After leaving Canterbury we came to St. Albans, and from there we went to Winchester where Richard was crowned again. That was a splendid ceremony.
There were certain castles which had been passed over to John because people believed that Richard was never coming back. These had to be retrieved. Those who had rallied to John were now required to come forth and beg forgiveness of Richard. He forgave them freely. Richard had never been really vindictive; he had been away for a long time, and they had thought him dead, he reasoned—well, they had given their allegiance to his brother because of this. If they gave it back to him, they would be forgiven for having strayed. It was understandable.
Then to Nottingham to receive more penitents.
Having traveled through England, he must now visit Normandy, where there had been a great deal of unrest. John was in France, and it would be as well to see him and let him know that, now his brother was back, there must be no more dallying with treason.
I was to be with him. I wanted to see the meeting between him and John. I greatly feared strife in the family.
I traveled down to Portsmouth with him, but although it was April the weather was too rough for a ship to sail, and we had to wait nearly three weeks before setting out.
Then to Caen first, where we planned our journey.
It was amazing and gratifying to see how those who had been ready to defect to John were only too happy to come back to Richard now they saw him. It might have been that John was getting such a terrible reputation that they had all been afraid to defy him. He was already showing himself to be cruel and sadistic, and naturally if he were about to be King they did not want to upset him.
John must now know that he was beaten. He came secretly to my apartments, for he wanted to see me alone, he said.
As soon as we came face to face, he fell on his knees and buried his face in my skirts.
I said to him coolly: “You thought it wise to come to me.”
“I have been a fool, dear Mother. Please understand. I meant no ill. But the country needed a king. I have been a wicked brother to Richard. You cannot blame me more than I blame myself.”
I said: “Get up. At least you admit your fault. Your brother Richard is the noblest of men. You should be proud to be his brother.”
“I am. I am.”
“And serve him with your life.”
“I will. I will.”
I was not so foolish as to believe him. He was repentant now because he was afraid of Richard, of course; and when the next opportunity to betray his brother came, he would seize it with both hands.
“I do not know what I must do to show my repentance,” he went on. “Perhaps I should run my sword through my heart.”
I fancied he was looking covertly at me to see what effect this statement had. I was scornful but I was thinking: There must be a reconciliation ... a public one. But we shall have to watch Master John. He is bound to be up to mischief sooner or later.
I said: “Get up off your knees and talk sense. As for taking your life, that is the coward’s way. I will not have any son of mine a coward.”
“But I have sinned. I should be punished. Richard hates me. You must hate me.”
“I think Richard does not respect you enough to hate you,” I said. “He looks upon you as his feckless young brother.”
John smirked. I think that was the impression he was trying to give.
“Mother,” he said. “Dearest Mother, please tell me what I must do.”
“Go now. I will speak to your brother. It may be that he will find it in his heart to forgive you. If he does, you will be fortunate. It would be something for you to remember if ever you felt inclined to play the traitor again.”
“I swear to God ...”
“I should not if I were you. Those who break their vows to men are treacherous, those who break them to God much worse.”
He went away and I thought a great deal about him. I had never liked him. I remembered always that it was at the time of his birth that I discovered I no longer loved Henry, and I had resented the fact that I was pregnant with his child. Perhaps I had been at fault. I had sent him to Fontevrault. I had given all my love to the other children—particularly Richard—and there had been none to spare for John.
Now I saw him clearly—ambitious, avaricious, self-seeking, sensual as his father was; but there was something sadistic about John which had never been there in Henry. We should have to be careful of John. Naturally I did not believe in his repentance but I should have to pretend to. We had to break John’s friendship with the King of France. We could not have brother against brother.
I told Richard my feelings in the matter.
“He is coming to ask your forgiveness. You must give it to him, Richard.”
“Willingly.”
“No, not too willingly, but for the sake of expediency. Never forget that, if the opportunity arose, he would betray you. But let it be thought publicly that you are good friends.”
I was present at the reconciliation scene. John went to his brother and threw himself at his feet. He would have given quite a good performance but he was always inclined to overact.
He seized Richard’s legs and gazed up at his brother.
“I deserve to be punished,” he said. “Punish me, Richard. Devils possessed me. How could I behave so to a brother I hold in such great honor ... as does the whole world. I am so proud of you, Richard. I would I could be more like you.”
“It was evil counselors, not devils,” said Richard. “You are young, and the young fall easily into the scheming hands of unscrupulous men. Come. Do not grovel there. Stand up.”
John did, and Richard kissed him.
There was peace between the brothers.
There was still no mention of Berengaria.
I brought up the matter again. “You are thirty-six years old, Richard. It is time you had a son.”
“I have many years left to me.”
“That is what I pray for. But you should have children by now. If you do not live with your wife how can you get legitimate sons?”
“She shall come here.”
“When?”
“When I have settled Normandy. There is much to do here, Mother.”
Later he said he thought we should send for Arthur.
“Why?” I asked.
“So that he learns to speak English and becomes accustomed to our ways.”
“You mean ... because he may be the future King?”
“It is a possibility.”
“Can you imagine the conflict? Do you think John would allow that to happen without a fuss?”
“John is young and headstrong.”
“All the more reason why we should be careful.”
“That is why I believe it would be a good idea to send for Arthur. People should get to know him. He is a handsome boy, I believe.”
I knew in my heart that one of my hardest tasks would be to get Berengaria and Richard together.
I was an old woman, and the agony of Richard’s captivity had taken its toll of me. Now that Richard was home and was taking over the reins of government, I needed a rest—if only a temporary one.
I had always been interested in Fontevrault. It seemed to hold the very essence of peace within its walls. I told Richard that I intended to go there and stay for a while. He thought it an excellent idea and encouraged me in this. I would be close at hand if needed.
I felt as near contentment as I could be there. Richard, my beloved son, was safe and well, and the only regret he gave me was the avoidance of his wife. I understood that the state of marriage did not appeal to him. It was difficult to understand why he—who appeared to be the very essence of manliness—should have what was almost an aversion to women ... not as women, of course, but as a sexual attraction. No two could have been closer than he was to me. But nature is strange—and so it was. If only he had been the father of sons, so that my mind could have been at rest and I could visualize a safe Plantagenet empire, I could have been a very contented woman.