By December, three out of the seven electors were bought. Two were established as hostile. All, therefore, turned on the decision of Ottokar of Bohemia, who could give Richard a majority. However, he refused to commit himself. Richard’s team did not allow this to stand in their way. In London, on 26 December, the crown was solemnly offered to Richard by the Archbishop of Cologne, who pretended that the electors were unanimous. Richard accepted, and on 13 January 1257 he was elected ‘King of the Romans’ (the title of the Emperor designate) by his supporters. On 31 January, all remaining difficulties appeared to be clearing when it was announced that Ottokar of Bohemia had decided to support Richard’s candidacy. Thereafter, Henry and Richard began to make plans for Richard’s journey to Germany for his coronation, accompanied his family and by an impressive retinue of knights. At the Easter parliament, a variety of German magnates came to do homage to Richard. He left the country on 29 April, accompanied by these lords and a retinue of thirty-two English magnates on fifty ships.13
However, even as Richard was sailing, a significant storm cloud had formed. Ottokar of Bohemia had changed his mind in late March, and he had nominated an alternative candidate. By the time of Richard’s arrival, this alternative candidate had the majority which Richard lacked. The candidate had other advantages, too. He could lay claim to direct descent from the Imperial line, and possessed a credible claim to extensive lands in Swabia. He had impressive outside support: that of the French king, the Duke of Brabant and the towns of Worms and Spier. That candidate? Alfonso X.
The net result was that, though Richard was crowned King of the Romans by his supporters in May 1257 and received the homage of large areas of Germany, and although Alfonso did not appear to take the field against him, Richard never did cement his position in Germany and his carefully conserved money was, to a great extent, wasted. The other result was that, by late 1257, having wasted large sums in political manoeuvrings against Richard, Alfonso was firing off a strong formal complaint to Henry that Richard’s election was a wrong to him and a breach of the Treaty of Toledo, and he therefore called upon Henry to support him against Richard. Henry’s reply of 14 December 1257 takes a pacific line, pointing out that he had known nothing of Alfonso’s candidature until well after Richard’s election, promising to send messengers to Germany to find out more and ending with a promise that when he does know more, he will proceed to do what is right by all parties.14
It can be imagined that this development hardly improved the already vexed Anglo-Castilian relations, particularly against the background of Enrique’s continued presence in England and Henry III’s continued foot-dragging over the Gascon issues: Henry had still not agreed to a commission to resolve outstanding suits, and in late 1257 he was pulling out of a planned meeting, citing Welsh and Scottish issues. All of these issues were still in play in 1258 when domestic issues flared up with the barons’ revolt. In addition, this highly unfortunate coincidence led to open derision of Eleanor’s marriage treaty by no less a person than Richard of Cornwall, who was regarded as a leader by much of the baronage: in 1256, he was openly blaming certain of Henry’s advisers for the treaty – a sure sign that he was speaking ill of it to a wider audience.15
All in all, therefore, Eleanor’s first years in England must have been frequently uncomfortable with the Anglo-Castilian alliance unravelling almost before she had arrived, and at breaking point thereafter. One can also be tolerably sure that the reactions of many at court would reflect this; a princess who encapsulates a popular, prosperous alliance will be respected and courted, whereas a princess whose alliance has fallen out of favour and whose relations are causing trouble for the powers that be would frequently be on the receiving end of slights and discourtesies. One cannot help but wonder if the fact that after the pomp of her arrival Eleanor makes only one appearance on the record in the period to late 1258 is a reflection of this; and indeed whether that appearance – a pilgrimage with Eleanor of Provence to St Albans in October 1257, following a serious illness of the queen – reflects a perceived need to bolster her position by open association with the queen.
What else was Eleanor doing in this period? We cannot be sure. But Edward’s story gives us some clues. Edward returned to England on about 29 November 1255, and was welcomed back in a similarly lavish way to that in which Eleanor had been greeted. However, cracks in his relationship with his father appear to have opened up almost immediately. In part this may be put down to the fact that, as Morris points out, the physical appearance of the person who returned from Gascony was probably very different to that of the boy who had gone. Edward had last seen his father in October 1254, when he was aged just fourteen. He was now approaching sixteen and had apparently reached, or very nearly reached, the height which was to mark him out all his life. He had also spent part of the last year in active campaigning and all of it shouldering the burdens of government. Doubtless his confidence had been increased by his successful tenure in Gascony. He had become a very imposing presence; he now looked like a threat.
His increased confidence translated into a willingness to stand up for his rights in relation to his territories against his father. Matthew Paris provides a very lively account of a row not long after Edward’s return. Edward, embracing his duties as Lord of Gascony, took up with his father complaints which had been raised with him by Gascon wine merchants about forced seizure of goods by the king’s agents. These Gascons had told Edward that they would rather trade with Saracens than with England because of the way in which they were treated. Henry (typically) felt the complaint to be an infringement of his sovereignty and produced an unreasoned tirade comparing himself to Henry II, rebelled against by his dearest son. The particular row was defused, but the seeds of division between father and son had been sown, and Henry was not a man to ignore a grudge. The atmosphere was not improved by Edward’s subsequent decision to increase the size of his retinue considerably. The message of his return was clear – here was a new power at court.
Edward’s next appearance is also in opposition to his father’s wishes – and his inclinations. Paris recounts how, at about Whitsuntide 1256, a tournament was held for Edward at Blythe in Nottinghamshire. It was obviously quite an event, with many nobles who attended ‘to gain renown’ being crushed and unseated, and with William Longespée suffering injuries from which he never recovered. The obvious point which emerges is that Edward had acquired a taste for knightly pastimes in the real fighting in Gascony and wished to keep his hand in. Since neither actual warfare or tournaments were at all to Henry III’s taste, this can only have been another source of friction. However, the more serious point lies in the many nobles who, despite Henry’s well-known views, participated in order to gain renown; there is a real flavour of men trying to ‘get in’ with Edward in his new role as a force in his own right.16
Was Eleanor with Edward? It would be surprising if she were not present for such an event in Edward’s life. Further consideration of what he was doing at the time and where he went indicates strongly that she was indeed with him. Eleanor had dower lands assigned to her on her marriage in the neighbourhood; the journey would put Eleanor in the way of looking at her dower property at Tickhill in Yorkshire and the towns of Stamford and Grantham, which even then formed part of the main road to the North.
Thereafter, there was a short visit to Scotland which suggests (as Morris has noted) a social call by Edward and Eleanor together on Edward’s sister Margaret and her husband Alexander of Scotland. The two couples were of a similar age: Margaret was just over a year older than Eleanor and her husband some nine months younger than her. Alexander was also a connection of Eleanor’s through his mother, Marie de Coucy, who had married Eleanor’s cousin Jean de Brienne and whose brother had married Eleanor’s aunt Philippa. The scope for common ground between the two couples was therefore considerable. The young couples apparently paid a visit to Whithorn in Galloway on the coast of Scotland, the site of the first Christian community north of the bord
er.17
Shortly after this, Edward is heard of on a short visit to Wales, which would fit with a tour by the couple of their English properties: Edward had been invested with Chester and various Welsh properties as part of his appanage on the marriage. This again forms a very interesting contrast with Henry III, whose visits north of the medieval equivalent of the Watford Gap were few and far between. It is also another example of the way in which Edward and Eleanor were establishing a pattern which was to be theirs for life; one of the characteristics of Edward’s reign became his constant travelling around his realm, accompanied by Eleanor, seeing to their respective businesses. The trip will have been pleasant. There was no sign of trouble; indeed, Edward’s lieutenant in Wales, the Savoyard appointee Geoffrey de Langley, boasted that he held the Welsh in the palm of his hand.18
Following another stop in Chester, another rendezvous with Margaret and Alexander, now themselves en route for a visit to the English court, seems likely. The party of young royals will have travelled down to Woodstock together to meet with the main court party – who had commandeered every house nearby and still run out of room. Thereafter, the party progressed to Oxford and from there by different routes to London, where another of Henry’s special shows was put on: the city was ‘decorated with banners, chaplets and manifold ornaments’.
However the progress was managed, Edward, and in all probability Eleanor, had reached London in advance of the main party and came out to welcome them on the road on 28 August. Eleanor was therefore at court to welcome Enrique on his arrival, which Matthew Paris places as happening during the Scottish royal visit.
The Welsh rebellion which, in defiance of Langley’s prediction, blew up just after this in late 1256, therefore took Edward away from Eleanor just at a particularly difficult point. It also marks a very significant point in Edward’s political history – it is the point when he first openly breaks ranks with the Savoyards with whom his mother had surrounded him and forms his own political affiliations. It was also what is termed ‘a valuable learning experience’ – in other words, an absolute disaster. The starting point is that the rebellion was brought about only in part by the emergence in Wales of a viable political leader, Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, grandson of Llywelyn the Great, after a period of Welsh infighting. In part it was the product of insensitive handling of the locals by Langley – and in particular the taking of steps designed to bring the area known as the Four Cantreds within the same administration as the English lordship of Chester.
Through winter Edward (who, it will be recalled, had spent every penny he had and more in Gascony) was casting about desperately to find money to pay for forces to defend his lands. One might have thought that Henry’s first instinct would be to provide lavishly for the support of his eldest son in defending lands which were held from him. However, the position was quite the reverse. Taunting Edward that they were his lands, and therefore his problem, he claimed to have problems of his own and offered a measly 500 marks. Edward next turned to Richard of Cornwall, who, owing to his own need for money in his imperial campaign, could only offer 4,000 marks and his services as a mediator (which were rebuffed by Llywelyn). Perhaps the final straw for Edward was that Eleanor of Provence was neither able nor willing to help at this time; her response was that she had no money. This was quite true, as she had just spent an absolute fortune in ransoming her brother and securing papal support for the Sicilian plan. All Edward got from his mother was an exchange – she and Peter of Savoy purchased the wardship of the Ferrers family from him for 6,000 marks and Boniface of Savoy lent him £1,000 on mortgage. Whether the Savoyard faction was genuinely out of cash, or whether this was a tactic designed to bring Edward back to heel after disturbing signs of independence, the effect was not at all one which they would have desired.19
Cut loose by his family, he turned to the enemies of the Savoyards and his natural allies in interest in the Marches – both of whom were more interested in war than politics and were therefore good allies for a campaign in Wales. The change of emphasis can be seen in a variety of ways. In mid-1257, Edward replaced the Savoyard constable of Montgomery with the Marcher Hamo Lestrange, and he was now fighting alongside not just Marchers like Roger Clifford but also Lusignan allies such as Eleanor’s distant cousin John de Warenne (who had married a Lusignan) and Roger Leyburn (formerly of William of Valence’s household). Interestingly, the only truly negative stories about Edward’s behaviour date from this era and appear more to reflect the Lusignan ‘robber baron’ approach to provisioning for a campaign than any particular misbehaviour on his part. Paris tells of the carrying off of horses, carts and provisions, the seizing from a priory (while Edward was elsewhere) of food, fuel and fodder, and ‘freebooting’ in the form of seizing more horses and carts.20
Finally, and most clearly, by 1258 at the latest (and possibly by 1257, when his need for money was at its most acute) Edward had mortgaged Stamford and Grantham to William de Valence (both a Lusignan and a Marcher in his lordship of Pembroke) and the manor of Tickhill to Aymer de Valence. He had also incurred a large debt to their brother Geoffrey.21
Eleanor’s link to this move in loyalties cannot be positively proved, but a variety of factors suggest that she was heavily involved. In the first place (and rather strikingly), it will be noticed that the properties mortgaged were precisely those which formed Eleanor’s dower assignment; it is therefore overwhelmingly likely that she was at least consulted and consented to the mortgages. The pledging only of her dower does suggest an active role on her part in this realignment.
Once that step is taken, there are other points that suggest her involvement. The first is a general one – as we have seen, her upbringing had included a knowledge of the requirements of defence of disputed territories and the making of strategic alliances. This sort of thinking is demonstrated by the fact that the allies chosen were the Lusignans and the Marchers. The latter were the natural tactical allies of a non-Welsh lord in Wales and also experienced fighters in difficult territory. The Lusignans were not only valuable, experienced fighters of a less than scrupulous sort (and hence the right kinds of allies for war against the Welsh); they were also, perhaps crucially, strategic allies in another area. Edward and Eleanor would both have been well aware after their year in Gascony that in that region a Lusignan alliance was very valuable; indeed, Lusignan presence during their tenure is evidenced. Strategically, bringing them over to Edward’s side in other areas might well pay dividends in Gascony.
Finally, the Lusignans were not simply Henry and Edward’s relatives; they were also connections by marriage of Eleanor. Eleanor’s family was twice linked by marriage to the Eu branch of the Lusignans, and Geoffrey de Lusignan would also shortly marry one of Eleanor’s first cousins.22
However, Eleanor was almost certainly left behind when Edward went to attempt to deal with matters in Wales in mid-1257, with a complete absence of success. The counteroffensive funded by Edward in late May was a rout. When Henry finally assembled a royal army in August, the knee-jerk nature of the reaction showed. Although the army met with initial success in taking control of the easily accessible Four Cantreds, they quickly ran out of supplies. The campaign was over, with no real results, by October.
The best that can be said of the campaign is that it provided an opportunity for Edward to learn on the ground the difficulties of a Welsh campaign and that history reveals that, unlike his father, he did learn this lesson. In particular, the issues which had historically proved difficult for an English king to comprehend were the opportunities which the landscape provided for harrying raids by the Welsh and the phenomenal difficulties of victualling in a hard land when the inhabitants disappeared into the hills with all their cattle and provisions. Henry II struggled with this lesson, Henry III never began to grasp it, but Edward never again made the mistake of carrying a campaign into Wales without adequately planning for the conditions.
Given that his initial reported reaction, in the disappointment of the mom
ent, was that Wales should be left to the Welsh, it is interesting to speculate how Edward ultimately came to turn his lesson to such good account. Certainly one can dismiss the idea that his father may take the credit. Possibly Simon de Montfort, with whom Edward soon afterwards came into close contact, is the person who induced Edward to evaluate what he could take from this major disappointment. But perhaps most likely is that Eleanor, bred at a court where campaigning was part of everyday life and whose father was well known for thinking through each campaign before it began, was able to plant the seed that no experience is ever truly wasted if it is learnt from.23
Regardless, one result was that, throughout the period when Anglo-Castilian relations reached their nadir and Richard of Cornwall was at odds with Alfonso, Eleanor was alone at an increasingly hostile court. It must have brought home to her the fickleness of court popularity and the importance of establishing a core group of people whose loyalty could be relied upon.
Interestingly, it is at this point that the records first disclose the foremost of those whom Edward and Eleanor recruited over the years from outside their immediate families to form part of their cadre – Robert Burnell. Burnell, who went on to be not just Edward’s closest professional adviser but a close friend to Eleanor, was a priest and commenced royal service in the king’s offices. He first appears in one of Edward’s witness lists in April 1257. It has been plausibly suggested that he may have been recruited as a useful contact at about the time of the 1256 visit to Wales, since his home estate of Acton Burnell was in Shropshire, near the Welsh border.
Eleanor of Castile: The Shadow Queen Page 15