by Jean Plaidy
She shook off these thoughts and gave her attention to Eleanor.
The poor child was more frightened than she would have them know.
It was not easy to be alone with Henry. He was so important now. It was hard to realise he was one of those brothers with whom she had played in those days which now seemed so long ago.
He had been their mother’s favourite – if she could be said to have had a favourite for she did not greatly care for any of them, Joan knew now. It had been such a strange life they had led in Gloucester Castle. It seemed now as hazy as a dream. Vaguely she remembered her terrifying father; he was enough to make any girl afraid of marriage. Fortunately her mother had never been afraid of him although Joan had since heard terrible tales of their life together.
Henry, who was now king, seemed very different. Perhaps it was because he was so young. He was three years older than she was and at their age that was a great deal.
She had to speak to him about Eleanor, for she must try to reassure her young sister. It would not be long before Alexander and Richard came back from Canterbury and then she would have to return to Scotland with her husband.
She did find an opportunity when he came in from riding and she waylaid him in the hall and asked if she could have a word with him in private.
He signed to his attendants to leave him and took his sister into a small antechamber where he bade her sit on one of the stools while he took the chair. It was almost as though he were reminding her that he was the King. He did that a great deal, she noticed. He will change though, she assured herself. It is just that now he has to keep reminding people in case they forget it.
‘I have little time, sister,’ he said importantly. ‘I have promised to see Hubert de Burgh very shortly. Peter des Roches gives me much trouble. He is continually trying to put me in conflict with Hubert.’
‘There is much envy there, I doubt not,’ she answered.
‘Indeed yes. Peter would be Justiciar,’ laughed Henry.
‘And rule England himself … as Hubert does.’
‘There is only one who rules England, sister, and that is the King.’
‘I know it, but I doubt not you listen to Hubert de Burgh and Stephen Langton now and then.’
‘A king cannot be everywhere in his realm at once. He must have those to work with him.’
‘And you are the admiration of your subjects, I hear.’
That placated him and softened his mood.
‘I wanted to speak to you about Eleanor,’ she said.
‘What of our sister?’
‘She has heard talk of her being given in marriage to William Marshal and that disturbs her.’
‘Where did she hear of such matters?’
‘You know how it is. People are indiscreet. The young are curious … particularly when what they hear concerns themselves.’
‘Indiscreet indeed …’
‘But this marriage, is it not common talk to all except the child it most concerns?’
‘Child! You say that as though something cruel is proposed. Our sister is of marriageable age.’
‘She is not yet nine years old.’
‘Well, of course, the marriage would not be consummated as yet.’
‘That would be left to the bridegroom’s decision, I dareswear.’
‘As it must be.’
Joan shook her head.
‘You know nothing of these matters, sister.’
‘Begging your royal pardon, I know a great deal. You forget it happened to me.’
‘But our mother was of great use to you, was she not? She took your place.’ The King laughed.
‘So you find that amusing, Henry?’
‘Far from it. They are giving us great concern over their demands for a dowry. But Hubert says it is not such a bad thing, for my mother will be able to persuade the Lusignans to stand by me against France more easily than you could have done.’
‘Then it was well that it happened so,’ said Joan wryly. ‘And why is Eleanor to be handed over so soon?’
‘Because, my dear sister, she was promised to William Marshal. You know the importance of this family. His father helped me to the throne. He and Hubert stood beside me and William would be there now if he had not died.’
‘His son was not always so faithful, was he?’
‘No. That is why he was promised Eleanor.’
‘A reward for treachery.’
‘Oh come, my dear sister. You are a princess. You know how we must work for our country. If a marriage is advantageous then it must be made.’
‘No doubt ere long you will be making an advantageous marriage.’
‘No doubt,’ said Henry.
‘But I’ll swear you’ll have more say in whom you’ll take than Eleanor has.’
‘Eleanor is only a child.’
‘That is my point. Must this marriage take place?’
‘It must. William Marshal says the time has come for us to honour the promise.’
‘Was he not married before?’
‘Yes, to Alice, Baldwin de Bethune’s daughter. She was but a child.’
‘He would seem to have a fancy for children.’
‘Understand, Joan, that these marriages are made for good reasons.’
‘Good reasons being not the affection of the partners but the advantages to accrue to their sovereigns.’
‘Do you learn such ideas in Scotland? I am surprised at Alexander.’
‘I have a mind of my own. I reason things out.’
‘Then be sensible. Eleanor will be well cared for. And she will ensure the loyalty of William Marshal.’
‘Why was Eleanor affianced to this man?’
‘A very good reason. Marshal was proposing to marry a daughter of Robert de Bruce. It was not good for England that one who has shown himself a friend of France, should put himself in the position of having influence in Scotland.’
‘I see. So Eleanor must marry him.’
‘Yes. Cheer up, sister. You will not stay with us long. Let us be merry while you do. The signs are good. Our mother married in Lusignan, you in Scotland and Eleanor shortly, with the Marshal.’
‘You have still Richard and Isabella to barter with.’
‘Their time will come,’ smiled Henry.
‘And yours, brother?’
‘And mine,’ he repeated. ‘Now I must leave you. State matters call me, sister.’
Joan looked after him when he had gone and her thoughts went back to Hugh and her fear of him when they had first met, which quickly changed to an emotion she must not think about.
Chapter IX
THE ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM LONGSWORD
Hubert de Burgh was waiting for an audience with the King. He was feeling gratified by the way in which events were moving, but he would not have been the experienced statesman he was if he had not known that there was no occasion for complacency. Since he had achieved such high office there never would be.
He knew there was whispering against him. His old enemy, Peter des Roches, Bishop of Winchester, would keep that alive. It was a battle between them and it could only end in the elimination of one of them.
Hubert felt he had the greater chance of winning because he had the King’s affection. He was not a man of the calibre of William Marshal, first Earl of Pembroke, who had on more than one occasion risked his life to uphold what he felt to be true. The character of the second Earl had yet to be proved, but he had already shown that he could change sides if he thought it the wise thing to do. Marshal the younger would have argued that when he had gone over to the French it was because he had believed that England must be rid of John at any price, and perhaps there had been good sense in such a conclusion but the fact remained that he had deserted the sovereign to whom he had sworn allegiance – something his father would never have done. Little harm had come to him through that disaffection and he was now going to get the King’s sister for his pains.
Well, Marshal was a name to be reckoned wi
th and the marriage would mean his loyalty was firm. He would be the King’s brother-in-law; and there was a certain charm about William Marshal which had already had its effect on the somewhat impressionable young King.
So when the marriage had taken place William Marshal would be established in the royal circle. Not that Hubert could complain. His wife Margaret had brought him his aura of royalty; he was the husband of the King of Scotland’s sister and that gave him a kinship with the King of England.
He had come far since the days when King John had sent him on a mission to Falaise to put out the eyes of Prince Arthur and castrate him. He had been a different man then. Rashly he had acted and out of emotion – carelessly, recklessly risking his life. Yet it was an act which, cynical statesman that he had become, he never regretted. If he had carried out John’s orders, he had said at the time, he would never after have slept peacefully in his bed. The same applied now.
Hubert knew that the murmurings around him were growing. It was said that although he had been a wise counsellor to the King he had feathered his own nest in doing so. And why not? Did they blame birds for making good nests for their young?
Two events had recently occurred which had set people’s tongues wagging. William Earl of Arundel had recently died and Hubert had been made guardian of his young heir. The death of Arundel had been shortly followed by that of Hugh Bigod Earl of Norfolk and his son and heir had been put in Hubert’s charge.
As these two young men were the heirs to considerable fortunes and were of the highest families in the land, Hubert’s wealth and above all his power was largely increased by his handling of their affairs; moreover he could have a great effect upon their future by leading them in the direction he wanted them to go.
No wonder it was being said: ‘Hubert de Burgh is in fact the ruler of England.’
He must be watchful and he would be particularly careful of Peter des Roches. Stephen Langton had brought about a reconciliation between them but it was an uneasy one.
When he was in the King’s presence he told him at once that the King of France was ignoring his demands for the restoration of Normandy and moreover had brought in the Count of Lusignan and Henry’s mother to work with him.
Henry was amazed. ‘My own mother!’ he cried. ‘How could she possibly work against me!’
‘The King of France would have made special concessions and the Count, I doubt not, though it would be more gainful to work for Louis. And of course there is the irksome matter of your mother’s dowry.’
‘Perhaps we should send it,’ suggested Henry.
‘My lord, we must not show weakness. There is only one thing we can do. We must prepare for war.’
Henry frowned. ‘I want above all things to keep the country peaceful.’
‘So do all those who wish you well, my lord, but there are times when a display of strength is necessary and unless you are going to allow the French to take everything – God knows there is little left to us – we cannot stand aside. If you do, it will be said that you are another such as your father.’
‘Let us prepare for war,’ said Henry firmly.
It was easy to plan but not so easy to carry out. Extra taxes must be raised. Hubert suggested that one fifteenth part of all movable possessions should be demanded from both the clergy and the laity, and as was to be expected this aroused murmuring throughout the land and was responsible for a wave of unpopularity for the King. It was demanded that Henry confirm the charter which his father had been forced to sign at Runnymede. This he did, as he pointed out, of his own motion and good will.
While these preparations were going on Eleanor was married to William Marshal, who was immediately appointed Justiciar of that turbulent country Ireland which meant that his stay there could be a lengthy one. The married pair left each other happily – William going off on his duties and Eleanor left behind to devote herself to the business of growing up.
So there she was back in the nursery with Isabella and being married made no difference to her way of life.
Joan was delighted for her and said that she had heard that William Marshal was a good man, and by the time he came back from Ireland perhaps Eleanor would be ready to live with him.
Joan herself returned rather sadly to Scotland and her brother Richard remained at court, for as Hubert had pointed out, he was now getting too old to be ignored.
As he had reached his sixteenth birthday Henry gave him his knight’s sword and invested him with the Earldom of Cornwall and as the plan was to send him to France to lead the expedition under the care of the old Earl of Salisbury, he was also given the title of Count of Poitou.
The young Earl, eager to prove himself, set out with great enthusiasm. His co-commander, William Longespée or Longsword as he was more generally known, was Richard’s uncle, for Longsword was a natural son of Henry II by Rosamund Clifford. He had acquired great honours – for Henry II had genuinely loved Rosamund Clifford and had done everything possible for her sons – and Longsword had married the Countess of Salisbury and through this marriage he attained his earldom. His career had not been exactly glorious for he had been a close companion of his half-brother John and, reckoned to be one of his most evil counsellors, he had been involved in many acts of cruelty for which he showed a certain relish. One of the chief of these was the affair of Geoffrey of Norwich, a very able cleric who withdrew from his office when John was excommunicated. John’s retort was to send Salisbury to seize Geoffrey. It was true he did this on John’s command but all said at the time it was one from which any humane man would have shrunk. The unfortunate Geoffrey was put in prison in Bristol where a heavy lead cope was placed upon him and he was left to die in agony.
Longsword, however, went from strength to strength and he supported John against the Barons, but changed sides when it seemed that Louis of France had come to stay. When John died Louis – whose ally he now was – sent Longsword to Hubert de Burgh to attempt to persuade him to relinquish Dover Castle. Hubert, despising him for his lack of loyalty to his nephew, the young King, berated him soundly: something Longsword was not going to forget. However, as soon as the French had left the country, Longsword immediately joined the King, declaring that he would win forgiveness for his defection by going on a crusade to whichever spot the Legate should see fit to send him.
He had proved himself to be a good soldier – though a ruthless man capable of great cruelty – and he seemed to Hubert a good choice to accompany the inexperienced young Earl of Cornwall on his first military venture.
Richard showed the makings of a good commander and his enthusiasm allied to the experience of the old Earl proved a match for Louis whose dreams of conquering Gascony had to be temporarily abandoned because Bordeaux refused to surrender to the French and as a result Gascony was saved for the English and Louis had to think again.
Leaving Richard behind, Longsword set sail for home. It was now autumn and very rough seas were encountered. There came a time when death seemed inevitable. The vessel was tossed on the heavy seas as though it were made of parchment and when all the goods on board were flung overboard, every man believed that his last moment had come.
Longsword clinging to the rail was haunted by all the evil deeds of a lifetime and he prayed aloud to the Virgin to save him, reminding her that ever since the day he had been knighted he had never failed to set a light to burn before her altar.
Then what Longsword believed to be a miracle happened. He and the sailors swore they saw a figure at the masthead. It was a beautiful woman whom they were convinced was the Virgin Mary. She had come at this hour of need, Longsword thought, to thank him for all those lighted candles.
From that moment the ship, though listing badly and at the mercy of the wind, began to drift. They came to an island and scrambled ashore.
‘Saved,’ cried William Longsword, ‘by the Blessed Virgin.’
Hubert told the King that the news was good. They had shown the King of France that they would defend their right
s. The days of John were over. A new King was on the throne and – let Louis remember – he had wise men to counsel him.
‘What next?’ asked Henry eagerly. ‘We must continue. Everything that my father lost must be regained.’
‘A campaign will need careful planning,’ Hubert reminded him. ‘We will wait for the return of William Longsword and hear what he has to tell us of Louis’s defences.’
‘Louis’s army cannot have been very good for we have defeated it.’
‘One victory does not win a war, my lord,’ warned Hubert. ‘Let us employ a little caution. We will wait for Salisbury’s report.’
A few days later Henry fell ill and Hubert feared for his life. What now? he asked Stephen Langton. There could be trouble. They must bring Richard back without delay. The country was enjoying only a superficial peace and Peter des Roches would be watching for his opportunity.
Stephen Langton declared they must employ patience. The King was young; he was not a weakling. They would do everything in their power to bring him back to health and they would not let anyone know how uneasy they were.
Richard, the new Earl of Cornwall, had certain qualities of leadership which perhaps his brother lacked, but he would be difficult to handle. Fortunately he was there to follow if need be but they would hope and pray that Henry would recover.
He did and no sooner was he well again than he began to talk of preparing for the campaign for France. If they were going to win back their possessions, Henry wanted the glory. He was not going to let Richard claim it on the strength of one campaign.
Louis then made a strange decision. Whether he feared the forces which had come against him, or whether he had some premonition, no one knew; but he suddenly decided that he was going to join the Church’s forces against the Albigensians. This meant that he had undertaken what was tantamount to a crusade. It had the effect which perhaps Louis had desired. The Pope sent a command to the English King that he was not to take up arms against the King of France who was now engaged on a holy war.
