Виктория Холт - The Battle of the Queens

Nursing her young son, Blanche would brood on what was happening in Castile and was constantly on the alert for news.

She would sit with Amincia, the baby in his cradle beside them, while they stitched on beautiful garments for him. Amincia could do the most beautiful Spanish embroidery and this adorned many of the baby’s garments. Together they would remember long summer days in Castile where the troubadours had played their lutes and sung their love songs. Amincia had a pretty voice and would sing some of them, taking Blanche right back to those days. Sometimes Amincia called her Blanca which was yet another reminder.

The singing of troubadours was something she greatly missed in France, for although there was much music at the court, it was not as it had been in the courts of Southern France and Spain. There was more talk of war and what was happening in England and what was about to happen there and the part France would play in it.

There came to her notice a boy who must have been some ten years younger than herself. He was handsome, a poet with a beautiful voice. He was proud of his royal blood for he was the grandson of Marie, a daughter of Eleanor of Aquitaine and Louis VII. He had been one of those children who had played in the palace gardens and was under the patronage of the King’s household. He therefore considered himself as a member of the royal family and as such enjoyed certain concessions which meant a lapse of ceremony.

He was very attached to Blanche and many were amused by the young boy’s devotion. He had started to refer to her in the songs he wrote. It was all rather charming for he was such a handsome gracious boy.

So often he sat at the feet of Blanche while she with Amincia and others of her women stitched the garments they loved to make for little Louis. Young Philip often joined them; he was five years old, healthy and sturdy, the delight of the grandfather whose name he bore; and it was a very happy nursery over which Blanche presided.

The children, the satisfaction of the King, the harmonious relationship with Louis made up the happiness of that year. But sorrow was to come and was brought to her by messengers from Castile.

Her father had taken a turn for the worse. This time he had not been able to throw off the fever. He died in August when baby Louis was four months old.

Blanche shut herself away; she wanted to see no one. She was back in the past in that happiest of families where there was only the Saracen to threaten them. She remembered the occasions when her father had come home from the wars and what rejoicing there had been through the castle. She remembered the joy in her mother’s face and the warm glow which had wrapped itself around them all. She and her two elder sisters with their mother would be down in the courtyard to welcome him, and he would seize first their mother and cling to her as though he was never going to let her go. Their turn came next. Happy, happy days – far away but never to be forgotten and to be relived again and again throughout her life.

‘My mother will be quite desolate,’ she said. ‘The love between them was their life. She will be heart-broken. All her daughters have gone and there is no one. Louis, I must go to her.’

Dear kind understanding Louis, who always wanted to make her happy, said she must go at once. Would it help if he came with her? He understood the relationship between them for did he not enjoy a similiar one with his own dear wife?

They made preparations to depart but alas their journey was unnecessary. Two months after Alphonso of Castile had died, Eleanor followed him. They said that she died of a broken heart because she could not go on living without him.

It was discovered that they had left instructions that they were to be buried side by side and they chose the monastery of Las Huelgas which was one for which they had a particular fondness as they had founded it together.

Thus, said Blanche, they who were so close in life will not be parted in death.

The memory of them haunted her and even the happy nursery which contained her two fine boys, and the devotion of Louis, so like that her father had felt for her mother, could not entirely comfort her.

Although the situation across the Channel was growing more and more disruptive, there were troubles enough for the French. Philip’s dream of invading England was baulked by one encounter at Boulogne where the English fleet, which was superior to his, sunk and captured more than half his ships. This had proved so costly that Philip had been obliged to put off thought of another attack for a while. It was not as though the field was clear. There were other commitments in Flanders and Poitou.

He had been inclined to imagine himself facing unwise and reckless John; but there were men in England who would remain loyal to the crown however worthless the wearer of it. Two such as these were William Marshal and Hubert de Burgh, and while such men worked for John his defeat would not be an easy matter.

But it was not long before the position changed.

The Barons of England had risen against John and had forced him to sign a charter at Runnymede, which restored rights to his people and mitigated the pernicious forest laws. There were sixty-three clauses, all designed to curb the power of the King and respect the rights of the people of England.

It was not difficult to imagine with what reluctance John had signed such a charter and how insecure his position must be for him to agree to do so; but it was hardly to be expected that he would not try to break his word, for more than a charter would be needed to make him mend his ways and behave with wisdom and justice. Even so Philip had not expected the English barons to play so completely into his hands. When the messengers came to him and told him what was in their minds he could scarcely believe him.

He sent at once for Blanche and Louis, for this was going to be of the utmost concern to them.

When they came he dismissed everyone that he might talk to them in the utmost secrecy.

‘There is a most unexpected turn of events,’ he said. ‘You know how matters are in England. John cannot keep the crown much longer.’

‘But now that he has signed the charter,’ began Louis, ‘the barons will keep him in order.’

‘It is not possible to keep such a man in order. He is rapacious, sly, untrustworthy and reckless. He has every quality to make him a bad and evil ruler and nothing will ever eradicate one of them. The barons know it. That is why they have made this extraordinary suggestion.’ Phillip looked at Blanche. ‘You have a claim to the throne, my dear, and Louis has through you. The English barons are offering you the crown of England if you will go and take it.’

‘Impossible!’ cried Louis.

‘Nay, my son, when you go you will be warmly welcomed. The barons want you there … they want a strong ruler who will rid them of John.’

‘Louis to go to England!’ cried Blanche aghast.

‘It is Louis who must go,’ said Philip firmly. ‘He will claim your inheritance and with you rule England. Who would have believed it possible that there should be a strong contingent of men in England who would actually welcome you to their shores?’

‘Could it be some trick?’ said Blanche anxiously.

‘I am assured it is not. These men are at war with their own king. They will have no more of him. They believe that the only way to make the country strong and bring about a return to law and order is to offer the crown to the next in succession.’

‘But there is a son,’ said Louis.

‘A child!’ retorted Philip. ‘Imagine. John deposed. A minor on the throne. Would that solve anything? No, the majority of the English Barons want John out of the way and this is the way they choose to do it. Do not look so puzzled. It is a wise decision. Almost the whole of their possessions in France have now been lost to them, and many of these barons see the possibility of the return of their castles and lands. It may well be a concession they will ask and we shall grant it. We want peace between our two countries – one ruler for both. What could be better? And we shall achieve little by harsh treatment of those who have made the way easy for us. They know this. They know my rule. They know you, Louis. They compare us with John and they are inviting us to rule them.’

After they had left the King, Louis and Blanche discussed the matter together. It made Blanche uneasy.

‘I like it not that you should be the one to go,’ she told him. ‘Would it not be wiser for your father to lead the forces?’

Louis shook his head. ‘Nay,’ he said. This crown comes to us through you. I am your husband. I shall be the King of England, you the Queen. My father is right when he decrees that I shall be the one to go.’

* * *

In the early part of the year 1216 Louis sailed across the Channel and marched on London, in which city he received the homage of those barons who were eager to displace John.

As it was natural that John, with a few who had remained loyal to him – among them those worthy men William Marshal and Hubert de Burgh – should not give way meekly, Louis had to expect resistance and it came. But the more towns he took the more people were ready to accept him. John was antagonising the entire country through his cruel manner of taking what he wanted from the towns through which he passed and showing no respect for the religious houses. Misfortune dogged him. Crossing the Wash his baggage, including his jewels, were lost; and coming to Sleaford he died somewhat mysteriously. Some said he had been poisoned by a monk from Swineshead Abbey, where he had stayed for a few nights, and where he had seen a nun whom he had attempted to ravish. Sickness, lassitude and the ingenuity of the monks had saved the nun, but afterwards John had died through eating fruit which it was suspected was poisoned.