After the Chichester visit, there was a stop in Lewes, which will have offered opportunities to look back to the stressful times of the war, before moving along the coast through Kent to Canterbury and then on to visit Eleanor’s new dower properties in Essex, Rayleigh and Eastwood, before the return to London.
During the late summer which followed, Eleanor remained busy: in August the king and queen were back on the road in the vicinity of Eleanor’s properties and dower lands in Hampshire and the New Forest, as well as Somerset (including Bristol) and Gloucestershire, before returning again to London for Parliament in October. At this point, the key issue was the continued refusal by Llywelyn to attend to render homage – at least not unless he was granted a safe conduct guaranteed by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the release of Eleanor de Montfort. In the face of what now appeared a contumelious refusal, it was inevitable that there followed in November a positive decision to call the feudal host and go to war the next year. The main Marcher lords were immediately ordered to take charge of affairs at the key points, Warwick being placed at Chester, Mortimer at Montgomery and de Chaworth at Carmarthen. The muster was set for July 1277, at Worcester. From then on, the focus of the court was around preparations for the war, with moves being limited around Windsor and the Gloucestershire–Worcestershire area until the end of February 1277.16
Around this time, further disquieting news reached Eleanor from Castile. Alfonso’s position had been going from bad to worse over the succession issue. Philip III of France understandably wanted to see his nephews, Ferdinand de la Cerda’s sons, acknowledged as heirs of Alfonso. This would have been the position had Ferdinand been king, and was the result under Alfonso’s own revised legal codes. However, traditional Spanish law indicated that the correct heir was Ferdinand’s younger brother Sancho, who was also of military age and had a proven track record. Alfonso’s court, always prone to splits along party lines and already magnetised on the issue of reformed code versus traditional law, had polarised violently on this issue. One side, led by Blanche of France, Ferdinand’s widow, and Queen Violante, upheld the cause of the child Alfonso de la Cerda. The other party, headed by Fadrique, who had been installed as his brother’s adviser following their reconciliation in 1272, endorsed Sancho’s claim. Alfonso was caught in the middle. Acting on Fadrique’s advice, in 1276 Alfonso endorsed Sancho’s claim. The result was a rapid deterioration in relations with France; Alfonso consequently fell out badly with Fadrique, and in 1277 (possibly in a fit of irrationality caused by his growing physical illness) actually had him assassinated. Both Alfonso’s action and the acutely weak position which prompted it will have been a considerable grief and embarrassment to Eleanor.17
According to the chroniclers, the spring of 1277 was an utterly miserable one, with storms and floods in January giving way to wall-to-wall rain in March; all in all it was an unpleasant time to be on the move, still less to be trying to organise men and materiel. Over this period, the usual complement of the royal court on the move was boosted by what was effectively a recall of the crusading team of 1270. Among these were Roger Clifford, Otho de Grandison, John de Vescy, Payn de Chaworth and Robert Tybetot, as well as Edmund of Lancaster, himself a co-Crusader and Marcher lord by virtue of his holdings at Carmarthen and Cardigan. Other experienced names were the redoubtable Roger Mortimer, William Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, and the young Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln.18
So in February 1277, with the early stages of the campaign in the capable hands of seasoned battle commanders, the royal party left for a dual-purpose tour of East Anglia. On the one hand, Edward seems to have visited every shrine of note in the area and made offerings. The prominent venues of Walsingham and Bromholm, which Edward and Eleanor will have visited in Henry III’s train, obviously feature; but so too do the lesser-known Augustinian priory in Cambridge and the Dominican house of Horsham, as well as the abbey of Hulme and the chapel of Worstead. On the other hand, many of the stops were convenient places for Eleanor to conduct a survey of her properties and potential acquisitions. Bromholm, for example, did not just boast a fragment of the True Cross – it was also excellently situated for her key Aylsham–Cawston group of properties. Indeed, additions at Burgh and Cawston were made very shortly afterwards. The Cambridgeshire stops in turn were close to her holdings at Soham and Dullingham, and there was actually a night’s stay at the manor of Foulmire, which was later to be granted to her in wardship.19
Meanwhile, further preparations were still afoot. In particular, learning from the mistakes both of Henry II and Henry III, Edward placed massive orders to ensure that the supply chain for the army was well provisioned prior to the parliament in April. Even by this stage the campaign could be seen to be going well, with Llywelyn pushed back into Gwynedd and his support crumbling. The lords of South Wales agreed to pay homage by spring 1278 and the key castle of Dolforwyn (only just completed by Llywelyn) had fallen after only a week’s siege. Thus the royal party was able to contemplate a stop at Windsor, where the unfortunate Eleanor de Montfort awaited the outcome of the war, probably with the royal nursery, before the departure to the final stage of the campaign in June.
In July, final preparations were made in Gloucester, Worcester (where the bulk of the invasion force mustered) and Chester. At the latter venue, a fleet of thirty-five ships, some from the Cinque Ports and others from a variety of locations including Gascony, was assembled. Towards the end of the month the king was at Basingwerk, near a spur of rock called the Flint, where a new castle was begun by late July. Characteristically, despite yet another impending baby, conceived some time in spring, Eleanor did not stay in Chester but parked herself at Shotwick Castle, halfway between Chester and the works at Flint – within easy reach of Edward.20
One point of interest in relation to the campaign are the echoes which we see of the principles of Vegetius, as set out in the book which Eleanor had given Edward on Crusade. So again the records show Edward’s concern for the question of provisions and supplies, with further orders for grain going out as late as 17 July: ‘An army unsupplied with grain and other necessary equipment will be vanquished without striking a blow.’ Also borrowed from classic Roman principles (most famously deployed by Caesar, but also advised by Vegetius) was Edward’s operation, which commenced in late July, to deforest either side of the route which his army would take to prevent ambush, an endeavour which involved transporting nearly 2,000 woodmen.21
With these final preparations in hand, in August Edward and Eleanor felt able to take yet another break from campaigning and head back into Cheshire for the ceremonies attending the foundation of the abbey of Vale Royal. The Mass of consecration, invoking divine assistance for the Welsh plans of the pious king, was performed by Robert Burnell, assisted by the Bishop of St Asaph. Edward laid the cornerstone, and Eleanor laid a stone for herself and one for Alphonso. Stones were also laid by the major figures in the royal retinue: the earls of Gloucester, Cornwall, Warenne, and Warwick, Maurice de Craon, Jean de Grailly, Robert Tybetot, Robert de Vere and Otho de Grandison.22
With the spiritualities seen to, on 23 August the army set out, proceeding as far as Rhuddlan, where work immediately began on another new castle. They then pressed on to Deganwy. From here, Edward was able to send the trusty pairing of John de Vescy and Otho de Grandison and a force transported by the sailors of the Cinque Ports to carry out another Vegetian strategy – to overcome the enemy by surprise and famine. The party did not engage the Welsh forces but instead occupied Anglesey, the breadbasket of Wales. At a stroke this deprived Llywelyn of his own supply store, and annexed to Edward’s army an ample supply to remain in the field for the foreseeable future. The result was inevitable; Llywelyn had to submit before winter. Although his formal submission did not come until November, it is probable that he had conveyed his submission by mid-September, when the itinerary finds Edward back at Chester, albeit spending time on and off at Rhuddlan, doubtless supervising building works. Meanwhile, Eleanor divided her t
ime between Chester, Shotwick and Shrewsbury.
By 9 November, the Rhuddlan castle had progressed sufficiently that Edward was able to take Llywelyn’s submission there, in all probability accompanied by Eleanor. The terms of the submission, negotiated by Otho de Grandison, Anthony Bek and Robert Tybetot, effectively restored the high-water mark of English power over Wales, and thus marked a very successful and satisfactory campaign.23
However the accruing costs of the building programme which accompanied and outlasted the campaign should not be neglected. At Rhuddlan, the cost of the town was about £10,000, of which over £3,000 was spent in the first eighteen months. Much of this seems to have gone to ditch diggers and carpenters. The considerably smaller town of Flint cost £7,000.24
The royal party, boosted by Llywelyn and his entourage, left the emerging new castle on 20 November and headed back to Westminster for Christmas and the Welsh prince’s formal public submission. Also on the agenda was the imminent birth of Eleanor’s next child. The trip commenced with a week surrounding Eleanor’s birthday at Shrewsbury and a visit to Robert Burnell’s house at Acton Burnell, close to Watling Street and therefore convenient for the journey back to London. At this point, the house was probably no more than a well-built manor house; the red-sandstone house that substantially stands to this day was not commenced until 1284.
The party arrived in London around 23 December 1277 – as usual, only a few days before Eleanor’s due date. On Christmas Day, Llywelyn submitted and swore fealty to Edward. Eleanor’s next child (probably a daughter) was born on around 3 January 1278 at Westminster and either died at birth or very shortly thereafter, there being no mention of a child being born in any of the chronicles. Eleanor certainly lay in for a time, since records exist of venison being sent to her by Edward late in January from his tour of Kent, which followed on from a ten-day stay on his part at the Tower, probably with the younger children. However, given that Edward did not return until late in February, and then only for a two-day layover before the court was off into Gloucestershire, it is likely that at some point in early February Eleanor made her way down to Dover to join him, and thereafter moved with him to Northbourne, Wingham, where the archbishops of Canterbury then had a palace, and Canterbury before returning to London.25
Matrimonal plans were now in the air for the children. In particular, although she was only seven years old, Joan’s marriage was already the subject of international planning. In 1277, Rudolph of Hapsburg, the new King of the Romans, had sent envoys to negotiate for Joan’s hand at the behest of her great aunt, the dowager Queen of France, who had devised a rather complicated plan by which the marriage could be used to oust the ever-popular Charles of Anjou from his tenure of Provence. The plan was obviously fanciful, but the match with the Hapsburgs offered solid recommendations and the negotiations proceeded to some level of detail, with Edward stipulating for an allowance of 11,000 marks and the title of King of the Romans for young Hartmann if his father became Emperor. Indeed, plans were made for a wedding in 1279, including the issuance of a formal invitation, safe conduct and arrangements for accompanying guests. The Kent trip therefore also provided an opportunity to see off Stephen de Pencestre and his wife Margaret, who were to cross to France and bring back young Joan from her grandmother’s custody, so as to ensure she would be back in good time before the date of her projected marriage.26
At the same time, the first steps were being taken for the marriage of the even younger Margaret – a commission from Duke John of Brabant arrived in January 1278 to negotiate her marriage with his son John, and by February emissaries were off to Compiègne to take the duke’s oath to observe the provisions of a deal already negotiated. In modern terms, the match with Brabant sounds like an odd choice. Brabant (which sprawls across parts of modern Belgium and the Netherlands) was not actually a state bordering on England or any of England’s Continental possessions. While it was not far from Ponthieu, it was not sufficiently close that there had been Ponthevin–Brabant marriages in the past. However, Brabant was a state which was seen as strategically key, with Louis IX’s brother Robert marrying into it and a marriage into Brabant even having been proposed for Edward in his youth. It was very much on the rise at the time, under the direction of the impressive and charismatic Duke John I (also known as ‘John the Victorious’). John descended on his mother’s side from the powerful dukes of Burgundy and was the new star of the tournament circuit and one of the most admired leaders in Europe. Brabant was also an emerging market for England’s key export – wool. More significantly, however, in 1274 Duke John’s sister Margaret had married Philip III of France.
Therefore, despite the fact that Duke John bid fair to set a bad example of marital fidelity to his son, a counterweight alliance with Brabant was imperative. That the alliance was with John’s second son and namesake rather than his first, Godfrey, is perhaps puzzling; however, it appears that Godfrey, who died young, was always considered unlikely to succeed to his father’s duchy. These marriage negotiations were plainly serious: details such as the subsidy to be paid by Edward and the dower allocation to be made for Margaret were all dealt with and Edward’s crack diplomatic team of John de Vescy, the Earl of Lincoln and Otho de Grandison were sent to take the Duke of Brabant’s oath on Margaret’s marriage contract.27
In March 1278, the court was off again into the Cotswolds. A letter of Edward’s from Quenington/Down Ampney conveys a sense of a king in touch with affairs, but taking a step back for a short period. He writes to Burnell and Otho de Grandison, who had moved on to Paris to deal with Gascon affairs, expressing his approval of their actions, reminding them to get as many guarantees from the Gascons as possible and complaining that the Gascons are very unreliable, so everything needs to be put firmly in writing. He jokes that they should have the faith of Mary, mother of God, and not that of St Thomas, because he will back them in all their decisions. He also gives them a chatty general round-up: Llywelyn was behaving for once and Alexander of Scotland was coming to do homage at Michaelmas in London, and he hoped he would see them back in England by that time.28
It was at about this time that Alfonso’s problems emerged again. At the Cortes in 1278, it was announced that Sancho would rule with his father. After the Cortes, Queen Violante, accompanied by her French daughter-in-law and the two de la Cerda boys, fled to the court of Violante’s brother, Pedro of Aragon, who instantly began to make political hay out of his neighbour’s dilemma. France, meanwhile, threatened war. As a result, there came an appeal from Alfonso to Edward for assistance, at the same time as a summons came from Philip III to aid him in his issue with Alfonso – a summons which he was perfectly entitled to make as Edward’s feudal lord for Gascony. To Alfonso, Edward pleaded his engagement in Wales as an excuse and encouraged Alfonso to come to terms with France. To Philip, Edward replied that he would serve if he must, though he did not want to, but would do all in his power to settle the quarrel. In the event, the French summons was not pressed; Alfonso seems to have made terms on the basis of supporting the de la Cerda claim – a decision which was to prove unfortunate for him in the next few years. It would appear, however, that Eleanor was doing her best to drum up support for the beleaguered Alfonso – Edward’s kind response to Alfonso reflects her influence. Further, Count Esquivat de Chabanais wrote to Edward, having heard that Eleanor held him in contempt for his failure to assist Alfonso the previous year in a crisis in Navarre, and begged Edward to excuse him to Eleanor. He evidently understood that Eleanor expected her friends to do what they could to assist Alfonso.29
At Easter 1278, the court went on through Wiltshire into the heart of Eleanor’s Somerset property, with stays at her manors of Somerton and Queen Camel. The latter, just recently granted to Eleanor, was sited near the Cadbury fort that provided one of the speculated locations for Camelot, and was thus a particularly appropriate stop on the way to the next venue, Glastonbury, where one of the set pieces of the reign was staged – the reburial of the reputed rema
ins of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.
This rather bizarre incident needs to be put in context. It was not a ‘discovery’ of the remains – that had occurred in 1191, a few years after Glastonbury had first been suggested as a location for the Arthurian Isle of Avalon, when the monks of Glastonbury Abbey were doing some forced renovations in the wake of a major fire. There is a real possibility that Henry II and Richard, who encouraged the ‘discovery’, were complicit in what seems likely to have been an opportunistic fraud by the monastery.
However, two forces made this a very worthwhile event for the Edwardian court. The first was that the lure of Arthur had by no means diminished in the years which had passed since the ‘discovery’. Both Edward in England and Eleanor in Castile (and doubtless all their friends) were brought up on tales of Arthur and his knights and enjoyed them wholeheartedly. Thus, even if they did take the tales with a pinch of salt, Edward himself had been enthusiastic enough to commission an Arthurian work, and Eleanor was to be the dedicatee (and probable commissioner of) the Arthurian romance Escanor.
The alleged graves would be bound to have a romantic significance for any keen reader of Arthurian tales. But the event was not simply a bit of romantic byplay – if it had been inspired by pure Arthurian enthusiasm it could have been done earlier in the reign, for example as part of the Somerset trip in 1276. This event had a far more serious point. Arthur had been claimed by the Welsh, and therefore it made sense that, while Edward was settling Welsh affairs, as he was doing for much of the year in 1278, and trying to establish himself as the authority figure for that land, he should put to bed the idea that Arthur was located somewhere in Wales, or that he was going to return to assist the Welsh, as Welsh tradition insisted. So as Morris points out, this trip was not at all akin to the trip made to Glastonbury by Henry III and the then twelve-year-old Eleanor of Provence, eager to see the grave of her hero. This was far more a gesture of ownership.
Eleanor of Castile: The Shadow Queen Page 40