That produced silence at the table.
"So we must do other," she went on. "If we would prove and establish our good purpose. I have been thinking about this, whilst you men ran and jumped and frolicked like colts! I say that we should found another abbey! Here!"
They stared at her - they all stared, even Abbot Ralph.
"But . . . but . . . !' David began.
"Why not?" she asked. "Shiel Kirk has been notably successful. But - is it to be the only true abbey in Scotland? It has brought already much of good to the west side of this Forest-as well as glorifying God. Would not another, in the east, be as valuable? It is costly, I know well - but meantime we have sufficient moneys to make a start. And, once started, by God's good grace it will be completed. Somehow."
"I think that is right, what should be done," Beatrix de Beauchamp supported loyally. "The moneys will come."
"When King Henry hears of it, will they?" David wondered. "He is displeased with me for building this castle with what he names English gold. How would he look on another Scots abbey?"
"Must it be
English
gold?" Cospatrick demanded. "Can sufficient not be found in Scotland?
I
would find some. For a great monastery here would much aid Teviotdale. As Shiel Kirk has aided Ettrick and Yarrow and Upper Tweed. Bringing trade and all manner of good."
"Yes, best if indeed it could be built with Scots moneys," Matilda agreed. "I believe, once it was started, support would come. But it would require you to start it, David. And you could, surely? Since this Sheriff Gilbert has been acting for you in Huntingdon and Northampton, the revenues have increased. He is an excellent man. Let us use the more moneys, while we may. If Henry stops them, as you fear, then we must find other moneys."
-
David still looked very doubtful.
"This is still the Forest, is it not?" she went on. "Ettrick Forest - royal demesne. Would not Alexander give you more land of it?"
"The Forest, and the royal lands, end here. Where Teviot joins Tweed. Eastwards is Cospatrick's earldom of the March."
"I would give land," Cospatrick said. "But, see you - I would rather that you placed your abbey further up Teviot. Where it would serve more purpose. Here, at Rook's Burgh, there is a church, small as it is and Columban. And now there is this castle. But up the dale, for long miles, there is nothing. The old abandoned cashel at Jedworth, that is all. A new abbey up there would do great things for Teviotdale."
"Ah, yes
-
Jedworth," David took him up. "The old Columban monastery there - that is a thought. To revive a house of God which has sunk away . . . ? Better that than a new one. Better in all respects - even for Henry's ears! Not any new abbey, but a renewal. And reformed to the Roman obedience
"Yes, yes — that would be it!" Matilda agreed eagerly. "Jedworth Abbey! That is good . . ."
It was at this juncture that a weary messenger arrived. He came from King Alexander, at Stirling, but via Caer-luel. His errand was of the saddest. Alex sent word that both their brother Ethelred, Earl of Moray, and their sister Mary, Countess of Boulogne, were dead. Mary, it seemed, had died some time earlier, in France, but the news had been slow in reaching Scotland. She left four children. Eth had actually been on a visit to London to see Maud when he suddenly sickened and died within a day or two. Alex was anxious that his body should be brought back to Scotland for burial at Dunfermline beside their parents and brothers. Would David see to this?
David was much upset. He had not been as close to Eth as he had been to his sisters, who had shared his long exile in Romsey Abbey; but he had liked what he had seen of him. Also he had a strong sense of family. In a way, he felt almost responsible, for he had sent word of Maud's poor state to Alex and had urged him to go to see their sister if he could, and if that was not possible, at least to send Eth, for Maud was ill, lonely and felt deserted. And now - this! As for Mary, he had not seen her for years, but had thought of her a lot and hoped that she was faring better than was Maud.
It was, of course, a major inconvenience for him to leave all, at short notice, and travel down to London; but he felt that it was the least that he could do in his brother's memory - beside it being something in the nature of a royal command. There was no desperate hurry, to be sure, for presumably Maud would have the body embalmed for the journey back. But he could scarcely look forward to the occasion. He had not enjoyed his previous and much shorter pilgrimage with his father's corpse. He had hoped that it was not to become a habit. At least, it would provide an opportunity to call at Huntingdon and see the Sheriff over certain issues — and deprive Henry of another chance to say that he was neglecting his earldoms.
Matilda announced that she would come with him, and would not be dissuaded. She quite enjoyed travel with her husband, finding it a break from the responsibilities of chatelaine and mother - and she did not often achieve this. Besides, she wanted to see Maud again, of whom she was fond. She had never met Ethelred, so it would be a strange encounter.
There was no more talk about a new abbey that Midsummer's Day.
18
I
t seemed that
death stalked the royal houses of Scotland and England. David and Matilda were only weeks back from their London journey, with its melancholy return with Eth's body, when the tidings reached them that Maud had died. Admittedly she had been in a sorry state when they had left her, still at the Abbey of Westminster, with no reconciliation with Henry; but she had seemed little worse than on David's previous visit. There was no great surprise in this tragedy, of course; it had seemed to be only a question of time, with the Queen having little will to live. But it was sad news, for Maud had been quite the favourite of all David's family. That the English people were apparently everywhere mourning the Good Queen Maud, was only moderate consolation.
Then, not long afterwards, there were further drastic tidings to reach Caer-luel. William the Atheling, Henry's only lawful son and heir, was dead aged barely seventeen and just married. Henry had been over in Normandy, where he spent a lot of his time these days - he had imprisoned his brother Robert the Duke in Bristol Castle for life - and he and his family were returning to England from Barfleur. At the last moment, Henry sent his family in a different ship from his own. This vessel had run into a reef and began to sink. The prince had got away in one of the small boats, when he learned that his illegitimate half-sister, Marie, Countess de Perche, was still aboard, left behind in the confusion. He insisted on turning back to save her. But on reaching the sinking ship's side so many other desperate folk jumped down into the small boat that it overturned and sank, all being drowned.
Henry was reported to be desolated, for William was the apple of his eye as well as his only male heir born lawfully, a youth of great promise. For England too it was a disaster, for William was the representative, through his mother, of the ancient Saxon line.
So perhaps Maud was re-united with her son in the next world, although denied his company in this.
Only the following year there was still another demise in the family, when Alexander's Queen Sybilla died suddenly. Details of her passing were scanty, unlike those of her half-brother and sister. All that was told was that she had died at Loch Tay in Highland Druim-Alban, whether likewise from drowning or other accident, or from sickness, was not stated. What she was doing up at Loch Tay was not reported either, she who lived her own life; but apparently the King was not present. All that was added was that Alexander, significantly, did not want her to be buried with the rest of the royal family at Dunfermline, and had had her interred merely on an islet in the loch there. Even by Alexander's standards this seemed distinctly drastic for a Queen of Scotland; but it was said that the King intended to found a nunnery on the island, in Sybilla's memory - a nice touch for the Queen, who had been no nun.
If this last fatality affected David a great deal less, emotionally, than did the others, it nevertheless affected him more keenly otherwise. For it meant, of cou
r
se, that Alexander was now a widower and free to marry again and possibly produce a son to heir the throne; so that David's position as heir-presumptive might now be short-lived. This did not greatly worry him, for he had never set his heart on becoming King of
Scots; but it obviously could much affect his future life. And it might conceivably affect Alex's attitude towards him. With Henry no longer his close friend, and Alexander possibly requiring him less, his secure position relative to both kingdoms could change notably. He might be glad to be merely and modestly Earl of Huntingdon one of these days.
Meantime there were developments and problems nearer home. Surprisingly, Abbot Ralph was summoned back to Tiron to try to fill the shoes of the late Bernard, a great compliment to him but a sad loss. His coadjutor, the monk William, reigned as Abbot of Shiel Kirk in his stead. Unfortunately the hiatus coincided with a raid on Shiel Kirk by a large band of caterans from the Forest. The Abbey itself was not greatly damaged but most of the now substantial cattle and sheep stocks were driven off and much gear and plenishing stolen. There had been minor raids previously but nothing on this scale. David personally led a quite strong punitive expedition to try to comb out that north-westerly quarter of the huge Ettrick Forest - an expedition which was less successful than its size and illustrious composition warranted. They managed to catch, try and hang a few outlaws; but the terrain was so wild and difficult that they lost many more than they could apprehend. The Normans suggested that they should burn the entire area systematically - which was how the Conqueror and Rufus had dealt with such situations — but David would not countenance such indiscriminate devastation. Better a few rogues escaped, than .that.
The Rook's Burgh Castle experiment was a success, at any rate, with an undeniably settling influence on the eastern marches area. David sought to reside there for ever longer periods. Matilda greatly liked the place, as did the children. Moreover, the new monastery at Jedworth, only eight miles up-river, was growing apace and requiring superintendence. They had decided that it should be only a priory, meantime, not an abbey, as less ambitious - for David was spending money elsewhere in the prodigal style, whilst it lasted, egged on by Matilda. As some kind of memorial to his sister Maud - as also to his brother Edward, who had died nearby - he had sent to the monastery of Canons Regular which she had founded in London, for a group of monks to form a nucleus. A Saxon named Osbert came, with half-a-dozen others. Although not another Ralph, Osbert was an able man with considerable initiative; but never having been a prior or master of an establishment, he lacked the experience to plan and set up a new community in all its ramifications, so that he required much assistance and guidance.
As well as this project, the other destination for the Huntingdon revenues was a series of smaller castles all over the Forest area, and elsewhere, which David saw as an answer to the lawlessness problem which bedevilled that great green wilderness, and to some extent all the borderland. These would not be powerful strongholds like Rook's Burgh, set up to deal with English invasion and major border raiding, but more modest strengths, with small garrisons, designed to keep a curb on bands of brigands and broken men, and to which local folk could turn for protection and help. It was a new conception of David's own, to meet a pressing need - and although not so costly as abbey-building, still demanded a great deal of money, for he envisaged fully a score of such keeps and towers, some of them, as at Peebles and Hawick and Lochmaben, large enough to act also as hunting-lodges. He likewise encouraged his lieutenants, de Brus, de Soulis, de Lindsay and the rest, to erect similar strengths in their own bailiwicks.
All this finding of sites for castles, and superintending the work, entailed much quartering of the country, constant travel, not only of the central Forest area but of the East and West Marches likewise, with Galloway also - for David was concerned that his pacification and settlement policy should apply to all the territory over which, meantime, he had control - so that he came to know the land probably better than any other one man before him. None other had had his far
-
flung oversight and responsibility; certainly none had taken it so seriously. He did not pursue his building campaign in Cumbria, however, lacking Henry's authority. He wrote to that king suggesting it but did not receive any reply. Henry was back in Normandy, which dukedom he was now ruling with a heavy hand, and where he now married the youthful Adelicia, daughter of Godfrey, Count of Louvain, whom David had encountered at Woodstock. If there was a new heir to the English throne, he would not have any of the ancient Saxon blood.
These Normandy preoccupations of Henry's perhaps had the effect of lessening his concern for details in England; for the monk Eadmer was permitted to come to Scotland as Bishop of St. Andrews, at last. Satisfaction with this long-delayed development was short-lived, however. Even before the new Primate was installed formally, he fell out with Alexander. The King claimed that he must ceremonially invest the Bishop as Primate and
Ard Episcop
of Scotland. But Eadme
r refused anything such, saying that in all matters religious Ralph of Canterbury was his superior, not any earthly monarch; and Ralph had already invested him as Primate of Scotland as well as consecrating him bishop. Furiously, Alexander pointed out that Archbishop Ralph had no least authority to invest anyone as anything in Scotland. Why did he think that he, Alexander, had refused Thurstan of York's nominations if it was to have Canterbury claiming hegemony in his place? There had been complete impasse for some time until both agreed to a reluctant compromise. Eadmer would accept the episcopal ring of investiture from off the altar, at Alexander's hands, in ceremony, whilst he himself took up the pastoral staff, as from the hand of God Himself. With this uneasy device, the new Bishop was declared
Ard Episcop
,
King's Bishop and Primate.