The Battle of the Queens

Chapter VIII ROYAL BROTHERS AND SISTERS

It was rare that Henry and his brother and sisters were gathered together and this seemed to him a very special occasion. Richard, who was not quite two years younger than he was, had come to court from Corfe Castle where he was being brought up under the stern tutelage of Peter de Mauley, for Hubert de Burgh had said: ‘It is getting near the time when something must be done about your brother.’ Richard was at that time fourteen years of age. ‘For,’ went on Hubert, ‘if something is not done for princes they have a way of attempting to do something for themselves.’

Henry, who hung on Hubert’s words, agreed immediately that they must send for Richard and he duly arrived at court, where the two brothers confronted each other with a certain admiration and suspicion. Henry had acquired a regality since he had ascended the throne; as for Richard he had always been aware that he had been named after his uncle Coeur de Lion and as he had often been reminded of this he had developed a determination to be like that warlike hero. He naturally thought it was a pity that fate had been so unkind as to make him the second-born instead of the first, but the second son of a king was of great importance, so he was looking forward now to dispensing with the tiresomeness of childhood and coming out into the world to make his name.

Hubert had said to Henry: ‘In a year or so when your brother is sixteen, it will be necessary to knight him, and present him with land and titles. It is important for there to be complete amity between you. A good brother can be of inestimable value; a bad one, the greatest menace a king can know.’

Henry was remembering this as he received Richard and it was easier than he had believed, for Richard was delighted to be at court. The brothers had seen each other only once since the death of their father and that had been at the time of Henry’s coronation three years before. A boy grows up a great deal in three years and this was particularly so in the case of Henry.

They rode together and talked of the old days which Richard could not remember well, but Henry reminded him of how their mother had hastened him to be crowned with her throat-collar because there was no crown. That was why it had all to be done again in the proper manner four years later.

‘How strange,’ said Richard, ‘that our mother should have taken Joan to Lusignan and then married the man Joan was betrothed to.’

‘We don’t like it,’ said Henry importantly. ‘You see, Hubert and many of them think that if the King of France persuades Hugh de Lusignan to fight for him, our mother will be with her husband, not with us.’

‘Does Lusignan matter so much? He is only a count. We can fight him.’

‘He owns a great deal of land and is the overlord of many. Our father, you remember, thought it wise to marry Joan to him to secure his allegiance.’

‘Well, if we have secured it through our mother, what difference? Poor Joan. So she lost her husband.’

‘I found another for her, so what matters it?’ said Henry.

Richard looked at his brother with amusement. He found a husband for her. I’ll wager, thought Richard, he was told whom Joan should marry.

‘How likes Joan her new husband?’

‘You may ask her.’

‘She is coming here?’

‘She is on her way with her husband from Scotland, so you may ask her yourself. She must be content, for she has brought about an alliance between us and the Scots. And as Hubert married Alexander’s sister Margaret, we have very good relations with that country.’

‘It is said that Hubert de Burgh knows how to feather his own nest.’

‘Who says that?’ demanded Henry fiercely.

‘Oh, I have heard it said. And you must admit that marriage with the sister of the King of Scotland is somewhat higher than a … commoner should look.’

‘Pray do not speak of Hubert in that way. He is a great man. There is no one of more importance to me in the whole of my kingdom.’

‘Yes,’ said Richard, ‘that is what I have heard. The King is in leading strings to his Justiciar.’

Henry flushed scarlet. ‘Have done,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll not have such accusations made in my hearing.’

Oh, thought Richard, very much the King! He should have been the first-born. It was obvious.

‘If I were King,’ he said, ‘I would rather such things were said within my hearing than outside it.’

Henry hesitated. There was wisdom in that. It was galling, though, that his younger brother should have to point it out to him.

He changed the subject. ‘I have decided,’ he said, ‘that it would be good for you to make a pilgrimage. You have recently been in bad health and need perhaps a little humility and forgiveness of your sins.’

‘My ill health was due to the cold of Corfe … not to my sins.’

‘Are you so virtuous then, brother? This is what I wish to tell you. Alexander, your brother-in-law, is going to Canterbury to pray at the shrine of St Thomas, and I think it would be an excellent plan if you accompanied him.’

You think, was Richard’s inward comment. You mean Hubert de Burgh thinks.

But the idea was not displeasing to him.

He had spent too long away from affairs and it would be interesting to meet his brother-in-law.

It seemed strange to Joan to be back in the schoolroom in the Palace of Westminster. Two years had passed since her marriage with Alexander. She had then been eleven years old – a child in years but her stay at the castle of Lusignan had brought her abruptly out of childhood and had taught her the emotions of an adult.

She felt very experienced compared with her sisters: Isabella who was now nearly ten years old and Eleanor who was nine.

They had greeted her warily. Poor little girls, thought worldly-wise Joan. What did they know of life?

She had a husband of two years standing. Alexander. He was not unkind and he had made her a queen. He was twelve years older than she was, an experienced warrior at the time of their marriage; he had frightened her a little at first, with his rather sharp features and the tawny tinge in his eyes and hair. But she was beautiful, she knew; and seemed to grow more so when her mother was far away. Everyone commented on her charm and that pleased Alexander. He was glad too of the alliance with England which she represented.

When he found that she was intelligent he talked to her a little about state matters. He was a man who while he excelled in battle was yet a lover of peace, and he told her he wanted a prosperous Scotland and no country was prosperous in war, and though he would defend his boundaries with his life he preferred to make them safe through marriages such as theirs than through battle.

She could agree with him on this and as she had learned meekness at Lusignan she accepted her lot.

He was not Hugh, of course; and she supposed she would go on thinking of Hugh all her life. He would always live on, as an ideal of what one had failed to achieve sometimes did.

She did not want to think of her mother with Hugh. She had now become aware of what such a relationship meant, for she would be expected soon to provide Scotland with an heir. She was not too young for that; she had been sickened when she had heard that her mother had already given Hugh two children. She supposed in time she would get used to the idea. Often she pictured them together. Of course she had subconsciously known that there was something different about her mother when compared with other women. She would never forget the way in which Hugh’s eyes had followed her as she moved around and now that she knew the meaning of those smouldering looks which passed between them she understood a great deal. She would remain here while Alexander took the journey to Canterbury in the company of her brother Richard. She remembered Richard but vaguely. He had been more forceful than Henry, always trying to push himself forward and pretending that although he was the younger he was the more important.

Her sisters Isabella and Eleanor wanted her to tell them about Scotland. They looked at her with awe – their elder sister who was widely travelled. First she had gone miles away to Lusignan and then she had come back and had a marriage. This made her a very important person.

But Eleanor, the younger of her sisters, had a very special question to ask.

‘Tell us what it is like to be married,’ said Eleanor.

Joan was embarrassed. ‘My dear sister, you will discover soon enough.’

‘Very soon,’ said Eleanor. ‘Did you know, Joan, that I am going to be married ?’

‘When?’ cried Joan. ‘You are far too young.’

‘It is true, is it not, Isabella?’

Isabella nodded gravely. ‘I heard Margaret Biset talking about it.’

‘Margaret Biset had no right to talk before you,’ said Joan.

Isabella was quick to defend her nurse-governess. ‘But she did not know she was talking before me for I was hidden where she did not think to look for me.’

‘Eavesdropping. Oh Isabella!’

‘It is to be forgiven,’ retorted Eleanor, ‘when plans are made for us and we are not told for a long time.’

‘And what did you hear?’ asked Joan.

‘That someone called William Marshal is claiming me,’ said Eleanor.

‘She means he is going to marry her,’ said Isabella.

‘Why, you are not nine years old yet!’

‘He had another child wife, Margaret said,’ put in Isabella. ‘She said he must have a fancy for them.’

The two young girls giggled but Joan stopped them.

‘You are being foolish. Tell me all you know of this.’

‘It is just that William Marshal was promised Eleanor and is now claiming her. She will go away to him as you went to Lusignan. But you came back, did you not, Joan?’

Joan nodded.

‘But not for long. Then you went to Scotland.’

‘Your Hugh married our mother instead. He wouldn’t have been able to do that if our father had been alive,’ said Eleanor.

‘Of course he wouldn’t, you foolish girl,’ put in Isabella. ‘Do you remember him?’

Eleanor nodded. ‘He used to shout,’ she said, ‘and scream.’

‘Margaret said sometimes he fell on to the floor and chewed the rushes. It made him less angry doing that. I tried it when I was cross. But it didn’t make me less cross and the rushes were horrible.’

‘You chatter too much,’ said Joan severely, ‘and you must stop hiding yourselves so that you can hear what people say. It’s bad manners.’

‘It’s interesting,’ observed Isabella.

‘One day you might hear what you would rather not.’

‘I’d rather not have heard I have to go to William Marshal,’ admitted Eleanor fearfully.

‘Well if she has to go it’s best to know about it, is it not, Joan?’ asked Isabella.

‘Perhaps,’ said Joan.

Then she turned to Eleanor and saw herself as she had been what seemed like an age ago when she had heard she was to go to Lusignan, Had she looked as young and defenceless as Eleanor now looked? And Lusignan …. how beautiful it now seemed looking back. How she hated the harsh Scottish winter when the snow came quickly and stayed. She thought of the lush pine forests and riding with Hugh. Her mother had taken all that away from her because she was in a way a witch and made spells so that she was the most beautiful woman in the world and all men – even those betrothed to others – wanted to marry her.

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 with 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 rights. 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.

Henry was furious, but as Hubert pointed out, he could not go against Rome, for this could result in the dreaded Interdict, and everyone knew what disaster that could bring.

Henry must therefore bide his time. There would be opportunities in the future.

Meanwhile nothing had been heard of the Earl of Salisbury except that some time before he had sailed from France.

When Hubert considered the rich estates of Salisbury and that William Longsword had had a countess who could not be more than thirty-eight years old and who would now be a widow, he decided that it would be a good idea to bring the Salisbury fortune into his family.

He had a nephew, Reimund, who was looking for a suitable wife. What better, thought Hubert, than for Reimund to marry Ela, the Countess of Salisbury. She had brought rich estates to William Longsword. Why should she not bring them to Hubert’s nephew? The family would know how to take care of them.

He approached the King cautiously.

‘It is a sad matter about Longsword for he must now be reckoned as dead. Poor fellow, he was cruel and his sins must be great, but he was a great soldier and a valiant man.’

‘It is true,’ said Henry, ‘but like all bastards he was cursed with the need continually to proclaim his royalty.’

‘Well now he has died. He has left a widow.’

‘That’s true,’ said Henry, ‘and one who brought him great wealth.’

‘And not an old woman by any means. She cannot be more than thirty-eight and still capable of bearing children. She should have a husband.’

Henry nodded.

‘Er … my nephew, Reimund, is looking for a wife. He is a good steady fellow, ever loyal to his King. He would care for the Countess and look after her estates. How would you feel – if he should succeed in winning her – about giving your consent to the match?’

‘If she consented I would be willing enough,’ said Henry.

It was all Hubert needed. He lost no time in summoning his nephew and sending him off to begin his wooing.

If the Virgin Mary had saved the Earl of Salisbury from the sea that marked the end of her help for, although he and some of the survivors from the broken vessel were washed ashore, their refuge happened to be the Island of Ré which belonged to Louis.

They were, however, able to find shelter in the Abbey of the island and as they were in such a sorry state were not immediately recognised. They had come near to death and were in urgent need of rest and nourishment and this was afforded them.

But the Earl could not hope to remain unrecognised for any great length of time and in due course one of the monks realised who he was.

Being a man of religion the monk did not betray him because he knew that the Earl was as yet unfit to make another voyage. So the secret was kept while Salisbury made plans for escape.

More than three months had elapsed since he left the coast of France so it was logical to believe him to be dead; and when in time Salisbury had managed to procure a boat and returned to England a great shock awaited Hubert.

The Earl at once discovered what was happening. His wife being wooed, believing herself to be his widow. And her wooer was no other than a nephew of Hubert de Burgh!

Incensed, the Earl went straight to the King.

Henry declared himself delighted to see his uncle returned from the dead. ‘For,’ he said, ‘that is what we feared. It is so long since you set sail.’

‘It is a shock, my lord, to return and find my wife all but married to another man.’

‘My dear Longsword,’ replied Henry, ‘she is not an old woman and because of my nearness to you I wished to see her in good hands.’

‘And my estates?’ cried the Earl. ‘I doubt not that those good hands were held out greedily to receive them.’

‘My dear uncle, we had every cause to believe you dead. That you are not is a matter for rejoicing. I will send for Hubert and his nephew and they shall welcome you back and make their apologies to you, if you think they should. But, I do assure you, we acted in the good interest of your Countess.’

‘Then, my lord, I thank God – and the Blessed Virgin – that I was brought home in good time.’

The King kept his promise to send for Hubert and his nephew and in a few weeks there was a meeting between them and Longsword over which the King presided.

Longsword glared at Hubert and declared: ‘I understand well your motives, my lord.’

‘They grew from our concern for your Countess, my lord Earl,’ Hubert tried to assure him.

‘And for her estates I doubt not.’

‘My lord, I assure you that my nephew had a genuine affection for the lady. Is that not so, Reimund?’

‘It is indeed so, my lord.’

Longsword was purple with rage. ‘You dare stand there and tell me that you have an affection for my wife and would marry her.’

‘My lord …’ began Reimund, but Hubert cut him short:

‘My lord Salisbury,’ he said soothingly, ‘my nephew had an affection for a lady whom he believed to be a forlorn widow. Now that he knows her to be a wife his feelings have changed.’

‘He changes his feelings as men change a suit of mail,’ snarled Longsword.

The King intervened. ‘Uncle, I would have you make peace with Hubert. I believe his motives to be as he says and I find these quarrels irksome. You have had a miraculous escape. Methinks you should be thanking God that you have emerged from this disaster at sea and arrived home in time to save your wife from a marriage which would have been no marriage.’

Salisbury bowed his head. ‘What’s done is done,’ he murmured, ‘but I shall not forget …’

‘Now, Hubert,’ said Henry, ‘you shall invite him to a banquet and there all will see that you truly repent of your mistake and that my uncle understands full well how it came about.’

‘With all my heart,’ said Hubert and somewhat ungraciously the Earl of Salisbury accepted the invitation.

It was a very grand banquet. The King was present and the Earl of Salisbury sat on the left hand of Hubert de Burgh. They talked amicably together and all said that the unfortunate incident was over and it appeared to have brought these two men – who were not natural friends – together.

Salisbury was a great soldier. With the young Earl of Cornwall he had achieved victories in France and he had shown the people that the humiliating days of John’s reign were behind them. People had feared him in the past; he had been noted for the cruelties he carried out in the name of John; but a well governed country meant the return of law and order and with such a state of affairs Salisbury would dispense with his cruelty and be the good soldier ready to lead his country to more victories.

But when he reached Salisbury Castle, he was overcome by violent pains which were followed by a high fever and was forced to take to his bed, where his condition did not improve.

In a few days he was so weak that he feared his end was near.

‘Bring Bishop Poore to me,’ he said, ‘for I must confess my sins and receive the last rites.’

As he lay in bed awaiting the coming of the Bishop memories came back to him. He wondered how many men he had murdered in the name of King John … and not only in his name. He remembered the thrill of sacking a town and the needless suffering he had inflicted on its inhabitants – not because such conduct furthered the progress of the war but because he considered it good sport and enjoyed it.

Agonised faces haunted him from every corner of the room. He could hear the cries of mutilated people as they were deprived of feet, hands, noses, ears and their eyes were put out.

Any amount of candles to the Holy Virgin could not save him. He had to face the fact that he had led a wicked life.

He deserved to hang – the death of a common felon was not too good for him.

He should have been warned when he was shipwrecked. The Virgin had given him another chance but he had not taken it. He should have spent the last weeks in preparing for a crusade rather than furthering his quarrel with Hubert de Burgh over the Countess.

He rose from his bed and stripping off all garments but a loin cloth, he called for a rope which he put about his neck, so that when Richard le Poore, Bishop of Salisbury, arrived, he found him thus.

‘My lord,’ cried the Bishop, ‘what has happened to you?’

‘I am the worst of sinners. I fear eternal damnation.’

‘Oh, perhaps it is not as bad as that,’ replied the Bishop comfortably. ‘There is time for you to repent.’

‘I shall not rise from the floor until I have confessed my sins to you – as many as I can remember. I have been a traitor to God. I must receive the sacrament without delay.’

Before the Earl died, the Bishop did all that the Earl required of him and eased his conscience considerably.

Poison, was the verdict. Of course Hubert de Burgh poisoned him. It was at the banquet, for would he not know that his conduct over the Countess and his nephew would always be remembered? The Earl would be Hubert’s enemy for as long as he lived – and Hubert was a man who could not afford powerful enemies.

This suspicion was stored away in people’s memories to be brought out when required. There was no danger of its being forgotten. Men such as Peter des Roches would never allow that.

As for Hubert he realised that Reimund could scarcely go wooing the Countess of Salisbury after what had happened. She should be left well alone.

But his indefatigable efforts on his family’s behalf procured another rich widow for his nephew and shortly after the death of the Earl of Salisbury, Reimund married the widow of William Mandeville, the Earl of Essex, who brought as much to the family as the Countess of Salisbury would have done. Another nephew became Bishop of Norwich; and as his brother Geoffrey was already Bishop of Ely, Hubert could congratulate himself that he had his family well and strategically placed, which was what all ambitious men realised they must do.

His enemies continued watchful, but Hubert felt strong enough to defy them.