The Queen from Provence

by Jean Plaidy

  Edward cried out in horror at the thought of being shot through this terrifying engine which was used for throwing down stones on the enemy. It would be certain death.

  ‘You do not mean this.’

  ‘It will be done, my lord, if your friends do not go away.’

  ‘Let me speak to them.’

  The men looked at each other and one of them nodded and retired.

  When he returned he said: ‘Orders are that your hands should be bound behind your back, my lord. Then we will take you to the parapet. From there you will speak to your friends. If you tell them to go away, your life will be saved.’

  ‘I will do it,’ he said, for indeed there was no alternative but terrible death. So they tied his hands and he stood on the parapet and told them that unless they wanted his death they must disperse and go away, for his captors meant that if he came to them it would be by way of the mangonel.

  Sir Warren hastily retired; and when news of what had happened was sent to Eleanor she wept with anger.

  Simon de Montfort came in all haste to Wallingford. The news of Basingbourne’s attempt had shocked him. It could so easily have succeeded. It had been a brilliant idea to threaten to shoot Edward out to them. However, an ill-defended castle was no place for such prisoners.

  In the hall of the castle all the prisoners were brought to him.

  ‘My lords,’ he said, ‘I am grieved that you have been treated with less than respect. I assure you that it was no intention of mine.’

  ‘You do not make that intention very clear,’ retorted Edward.

  ‘I am sorry if you have not perceived it,’ replied Simon calmly. ‘It is true that your movements are restricted but I trust you lack no comfort here in the castle.’

  ‘You traitor,’ cried Edward. The others were silent. Simon shrugged his shoulders and turned to the King.

  ‘My lord, it was no wish of mine that this should have happened. The laws of the country must be justly administered. Our Parliament will do that and if we can come to some agreement …’

  ‘We shall make no agreements with you, my lord,’ said the King firmly.

  ‘Then I will continue with the matter of which I came to speak. You must prepare to leave Wallingford.’

  ‘Where is our next prison to be?’ asked Edward.

  ‘You are to go to Kenilworth.’

  ‘Kenilworth!’ cried Edward.

  ‘It is my own castle. Your aunt will receive you there. I think you will be happier with a member of your own family.’

  The prisoners were silent. This was interesting. The King’s own sister was the châtelaine of Kenilworth. Surely she would be sympathetic to the members of her own family. But they had to remember that she was also Simon de Montfort’s wife.

  They left that day for Kenilworth, where the King’s sister Eleanor de Montfort, Countess of Leicester, received them with affection.

  ‘At least,’ said Edward, ‘it will not seem as though we are prisoners here.’

  ‘Eleanor!’ Henry’s eyes filled with tears at the sight of his sister.

  She embraced him and said, ‘Oh Henry, this is a sorry business. Richard, Edward, I would you had come here in different circumstances.’

  ‘Do not blame us for the circumstances,’ said Edward.

  The King put up a hand to silence him. Simon de Montfort was Eleanor’s husband and they must not take it amiss because she was loyal to him.

  They sat down in the great hall. They might have been paying a family visit, but of course they knew that the castle was surrounded by de Montfort’s guards and that they were in a stronger prison than they had been in at Wallingford.

  The long days slowly passed. Eleanor did all she could to make them comfortable. She would not allow them to criticise Simon, and she made it clear that although she wished to treat her family as her family while they were under her roof she clearly believed in the righteousness of her husband’s actions.

  ‘Eleanor was always a woman of strong beliefs,’ said Henry to the King of the Romans. ‘And once she had made up her mind on a course of action it would take strong men to move her … and then she would outwit them.’ He could not help but admire her. Her character was not unlike that of his own Eleanor. His sister had determined to marry Simon de Montfort when he had seemed to be nothing more than an adventurer; but she had sensed greatness in him, for Henry had to admit that a man who could take a country from its rightful King and set himself up as ruler, however misguided he might be, had an unusual power.

  Now, in a dignified manner, which Henry could not but admire, she played the role of hostess to her imprisoned relations while never for a moment did she forget her loyalty to her husband.

  Christmas came and Eleanor endeavoured to make the celebrations as gay as was possible in the circumstances, but always the guards remained stationed at certain points of the castle and encamped outside the walls.

  Edward was frustrated.

  There seemed no hope of escape. Meanwhile Simon de Montfort with his new Parliament was controlling the country.

  There was trouble for Simon from an unexpected direction. One of his firmest supporters had been Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester – the grandson of that Isabella who had been the first wife of Richard, King of the Romans. Gilbert, in his early twenties – called the Red because of the colour of his hair – was, on account of his inheritance on the death of his father but a few years before, one of the most influential barons in the country. He had formed a friendship with Simon, whom he greatly admired, and because of his wealth and energy he had become second-in-command of the baronial party. Gilbert had had the honour of taking the King’s sword from him when Henry was taken prisoner at Lewes. He had had a hand in drawing up the truce between the King and the barons which was known as the Mise of Lewes in which the Provisions of Oxford were confirmed. In this, there was a special clause exempting Simon de Montfort and Gloucester from any punishment for their conduct.

  Gloucester was young and impressionable, and with him the friends of one day could become the despised enemy of the next. He was fickle, a fact of which Simon in the early days of their relationship, had not been aware.

  Many of the royal supporters who had escaped after Lewes had taken refuge in that part of the country on the Welsh border known as the Marches of Wales. The lords who owned castles there were the Marcher Lords and they had always been a source of irritation to the English. It seemed to Simon that Gloucester, far from attempting to force the Marcher Lords to give up those whom they were sheltering, was protecting them.

  This was disconcerting.

  Gloucester began to bring charges against de Montfort. He declared that Simon had taken the larger share of the castles which had been confiscated after the royal defeat at Lewes, and discussing the matter with his wife Simon showed himself to be growing uneasy.

  If the King ever regained his crown what would happen to Simon and their sons? Simon reminded her of the clause in the Mise of Lewes but Eleanor shook her head.

  ‘Do you think that would be considered? We should have to fly the country, I suppose. It would be necessary for us to get out in time. Vengeance would be terrible. Edward would show no mercy even if Henry did.’

  ‘My dear, we must not contemplate defeat.’

  ‘No, but I believe we should consider it. It is well to be prepared for anything that may happen.’

  ‘I have to see Gloucester without delay. I have to find out what all this is about.’

  ‘You can safely leave me in charge of your prisoners.’

  ‘I know. Henry and his brother will be safe. It is Edward I fear. I believe at this moment he is planning escape. He is different from his father. I can see a great King there, but at this time he is young and rash. I think he will attempt to escape. No, I must go to Gloucester, but I shall take Edward with me.’

  ‘And leave the others here?’

  ‘I believe that to be the wise thing to do.’

  When Edward heard that
he was to leave Kenilworth he was excited. Any movement was better than this lack of action.

  The journey proved to be more exciting than even he had dared hope. It was not long before he realised that there were traitors in Simon’s camp. A man such as de Montfort who had achieved so much and was admired by some almost to adoration was certain to attract a great deal of envy and although there were many who would have died for him there were others who were ready to risk their lives to harm him.

  The latter were those who could be of use to Edward.

  One of these was Thomas Clare, the Earl of Gloucester’s younger brother. Thomas managed to exchange a few words with him as they rode along.

  ‘My lord,’ he whispered, ‘you have friends among us.’

  ‘That makes good hearing,’ replied Edward.

  ‘The Queen your mother is amassing an army which is almost ready to march.’

  ‘I have heard that is so,’ answered Edward.

  ‘If you could join it … with some of your loyal friends who are waiting to serve you …’

  The conversation was interrupted but Edward’s spirits were soaring. This undignified state of affairs was coming to an end. He felt it in his bones. He was not meant to remain a prisoner.

  On another occasion Thomas de Clare said to him, ‘There is a plan, my lord. Roger Mortimer is prepared to help.’

  ‘Mortimer!’ cried Edward. ‘He is a traitor.’

  ‘No longer so, my lord. It is true that he gave his support to de Montfort, but he is withdrawing it at the best moment to be of use to you.’

  ‘Can I trust a man who was once a traitor?’

  ‘Mortimer does not regard himself as a traitor. He says he serves England and he thought best to do so under Leicester. Now he has changed his mind … as my brother has. De Montfort is an ambitious man. He has taken the King’s castles for himself. Men are turning against him. You can rely on Mortimer now. Besides his wife has always been a supporter of the Queen and your father. She has at last prevailed on her husband to change sides and this he has done.’

  ‘I like not men who change sides.’

  ‘My lord, suffice that they come to serve you. You need men who will leave Leicester and come to you.’

  ‘You are right, Thomas. What will Mortimer do?’

  ‘It is a simple plan, my lord. When we reach Gloucester you will be allowed certain freedom. The Earl of Leicester is most anxious that your royalty shall not be debased. You will take exercise in the grounds inside the castle walls. All know your interest in horses. You will challenge your attendant guards about their horses and ask to test their endurance. There should be four of them. You will challenge them to races and you will see that every horse including your own will be exhausted. You will continue until then. Then you will mount your own tired horse and ride out. You will not be followed because they will know that you cannot go far. But there hidden by the trees Lord Mortimer will be waiting with a fresh horse. You will mount it and ride away with him. Your own tired mount will return to the castle … without you.’

  ‘A simple plan,’ said Edward. ‘Will it work?’

  ‘It is for you, my lord, to make it.’

  ‘I will,’ cried Edward. ‘By God I will.’

  It was working. They believed him. He had always been interested in horses.

  He would test them, he said. They would have a wager as to which of the five – their four and his – were the best. He insisted that they race with him. Round and round the castle they went. He contrived to finish neck and neck with one or two of them and insisted that they race again … all five of them.

  To the guards it seemed as good a way of passing the time as any. Their horses would be tired out but the day was almost over and they could go straight to their stables.

  Edward won the race. The horses were sweating and fit for little.

  ‘Poor old fellow,’ said Edward, patting his. ‘You have had enough, I’ll warrant. Never mind. You have done well and shall rest.’

  The guards were leading their horses towards the stables; Edward was with them.

  He lagged behind and then turning his horse suddenly made his way towards the thicket a short distance from where they had run their races.

  His heart beat wildly with hope for there was Roger Mortimer as had been arranged. He was seated on a horse and holding another – strong, fresh, ready for fast riding.

  Edward said: ‘Thank God.’ And leaped into the saddle.

  ‘Which way?’ he said.

  ‘Follow me, my lord.’

  In a few seconds he was galloping away to safety.

  In Ludlow the Earl of Gloucester was waiting for him.

  The Earl received him with great respect and congratulated him on his escape.

  ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘there are many barons in the country who would be ready to serve with you. They are still against the King but if you would give certain promises I am sure that they would be ready to follow you.’

  ‘You do not think I would go against my father?’

  ‘You mistake me, my lord. They would merely wish you to give certain assurances and would ask you to persuade your father to stop acting in a manner which has brought about this rebellion. The people want the good and ancient laws brought back and obeyed. They want an abolition of those evil customs which recently have overtaken the kingdom. Aliens must be removed from the realm and from the council. They must not be allowed to retain the castles which have been bestowed on them, nor take part in the government. All we ask, my lord, is that England be governed once more by Englishmen. If you are victorious, if you defeat de Montfort, would you bring this about? If you will give your solemn word, I can promise you the help of powerful lords.’

  ‘I swear it,’ said Edward.

  ‘Then I will summon a council of those who would be prepared to work with you.’

  ‘Pray do this,’ cried Edward.

  It was gratifying to be joined by Hugh Bigod and Earl Warrenne.

  Edward was in fine spirits. He was free. He was bent on victory. He was determined to learn from his earlier mistakes that nothing of that nature would happen again.

  With a good army – for more and more barons were coming to his aid – he took possession of the country along by the Severn and destroyed the bridges so that de Montfort’s army was cut off. He knew that de Montfort’s son, the younger Simon, was raising an army in London where there would be plenty of volunteers to come against the King and his endeavour was to stand between the de Montfort armies and to prevent their joining up.

  News came that young Simon was on the march and had reached Kenilworth. Now the position seemed to have changed and instead of Edward’s splitting the two de Montfort armies, he was caught between them which was not an enviable position to be in.

  But there was some good news. The Queen, as indefatigable in her efforts as ever, had succeeded in raising an army and was waiting at the French coast for the weather to allow it to cross the Channel. The gales at this time made the journey impossible, but it was a comfort to know that it was there.

  While he was in his tent with Thomas de Clare, Mortimer and Warrenne going over the possibilities of attacking the de Montfort armies and carefully considering the position in which they found themselves between Simon de Montfort the elder and the younger, and Edward was saying that they must not act rashly, remembering how the loss of the battle of Lewes was due to him, a woman was brought into the camp.

  A camp follower! Edward wondered why she should beg to be taken to him!

  The woman was tall, and her face was hidden by a hood so that it was not easy to see whether she was handsome or not. Edward had no desire to dally with women. He had given up his amorous adventurings when he had settled down with his wife; moreover thoughts of military matters now occupied his mind.

  ‘Who is this woman,’ he demanded, ‘and why do you bring her to me?’

  ‘She calls herself Margot, my lord,’ said the guard who had brought her in, �
�and she begs to have word with you.’

  ‘For what purpose?’ cried Edward and was about to order her to be removed when he remembered afresh his rashness at Lewes.

  ‘Leave her with us,’ he said, and the guard retired.

  ‘Pray state your business,’ said Edward.

  Margot removed the cloak. It was immediately obvious that this was no woman.

  ‘My lord,’ said ‘Margot’, ‘I pray you hear me. I would serve the King and your noble self. I come from Kenilworth.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Edward. ‘Say on.’

  ‘The traitor de Montfort has commanded his son to attack you. He intends to squeeze you between the two armies.’

  ‘That we know well.’

  ‘My lord, the army at Kenilworth is not as disciplined as that of the elder de Montfort. They are not expecting attack. They are waiting for the signal from the elder de Montfort, then they will advance and begin the battle. At night they are not well guarded. They leave their horses and their weapons unattended. It would be a simple matter to creep up on them after dark and destroy them.’

  Edward looked at his friends.

  ‘There seems sense in this.’

  ‘Do we trust this man?’ asked Edward.

  ‘My lord, I came here … risking my life for the King. If you do not believe me then do not act on my advice. Let me stay here your prisoner until you have proved my loyalty.’

  Edward was on the point of rewarding the man and sending him on his way but again he remembered his rashness at Lewes.

  ‘Let us do this,’ he said. ‘If we find you are indeed our friend, you shall be rewarded.’

  A dark night. The castle was silent. Only here and there on the battlements a torch flickered. Slowly, silently, Edward and a picked force crept forward. A little way behind was the bulk of the army ready for attack.

  ‘Margot’ had not lied. The de Montfort troops were taken completely by surprise. All those on guard in the castle were taken within half an hour, including their weapons. Those in their beds in the castle were caught without their clothes let alone their armour.