The Hammer of the Scots Page 3

  Edward understood. Poor Eleanor, she was called upon once more to make one of those decisions which fall to people such as she was. A selfish woman would have had no difficulty. She would simply have done what she wanted. But Eleanor must always do what was right for others before she considered herself.

  So they had left Baby Joanna with Eleanor’s mother who seized the child hungrily and had all but hidden her away lest her parents should change their minds.

  And now here they were – home in England, Baby Joanna left behind in Castile.

  But on the shore the children whom they had left in England were waiting for them.

  There was a shout of joy as the King stepped ashore, quickly followed by his Queen.

  ‘Long live the King.’ The loyal cries went up.

  Edward stood for a moment, his wife beside him, listening to their cheers.

  Then he saw his mother, erect, her outstanding beauty scarcely impaired at all by the years and her grief. She was holding two children by the hand and the Queen’s eyes went immediately to them. She gave a little cry and held out her arms.

  They were running to her – Princess Eleanor, the daughter who had been named after her, and the little boy, Prince Henry, pale and breathless.

  ‘My darlings.’ The Queen had knelt down, her arms about them, tears in her eyes.

  ‘My lady,’ cried the Princess, ‘you are home at last. It is years and years ago that you went away …’

  She could only hold them to her.

  ‘Henry, my darling …’ Oh God, she thought. How pale he is! He is too small, too frail …

  Then Edward had picked up his son. He set him on his shoulder. He held his daughter close to him and stood there.

  A touching sight. This great king who towered above his subjects, dismissing ceremony, in that profound emotion engendered by his reunion with his family.

  The Queen – more beautiful than they remembered – standing there beside him. A happy omen. A king come home. Old Henry was gone; his extravagant wife was relegated to the background. King Edward had come into his own.

  ‘Long live the King.’

  Everyone who witnessed that affecting scene was sure that it was a good augury for England.

  * * *

  Edward was proud as he rode up the steep hill to the castle keep. The road was lined with cheering subjects who were determined to let him know how pleased they were that he had returned, and in their cheers was the hope that in him they had a strong king who would set right all that had gone wrong during the mismanagement of the previous reigns.

  Dover had been aptly named by the early Britons Dvfyrrha, meaning the steep place. And what an inspiring sight it was to look down on that magnificent harbour and out to sea where he knew that on fine days the coast of France could be seen. Part of the castle was the work of the Romans and beside it was the ancient Pharos to remind people of their occupation. The castle was three hundred feet above sea level – perfectly placed for defence. No wonder it was called the Key to England.

  Here his ancestors had lived. The Conqueror had taken possession of it immediately after the Battle of Hastings and Edward’s great-grandfather, Henry II, had rebuilt the keep. Oh yes, it was undoubtedly a great moment when he passed into the castle.

  The Queen was beside him but she had eyes only for her children, and was longing to discuss the state of Henry’s health with her mother-in-law.

  There was a chill in the castle in spite of the fact that it was August. She, who had spent so long in warmer climates, noticed it, and her first reaction was to wonder whether Henry suffered from this cold.

  In their apartments Edward turned to her.

  ‘Home at last, my love,’ he said. ‘I trust it will be long before we have to go on our travels again.’

  She nodded. A forlorn hope. When had any King of England been allowed to live peacefully in England?

  The Queen Mother came to them. Instinctively the Queen knew that her mother-in-law was eager to assert her power and to let them know that she was as important now as she had been when her husband was alive.

  ‘What joy it is to have you home,’ she cried. ‘The loyalty of the people was heart-warming.’

  Edward looked at his mother a little cynically. There had been no cheers for her and their absence had been rather noticeable at times.

  ‘They are so happy to have you home and so they should be.’ Her eyes glistened. She was proud of having produced such a kingly son. ‘Why, Edward,’ she went on, ‘had I not seen you before, I should have known that you were the King. You stand out among all men.’

  His wife nodded in agreement.

  ‘We must celebrate your return,’ went on the Queen Mother. ‘There must be a banquet in Westminster and then we shall have to prepare for the coronation.’

  ‘We will dispense with the banquet, my lady,’ said the King. ‘The coronation will be costly enough.’

  ‘Dear Edward, you must not forget you are now the King. You must act in a kingly fashion.’

  ‘That I intend to do. That is why I do not propose to squander the exchequer.’

  The Queen Mother laughed aloud. ‘Your father would have given a most splendid feast,’ she said reproachfully.

  ‘I have no doubt. But I must go my own way. The coronation will be grand. The people expect that, and will be ready to pay for it. But there is no need to involve them in more expense than is necessary.’

  The Queen Mother was sober. ‘Why, my son, what has happened to you during your travels? Your father …’

  ‘It distresses me to hear his name mentioned,’ said Edward. ‘I was never so unhappy as when I heard the news, but I tell you this, my lady: there will be no wasting of money on feasts. We shall concentrate at once on the coronation.’

  His wife was proud of him. He was indeed kingly. He could even subdue his formidable mother. The Queen Mother lifted her shoulders helplessly.

  ‘The London merchants are rich. The Jews still flourish. They could easily be taxed …’

  ‘New taxes so early in a reign could tend to make a king very unpopular,’ said Edward. ‘I want to keep the people with me.’

  He bowed to his wife and his mother and left the chamber.

  The Queen Mother smiled lightly at the Queen.

  ‘He is anxious to show us he is the King,’ was her comment.

  The Queen, who could be bold where her loved ones and her duty were concerned, retorted, ‘He is the King, Madam, and determined to rule well.’

  ‘His father never denied me anything. He always saw from my point of view.’

  ‘Edward will see from his own point of view.’

  ‘Of course he has been away so long. Perhaps it will be different when he has grown used to us all again.’

  The Queen was silent for a few moments and then she said, ‘I am concerned about Henry.’

  The Queen Mother’s face was immediately grave.

  ‘He is not strong,’ she admitted.

  ‘I was frightened when I saw him. I thought of little John …’

  ‘I have watched him constantly. I have seen that he eats what he should. My dear daughter, when he has been ill I have been at his bedside night and day.’

  The Queen took the Queen Mother’s hand and pressed it warmly. ‘I know well how much you love him.’

  ‘The dear, dear child. He has been the centre of my life since the King went.’

  ‘I know it. But he is too thin. Too frail. I could have wept when I saw him.’

  ‘I feared it. The journey to Dover tired him.’

  ‘Perhaps he should not have made it.’

  ‘I feared to leave him behind. I do not think it is good for him to be aware of his weakness. It worries him and he tries to keep up with others.’

  ‘Was it so with little John?’

  The Queen Mother nodded.

  ‘Oh, I could not bear it if …’

  The Queen Mother said, ‘We must do everything that we can without calling attention to
his weakness. I have had wax images of him burned at the shrines.’

  ‘And no good came of it?’ asked the Queen.

  ‘Sometimes he seemed to be stronger for a few days and then he was ill again.’

  ‘Perhaps we should hire some poor widows to perform vigils for his health.’

  ‘I fear that would call attention to his state.’

  The Queen nodded. And the Queen Mother, all softness because the welfare of the family was in question, said gently, ‘Let us hope that now his mother is home he will grow out of his weakness. You know I had my anxious moments with Edward. I remember a time when we went to Beaulieu Abbey for the dedication of a church. He had a cough which worried me and during the ceremony he developed a fever. I insisted on keeping him at the Abbey and staying to nurse him. Oh what a pother there was! A woman sleeping in the Abbey! It was unheard of. It was offending the laws of God they said. I was ready to set aside the laws of God for my son I tell you. And stay I did and nurse him I did. I tell you this, my daughter, because you have only to look at Edward today. Can you ever believe that he was anything but a healthy child?’

  ‘You comfort me,’ said the Queen.

  ‘Let us hope that Henry will grow out of his delicacy as his father grew out of his.’

  ‘I intend to do everything possible to bring that about.’

  ‘You can depend on me to stand beside you.’

  The Queen felt drawn towards her mother-in-law. It was true that the latter was extravagant and she understood through Edward that she had been responsible for much of King Henry’s unpopularity; but she was a woman whose unswerving loyalty to her family never wavered.

  Whatever else she was, Eleanor of Provence gave the utmost devotion to her family.

  * * *

  The royal party must not linger at Dover. They must make their way to London or the Londoners would be displeased. As Edward remarked to the Queen, he could not afford to be unpopular in the capital. He had seen what that had done to his parents. There was a little tightening of his lips and the Queen was proud and pleased that he was determined not to allow his mother to rule him. She had been a little afraid that this might be the case, for she had seen the power of that determined woman and she knew full well that a strong bond of affection existed between them. But no, Edward was not going to forget he was the King and he would be the sole ruler of his country.

  It was a joyful procession all along the route. Edward knew he must not pass too hurriedly. All his loyal subjects wished to see him and a great deal depended on first impressions. He must show them all – even the humblest – that he had their welfare at heart. At this time their loyalty was his and he must keep it so; he must remember that though he was the undoubted son and heir of the late King, the best of all claims to the throne came through the will of the people. That was a lesson he had learned through his father, whose example had taught him how a king should not behave towards his subjects. It seemed strange to him that loving his parents as he did he could see their faults so clearly.

  It was a good plan to have the children riding with them. There was nothing that appealed to humble people like children. He could see too that they liked the Queen. It was to her advantage that they had so disliked the previous one that they were inclined to think any successor was preferable; but there was something about Eleanor’s gentle demeanour and her obvious care for her children which entirely won their hearts.

  The scene was set fair. He was sure of it. And it was for them to keep it thus.

  Everywhere there were cheers and flowers strewn in their paths.

  ‘Long live the King! Long live the Queen.’ It was music in his ears.

  He could not suppress a sly smile when his mother passed in the procession and an almost sullen silence fell on the crowd. Dear lady, he thought indulgently, she could never see that the people blamed her for everything that had gone wrong because she would bring her poor relations into the country. She could so easily have won their approval. But she simply had not bothered to do so. He loved her tenderly. He remembered her maternal care for him and her passionate devotion to her family; yet at the same time his reason had always told him that she had brought her unpopularity on herself. He remembered that time when the Londoners had pelted the barge, in which she was trying to escape, with refuse and heavy stones in the hope of drowning her. None of the family had ever forgiven the Londoners for that; and yet he understood their reasons. Beloved mother, she was so clever in so many ways, but she could never understand that kings and queens must have the approval of their subjects if they are going to stay safe on the throne.

  They halted at the Castle of Tunbridge where Gilbert de Clare, called the Red on account of the colour of his hair, was waiting to receive the royal party and declare his fealty to the King.

  Edward welcomed this, for Gilbert the Red was a good man to have on his side. A forthright man, Gilbert had never been afraid to make his opinions known, and therefore to be welcomed by him added to that sense of security which the greetings of the people had given Edward.

  The Queen Mother was less pleased. She had thought they should not have stayed at Tonbridge. ‘There is a man who cannot be trusted,’ she had said to Edward. ‘He was not a good friend to your father. Now is the time to show men like Gilbert de Clare that it will go ill with them if they are disloyal to their King.’

  ‘My lady mother,’ said Edward courteously, ‘I know this man’s mind. He will be on whatever side he wishes and nothing would change that. If he dislikes my deeds he will be against me as he was against my father. He has now sworn fealty to me, which means that he is ready to support me.’

  ‘Providing he gets his way.’

  ‘’Tis not his way or my way, it is a matter of how the country is governed.’

  ‘And you will let him have a say in that and tell you what to do?’

  ‘Certainly he and the other barons must have a say. That is the way the people wish it to be. But rest assured, dear lady, that it shall be my will that is done – though it may be I have to persuade my subjects to accept it.’

  ‘They should obey unquestioningly.’

  ‘That is something they have never done. A king cannot prevent the humblest peasant from questioning if only in his mind.’

  ‘Peasants, dear son, do not possess minds.’

  ‘Ah, dear mother, let us not make the mistake of underestimating the people. We have seen what disastrous effects that can have.’

  ‘Your father never considered the people.’

  ‘There is truth in that and let us face it – he came near to losing his crown.’

  ‘Oh, how can you speak of your father thus!’

  He put his arm about her. ‘We loved him dearly,’ he said, ‘but our love did not prevent the disasters of civil war. I am determined that that shall never happen in my reign. This is as strong an arm as ever wielded a sword, dear mother, but my heart and my brain will tell me when it must sheath that sword.’

  The Queen Mother looked at her son with trepidation. She felt that her rule was coming to an end.

  There was feasting fitting for the occasion in the great hall at Tonbridge. Gilbert de Clare sat beside the King and expressed his pleasure in his return. This was an honest expression of his feelings, for Gilbert was not a man for pretence. Like all sensible men, he wanted to see the country at peace with itself, for only then could prosperity come. He was three or four years younger than Edward and had become the most powerful of the barons. There had been a time when he had supported Simon de Montfort against the royal party, but he was a man who would not hesitate to change sides.

  He would always prefer to support the King. Moreover there was a family connection. Twenty years before when the King’s half-brothers and sisters had invaded the country to see what advantages they could get, Henry had decided that he would be a good husband for his kinswoman, Alice of Angoulême. Gilbert had been not quite ten years old at the time and had had no say in the matter. The marriage had
been quite unsatisfactory.

  Now as they drank wine together and listened to the minstrels who sang for the pleasure of the company Gilbert contemplated the happiness of the King and his Queen and his eyes grew a little wistful – a fact which was not lost on the King.

  ‘I trust we shall now enjoy a period of peace,’ said Gilbert. ‘The barons are hopeful.’

  ‘I shall do my best to see that their hopes are fulfilled, for I believe they want the prosperity of the country as much as I do myself.’

  ‘It is what the barons have always wished for, my lord.’

  A reminder of Gilbert’s honesty. He was not going to pretend to please the King and pander to some mistaken notion that the dead must be praised and that Henry was a saint. Henry had brought his troubles on himself and as he was King those were the country’s troubles. Gilbert implied that the barons would be behind the new King while the new King acted wisely and for the good of his country.

  As that was exactly what Edward intended to do he did not resent Gilbert’s attitude.

  ‘This is indeed a happy augury,’ went on Gilbert. ‘You have your crusade behind you. The people like a crusader king as long as his crusade is in the past and they cannot be taxed to pay for it while their king goes off and leaves his country in hands other than his own. So they like a crusader king who has proved himself in advance to be a great warrior and if that king has a loving wife and a family it pleases them. That is a great boon to a man.’

  ‘Forgive me, my friend,’ said the King, ‘but do I sense that you are not happy on that score?’

  ‘I will tell you this, my lord: if I could rid myself of Alice and take another wife, gladly would I do so. She comes from an overbearing family. Your grandmother was a wild woman, sire, and when she was Queen of England had power even over King John for long after their marriage, but when she married Hugh de Lusignan she bred a race of harpies.’