Jean Plaidy - The Plantagenet Prelude

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.

The Archbishop was of the opinion that the coronation should take place without delay. Henry agreed with him. Until a king was crowned he was not the acknowledged ruler, his mother had warned him time and time again. Here again he had learned from her. She had never achieved the all-important coronation.

With a foresight characteristic of her, long before Stephen’s death Eleonore had sent to Constantinople for the finest material known, so that on the day of her coronation in Westminster Abbey she would be looking her most brilliant best. The materials had arrived before she left Barfleur and she had them with her.

She was therefore ready for whatever date was suggested and as Archbishop Theobald had said ‘No delay’, it was to be the 19th December.

The great day arrived. Eleonore was dressed in robes of silk and brocade of such magnificence as the people of England had never seen before. She was like a goddess. As for Henry, he was never very eager to dress himself up. He was a man of action and he asked that his garments should not impede him but be comfortable. However on his coronation day he made special concessions and because of this he was able to stand beside his elegant and luxurious queen without making too great a contrast. His short hair, his shaven chin and moustachios appealed to the people. His dress was a doublet and short cloak of the kind which was not usual in England although it was a common feature of Angevin fashion. His dalmatica, made of fine brocade, was embroidered in gold. The pair looked startlingly majestic and the spectators were enchanted.

‘Long live the King and his Queen,’ they cried wholeheartedly for they believed that a new era was beginning. There would be a colourful court, such as they loved and they could take a new interest in the lives of their royal family.

Stephen’s queen had been a good woman but the good were never so interesting as the naughty ones. Stephen himself though one of the handsomest men of his times was too mild.

They liked this pair.

The Queen would cease to be known as Eleonore and would become Eleanor in the English fashion, and their King was affectionately nicknamed Courtmantle on account of the shortness of his cloak.

They were accepted.

The weather was bleak; the castle of Westminster was draughty, and the Queen missed the warmth of her southern home, but the glow of satisfaction she knew from this rich acquisition, this land of mystery, the possession and holding of which had been the greatest ambition of the greatest of all Conquerors, made up for any lack of comfort.

King Henry and Queen Eleanor were the rightful rulers of England. With what pride they rode through the streets; with what joy they listened to the loyal shouts of the people. And so to Westminster Palace, there to spend their first Christmas in their new land.

As soon as the Christmas festivities were over Eleanor began to consider her lying-in. Westminster Palace did not seem a suitable spot and she decided to move to the palace of Bermondsey.

This was situated in a village close to London where, a short while before, a priory had been built. It was a pleasant place and she settled into the Saxon palace with pleasure. From the long narrow glassless windows she could see the green fields surrounding the palace and was struck by their freshness; the gardens were beautiful too and she was glad that she had come here for the birth of her second child.

Henry would not be with her during those weeks when she awaited the birth. He was very much aware of the need to consolidate his position. Although he was only twenty-one he had wisdom far beyond his years; he was a born ruler and a good judge of human nature. The cheers of the people at the coronation still rang in his ears but he was well aware how fickle the acclaim of the people could be. He would never forget that he must never relinquish his hold on the crown.

The first thing he set about doing was to choose his chief ministers. The Earl of Leicester was an obvious choice; he had already had an indication of his friendship and he had assessed the man’s character. He knew that if he was a good friend to Leicester, the Earl would be a loyal subject to him. Therefore he was his first choice. Another he chose was Richard de Luci, a man who had had some standing under Stephen. Henry did not care that he had been a supporter of Stephen. He took to the man at once and read honesty in his face, and Henry trusted his own judgement.

These two were to be his chief advisers and he told them that he intended to go into action immediately. He was going to show the people of England that he intended to restore law and order throughout the land and this meant that he must silence any who would not accept him as their King and, popular as he had been in London and Winchester, he knew he could not hope for every man in the country to acclaim him. There would for instance be all those barons who had profited by the laxity of the law and had built up riches by exploiting those weaker than themselves. He was going to make immediate war on such people and destroy their castles, and for this reason he would make a tour of the country that all might be made aware of the new King’s intentions.

This suggestion was acclaimed by his ministers and all right-thinking men and women, and great optimism swept over the country.

In Bermondsey, Eleanor awaited the birth of the child while Henry began his pilgrimage. He travelled in great state as became a king and with him rode not only his army but his domestic staff with all their accoutrements. His bed with clean straw for his bedding was carried in the cavalcade, with objects of furniture, his clothes and food. Cooks, stewards, scullions, and other members of his household staff marched with his soldiers.

People turned out in their thousands to watch the procession pass and so during those early days of his reign he began to rid the country of the brigand barons, burning down many of their fortresses much to the delight of those who had for long lived in fear of them.

There were of course many who resented this but they had little chance against the King. As the days passed he grew in strength and it was clear to many that the weak rule of Stephen was over.

Meanwhile in the village of Bermondsey Eleonor gave birth to her child.

This was a cause for great rejoicing for not only was it a boy but this time a lusty one. This was a great comfort for little William’s health had not improved and it seemed hardly likely that he would reach his manhood.

‘There is only one name for this boy,’ declared Eleanor. ‘He must be called Henry after his father.’

As soon as Eleanor had risen from child-bed she joined Henry and they went about the country together in order to show themselves to their people.

‘Let us be together while we can,’ said Henry, ‘for I fear trouble either in Normandy, Aquitaine, Maine or Anjou … and then I shall have to leave you to govern here in my absence.’

Eleanor replied that she hoped he would stay with her, but if by ill-chance he was forced to go away she would use all her skill to govern in his place and according to his wishes.

‘It was a good day when we were wed,’ he told her. ‘Two sons you have already given me and it is not so long since we were married.’

‘I am anxious about William,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t seem to have the will to live,’

‘He’ll grow out of it.’

‘You could never have been like that.’

‘Oh, I would bawl for all I wanted and when my grandfather used to dandle me on his knee, he told me that his father grasped a handful of rushes when he was a few days old and that this was a symbol of what his life would be. He’d take land wherever he found it. And it seems I took after him. You can’t expect everyone to be like us.’

‘I’d expect it of your son,’ replied Eleanor. ‘Henry is more like you. He has more life in him already than our poor little William.’

‘William’ll change. He’ll be a scholar most likely. Forget not he has two learned parents.’

Although he was smiling he was thinking of his illegitimate son by Hikenai and of his promise to bring him to court.

Not yet, he comforted himself. The boy would be too young for a few years.

During one of his visits to Bermondsey his brother Geoffrey came to the palace and demanded an audience.