She loved fine garments – so did John; she could not hope to wear such splendid jewel-encrusted clothes as those which belonged to him, but he gave her rich presents. For travelling in the winter he ordered for her a pelisson with five bars of fur across it to keep out the wind. After her coronation five ells of green cloth and another five ells of brown were sent to her so that she might command her seamstress to make it into a gown for her. The King gave her jewels too and how she enjoyed appearing with him at the head of a table while all others looked on with amazement at her sparkling gems and beauty.

She could regret nothing while life promised such excitement.

Their journey through the country was leisurely, for they stayed in the castles of the nobility and there John would receive the homage of his barons which would be extended to Isabella.

By Christmas they reached Guildford and the feast of Christmas was celebrated with much feasting and merriment. Games were played in which the Queen took the central part and for once John was prepared to stand aside and let the limelight fall on someone else. They danced, they sang, they feasted and they drank; and the King would not leave his bed until dinner time.

Up to the north of England they travelled, through Yorkshire to Newcastle and Cumberland right up to the borders of Scotland. By March they had reached the Pennines and greatly daring they battled their way through this range of wolf-infested mountains. Life was full of adventure for the young Queen who until she had met John had never been very far from Angoulême – the only journey she had made being that to the castle of those whom she had then believed would be her new family.

It was Easter time when they reached Canterbury. Here they were greeted by Hubert Walter the Archbishop, and during Mass in the Cathedral he placed the crowns on their heads in accordance with an old custom so that it was like being crowned again.

After this ceremony they went to the Archbishop’s palace where a banquet had been prepared for them. John was delighted.

‘It is rare,’ he told Isabella, ‘that a King of England is on such fair terms with his Archbishop.’

They would return to Westminster, he told her, and there they would hold Court and she would learn more of what it meant to be Queen of England.

She was delighted with the country – although the winter had been more rigorous than that to which she was accustomed but she was young, her blood was warm and she had her pelisson with the five bars of fur to protect her from the fierce winds.

Alas, their pleasurable meanderings through England were coming to an end.

The Easter festivities were no sooner over when a messenger arrived from Eleanor. It seemed that it was impossible for her to retire from life, for she could not resist watching closely what was happening in her son’s dominions. She had been more aware than he was of the trouble he was stirring up when he more or less abducted the betrothed of Hugh de Lusignan.

Now she had disquietening news for him. If he were wise he would prepare to leave England immediately. In short, what had happened was that after John’s marriage the Lusignans had naturally been infuriated with the Count of Angoulême, whom they considered had deceived them cruelly by being a party to his daughter’s marriage with the King after they had pledged her to marry Hugh, and that feud, healed by the betrothal, burst out again. John must remember that Hugh’s brother Ralph was Seneschal of the castle of Eu in Normandy so that the trouble could spread into the duchy.

The Lusignans, filled with hatred towards John, had declared they had thrown off their allegiance to him and had approached the King of France, asking him to accept them as his vassals. Philip, like a wily spider, sitting in his web watching for unwary prey, was congratulating himself on the turn events had taken.

‘There is only one thing to be done,’ wrote Eleanor. ‘Gather together an army and come at once.’

John was a little petulant at the prospect of having his pleasure spoilt, but his mother was insistent and in his heart he had known something of this nature would happen soon.

While he was digesting his mother’s news another messenger arrived.

This one came from the Count of Angoulême who had the same story to tell.

The Lusignans were on the march, vowing vengeance. Moreover, Arthur’s stepfather, Guy of Thouars, was proving himself a clever strategist. In Arthur’s name he was amassing an army. There was trouble then not only from the powerful Lusignans and the King of France but from Arthur.

Arthur must not be victorious.

John made up his mind. He must prepare to leave England. He would need a big army so he sent envoys throughout the country commanding his barons to come with all speed to Portsmouth with their followers, for he planned to cross to the Continent without delay.


There followed the first clap of thunder from a storm which was to grow big.

Many of the barons had been consulting together and were recalling the good old days before the reign of Henry II when they had indeed been rulers of their estates. None of them could remember that time but the stories had been handed down through their grandparents and parents. In the days of Stephen a baron was a baron. He was the king of his own lands and held jurisdiction over those who passed through them. They forgot that during that time it was not safe for travellers to go on to the road and that many of those who did were captured by cruel and avaricious barons and either held to ransom or robbed and tortured for the sport of other baron guests. This was a situation which to all decent men was intolerable and the rule of Henry II had wiped it out, much to the relief of almost every inhabitant of the country apart from those unscrupulous men who had profited from this barbarism.

Henry II’s stern but just laws had made the country safe again and that King was such that none would have dared to go against him; but when Richard had come to the throne and had enforced taxation in order to pay for his crusade the people had grown restive. But the knowledge that he was engaged in the Holy War made them little inclined to revolt against such taxes because they superstitiously feared they would offend Heaven by doing so and would consequently suffer more harm than if they gave up their money. So they paid up: and when Richard was taken prisoner and came back a hero they were proud of him. All who saw him declared that even towards the end of his life he had the appearance of a god.

And then he had died and there was John. In the first place John lacked those impressive good looks, that kingly bearing and world-wide reputation. John’s image was tarnished before he came to the throne. They had all heard of his exploits in Ireland and when, as Count of Mortain, brother of the King, he had ridden through their villages, they had hidden their daughters. It was well known that when Richard was away he had plotted against him without much foresight and wisdom and consequently been forced to humble himself and crave pardon when his brother returned. They knew that that pardon had been given and Richard had been heard to say that his young brother had been led astray, and in any case he was not to be feared because he would never be able to make a conquest and if by good fortune a kingdom fell into his hands he would not be able to hold it against a foe.

That clearly indicated Richard’s contempt for John. It may well have been why, the barons now reasoned, he had at one time named Arthur as his heir.

And now, there was trouble on the Continent. The barons cared little for the Continent. They were English now, for though many of them had Norman ancestors, Normandy now seemed far away; it was their estates in England which they cared about and they had no desire to pay with their money and perhaps with their lives to help the King hold territories on the Continent while their affairs in England were neglected.

Some of the more bold of them now called together all those who had received a summons from the King and they met at Leicester where they decided they would make a stand against the King’s orders.

They would not accompany him in his proposed war unless in return he did something for them. They wanted the old privileges which their baron ancestors had enjoyed returned to them.

John was in Portsmouth awaiting their arrival when he received the message. Immediately he flew into a rage. Isabella was with him and this was the first time she had seen one of his rages. He had been so delighted with his marriage, so absorbed by Isabella that nothing irked him at all; he had been content to put aside anything that was unpleasant and give himself up entirely to enjoying his marriage.

But this was too much. They had dared defy him as they would never have defied Richard or his father! They refused to come, unless he complied with their conditions.

‘I’ll see them in hell first!’ he screamed and threw himself on to the floor.

Isabella watched him, round-eyed, as he rolled back and forth clutching the rushes, tearing at them with his teeth and spitting them forth as he kicked out madly.

‘John!’ she cried. ‘Please … please do not do that. You will do yourself an injury.’

For once he did not hear her. He lay kicking violently at anything which came within range and when, frightened, she ran out of the room, he did not even notice her going.

When his fury had abated a little he sent for the messenger. The man came pale and trembling, for the news that the King was in one of his raging tantrums had reached him.