Chapter I – The Reign of Sir Ralph Neville (1066 - ….)
Part I - Godwinslayer
25th December 1066 - Westminster Abbey
Nobles from all of William's realm had traveled to London to witness the coronation of the new King of England, or Angliétèrre as it was called now. Ralph was not able to see much of the ceremony. He was only a minor knight and although he had saved the Duke's life twice William seemed to have forgotten about him. As such he only got a place at the very end of Westminster Abbey. William spoke the oath with his usual deep and firm voice, and then Ealdred, the Archbishop of somewhere far in the North, carefully placed the crown on William's head. As the King rose and turned around, everyone bent the knee. Ralph dared to risk a look at him and thought to see an expression of pure joy in the King's face. “Arise!” the King said and the crowd rose up. “Hail the King” it sounded unanimously through the Abbey. Then the new ruler over Angliétèrre left the church and everyone followed him outside all agog with expectations of the upcoming feast.
Ralph made his way to the banquets stuffed with food. Servants with wine and ale scurried their way through the crowds, refilling empty cups. After he had secured himself a spot at one of the tables Ralph gobbled the pheasant meat he had in front of him and poured it down the throat with a strong ale. It would become an enjoyable evening he was sure of it. From the corner of his eye Ralph saw his neighbours turn their heads towards him. As he looked up everyone was staring at him. Suddenly a heavy paw pat on his back.
“Well well, if that's not Sir Ralph the Godwinslayer” the King said. William “the Conqueror” as he styled himself now, stood right behind Ralph.
“Your Grace, you honour me with your presence” Ralph replied awestruck. The King seemed amused about the young man's blushing.
“I need to hear the story again how you slew that Saxon swine Leofwine.”
Ralph had almost forgot; the huscarl he killed at the Battle at Hastings before being knocked unconscious had indeed been one of Harold Godwinson's brothers. He only found out after the battle as he was being patched up by a surgeon. Ralph would have been dead as well if it wouldn't have been for Hamelin de Conventry. The warrior had lunged himself on Gyrth Godwinson, the man who had struck down Ralph in rage as he saw the death of his brother. Together with three other soldiers Hamelin slew the older brother that had tried to avenge his younger sibling's death. After the fall of their leaders and the eventual death of Harold himself the Saxons had routed the field and William's way to London lay open.
“Come on, what are you waiting for” the King's voice broke through his memories. Ralph sorted his thoughts and began, adding a small detail here and there but leaving out the not so interesting parts. After he had finished William burst out in laughter.
“That's a tale to remember, my son.” Then he turned towards the other guests:
“Such a magnificent deed demands a reward, don't you think?” The crowd yelled
“Aye.”
“That's what I thought” the King replied.
“Sir Ralph, have you ever heard of Warwickshire?”
“I - I am afraid I don't, your Grace” Ralph stuttered bewildered.
“You will get plenty of time to get to know it better then." The King grinned as he kept on talking
"I hereby bestow you the title Count of Warwick and its surrounding lands. Will you serve me as a loyal vassal even in dire times?”
“I swear it, my Lord. I can not thank you enough, your Grace” Ralph stammered, he could not believe what just happened to him.
On the other side of the table someone shouted
“A toast” and the King raised his cup:
“To the new Count of Warwick” Ralph stood up:
“And to William the Conqueror. May his reign be blessed.”
Ralph Neville, 1st Earl of Warwick
Part II - The Wedding
10th January 1067 - Warwick Castle
Ralph restlessly walked up and down in his chambers. Despite the cold he felt sweat running down his back. The waiting made him uneasy and the longer he had to stay locked up here in hope of the messenger arriving, the sillier he felt. What if they had stood him up? Or if they had been attacked by highway men?
“Calm, Ralph, everything will be fine” he mumbled in the hopes that this would actually ease the nervousness. But who has he trying to trick; he was still as tense as he had been when he slipped into his best clothes earlier.
Finally he heard the patter of horse hoofs in the castle yard. He grabbed his coif, a gift from Duke William, no... King William now, and hurried down the stairs. In his haste he bumped into his Steward Gilbert who was on his way to inform him about the messenger. With a scream they toppled over each other.
“Bloody hell Gilbert, look at what you've done. Now my best clothes are all dirty” Ralph snarled at him.
“I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of all the guests.”
Trying to keep a shimmer of dignity the middle aged man got up and bowed down immediately afterwards.
“My sincerest apologies, my Lord. I didn't mean to...”
“Ah never mind, it's not your fault” Ralph intercepted him.
“It's the wedding, It got me all itchy”
The steward could not hide the grin on his face
“Aye my Lord, even fearless warriors like yourself are not immune to the excitement it brings. But concerning the messenger: the Montgomeries will be here in the quarter of an hour. We should prepare the last things.”
With a nod Ralph made his way downstairs.
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Freezing wind whirled the snowflakes around as Ralph and his councillors awaited the carriage. Roger de Montgomery and a dozen Knights rode ahead. The Count was a slender man, not short but not tall either. Being one of King William's principal advisers he was a powerful man within the realm. He called the Counties of Alençon and Sussex his own and was governing Normandy in William's absence. Ralph thought he had made a good match marrying into this man's dynasty. Now he only had to hope his promised would be as fair as Roger had made her out to be when he sealed the betrothal with Ralph two weeks ago.
After the King had granted him Warwick Castle and the fertile lands around it Ralph was suddenly a man of power. Montgomery must have thought that as well as he came over and congratulated him to his new title. Some cups of ale later he and Roger had agreed to a betrothal between Ralph and Roger's second daughter Sibyl. And now here he stood, the Count had come at last.
Ralph greeted his soon to be father in law with a firm handshake.
“Good to see you again Lord Montgomery.”
“Likewise” the Count responded.
“Let us get inside, I don't want you to freeze to death.” Putting his arm around the shoulder of Count Roger he led Montgomery towards the small church. He did not turn around to see Sibyl get out of the carriage, it was a bad omen to see your bride in her wedding dress before the actual ceremony started.
As the Count was waiting for his daughter to reach the church, Ralph stepped up to Father Arnald. The Bishop of Coventry who would lead the ceremony was still young, Ralph guessed he was in his early twenties. A lot of “Oh” and “Ah” from the entrance of the abbey made him turn around and with a quiet sigh he felt the weight of one thousand stones drop from his shoulders. Down the central nave Count Roger and his daughter entered the church. She is not fat, Ralph thought to himself. Although corpulence was a sign for good childbearing hips, Ralph had never been attracted to this kind of women. As his bride and her father came closer, Ralph got sweaty hands. Roger de Montgomery stopped 2 steps in front of the Count of Warwick. With a tear in his eye he kissed his daughter a last time and tenderly placed Sibyl's arm on Ralph's. As Montgomery took his seat in the front row Ralph tried to catch a glimpse on Sibyl's face but the veil thwarted this attempt. Ralph and Sibyl stepped forward.
Bishop Arnald began his prayers; after what felt like eternity he turned around to the altar. As he faced the couple again he held a small wooden box in his hands. With a smile on his face he came closer.
“The oaths my Lord, my Lady” he said.
Ralph took her hand and spoke the words.
“I, Ralph Neville, Count of Warwick take thee Sibyl de Montgomery to my wedded wife, till death us depart, and thereto I plight thee my troth.” After he had finished, Sibyl repeated the words.
“I, Sibyl de Montgomery, take thee Ralph Neville to my wedded husband, till death us depart, and thereto I plight thee my troth”, she spoke with a smooth voice. The Bishop opened the box and handed the couple the rings. Ralph hands were shaking as he put the ring on her finger. As Sibyl was putting the ring unto his finger he could feel her hands tremble as well.
“In the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ I hereby declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” Ralph gently lifted the veil and looked Sibyl in the eyes. He soaked up every detail: Her long black hair enframed her face, she had brown eyes and full lips. For this moment Ralph thought he had never seen anything more beautiful than her. As he leaned forward to kiss her, the crowd started cheering and applauding.
Ralph Neville and his wife Sibyl de Montgomery
