by Jean Plaidy
He was faintly relieved that she had no inkling of his relationship with young Alice. Most certainly she had not, for if she had she would never have been able to keep it to herself. She would have burst out with it, and doubtless made trouble. What trouble she could make! The betrothed of Richard! The daughter of Louis! What had he done! No sooner had he extricated himself from the trouble over Thomas à Becket’s murder than he had seduced the not yet twelve-year-old daughter of the King of France.
But Eleanor was right. He did think that there was one set of rules for him and another for the rest of the world.
He was the King of England and controlled large areas of the Continent. He would do what he wished and none should dare condemn him.
But he had had to humiliate himself over Thomas and had seduced the daughter of the King of France.
He must be very careful for it was clear that Eleanor would never divorce him, which meant that he could never make little Alice his wife.
Chapter IV
CASTLES FOR JOHN
In Montferrand in the Auvergne, Count Humbert of Maurienne had arrived with little Alice who was to be betrothed to Prince John, and there, the little six-year-old Prince, who had arrived from England, was formally betrothed to the Count’s daughter.
It was a charming ceremony. Henry felt quite tender towards his youngest son. This one’s mind had not been poisoned by his mother. It shall be different with John, Henry promised himself. He was delighted with the arrangement when he considered the fine dowry John’s bride was bringing him and all for a payment of five thousand marks … and this to be paid in instalments, the last of which would not be due until the marriage.
Henry was extending his empire far and wide.
There was one discordant note. After the ceremony there were to be celebrations in several towns, for Henry wished everyone to know what good this marriage would bring by giving his family control of more provinces. They were to spend a few days at Limoges and it was while they were there that Count Humbert began to ask himself what John was bringing to his daughter. It was true that young Alice would have the King’s son for a bridegroom and that King the most powerful in Europe, but John had three elder brothers who had already been promised the cream of his father’s possessions. His fears had been roused when he had heard the youthful bridegroom referred to as John Lackland.
Being a forthright man he decided to speak to the King about this matter.
‘You have not yet told me, my lord, what possessions your son John will bring to the marriage.’
Henry was silent for a few moments. He was thinking: The ceremony has been performed. He cannot withdraw now. But he could. How often had betrothals taken place and there had been no marriage!
He had no doubt that Humbert would listen respectfully to whatever he said and if he had nothing to offer John he would go back to his dominions and make some excuse why the marriage should not take place.
He thought quickly. ‘John,’ he said, ‘shall have the castles of Mirebeau, Loudon and Chinon.’
‘I am pleased to hear it,’ replied Humbert smiling and satisfied. ‘Those will be a goodly heritage, and with what my daughter brings to the marriage they will be very comfortably settled indeed.’
Henry congratulated himself that he had overcome a difficult situation with great ease.
He had in fact aroused a hornets’ nest.
The Court was talking about the portion that John was bringing to the marriage, and there was a certain amount of malice in the talk, for the three castles which Henry had designated to John had already been given to his son Henry as they were situated in Anjou which, with Normandy and England, was the inheritance of the King of England. Therefore the King had robbed Henry to pay John.
When Eleanor heard, she burst out laughing.
‘Now, my son, you understand your father’s ways. Promises to him are made to be broken. Next you will hear that he has bestowed the crown of England on someone of his fancy.’
‘I’ll not endure it,’ cried Henry, almost in tears.
‘Nor should you,’ answered his mother.
‘What can I do?’
‘Your brother Richard would know what to do. When he heard he said: “By God, if he tries to lay his hands on Aquitaine, I will place myself at the head of any army and march against him.”’
‘Go into battle against my own father!’
‘It has been done before.’
‘Oh, no!’ cried Henry.
‘You lack Richard’s spirit,’ said Eleanor watching closely.
‘I do not,’ retorted Henry. ‘I am the King of England, remember.’
‘No one will remember it if you allow your estates to be filched from you.’
‘I will go to him. I will tell him I will not have it.’
‘Go then,’ said the Queen.
He stood before his father.
‘Father, I must speak with you.’
‘Say on, my son.’
‘The castles you have given to John belong to me.’
‘You are mistaken,’ said the King. ‘These are mine. They are still mine. They always will be mine.’
‘But I am the Count of Anjou … and … and these castles are part of my lands.’
‘You have titles which I have given you. I can take them away if I wish. You must remember this, Henry. There is one King of England, one Count of Anjou, one Duke of Normandy while I live.’
‘You have given me these titles.’
‘They are titles … nothing more. If I were to die tomorrow then England, Anjou, Normandy would be yours. But I am not dead. Nor do I intend to die so that you can possess now that which if you wait long enough will in due course be yours.’
‘I am no longer a boy,’ cried Henry.
‘Then why behave like one?’
‘I am not behaving like one. I will not be told to do this and that. I want lands to govern. If you want Normandy give me England. Let me stand on my own.’
The King laughed scornfully. ‘Do you think you could hold these dominions together?’
‘I do. I do.’
‘I do not and I know. You have to learn to rule.’
‘How old were you when you became Duke of Normandy and King of England?’
‘I had learned to govern when those honours came to me.’
‘I will learn. I have learned.’
God’s eyes, thought Henry, what a mistake to crown this boy King! I never made a greater mistake in all my reign – except it were to make Thomas à Becket my Archbishop of Canterbury.
‘You will do as I wish,’ he said shortly.
‘Others think I should not be treated in this way.’
‘Who thinks this?’
‘The King of France. Some of my knights think it too.’
‘So you discuss our affairs with a foreign king?’
‘Louis is my father through marriage.’
‘And doubtless would like to see trouble in my realm. Louis is our enemy … our natural enemy. We can make truces and peace with him through our marriages, but the fact remains that he is the King of France and I am the King of England and as such we are enemies. As for your knights, I would know who these fellows are who speak and act treason. I will tell you this, son. They will no longer be your knights.’
‘I tell you I will not be treated in this way. If you are a king, so am I.’
‘Through my grace.’
‘It matters not through whose grace. I am a king and known as such.’
It was true.
The King was silent for a while. Then he said: ‘If you will be a king you have lessons to learn. You shall begin without delay. I shall keep you at my side and when you have learned your business you can be of great use to me. Mayhap then you will be left in charge of certain of my dominions when my presence is needed elsewhere. Till then you will do as I wish. Go now. I have finished what I have to say.’
Young Henry went away with a dull anger in his heart. It was not appeased wh
en he heard that certain of his knights had been dismissed from his service and sent back to England with a warning that they had been treated with leniency on this occasion, but should they displease the King again that clemency would not be repeated.
Then the King declared that he was leaving Limoges for Normandy and that his son Henry would accompany him.
Eleanor took leave of her son for she was travelling back to Aquitaine with Richard and Geoffrey.
‘Depend upon it,’ she whispered to young Henry, ‘he will keep you at his side so that he will have his eyes on you. You will endure more restraint than ever.’
‘I’ll not endure it,’ declared Henry.
‘The King of France said he would shelter you, did he not, if you found the situation with your father intolerable?’
‘My father says he is our enemy.’
‘And who is your real enemy, pray? Is it not the one who has robbed you of part of your inheritance? Might not his enemy be your friend? You are no longer a child, my son. It is time you woke up and took what is yours.’
‘He will never permit me to have it.’
‘There are many against him. Why should you not take what he will not give you? Think about it.’
Henry did think and grew excited thinking. But the King was determined that he should accompany him to Normandy.
Marguerite went back to visit her father before she returned to England and the two Henrys left Limoges for Normandy.
Father and son rode side by side. I shall have to watch him, thought the older Henry. I believe his mother has been urging him to rebellion. I begin to believe I never had a greater enemy than my wife. But the boy is young; I will soon subdue him. At the same time he was saddened by the situation. How pleasant it would have been to have had an affectionate son, one whom he could trust. He had always hoped that would be the case with Henry. Richard he knew would never care for him. His mind had been poisoned at too early an age. But perhaps if he could make this boy see reason they could work together, side by side and he could teach him to be a great king. If England were to be a great power she needed a strong king. Surely the people realised what could happen with a weak one? They had seen what the rule of Stephen had done to the country. Many of them had lived through those years of civil war when Matilda and Stephen had wrestled for the crown and then ineffectual Stephen had followed. Men such as the Conqueror, Henry I and Henry II were what the country needed. And this boy would be the third Henry; he must match up to the first two. Could he be taught? Could he be made to see that he must curb this personal vanity for power, for that was what it was? What a handsome boy he was and one had to admit he was possessed of a great charm of manner when he was not sullen as he was now. Good looks were an asset in a king; Stephen had had them; but one could get along very well without them if one had strength and that inborn genius which gives a man some secret magnetism to arouse the respect and fear of men. When he looked back on the preceding reigns it was so easy to select those who had ruled well and those badly and the two great kings were two of a kind and he trusted he was in the same category.
He must make young Henry see this.
So he talked to him as they rode, in a friendly fatherly fashion. He tried to convey to the boy that he wanted to teach him to be a great king, and it was partly for this reason that he did not wish to put a great strain on his inadequate powers now. But even he knew that he could not bear to take his own hands from the reins. It was true that once he had acquired possessions he could not bring himself to part with them.
He curbed his temper in his effort to win the boy’s affection. He tried to joke pleasantly while he instructed him. He began to believe that at last he was making some headway.
The younger Henry listened to his father and his resentment grew every day. How strong he is! he thought. He will live for years. I shall be an old man before I have a chance to rule and while he lives he will never give way one little bit. I am a king. There are many who would rather follow me. Nobody loves him. They are afraid of him. That is the only reason why they do not revolt. But if they had a leader, a leader they loved, respected, admired … what then? When he was riding beside his father revolt seemed impossible. But when he was alone he kept thinking of his mother’s words. She was powerful. Aquitaine would rise for her against her husband if she wished it.
He began to grow excited. If he could get away he could go to the King of France, and there he could rally men to his banner. His mother would help him, for she hated her husband. Why should he wait on his father for years and years until he was an old man without ambition?
His father seemed to sense that rebellion in him. He kept him at his side and at night he insisted that they share the same room.
‘It will show all what good friends we have become,’ he said jocularly.
Young Henry said nothing. He was afraid of betraying his thoughts.
He had sounded one or two of his friends. Would they be ready to follow him? They were cautious. They greatly feared the King’s rages. Already he had dismissed certain knights from his son’s suite with dire warnings of what would happen to them if he ever found them speaking treason. And yet the young King had great charm, his mother hated his father to such an extent that she had been heard to swear that she would never live with him again. It was said that when she had gone off to Aquitaine she had declared she would never return. There was certainly some truth in this because the Archbishop of Rouen had warned her that if she left her husband the Church would blame her and this could lead to excommunication.
Eleanor cared as little for the Church as her husband did and had ignored the Archbishop’s reproof. But it showed how much she disliked his father and that she would be ready to help her son against him.
Moreover the King was still under the shadow of suspicion which had risen from the murder of the Archbishop of Canterbury. There had been whispers that Heaven would not allow him to prosper.
In the circumstances there were some who were ready to support the young King against the old and the former, discovering who these were, made his plans for escape.
They had reached the chateau of Chinon. It had been an exhausting day’s ride and the older Henry was very tired. He said they would retire early and get a good night’s sleep before setting off early in the morning.
No sooner had his father fallen into a deep sleep than young Henry rose from his bed, dressed hastily and made his way to the stables. There horses were saddled and waiting and he and a few of his trusted knights rode with great speed towards the French border.
When the King awoke to find his son had gone his rage was intense. He roared at his attendants, cuffing them right and left. Why had he not been told? Who had aided his son? Who had gone with him? By God’s eyes, they should be sorry they had ever been born.
But he was quick to realise that he was wasting his time giving way to his fury. His son would have gone to the French border. He had hinted as much. He would seek sanctuary with Louis which was the last thing Henry wanted him to do.
He shouted instructions. They were leaving at once and they would change direction. They were going to the French border. He sent riders in several directions and mounting the fastest of his horses he set out on the chase.
Young Henry, however, had had a good start and although his father made every effort to catch up with him, he failed to do so and after two days Henry arrived at the Court of France.
Louis was delighted to see him. At the evening’s banquet given in Henry’s honour, he sat at the right hand of the King of France. He told young Henry that he would support him in his claim for Normandy for he thought it fair to do so. The young man had sworn his oath of allegiance to Louis his suzerain and therefore the King regarded him as a vassal. If he wished to gain territory which by right belonged to him then his cause was a just one and the King saw it as his duty to aid his vassal.
Young Henry was delighted. He had taken the first step and it had been comparatively easy.
/> When the King of England heard that his son was at the Court of France and being entertained with honour by the King of France, his anger flared up.
He sent a message to Louis in which he said that the King of England demanded that his son be sent back to him.
Louis’s reply was: ‘I do not understand this message. The King of England is with me. If by the King of England you mean the King’s father, then I do not regard him as the King of England. He was I know formerly King of England but he resigned his crown to his son, and is no longer King.’
When Henry received this message he bit his lips and hit his thighs with his clenched fists until he was bleeding and bruised.
He was angry as much with himself as with his son and the King of France.
He had no doubt now that his greatest act of folly had been to allow his son to be crowned King.
The news reached Eleanor of Aquitaine where she was holding one of her Courts of Love in which her troubadours sang romantic songs and brought their literary efforts for her to judge.
The messengers came from the Court of France and she stopped the singing that she might hear the news without delay.
When she heard that her son Henry had successfully escaped from his father she laughed with pleasure.
‘Rejoice,’ she cried. ‘He is my true son after all. He has decided that he will no longer endure the bonds of tyranny. Ah, how I wish I could have seen my husband when he received that news. I doubt he ever fell into a greater rage. No more singing. I wish to be alone with my sons.’
When the troubadours had left in a somewhat crestfallen manner she turned to Richard and said: ‘You know what this means?’
‘It means that we are going to war against my father.’
