Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude (25 page)

He could not make up his mind but it was not long before it was made up for him. His enemies in Normandy were attempting to take advantage of his absence. His mother wrote to him that she thought it wise for him to return. It was April when he arrived in Normandy. What joy there was in his reunion with Eleonore. This was a little tempered by a certain anxiety which the baby was arousing. He was not as lusty as they had at first hoped he would be.

There was plenty to occupy him while Eleonore cared for the little boy and it was not long before he had settled the uprisings. He took a troop of soldiers around his entire dominions and made it clear that he expected and would have obedience.

Matilda wanted to know what had happened during the parley with Stephen, and she listened intently while he told her how friendly Stephen had been to him and so anxious for peace was he that he had been ready to pass over his son William for the sake of it.

Matilda nodded. ‘He is an old man, I believe, now.’

‘He carries himself well and has a pleasant countenance,’ answered Henry.

‘He always had,’ said Matilda. ‘He knew how to charm people. I used to mock him for it. When he was young he would go out of his way to please people who could never bring any good to him. I used to say he was practising so that it would seem natural to those who could bring him good.’

‘One could not help but like him,’ said Henry, ‘and he was very eager to be pleasant to me.’

Matilda nodded, and was quite lost in memories of the days when she and Stephen had been more than mere cousins.

They talked of the troubles in the country.

‘There is Geoffrey,’ said Matilda. ‘He will not be content.’

‘I know it, Mother.’

‘He was furious when your father left almost everything to you and nothing but three castles to him. True, your father’s wish was that when you gained England you should give Anjou and Maine to him.’

‘I doubt he would be worthy of them,’ said Henry.

Matilda laughed. ‘You like not to part with any of your possessions. You are like my father. They say my grandfather was the same. You remind me of them, Henry.’

‘There are no two rulers whom it would please me to resemble more.’

With Eleonore there had been a return to their passion. She had missed him sorely she told him. ‘I devoted myself to our child and awaited your return.’

‘I longed for you as you longed for me,’ answered Henry, and thought briefly of Avice of whom he had tired and of Hikenai who had amused him. When they went to England he would have to bring her boy to court. He wondered what Eleonore would say to that. Would she calculate the date of his birth and know that he had been unfaithful during this early stage of their marriage? Oh, but she would understand. Had she been there it would never have happened.

Eleonore was pregnant again. This delighted them both. Little William was so delicate, they both feared that they might lose him. If they could get another son - a healthy one - they could better bear losing their first-born. When Henry thought of his lusty little bastards he asked himself, as many kings had before, why it was that the illegitimate offspring were so healthy and the legitimate ones so frail.

It was fortunate that they were enjoying a period of comparative peace when the messenger arrived from England.

One of Eleonore’s women had seen the approach of a rider from a turret window and hastened to inform her mistress, who looking out saw that the man was riding fast even though his horse seemed exhausted.

‘It is important news,’ she cried. ‘Go and tell the Duke.’

She was in the courtyard when Henry joined her there and they were both waiting when the messenger rode into the courtyard.

‘I come from the Archbishop of Canterbury, my lord,’ he said. ‘He begs the Duke of Normandy ride with all speed to England. King Stephen is dead. Long live King Henry.’

It was fortunate, said Matilda, that she was in the castle.

‘My hopes have been realised,’ she said. ‘And to think it had to come about through Stephen’s death. My son, we must talk at once … the three of us. It is very important that you take the right action now.’

In the private chamber of Henry and Eleonore they sat with the Empress. Henry listened intently to what she had to say. The fact that she had once had the crown within her grasp and lost it made Henry regard her advice with great respect. She was experienced; she knew the English; she had offended them in a manner he must never do. If she could live her life again she would not make the same mistakes. Therefore he must profit from her experience. It was wonderful to have these two people with him. Caught up as he was in the midst of family jealousies yet there were two whom he could trust absolutely … his wife and his mother.

He took their hands and kissed them fervently. He wanted them to know how much he relied on them. They both knew it and loved him the more because of it.

‘There should be no delay,’ said Eleonore. ‘Stephen is dead. There may be some who would want to set up his young son William on the throne.’

‘I thank God Leicester is my man,’ said Henry. ‘And you are right. I am determined to leave for England without delay.’

‘When you go,’ said Matilda, ‘you must take a company with you. It would be folly to go with too small a following.’

‘I have already summoned my leading nobles to assemble at Barfleur preparatory to sailing for England. They are eager to come, seeing rich lands and titles awaiting them. There must be no delay.’

‘No more than can be helped,’ said Matilda. ‘Eleonore must go with you.’

‘I intend to,’ said Eleonore.

‘And you should be crowned, the pair of you, as soon as it can be arranged. A king is not a King of England until he has been crowned. I was the Queen … the true Queen but my enemies in London drove me out. If I had been crowned first … It is all over. But remember it.’

‘I shall see that the coronation takes place immediately.’

‘And your brothers. What of Geoffrey and William? What do you think they will be at while you are in England?’

‘Mischief,’ said Henry grimly.

‘And it will be necessary for you to stay there. You cannot accept the crown and run away. You will have to show the English that England is of more moment to you than Normandy. And meanwhile Geoffrey will remember his father’s will. Was he not to have Anjou and Maine when you had England?’

‘He would lose it to Louis … or someone. You know Geoffrey could never hold anything.’

”Tis true. And you are loath to take your hands off it. You must keep it, my son. And the only way to do this is to take your brothers with you. Make them work for you. Promise them lands … over there. But take them with you so that they cannot brew michief here.’

‘By God, you are right,’ said Henry. ‘I shall send for them and as soon as the wind is favourable we sail.’

‘It is a good thing that he did not wait a month or two before dying,’ said Eleonore lightly. ‘Or I might have been too advanced in my pregnancy to enjoy a sea trip.’

Henry was impatient to go. He hated delays. In a short time all who were to make the journey - including his brothers - were assembled at Barfleur. But if he could command his subjects Henry could not command the winds.

How tiresome was the weather! Stormy day followed stormy day. It was impossible to set sail in such weather.

Four weeks passed and then one day the seas were calm, the weather perfect.

And so Henry set sail for England.

However, the crossing was rough and it was impossible for the convoy to keep together. The ship in which Henry and Eleonore travelled landed near Southampton with a few others, but in a short time, to Henry’s relief, it was discovered that all had landed safely and it would only be a matter of a few hours before everyone was accounted for.

They were not far from Winchester, and as that was the home of the country’s treasure Henry decided to make for that city.

As he approached it, news of his arrival had spread, and the chief nobles of the neighbourhood came forward to greet him and give him their allegiance.

It was a triumphant entry into the city of Winchester. Remembering the oft-told account of his mother’s brief successes Henry realised that he must have the recognition of the people of London, that city which because of its trade and riches had become the chief of England.

He therefore determined to leave for London without delay.

The bleak December weather was not to Eleonore’s liking as she and Henry set out with their retinue for the great city. She had, it was true, grown a little accustomed to it in Paris which she had always felt so cold after her own Languedoc; but this was equally chilly and she reminded herself that it was winter and not the best time to see the place. Of course there were compensations. A crown, a country which was bigger and richer and held more prospects of power and riches than that of France. It ill-behoved her at such a prospect to object to the weather.

News of their arrival had spread over the South of England and people came from their homes to cheer the new King. They promised themselves that gone were the times when people lived in terror of robbers and murderers on the highway because of the weak rule of King Stephen. Their grandparents remembered the days of King Henry I when such stern punishment was meted out that offenders were deterred from their crimes for fear of losing their hands, feet, ears, noses, or even having their eyes put out. That had made life safe for law-abiding people. During Stephen’s reign many wicked barons had built castles with the sole purpose of using them as strongholds from which they might conduct their wicked plans to rob travellers and often take them to their castles to torture for their sport. That was a return of an old evil which those strong kings William the Conqueror and Henry I had put down. With the return of amiable Stephen they had begun to come back. Stephen had hated to punish offenders. If they were brought to him he would say: ‘Let it pass this time. Don’t do it again.’

So in this young man they saw new hope. He was the grandson of just Henry I and in direct line of succession. As long as he did not take after his mother Matilda but after his grandfather Henry they would welcome him wherever he went.

They had heard that he did and that when he was in England he had been admired and respected by those who had met him; everywhere there was great hope that he would bring back to England that law and order which had been instituted by the Conqueror.

He rode with his wife, one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. A special cheer for her then. And how graciously she responded! They had never seen such grace and poise. She wore a wimple over which was a circlet of sparkling diamonds, rubies and sapphires. Her gown was fastened at the throat by a collar of jewels similar to those in the circlet. The sleeves of this were long and tight to her wrists and over this she wore a cloak which was lined with ermine, long and wide so that the tight sleeves of her gown were visible. The English had never seen such elegance and they applauded it.

Now there would be an end to senseless civil war. They would have a just king and a beautiful queen; there would be royal children, for there was already a son and the Queen was noticeably pregnant. They knew that this Queen had been the Queen of France and had divorced the king of that country to marry their Henry.

They liked her for it. It was always pleasant to score over the French. They had already adopted Henry as an Englishman. Was he not the grandson of their own Henry I, son of the Conqueror, born in England, educated there, and who never failed to proclaim himself an Englishman?

There had been rumours about the life the Queen had led on a holy crusade. It amused them that she had played false the King of France.

So the people of England were very ready to welcome their new King and Queen.

Into London they rode, there to be met by Theobald, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the chief nobles. There was no doubt of the people’s enthusiasm. Henry made himself affable, as did Eleonore. Never for one moment did he forget the disastrous impression his mother had made on the Londoners and how this had cost her the crown.