Geoffrey and Marshal consulted together. They thought the end was near and they should call a priest.
There was no priest. In fact, they were almost alone with the King. He was dying and all knew it. Most of the knights were concerned for their own safety. What would happen to them when he was dead? There was no point in remaining if the King were dying.
I hope he did not know they were deserting him. Geoffrey and William Marshal kept that fact from him. They remained by his bedside and watched life slowly ebb away.
Then he looked at them with anguish in his eyes. He grasped Geoffrey’s hand, and suddenly the young man felt the grip slacken.
He bent over his father. The King murmured: “Oh, the shame that I suffer now ... the shame of a vanquished King.”
And those were the last words of Henry Plantagenet.
Richard’s Marriage
WHEN I HEARD THE news of Henry’s death I was deeply shocked. My mind was a jumble of impressions from the past. I did not know whether I was glad or sorry. The idea of a world without that maddening, devious personality, who meant no good to me, was somehow empty.
I supposed that everyone who had lived close to him must have been deeply impressed by him. He was no ordinary man. He was unique. Whenever I had encountered him I felt a great excitement; to do battle with him had been as stimulating as making love had been.
It was strange to remember that he had gone forever.
But why should I mourn? I had been his prisoner for sixteen years. He had dared treat me thus. Now I was free. My beloved son Richard was King of England. Everything would be different from now on.
Even before orders came that I was to be released, people behaved differently. There were no more guards, no more locked doors. With Richard King, his mother would be the most important woman in the land.
William Marshal arrived at Winchester almost immediately. To my surprise he came from Richard. I could not help but be amazed after what I had heard of their encounter when Marshal had been on the point of killing him. Marshal himself told me what had happened and how it was that Richard had chosen him to be his messenger.
After the King’s death he and Geoffrey had carried him to Fontevrault Abbey and sent word to Richard that his father was dead.
There Henry lay, stripped of his jewels and all possessions, which those who deserted him had taken before they went. There were very few besides Marshal and Geoffrey who had remained faithful to him.
That was perhaps one of the saddest aspects of all.
Richard had arrived at Fontevrault and stood beside the dead King. It was typical of William Marshal that he did not attempt to make his escape, although it must have occurred to him that after what had happened he would have little mercy from the new King.
Richard had moved away from the corpse and signed to Marshal to follow him.
He said: “There is work for you to do, William Marshal. I cannot return to England immediately. Go to my mother and, with her, guard my kingdom until I return.”
William was so taken aback that he stared at the King in amazement.
Richard said: “I trust those men who are faithful to their kings, and I believe you will be so to the new one as you were to the old.”
William took his hand and kissed it.
“I will, my lord King,” he said.
I was delighted. Richard was not always by nature magnanimous, but I considered this a gesture worthy of a shrewd king; William Marshal’s acceptance of him made me feel that everything I had heard of him was true.
A king needs men such as William Marshal about him.
Thus it was that he arrived in England and came straight to me.
William brought letters from Richard in which he stated that I was to have full command of the kingdom until his return. My orders should be obeyed as though they came from the King himself. I was delighted and gratified by his trust. It was my duty now to prepare the people for him. I knew they would be feeling a little dubious.
He had never shown much interest in England; he had been out of it for most of his life. I had to make them realize that he was a strong man, a worthy successor to his father.
A further shock awaited me. Following almost immediately on the news of Henry’s death came that of Matilda. She had in fact died a few days before her father. I was glad he had been spared the grief of knowing this.
He had skillfully negotiated with the Emperor Frederick and had made it possible for them to return to their own dominions; but I believe the strain she had suffered greatly impaired Matilda’s health. It was sad that her husband was not with her when she died. He had been with the Emperor in the Holy Land and had taken their eldest son, Henry, with him. Thus Matilda died with only Richenza, Lothair and William beside her. She was only thirty-three years old.
The messenger who brought me this terrible news tried to comfort me by telling me that she had been buried with great pomp and ceremony in the church of St. Blasius. As if that could console me! I was grief-stricken for the loss of my daughter as I could not be for my husband.
I went over the details of her childhood and our last meeting ... and my sorrow was great.
But there was no time for mourning. Richard was left to me, and my time must be dedicated to his needs.
I could not tarry in Winchester. I must go to London as soon as possible.
Before I left I summoned the Princess Alais to come to me. I think she was very frightened, fearing what would become of her now that the King was dead. She stood before me trembling.
She was a poor thing, really. She had so little spirit. That was what he had found comforting; she would always be ready to obey without question. I despised her, and I reminded myself that while I had been a prisoner she had been acting as Queen, taking my place.
The tables were turned now.
“Your position has changed considerably,” I said. “You must be wondering what will become of you.”
She looked blankly at me. I could see that she had been weeping.
“I, who was a prisoner here, am so no longer,” I went on. “The King treated me very badly, but that is over now. What are you going to do now that he is no longer here to protect you?” She looked at me piteously.
“You can’t expect Richard to marry you.”
“No,” she said quietly.
“No indeed. You could not expect the King of England to marry his father’s onetime mistress. Oh Alais, who would have believed that possible—and you the half-sister to the King of France!”
“Perhaps ... I should go home.”
“Do you think you would be welcome at your brother’s Court? You are no longer a marriageable princess. So many people know what you were doing with the late King. I ... his prisoner ... was aware of it. As you know, your lover kept me in captivity for sixteen years ... apart from that short period when he cheated me into going to Aquitaine to put my duchy at peace.”
“I ... I did know.”
“For what reason do you think?”
“Because you plotted with his sons against him.”
“That is what he told you, was it? His sons were against him because he tried to cheat them. He crowned Henry and then would give him nothing. They were all against him ... and he deserved it. Now, Princess Alais, you will remain in Winchester until I decide what shall become of you. We shall have to see whether your brother wishes to have soiled goods back in his Court.”
She shrank from me and I waved her away.
I gave orders that she was not to be allowed to leave Winchester. Then I went to London and summoned leading representatives of the Church and the nobility in order that they might swear fealty to the new King.