I wished I had been more dignified. What had taken place had bordered on a brawl.
Louis was upset. He said: “My mother is unhappy. She says you don’t want her at Court.”
“I have never said that,” I told him.
“She says she thinks she should go away.”
“Did she really say that?”
He nodded wretchedly. “I have tried to persuade her to stay but she is adamant.”
It seemed too good to be true. But it was not. A few days later Adelaide of Savoy left the Court. She said she thought there was no place for her there.
What a triumph! If only I could always rid myself of all my enemies so easily.
Louis was sad for a while. He hated conflict of any sort. But in time he seemed to forget it; and he bore no malice to me because of her departure.
I was amazed by my power over him. It was wonderful to be so cherished.
About this time there were murmurings of discontent in France. It was hardly to be expected that there would not be some malcontents. A king who had been much respected, and who, I know now, had been one of the best rulers France had ever had, had died leaving a young one in his place. Naturally there were some who believed they could take advantage of the situation.
Louis was panic-stricken. I felt annoyed with him. There were times when he seemed to forget that he was king. Much as I liked having a docile husband I did not want a poltroon.
“You will have to quell this revolt at once,” I told him.
“I thought of sending one of my generals with a few men.”
“One of your generals with a few men! Oh no! You must go yourself. You are the King. It is you who has to defend your realm. You must go at the head of your army.”
He looked dismayed. Poor Louis, he would be much happier on his knees before an altar or praying in a monk’s cell than leading an army. His early beginnings when Suger had molded him into a churchman had formed his nature—just as my upbringing in the Courts of Love had molded my character. He hated the thought of war, but he had to go. I insisted. France was my destiny now as much as it was his. If he did not put down this uprising, there would be more.
Because he could not bear that I should despise him he put on armor and went to Orlans.
I proved to have been right. The sight of him with the might of the army behind him settled the question. The people of Orlans meekly surrendered, gave up their leaders to the executioners and shouted: “Vive le Roi!” as Louis rode through the streets.
He returned to me triumphant. It had not been so difficult after all. He was sorry he had had to order that the leaders be executed, but that was what his generals had suggested should be done.
“They were right,” I said. “If you had allowed them to escape, any little town which thought it had a grievance would rise up against you. Oh, Louis, I am so proud of you. This is your first real test since you became king, and see, you have come right through with shining honor.”
I kissed him and told him how great he was and that it was nonsense to think he was not a soldier at heart. It was the duty of every king to defend his realm.
“I have no real feeling for it, Eleanor,” he said. “The thought of inflicting pain and death nauseates me.”
“You’ll grow out of that,” I assured him. “A king must be strong. The death of a few troublemakers is nothing compared with that of thousands which a war would bring about. You should rejoice in your action, for I do.”
So I soothed him.
One rebellion will often breed another. This one was particularly depressing because it took place in my own dominions ... and in Poitiers of all places, which I had always considered my home.
I suppose it should not have been so unexpected. Their Duchess had become Queen of France and they—a proud people, who had always known independence—were now under the sway of a foreign land, for that was what they considered France to be. They decided they would have none of it. They would throw off the yoke of the foreigner to whom they had been casually handed just because of their Duchess’s marriage to the King of France. They announced that they would rule themselves and set about forming a Poitevin government.
This seemed to me the height of disloyalty. I was very angry. I did not stop to consider how these people might be feeling. They had lived in a free and easy manner under their dukes. There had been the occasional riots but my grandfather and father had known how to settle them with the minimum of fuss. This was different. I was more than their Duchess now; I was the Queen of France, and when they rose in rebellion, it was against France as well as against me.
“They must be punished severely,” I said to Louis. “You must not be so lenient with them as you were in Orlans. You see, because you were not harsh enough, these people believe they can behave with impunity.”
“I did have the leaders executed,” he reminded me.
“It is not enough. You have to show these people that you are their master. Your father always did and people say he was a good king. The people appreciated him even though they did laugh at his fatness. You have to show them, Louis. It is no use being soft.”
That disastrous affair of the Poitiers rebellion, I can see now, looking back, was the beginning of the rift between us. Had I been older and wiser, I should have known that I could not hold him in thrall forever, because there were too many forces working against me. I thought I could because of my victory over Adelaide of Savoy, but she was of small account compared with Suger, that shriveled-up little man of humble origins, who had somehow risen to be the power behind the throne.
Louis rode off with his army. It was as easy a conquest as Orlans had been. The Poitevins had not been expecting him to come in such force. No doubt they had thought there would have been negotiations and some plan worked out. When they saw Louis and his army arriving, they immediately capitulated.
Louis then remembered my words. I knew he was anxious for me to think well of him. He would remember that he could not just meekly accept their submission and ride off again. I had impressed on him that he had to show them that this sort of rebellion was no light matter. Someone had to suffer for it.
He hated bloodshed but he knew he dare not return to me and say that he had forgiven them, merely disbanded their so-called government and declared all was over. He had an idea that he would take as hostages all the young men and women of Poitiers. They should be taken to France as exiles from their native land; and if ever any others felt they might rebel against him, they could remember what happened to those who did.
He named a day when all the young men and women were to assemble in the square prior to their departure for France.
It was not a wise thing to do. He should have executed the leaders of the revolt, but doubtless he remembered how contemptuous I had been of his previous mild action and that was why he had devised this plan.
The Poitevins were loud in their lamentations. To be robbed of their young was more than they could endure. They sent messengers all over the country appealing for help against this cruel sentence.
Suger was at this time at St. Denis, and it was not long before he heard what was happening. He saw at once the folly of this action and realized that it could bring the whole of Aquitaine to revolt against the King of France.
He immediately set out for Poitiers, where he was welcomed by the citizens, who knew he had come on their behalf.
I could imagine how easily he swayed Louis. He had been doing it all his life, and Louis was made for swaying, I thought contemptuously. I could hear that voice ... with the hint of the peasant in it, but perhaps all the more forceful for that. “This must be stopped, my son. This is folly. These people have suffered enough. Give them back their children.”