The Heart of the Lion

Chapter XVI THE RETURN OF ELEANOR

Meanwhile Philip had returned to France. He had done the wise thing in coming back, he was well aware, but it was necessary to justify himself and he lost no time in doing so.

He smiled cynically as he ruminated on the new state of affairs. How fickle were human relationships, particularly it seemed such as those which had existed between himself and Richard! He had loved Richard passionately when they were young and Richard had been his hostage; now all sorts of emotions had mingled to change that love into hatred. His feeling for Richard was as strong as it had ever been and always would be. Richard obsessed him. He kept going over in his mind how Richard had allied himself with Tancred. How he had been bemused – as Philip expressed it – by Saladin. Wherever Richard was there was drama and excitement and when he was absent life became less colourful. There was an aura about the King of England which attracted not only the King of France but everyone who came into contact with him. It seemed one must either hate him or love him.

How could the King of France love the King of England? It had been different when Richard had been a Prince; they had not met on the same footing then and Philip, less handsome, less spectacular had been in the superior position. Now they were equals in power.

Philip had realised the state of his feelings when he had had an audience with the Pope on his way home. He had had to make excuses for his defection and he had been surprised by the vituperative storms of abuse which flowed from him.

Pope Celestine had been somewhat taken aback.

‘Holy Father,’ Philip had said, ‘it was imperative that I return. If I had not I should have died. I was so beset by fever that my hair fell out and my nails flaked off. I was delirious and a burden to my men. I could not lead them.’

‘I believe, my son,’ the Pope had replied, ‘that the King of England was similarly afflicted.’

‘His was a recurrent fever. It comes and passes. It was different with him.’

‘And you wished to return to the comforts of your court?’

‘I had my duties to my crown. My son is but a child. There could have been civil war in France had I died.’

‘The King of England is without an heir.’

This harping on the King of England had maddened Philip. Wherever he went there was no escape from Richard. Was he going to be haunted by him for the rest of his days?

He had cried out: ‘It is partly because of Richard that I found it necessary to go. His arrogance was causing strife throughout the armies. Leopold of Austria will bear me out and so will the Duke of Burgundy. Even the men were disgusted by his recklessness and extravagance. His severity to the men was without parallel.’

Philip had stopped suddenly. Celestine was looking at him with astonishment. Philip muttered: ‘I had to return because I have sworn an oath to protect my kingdom.’

‘Let us not forget,’ replied the Pope, ‘that this recklessness of the King of England may have been one of the reasons why Acre is now in the hands of the Christians and that we are a step nearer towards the Holy City.’

Philip bowed his head. He was glad when the audience was over. He knew he had not made a very good impression on the Pope. Richard seemed to cast his spell over everyone.

And he had returned home, brooding.

There was no need to justify his return in France. His ministers made it clear that he had acted wisely in coming back; and as some of them pointed out it was not a bad thing for the King of France to be in his dominions when the King of England was far from his.

He was warmly welcomed in Paris. Not that he had come back covered in glory. It would have been wonderful if he could have returned as the man who had brought Jerusalem back to Christians. Instead of that he must be content with the conquest of Acre, which he had achieved with Richard, who was certain to get the greater share of the glory.

The Cardinal of Champagne who had been regent in his absence assured him when they were alone that it was time he came back. He had shown his piety by going to the Holy Land; now France claimed his attention. Little Prince Louis was so young and with the King far from home there were certain to be those ambitious men who would seek to govern a child and rule a country.

Even to the Cardinal Philip must make his excuses.

‘I was close to death,’ he said, ‘and Richard was not to be trusted.’

His conscience smote him then. Richard might be arrogant, reckless, cruel ... but untrustworthy, never. Hadn’t he teased him about his forthrightness, his lack of cunning?

‘An uneasy situation,’ agreed the Cardinal. ‘The King of France can never be on terms of real amity with the kings of England while they hold Normandy.’

‘He arranged the murder of Montferrat hoping that his man Guy de Lusignan might be King of Palestine, and then let it be rumoured that the Old Man of the Mountains was responsible.’

‘But Henry of Champagne now holds that post.’

‘’Tis so, for Richard was able to give his favourite Cyprus. He has a great fancy for this Guy,’ he added bitterly.

‘Suffice it, Sire, that you are back in France and with the King of England far away opportunities might arise.’

‘By God,’ cried Philip, ‘I would seize those opportunities.’

‘They are at hand, my lord.’

‘Is that so?’

‘We learn that John has his eyes on the throne.’

‘John! I was led to believe that his thoughts were all for extravagance and sporting with women.’

‘He still has time to dream of a crown. There is conflict between him and Longchamp.’

‘He’s a clever fellow, this Longchamp. I hear he rose from very humble beginnings to be virtually King of England.’

‘’Tis so, but his birth goes against him. He is not accepted by the people. He is ill-favoured – short of stature and malformed. Not a figure to win the acclaim of the people. Moreover he is a Norman and they prefer to be ruled by an Englishman. John is making much of the situation and particularly so since Richard made his compact with Tancred.

Philip’s face darkened. He remembered well his jealousy of Tancred and Richard. Richard had spent some time in Tancred’s castle and there they had made plans together.

‘Richard has offered Prince Arthur of Brittany to Tancred’s daughter and that means Arthur is heir to the throne of England – if Richard dies without issue, that is.’

‘Which is likely,’ said Philip smiling slowly. ‘He scarcely lived with Berengaria.’

‘Being most of the time with his army, I’ll swear.’

‘There were times when he could have had her with him, but he did not. He is not over fond of the company of women.’

‘He must realise it is necessary for him to get an heir.’

‘’Tis my belief that the matter is distasteful to him and therefore he consoles himself with the fact that Arthur can follow him. There is also John.’

‘It seems strange for a King to name another man’s son as heir when he is of the age to beget sons himself.’

‘But in a position to meet sudden death.’

‘All the more reason why he should spend much time with his wife.’

‘Ah, Richard is no ordinary man. What of this conflict between Longchamp and John?’

‘John wants Longchamp out of the country. It’s easy to see what he is after. He wants the throne. It would be good for France if he were to take it. He is weak; he is no soldier; I hear that his rages are terrible. With such a King on the throne of England ... who knows what good could come to France?’

‘You are suggesting that I should form an alliance with John ... against Richard?’

‘It would be the greatest good fortune for France. You could send for John. Offer him help in securing the crown. Why, Sire, trouble in England ... in Normandy ... is that not exactly what we have been praying for?’

Oh Richard, thought Philip, my love, my friend, I hate you now. John will take your kingdom from you. You will do your noble deeds in the Holy Land or perhaps meet your end. And it may be that one day you will come to me supplicating, humble, as it was when you were a hostage Prince and you and I were together as we have never been since.

‘There is your sister the Princess Alice,’ said the Cardinal.

‘Richard has treated her shamefully,’ cried Philip.

‘She is no longer young. It is an insult that Richard should put her aside that he might marry Berengaria although he had been betrothed to her in his youth.’

‘We came to an agreement that this should be,’ said Philip.

‘It does not alter the fact that a Princess of France was slighted. Why should she not even now be the Queen of England?’

‘How could she be that?’

‘If John were King and she married him.’

‘John is already married to Hadwisa of Gloucester.’

‘There is a blood tie. The Pope has never given them a dispensation. To set her aside would present no difficulty.’

Philip clasped his hands together. ‘It is a project which gives me great amusement.’

‘’Twould give more than that, Sire, were it to bear fruit. Richard deposed by John! We could do anything with John. In due course we could bring Normandy back to the French crown. Who knows we might even make England a vassal of France.’

‘I can scarcely wait. I shall send messengers to John without delay.’

Philip was excited. Richard could still dominate his life even when they were far apart.

John, in his castle of Lancaster, received the messengers from the King of France. When he heard what they had to say he was amazed and delighted.

The King of France was offering to be his ally. Glittering prospects stretched out ahead of him.

He sent at once for Hugh Nunant, the Bishop of Coventry, who, having received no favours from Richard, was eager to see John on the throne. Hugh looked for great advancement should this event come about and he was as excited as John.

‘With Philip on your side,’ he declared, ‘you cannot fail. This is a Heaven-sent opportunity. Richard must have offended Philip mightily to bring about this happy state of affairs.’

‘Such friends can become enemies and then the enmity between them exceeds the love they once had for each other. Philip hates Richard now and longs to bring about his downfall.’

‘Would you accept Alice?’

‘Yes, I would.’

‘She is no longer young.’

‘There will be young girls to comfort me for that I doubt not.’

‘I doubt it not either,’ laughed Hugh. ‘But she was your father’s mistress remember.’

‘He had a great fondness for her. She must have been a worthy mistress to satisfy him. There was never a more lusty man than my father.’

‘She was young then.’

‘What care I! She is still the sister of the King of France.’

‘And bore him a child.’

‘Then she is fertile.’

‘Was fertile.’

‘Oh come, what is the marriage for but for the sake of Philip’s favour?’

‘It will be one of his conditions.’

‘And I’ll rid myself of my whimpering Hadwisa. That will not grieve me, as long as I keep a tight grip on her lands.’

‘We will arrange for that. And since you see the advantages that are being offered, it would seem we should set out for France without delay. Normandy will be yours and you will swear fealty to Philip. Do that and then I doubt not you can talk with him of how best to acquire the throne of England.’

‘Imagine Richard’s fury when he hears what is happening.’

‘It will madden him so much that he will doubtless return home.’

‘If he is not drowned on the way which I must confess would save a great deal of trouble. No matter. We will be ready for him. I will prepare to leave for France.’

Just at that time Queen Eleanor arrived back in England.

Having come, she was filled with misgiving. She had worked so hard to see her beloved son Richard King of England; in fact the greatest differences with her husband, which had resulted in those years of captivity, were in some measure due to him; and now that he had the crown he had left it for this romantic adventure abroad.

Thank God for allowing her to return safely; she dreaded to think what might have been happening during her and Richard’s absence. At least, now that she was here she could do her best to hold the kingdom loyal to him. But during her journey she had often thought how unwise it was to leave it, particularly as he had so recently attained it. She had hinted this much to him but she had quickly seen that it was impossible to turn him from his purpose. The lives of most people were strewn with unwise actions and looking back one could see what effect they had had on events. But being old at least one acquired a certain wisdom and sometimes she thought that acquisition was worth all the high adventures and excitements of youth.

A terrible doubt had come to her in that she had acted unwisely in advising Richard to allow his brother John and his half-brother Geoffrey to return to England. She loved her son John. She was after all a mother and he was her youngest and her inordinate love for Richard did not prevent her caring for her other children. John would be contented, she tried to soothe herself. Richard had been generous and John was rich, for his marriage with Hadwisa of Gloucester had brought him rich lands. He would not make trouble. She knew him well. Pleasure loving he most certainly was but could she blame him for that? When she had been his age what a glutton she had been for excitement. It was said that John was a profligate, that he indulged in lascivious orgies, that no woman was safe from him. She could not expect a son of hers to live like a monk and because she was saddened by rifts in the family she had persuaded Richard to give him permission to come back to England if he wanted to.

Did he want to? He had come immediately.

Now she wondered what was happening and after she had been ceremoniously received in London she travelled to Winchester and asked William de Longchamp and the Archbishop of Rouen to meet her there.

The Archbishop came. Where, she wanted to know, was Longchamp? She believed there had been some trouble between him and Prince John.

The Archbishop explained that there had indeed been great trouble, that Longchamp had been guilty of indiscretion in arresting the Archbishop of York and quarrelling with Prince John.

Eleanor was alarmed.

‘What was Prince John’s grievance?’

‘That Longchamp had asked the King of Scotland to support Prince Arthur as heir to the throne, for news had reached us that the King had made an agreement with Tancred and had given Prince Arthur to Tancred’s daughter.

There was a great deal of news which Eleanor had yet to learn. She asked the Archbishop to let her know at once all that had happened while she was making the journey home.

What she heard gave her no comfort. She saw that her worse fears had some foundation. John was too mischievous not to try to make trouble during his brother’s absence. Oh yes, indeed it had been a mistake to allow him to come back to England. Her only consolation was that had he not come he would have attempted to make trouble in Normandy.

When she heard that the King of France had invited John to visit him she realised how deep was the danger.

‘My lord Archbishop,’ she said, ‘my son John must not go to France.’

‘I agree, my lady,’ was the answer, ‘but how can we prevent him?’

Eleanor’s eyes flashed. The old vitality was still with her.

‘Know this,’ she said, ‘that my youngest son would wrest the crown from his brother. It seems to him a heaven-sent opportunity with Richard away. There is only one king of this country while Richard lives and that is Richard. We must take firm action.’

‘He is due to embark next week,’ said the Archbishop. ‘I have made myself aware of his movements.’

‘It would seem,’ said Eleanor, ‘that I have come home just in time.’

‘What do you propose to do, my lady?’

‘We will travel with all speed to Southampton. Let us take with us William the Marshal and Hugh of Lincoln. These men and ourselves will convey to the Prince that he must take note of what we say. I myself will speak to him and let him know that if he attempts to make terms with the King of France he will lose everything he possesses in England.’

‘Can you make him accept this, my lady?’

‘You will see,’ she answered.

As he came into Southampton John was surprised to be met by members of his mother’s household.

The Queen wished to see him, he was told, and would he go to her with all speed.

John grumbled that he was on the point of departure but he could not, of course, refuse to see his mother.

When he came into her apartments she greeted him with affection.

‘It is good to be in England with my son,’ she said, her eyes watchful.

‘Indeed yes, Mother. It has been an anxious time. I dared not think how you might be faring on the seas.’

‘Travel is perilous,’ she said. ‘I fear for the King.’

She could not fail to see the cunning lights in John’s eyes. He was hopeful, she thought ruefully. It was indeed fortunate that she had come home in time.

‘He has conquered Acre,’ said John. ‘Doubtless by this time he is setting the Christian flag over Jerusalem.’

‘I pray God that he has done that and is on the way home. The kingdom misses him.’

‘’Tis true,’ said John smiling wryly.

‘There are always those who would take advantage of a sovereign’s absence. It is good fortune indeed that I am here to watch over Richard’s rights.’

John nodded.

‘Never forget, John, that Richard is strong. It would go hard with any who sought to take advantage of his absence.’

‘He would be a brave man who dared do that,’ said John blithely.

‘Nay, only a foolish one.’

‘How so?’

‘Because when Richard returned he would have to answer to him.’

‘What if Richard did not return?’

‘That is a matter I will not consider.’

‘Then you should, my lady, for the chances are that he never will.’

‘Is that why you plan to see the King of France?’

‘What mean you?’

‘Philip has invited you, I believe.’

‘We are his vassals for Normandy.’

‘We. The King holds Normandy under the King of France it is true but he stands his equal as King of England. Philip has made propositions to you, has he? He has promised you great glory if you will be his tool. That is so. He will give you Normandy? Make you its Duke? Is that what he has promised? Let me tell you this, John, he has no power to do that. The dukes of Normandy are the rightful heirs of Normandy and there is already a Duke. He is Richard your King and your brother.’

‘Who cares more for fighting the Saracen than holding his throne.’

‘Because he has made a holy vow, because he is a soldier of the Cross, that does not mean he is not a great King.’

‘Of a country he has scarcely seen?’

‘What have you in your mind, John? To take it from him? Is that why you go to France? He has made you rich here, given you great lands; he has allowed you to marry into Gloucester although there is consanguinity there. He has given you a great deal and you would play the traitor to him. You will not go to France.’

John’s temper was rising.

‘Madam, I am merely waiting on the wind.’

‘Very well, go to France. Play traitor to your brother with the man who once was his friend. See how he will treat you. Remember this, though, as soon as you set sail for France all your lands in England will be confiscated and held under the crown.’

‘Who would dare do this?’

‘I would dare, John. I am your mother and during the King’s absence I rule this land. If you wish to hold what you have in this country then stay here, and keep what you have intact, for with God’s help I will strip you of every possession you have if you dare conspire with your brother’s enemies against him.’

She left him then. John bit his lips and foamed with anger. He would show her who was master. He had men to follow him. He was going to set sail for France. He was going to see Philip, work with Philip, and together they would rob Richard of his crown.

But to lose everything in England! She meant it, and she could do it. Suppose he lost everything in England – and Normandy not in his grasp! Could he trust the King of France who had been so friendly with Richard but recently?

His schemes were crumbling. How could he take the risk?

He gave way to temper. He tore at his clothes; he lay on the floor and kicked. He gnawed the rushes as his father used to do in his outburst of fury.

No one dared approach him.

John and his mother were on uneasy terms. She had shown so clearly whose side she was on; and responsible men of the country ranged themselves beside her.

Several months passed and there came news that the King was sailing for home. John was angry and frustrated. Richard had not after all captured Jerusalem; this crusade had achieved the capture of Acre and three years’ truce – not much for all the expense that had been incurred, pointed out John; but few listened to him. The King was coming home. It was not the time to range themselves about his young brother. John might talk of the perilousness of journeys, but no one listened.

Christmas came. Some pilgrims arrived in the country, with the news that they had seen the King’s ship at Brindisi but that Richard was not there.

Speculation was rife. Where was the King? What would the next news be? John’s hopes were high. It was time the King returned. If the pilgrims were in England so should he be.

‘He has met some disaster,’ he said to Hugh Nunant. ‘Depend upon it.’

‘Alas, we must depend on nothing,’ answered Hugh. ‘We must walk very carefully now that your mother is here.’

‘Richard was always her favourite,’ said John sulkily. But he was full of hope. He was sure Richard was dead.

Messengers came to him from the King of France. The news they brought was startling. Philip enclosed the copy of a letter he had received from the Emperor of Germany. King Richard of England was his prisoner, ran the letter; he was to be held for ransom. The whereabouts of his prison was unknown but it was somewhere in the Emperor’s territory.

It was impossible to keep such news to himself. Moreover travellers coming into England reported that they had heard of the King’s capture.

Eleanor was in despair. She conferred with the Archbishop of Rouen. She raved against the injustice done to the man who had done more for Christendom than any other living at the time. He had sacrificed a great deal, he had placed his kingdom in jeopardy for the sake of the Holy War, and what had happened to him, he was imprisoned, not by a Saracen, which would have been understandable, but by those who should have been his friends.

She was desperate. She prayed that God might overlook the wickedness of her youth and not visit her sins on her innocent sons. She spent hours on her knees calling to the virgin. ‘Mother of Mercies, help a miserable mother.’ But she was not of a nature to rely on prayer alone.

First she considered going in search of him; then the possibility of what might happen in her absence if she did deterred her from this action. She must stay here. When he was released there must be a kingdom for him to govern.

But what could she do? Would the Pope help? He could demand Richard’s release immediately if he wished. But why should he go against the wishes of powerful Henry?

She was desperate and uncertain and as she passed one of the rooms she heard the mournful strumming of a lute.

She looked inside to see who was there and saw Blondel de Nesle, one of Richard’s favourite minstrels. He was seated on a stool and as he played a sorrowful dirge the tears ran down his cheeks.

‘What ails you?’ asked Eleanor.

‘My lord’s absence, my lady.’

‘I believe you were a favourite of his. He loved you dearly.’

‘’Twas so, my lady. I would have fain stayed with him and begged to do so, but he wouldn’t have it and sent me here.’

‘Do not weep, pretty boy. He will return.’

When she had left him Blondel continued to weep.

He must return, he said to himself, or I shall die.