Queens of the crusades, p.30
Queens of the Crusades, page 30
There was actually no need for Henry to reinforce his alliance with the Empire; his sister Isabella was about to marry the Emperor Frederick II. But what Louis IX had, Henry III wanted. He foresaw—as did his approving councilors—that marriage to the sister of the Queen of France would bring England and France closer together. The Pope and King Louis were to endorse the match for the same reason, and because it would strengthen Provence against the aggression of its territorial rival, neighboring Toulouse. Raymond VII was Henry’s first cousin and ally and could hardly attack Provence if its count was allied to Henry by marriage. What Henry failed to appreciate was that the Emperor supported Raymond VII in his ongoing border warfare with Ramon Berenger and was not likely to look kindly on the marriage.
Henry quickly made up his mind to pursue the alliance with Provence. “It was the younger virgin of this most lovely race whom the King of England sought as his wife through [his] ambassadors.” On June 22, 1235, he sent “most solemn and prudent men into Provence on a discreet mission to Count Ramon with letters expressing his most heartfelt desire to contract marriage with the Count’s daughter, Alienor.”2 The solemn and prudent men were led by Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln.
That same day, Henry wrote to Alienor’s Savoyard uncles, Count Amadeus and Bishop William, assuring them that he was interested in cementing their friendship by marrying their niece, and asking for their help in bringing about the match. He informed them that, although he had married another lady, he had discovered that there was an impediment to that union. William now deployed his diplomatic skills to bring about as prestigious a match for Alienor—who had been present at her sister’s wedding and coronation—as Marguerite’s had been.
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“Count [Ramon] was a famous man and a vigorous warrior.” He had even climbed the Alps. But, “because he was constantly fighting, nearly all his treasure had flown to the winds.”3 He had been caught up in the Albigensian Crusade, a Papal initiative against Provençal Cathar heretics, which led to the founding of the Inquisition. Defending his lands had left Ramon impoverished. Yet “a wise and courteous lord was he, and of noble state and virtuous, and in his time did honourable deeds.”4
Ramon had been born in 1205, making him only seventeen at the time of Alienor’s birth. He had become count of Provence on the death of his father in 1209. In 1219, at fourteen, he was married to twelve-year-old Beatrice, daughter of Thomas, Count of Savoy, “a lady of remarkable beauty, gracious mien, wise and affable.” Beatrice bore twin boys, who died at birth in 1220, and four daughters. The two younger girls were Sanchia (born 1228) and Beatrice (born 1229/31), who was her father’s favorite because she showed him the greatest affection. All inherited Beatrice’s looks. “There was no mother in all the world, in all the female sex, who had such a fruitful womb and could boast such beautiful daughters.”5 Through their marriages, these “four daughters, each one of them a queen,”6 were to establish a pattern of political and cultural kinship that stretched across Europe from England to Sicily.
In June 1235, according to Matthew Paris, Alienor was “already twelve” years of age. Paris also stated that she had scarcely completed her fourteenth year when she married Henry in January 1236, which suggests a birthdate late in 1222. Her name is usually given as Eleanor, but Alienor is the Provençal version that appears in some charters and official documents and has been used here to differentiate her from her future daughter-in-law, Eleanor of Castile.
The county of Provence lay between Savoy and the Mediterranean. It was a golden land of sun-drenched summers, fortified hilltop villages, Romanesque churches, fields of flowers, lavender and olive trees, rocky outcrops and mountains. Aix-en-Provence, Avignon and Arles were its chief cities. Count Ramon’s principal seat was Tarascon on the River Rhône; he wintered in Aix-en-Provence and spent his summers at the palace of Brignoles, which he gave to his wife on their marriage. He also owned the castle at Les Baux, which stood on a high crag south of Avignon.
Alienor’s native tongue was Occitan. She was “very fair to behold”7 and was called “la Belle.” She grew up in a court famous for its courtly literature, music, poetry and tournaments. In Provence, the legends of King Arthur were popular. It was said that another hero, Charlemagne, had bequeathed the county to the poets, and troubadours were welcomed like lords by Ramon Berenger, whose grandfather, Alfonso II of Aragon, had himself been a great poet. Ramon and Beatrice were also poets, a talent they shared with Romeo de Villeneuve, a poor man who had been received into the Count’s household and shown himself trustworthy and able. The poet Dante Alighieri referred to “the shining light of Romeo,” whom Ramon appointed tutor to Alienor to teach literacy skills and verse.
Alienor was influenced not only by the vibrant Provençal culture, but by religious mentors who inspired her and her sisters, fostering their piety and shaping them into generous benefactresses of the Church. It was clearly a happy childhood, given her closeness to her family in later life.
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Henry’s envoys “were welcomed by Count Ramon with the utmost honour and courtesy,”8 and negotiations for the alliance proceeded.
Referring to the sisters’ marriages, Dante stated that “this grandeur all by poor Romeo had accomplished been.” Romeo de Villeneuve was now head of the Count’s household and a key figure in the negotiations. A letter of Queen Marguerite’s implies that she too had been instrumental in bringing about Alienor’s marriage, although she may have overstated her role, since she was very much in the shadow of her mother-in-law, Queen Blanche, and would remain so until the latter’s death in 1252. But no one had to use much persuasion. Ramon willingly agreed to the King’s proposal. Henry’s returning envoys assured him that Alienor was of handsome appearance. At that, he made up his mind. On July 16, he recalled his ambassadors from Rome, instructing them that they were no longer to press for a dispensation for his union with Joan of Ponthieu. There was uncertainty as to how the French would react, but when William of Savoy asked King Louis for a safe-conduct for Alienor to travel to England through France, it was granted. Evidently Queen Blanche saw this alliance as a lesser threat than that with Joan of Ponthieu. Three years later, she would arrange for her kinsman, Ferdinand III, King of Castile, to marry Joan.
Henry appointed proctors and instructed them to secure as large a dowry as possible. When they departed on October 6, they carried with them six different letters asking for amounts descending from 20,000 marks (£9,800,000)—twice Marguerite’s dowry—to 3,000 marks (£147,000). Ramon balked at the sum of 20,000 marks; he had so far been able to pay only one fifth of Marguerite’s dowry. He also expressed concern about the inadequate dower Henry proposed to settle on Alienor during the lifetimes of Queen Berengaria and Queen Isabella, whose dowers he also had to fund. The King had promised to dower Alienor with “the cities and holdings which were usually delivered by my predecessors, the kings of England, to the queens of England.”9 These, however, were in Queen Isabella’s hands.
The King’s envoys lowered his demand, in turn, to 15,000 marks, 10,000 marks, 7,000 marks, 5,000 marks and, finally, 3,000 marks. In fact, Henry was so keen to marry Alienor that, on October 19, he instructed his envoys “to conclude the marriage forthwith, either with money or without, but, at all events, to secure the lady for him and conduct her safely to England without delay.” In the end, Ramon agreed to pay a dowry of 10,000 marks (£4,900,000), the same sum Louis IX had received with Marguerite.
Because of this haggling over the dowry, the marriage contract was not signed until November 23. The proxy wedding went ahead that same day at the castle of Tarascon. In December, Alienor left Arles. Her father and William of Savoy headed her escort of “more than 300 horsemen [and] a large number of attendant followers,”10 including several cousins and relations, all looking to profit from her marriage. Among those in her personal train were the Lady Guillelma (or Willelma) de Attelis, who had looked after her since her childhood and would continue to serve her in England.
The bride’s party traveled north overland, with crowds following in great numbers. On December 15, they reached Vienne, where William of Savoy, as dean of the cathedral, confirmed the terms of the marriage contract.
Henry “celebrated Christmas joyfully at Winchester, awaiting with burning anticipation the arrival of his envoys”11 with news of the coming of his bride. In January 1236, he sent the bishops of Ely and Hereford and the Master of the Temple across the English Channel to convey Alienor to England.
She and her retinue were feasted for several days by Theobald IV “the Troubadour,” Count of Champagne and King of Navarre, who “went out joyfully to meet them and accompanied them as a guide through his dominions, during a journey of five days and more. He also, being generous by nature, bore their expenses in horses and men.”12 At the end of their visit, Count Ramon bade farewell to Alienor and rode back to Provence, leaving her in the care of William of Savoy.
Theobald escorted Alienor and her retinue to the French border, where King Louis, Queen Marguerite and Queen Blanche were waiting to receive them. They learned that “their passage was not only free, but honourable,” for the royal party escorted them to the coast and entertained them. Alienor may have noticed that Queen Blanche, jealous of the younger Queen, kept Marguerite strictly supervised, and that Marguerite resented this. She and Louis were clearly happy together, but Blanche kept them apart as much as she could. Alienor was doubtless relieved that her future mother-in-law was miles away in Poitou.
Alienor and her train “embarked at the port of Wissant, hastened across the sea with rapid course and reached the port of Dover sooner than was expected. They landed safely around 10 January, and proceeded to Canterbury, where, four days later, the King hastened to them and rushed to embrace his returning ambassadors.”13
Thirteen-year-old Alienor found her twenty-eight-year-old future husband to be a stocky man of about five foot six with a narrow forehead and a drooping eyelid. He was gentle in manner, kind, affectionate and generous. Only occasionally did he have flashes of the famous Plantagenet temper, as when he ripped the clothes off one jester and tipped another into the Thames.
Henry was delighted with his beautiful dark-haired bride. Many portraits or images of him, Alienor and other royal persons in stone, glass or metal were commissioned in the thirteenth century. Sadly, most are lost. Alienor’s stone head surmounts a roof boss by the entrance to the Chapter House of Westminster Abbey, with a companion head of Henry III on the other side; there are roses of Provence in the moldings. Other heads said to represent Alienor can be seen in Ditchling Church, Sussex, the north porch of Bridlington Priory (perhaps inspired by a royal visit to York in 1251), the church of the Holy Cross at Sherston, Wiltshire, and Much Wenlock Church, Shropshire, where Henry and Alienor were guests on several occasions. The queen with a hawk on her wrist who appears in the thirteenth-century floor tiles of the Chapter House in Westminster Abbey may also represent Alienor.
“Having seen the damsel and welcomed her and accepted her for himself,” Henry gave gifts of gold to Alienor and her train. The wedding in Canterbury Cathedral immediately followed, the ceremony being performed by Edmund Rich, Archbishop of Canterbury, “assisted by the bishops who had arrived with the damsel, in the presence of many magnates, nobles and prelates.”14 A drawing of the couple survives in Matthew Paris’s Historia Anglorum, showing a diminutive Alienor next to a much taller Henry. The gap of more than three years between the wedding and the birth of their first child suggests that the marriage was not consummated immediately. Alienor later held strong views on marriages being consummated too soon, urging that her granddaughter was too young at thirteen to be wed.
Henry had spared no expense on Alienor’s coronation because he wanted to underline the importance of this marriage alliance. On January 19, the King and Queen made a state entry into London. Thanks to Matthew Paris, who was present, we have the first detailed description of the coronation of an English queen.
There were assembled at the King’s nuptial festivities such a host of nobles of both sexes, such number of religious men, such crowds of the populace and such a variety of actors that London, with its capacious bosom, could scarcely contain them. The whole city was ornamented with silks and banners, chaplets and hangings, lights and torches, with wonderful devices and extraordinary representations, and all the roads were cleansed from mud and dirt and everything offensive. The citizens went out to meet the King and Queen, dressed out in their ornaments.
There were “many pageants” and “in the night, the city was [lit] with lamps, cressets and other lights without number.”
Henry escorted Alienor to the Palace of Westminster, where her chamber, which overlooked the River Thames, had just been redecorated and adorned with historical paintings.
For her coronation, he gave her a great golden crown set with gems, costing £1,500 (£1,100,000), a rich mantle lined with ermine, nine garlands or chaplets for her hair, all of gold filigree and precious stones, and jeweled girdles of gold; in total, he spent £30,000 (£14,7000,000). Queen Marguerite had sent her sister a perfume bottle in the form of a silver peacock with a tail set with precious stones and sapphires.
On Sunday, January 20, the chief citizens of London proceeded to Westminster “dressed in silk garments with mantles worked in gold, mounted on valuable horses to the number of 360, gallantly trapped with new bits and saddles and riding in troops arranged in order, every man bearing a cup of gold or silver in his hand. The King’s trumpeters led the way, with horns sounding,” which “struck all who beheld it with astonishment.”
Beneath a purple silk canopy borne by sixteen barons of the Cinque Ports, the King walked to Westminster Abbey along a carpet of blue ray (a striped fabric), wearing his crown and his coronation robes. “The nobles performed the duties which, by ancient right and custom, pertained to them at the coronations of kings. John the Scot, Earl of Chester, carried the sword of St. Edward, which was called Curtana, before the King, [and] kept the people away with a wand when they pressed forward in a disorderly way.” Gilbert, the Earl Marshal, holding his wand of office, preceded the King into the abbey.
Alienor came next, beneath her own canopy of estate, and was supported on either side by two bishops. At the door to the abbey, she paused while prayers were offered up to the Virgin Mary that she might be fruitful, then proceeded up the nave. In “a ceremony of unparalleled splendour,” she was anointed on the head with holy oil and crowned queen “with incomparable solemnity” by the Archbishop of Canterbury. The prayers he recited reminded her of her duty to emulate not only the Virgin Mary, but also the Biblical women Rebecca and Rachel, who had borne sons to carry on the line of King David. Henry, watching the ritual, “sat on his throne and glittered very gloriously” in his robe of gold tissue.
Afterward, the King and Queen walked along a carpet of striped English burel (felt)—the longest ever yet seen in England—to Westminster Hall. The Earl Marshal had arranged the banquet. Guests were amazed at “the dainties of the table, the overflowing richness of many wines, the profusion of meats and dishes, the abundance of game, the variety of fish, the joyous sounds of the gleemen, the gaiety of the jugglers, the comeliness of the attendants.”15 At the high table, William de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, acting as butler and cupbearer, tasted the wine in the royal goblets before offering it to the King and Queen. When he gave Alienor hers, she rose and bowed to the company, at which everyone stood, clinked cups and cheered three times for the royal couple.
As soon as Henry and Alienor had returned to the palace, there was a scuffle between the doorkeepers and scullions for the golden cloth that had hung behind the high table, which ended up torn in pieces. The doorkeepers then fought the cooks for the leftover food.
On her coronation day, in emulation of the Virgin enthroned next to Christ, Alienor interceded with the King for a felon who had infringed the forest laws, and secured a pardon for him. The ceremony may have been stage-managed, but, over the long years ahead, she would make many such successful intercessions, even for those who had committed murder. A queen’s plea for mercy demonstrated her influence; it showed the gentler face of monarchy and was likened to the light of dawn that scatters the errors of discord. It also provided the King with a pretext for showing clemency when it would otherwise have looked weak to do so. Possibly it was already customary for a Queen to make intercessions on her coronation day, as it was traditional for her to receive petitioners after she had given birth.
In the eight days that followed, “royal solemnities and goodly jousts” were held in Tothill Fields by Westminster. Henry had emptied his treasury to pay for the wedding and the coronation. The people of London and the barons had “amply supplied funds” for his marriage, but, when he asked the lords to approve a tax on all his subjects’ property to make up the shortfall, they refused, saying that, as he had wasted the money on unnecessary extravagances, he should defray the expenses of his wedding as best he could.
2
“Our Dearest Love”
Torrential rains marked Alienor’s first weeks as queen. The Thames burst its banks at Westminster and the palace was flooded, obliging the King to take her to Winchester. It was a far cry from sunny Provence. Yet there were compensations. This was a royal marriage in which love quickly flowered. Henry was a true, devoted, even uxorious husband, happy in his domestic life—a family man in every sense; and Alienor, who had a strong sense of family loyalty, was to prove a loving and fiercely supportive wife. He adored her; even in the dry language of the official records, she is frequently referred to as his “dearest love” or “beloved love.”
