Jean Plaidy - The Prince of Darkness

The Pope was amused. So John thought he had an advocate near the Papal Court, did he? He would have to understand that Stephen Langton was no man to be bribed or intimidated. He was one who would stand by his principles in any circumstances, and he was a staunch upholder of the Church and would always support it against any temporal rulers.

He therefore called together an assembly of monks and bishops and told them that his choice had fallen on Stephen Langton and they must agree with him that there was no one more suited to the post, and he therefore proposed to elect him Archbishop of Canterbury. The see was vacant, rendered so by the death of good Archbishop Hubert. The secret election of Reginald, because it had been conducted in an unorthodox manner, was void and the election of John de Grey was similarly so because it had taken place before Reginald had been displaced. Neither of these men seemed so eligible and everyone must agree with him that Stephen Langton was eminently so.

The monks were frightened, but the Pope was at hand and the King was far away, and the Pope could be forbidding. In his hands lay the power of excommunication, which all men feared, for to die with the dread sentence on one meant exclusion from Heaven, and eternal damnation.

Nevertheless, the monks were uneasy. They would have to return to England in due course and face the King’s wrath. On the other hand it was either that or braving the Pope’s. As men of the Church they must fear their spiritual leader more than their temporal one.

There was but one exception. Elias of Brantfield abstained from voting. The rest elected Stephen Langton as Archbishop of Canterbury.

John had other matters with which to concern himself at this time. If he were not going to lose the whole of his Continental possessions to Philip he must do something about the matter. He consulted with his generals and ministers and it was decided that if a small force could be taken to La Rochelle, which was still loyal to him, it might be possible to start an offensive and regain some of the lands lost to him. Moreover, La Rochelle would not be able to hold out for long if Philip made a determined attack on it. He could hire mercenaries to fight for him. He declared they were often more reliable than his own knights; a mercenary was in the battle for what he could get and if there were plenty of spoils that was good enough for him. Men of principle, such as the Marshal, were not always as useful as they might have been.

It was in June, while the controversy about the election of the archbishop was going on in Rome, that John and his small force set sail for La Rochelle; and to his great joy when he arrived there it was to discover that Aquitaine was prepared to stand with him, for it was clear that Philip was casting covetous eyes on that duchy which had no desire to be ruled by him.

After securing his position at La Rochelle John went to Niort, another stronghold which had remained faithful to him. He began to score a few successes which, although they were far from decisive, had the effect of making the wary Philip reconsider the position and decide that he was not at this time ready for a major offensive.

The result was that he was quite prepared to agree to a truce which was to last two years. John was delighted. He had not hoped for such success, and one of the terms of the treaty was that Isabella – her father having died – should be declared the Countess of Angoulême. This meant that John had allies which he had not possessed when he had set out on his expedition; and, moreover, he had two years in which to prepare to go to war with France and regain all that he had lost.

He came back to England in high good spirits, laughing inwardly at all those knights who had criticised him for lying in bed half the day and neglecting his duties. This would show them. When he did take action he was successful. He had promised them that he would win back all he had lost to Philip and he would.

Almost immediately on his return he received news of what had happened in Rome.

The Pope had dared to reject his man and elect Stephen Langton.

The King’s fury was such that it threatened to choke him. He could only splutter in dismay and all those about him knew that they were in for one of his major rages. They faded away from him, fearing that he might give vent to his feelings on any who were close at hand.

He went to Isabella and told her what had happened. Tears of rage spurted from his eyes and he plucked at the jewelled buttons on his cloak, pulling them off and throwing them about the room.

Isabella languorously asked what ailed him.

‘What ails me?’ he screamed. ‘That rogue of Rome has set up his man for the archbishopric.’

‘Which man?’

‘One called Stephen Langton. A great scholar, he says. I want no scholars. I’ll put out the fellow’s eyes and see how he attends to his studies then. Very clever he is said to be, well so am I, I tell you. So am I.’

‘We know,’ said Isabella, ‘and we know also that you are the King. How dare the Pope put up his man and can he do that if you are against it? I suppose he can as Pope.’

John was foaming at the mouth. ‘No, he can’t. I’ll not have it. Stephen Langton can stay in Rome where he belongs, for if he attempts to come here he’ll soon be lying in a dungeon minus some vital organ, I can tell you.’

‘Be calm, John.’

‘Calm! When my authority is flouted? Am I King of this realm or am I not?’

‘Undoubtedly you are, so behave like it.’

For a moment his rage was turned on her. ‘Do not try me too far, madam. I have been over-soft with you because you have good bed manners, but you are not in bed now.’

That made her laugh and he came to her and seized her angrily. She slid her arms about his heck, and pressed her body against his. He immediately felt the familiar surge of desire. It was strange how she could move him still. It astonished him. She was incomparable. It was some quality … witchcraft they said. If it was, he didn’t mind. He liked it. Still he was glad of the women who now and then replaced her. If she knew about them she’d be mad with rage. He held that against her. She was more in his power than he was in hers.

But this was too important a matter to be shrugged aside by pleasures which he could indulge in at his will. Now he was furious with the Pope and he was going to let the whole world know.

He put her from him and shouted: ‘If I gave way the whole world would laugh at me. I appoint an archbishop and the Pope says no and sets up his. No king would stomach that – nor should I. Why do you sit there smiling?’

‘Because you would set up a man who would work for you and the Pope would set up one who would work for him. The stronger man will win.’

‘And you know who that is.’

‘You, my King. You of course.’

He was not going to be sidetracked with soft words. He was going to show Rome and England that he was the King who would rule his own country and that included the Church within it. He was not going to have the Pope setting himself up over the King.

He set out at once for Canterbury and again the Abbot and his monks were thrown into a panic when they heard of the King’s approach.

He summoned them all to meet him and although his rage was great it was by this time somewhat under control.

He shouted at the assembly. ‘By God’s teeth, there are traitors here. There are liars and enemies of the King. I forget not that I came here and was told that Reginald had not been elected. Then it seemed he had. And knowing that you had elected Reginald, yet you denied it and elected John de Grey. So says the Pope this makes both elections invalid and he would set up his own man. I will not have this man. I … and I alone, will select my archbishop. I will have people of my choice, those who work for me and not for themselves or the Pope. You thought to trick me. Do not deny it. I know full well your cowardly ways. In secret you set your choice upon the Primate’s throne. A plague on you all. You are no longer monks of mine. Get out! This is no longer your abbey. Go, go … go! No … not tomorrow … nor the next day … as you are now … now unless you, wish to be cast into dungeons, which you richly deserve. What would be the best punishment for you, I wonder – to deprive you of the eyes that looked on that treacherous ceremony or the tongues which applauded it?’

He was amused to see the terror dawn in people’s faces at the prospect of these terrible punishments. To threaten them with death could not produce the same concern.

‘So shall it be,’ he cried. ‘If you are not on your way this very day. Where to? you might ask. Go where you will. Go crawling back to the master whom you thought to serve better than you serve me. Go to Reginald and ask him to care for you. You gave him your support … in defiance of your King … let him support you now.’

The rage was in control. This was more enjoyable … to inflict punishment on others rather than himself because when the rages were out of control he came close to injuring himself. How much more fun to strike terror into their hearts.

That day sixty-seven of the monks left Canterbury and made their way to the Continent. John was pleased, for now he was in possession of their lands.

He was in no hurry to settle the dispute – even to install John de Grey – because until there was an Archbishop of Canterbury the riches of that very prosperous see remained in his possession.

John sat down to write to the Pope. He was not going to curb his anger. He wanted Innocent to know that he had no intention of submitting to his will. He would not accept Stephen Langton as his archbishop and he understood well Innocent’s reasons for trying to impose this man upon him. He wanted to force papal doctrines on him which as a King of England he could not accept. It was a matter of amazement to him that a Pope could have so little regard for the friendship of the King of England as to treat him with such a lack of respect, as a man whose desires were of so little consequence. John was afraid that he must point out to His Holiness that he could not – nor would he – accept such treatment; and if the Pope had so little regard for him, that was not the case with others. He knew nothing of this man, Stephen Langton, except that he had been particularly well received at the Court of King Philip in France – a man who had shown himself to be no friend to John, indeed he would find it difficult to name one who was a greater enemy to him. And this was the man whom the Pope – without the sanction of the King of England – had chosen to be England’s Primate. This was beyond John’s understanding.