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.