pride. It was a crucial turning point for him; his aura of invincibility had been shattered. Normandy suddenly looked vulnerable. Its powerful neighbours began to grow in confidence and act in concert: in the west, Geoffrey Granon, Count of Brittany; in the south-west, Fulk le Rechin, Count of Anjou; in the south-east, Philip, King of France; and in the east, Robert, Count of Flanders.
Not surprisingly, these developments were also followed with great interest by the Danish King, Cnut, sniffing the chance of more Danegeld, and by my former protector in Scotland, Malcolm Canmore.
However, the next challenge came not from William’s circle of enemies or his neighbours, but from his own son.
It was February 1078 and winter still held its grip on Normandy. However, William, as usual, had little regard for the hardships of the season and had billeted us in L’Aigle on Normandy’s southern border to begin the strengthening of the defences of the dukedom against the many threats it faced.
For the first time in a long while, William and his three sons were together. Young Henry, still only ten, was precocious and clever and relentlessly pestered his father to be allowed to travel with him. As usual, Rufus was loud and obnoxious and constantly aimed insults at Robert.
I had appointed Edwin to my hearthtroop as a knight and made young Sweyn my page. Robert liked them both, but on this expedition he was not particularly pleasant to anyone.
‘I am going to see my father. Enough is enough; I am going to demand that he grants me the dukedom in my own right. He’s got his own bloody kingdom in England, which should be enough for the old bastard!’
‘Don’t you think you should request rather than demand?’
‘No, I don’t! I’m tired of his bullying. I’m going to stand up to him. When I’m Duke, I’ll send that arsehole Rufus off to England, and his insufferable little brother will go with him. And if I hear of anyone calling me “Shortboots”, I’ll have his tongue out at its root.’
No amount of persuasion could stop him, and he duly confronted the King. It did not go well. It was unwise and ill-timed, with several courtiers within earshot.
William looked at his son impassively at first, and answered calmly.
‘I suppose you would want me to include Maine as well? It would be of no use to me in England.’
‘Of course.’
William’s volcanic temper began to growl.
‘And how do you propose to deal with our Breton friends and the Angevins? And that French upstart, Philip?’
‘Better than you did at Dol.’
That caused the volcano to erupt.
‘Do you know how long it took me to quell our troublesome neighbours? How many campaigns I had to fight? And now you want me to give it all to you so that you can call it yours! You snivelling little bastard!’
‘You’re the bastard, remember. Your mother was the whore, Herleve. My mother is a queen, a descendant of Charlemagne and Alfred the Great!’
William flew at his diminutive son, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and, while aiming several hefty kicks at his arse, threw him out of his tent.
Robert landed in a heap in full view of the King’s men and his two brothers, who roared with laughter – a signal for everyone else to do the same.
When we heard the commotion, I and Robert’s entire retinue rushed to his aid. A mass brawl ensued, with all three sons at the heart of it, until the King brought it to halt in that unmistakable voice of his.
‘Enough! Enough! I will not have brawling in my camp! If there is another example, an insult spoken or even an aside uttered, I’ll have the culprit flogged. And that includes the three of you.
‘The sons of the King of England and Duke ofNormandy do not fight with their fists like peasants. Get out of my sight!’
Robert took his father at his word and we were many miles from L’Aigle by midday the next day. It took Robert until the middle of the afternoon to calm down and to tell me his
Not surprisingly, these developments were also followed with great interest by the Danish King, Cnut, sniffing the chance of more Danegeld, and by my former protector in Scotland, Malcolm Canmore.
However, the next challenge came not from William’s circle of enemies or his neighbours, but from his own son.
It was February 1078 and winter still held its grip on Normandy. However, William, as usual, had little regard for the hardships of the season and had billeted us in L’Aigle on Normandy’s southern border to begin the strengthening of the defences of the dukedom against the many threats it faced.
For the first time in a long while, William and his three sons were together. Young Henry, still only ten, was precocious and clever and relentlessly pestered his father to be allowed to travel with him. As usual, Rufus was loud and obnoxious and constantly aimed insults at Robert.
I had appointed Edwin to my hearthtroop as a knight and made young Sweyn my page. Robert liked them both, but on this expedition he was not particularly pleasant to anyone.
‘I am going to see my father. Enough is enough; I am going to demand that he grants me the dukedom in my own right. He’s got his own bloody kingdom in England, which should be enough for the old bastard!’
‘Don’t you think you should request rather than demand?’
‘No, I don’t! I’m tired of his bullying. I’m going to stand up to him. When I’m Duke, I’ll send that arsehole Rufus off to England, and his insufferable little brother will go with him. And if I hear of anyone calling me “Shortboots”, I’ll have his tongue out at its root.’
No amount of persuasion could stop him, and he duly confronted the King. It did not go well. It was unwise and ill-timed, with several courtiers within earshot.
William looked at his son impassively at first, and answered calmly.
‘I suppose you would want me to include Maine as well? It would be of no use to me in England.’
‘Of course.’
William’s volcanic temper began to growl.
‘And how do you propose to deal with our Breton friends and the Angevins? And that French upstart, Philip?’
‘Better than you did at Dol.’
That caused the volcano to erupt.
‘Do you know how long it took me to quell our troublesome neighbours? How many campaigns I had to fight? And now you want me to give it all to you so that you can call it yours! You snivelling little bastard!’
‘You’re the bastard, remember. Your mother was the whore, Herleve. My mother is a queen, a descendant of Charlemagne and Alfred the Great!’
William flew at his diminutive son, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and, while aiming several hefty kicks at his arse, threw him out of his tent.
Robert landed in a heap in full view of the King’s men and his two brothers, who roared with laughter – a signal for everyone else to do the same.
When we heard the commotion, I and Robert’s entire retinue rushed to his aid. A mass brawl ensued, with all three sons at the heart of it, until the King brought it to halt in that unmistakable voice of his.
‘Enough! Enough! I will not have brawling in my camp! If there is another example, an insult spoken or even an aside uttered, I’ll have the culprit flogged. And that includes the three of you.
‘The sons of the King of England and Duke ofNormandy do not fight with their fists like peasants. Get out of my sight!’
Robert took his father at his word and we were many miles from L’Aigle by midday the next day. It took Robert until the middle of the afternoon to calm down and to tell me his
Similar Books
