David the Prince - Scotland 03 (33 page)

David cudgelled his brains. Alexander's position was, in a way, ironical. He was little of a religious man, and might have been just as well content with a resurgence of the old Columban Church, which at least would have spared him this sort of trouble. But he had a very great attachment to his mother's memory, and seemed to feel himself bound to continue her work of establishing the Romish Church supreme in Scotland. Moreover this course was politically advisable. The Pope could be a most useful ally, a helpful lever in dealings with other realms. The Vatican could provide pressure as no other authority could do. Even though in this instance the Pontiff had failed him, he would not always do so, for England was often at odds with the Holy See. Moreover, Popes changed not infrequently. Ireland excepted, and disunited under its warring kinglets, no other kingdom in Northern Christendom remained outside the Roman acceptance. To revert to the Celtic Church now would be too costly a step. This York hegemony threat had to be solved otherwise. Flambard was unlikely to be able to help in this, even if he was prepared to be bribed again; he could scarcely consecrate another bishop contrary to his own archbishop's express policy. Henry would probably back Canterbury; but with Ralph refusing to become involved, he could hardly be expected to bring pressure to bear in a matter, on the face of it, to England's disadvantage. Rome had to support its archbishops.

Neither Matilda nor his chaplain, John, whom he consulted, could think.of any way out of the impasse.

It was in their bed that August night the David suddenly sat up, awaking Matilda. "I think I have it!" he exclaimed. "Or . . . possibly I have. A chance, at least." He turned. "Oh, I am sorry, my heart. For waking you. Forgive me. I have been lying thinking of this coil, this of bishops."

"That is Alexander's coil, my dear - not your's," she told him, yawning. "You should be sleeping, not fighting his battles for him. But - what have you hatched in that mind of yours?" ' "See you - I rule Cumbria and Strathclyde. Cumbria for England, Strathclyde for Scotland. Yet they used to be one -
Cumbria was part of the kingdom of Strathclyde. My rule has the support of both monarchs. So far as Holy Church is concerned, both provinces are backward, wholly neglected. In an area larger than Wales, there is no single bishop, no Church establishment greater than two or three monasteries. This is grievous, wrong - and militates against all good government."

"So? That is true. But what . . ."

"Cumbria
should
be the responsibility ofThurstan of York. But successive archbishops, and Bishops of Durham, have done nothing. So far as they are concerned, it could be a foreign land. I spoke to Flambard of Durham about it, at the time of my father's disinterring - but nothing has been done. So - am I not entitled to go to Ralph of Canterbury, the senior archbishop, to ask
him
to do something?"

"Perhaps, yes. But how would this serve Alexander?"

"It would serve both of us. I much need the spiritual help of Holy Church in my rule here. Hard and lawless chiefs fear the anathemas of the Church often more than the threats of govern nors! It is not just a device. John is ever stressing the need for the Church's presence. Well, then! I send John to Canterbury with a message for Ralph, requesting that he consecrate him, John himself, a bishop here! With responsibility for Cumbria and Strathclyde both - since I can get no help from York. Then, consecrated, I appoint him Bishop of Strathclyde - or some such title. He becomes a bishop in Scotland. He then could consecrate another - the Bishops of St. Andrews or Dunkeld!"

"Save us, David - what a head you have on you! But yes, it could be so, if the Archbishop of Canterbury would do it."

"Why not? I am entitled to ask it, as viceroy. None can deny the need. Nor the neglect. And John would make an excellent bishop, able, of good blood and better-learned than many. I could ask Henry to aid in this. For the benefit of his province of Cumbria. I say that Ralph could scarce refuse."

"And afterwards? When you make him a bishop of Scotland?" '

"Then it would be too late to object! He would be consecrated — and could consecrate in turn. Lay on hands. Once made, a bishop cannot be unmade - save by Papal excommunication, I think. And John would do good work for Holy Church here. There would be no complaints on that score, I swear."

"You may be right. Indeed, it all sounds well-founded. Now - forget it all, my love. Come back to sleep
..."

The next day, David thrashed the thing out with Brother John the Benedictine, his former tutor
- who, after initial alarm at finding himself chosen for the role of bishop, and of a diocese one-fifth the size of England, grew intrigued by the challenge and by the mechanics of the case, and certainly did not question the need. Two points arose from their discussion; it must be stipulated from the first that any such Canterbury ordination did not imply spiritual hegemony over any part of Scotland, as was York's claim; secondly, that the bishopric to which John should be appointed must be left vague as to title and territorial designation, or it would be difficult to change later. Bishop
in
Cumbria and Strathclyde would serve meantime. The entire area was too vast for any one diocese — all must recognise that. Yet Cumbria alone, or any other
English
designation, would not do.

David went to write his letters to Henry and Ralph, and John to prepare for his unexpected journey to London.

Whilst they awaited the outcome of this move, and still no Viking invasion materialised, allowing some proportion of the men standing to arms to go off and ingather the harvest, a more personal problem struck David's household. Hugo de Morville arrived back from Normandy bringing with him only Waltheof and young Matilda.
- Simon, the elder boy had not wanted to come, and Count Stephen d'Aumale had actually encouraged him in his refusal, saying that he, a young Norman with a great future, was much better in Normandy, learning to be a good knight, than up amongst the barbarians of the English-Scottish border. He refused to let him be brought away. Hugo had a notion that there was more to this than met the eye. As future Earl of Northampton and to be very rich, young Simon might one day be a useful prize, almost a hostage for an ambitious man.

Matilda, delighted to have her two younger children back, was much upset by this of her first-born, both his lack of desire to return to her, and the suggestion that he might be used in some game of her uncle. She and David wrote another letter to Henry, requesting him to intervene, as kin of Stephen d'Aumale, and possibly pressing his brother Robert, Duke of Normandy, to bring the Count to order.

In mid-September Fergus transmitted the news that his cousin Somerled of Coll declared that the Norsemen menace was overpast. The Jarl Ivar's fleet had sailed through the Hebridean sea eastwards, laden down with booty, on its way back to Norway. Honest men could now go about their proper business again, of harvesting, peat-cutting and pleasuring their wives.

After an absence of a month, John returned to Caer-luel a fully fledged and mitred bishop. There had been no least difficulty. King Henry had made his endorsement of the need for spiritual advancement in Cumbria and his lack of confidence in the York archdiocese. Ralph had agreed that something had to be done—and obviously was not displeased to be in a position to emphasise his displeasure towards Thurstan. The question of title, which might have proved a serious stumbling-block, provided no difficulty in fact, the Archbishop acceding that Cumbria and Strathclyde was far too large an area to be designated one diocese, and content that John should have something in the nature of a roving episcopal commission, title unspecified. So all was well, and he was Bishop in Cumbria and Strathclyde.

David was perhaps more elated than was suitable on purely spiritual grounds — although happy on that score also. He had thought considerably on the matter meantime, and had come to the conclusion that the title of the new bishopric ought to be Glasgow. The only traditional diocesan names in the entire area from Lune to Clyde were Whithorn, or Candida Casa, and Glasgow; and almost certainly archiepiscopal eyebrows would be less likely to rise, in the circumstances, over a traditional see name than one newly forged. For their purposes, it had to be in Scotland proper, and Glasgow was more unassailably so than Whithorn in Galloway, which had once been a small kingdom on its own. Also, its resounding connections with the Blessed Kentigcrn, patron saint of all Cumbria, was notable and worth emphasising at this juncture-even though there had not been a Bishop of Glasgow for long. Moreover, there had been pressure from York, during MacBeth's reign, to revive the diocese of Whithorn - under York of course - so that dog would best be left asleep. Early Bishops of Glasgow had claimed that their diocese reached as far south as even Stainmore in Yorkshire — so such title would be hard to refute by the traditionalists. Glasgow let it be, then. Not that David suggested that John should take up his abode, save nominally, so far north as the Clyde; Caer-luel would serve as episcopal centre very well, meantime.

David sent a message to Alexander thereafter, informing that he now possessed a Scottish bishop, duly consecrated, who could consecrate in turn. That problem was solved. The next moves were up to the King of Scots.

15

As
it turned
out, one of the Bishop John's first significant episcopal acts was to consecrate Prior Ralph as the Abbot of the new Abbey of Saints Mary and John of Shiel Kirk, the first Roman Church abbey in Scotland, in the spring of 1116. The establishment at the confluence of Ettrick and Yarrow had been functioning as a monastery in some measure for many months of course, and all the subsidiary buildings were finished — or at least in use - by the previous autumn, and Ralph was ready for the grand opening to take place then. But David had been called urgently away to Huntingdon, where the earldom's affairs were suffering some inevitable neglect in the circumstances and where, besides, he had to take Matilda and the children for their winter stay, as arranged. But by the Feast of St. John the Evangelist, in early May, the family were back in the North — Matilda vowing that she was not going to endure another months-long separation of that sort—and they could all attend the auspicious occasion, her husband and Ralph both agreeing that it was unthinkable that the celebration should be held lacking the Countess's presence, whose treasure and support had made it all possible.

So a great company assembled in that fair valley, from far and near, to signalise the achievement, with the abbey precincts temporarily looking more like a tented armed camp. Taking a leaf out of Henry's book, David saw this event as an opportunity of indicating to all and sundry that the achievements of peace and patience, artistry and industry, with sheer faith and goodness, could be every bit as exciting, colourful and rewarding as deeds of arms and martial valour - a lesson admittedly difficult to drive home to the Normans in especial. So all was stage-managed to the best of his ability, every opportunity for display and flourish utilised, no expense spared. All the local lords and chieftains were present, most of his Norman lieutenants, and large numbers of the peoplej considering the under-populated nature of the terrain.

The church was by no means finished yet, to be sure; that would take years of devoted work. But roofless as it was, the walls were sufficiently complete to have the impressive consecration service held within, with the May weather fortunately kind. The bare stone was decorated with evergreen boughs and spring flowers and blossom, and the Caer-luel party had brought fine hangings and tapestries. The Tironensian Order tended to eschew all pomp and display; but Prior Ralph accepted that this day was an exception.

David was deliberately playing the viceroy and heir to the Scots throne, dressed in his finest, with Matilda looking magnificent, and attended, for the occasion, by a train of ladies led by Beatrix de Beauchamp.

Bishop John, in mitre and splendid vestments, conducted the service, assisted by David's new chaplain, Alwin, a Saxon Augustinian canon found for him by Queen Maud from the Priory of Merton, south of London, in which she was interested. Not only so, but adding lustre and recognition to the scene was another Saxon prelate, a colleague and friend of Alwin, the quite renowned young Abbot Ailred of Rosedale, in Yorkshire, who was risking almost certain censure from his archbishop by attending and taking part in this establishing of a new abbey outwith his authority.

The ceremony commenced out-of-doors, with the Bishop drawing a chalice of water from the holy well of St. Mungo -David's suggestion this, to link up with the ancient Celtic missionaries who had first established Christian worship here-blessing it before them all and then going in procession, accompanied by choristers and instrumentalists, to sprinkle drops of the holy water in the corners and lintels of all the monastic buildings, intoning a blessing at each construction, bakehouse, dairy, tannery, mill, dormitories, refectory and so on. Finally they came to the uncompleted church, taking longer over this, the various points of the masonry where the water was to be sprinkled being marked, for crosses to be carved thereon in due course. Thus, the edifice itself consecrated, all who could get inside moved in, to see the high altar dedicated in its turn.