by Jean Plaidy
‘Mischief,’ said Henry grimly.
‘And it will be necessary for you to stay there. You cannot accept the crown and run away. You will have to show the English that England is of more moment to you than Normandy. And meanwhile Geoffrey will remember his father’s will. Was he not to have Anjou and Maine when you had England?’
‘He would lose it to Louis … or someone. You know Geoffrey could never hold anything.’
”Tis true. And you are loath to take your hands off it. You must keep it, my son. And the only way to do this is to take your brothers with you. Make them work for you. Promise them lands … over there. But take them with you so that they cannot brew michief here.’
‘By God, you are right,’ said Henry. ‘I shall send for them and as soon as the wind is favourable we sail.’
‘It is a good thing that he did not wait a month or two before dying,’ said Eleonore lightly. ‘Or I might have been too advanced in my pregnancy to enjoy a sea trip.’
Henry was impatient to go. He hated delays. In a short time all who were to make the journey - including his brothers - were assembled at Barfleur. But if he could command his subjects Henry could not command the winds.
How tiresome was the weather! Stormy day followed stormy day. It was impossible to set sail in such weather.
Four weeks passed and then one day the seas were calm, the weather perfect.
And so Henry set sail for England.
However, the crossing was rough and it was impossible for the convoy to keep together. The ship in which Henry and Eleonore travelled landed near Southampton with a few others, but in a short time, to Henry’s relief, it was discovered that all had landed safely and it would only be a matter of a few hours before everyone was accounted for.
They were not far from Winchester, and as that was the home of the country’s treasure Henry decided to make for that city.
As he approached it, news of his arrival had spread, and the chief nobles of the neighbourhood came forward to greet him and give him their allegiance.
It was a triumphant entry into the city of Winchester. Remembering the oft-told account of his mother’s brief successes Henry realised that he must have the recognition of the people of London, that city which because of its trade and riches had become the chief of England.
He therefore determined to leave for London without delay.
The bleak December weather was not to Eleonore’s liking as she and Henry set out with their retinue for the great city. She had, it was true, grown a little accustomed to it in Paris which she had always felt so cold after her own Languedoc; but this was equally chilly and she reminded herself that it was winter and not the best time to see the place. Of course there were compensations. A crown, a country which was bigger and richer and held more prospects of power and riches than that of France. It ill-behoved her at such a prospect to object to the weather.
News of their arrival had spread over the South of England and people came from their homes to cheer the new King. They promised themselves that gone were the times when people lived in terror of robbers and murderers on the highway because of the weak rule of King Stephen. Their grandparents remembered the days of King Henry I when such stern punishment was meted out that offenders were deterred from their crimes for fear of losing their hands, feet, ears, noses, or even having their eyes put out. That had made life safe for law-abiding people. During Stephen’s reign many wicked barons had built castles with the sole purpose of using them as strongholds from which they might conduct their wicked plans to rob travellers and often take them to their castles to torture for their sport. That was a return of an old evil which those strong kings William the Conqueror and Henry I had put down. With the return of amiable Stephen they had begun to come back. Stephen had hated to punish offenders. If they were brought to him he would say: ‘Let it pass this time. Don’t do it again.’
So in this young man they saw new hope. He was the grandson of just Henry I and in direct line of succession. As long as he did not take after his mother Matilda but after his grandfather Henry they would welcome him wherever he went.
They had heard that he did and that when he was in England he had been admired and respected by those who had met him; everywhere there was great hope that he would bring back to England that law and order which had been instituted by the Conqueror.
He rode with his wife, one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. A special cheer for her then. And how graciously she responded! They had never seen such grace and poise. She wore a wimple over which was a circlet of sparkling diamonds, rubies and sapphires. Her gown was fastened at the throat by a collar of jewels similar to those in the circlet. The sleeves of this were long and tight to her wrists and over this she wore a cloak which was lined with ermine, long and wide so that the tight sleeves of her gown were visible. The English had never seen such elegance and they applauded it.
Now there would be an end to senseless civil war. They would have a just king and a beautiful queen; there would be royal children, for there was already a son and the Queen was noticeably pregnant. They knew that this Queen had been the Queen of France and had divorced the king of that country to marry their Henry.
They liked her for it. It was always pleasant to score over the French. They had already adopted Henry as an Englishman. Was he not the grandson of their own Henry I, son of the Conqueror, born in England, educated there, and who never failed to proclaim himself an Englishman?
There had been rumours about the life the Queen had led on a holy crusade. It amused them that she had played false the King of France.
So the people of England were very ready to welcome their new King and Queen.
Into London they rode, there to be met by Theobald, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the chief nobles. There was no doubt of the people’s enthusiasm. Henry made himself affable, as did Eleonore. Never for one moment did he forget the disastrous impression his mother had made on the Londoners and how this had cost her the crown.
The Archbishop was of the opinion that the coronation should take place without delay. Henry agreed with him. Until a king was crowned he was not the acknowledged ruler, his mother had warned him time and time again. Here again he had learned from her. She had never achieved the all-important coronation.
With a foresight characteristic of her, long before Stephen’s death Eleonore had sent to Constantinople for the finest material known, so that on the day of her coronation in Westminster Abbey she would be looking her most brilliant best. The materials had arrived before she left Barfleur and she had them with her.
She was therefore ready for whatever date was suggested and as Archbishop Theobald had said ‘No delay’, it was to be the 19th December.
The great day arrived. Eleonore was dressed in robes of silk and brocade of such magnificence as the people of England had never seen before. She was like a goddess. As for Henry, he was never very eager to dress himself up. He was a man of action and he asked that his garments should not impede him but be comfortable. However on his coronation day he made special concessions and because of this he was able to stand beside his elegant and luxurious queen without making too great a contrast. His short hair, his shaven chin and moustachios appealed to the people. His dress was a doublet and short cloak of the kind which was not usual in England although it was a common feature of Angevin fashion. His dalmatica, made of fine brocade, was embroidered in gold. The pair looked startlingly majestic and the spectators were enchanted.
‘Long live the King and his Queen,’ they cried wholeheartedly for they believed that a new era was beginning. There would be a colourful court, such as they loved and they could take a new interest in the lives of their royal family.
Stephen’s queen had been a good woman but the good were never so interesting as the naughty ones. Stephen himself though one of the handsomest men of his times was too mild.
They liked this pair.
The Queen would cease to be known as Eleonore and
would become Eleanor in the English fashion, and their King was affectionately nicknamed Courtmantle on account of the shortness of his cloak.
They were accepted.
The weather was bleak; the castle of Westminster was draughty, and the Queen missed the warmth of her southern home, but the glow of satisfaction she knew from this rich acquisition, this land of mystery, the possession and holding of which had been the greatest ambition of the greatest of all Conquerors, made up for any lack of comfort.
King Henry and Queen Eleanor were the rightful rulers of England. With what pride they rode through the streets; with what joy they listened to the loyal shouts of the people. And so to Westminster Palace, there to spend their first Christmas in their new land.
HENRY AND THOMAS
Chapter VI
THE KING’S WILL
As soon as the Christmas festivities were over Eleanor began to consider her lying-in. Westminster Palace did not seem a suitable spot and she decided to move to the palace of Bermondsey.
This was situated in a village close to London where, a short while before, a priory had been built. It was a pleasant place and she settled into the Saxon palace with pleasure. From the long narrow glassless windows she could see the green fields surrounding the palace and was struck by their freshness; the gardens were beautiful too and she was glad that she had come here for the birth of her second child.
Henry would not be with her during those weeks when she awaited the birth. He was very much aware of the need to consolidate his position. Although he was only twenty-one he had wisdom far beyond his years; he was a born ruler and a good judge of human nature. The cheers of the people at the coronation still rang in his ears but he was well aware how fickle the acclaim of the people could be. He would never forget that he must never relinquish his hold on the crown.
The first thing he set about doing was to choose his chief ministers. The Earl of Leicester was an obvious choice; he had already had an indication of his friendship and he had assessed the man’s character. He knew that if he was a good friend to Leicester, the Earl would be a loyal subject to him. Therefore he was his first choice. Another he chose was Richard de Luci, a man who had had some standing under Stephen. Henry did not care that he had been a supporter of Stephen. He took to the man at once and read honesty in his face, and Henry trusted his own judgement.
These two were to be his chief advisers and he told them that he intended to go into action immediately. He was going to show the people of England that he intended to restore law and order throughout the land and this meant that he must silence any who would not accept him as their King and, popular as he had been in London and Winchester, he knew he could not hope for every man in the country to acclaim him. There would for instance be all those barons who had profited by the laxity of the law and had built up riches by exploiting those weaker than themselves. He was going to make immediate war on such people and destroy their castles, and for this reason he would make a tour of the country that all might be made aware of the new King’s intentions.
This suggestion was acclaimed by his ministers and all right-thinking men and women, and great optimism swept over the country.
In Bermondsey, Eleanor awaited the birth of the child while Henry began his pilgrimage. He travelled in great state as became a king and with him rode not only his army but his domestic staff with all their accoutrements. His bed with clean straw for his bedding was carried in the cavalcade, with objects of furniture, his clothes and food. Cooks, stewards, scullions, and other members of his household staff marched with his soldiers.
People turned out in their thousands to watch the procession pass and so during those early days of his reign he began to rid the country of the brigand barons, burning down many of their fortresses much to the delight of those who had for long lived in fear of them.
There were of course many who resented this but they had little chance against the King. As the days passed he grew in strength and it was clear to many that the weak rule of Stephen was over.
Meanwhile in the village of Bermondsey Eleonor gave birth to her child.
This was a cause for great rejoicing for not only was it a boy but this time a lusty one. This was a great comfort for little William’s health had not improved and it seemed hardly likely that he would reach his manhood.
‘There is only one name for this boy,’ declared Eleanor. ‘He must be called Henry after his father.’
As soon as Eleanor had risen from child-bed she joined Henry and they went about the country together in order to show themselves to their people.
‘Let us be together while we can,’ said Henry, ‘for I fear trouble either in Normandy, Aquitaine, Maine or Anjou … and then I shall have to leave you to govern here in my absence.’
Eleanor replied that she hoped he would stay with her, but if by ill-chance he was forced to go away she would use all her skill to govern in his place and according to his wishes.
‘It was a good day when we were wed,’ he told her. ‘Two sons you have already given me and it is not so long since we were married.’
‘I am anxious about William,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t seem to have the will to live,’
‘He’ll grow out of it.’
‘You could never have been like that.’
‘Oh, I would bawl for all I wanted and when my grandfather used to dandle me on his knee, he told me that his father grasped a handful of rushes when he was a few days old and that this was a symbol of what his life would be. He’d take land wherever he found it. And it seems I took after him. You can’t expect everyone to be like us.’
‘I’d expect it of your son,’ replied Eleanor. ‘Henry is more like you. He has more life in him already than our poor little William.’
‘William’ll change. He’ll be a scholar most likely. Forget not he has two learned parents.’
Although he was smiling he was thinking of his illegitimate son by Hikenai and of his promise to bring him to court.
Not yet, he comforted himself. The boy would be too young for a few years.
During one of his visits to Bermondsey his brother Geoffrey came to the palace and demanded an audience.
Geoffrey’s looks were sullen.
‘How like you England?’ asked Henry.
‘How could I like a land in which I am a pauper depending on my brother’s whims?’ demanded Geoffrey.
‘What an impatient fellow you are!’ retorted Henry. ‘I have not had the crown long enough to dispose of land and castles.’
‘I believe some have been favoured by you.’
‘Those whose support it was necessary to have, yes. I expect yours, brother, without payment.’
‘Perhaps you expect too much,’ grumbled Geoffrey.
‘Be patient, brother. Great good will come to you if you will but be patient.’
‘Great good should have come to me by now. Did not my father leave me Anjou and Maine in his will, to be mine when you gained the crown of England?’
‘All in good time,’ parried Henry.
And he thought: How long would this boy hold Anjou and Maine? To give them to him would be to throw them to our enemies.
‘In whose good time?’ demanded Geoffrey. ‘Mine or yours?’
‘In that of the King’s,’ answered Henry; and Geoffrey went away grumbling.
Very soon afterwards Henry heard that his brother had left England and had returned to Anjou.
It was as he had expected. Geoffrey had gone back to raise men to his standard. He was declaring that he had right on his side. His father had left him Anjou and Maine which were to come to him when his brother secured the crown of England and now Henry refused to hand them over. There was only one thing to do and that was fight for them.
As Henry was occupied in England there were men ready to flock to Geoffrey’s banner.
Matilda, the Empress, had come to England. She wanted to see her son in the crown which she had always believed should have been hers. He was delig
hted to see her for her single-minded devotion to him had endeared her to him, and he believed she had never really cared for anyone but himself, and that he could rely on her advice.
He told her of Geoffrey’s fury and pointed out that he could not give him the land his father had promised him. She saw the point at once. Only her eldest son was worthy to rule. All her hopes were in him. His brothers, she, believed, should have been contented to serve him.
The more possessions in the hands of the King of England, the more powerful he would be and that was for the good of the House of Plantagenet.
‘You will never get my brothers to see that,’ sighed Henry ruefully. ‘There is also William. How shall I satisfy him? He will soon be wanting territory to rule over. I have been talking over with Eleanor a plan for conquering Ireland and setting up William as its king.’
Matilda was thoughtful. ‘That’s well enough for later on. First you must make sure of your position here, and what of Anjou and Maine? What do you think would happen if you took a war into Ireland? Geoffrey would immediately revolt and take your possessions over there. Perhaps even Normandy. Nay! You have secured the crown of England. Now make sure that you lose nothing that you have before you seek fresh conquests. You should go. and see what mischief Geoffrey is making.’
He talked this proposition over with Eleanor and she was sure that Matilda was right.
‘I shall miss you bitterly,’ she said. ‘But you must go and save Anjou and Maine.’ She grew pale. ‘Perhaps even Aquitaine is in danger. Nay, you must go. You can leave me here with Leicester and Richard de Luci. You know you can trust us.’
‘Aye, I know,’ answered Henry; and he thought: They are right. This is what happened to my grandfather and my greatgrandfather. Their lives were spent between England and Normandy because being in possession of one there was always the need to keep the other.
Eleanor was pregnant once more. He must leave her. She would be capable of ruling with the help of men whom he could trust.