Item: THE THIRD GENERATION
Perhaps I ought to mention here that during 1224 I became a grandparent! My daughter Alix gave birth to a son, Louis, and daughter Yolande had a little girl, Ide. The boy Louis of course was heir to the duchy of Bourbon, but he will not rule in Brittany, but I prayed for a long and happy life for each of the little children.
Item: PENTHIEVRE
In 1225 my old vassal and sometime friend, Alain, Count of Penthievre died. He was succeeded by his son Ademar. I sent the usual message of condolence at the time and summoned Ademar to Nantes for him to do homage to me for his new county of Penthievre. He had little choice but to comply, but it was not a fruitful meeting. He clearly resented his position; I merely reminded him that he enjoyed it of my good grace and that if he would rather not have it then there were plenty of others who would be only too willing to become Count of Penthievre. Nonetheless, I was on my guard.
Things were quiet for about a year, but then, not quite out of the blue, word reached me (I was at Rennes I seem to think) that Ademar had rebelled and declared war. I had the Nantes regiment mobilised and despatched forthwith to Penthievre, where on 3 September 1226 Ademar’s forces were soundly defeated, and his castle laid under siege. Everything was under control and I was well on the way to regaining control of the rebel county, when one day in early October, heralds came galloping into camp with news that I had feared – King Phillippe in person had arrived at the head of an army and was to assume control of the siege. I cursed my luck yet again at the fickleness of kings, yet there was naught I could do, and when later on in that same month the castle fell, the county was incorporated into the kingdom of France directly instead of being returned to my rightful control. How I hated King Phillippe.
Peculiarly, this turn of events threw Ademar and me together, and to my surprise, he was willing to come to court at Nantes, bringing with him a host of his own former courtiers which boosted my own flagging court and introduced some much needed new blood and skills. Although Ademar had hardly distinguished himself in his conduct of the rebellion, he was still a better prospect as marshal than anyone else so I duly invested him into that auspicious role. One of his courtiers was named Ingjerd of Norway, and she I appointed as my new steward, for she had promising administrative skills from what I had been told.
Item: LIMOUSIN
During the Penthievre fiasco, a glimmer of hope emerged, for my chancellery unearthed an old claim of the dukes of Brittany to the County of Limousin. I stored this away the time not being right to press this claim against a fellow vassal of King Phillippe’s (although after his actions in Penthievre I felt sorely tempted).
Item: THE GOOD LORD
By January 1227 I was finding it hard to cope with the administration of my extended demesne. I had never been the most gifted of administrators, and with my illness I found it hard to get excited about the routine necessary to ensure the smooth running of my demesne. Heilwiva as steward did all the hard work, and I know my lack of ability and interest used to frustrate her no end. Nevertheless, I did promise to try and multitask more.
I visited Rennes in March 1227, including a trip to the coast at Dinard. Here I was shocked at the poverty and need that I found. When I enquired what the cause was, I was informed bluntly that this is how the poor folk lived most of the time, although matters were made worse due to a particularly bad year’s fishing. Catches were down and all those dependent upon fishing for their livelihood were suffering as a consequence. I made a modest donation of eight and a half pieces of gold for poor relief, whereupon the loyalty of the peasantry rose somewhat.
Speaking of loyalty, that of my vassals seemed a bit unsure at this time, so I sent gifts to both Mathieu Count of Tir Eoghain and Edouard de Donges, Count of Lusignan (his father Louis having died recently).
Did my generosity know no bounds!? In August I decided to hold a great royal feast within Tir Connail to show my good lordship and devotion to my subjects, most of whom were seeing me for the first time (and probably the last – what a god-forsaken hole Tir Connail is! Cold, windy, rainy even in high summer)
Meanwhile I had agreed to King Ridwan’s suggestion of a white peace and thus the long term future of Lusignan seemed secure – or so I thought.
Item: TWO MILITARY ADVENTURES
I must have overplayed the generous lord, for the next thing I knew, Mathieu Count of Tir Eoghain had declared war on the King of Scots and he invited me as his lord and master to join in the fighting. Naturally I felt honour bound to protect my aggressive little vassal.
On the very same day, news reached me at Nantes that Edouard de Donges, Count of Lusignan had risen in arms against me, his lawful overlord. The men of the faithful Nantes regiment were once again arraigned and despatched south to Lusignan. There they quickly won three skirmishes (I shan’t dignify them with the name battle) against the rebel scum, and Edouard’s puny castle was soon under close siege by my men. I knew it was a race against time, for not only had my overlord, the rapacious King Phillippe joined in the war against Lusignan, but his ally, the King of Germany had also joined in and, yes, you guessed it, just as the castle was about to fall back into my hands, Heinrich Hohenstaufen King of Germany arrives on the scene, assumes command and with it control of the castle and county as it fell. It may well have been a breach of protocol, but marshal Ademar snubbed a summons from King Heinrich for a celebratory feast, and I for one did not blame him one iota.
Meanwhile, I had sent an invasion force into the Scottish lowlands, and in September in the year of grace 1229, they captured Edinburgh castle, that mighty fort set atop its granite hill. Quite how they achieved this I know not to this day (some said collusion from within, others said they used secret passages hewn out of the giant stone – it matters not, the castle fell, that was all that mattered). This was to be the high-spot of the Scottish war, for, disillusioned with Mathieu’s lack of interest in hostilities he had started, and having no inclination or right to a Scottish title, I sued for peace with king Roland, and in exchange for 500 pieces of gold, my army returned home to regain its strength.
Item: YORKSHIRE
But I am getting ahead of myself. On the last day of April 1229 a solitary horseman came clattering over the drawbridge and into the inner bailey at Nantes. From an upper window I watched the commotion he caused as he dismounted and flung the reins of his exhausted horse to one of the grooms. He was dishevelled and stained from what appeared to have been a long and hard journey. The accumulated dust and dirt from his ride obscured any trace of livery or badges denoting in whose service he rode. Heilwiva, as steward, had emerged to take charge of the situation, and perhaps some hint of the importance of the message he bore could be gauged by the inaudible gasp that had surely escaped her lips judging by the way in which she threw both hands to her face with alarm.
I watched with mounting curiosity as Heilwiva led the stranger across the bailey towards the external stairs that gave access to the keep at first storey level. Just as they passed out of my sight a small boy from the stables came hurtling around the corner and skidded to a halt by my side.
“Your Grace” he said “you must come quickly. That man has some urgent news for you.”
I patted the lad on the head and made my way towards the narrow stairs, set into the thickness of the wall that led down towards where I assumed Heilwiva had taken our guest. I negotiated two flights of stairs and, pushing aside the velvet curtain that covered the access into the great chamber that occupied the entire second floor of the keep, I entered the room to find the messenger standing with Heilwiva by the fireplace. He had a leather tankard grasped firmly in his right hand, from which he had just drunk deeply judging by the fresh liquid stains upon his jerkin. Heilwiva lifted her face towards me as I approached. Could I detect anything in her dark brown eyes? Suddenly the messenger was aware of my presence. He started and bent down low on one knee as a mark of respect.
“Your Grace” he uttered “My name is Ranulf; Ranulf of Tadcastre. I am a member of his Grace the Earl of York’s household.”
So, a messenger from my father, the old rascal. What could he possibly want after all these years? I motioned the man to his feet.
“Then you work for Earl Geoffrey, my esteemed father, do you?” said I.
“Yes, sire. Er, that is to say I did.”
And here he paused as, I suppose, a look of realisation dawned on my face.
“Sire, his Grace Earl Geoffrey is dead. You are now Earl of York, and I am your humble servant.” He gave a deep bow here in obeisance.
I turned away and padded over to the solitary narrow window and gazed aimlessly through the thick glass. What did I feel? Although I had not seen my father for many years, he was still my flesh and blood, my progenitor, and through his indiscretions the reason why I was Duke of Brittany and not he. If I felt anything it was a pang of guilt – I literally did not know the man, so how could I grieve for him. Nevertheless I crossed myself and snapped my thoughts back to the present.
“Ranulf, my thanks for your sad tidings and for the obvious effort you have expended in bringing them to me so speedily. Heilwiva, have a bed prepared for our guest. Ranulf, you will of course stay with us for a while to rest whilst I prepare a message for my people in York.” I said (or something similar).
And what did I know of my new lands in far away Yorkshire? Very little at the time if the truth be told. I knew it lay in the north of England, a couple of days hard riding from London; that it was the kingdom’s largest county, and that its chief town of York was second only in importance to London itself. Ranulf filled in a few details for me. Its income was on a par with Nantes or Rennes. Its inhabitants were fiercely proud and plain-speaking folk. Its other chief town was Kingston – the county’s principal port and chief town in the East Riding (the county was divided into three sub-divisions called Ridings to ease the administrative burden. Each of these was as large as many counties themselves). Within the West Riding were important settlements at Wakefield, Doncastre, and Sceaf-feld, all three of which had modest fortifications according to Ranulf. And in case you are wondering where Tadcastre is, the town from which Ranulf came, apparently it is but a small place on the road between York and Leodis, another of the West Riding’s lesser settlements. The final third of the county, the North Riding, was the largest by area, but is far more sparsely populated. There are no significant towns of note, but there are several monastic settlements of growing fame and fortune.
My lady, here Arthur is referring to the great Cistercian foundations at Fountains, Rievaulx, Jervaulx and Byland as well as other smaller houses of other Orders at places like Whitby, Thornton, Easby and countless other sites. My own humble house of Roche is somewhat unusual, being in the far south of the county, in the West Riding. Like all Cistercian houses it is set away from habitation; in our case in a wild and wooded valley, under a limestone cliff, the nearest settlements of note being the aforementioned Doncastre and Sceaf-feld. Boniface, prior.
In due course I came to know and love this marvellous county for myself, but that is for another day.