Eleanor of Castile: The Shadow Queen

Home > Other > Eleanor of Castile: The Shadow Queen > Page 23
Eleanor of Castile: The Shadow Queen Page 23

by Sara Cockerill


  Richard of Cornwall was to head up a committee composed of himself, the Archbishop of York, Philip Basset, Roger Mortimer and Robert Walerand. The latter was later replaced by Robert Burnell, who had, since about 1266, assumed the mantle of Edward’s chancellor and assumed such importance that he was remunerated at a higher rate than the king’s own treasurer. From a political standpoint this made perfect sense; though, as Howell notes, even politically the exclusion of Eleanor of Provence, a previous regent of the country, is a little surprising. But certainly the failure to commit the children to her care is striking. Howell rationalises the decision as one by Edward to avoid any appearance of ‘alien’ influence, in particular in the light of Gilbert of Gloucester’s strong views on the subject and the need to keep him sweet. This may be the explanation for the political omission, although if it were the case then it would seem odd that Edward’s brother Edmund made Eleanor of Provence his sole agent during his absence on Crusade.

  Whatever rationalisations can be conjured up for the political side of the decision, they cannot adequately explain the omission to involve the queen in custody of the children. It seems likely that the exclusion of Eleanor of Provence was a joint decision by Edward and Eleanor. In the political sphere it did all that Howell says, and marked Edward out clearly as having emerged from his mother’s and mother’s family’s tutelage. However, in the familial sphere it demonstrated the fault line which had begun between the two Eleanors shortly after Edward and Eleanor’s marriage, and which was solidifying as Eleanor of Provence’s day in the sun drew to a close and Eleanor of Castile was looked to as queen in waiting.3

  Thus, at the parliament held in July 1270, Henry gave his blessing to Edward’s fulfilment on his behalf of his crusading vows, and thereafter the final steps were taken to prepare for departure. The party, which comprised probably about a thousand soldiers (including knights) plus some wives and household staff, assembled in Portsmouth to sail to Gascony and then to proceed to Aigues-Mortes near Montpellier – the plan being for an August rendezvous. Whether this would in any event have been feasible must be open to serious doubt – as must the suggestion that Eleanor and Edward somehow planned to sandwich in a trip to visit Alfonso of Castile on the way. However, if the date had ever been achievable, other factors intervened. First the winds were unhelpful – the Crusaders were left twiddling their thumbs within reach of port. Edward and Eleanor seem to have based themselves at Winchester, where he tied up the last details of his administration for his absence, including the revised version of the committee to mind his affairs, and finally the charter establishing Darnhall (later Vale Royal) Abbey.

  By about 7 August, now at Portsmouth and still waiting for favourable winds, it appears that the news had arrived of the death of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Boniface of Savoy. The plans for Burnell’s travel were revoked and Edward rushed to Canterbury to try to persuade the monks to elect his chancellor as the new archbishop – without success. The monks of Canterbury were apparently less than enthusiastic about recommending a career clerk and pluralist whose dealings in Jewish debts were already beginning to be talked about.

  While Edward was at Canterbury, the rest of the party reconvened in Dover and eventually started out on 20 August. They reached Aigues-Mortes in late September, to find that the French had already gone; in fact, Louis of France had not even awaited the appointed date. Doubtless aware that the English contingent would miss the ‘sail-by’ date agreed, he and his troops had left at the end of July. What is more, he had not headed for the Holy Land but for Tunis.4

  The reason for this diversion was to assist his younger brother Charles of Anjou, who had taken the title of King of Sicily, which Eleanor of Provence had so expensively coveted for Edmund. Charles wished to strike against the Emir of Tunis, who had assisted Sicilian rebels and ceased to pay tribute to him. Charles, probably with help from Louis’ Dominican advisers, had persuaded Louis that the arrival of the Crusaders might convince the emir to convert to Christianity, thereby improving the balance of power in the vicinity of the Holy Land, and that if this plan did not come off, Tunis would provide both a good muster port and a good base for attacking into Egypt – as Louis had done on his previous Crusade in 1248. This was not a bad point – Charles would in fact later lose Sicily via an invasion from Tunis – as would the Axis powers seven centuries later, in the Second World War. Furthermore, Charles dangled the carrot of adding his own considerable, and experienced, forces to those of the other Crusaders. Faced with this change of plan, what were the English Crusaders to do? Go ahead without the leader of the Crusade, or follow him on a campaign which formed no part of their crusading intent? They ultimately decided to do the latter, and the party set forth again in October, headed for Tunis.

  They arrived on 9 November 1270 to find yet another disaster. Louis, along with many of his army, had been struck by dysentery caused by poor drinking water soon after their arrival, and by the time the English contingent reached Aigues-Mortes he was already dead, along with 400 of his force of 1,800, including his constable, Eleanor’s cousin Alphonse of Brienne. His heir, Philip III, struck by the same illness, was only just on the road to recovery. To make matters still worse, such fighting as had been necessary in Tunis had already been done by the French contingent. Indeed, a peace had been concluded involving the payment of tribute and liberty of worship and movement to Christians, and part of the French army had already left – not for Crusade but for France. This final round of bad news must have been inexpressibly disappointing to Edward, Eleanor and their party; the entire future of the Crusade, which they had planned for years to bring about, seemed in question.5

  Interestingly, among the Sicilian rebels fighting against Louis and Charles was Eleanor’s brother Fadrique, who had been exiled from Castile in 1255 at around the time of Enrique’s rebellion. He had since pursued a career of knight errantry alongside his brother. Whether Eleanor re-established contact with him is uncertain, but given that Alfonso and Fadrique reconciled after years of alienation in 1272, near the time of Eleanor’s return, it seems at least possible that she did so, and then assisted in brokering some kind of deal between her brothers. Indeed, given the timeline, he (and his sons) may even have joined the crusading party; one of his sons has been tentatively identified as a member of Eleanor’s household in later years.6

  Certainly, however, the much-delayed meeting of the crusading parties will have brought one reunion for Eleanor. With the new King Philip III of France was his wife Isabelle of Aragon, Eleanor’s childhood acquaintance. She, like Eleanor, was travelling on Crusade with her husband, despite her pregnancy. Another likely reunion was with Jeanne of Châtellherault, Eleanor’s cousin through her mother’s sister Mathilde de Dammartin. Jeanne had, with Eleanor’s probable encouragement, married Geoffrey de Lusignan, now part of the French crusading party.

  The future of the Crusade was subject to a number of differing interests. At this point, the way forward for Philip, the new French king, was simply uncertain – he had unexpectedly lost not just his father but also his younger brother Jean Tristan, who had also died within days of reaching Tunis on 3 August, as well as his brother-in-law Theobald, Count of Champagne and King of Navarre – the former candidate for Eleanor’s hand and now the husband of Philip’s sister Isabelle. Mourning and administration therefore both called him home. However, what better memorial to his pious father could there be than to continue the Crusade which he had pledged to lead?

  Edward, by contrast, saw matters in black and white – the Crusade must go on: ‘This is only the beginning, and the highway shall be made plain before us so that we may go on to the holy city of Jerusalem!’ Charles of Anjou was almost certainly not in favour of continuing the Crusade; he was already a notable Crusader, having fought with distinction at Damietta and Mansourah in the 1248 Crusade. Furthermore, his position in Sicily was still delicate and he was alive to the risk of spreading himself too thin by concentrating on Sultan Baibars, particularly with
Aragonese naval power growing in the west. It is also possible that he considered keeping Baibars sweet a better political approach than antagonising him.7

  With these various interests impossible to easily reconcile, Charles of Anjou proposed that all the Crusaders should convene in Sicily to plan the way forward. This plan resulted in a further stroke of bad luck for the Crusaders; the French fleet anchored on 14 November at Trapani on the west of the island, where they were struck on the next night by a huge storm which destroyed the fleet, killed many and resulted in the loss of much of the treasure and supplies needed to support the Crusade. This decided Philip: he announced his withdrawal from the Crusade and commenced a return with his relations’ remains to France via Italy, trusting the sea no further. But even the land journey held perils: his wife Isabelle would die weeks later in Calabria, aged just twenty-seven, in premature childbirth brought on following a fall from a horse in the course of this already funereal journey. Whether Eleanor’s cousin Jeanne and her husband Geoffrey returned with the French contingent is not recorded. Given the Lusignan links both to Edward and to the Crusader empire – a Lusignan cousin was King of Cyprus – there is a real chance that they pressed on with the fighting contingent. This suggestion appears to be supported by the familiar terms in which Jeanne was to address Edward, in 1276 asking for news of him ‘because you are the man in all the world in whom I have the most confidence’.8

  The English fleet’s contrasting fortunes pointed them in a different direction to the French. They had anchored elsewhere and been unaffected by the storm. After the catalogue of disasters to date, Edward determined that this showed that God had spared them for the work of the Crusade; the English crusading force would go on alone. Some reports suggest that Charles was persuaded to join them by Edward’s vow that ‘if all my companions and all my fellow countrymen desert me I shall go onto Acre, if only with Sowin my groom, and keep my word unto the death!’. It is more probable, however, that Charles, with his Mediterranean interests, was always prepared to continue to offer some support, even without the French – but he was never seriously minded to commit to the extent of going himself.

  In any event, the Crusade could not simply go on at once; mindful of the weather risk in the light of the Trapani disaster, the Crusaders would winter in Sicily and move on to the Holy Land in spring. Charles issued Edward with letters of protection, which safeguarded him and his force from external control. Meanwhile, Henry of Almain was sent back by Edward. A number of rationales have been suggested for this move – that it was in response to messages from home – or possibly (as Edward himself was to claim later) with a view to a rapprochement with the sons of Simon de Montfort – his former friends, and Charles’s present employees. In reality, the reason was probably with a view to dealing with Gascon problems, as Henry was now uniquely qualified to do following his recent marriage to Constance of Béarn. But whatever the motivation, this was a decision which Edward was to regret.9

  The Crusaders spent a pleasant winter in Sicily – possibly the more so without the company of the elder Charles, who accompanied the French northwards. Close association with the man who now employed the younger Montforts can hardly have been congenial to Edward. As far as Eleanor was concerned, to this was added the serious awkwardness caused by the fact that Charles had been a close associate of her brother Enrique, but was now his jailer. Enrique had supported Charles in the latter’s campaign to become King of Naples, and lent him considerable sums of money. However, while Charles arranged for him to become a senator of Rome (hence his nickname – El Senador), he did not produce any larger reward, such as the kingship of Sardinia, at which Enrique aimed; nor did he repay the sums lent to him. There had been a serious falling out in 1268: Enrique had defected on the eve of the Battle of Tagliacozzo – and had picked the wrong side, being captured by Charles shortly afterwards. The victorious Charles was to have him held prisoner until at least 1291, in Castello di Canossa in Puglia from 1268 to 1277 and in Castel del Monte from 1277 to 1291. Typically, some accounts suggest Enrique finally escaped.10

  For Eleanor, after fifteen years of English winters, the milder climate of the Mediterranean would have been a particular pleasure. They stayed in the beautiful palaces of La Ziza and La Cuba whose architecture, referencing Muslim, Roman, and Byzantine stylistic influences, and gardens, with their splendid parks featuring pavilions, tree-lined promenades and decorative Moorish watercourses, offered another echo of home. Further, despite the political bumps in the relationship, Charles would have ensured that their stay was made extremely comfortable. His eldest son, Edward’s cousin Charles of Salerno, was at this point in his late teens and may well have acted as host in his father’s absence. Certainly Edward and Eleanor at some point got to know Charles of Salerno well, and learnt to value him highly.

  The lands surrounding the Sicilian palaces were also well adapted for hunting, and many afternoons will have been spent in this always beloved occupation. As for other preoccupations, it seems that reading and discussion of romances figured too, for at some point either on the outwards or return journey an Arthurian romance in the possession of Edward caught the eye of Marco Polo’s secretary and ghostwriter, Rusticiano of Pisa, who borrowed it and used it as the basis for his French work The Romance of King Arthur. This, rather suitably, told the tale of Palamedes, a Saracen knight who joined the round table, as well as including the adventures of Banor le Brun, Tristan and Lancelot.11

  Eleanor was also expecting a child and it is possible that this further delayed the progress of the Crusade – the date of birth of the child, again only known as Anonyma, is not known. Parsons, following the one chronicler to mention the child, gives her birth location as Palestine 1271. However, this seems unlikely once the calendar is considered. Given the arrival of Joan of Acre in spring 1272, she was conceived in June or July 1271. For Anonyma to be born in Acre, Eleanor would therefore have had to be travelling right up to her due date. Much more likely, therefore, is that the anonymous baby was born in Sicily in early 1271, and Eleanor and the baby then travelled to Acre a few weeks or months later. Not an ideal programme, but infinitely better than risking childbirth in the bowels of a military transport. As it is, it seems likely that the vicissitudes of such an early start on campaigning life may have contributed to the death of Anonyma shortly after the arrival of the Crusaders in Acre.12

  Whatever the exact reason for the delay, the result was that the English Crusaders did not arrive in Acre until 9 May 1271, having stopped en route in Cyprus, where they had been entertained by the King of Cyprus, Hugh III – a member of the Lusignan family. It may well have been here that Edward and Eleanor received the appalling news of Henry of Almain’s murder at the hands of the Montforts.

  Since the end of the civil war, Simon and Guy de Montfort had done well in Charles of Anjou’s service. Guy in particular had excelled, becoming governor of Tuscany and marrying into a rich and influential Italian family. In March 1271, they headed to Viterbo in northern Italy to rendezvous with the French royal party and Charles of Anjou. Quite how the murder came about is unclear – the circumstances suggest a lack of premeditation, but, on 13 March 1271, Guy and Simon found Henry of Almain hearing Mass in either the church of St Silvester or that of St Blaise. Guy attacked him, refusing Henry mercy when he pleaded for it: ‘You had no mercy on my father and brothers.’ One account, which has Guy cutting off Henry’s fingers, which were clutching the altar for protection, and dragging his body from the church to better brutalise it, is particularly revolting. Whatever the precise details, the accounts agree that on leaving Henry dead, he claimed, ‘I have taken my vengeance.’

  If it was vengeance, it was an indirect one, since Henry was not even at Evesham. He and his father were in captivity at the time. Thus, if vengeance it was, it was directed straight at Edward – killing the cousin he loved as a brother. Whether, as some accounts claim, Henry’s body was in fact later dragged outside and mutilated as Simon de Montfort’s had been, i
s unclear. So too is the precise involvement of the hapless Simon the younger. What is clear is that the murder became an international scandal and cause célèbre – it was a devastating blow to Edward, whose companion Henry had been in the schoolroom, in captivity and in battle; and the attempt to bring Guy to justice was to be a feature of his foreign relations for years. Even Dante, a child at the time of the murder, shows how famed was the misdeed by the fact that he later immortalised Guy de Montfort as one of the murderers in the seventh circle of hell – submerged to his neck in a river of boiling blood – a fate which Edward would certainly have wholeheartedly endorsed.13

  At this point it is necessary to try to summarise the position in the Holy Land, in late spring 1271, when the Crusade finally arrived. Following the fall of Jerusalem in 1244, a Crusade (the Seventh Crusade) had eventually been organised under the aegis of King Louis of France. The Crusade, which commenced in 1248 and lasted until 1254, was a costly failure. Good progress was made early on; Damietta in Egypt was taken in a single day as a promising base for an attack on Jerusalem, and the pregnant Queen Margaret was installed there. However, all went badly wrong thereafter. Both Louis and his brother Robert of Artois failed in an attempt to take Mansourah. The cost of the battle was heavy and included Robert’s life, squandered in a foolhardy dash ahead of the main body of the army. Louis then tried to besiege Mansourah but ran out of provisions over the winter, with a resulting heavy loss of life for his Crusaders, who succumbed in their hordes to scurvy, dysentery and other diseases.

 

‹ Prev