Marshal was forced to remain at court, travelling ‘the length and breadth of England’ with the itinerant royal entourage. Throughout this period, John was said to have ‘treated him with such coolness that it was a wonder to behold and all the court marvelled at it’, and no one would speak to the earl.
Throughout the early weeks of 1208, William was left in a state of desperate apprehension, with ‘no knowledge at all’ of events across the Irish Sea. He managed to maintain his implacable veneer of calm, conscious that any public display of fear, worry or emotion would be seized upon as a sign of weakness and exploited. Any attempt to leave the court without the king’s permission would also invite terrible retribution, not least because John still had Young William Marshal in custody as a hostage. Earl William had to force himself to wait for news from Leinster with every ounce of patience he could muster.
Then, on 25 January, as the royal party rode out from Guildford (south of London), King John brought his horse up beside William’s. ‘Marshal, tell me, have you heard any news from Ireland,’ the monarch reputedly demanded. When William replied that he had not, the king said ‘with a laugh’: ‘I can give you news from there.’ As the earl rode on in deepening shock, John proceeded to tell him that Meiler had launched an attack on Marshal’s lands. Countess Isabel had been besieged in Kilkenny and a bloody battle was fought outside the castle, in which ‘Stephen of Évreux was killed’, while ‘John of Earley [had] died from a wound sustained that very day’. At these terrible tidings, William somehow held his composure, but the History admitted that he was ‘greatly aggrieved at heart’.
12
THE FALTERING CROWN
William Marshal had been right to fear that an offensive would be launched against Leinster during his absence from Ireland. According to the History, Meiler FitzHenry had instructed his kinsmen and followers to ‘wage war on the Marshal’s men as soon as they knew that the others had arrived in England’, with a view to doing ‘harm and damage to the Marshal’s lands’. In the early autumn of 1207, Meiler’s forces attacked the key settlement of New Ross, setting ‘fire to the earl’s barns . . . reducing them to ashes’ and seizing plunder. Twenty of William’s men were slain in the course of this destructive assault. This marked the start of a period of ‘upheaval and war on a grand scale [fought] throughout that land’.
THE DEFENCE OF LEINSTER
Countess Isabel and the earl’s leading knights held their own through the winter of 1207. Cut off from the outside world by the closing of the sea-lanes, they had to fend for themselves, and appear to have done a commendable job of defending Le
inster in Earl William’s absence. They sustained no major losses of territory and captured a number of Meiler’s troops, including one of the justiciar’s leading knights and lieutenants. Up until the early weeks of 1208, the measures put in place by William proved effective. This meant that when Meiler and Philip Prendergast crossed the Irish Sea, they discovered that ‘the land was not so free of the Marshal’s men as [they] thought it would be’.
Nonetheless, Meiler had one crucial weapon in his arsenal: the royal summons issued to John of Earley, Jordan of Sauqueville and Stephen of Évreux, demanding their attendance at royal court within fifteen days. These orders were delivered soon after the justiciar made landfall in Ireland, and immediately threatened to undermine the Marshal dynasty’s hold over Leinster. According to the biographer, all three knights met ‘in secret conclave to consult privately’ about their response to King John’s demand and the prospect of forfeiting their own lands should they demure. The underlying intention of the summons was obvious. Even if immediate travel back to the mainland proved impossible because of the stormy seas, the three warriors could only hope to avoid crown punishment by submitting to Meiler, the king’s representative. John, Jordan and Stephen now faced a test of loyalty. By this point, they must have heard that Earl William had been betrayed at Woodstock; that Philip Prendergast and even John Marshal had turned against him. The question was whether they would now follow this example, salvaging their own fortunes?