“You have your son Henry,” I reminded her.

“Yes, we are close, my son and I. I want for him all that I have missed.”

“And it seems he is going to get it.”

“I have never doubted that he would succeed. He is made for distinction.”

We could agree on that.

“Tell me of your marriage to Geoffrey of Anjou,” I said.

Her face hardened. “How I hated him! And he hated me, too. How different he was from my Emperor. I thought I should be loved in England as I had been in Germany. My father made the barons swear fealty to me. He was afraid, of course, that as I was a woman there might be a dispute about my taking the throne when he was gone.”

“And he was right.”

“I was furious when he married me to Geoffrey of Anjou.”

“Could you not have refused?”

“You did not know my father.” A gleam of admiration came into her eyes. “He was quite different from Stephen. That is why Stephen shows up as such a weakling. There was nothing weak about King Henry. He was determined to have a law-abiding country and he had one. He made stern rules. He had to, after Rufus who was no good at all and undid a good deal of the work which his father, the Conqueror, had set in motion. It is very important for a country to have a strong King.”

I nodded vigorously, thinking what had happened in France because of a mischievous pig.

“I protested,” she went on. “But it was no good. And they sent me to Anjou. I hated him on sight. He was a boy of fifteen.”

“He was exceptionally handsome.”

“I did not care if he were Adonis. I had no wish to marry a foolish boy. It was an indignity. Ten years younger than I. I was not a little girl anymore. I was a young woman. I had been an Empress. I had been treated with the utmost respect by my husband and all those about me. In fact, they had implored me not to leave Germany. I could have stayed there. I was their Empress.”

“I think I should have done so.”

“My father would have insisted that I return. You cannot know the power of that man. But even he realized the marriage was a mistake. He might have made Geoffrey marry me but he could not make us live together. We quarreled all the time. He hated me as much as I hated him. He drove me out of Anjou and I went to Rouen and then to England, but for political reasons we had to be together again. I realized the need for heirs and so did he, and in spite of our dislike for each other we lived together, quarreling incessantly, of course, but at least giving us the chance to produce a child. I have never regretted that.”

“It gave you Henry.”

“And he has been the most important person in my life ever since.”

“What of the other children?”

“Geoffrey was born a year after Henry. You have already heard of him.”

“Yes, it was his idea to capture me and force me to marry him, but that was just after my divorce from Louis.”

“He will never succeed in anything. And then there is William. But for me, Henry is the one.”

“For us both,” I said.

“I realize that he has married a woman who is worthy of him.”

“It makes me happy that you should approve of the match,” I said honestly.

“I could do no other. I would not be so foolish as to say that your lands do not count. They do ... enormously. You have made him mightier. He now owns more of France than the King of that country. That is through you. And now, of course, there is England.”

“You must regret after all your efforts that you did not succeed in taking it from Stephen.”

She nodded. “It was mine by right. I was the daughter of the King ... his only legitimate direct heir.”

“It is this infuriating prejudice against women.”

“Which we have both had to overcome. Never mind, my dear, it is a fact that we rule far more than is generally realized. But people will always choose a man rather than a woman. When my father died and I heard they had chosen Stephen, I was mad with rage. I appealed to Rome ... but like everyone else the Pope decided in favor of a man. I did have my half-brother, Earl Robert of Gloucester—one of my father’s illegitimate sons and a good brother to me—to help me. He came to Anjou and later, with him, I landed in England, with 140 knights who were ready to support my cause. People began to rally to my banner.” Her eyes shone at the memory.

“And you were successful?”

“Oh yes, I was successful for a while. They accepted me as the true heiress. The late King was my father. I was the closest to the throne. They had to admit this was so, so I captured him. Eleanor, Stephen was my prisoner! I sent him in chains to Bristol Castle. How well I remember that triumphant progress through England. The people acclaimed me. They wanted me then.”

I looked at her steadily. She was staring ahead, reliving it all. I saw the haughtiness in her face: Matilda, Queen of England.

“I came to London. I did not wait for my coronation. I declared myself Queen. I was determined to rule as my father had. I told myself that I must show no weakness. The very fact that I was a woman meant that I must display my strength at every turn. I must not allow any one of them to take advantage of me. I know now that I was too proud. They did not like me and I did not understand them. They are not disciplined like the Germans ... and I was a German.

“I did not know these people whom I planned to rule. They did not protest. They appeared to accept what I did. And then suddenly they rose against me as one. They turned me out of London. There was only one thing I could do ... hasten to Oxford. I reached there in safety but I did not stay there. I had to get to Winchester to talk with the Bishop there. He had supported me but I had heard he was considering turning back to Stephen as the people had shown so clearly their rejection of me.”

She turned to me and gripped my hands.

I said: “Would you rather not speak of it?”

She shook her head, and a look of scorn came into her eyes. She was a woman who would always despise weakness, most of all in herself.

“I think that stay in Winchester was one of the most horrifying experiences of my life. I had forced my way into the city, and no sooner had I taken possession of it than it was stormed by Stephen’s followers. He was still a prisoner in Bristol Castle but his wife—another Matilda—had rallied an army to fight for his cause. She was one of those good, gentle women who surprise everyone by their strength when it is necessary to show it. Sometimes I think they are really the strong ones. She was with the army which besieged the city.

“Have you ever thought what it would be like to be within the walls of a city when the foodstocks are dwindling daily and everywhere people are dying of sickness and starvation? I hope, my dear, that you never experience it. I knew that we could not continue much longer, and when the city was taken I should fall into the enemy’s hands. I should take Stephen’s place. I should be their prisoner. I would rather face death than that. Humiliation ... indignity ... they are something I could never endure.

“Stephen’s wife, Matilda, was a humane woman. All she wanted was our surrender and the release of her husband. She did not want revenge. I thought then what a fool she was, for out of the kindness of her heart she allowed us to take our dead out at night, passing freely through the guards, so that the corpses might be given a Christian burial. One day I was watching one of these sad ceremonies—the bier, the rough coffin, the body wrapped in a winding sheet—and an idea came to me.”

She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling. She was a woman whose face betrayed her feelings. I could well imagine that she had not been able to hide her contempt for her humble subjects, and this was the main reason why she had lost her throne.

“I saw my way out. I should be a corpse. I should be wrapped in a winding sheet and placed in a coffin, and so I should be borne out of the city gates and through the guards to safety.”

“What a daring plan! And it worked?”

“I remember it clearly ... even now. I awake at night thinking of it. It seemed an unending journey through those guards. I could hear their voices and I lay, still as Death, in my rough-hewn coffin, the sheet over my head, scarcely daring to breathe, and I thought what a fool the saintly Matilda was, to have made such a procedure possible.”

“And when you had passed the guards were there horses waiting for you?”

She shook her head. “No, there could not be. All I knew was that I could get help at Wallingford, so there was nothing to do but make our way there on foot.”

“And you did that?”

“It is surprising what one can do when one has to.”

“But what a triumph!”

“Shortlived. From Wallingford I went to Oxford. There I hoped to rally help and continue the fight. Unfortunately, in attempting to escape from Winchester my half-brother Robert of Gloucester was captured by the Queen’s men. This was a bitter blow to me because he was my greatest general, one of the few in whom I could have complete trust. Queen Matilda bargained with me. The release of Stephen for Robert. I stood out for a long time, but at length I saw that I had to have Robert back and I gave way, so Stephen was freed.”

“And so was Robert.”

“Oh, my good brother! He came to Oxford. He said we could not continue without help. I had sent messengers to Anjou asking Geoffrey to come to my aid, but my husband ignored my request. Robert said he would go to Anjou himself. He would impress on Geoffrey the urgency of the situation and see if he could induce him to come to my assistance. I was loath to lose Robert but at length I agreed, and he went. It was then that Stephen—now freed—came against me and the castle was besieged. Can you imagine my feelings?”