Twice Royal Lady

by Hilary Green

  ‘By the mass! I might as well fuck an effigy in the churchyard! Are you made of stone, woman? Have you no human feelings?’

  It was too much. She burst into tears, but they were tears of anger as well as pain. ‘I? Have I no feelings? How can you ask that? It is you who has no feelings! Otherwise you would not hurt me so.’

  He drew back. ‘Hurt you?’

  ‘Yes, you hurt me! How can you be so cruel?’

  He glared at her for a moment. Then he grabbed his robe and went back to his own room.

  Next day, two doctors arrived. She was in her solar, trying to read, while her ladies sewed and gossiped.

  ‘We have orders from the King to examine the Queen,’ one of them said. ‘Pray prepare her.’

  Magda took her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and pulled up her skirts. She struggled up and pulled them down again.

  ‘What do they want? What are they going to do?’ she demanded. But Magda’s hand on her shoulder forced her back and when the doctors approached the one who seemed to be the senior said severely, ‘We have our orders from His Grace. Pray do not force me to call your women to hold you down.’

  The examination left her weeping with rage and humiliation. The doctors bowed themselves out of the room without explaining their conclusions. When they had gone she grabbed Magda’s hand.

  ‘Why? Why did they do that to me?’

  Magda frowned. ‘The King must be dissatisfied. You know your duty as a wife. Have you done it?’

  ‘Yes! Yes … but he was not pleased. I don’t understand why.’

  Magda patted her hand. ‘I have a friend – one of the King’s waiting men. He may hear something. I will try to find out.’

  Later that day, when she was undressing her for bed, she whispered, ‘My friend overheard the doctors talking to His Grace. It seems he is concerned that you may be incapable of being a proper wife to him.’

  ‘Incapable? But I let him do what he wanted.’

  ‘Well, we have evidence of that. The blood on your sheets. He cannot put you away on those grounds.’

  ‘Put me away?’

  ‘If the marriage was not consummated His Grace could apply to the Pope for an annulment.’

  ‘Then what would happen to me?’

  ‘I imagine you would be sent back to your father in England.’

  ‘But it was! It was! He cannot deny that.’

  ‘The doctors will have been able to verify that you are no longer intact. You need have no fear on those grounds. But it may be that the King is worried that you will be unable to give him an heir. If you were to conceive, that would put an end to the matter.’

  From then on her ardent prayers were that she may already be with child. A week later it became apparent that she was not.

  Henry came to her room.

  ‘I have spoken to the doctors who examined you. They tell me that you are too young to bear a child and if you were to quicken it might result in your death and that of the babe.’

  She had prepared her answer. ‘Forgive me, sire. I am young and ignorant about these matters. I am sorry if you are dissatisfied, but I beg you not to send me back to my father. It would cause a great scandal and he would not be pleased. He is a powerful ally and I think you need his goodwill.’

  His eyes narrowed but he gave a small smile. ‘Whatever you lack in bed, I am told you have an astute brain and an understanding of affairs that is beyond your years. You have just proved that. The doctors suggest that I should abstain from congress until you are a little older. The time will come, they think, when you will be able to provide me with the heir I need. So for now I will not force you to a duty you find so distasteful.’

  The relief was so great that she almost burst into tears. ‘Your Grace, your kindness is such that I cannot find words to thank you. I promise that I will try to fulfil my duty. A little time is all I ask.’

  ‘Have no doubt, madam, that the time will come when I shall require you to make that promise good. Meanwhile, though you may not be able to fulfil the duties of a wife, I require you to fulfil your role as a queen. From now on I expect you to be at my side, both in council and at ceremonial events. It is time you learned how the affairs of the kingdom are regulated.’

  Next day he sent for her. He was sitting behind a large table, on which maps were spread, and several of his closest advisers were with him. He dismissed them and indicated that she should sit opposite him. She had a sudden impulse to build upon this new trust, to prove to him that she was worthy of it. She sank to her knees.

  ‘Your Grace, may I ask a boon?’

  ‘Ask.’

  ‘You have imprisoned Adalbert, the Archbishop of Mainz, in your castle of Trifels. I have been told that he was once one of your most trusted advisers. The citizens of Mainz have petitioned me to beg you to release him. Will you grant me that?’

  He frowned. ‘Adalbert had good reason to be grateful to me. I made him arch chancellor and then archbishop, and how did he repay me? He sought to put his relatives in positions of power. He occupied castles to which he had no right, and stirred up rebellion in Saxony. And he supported those who deny my right to exert my authority over the bishops.’

  ‘But I have heard that he repents of the wrongs he has done you. He is an old man, and much weakened by his imprisonment. My lord, would it not show you to be a merciful and magnanimous ruler if you were to release him?’

  ‘Who has been telling you all this?’

  ‘It is Archbishop Bruno, who you know has been my tutor and my counsellor since I came here. He is a good man, and a wise one.’

  ‘Bruno?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I am surprised. I thought he and Adalbert were at odds regarding the investiture controversy.’

  ‘Perhaps they were, my lord. But Bruno believes that by imprisoning him you have given other great men of the realm cause to fear that the same could happen to them. Do you not think, sire, that by keeping him in prison you may be provoking others to rebel? But by showing mercy you may reconcile them to you?’

  He looked down at her in silence for a moment and she felt a pang of fear. Had she presumed too much on her position? But he wanted her to take up her role as queen, and this was one of its proper functions. At last he smiled and reached out his hand to raise her.

  ‘Very well. Let this be my wedding gift to you. Adalbert shall be freed, as long as he is prepared to confirm his loyalty to me.’

  Some days later Adalbert was shown into her presence. It was obvious that he had been much weakened by his brutal imprisonment. His hair was white, he was pale and gaunt and leaned heavily on a stick, but he fell to his knees and kissed her hand.

  ‘My lady, I owe you a great debt. If I can ever serve you by giving council or in any other way, you may call on me and I will do whatever is in my power.’

  She raised him with a smile. It was good, she reflected, to be a queen and be able to influence the lives of powerful men.

  3

  ITALY, 1116

  The month of March was not the ideal time to cross the Brenner Pass. The snow was still deep on either side of the road and a bitter wind blew off the mountains, but Matilda revelled in the excitement of travelling through such spectacular scenery. These were the first real mountains she had even seen. And this was only the start. Soon she would see Venice and Rome, and perhaps meet the Pope. Henry was riding ahead of her, surrounded by his household knights and a gaggle of squires and pages. Behind was a train of nobles, lords spiritual and temporal, with their attendants, and behind them the mules and pack horses carrying equipment and supplies. Contingents of men-at-arms formed a vanguard and a rearguard. It was not such a great force as the one which Henry took with him on his last expedition, but it was impressive enough.

  She had her own knights riding ahead and behind, together with grooms and pages and three ladies-in-waiting. They were not enjoying the expedition. She could hear them complaining about cold feet and numbed fingers. She looked behind her. Their noses were red
, their fine complexions roughened by the wind.

  She turned in the saddle. ‘Stop moaning! When you hear me complain, I give you leave to do likewise. Until then, be quiet!’

  Their eyes widened but they bent their heads in obedience. Two years had passed since her marriage and she was no longer a child to be pampered and reassured. She had learned to assert her authority. She turned back and caught the eyes of the knight who rode closest to her. He grinned, and she grinned back.

  ‘Come on, Drogo! I’m tired of plodding along. Let’s have a gallop!’

  She pulled her chestnut palfrey out of the line of horses and kicked her forward. She was a spirited creature, her favourite, and required no extra urging. They cantered fast alongside the line, spraying up snow into the faces of the King’s knights. Someone shouted a protest, then quickly fell silent as he saw who it was. Drogo followed hard on her heels. When she drew level with Henry she checked her speed and he looked up from conversation with one of his advisers.

  ‘Is something amiss, my lady?’

  ‘Nothing, Your Grace. Exercise to warm the blood. I trust Your Grace is in good spirits?’

  He looked at her and smiled. ‘Well enough, I thank you. But have a care. Do not let your horse stray off the road. The drifts are still deep.’

  ‘I shall, my lord!’ She turned her horse’s head and cantered back to her place in the line. Henry’s companions, taking their cue from him, watched her go with indulgent smiles.

  She and Henry had learned to like each other over the passage of the two years. He had not come to her bed again. She knew he had mistresses, one of whom, at least, had given him a daughter. She imagined that they were able to please him in ways she was only just beginning to guess at. She had no objections to this state of affairs. He could have as many mistresses as he wanted if it kept him out of her bed. But there lurked always at the back of her mind the thought that at some point in the future she would be required to provide him with an heir. Meanwhile, she was learning what he required of her as his queen. At every important event she had been at his side; she attended council meetings; frequently she was asked to petition him for grants of money or land to religious houses; she had co-signed charters giving special privileges to cities or monasteries; on several occasions she had been able to reconcile erstwhile opponents to him.

  It had been a turbulent time. The kingdom was still far from settled. Rebellions in different provinces had occasioned pitched battles and Henry had suffered two severe military defeats. Worse still, the dissension in the Church had grown stronger. There were demands for reforms giving the bishops greater independence. They were led by Frederick, Archbishop of Cologne, and had culminated in a final act of defiance. Though Henry had been officially excommunicated some years ago, the sentence had never been read in Germany, until Frederick pronounced it in April of the previous year, thus formally freeing all his subjects from their allegiance. Now it was vital to come to some accommodation with the Pope. Hence the expedition on which they were now engaged.

  Henry had a pretext for another incursion into Italy. As emperor he already commanded the allegiance of the citizens of Verona and Padua. Now the Countess who ruled Emilia and Tuscany, another Matilda, had died and left him all her lands. She was an autocrat who had left rebellion simmering in her cities. He planned to establish his authority, not through force but by conciliation. Matilda knew that this was partly her doing. In the council chamber where the policy was agreed, her voice had as much influence as that of Henry’s older advisers.

  The streets of Rome were lined with cheering crowds. It was Easter 1117, and the Emperor and his wife were going to the great basilica of St Peter’s to be crowned. Matilda sat beside her husband in a barge decked out with embroidered hangings and garlanded with flowers. It was unfortunate that they were unable to ride over the bridge across the Tiber, but a garrison left behind by the Pope was in control of the Castel St Angelo, which would have made crossing by that route a very dangerous undertaking. It was a pity, also, she reflected, that the crowning would not be performed by the Pope himself. Henry had sent conciliatory messages ahead, but as he approached with his army His Holiness had found it expedient to retire southwards to Monte Cassino. Instead, the ceremony would be performed by the Archbishop of Braga, Maurice Bourdin. She tried to quell a sense of disappointment. It was not important who officiated. From now on, she would be recognized as Empress and Queen of the Romans.

  It had taken a year to get to this point, but it had been a successful year. She reminded herself of the triumphs, and of the great cities she had seen. They stayed for a short while in the palace of the Doge of Venice; then the royal party with all its hangers-on moved on to Padua and Mantua, where Henry’s policy of conciliation paid dividends and earned him loyal followers. At the castle of Canossa they had been greeted with a long poem, praising him for his wisdom and mercy and her for her beauty and gentleness. It was only when they had started to head south that things had not gone according to plan. But what did it matter that the Pope had fled? Apart from the garrison in St Angelo, the city was at their feet and she was about to become an empress.

  On the far side of the river they walked in procession to St Peter’s. Matilda gazed in awe at the towering façade but it was the interior that left her breathless. The long central nave was bordered by marble pillars and the sheer height of the gabled roof made her feel dizzy, while the glitter of gold reflecting the light of hundreds of candles dazzled her eyes.1 At the climax of the long, elaborate ceremony the crown which was placed on her head was even heavier than the one she was required to wear at her first coronation, but she had grown since then and exercise had made her stronger, and she was able to walk down the aisle beside her husband with her head erect.

  Out in the streets her eyes were dazzled afresh by sunlight and her ears were filled with the clamour of the crowds. She had heard murmurs that Henry had paid out large sums of money to guarantee this joyous reception but she had dismissed them. If it was true, so be it. It was all part of the struggle for power, and right now they were winning.

  The following weeks were filled with the kind of routine she had become used to. Together with Henry she adjudicated on disputes, heard petitions and granted charters. There was another celebration, too. Henry had arranged the marriage of his natural daughter, Bertha, to Count Ptolemy of Tusculum, thereby strengthening his influence in that area. Matilda was not shocked by the news. Henry was not alone among the kings of Europe in producing and acknowledging illegitimate offspring. Her own father was renowned for the number of his conquests. The sons and daughters of kings, even if born on ‘the wrong side of the blanket’, were still useful pawns in the power game.

  By Pentecost, the most pressing disputes had been settled, agreement with the Pope seemed no nearer, and the heat in the city was becoming oppressive. To celebrate the festival Matilda processed with Henry from St Peter’s to the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore. They wore their crowns, to remind the citizens of where their loyalty should lie. By the time they reached the basilica she could feel the sweat running down her spine and she had a headache that threatened to split her skull. As they entered the basilica the sudden shock of the cool, dark interior made her head swim, so that she had to reach out to catch hold of her husband’s arm.

  He looked at her in alarm. ‘What is it? Are you ill?’

  ‘It’s nothing … the heat. I shall be all right in a moment.’

  He took her arm and supported her as they walked towards the thrones prepared for them in front of the altar, and by the time they reached them she had recovered. Later that day, however, he came to where she was sitting in the cool cloisters of the monastery where they had taken up residence.

  ‘I am worried about you. You look pale.’

  It was the first time he had shown such concern and she was touched. ‘There is no need. It was the heat, nothing more.’

  ‘Well, you need suffer it no longer. I have had enough of this city. Tomorro
w we go north, back to Canossa.’

  Canossa was perched on the top of precipitous cliffs on the flanks of the Apennines. After the dust and heat of Rome the verdant slopes of the mountains were as welcome as gentle rain on parched ground and Matilda felt herself revive like a flower left too long without water. It was clear that Henry felt the same. In Rome he had grown increasingly morose and ill-tempered, but now he declared that he had had enough of official business and was going to attend to his own pleasure. And to Henry pleasure had only one meaning – the hunt.

  No one was surprised when she expressed her intention to join him. Years ago, soon after her marriage, she had become aware that ladies of the court frequently rode out with the hunters, so at the next opportunity she ordered her pony to be saddled and her knights to mount up, ready to ride with them. When Henry saw her, he was furious and peremptorily ordered her back to the castle. Matilda, mutinous, had watched the hunt depart and then called her knights to follow with her. The young men, disappointed at losing a day’s sport, hesitated only briefly. It was not difficult to track the sound of horns and baying hounds and soon they were on the heels of the hunters. Suddenly the barking of the dogs rose to a crescendo and the horns sounded a different call and the whole company set off at the gallop. Matilda set her heels to the pony’s sides and galloped after them. The pony was a willing beast, as excited by the noise and the other horses as she was, but it was too small to keep up and soon she was left far behind. Even her knights, carried away by their own momentum, were out of sight. Furiously, she cut at the pony’s rump with her whip and in response it dropped its head and bucked, almost unseating her. The sound of the horns faded into the distance and she found herself alone. She urged the pony forward, but after a few paces she realized that it was lame. She dismounted, looped the reins over her arm and turned to go back the way she had come – except that she no longer knew which path to take. Brambles tore at her skirt and a low branch whipped across her face and she swallowed back tears of pain and fear. The forest was huge and she was completely lost.