Chapter 2
Ramnulf II’s Story: A clash of dynasties…
Being a student of history I sometimes wonder, in my private moments, what the Great King, my great great grandfather, Charles Le Magne would have made of the imbroglio that his successors have made of his legacy. It has only been seventy years, after all, since his death of pleurisy. He had united the diverse peoples of the Frankish Kingdom of Francia whether French or German and had also added a large part of Italy to his demesne. The great man, whose name was uttered in hushed and reverential tones by my father, split his far-reaching territories amongst his sons but only one of them, Louis, survived him, thus inheriting the whole Empire. It is this law of succession that, perforce, we are all now obliged to follow-custom and a desire to ape the great king demanded it: splitting our demesnes amongst our sons, that I find contrary to good governance and stability-and yet-I was not obliged by my father to share…I will speak more of this later good chronicle-suffice to say that, for now, I have my eye on this law.
So this Louis-our present King’s father, had suffered a series of devastating civil wars in the 830s: his implacable sons at war with themselves and their father-an empire at odds with itself. It was during these turbulent times that my father was honoured with the County of Poitiers-itself snatched in 835 from its previous Lord, a traitor and rebel. It was my father’s good fortune to be the firstborn of this Louis’ daughter, Rotrude-my grandmother no less! Now the two most powerful parts of the empire were the Eastern and Western parts of Francia with Italy a subordinate lesser portion. The Dukedom of Aquitaine, itself, a demesne that actually stretched back to Roman times, was resurrected for my father in 852 by his Uncle, Charles The Bald, King of the West Franks and though similar in age my father and my great uncle were like ice and fire in their dispositions: where my father was fiery and lustful, his liege was reserved and chaste; where Ramnulf I saw opportunity and adventure, our king only saw danger and plot. Charles the Bald was as bland to look at as my father was striking-so much so that his much older brothers had accused their own father of introducing a changeling into the family and had promptly rebelled when the old Emperor had tried to apportion some of the vasty realm to him. Thus was this King, forever looking over his shoulder and wary of the plotting of his brothers, Ludwig the German and Lothair of Italy-nominally the Emperor.
Such was the twisted tapestry that was our empire when I became Duke and I will tell, in time, of how this turbulent brew erupted forth in the years following my accession and how in spite of all I continued to scheme and compass the advancement of our dynasty-we have royal blood in our veins after all: the blood of Charlemagne-why should we not envisage a throne?
But first let me tell of my wife-that lovely Navarrese, Princess. If you recall that upon our nuptials, early in 867, she was decidedly cool towards me. Fortunately for me having had word, from Geoffrey of Thouars, that it was not likely that there would be a move from my brother and his rebels for at least a year, I set about wooing my lovely bride. Do not mistake me for she was dutiful enough in the bedroom, never shy to pay the marriage debt but I wanted her heart and by goodness I would have it! That summer I set about a devious set of ruses to win her heart, what, I wonder, would she think of her gallant Lord if she knew that the series of ‘incidents’ that had befallen her and myself were all part of my intricate design. No matter-as the autumn leaves were falling about our beautiful city and as I contemplated a letter from my King summonsing me to his Court at Paris to become his Steward, my bride fell into my arms declaring herself a fool for resisting me for so long-her heart, body and soul utterly mine.
‘My good lady,’ I had smiled at her as she wrapped herself in my embrace, ‘you would inveigle me to commit a mortal sin for the bible says…’
‘The bible be damned my Lord-neither you nor I have any time for slavish devotion to its teachings-now take me-swive me like the master of all you are!’
My half-in-jest allusion to sin had been aimed at the time of day; the bells had not long rung for
terce and us fully dressed and ready to break our fast-but I had taken her nonetheless, right up against my study desk-our cries of passion no doubt scandalising any scullion who was thereabouts. From that day onwards my lady’s heart was utterly mine whilst I continued to look upon her with wonder. She would be the love of my life, throughout my life through all and despite the five barren years that were to follow...
I truly love her and her heart is mine!
I might have had my Council, not all of whom were foursquare behind me but, By God, in Geoffrey of Thouars did I have the truest of mainstays and supports. I liked the man too-he never dissembled-not to me at least and I quickly learned that I could trust him with my life. With my brother the subject of plots to oust me I came to rely on him utterly-even for information that should have been the preserve of Gauzbert, as Chancellor.
‘Come my Lord I would fain hear more of my fellow Barons in the realm,’ I had asked him one rainy September afternoon when most were indoors, perforce, to escape the damp humour of the day. Geoffrey was more often at Saintes than in his own manors and lands in Thouars-what his good lady made of that I could not say. Certes behind that affable brown-red beard was a man who would not be gainsaid either by his wife or anyone.
‘Let us sit your grace and I will tell you all.’ He had replied smoothly almost as if he’d known that I would be asking such a question of him-my suspicions strengthened when he unfurled a scroll that he had been carrying upon which were all the Lords that owed allegiance to our King: his ability to sense what was needed from him so uncanny it had some more pious folk suggesting he practised the dark arts. I no more believed these tales than I did the rumours that the local Jewry feasted upon Christian babies but his prescience was sometimes downright eerie.
'As you will know my Lord you have a mortal enemy in Duke Boudewijn of Flanders-the Keeper of the Swans of West Francia no less!’
I snorted in derision: the rivalry between myself and Flanders was well known to all-we had been warring since childhood after all and though he was a few years my elder our fierce dislike of each other had abated nothing not least because he had never been reconciled to the award of the powerful Dukedom of Poitou to my father, lands that he and his claimed as their own and was, furthermore, jealous of my family’s royal blood. Nonetheless he was counted the foremost baron in the land whilst I was seen as West Francia’s third most powerful magnate, behind Duke Hugo of Anjou.
‘Our esteemed Seneschal plots to put Charles’s brother, Ludwig the German, on the throne of West Francia see you
mon Duc.’
I whistled softly ‘Anjou? Certes?’ I was greeted only by a determined stare. These were ill tidings for the King for Anjou could muster many lances to his banners.
‘You are acquainted with the Counts of Troyes and Boulogne I believe my lord-neither holds you in any great esteem. The Marshall of West Francia is the Mayor of Paris whilst my counterpart for the King is the Mayor of Compiegne.’
‘Indeed Geoffrey but it is mayhap the Lords of Aquitaine that I should be more mindful of think you not? They are a fractious and ill disciplined lot.’
At this Geoffrey smiled, ‘well you have allies there at least: your uncle of Limousin and the Duke of Toulouse. Of the others you have firm enemies in the Dukes of Gascogne and Auvergne, Occitan Lords who mislike your Frankish blood. Boudewijn of Flanders we know well already.’
I sighed ‘It is as well that I owe fealty to the Stammerer’s father then and not to him eh Geoffrey!’ I exclaimed clapping him on the back-‘come my Lord let’s away to the Great Hall-I am passing hungry.’
In the matter of my accepting the invitation to join the Council of my King as Steward I delayed an answer for over a year, long enough to be assured that my departure for the Court would not trigger the looked for revolt by my brother. I had, at Michaelmas 868, cautiously answered that West Francia already had a Steward, none other than the puissant Count Eudes of Bourges, Blois and Bourbon, but I was not to be gainsaid. Not more than two months later I was reading his reply-an elegantly written Latin missive on a scroll of pure vellum:
My Lord Duke-it is not often that your King has need of you. I would fain surround myself with blood kin and with Lords that I know esteem me and in whom I can place my absolute trust. West Francia needs you, Ramnulf. You will follow the path of my nephew, your father, and help make our Kingdom and our Empire truly great. I will expect you at my Court before the winter snows have melted.
Carolus Rex
I could hardly resist such a summons! It was time to make ready to move to the great city of Paris. Thus I ordered that we would travel with a few servants, a small household and my good wife. Ahead I sent my Steward, Alphonse, to find us suitable lodgings within the city, whilst I met with various of my Vassals to ensure that all well in order within my estates. I was assured by all that this was so but I nonetheless met secretly with Geoffrey and Solomon of Lusignan, a leader of the local Jewry there.
‘I presume that my surety still stands Solomon?’ I had asked sternly for whilst I harboured not the visceral fear and loathing of Jews that so many of my Christian brethren did I still found them a suspicious lot.
The strangely dressed elder had bowed and scraped-the monies would be mine just as soon as I bade it so.
Solomon of Lusignan-a handy man to know!
Before I went I made one last attempt to win my brother to my side, arranging an advantageous marriage portion for him to the daughter of the Italian Count of Bologna, a rotund but pleasant enough wench called Berta. Bologna was a rich man and would greatly enrich my brother with a suitable dowry. At the same time I had bid my youngest brother, Eblés, wed the daughter of a petty Irish lordling, King Aed of Tara. They were both marriages above their station but if gratitude there was in such apportionment there was none such shown to me. Both brothers greeted the news with sullen resentment.
You'd think my brothers would be grateful-pah!
So in February 869 and whilst the snows were still fast about the land, our party had made the frigid journey from Saintes to Poitiers where we harboured up-the great fortified town there being the last in our estates. From there and with me marvelling at my wife’s horsemanship-she could ride as well and as far as any man-we traversed across the plains from Tours to Blois and thence to Orléans, where we crossed the mighty Loire. Between the great forests of Orléans and Dourdan we rode until on the tenth day we finally arrived at the splendid walled city of Paris, seat of the Merovingian Kings before our own Charlemagne and his Karlings had arrived on the scene-now the centre of power of West Francia.
And whilst myself and my party were indeed awed by the mighty walls and the many grand buildings within I could not help but also consider that this same city had been thrice attacked by the pagan Norse in the last fifty years..
The heathens are repelled by Frankish Knights c845 AD
Whilst we were settling into our spacious and pleasant new lodgings just to the south of the Île de Cité, a courtier soon informed me that my King would hold an audience with me in his palace at Melun, a half a days ride to our South East. Furthermore, due to the recent rebellion headed by the Duke of Flanders, the audience would be at noon on the morrow, I was haughtily told, my Ducal sensibilities bridling at the peremptory tone in which I was being addressed. It was my wife, attentive as always, who caught me by the arm and ushered me from the herald’s presence.
This vaunting lord's ambitions know no bounds it would seem!
‘You would do well to remember that you are now playing at the court of Kings and Emperors my Lord husband. ‘ She had said with that alluring smile of hers that never failed to have my loins stir. If frustration there was between us for the continuing lack of offspring it did not show one iota-her womb failing to quicken was not through want of trying.
‘Indeed not my Princess,’ I had whispered huskily, pressing my hardness tight against her ‘now-about that son we so badly want…’
It was as we lay in post coital bliss upon our still, as yet unmade bed, that there was a commotion without. Mouth hardening in anger I snatched up my britches and chemise and headed out into the cold vestibule shouting for an answer for this disturbance the colour rising in my cheeks as I contemplated how I might tell the King, my Liege, that I was not some chattel to be used thus.
I was stopped in my tracks by the cognisance of the messenger: blue lillies against a yellow background and the big red square in the top left corner-heraldic symbol of the Counts of Thouars.
I hailed the man in rough Frankish, ‘You Sirrah! What news from my Lord of Thouars?’ But even as I asked my suspicious and paranoid mind was already at its feverish work-what else could bring the messenger hot on our heels but tidings of insurrection and rebellion?
‘My Lord,’ the man responded in fluent Latin, ‘your vassal, the Count of Perigord, has raised his banners in revolt-they would elevate your brother to your titles in your place. My master bid me ride as if the furies themselves were on my heels-I got through three horses to get here in as many days.’
I breathed out slowly. Meantime my lady wife had dressed and joined us-her look appraising and deducing the situation in an instant.
‘You have done well so to warn us sir-I will see that you are well rewarded.’ I turned to Ximena, ‘My lady I needs must return to Saintes-pressing matters of state do call me back there. It would seem that my brother is not content with the great esteem, offices and marriage portion that I have arranged for him, instead encompasses that he will reach for my lands and titles..’
She nodded simply, any worry that she might have felt carefully concealed. I received an embrace and a whispered ‘Godspeed you back to me safe my lord.’ And with that I was gone headed for the stables and my horse. It was my first test and it had come, as expected, from the bosom of my family-would that the Jews would keep to their promises and that Liop and Geoffrey were even now executing my carefully laid plans…
That faithless brother-he will pay!
. I'm still improving but it takes time.
