David the Prince - Scotland 03 (47 page)

t was two
whole years before Holy Church's due order and God's good time produced decision. The Pope finally resolved the matter by declaring that Scotland's Church was in no way a
dependency of York. And in order to forestall trouble in England, with Henry, he pushed the
action on to William of Canterbury, creating him especial papal legate for the occasion, and directed him, as such, to order Thurstan of York to consecrate Robert of Scone as Bishop of St. Andrews and Primate, with the status of minor but undoubted met
r
opolitan. So it turned out a triumph for David, however long delayed.

But by that time events had moved on somewhat drastically on the wider front, with Scotland not unaffected. The Emperor Henry the Fifth died suddenly, and there was trouble about the election of his successor, Lothair, producing a distinct hiatus in Christendom, and leaving Henry's daughter Matilda — now also being called Maud - a young widow. Henry was not one to let the grass grow, even over new graves, and within the year had married the sorrowing Empress off to Geoffrey, son of the Cou
nt of Anjou, by-named Plantagene
t on account of the sprig of broom he wore in his jousting helmet as identification; no doubt, he deemed him a useful son-in-law in his unending struggle with the King of France. Hardly were the nuptials celebrated than Henry had the bemused bride back to England, from Rouen, minus her husband, for a further display of statecraft. He made formal announcement that Maud, his remaining legitimate offspring, was to be his heir in the dukedom of Normandy and the kingdom of England.

This of course set the cat amongst the pigeons. For a woman to be reigning monarch was unheard-of amongst the Normans, where the so-called Salic Law prevailed and rulers were essentially sword-wielders. Moreover, the Angevins were unpopular in Normandy. There was immediate trouble in that dukedom-where, however, Count Geoffrey was in a good position to help impose order; also murmurings all over Norman England. As a consequence of which Henry issued a peremptory summons to every major land-holder in his kingdom to come to Windsor on the Feast of Epiphany, there to swear to support the Empress -she was still being so called for prestige reasons — under pain of treason.

And, as Earl of Huntingdon, King David was summoned with the rest.

This, of course, put David in a quandary. To obey the bald summons could look as though he was indeed a subsidiary, a vassal King. Yet to refuse would be considered a hostile act, treason as far as Huntingdon was concerned; and Matilda's great lands there liable to forfeiture. Moreover Maud was his own niece, his sister's daughter, and he had no reason not to support her. Scotland not being a subscriber to any Salic Law, David decided that he had no option but to go, although he must make most clear his position to all concerned. Although it was mid-winter and an interruption of the Yuletide festivities, the worst time of the year for travel, he took Matilda with him, along with a large and impressive train, as befitted a visiting monarch - including Chancellor Robert, for Thurstan to consecrate, however reluctantly.

At Windsor on the Thames, where the enormous castle of the Conqueror was being added to, Henry had all planned and stage-managed. All England that mattered was there, including many lords and counts from Normandy summoned on account of their English holdings - partly to keep them from making trouble in their own dukedom. Included amongst these was Stephen of Blois, Count of Boulogne, Henry's nephew and married to David's sister Mary's daughter, a handsome if petulant-seeming young man whom he had never previously seen.

David and Henry had not met since the former's accession, indeed not since the unhappy interlude at Caer-luel four years before. But now Henry was in affable mood, one monarch to another, apparently prepared to forget past differences.

David took the first available opportunity to emphasise that his answer to Henry's summons must be made entirely manifest to all as that of the Earl of Huntingdon, not the King of Scots.

"I well understand your position, David," the other said. "And I intend that it shall be emphasised by having you to be first of all to swear support for Maud. Before all my family and my earls and lords."

"That could be seen in another light, Henry - as though the King of Scots was but the first of your vassals. I would ask that it be announced, before I take this oath, that I do so with all my heart but only as Earl of Huntingdon, not as King."

"This oath is not one of fealty, man! Be not so thin-skinned. It is only to support my daughter in her legitimate and rightful claim to the throne of England, should I die. An oath which any monarch could swear without hurt to his position."

"Nevertheless, it could be seen otherwise. All others will be swearing as vassals, owing fealty."

"As so do you, for Huntingdon."

"
Only
for Hunting
don. Which is what must be made
abundantly evident to all. Otherwise, Henry, I cannot swear."

The two kings eyed each other directly for a moment, Henry frowning. Then he shrugged.

"Very well. I shall see to it. Although it is unnecessary."

But on the morrow, when all was ready for the great ceremony in the chapel of the castle, and all the lords and prelates of England, and much of Normandy, were massed, crowding the place uncomfortably, there was a hitch - whether spontaneous or contrived David did not know. But there, before all, when the line-up of the various categories of magnates was being marshalled by the heralds, young Stephen of Blois made vehement and dramatic protest when he discovered that David was to take precedence in the swearing ceremony.

"It will not do!" he cried. "I am undoubted heir-male to the throne of England, as son of Adela, William the First's daughter, and nephew of King Henry. If my cousin Maud, a woman, is to heir that throne, then at least it should be myself who first offers support."

There was some cheering for this, especially from the Normandy Normans.

Since David could scarcely enter into an unseemly wrangle in front of all, there was an uncomfortable pause. Henry, from his chair-of-state up near the alt
ar, sat unm
oving. Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, the Justiciar, who was acting master-of-ceremonies, wrung his hands and looked unhappily at David -who gave a single brief but decided shake of the head.

Robert, Bishop-Elect and Chancellor of Scotland, although not involved in the proceedings, stepped forward from amongst the distinguished visitors, and spoke up.

"My lords - it is unconceivable that any should take precedence of a crowned king! My lord of Boulogne cannot fail to see that, surely?"

"King
of
Scotland,
only!" Stephen sneered.

"Your lady's uncle, my lord!"

David had to speak. "My lord Bishop," he said to Salisbury. "May we proceed? I take the oath first - or not at all. And as Earl of Huntingdon."

"Yes. Yes, my lord King. My lord of Boulogne — you will swear second."

"Not so!" Another voice rang ou
t through the crowded chapel. "I
will swear second. I am the King's son, and an earl of England. I will not take place behind any count of France!" That was Robert, Earl of Gloucester, Henry's favourite illegitimate son.

"Curse you, Bastard!" Stephen shouted. "Are whores' gets now to rank before honest men?"

"My lords, my lords . . . !" Bishop Roger wailed.

David turned around and stalked up the chancel-steps to Henry's chair - the only man there who might have done so.

"This is intolerable!" he said low-voiced, tense. "And an offence in God's house. Stop it, Henry - or I leave this church."

"Tush, man - puppies must bark!" the other said. But he raised a hand, nevertheless, and raised voice also. "My lord Bishop - proceed. With the form as set forth."

David nodded curtly and returned to his place below the chancel-steps.

Roger pointed, wordless, for Stephen to stand behind David, and his cousin Robert behind
him. Then Reginald de Dunster
ville, new Earl of Cornwall, another of Henry's bastards, Henry de Beaumont, Earl of Warwick, Hugh d'Avranches, Earl of Chester and the other earls according to seniority. The heralds had already marshalled the lesser lords of all degrees; and the archbishops and many bishops, who were not to swear but only to affirm their devotion to Maud's cause, were waiting in a side-chapel. The two young men at the front muttered and scowled, but they could not disobey the King's voiced command.

Bishop Roger bowed low to the King, and then to the Empress Maud, who sat in another chair at the opposite side of the chancel. Then he moved up to the altar, where he genuflected, took an illuminated gospel therefrom, and with this in hand, intoned a prayer. Then he turned back to mid-chancel.

"In the name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit, Amen," he said. "Before the throne of the Most High God, before which all earthly thrones must bow, we are gathered, at the command of the King's Highness, solemnly to pledge our support, one and all, to the cause of the excellent princess, the Empress Maud, daughter of our liege lord, to defend her rights hereafter against any and all so ever. In token of which I now call upon the King's Grace of Scotland, the Lord David, to swear first of all his adherence and most full support of the said princess; that when, in the fullness of God's providence the throne of this realm of England shall become vacant through the passage of our liege lord Henry to still greater glory, the said Lady Maud shall succeed to the said throne of England, as undoubted monarch. Although this, we pray Almighty God, may be long delayed. The said lord David to swear as an earl of England, Earl of Huntingdon in this realm, rather than as King of the Scots."

David stepped forward, and putting one hand on the gospel held out and the other raised, said,

"I, David, Earl of Huntingdon, swear my support as an earl of this realm for the right of the Princess Maud, my sister's daughter, to the throne of England when it shall be vacant by God's action, in the name of God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Amen."

As David bowed to the altar and
turned to walk over to where Mati
lda sat in the south transept, Stephen of Blois waited for distinct moments after the Bishop's signal, before he came forward, muttered his declaration and turned to grin at Robert of Gloucester before strolling off.

Robert made a ringing affirmation, as son of the King and brother of the Princess, adding his own condemnation of all would-be usurpers, self-seekers and vainglorious pretenders.

After that the lengthy process went smoothly and without hitch.

Both monarchs had to be satisfied.

The next day, the chapel was the stage for a very different scene, with only a very few to witness it. Under the supervision of Archbishop William of Canterbury, a blandly genial prelate, stronger than he looked, Thurstan of York consecrated Robert of Scone Bishop of St. Andrews and Primate of the Scottish Church. William was acting as special papal legate, for, because of the peculiar situation in the English Church with its two metropolitans, whilst Canterbury was senior to York, it was not in a position to command York's obedience. The new Biship of Caer-luel, and Thurstan's vicar-general, the purely titular Bishop of Orkney, acted suffragans for the occasion, and all was done as briefly as could be, old Thurstan putting a stiff face on it. David and Matilda, with their chaplain Alwin and Bishop John of Glasgow watched. It was noticeable that Bishop Flambard of Durham absented himself, although he too was at Windsor.

Brief as it was, the actual ceremony and laying-on-of-hands had to be an amended and compromise version, as well as shortened, to suit both sides. The usual professions of obedience to the archbishop's authority had to be dispensed with, and Thurstan felt bound to declare that what he did was done to the orders of the Papal Legate and saving all rights of the archdiocese of York. For all that, the thing was done, and Scotland had a Primate again, duly, however reluctantly, ordained.

Thereafter David did not long delay at Windsor, professing the urgent affairs and demands of his kingdom. Henry did not seek to hold him back.

They returned north by way of Huntingdon where, as well as seeing the useful and reliable Sheriff Gilbert, David had an important function to perform. Matilda had advised that he ought to seek to lessen criticism, Henry's and others', that he spent most of the great Huntingdon revenues on building monasteries and castles in Scotland, by establishing a new monastery here at Huntingdon. So a suitable site had been selected at Great Paxton, on the Ouse six miles to the south, and the Sheriff had been instructed to gather a large and representative company to see the foundation of what was to be a new Augustinian priory.

Despite a thin rain off the fe
nland to the east, this proved to be a successful occasion. Archbishop William had found them one more suitable canon of Canterbury, as prior, another Saxon named Osbert. They brought him with them, endowing the establishment, in his presence, with rich lands, revenues, multures and the like, dedicating it to the Blessed Virgin Mary, as were all Augustinian foundations, that prayers might be offered daily for the souls of the Countess Matilda, her children and her husband the Earl David.