The people of Aquitaine could not entirely accept him. They suspected that immense energy. He could be fierce in battle, and they were suspicious of him. They wanted Eleanor back. They understood her. They admired her elegance; and her adventurous spirit appealed to them. They had been cheated of their Duchess and although they had been assured that Richard was her beloved son they did not trust him any more than they trusted his father.
Therefore he needed help. The best thing that could have happened would have been for him to take his mother back with him.
That was something the King would not allow.
He sent for his two sons, Henry and Richard, and told them what he wished them to do.
He had solved two problems at one stroke.
Henry should accompany Richard to Aquitaine and help him keep order there.
Henry did not protest. His great desire was to get away from the leading strings which he declared his father had put him into. Once let him get away and put the sea between them, and he would be free.
So Eleanor went back to Salisbury and Richard prepared to sail for France. Before they left, Henry’s wife Marguerite went to Canterbury to pray at the shrine of St Thomas à Becket. She longed for a child and asked the saint to intercede for her.
Then the brothers with Marguerite left England.
Chapter IX
THE YOUNG KING
There was a difference of opinion between the brothers. Richard wished to return to Aquitaine as quickly as possible for the prospect of battle always excited him. But Henry was in no such hurry. He was free of his father, or so he believed, and he wanted to make the most of his good fortune.
Marguerite expressed her wish to see her own father and Henry said that before accompanying Richard to Aquitaine they would call on the King of France.
Louis received them with pleasure and as usual treated Henry as his own son. He loved all his children dearly and he always took great pleasure in the company of any of them. When he heard that Marguerite had been to Canterbury to pray at St Thomas’s Shrine, he applauded what she had done.
‘A saint whose death was one of the great tragedies of Christendom,’ he commented. ‘I shall never forget the day I heard of his murder. I am sure your prayers will be heard and answered.’
He himself gave special services for the couple and they were convinced that soon their great wish would be granted.
Young Henry took pleasure in the knowledge that if his father knew he had come to the King of France he would be furious. Although recently he had feigned affection for his father and had perhaps sometimes felt a little, now that he was no longer with him, all his resentment was aroused, and the hatred, revived, was as strong as ever.
He told Louis that they had seen their mother. Louis could never be quite indifferent to Eleanor and wanted to hear how she was faring under her imprisonment.
‘There is little change in her,’ Henry told the King.
‘She would come through any adventures unscathed,’ said Louis admiringly.
Henry then brought up the matter which his mother had suggested he bring to the notice of the King of France.
‘Richard envies us our married happiness,’ said Henry. ‘He is wondering when his bride will be given to him.’
‘I wonder that also,’ said Louis, frowning. ‘I do not understand why there should be this delay. Alice is now sixteen years of age. Surely that is an age for marriage.’
‘And Richard is almost twenty. It is only right that he should have his bride.’
‘Why should there be this delay?’ demanded Louis.
‘It is some devilment of my father’s,’ answered Henry. ‘Depend upon it.’
‘It makes no sense,’ said Louis. ‘The King of England wishes this marriage and so do I. Yet the Princess is kept at the Court of England and is neither returned to her father nor given to her husband.’
‘What do you intend to do about it?’ asked Henry.
‘It would seem that the King of England has some intentions which are not clear to us. I will send a messenger to the Pope and ask his help in the matter.’
Young Henry left the King of France and travelled to Poitiers, that beautiful capital city of Aquitaine set on a hill. It seemed to the young King that to go into battle was a foolish thing to do. There was so much which was more entertaining. Aquitaine, so called because of the abundance of springs, streams and rivers, was a beautiful land. In such well-watered territory there were many vineyards and the vegetation was lush indeed.
It was a land made for song and pleasure and to give oneself to fighting and discomfort was not young Henry’s idea of enjoyment. What was the use of being a king if one must continually be on the march and live in discomfort like a common soldier?
The fair city of Poitiers suited him and he would have liked to linger there, but Richard pointed out that they had not come to Aquitaine to pass the days in idleness. There was trouble in Angoulême and to Angoulême they must go.
Richard set out and Henry followed him, but he regretted leaving the city where he had had such a pleasant time; and as he was riding into Angoulême, he received a message from his old friend, Philip of Flanders.
Philip had, some time previously, sworn that he would go on a crusade to the Holy Land and Henry was surprised that he had not already embarked upon it. Philip wrote that he had a reason for remaining in Flanders which he would explain when they met. In the meantime he wanted Henry to join him and take advantage of a round of pleasure for he was staging a series of tournaments and he knew how Henry enjoyed such entertainments.
Henry wavered. He should, of course, stay with Richard, for his help would be needed and this was what his father had commanded. But Richard was capable of fighting his own battles as he was such a renowned warrior and why should he, crowned King of England, always have to consider what his father wanted? He soon convinced himself that he had every right to go where he wished and shortly after he received Philip’s message, he set out for Flanders.
Philip was delighted to see him and Henry enjoyed enumerating all the wrongs he had received at his father’s hands and declaring that he would never fall into them again.
He had been a puppet, nothing more.
Philip commiserated. It was monstrous that one who was a crowned King of England should be so treated.
‘My father greatly regrets he ever allowed the crown to be placed on my head.’
‘Then if he regrets such important acts which were performed at his bidding does it not show he is unfit to govern?’
The friends were in agreement.
Those were days of immense pleasure.
‘This is the life,’ cried Henry.
Tournaments were mock battles. They provided the utmost pleasure without the discomfort of war. Excitement and the ability to cut a fine figure were stressed. What could be more stimulating?
Philip of Flanders was greatly experienced in these affairs, and because he was such a skilled performer everyone watched him with awe and admiration. Henry longed to win such glories.
The arrival of Henry must be celebrated with a grand tournament, said Philip, and he sent heralds throughout the land to let all the knights know that they were invited to test their skill.