Here his ancestors had lived. The Conqueror had taken possession of it immediately after the Battle of Hastings and Edward’s great-grandfather, Henry II, had rebuilt the keep. Oh yes, it was undoubtedly a great moment when he passed into the castle.
The Queen was beside him but she had eyes only for her children, and was longing to discuss the state of Henry’s health with her mother-in-law.
There was a chill in the castle in spite of the fact that it was August. She, who had spent so long in warmer climates, noticed it, and her first reaction was to wonder whether Henry suffered from this cold.
In their apartments Edward turned to her.
‘Home at last, my love,’ he said. ‘I trust it will be long before we have to go on our travels again.’
She nodded. A forlorn hope. When had any King of England been allowed to live peacefully in England?
The Queen Mother came to them. Instinctively the Queen knew that her mother-in-law was eager to assert her power and to let them know that she was as important now as she had been when her husband was alive.
‘What joy it is to have you home,’ she cried. ‘The loyalty of the people was heart-warming.’
Edward looked at his mother a little cynically. There had been no cheers for her and their absence had been rather noticeable at times.
‘They are so happy to have you home and so they should be.’ Her eyes glistened. She was proud of having produced such a kingly son. ‘Why, Edward,’ she went on, ‘had I not seen you before, I should have known that you were the King. You stand out among all men.’
His wife nodded in agreement.
‘We must celebrate your return,’ went on the Queen Mother. ‘There must be a banquet in Westminster and then we shall have to prepare for the coronation.’
‘We will dispense with the banquet, my lady,’ said the King. ‘The coronation will be costly enough.’
‘Dear Edward, you must not forget you are now the King. You must act in a kingly fashion.’
‘That I intend to do. That is why I do not propose to squander the exchequer.’
The Queen Mother laughed aloud. ‘Your father would have given a most splendid feast,’ she said reproachfully.
‘I have no doubt. But I must go my own way. The coronation will be grand. The people expect that, and will be ready to pay for it. But there is no need to involve them in more expense than is necessary.’
The Queen Mother was sober. ‘Why, my son, what has happened to you during your travels? Your father …’
‘It distresses me to hear his name mentioned,’ said Edward. ‘I was never so unhappy as when I heard the news, but I tell you this, my lady: there will be no wasting of money on feasts. We shall concentrate at once on the coronation.’
His wife was proud of him. He was indeed kingly. He could even subdue his formidable mother. The Queen Mother lifted her shoulders helplessly.
‘The London merchants are rich. The Jews still flourish. They could easily be taxed …’
‘New taxes so early in a reign could tend to make a king very unpopular,’ said Edward. ‘I want to keep the people with me.’
He bowed to his wife and his mother and left the chamber.
The Queen Mother smiled lightly at the Queen.
‘He is anxious to show us he is the King,’ was her comment.
The Queen, who could be bold where her loved ones and her duty were concerned, retorted, ‘He is the King, Madam, and determined to rule well.’
‘His father never denied me anything. He always saw from my point of view.’
‘Edward will see from his own point of view.’
‘Of course he has been away so long. Perhaps it will be different when he has grown used to us all again.’
The Queen was silent for a few moments and then she said, ‘I am concerned about Henry.’
The Queen Mother’s face was immediately grave.
‘He is not strong,’ she admitted.
‘I was frightened when I saw him. I thought of little John …’
‘I have watched him constantly. I have seen that he eats what he should. My dear daughter, when he has been ill I have been at his bedside night and day.’
The Queen took the Queen Mother’s hand and pressed it warmly. ‘I know well how much you love him.’
‘The dear, dear child. He has been the centre of my life since the King went.’
‘I know it. But he is too thin. Too frail. I could have wept when I saw him.’
‘I feared it. The journey to Dover tired him.’
‘Perhaps he should not have made it.’
‘I feared to leave him behind. I do not think it is good for him to be aware of his weakness. It worries him and he tries to keep up with others.’
‘Was it so with little John?’
The Queen Mother nodded.
‘Oh, I could not bear it if …’
The Queen Mother said, ‘We must do everything that we can without calling attention to his weakness. I have had wax images of him burned at the shrines.’
‘And no good came of it?’ asked the Queen.
‘Sometimes he seemed to be stronger for a few days and then he was ill again.’
‘Perhaps we should hire some poor widows to perform vigils for his health.’
‘I fear that would call attention to his state.’
The Queen nodded. And the Queen Mother, all softness because the welfare of the family was in question, said gently, ‘Let us hope that now his mother is home he will grow out of his weakness. You know I had my anxious moments with Edward. I remember a time when we went to Beaulieu Abbey for the dedication of a church. He had a cough which worried me and during the ceremony he developed a fever. I insisted on keeping him at the Abbey and staying to nurse him. Oh what a pother there was! A woman sleeping in the Abbey! It was unheard of. It was offending the laws of God they said. I was ready to set aside the laws of God for my son I tell you. And stay I did and nurse him I did. I tell you this, my daughter, because you have only to look at Edward today. Can you ever believe that he was anything but a healthy child?’
‘You comfort me,’ said the Queen.
‘Let us hope that Henry will grow out of his delicacy as his father grew out of his.’
‘I intend to do everything possible to bring that about.’
‘You can depend on me to stand beside you.’
The Queen felt drawn towards her mother-in-law. It was true that the latter was extravagant and she understood through Edward that she had been responsible for much of King Henry’s unpopularity; but she was a woman whose unswerving loyalty to her family never wavered.
Whatever else she was, Eleanor of Provence gave the utmost devotion to her family.
The royal party must not linger at Dover. They must make their way to London or the Londoners would be displeased. As Edward remarked to the Queen, he could not afford to be unpopular in the capital. He had seen what that had done to his parents. There was a little tightening of his lips and the Queen was proud and pleased that he was determined not to allow his mother to rule him. She had been a little afraid that this might be the case, for she had seen the power of that determined woman and she knew full well that a strong bond of affection existed between them. But no, Edward was not going to forget he was the King and he would be the sole ruler of his country.
It was a joyful procession all along the route. Edward knew he must not pass too hurriedly. All his loyal subjects wished to see him and a great deal depended on first impressions. He must show them all – even the humblest – that he had their welfare at heart. At this time their loyalty was his and he must keep it so; he must remember that though he was the undoubted son and heir of the late King, the best of all claims to the throne came through the will of the people. That was a lesson he had learned through his father, whose example had taught him how a king should not behave towards his subjects. It seemed strange to him that loving his parents as he did he could see their faults so clearly.