And then the way would be open for John.
So he must return to England; he must kneel at the feet of his handsome brother; he must swear to serve him with his life while he waited patiently for his death.
He reached Dover and went straight to Winchester.
There his mother received him warmly. She was fond of him, although of course none of her children could be to her what Richard was. He was delighted when, after he had been formally received by his brother, she took them both to her private chamber and he was allowed to talk with them.
Richard said that there must be no more conflict in the family. It had been his father’s downfall and had brought no good to any of them. Let them have done with it and work together.
‘Aye, aye,’ said John fervently.
His mother eyed him with approval.
‘I know that you were once with our father against me,’ said Richard. ‘I know that he offered bribes to you ... even this kingdom. That must be forgotten.’
‘It is forgotten,’ John assured him seriously.
Richard grasped his hand and John forced tears into his eyes.
‘It is well that you understand each other,’ said their mother.
‘Our father, I know, granted you the County of Mortain, but did not live long enough to give you possession of it. That shall now be yours.’
‘You are generous to me, Richard.’
‘And intend to be more so. You have been granted certain lands in England and there is a revenue I believe of some four thousand Angevin pounds which comes from them.’
John’s eyes glistened. He would indeed be rich. If the Gloucester lands were his he believed he would be the richest man in England – next to the King.
He said: ‘There is one other matter. It concerns my marriage. I am no longer a boy. I need a wife.’ He did not add: And I need her fortune. But neither his mother nor his brother would be ignorant of the size of that.
‘Our father betrothed you to Hadwisa of Gloucester,’ said Richard; ‘I often wondered whether it was wise. There is a close relationship between our families.’
Wise! thought John. The richest heiress in the country! Of course it was wise!
‘I would marry her tomorrow ... if you gave your consent,’ said John; and he thought: Aye, and without it, for I would risk much for Hadwisa’s wealth.
Eleanor said: ‘The Gloucester lands and wealth should be brought into the family. Let John marry Hadwisa and then it will be too late for the Church to do much about it.’
Richard was thoughtful but John’s eyes were glistening with avaricious delight.
Rich lands in Normandy and wealth from England and now marriage with its rich heiress.
* * *
From a turret of Marlborough Castle Hadwisa of Gloucester watched anxiously for the cavalcade at the head of which her bridegroom would be riding.
Her father had told her that she must be prepared. There would be no delay. As soon as the party arrived the marriage must take place.
It was not a very romantic wedding, she had complained to her attendants. She wondered what John was like.
‘Suffice it,’ said her old nurse, ‘that he is a king’s son. And he is young too. It could have been that an old man was chosen for you. At least you have one who is young and by all accounts not ill-favoured.’
‘Tell me what you know of him,’ Hadwisa had begged.
Tell her what she knew? Tell of the stories of the wildness of Prince John? Better not. It might be that they had not been true ... not entirely that was. By all accounts the bridegroom was young in years and old in sin; and Hadwisa was not experienced of the world. The child would never understand. Therefore she must discover gradually and for herself.
‘It is not an easy position,’ said Hadwisa, ‘to be half royal as it were. Kings should think of that when they have sons outside their marriage.’
‘’Tis my belief it is the last thing they think of in the heat of their passion.’
‘But my grandfather was a great good man.’
‘Ah,’ said the old nurse. ‘I remember him. A fine gentleman, an honourable man. His father respected him, and his father was King Henry I.’
‘I know my grandfather Robert was one of his natural sons.’
‘And the King loved him dearly. He was the great champion of the King’s daughter Matilda in her fight against Stephen.’
‘She was a difficult woman but he believed her cause was the right one and I know that he was partly responsible for helping Henry II to the throne.’
‘You know your family history, my child. That is good. It helps you to bear your lot.’
‘Why should it, nurse?’
‘To talk to those who are long ago dead and to remember that troubles beset them makes you feel your own are not so important.’
‘You think I have troubles?’
‘You, my love! About to be married to a handsome prince!’
‘I trust he will like me.’
‘He’ll not be able to help himself,’ the nurse assured her.
If only it were true, thought Hadwisa. She knew she was not beautiful. Her sisters – all married now – had been far more attractive than she was. She was not a fool. She knew that her father was one of the richest men in the kingdom and it was for this reason that she had been affianced to the King’s brother.
Now she could see the riders in the distance. There was the royal standard and at the head of the band would be her bridegroom.
Her mother was at the door.
‘Hadwisa, are you ready? You must be at the gates to greet the Prince.’ She noticed her daughter’s anxious looks and thought: It’s a pity the poor child is so plain. Nervously Hadwisa went out to greet her bridegroom.
He was of medium height and like all the sons of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine he had some claim to good looks. But although he was young yet and his character had not yet drawn lines on his face there was that about it to strike a note of warning in the heart of his bride.
Cruelty peeped out of those eyes; the mouth was hard yet weak; to some extent he disguised his true nature but it could not be altogether concealed. Lust, envy, greed – yes, every one of the notorious seven sins could be detected there.
He took her hand and kissed it. His eyes gloated but not on her. The richest lands in England! When they were his he would have possession of a goodly part of that country.
‘Come,’ he cried. ‘Let us get the marriage done with. My bride and I will need a little time together before I go to my brother’s coronation.’
‘My lord,’ said her father, ‘a banquet is prepared. We had thought tomorrow might be the best day for the marriage ceremony.’
‘Nay,’ cried John. ‘We’ll have it tonight.’ He took Hadwisa’s hand and pressed it firmly. ‘I declare that having seen my bride ... in her home ... I cannot wait.’
So they prepared her and her mother came to her and she asked that they might be alone together.
‘Come,’ said her mother, when the attendants had gone, ‘all is well. Every bride is nervous on her wedding day.’
‘This is so quick.’
‘My child you have been betrothed to the Prince for years.’
‘But I never thought ...’
‘You are of a marriageable age now and so is he.’
‘Mother, it is not meet that we should marry. We are third cousins.’
‘It is because you have royal blood in your veins that you are a worthy bride for the King’s brother.’
‘But we are third cousins.’
‘It is a slender link.’
‘King Henry I was my great-grandfather. He was also John’s.’
‘Do not fret over such things.’
‘I believe the Church might not sanction our marriage. There should be a special dispensation.’
‘My dear child, do you realise that the King has given his consent to the marriage?’
‘The King is not the Church.’
&nbs
p; ‘What would you have us do?’
‘Wait,’ cried Hadwisa. ‘Wait!’
‘Can you imagine the wrath of your bridegroom if we suggested such a thing! What do you think he would do?’
Ah, there was the crux of the matter! What would he do? Would he burn down the castle? Would he cut off her father’s head? Would he hang him on the nearest tree?
She was silent, thinking of what she had seen in her bridegroom’s eyes.
* * *
The ceremony was over; they had feasted, the minstrels had sung, and Hadwisa and her bridegroom were conducted to the bridal chamber.
She was afraid of him.
Her fear amused him. A virgin! He had had his fill of such and they were interesting only for such a short while. When he had pillaged towns with his followers they had taken the best of the women; that had been good sport. The fear of others always excited him. It soothed him in some way. It made him feel important. He had the power at that moment to rule them absolutely. It made up for the fact that he was the youngest son.
Hadwisa was afraid of him and that pleased him. Not much else about her person did. But he had to remember the riches she brought him.
The richest heiress in the kingdom! That was worth a good deal.
‘Why,’ he said, ‘you are reluctant. Do I not please you?’
‘Why, yes, my lord ... but ...’
‘But! What buts are these?’
‘There is a strong blood relationship between us ...’
‘Ah, indeed our great-grandfather scattered his seed far and wide. I’ll swear that there is many a young girl in this kingdom who could be my cousin. So it is with princes. None daresay them nay.’
‘I had thought we should have waited for a dispensation from the Church.’
‘’Tis too late ... the ceremony has taken place. I am your husband now.’
‘But I meant to wait for ...’
‘For?’ He raised his eyebrows, taunting her. ‘For what, my reluctant wife?’
‘You know to what I refer.’
He caught her by the wrist and his grip was painful.
‘You tell me,’ he said. ‘Come, let us hear it from those innocent lips.’
She lowered her eyes. ‘The consummation ...’
He laughed aloud. Then he seized her and she knew that her fear had not been groundless.
* * *
For five days he stayed at the castle. He terrified her but she knew her ordeal would not last long. He was becoming weary of it already.
‘It may well be,’ he said, ‘that I have already planted our son within you. Pray that it may be so for I know not when we may meet again. I shall go now to my brother’s coronation and there may well be much to occupy me.’
As he was about to leave the castle a messenger arrived from Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury. He brought with him a letter for the Earl of Gloucester. When he read it the Earl grew pale.
‘The Archbishop forbids the marriage on the grounds of consanguinity,’ he said.
John burst into loud laughter. ‘He is a little late, is he not?’
‘My lord Prince, what can we do?’
‘Burn the letter. Forget it. What’s done is done. Your daughter is my wife. Who knows she may already be carrying a boy who could be heir to the throne. I’ll not have the Church interfering in my affairs. Baldwin forbade the marriage when my father lived. My father cared nothing for Baldwin, nor should we.’
The Earl said: ‘You are right, my lord. There is nothing we can do now.’
He rode away. Hadwisa had never known relief such as she felt when she saw his party disappear into the distance.
* * *
John arrived in London to find his mother and brother installed in Westminster Palace. There was great excitement in London at the prospect of the coronation; and there seemed little doubt that the new King was popular. By abolishing many of the harsh forest laws Eleanor had paved the way for the King; and with a new reign the people were ever ready to believe that it would be better than the last. Henry II had been a man who had brought much good to the country; many had heard of the state of affairs during the reign of weak Stephen when robbers had roamed the land abducting unwary travellers, holding them to ransom, robbing them and if they had little worldly goods torturing them for sport. Henry with his stern just laws had put a stop to that. But he had retained the cruel forest laws and that was what the people remembered rather than the good he had done.
Now here was a new King – a man who was by no means old and who looked like a god. His reputation as a warrior was well known; he was good to his mother who had acted as Regent until he came. He had a younger brother who was willing to serve him. It seemed to the people that everything was set fair. And now a coronation. Revelry in the streets, processions; and it was already whispered that this was going to be the finest spectacle that had ever delighted the eyes of the citizens of London. Naturally they were excited. Naturally they were all going out to cheer.
Richard greeted his brother warmly.
‘How went it?’ he asked. ‘Don’t tell me, I know. You are a husband. Baldwin is fulminating. He says it is a sin for you to live with Hadwisa of Gloucester.’
‘That adds a spice to what would otherwise be a somewhat dull matter,’ replied John.
‘Oh, ’twas so? Well, you have her lands and that is something to be pleased about. But what of Baldwin?’
‘I shall ignore him. Shall you, brother?’
‘It is not good for a king to be on ill terms with his archbishop.’
‘’Tis a by no means uncommon state of affairs. He is officiating at the coronation, I doubt not.’
‘He is,’ said Richard.
‘Will he denounce me from the altar think you?’
‘’Twould be most unseemly were he to do so at a coronation and would cost him his post.’
‘Then perchance he will leave me in peace for a while.’
‘Methinks you were pleased with your bride, John.’
‘Pleased with her lands,’ answered John.
‘Well, you will be a very rich man now.’
‘It is a comfort to contemplate how rich.’
Eleanor embraced her youngest son and asked how the wedding had pleased him.
She commiserated. ‘Alas, it is sometimes the richest heiresses who are the least desirable. It’s a rare thing to find a woman who is both.’
‘You were I believe, Mother.’
She laughed. ‘I have been loved for myself and for Aquitaine. I have never been quite sure which was the more attractive. Well now, John is safely married ...’
‘I am not so sure,’ said Richard. ‘Baldwin is raising objections.’
‘The old fool!’ retorted Eleanor. ‘In any case it’s too late. Why do you smile, John?’
‘I was thinking that the old fellow could give me a chance of not seeing my wife if I didn’t want to.’ He put his hand on his heart and raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Oh, I suffer sorely. My soul is in torment. I wish to be with my wife but in doing so do I sin against Heaven. She is my third cousin and that is very close. Her great-grandmother was my great-grandfather’s whore and we share his blood ... though mine is pure and hers is tainted. If’twere not for her nice fat lands I would willingly annul the marriage ...’
‘Be silent, John,’ said Eleanor sharply. She could see that Richard did not like his brother’s raillery on such a subject.
‘I am concerned,’ said Richard, ‘as to the Jews. I do not want them practising their magical arts at the coronation. That could bring disaster to us all. I shall forbid them to attend the ceremony.’
‘It would never do for them to be seen there,’ commented the Queen. ‘The people would think you are going to show leniency towards them and that would not be popular.’
‘They are too rich,’ said John. ‘That is what’s wrong with them.’
‘They are industrious and know how to prosper,’ declared the Queen. ‘Such qualities arouse envy, an
d being envious of their wealth those who have been less industrious or lack the money-spinning gift seek to lay faults at their door. My son, you must issue a command that there be no Jews at your coronation.’
‘It shall be done,’ said Richard.
* * *
The morning of that third day of September of the year 1189 dawned bright and sunny. Yet there were many who remembered that it was a day of ill omen. Egyptian astrologers had named it as one of the Dies Aegyptiaci with the implication that on it only the reckless would undertake any important business; and what could be more important to a king than his coronation?
Scarlet cloth had been laid from the King’s bedchamber in the palace to the altar of the abbey and crowds had gathered in the streets for the last day and night to make sure of getting a view of the spectacle.
In his bedchamber surrounded by the chief nobles of the realm, including his brother John, the King waited the coming of the Archbishops, the Bishops, the Abbots and heads of the monastic orders. They came bearing censers and vessels containing holy water led by one of their number carrying the great cross.
First in the processions from the bedchamber to the altar came the clergy, chanting as they walked, swinging incense and holding high lighted tapers; the priors and abbots followed and after them the barons. William Mareschal carried the sceptre surmounted by the golden cross and William Earl of Salisbury the golden rod.
Immediately behind them was Prince John, his eyes lowered, imagining himself not walking as he did but in the place of honour today occupied by his brother. How unfair was life, he thought, to make a man the youngest of his family! Yet in some ways fate had been kind in carrying off the others. That left Richard ten years his senior but still young. In the prime of his manhood some said. By God’s Eyes, thought John, he could live another twenty years! But if he went to the Holy Land a Saracen arrow might pierce his heart. It was the only hope.
He must be encouraged to go on his crusade. He was not fit to be King. How could a man newly come to a throne, plot how soon he could leave it? Only if he were a fool, for if that man had an ambitious brother he could soon place his kingdom in jeopardy!
The Heart of the Lion Page 3