Crusade

‘Not at all, it would be a simple affirmation of the laws of England and your respect for them. There would be nothing new; you would acknowledge the laws enacted by your father, King William, and those he respected from his predecessors, particularly those of King Edward and Cnut the Great. You would also reject the excesses of Rufus’s reign and promise to correct the wrongs he did. You could call it your Coronation Charter and have it read in every burgh in the land. It would be a hugely popular beginning to your reign.’

Henry stared at me again, as if I were a strange creature he had never seen before.

‘Edgar, Prince of the English, you are a clever man, and, I suspect, a cunning one. But I like the idea of a Coronation Charter being read all over England. It will begin my rule in England with an outcry of popular support — something my brother never had, and certainly not my father. Can you read Latin?’

‘I can.’

‘I will get my scribes out of bed. You can work on it with them tonight — all night, if you have to. I’ll read it in the morning and, after my coronation at Westminster, I will ride to the old city to proclaim it from my father’s chapel of St John the Evangelist in the Great Tower. I will call it Henry of England’s Charter of Liberties.’

I nearly lost control at that point. For some unfathomable reason, he had proposed a title for the Charter that I would never have dreamed of suggesting, fearing it might seem too bold. I changed the subject immediately to help hide my elation.

‘And what will I say to Robert?’

‘Again, you are very astute. I wonder how much of what you told me are my brother’s words — or are they yours? But it doesn’t matter much; tell him I agree to the oaths. We will take them together, at a place of his choosing — as long as it’s not the Holy Land, of course — when he’s finished bedding his young bride. By the way, is she tall, average height…?’

‘She’s very petite.’

‘That must be a relief for little Shortboots! I will leave you to your scripting; I have the two lovely daughters of a London goldsmith awaiting my pleasure. He has sent them to plead his case to become one of my assayers. He doesn’t have very strong credentials, I’m afraid, so they are going to have to do a lot of pleading.’

34. Treaty of Alton

Sweyn and I rode out for Romsey the day after Henry’s coronation to fulfil the undertaking I had given to the King to help with his plan to marry my niece.

Although I would never tell him so, it was not a difficult task. Edith knew her own mind and she had had enough of convent life. She had turned twenty years of age and, although she had attracted many suitors, this new one would make her Queen of England.

Archbishop Anselm was recalled from Normandy and he duly resolved the ecclesiastical issue of Edith’s status as a nun. Taking the Norman name Matilda, she was married and crowned Queen later in the year.

Significantly for me, as the Queen’s uncle, the marriage made me a part of England’s royal household and rendered my status as a prince of the realm real again. I was entitled to an allowance from the King’s purse, a small retinue of my own and a chamber at Westminster. I made Sweyn my steward, thus making him an official member of the King’s court and free to come and go as he pleased.

There were only a handful of Englishmen in his position.

When we returned to Westminster from Romsey, we were met with the news that a guest had arrived to see us — a nun, Estrith, Abbess of Fecamp.

We were lodging in the King’s palace at Westminster, a beautiful collection of buildings behind old King Edward’s towering cathedral and very close to the River Thames. Estrith was waiting in the King’s garden just upriver, next to the stairs which led down to the mooring for his royal barge. It was a bright, fresh morning and I could see, even at a distance, that Estrith looked as fetching as ever.

She rushed towards us and embraced us, while a young nun showed us the heavily swaddled two-year-old Harold of Hereford, who was smiling cheerfully. Sweyn beamed in delight at being reunited with Harry.

Estrith glowed with pride as we admired her young son. ‘He’s doing well. This is Mabel, who is helping me with him.’

Sweyn had a stream of questions — rate of growth, appetite, temperament — all the usual things that every father demands to know before deciding that, firstly, his son is just like him and, secondly, he has no peers in all the important gifts. Here was a boy who I felt sure was destined to live a life as remarkable as his parents and grandparents.

Mabel and I stood back after a while to let Sweyn and Estrith walk along the river, which was in full flow with the deep waters of a high tide, and enjoy a few private minutes with their son.

However, when they returned, Estrith’s happy demeanour in greeting us was soon gone.

‘We mustn’t be too much longer, we don’t have much time. Mabel, please take Harry for a while.’