“Oh dearest Grandmother, I shall miss you so much.”
“We have been so happy together, have we not?” She nodded, her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Dear child, one of the saddest things in my life has been that I have not been able to stay long with those I loved.”
“I don’t know how I could have done all this without you,” she said. “I should have been terrified of going to the Court of France ... but I am not now. You have explained so much. You have done so much for me.”
“And you will never know what you have done for me, my child. You have helped me over the first stile, and I have put a little of my grief behind me.”
I took a sad farewell of Blanche and she left Bordeaux in the retinue of the Archbishop. Soon she would be in Paris and my mission accomplished.
I intended to rest a few days in Bordeaux to strengthen myself for the last lap of my journey.
Mercadier had joined me. I was rather moved. He had in fact had his own mercenary army, but when the news of my abduction by Hugh de Lusignan had come to him, he asked to be attached to my entourage because he wanted to make sure I was protected from any more such villainous attempts. I was delighted to receive him into my service.
It was Easter time. There were processions in the streets. I would sit at a window looking down. It was so comforting to wake in the morning and to know that I had not to hurry down and start another day’s long journey.
But soon I was ready to go on.
This time I should have the doughty Mercadier to look after me, which was as well, for we had to pass through the valley of the Charente where I might meet with dissatisfied vassals like the Lusignans.
A shock awaited me.
There had been a brawl in the streets. Two men had drawn their swords and fought and one of them had been killed. To my sorrow and dismay, I learned that one of them was Mercadier.
So I had lost my protector.
This further disaster made me realize afresh how I longed to be shut away from conflict.
I just wanted to be alone, to meditate, to rest my weary limbs, to write of the past, to relive it all again and to ask myself whether what had happened to me had been due largely to myself.
I wanted to go back to Fontevrault.
Fontevrault
I NOW LOOK FORWARD TO passing the days which are left to me in the peace I find at Fontevrault.
My granddaughter was married to Louis Capet; John was crowned King of England, and he must now be realizing his responsibilities. Philip Augustus continued to alarm me, and as long as I lived I would do my utmost to see that his dream of destroying the Plantagenet Empire was never realized.
The days were slipping away ... reading, writing, living over the past, reflecting on what might have been if one had acted differently. It was an amusing game.
John divorced Hadwisa of Gloucester. The marriage had never been a success. Henry had arranged it because of the immense wealth Hadwisa brought into the family, but that, of course, was before it was thought that John would be King. Hadwisa was childless, so the divorce was not a matter for regret.
However, John seemed incapable of doing anything without causing a great deal of trouble. In the first place he became infatuated with Isabella, the daughter of the Count of Angoulme. She was very young and very beautiful and she aroused such passions in John that he determined to have her. He would probably have abducted her if she had not been the daughter of a powerful man, but being so she was worthy of marriage.
Although he was bent on a union with her, he allowed negotiations to go ahead for the daughter of the King of Portugal. He thought that amusing. Another matter which gave him cause for mirth—and I must say I joined him in this—was that Isabella was betrothed to Hugh le Brun de Lusignan, the man who had had the temerity to seize me and demand La Marche for my release.
Of course the King of England was a far better proposition than Hugh le Brun, and the Count of Angoulme had little compunction in breaking Isabella’s engagement to Hugh le Brun and accepting John’s proposal for his daughter.
But what enemies John had made over this matter of his marriage! The King of Portugal and Hugh le Brun would never forgive him and would seize every opportunity for revenge; although I could not help feeling pleased about Hugh le Brun’s discomfiture, I did think that to alienate the King of Portugal was an act of sheer folly.
From my retreat I felt I could look out on events and that it would not be necessary for me to be caught up in them. But could I turn away? Sometimes I wondered to what end John’s folly would bring him. The care of such a wide empire had strained Henry’s resources to the full and he had been a great king. Richard had spent most of his reign out of England, and I had to admit that that had not been good; and now came John, with his reckless folly. Where would it end?
Constance had died. I hoped that meant that we should hear no more of Arthur’s claim. He was too young to do very much alone; and although he had his adherents, he was very much a figurehead only.
I felt we need not worry quite so much about Arthur ... for a year or so at any rate; and then most probably I should not be here. I could not expect to live many more years.
I had always had my eyes on the French King. I would never forget those years I had spent as Louis’s Queen; France had been my home for so long that I felt I was part of it.
I had always been aware of the fact that Philip Augustus was a man to watch. I recognized a clever ruler when I saw one and, for all his faults, Philip Augustus was that. In spite of the fact that he had been in love with Richard, he had never dreamed of neglecting his country on that account. He had married Isabella of Hainault, and his son Louis was now the husband of my own sweet Blanche.
Isabella had died and a marriage had been arranged for Philip Augustus with Ingeborg, a Danish princess, but after the marriage service he took an instant dislike to her and wanted her sent home. She appealed to Pope Celestine who ignored her pleas. I wondered what had brought about such a violent revulsion, for Philip Augustus had a great sense of duty to his country, and the object of this marriage was to provide heirs. In such cases when the encumbrance came from a not very influential family it was generally easy to find some reason for annulment; but Ingeborg had a powerful friend in Pope Celestine.
Philip Augustus had for some time been in love with Agnes de Meran and was now determined, in spite of papal disapproval, to marry her. Eventually he did this, but Celestine had now been replaced by Innocent who was ready to exert his authority. He threatened Philip Augustus with excommunication if he did not go back to Ingeborg; and faced with this Philip Augustus was obliged to take her back; but he kept Agnes with him. What would have been the outcome I cannot imagine if Agnes had not conveniently died. Philip wanted the children he had had by her legitimized and was now in consultation with Rome on this matter.
I was rather pleased about this, for it kept Philip Augustus occupied with his own affairs; I trembled to think what might become of Plantagenet possessions in France if he was able to give his full attention to the task of wresting them from us.
I was becoming more and more enamored of the life at Fontevrault. I was feeling better. The place refreshed me and I realized that I could be content to spend what was left of my life here. I liked the ways of the convent. It seemed a good idea to give myself up to good works. It was said to be a way of expiating past sins, and I daresay most would agree that during my long life I had committed many.
I seemed to have become a different woman; the fire of my youth had gone and had taken with it my love of adventure. I would never have believed that the day would come when I could be content with the quiet life and enjoy the peace of it.