And now my father, in his weakened state, was reaching out to me. I felt strong, important. Aquitaine was going to be mine.
My father sent for me. He told me with some humility that he had not meant to hurt me. He thought I was wonderful. Many of the young men at Court admired me, looked up to me as an ideal. That pleased him. He, too, venerated me. He knew that I was no ordinary girl. He was proud of me.
“And yet you would replace me by some sickly boy!”
“I merely feel that a son would be more acceptable to the people. I have not thought enough of my people, Eleanor. There is no reason why the boy should be sickly.”
“You are becoming old now. I believe the age of its parents has an effect on a child. Here am I strong and healthy, the daughter of your youth. I can read and write with ease; I can reason. Rest assured I shall be fit to govern when the time comes.”
“I doubt it not. But the people want to look to a man.”
“Where will you find this bride?”
“I must look for her.”
“Then I suppose you will go on a pilgrimage to some shrine or other to pray for a fertile wife.”
“A pilgrimage,” he said slowly. “Perhaps I should go on a pilgrimage.”
I thought: If it is going to stop these thoughts of marriage, yes, certainly you should go.
I said: “You have been deeply disturbed by what has happened to you in the church. You need to make your peace with God before you think of marriage.”
He stared at me incredulously. “By all the saints, I believe you are right.”
He had made up his mind. He would go on a pilgrimage; he would earn complete forgiveness for his past sins; he would find favor in the eyes of God. He would go not as a great ruler but as the humblest pilgrim without splendor of any sort; his garment should be a sackcloth robe; he would endure all the hardships of a long journey; and the more discomfort he endured the more quickly his sins would be wiped away. He would return to Aquitaine in triumph, and God would give him a fruitful bride.
Being headstrong, as he always had been, when he came to a hasty decision he found it hard to wait to put it into action; and when what he thought of as a great opportunity came, he was ready to seize it.
Emma, daughter of the Viscount of Limoges, had been married to Barden of Cognac who had recently died. The heiress of Limoges seemed to my father an excellent bride. He became convinced that God had removed Barden of Cognac to show him, William, the way.
He did not stop to assess the situation. He talked of the honor he was about to bestow on Limoges, for the Limousin was a vassal state to Aquitaine. He forgot that there had been a great deal of friction between the two states in the past; he believed that now he was a changed man, everyone’s attitudes must change toward him.
The last thing the people of the Limousin wanted was to come under the direct rule of Aquitaine; and there were others who did not wish to see Aquitaine become more powerful and who would do a great deal to prevent William’s marrying Emma.
They managed very skillfully and prevailed on the Count of Angoulme to abduct Emma. He came in strength and took her from her home as Philip of France had taken Bertrade and my grandfather Dangerosa; and that settled the matter. My father’s attempt to marry Emma of Limoges had failed.
He seemed to regard this as another expression of God’s displeasure and was sunk in melancholy. He continued feverishly to make plans for his pilgrimage. He was anxious for me to know that he still loved me dearly. I was sure that he did so more than he could any sons even though they possessed the magic quality of masculinity.
I was angry with him, and I should have been more so if I had believed he was going to achieve his purpose. First he had to make the pilgrimage, and that was going to take some time. He was not in especially good health, and the hardships he would have to endure would surely not act as a restorative. Then he had to find a bride and she must be fruitful. I was not one to anticipate disaster, and I think at that age I had an unshakable belief in myself and my destiny.
Preparations took some time. He explained to me that for a man in his position there was a great deal to arrange; and I was his main concern.
“I?” I cried, “It would seem to me that I am your least concern since you plan to replace me with a more desirable heir.”
He was distressed. “Eleanor,” he said severely, “you will have to learn to curb your temper.”
“My temper, my lord! Have I not been extremely accommodating? I have helped you with your plans when, if they are successful, they will culminate in my loss!”
“Do not see it that way. You are my great concern. Much as I wish to go to the shrine of St. James, I am constantly plagued by my fears of what will happen to you.”
“The answer is simple. Give up the idea of the pilgrimage and sons. If I am worthy of your concern, surely a better fate should be found for me than to be packed off in marriage.”
“Packed off in marriage! My dear girl, your marriage shall be the most brilliant in Europe. That is what I wish to talk about. Louis ...”
“The fat one or his son?”
“Both, my dear. Louis is a fine fellow. When his brother died, he stepped into his shoes with the greatest of ease.”
“Can that be true of one who was trained to be a priest?”
“Sons of kings have their duty to perform and they must take whatever comes to them.”
I wondered about Louis. I had for some time, for it was no news to me that, if all went well and we did not displease the King of France, there might be a match between me and his eldest son. I did not know how far my father had offended him over this matter of Innocent and Anacletus, but presumably Aquitaine would be a big enough prize for such matters not to be an irrevocable handicap.
I had discovered all I could about the Court of France since I had heard that I might well one day marry into it. I was fascinated by the reputed size of the King. He had grown so large through excessive eating and drinking that it was difficult for him to move about. In his youth he had been tireless and excelled in all physical exercise. I suppose this had developed his appetite, which continued to be large when he was less active. In spite of this foolhardy indulgence, he was a wise man and a shrewd ruler. He had always been on friendly terms with Aquitaine until this unfortunate matter of the Popes had arisen. I think he probably wanted a match with us as much as we with him.
Now that my father had repented, friendship between the two was resumed. But I was not sure whether the union between myself and the heir to the crown of France would be so attractive if he discovered that my father was contemplating marriage. As the sister of the ruler of Aquitaine, I would be a much less desirable match than its Duchess would have been.
I had always imagined that my husband would be Philip but a strange thing had happened. He had been killed when out riding. It was so sudden that it was almost like an act of God. Philip had been riding through Paris when a pig had run under his horse’s legs. He had been thrown clear, hitting his head on a stone wall; he had died instantly.
This was so unusual, so unexpected, that people said it was “meant.”