Виктория Холт - The Courts of Love: The Story of Eleanor of Aquitaine

Geoffrey said: “Perhaps it would be better to forget them. They are not worthy of a moment’s thought.”

“Don’t be a fool,” retorted the King. “I must know my enemies and I regard these as such.”

Geoffrey suggested that he should try to rest.

“Send my son John to me as soon as he comes,” said the King.

He did sleep after that. There was terrible consternation in the camp, for everyone knew how ill he was. The fact that he would not admit it could not disguise it.

When he awoke he saw Geoffrey and William Marshal whispering together. He heard Geoffrey say: “Better not to show it to the King.”

Henry was then fully awake, demanding to know what was not to be shown to him. They were holding something back. What was it? They tried not to tell him but he saw through their ruse and demanded to know.

At length they admitted that it was the list which Philip Augustus had obligingly supplied.

Why were they hiding it? They should bring it at once or feel the weight of his wrath.

I could imagine his anguish when he saw that the name at the head of the list of those who had deserted him was that of his son John.

He could no longer deceive himself.

Did he think of that picture at which he had often looked so sadly? Did he see how true it was? The old eagle worn out ... finished ... and the young eaglets waiting to finish him off. They could not wait for him to reach his end gracefully. They were ready to snatch from him that which he had been so reluctant to give during his lifetime.

Gone were all his illusions. He had gained much territory; he had been the most powerful man in Europe—but he had failed to win the love of his sons, and that was something he had dearly wanted.

He did refer to the picture, they told me. He said: “You see, it was right. My youngest was waiting for the moment when it seemed that all was lost to me, that he might peck out my eyes. I no longer wish to live ... unless it is to take revenge on them. They are her children ... all of them. That she-wolf ... who laughs at me. I made her my prisoner but still she laughs at me, and she defeats me through her sons ...”

I think he must have been delirious then. He talked about the early days of our marriage and of Rosamund and Alais ... the three women who were most important to him among the myriads he had known.

Geoffrey was beside him, for he was uneasy when this son was not there.

“Would to God you had been my legitimate son,” he said to him. “Why did it have to be the bastard who was loyal to me?” He asked Geoffrey to call him “Father.” He said: “You are the best son I ever had. The sons of the Queen have been my enemies, and the son of a whore my friend.”

Geoffrey and Marshal consulted together. They thought the end was near and they should call a priest.

There was no priest. In fact, they were almost alone with the King. He was dying and all knew it. Most of the knights were concerned for their own safety. What would happen to them when he was dead? There was no point in remaining if the King were dying.

I hope he did not know they were deserting him. Geoffrey and William Marshal kept that fact from him. They remained by his bedside and watched life slowly ebb away.

Then he looked at them with anguish in his eyes. He grasped Geoffrey’s hand, and suddenly the young man felt the grip slacken.

He bent over his father. The King murmured: “Oh, the shame that I suffer now ... the shame of a vanquished King.”

And those were the last words of Henry Plantagenet.

WHEN I HEARD THE news of Henry’s death I was deeply shocked. My mind was a jumble of impressions from the past. I did not know whether I was glad or sorry. The idea of a world without that maddening, devious personality, who meant no good to me, was somehow empty.

I supposed that everyone who had lived close to him must have been deeply impressed by him. He was no ordinary man. He was unique. Whenever I had encountered him I felt a great excitement; to do battle with him had been as stimulating as making love had been.

It was strange to remember that he had gone forever.

But why should I mourn? I had been his prisoner for sixteen years. He had dared treat me thus. Now I was free. My beloved son Richard was King of England. Everything would be different from now on.

Even before orders came that I was to be released, people behaved differently. There were no more guards, no more locked doors. With Richard King, his mother would be the most important woman in the land.

William Marshal arrived at Winchester almost immediately. To my surprise he came from Richard. I could not help but be amazed after what I had heard of their encounter when Marshal had been on the point of killing him. Marshal himself told me what had happened and how it was that Richard had chosen him to be his messenger.

After the King’s death he and Geoffrey had carried him to Fontevrault Abbey and sent word to Richard that his father was dead.

There Henry lay, stripped of his jewels and all possessions, which those who deserted him had taken before they went. There were very few besides Marshal and Geoffrey who had remained faithful to him.

That was perhaps one of the saddest aspects of all.

Richard had arrived at Fontevrault and stood beside the dead King. It was typical of William Marshal that he did not attempt to make his escape, although it must have occurred to him that after what had happened he would have little mercy from the new King.

Richard had moved away from the corpse and signed to Marshal to follow him.

He said: “There is work for you to do, William Marshal. I cannot return to England immediately. Go to my mother and, with her, guard my kingdom until I return.”

William was so taken aback that he stared at the King in amazement.

Richard said: “I trust those men who are faithful to their kings, and I believe you will be so to the new one as you were to the old.”

William took his hand and kissed it.

“I will, my lord King,” he said.

I was delighted. Richard was not always by nature magnanimous, but I considered this a gesture worthy of a shrewd king; William Marshal’s acceptance of him made me feel that everything I had heard of him was true.

A king needs men such as William Marshal about him.

Thus it was that he arrived in England and came straight to me.

William brought letters from Richard in which he stated that I was to have full command of the kingdom until his return. My orders should be obeyed as though they came from the King himself. I was delighted and gratified by his trust. It was my duty now to prepare the people for him. I knew they would be feeling a little dubious.

He had never shown much interest in England; he had been out of it for most of his life. I had to make them realize that he was a strong man, a worthy successor to his father.

A further shock awaited me. Following almost immediately on the news of Henry’s death came that of Matilda. She had in fact died a few days before her father. I was glad he had been spared the grief of knowing this.

He had skillfully negotiated with the Emperor Frederick and had made it possible for them to return to their own dominions; but I believe the strain she had suffered greatly impaired Matilda’s health. It was sad that her husband was not with her when she died. He had been with the Emperor in the Holy Land and had taken their eldest son, Henry, with him. Thus Matilda died with only Richenza, Lothair and William beside her. She was only thirty-three years old.

The messenger who brought me this terrible news tried to comfort me by telling me that she had been buried with great pomp and ceremony in the church of St. Blasius. As if that could console me! I was grief-stricken for the loss of my daughter as I could not be for my husband.

I went over the details of her childhood and our last meeting ... and my sorrow was great.

But there was no time for mourning. Richard was left to me, and my time must be dedicated to his needs.

I could not tarry in Winchester. I must go to London as soon as possible.

Before I left I summoned the Princess Alais to come to me. I think she was very frightened, fearing what would become of her now that the King was dead. She stood before me trembling.

She was a poor thing, really. She had so little spirit. That was what he had found comforting; she would always be ready to obey without question. I despised her, and I reminded myself that while I had been a prisoner she had been acting as Queen, taking my place.

The tables were turned now.

“Your position has changed considerably,” I said. “You must be wondering what will become of you.”

She looked blankly at me. I could see that she had been weeping.

“I, who was a prisoner here, am so no longer,” I went on. “The King treated me very badly, but that is over now. What are you going to do now that he is no longer here to protect you?” She looked at me piteously.

“You can’t expect Richard to marry you.”

“No,” she said quietly.

“No indeed. You could not expect the King of England to marry his father’s onetime mistress. Oh Alais, who would have believed that possible—and you the half-sister to the King of France!”

“Perhaps ... I should go home.”

“Do you think you would be welcome at your brother’s Court? You are no longer a marriageable princess. So many people know what you were doing with the late King. I ... his prisoner ... was aware of it. As you know, your lover kept me in captivity for sixteen years ... apart from that short period when he cheated me into going to Aquitaine to put my duchy at peace.”

“I ... I did know.”

“For what reason do you think?”

“Because you plotted with his sons against him.”

“That is what he told you, was it? His sons were against him because he tried to cheat them. He crowned Henry and then would give him nothing. They were all against him ... and he deserved it. Now, Princess Alais, you will remain in Winchester until I decide what shall become of you. We shall have to see whether your brother wishes to have soiled goods back in his Court.”

She shrank from me and I waved her away.

I gave orders that she was not to be allowed to leave Winchester. Then I went to London and summoned leading representatives of the Church and the nobility in order that they might swear fealty to the new King.

I stayed in London only for a few days, showing myself to the people as often as I could, smiling graciously and benignly, willing them to love me.

Then I decided to make a tour of the countryside. I wanted the people to welcome Richard as their King. They had been aware of the virtues of his father, which would have naturally increased in their eyes since his death. Henry had brought law and order to the country where there had been none, but recently the taxes he had imposed had alienated them, and I always believed that what they had resented more than anything were the stringent forestry laws.

William the Conqueror had been a great hunter; it was his main recreation; he had created forests and had had game placed there so that there would always be plenty of hunting grounds. Whenever he traveled around the country, the journey was broken by hunting trips. Most of his successors had been the same; hunting was their passion—and Henry had been no exception. He had added to the forest lands and made new ones. There had been strict laws. No one was allowed to deface trees; moreover, cutting them down was a major offense; no one must touch the game. In fact, the forest was sacrosanct.

Infringement of the laws brought dire penalties: a man could have his hands or feet cut off, his tongue cut out, his eyes gouged. The King’s forest must not be touched. There were wardens in the forests looking for offenders; even trespassers were thrown into prison, and they never knew whether they were going to be robbed of some vital part of their bodies.

I always thought that such laws should never have been. There was nothing like such to stir up strife, to underline the subservience kings expected of their people, and to arouse those bitter feelings which, when the opportunity arose, would come bursting forth.

I knew that the prisons were full of people awaiting condemnation. So I ordered that they should all be freed.

“Life will be different under King Richard,” I told the people. “He wishes all his subjects to be as happy serving him as he will be to serve them.”