England and France: Sibling Rivalry

By Erica Lainé

Robert and Isabelle Tombs wrote a book* - which begins in the 1600s, charting the relationship between England and France - called That Sweet Enemy, a quote from a 1591 sonnet by Sir Philip Sidney: ‘That sweet enemy, France.’ But there were quarrels, bitter and sweet, long before this.

The First Hundred Years War

The 100 Years War, lasting from 1337 to 1453, has been the subject of much in-depth research and critical analysis. Some French historians refer to an earlier period from 1154 to 1259 as the First 100 Years War. When Eleanor of Aquitaine, newly divorced from the French heir Prince Louis, married Henry of Anjou in 1152, this marriage set in train a relationship between England and France that was almost that of siblings. Henry became King of England in 1154 and ruled over that vast land mass from the borders with Scotland to the Pyrenees, with Aquitaine sitting like a very rich plum in the middle of the pie.


This did not make for an easy relaxed partnership between the two crowns.  Instead it was a relationship full of petty squabbles, some periods of savage fighting and frequent competition. The English and the French shared a feudal Christian heritage during the Middle Ages and had overlapping areas of influence, especially as the English kings, the Anglo-Angevins, tried to hold onto their lands in continental France. So a common heritage, but where they differed was in the size of the domains held and wealth and power. Their main interactions were based on trade and war.

In France the Capets held the île de France and relied on surrounding counties, Champagne, Burgundy, Blois and Flanders for support. France was not unified by allegiances to the centre or indeed by language and culture. Power was shared out among many feudal lords and some of these had very divided loyalties. From time to time each monarch tried to enlist the support of his rival’s men; local risings were stirred up against both the English and French kings. 

Further problems were caused by English nobles who held lands in France and swore loyalty to the French king but were called upon by their English overlord to fight against him. There was no unified state in the modern sense. Power was fragmented amongst this melange of feudal lords. Monarchs could not command direct authority over them; local dukes and counts or major towns owed the king, as their overlord, a duty of obedience but within their own territories they could act as independent rulers. When a king managed to get most of the big players on his side, they would support him; if not they could and frequently did rebel. Especially when they felt he or his officials were encroaching too much on their independence. 

And the problem of loyalty existed for the king himself. As English monarchs also had titles and lands within France, these possessions made them vassals to the kings of France. They had to swear fidelity to the French king as a duke of those lands, not as the King of England but as, for example the Duke of Normandy. Normandy was a huge sticking point and in May 1200, King John and Philippe Augustus signed a treaty at Le Goulet in an attempt to end the war over the duchy and to draw up new borders. Philippe now had a legal right over the English king’s lands but not over Aquitaine, which was still held by John as heir to Eleanor of Aquitaine.  

By 1202 the two kings were at loggerheads as Philippe had summoned John to answer charges brought against him by the Lusignans and John had refused to attend the court. He argued that as a king he did not need to answer such commands. Philippe replied that he summoned him as vassal duke of France and deposed him of his fiefs and went to war for Normandy. He was successful and Normandy was lost in 1204.

South West France: A Rebellious Region 

South West France from just below the Loire to the Pyrenees was not a heavily populated region. Aquitaine was a confusing collection of a dozen or so counties. Few towns of any significant size existed before 1200. But there was a growing sense of power and independence and many castles and fortified churches (which can be seen to this day) were built by forceful local lords and bishops.

Siorac de Riberac 

Who owned the Poitou? It was complicated. John seems to have agreed that it belonged to his mother and that it was hers to have and to hold forever. In May 1199 after he inherited the English crown, she ceded it to him as ‘her right heir’ and received his homage for it.  She made over to him the rights to govern and the fealty of its vassals. But one month later she also met Philippe and he had allowed her make homage to him for the Poitou, and this act formally recognised her as its lawful countess. Eleanor was determined to be the person legally responsible for the Poitou as far as the king of France was concerned. Perhaps she knew that the region would not be as loyal to her son as it was to her. The Poitevins had been described by William Marshal as ‘scheming traitors.’

Poitiers was Eleanor’s stronghold, a well-fortified town and always dominant. Further south control moved from Périgeuex to Angoulême and Thouars. Among the powerful local lords were the Lords of Lusignan and this map shows how their influence grew. 

 

Draft map - John and Erica Lainé

Their story is almost archetypical for the region. Swerving loyalties, savage raids on towns that stood out against them, grasping at charters and taxes and tolls, brutal ambushes, lies and treachery. In 1220 Hugh Lusignan married the widow of King John, Isabella of Angoulême thus binding himself to Henry III as his step-father. Except he was only loyal when it suited him. They were both happy to turn away to the French king when it didn’t and as the French could offer far more in the way of cash, betrothals and promises of more land the swerving allegiance paid well.

The Poitou was eyed by the Capets as a region they wanted under their control and King Louis VIII (who as Prince Louis had been invited, in 1215, to take the English throne at the time of the Barons’ War) decided in 1224 to ride down from Bourges and take it. Louis mopped up every Poitevin town with ease and besieged La Rochelle, which looked in vain to England for support. 

When Henry III decided to campaign in 1230 to take back the Poitou he was helped and encouraged by the Duke of Brittany, and other rebellious French lords who were intent on unseating Blanche of Castile, a formidable mother to a young King Louis IX. Henry’s campaign meandered down the Poitou to Bordeaux and back again and achieved nothing except expense and loss of life to disease, most likely malaria as the Vendée was marshy and the army marched through here in the height of the summer.  

Battle of Taillebourg:  Delacroix 1834: public domain

In 1242 Henry tried again to retake the Poitou and safeguard Gascony, his mother and step father had called on him for help as their independence was severely threatened by the Capets. They had invested King Louis’s brother Alphonse, as Count of Poitou and called for all kinds of allegiances to be sworn and homages made. This was another disastrous campaign ending in the Battle of Taillebourg, which Henry lost.  

The Poitou was now firmly part of the newly expanded France. Henry retreated to Bordeaux and was determined to hold onto Gascony and the lucrative wine trade.

 

The relationship between England and France continued to be uneasy until the Treaty of Paris in 1259. Henry III held Gascony and pockets of the Poitou and it was as Duke of Gascony and King of England that he negotiated. His resources seemed to be eternally limited though and at one stage he pawned the crown jewels to fund an expedition to put down strife in Gascony.  

Two Kingdoms: One Problem, Two Solutions 

For both the kings of France and England there was a similar difficult situation. However much they might desire to wage a major war, a king’s private income could not finance a costly war. 

The English kings’ problem was maintaining an army across the sea in France and having access to safe ports. The ports in Normandy were lost after John’s defeat. La Rochelle remained a safe haven until Louis took it, thus depriving Henry III of a landing place for easy excursions into the Poitou. Unless the Duke of Brittany was paid great sums of money, St Malo would be a place of unwelcome piracy and raids. It was a long and difficult voyage to sail down the Bay of Biscay to Royan or the mouth of the Gironde. Knights, soldiers, provisions and horses had to be carried by ship. Mercenaries had to be paid.  All of this was very expensive. 

When Henry III inherited an almost bankrupt kingdom he struggled to find money to regain those lost French lands.  A king who was now relying on contributions from the magnates and the church and who had to persuade, but not coerce them, or face rebellion.  Raising money for warfare by imposing a new tax meant asking a nascent parliament for agreement.  Often the council was reluctant to do so, unless they were convinced that the war was of benefit to them, and held out for concessions. Gradually this became how the king and his circle, the king and the magnates conducted policy. It had all the ingredients to make for a belligerent and acrimonious relationship. This tussle led to the beginnings of a political system where the centres of power, nobles, the Church, the king and his advisers would determine their differences in the context of parliament. 

In France the problem was in reverse. The campaigns were fought on its soil and the towns and villages and people suffered. It became easier for French kings to justify taxes to raise armies and maintain them, even if lords and knights would only give their 40 days of service before returning home. The king asked for aid and it was very rarely refused. Louis IX had a healthy annual revenue of between £200,000 and £250,000 parisi. During his reign the monetary system in France consolidated and stabilised. His father and grandfather had been prudent and managed to have sons who did not quarrel within the family or turn against them. 

Taxes were collected year after year without there necessarily being a war to justify the imposition and without the necessity for an assenting vote. The church and the French kings also tended to be in agreement most of the time, which kept the balance of power firmly with the king. 

The several wars that made up the First 100 years War and The 100 Years War paved the way for the French kings to build a very central and absolute monarchy. 

Two Kings, Two Systems

In each situation these years of war, helped to shift both England and France onto a new path. In France, instead of various magnates controlling large, almost princedoms within the borders, there was now a sense of greater unity. The king did not rule only because of their support and consent. His power extended throughout the realm, and this began in the late 1220s. The concept of a sovereign king rather than a suzerain or feudal overlord was born and France was becoming a nation–state. But always with the king and his officials firmly holding centre stage. 

The concept of an English nationality became more apparent now that the English were expelled from France. Borders were more defined; possessions on the continent were no more. Loyalty was more straightforward. And so strong central government came about in England too, but here it was a partnership between king and parliament. In 1236 the term parliament was recorded for the first time. A new term for something that was often fractious and inconsistent. But it described the assemblies and councils held by the Anglo-Saxons and which had existed for many centuries. Now it evolved again. 

This article began with a quote from the 16th century and it ends with one from the 15th. Sir John Fortescue, a Chief Justice of the King's Bench, reflected that the king of France could rule his people by such laws as he made himself and set taxes without their assent. The king of England by contrast could not rule his people 'by laws other than those the people had assented to'. 

[*Tombs, Robert and Tombs, Isabelle, That Sweet Enemy: Britain and France: The History of a Love-Hate Relationship, Vintage 2008]

~~~~~~~~~~

Erica Lainé has been an actress, a beauty consultant, a box office manager for an arts festival, a domiciliary librarian, a reader liaison officer, a speech and drama teacher, a writer of TEFL textbooks for Chinese primary schools, and an educational project manager for the British Council in Hong Kong. She was awarded an MBE for her work there. 

After Hong Kong she came to south west France with her architect husband to live in the house he had designed, a conversion from a cottage and barn. She is president of An Aquitaine Historical Society and through this came to know about Isabella Taillefer, the subject of her trilogy. Isabella of Angoulême: The Tangled Queen.

https://www.facebook.com/ericalaineauthor

https://www.facebook.com/An-Aquitaine-Historical-Society-952885338058987/

https://ericalainewriter.com/

https://twitter.com/LaineEleslaine

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Isabella-Angoulême-Erica-Lainé/dp/1781324573/

Bad Queens - Part II

by Danielle Marchant

On Sunday 7th September 1533, Elizabeth, daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, was born at 3 o’clock in the afternoon at Greenwich Palace. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, but there was one detail that cast a shadow over this important event.

The baby was a girl.

Both her mother and father were disappointed that she was a girl. Up until now, all of the best astrologers and doctors had predicted a boy. Henry had spent time wondering whether to call his son Edward or Henry and was making plans for the celebratory tournament. Anne had even seen in advance the letter announcing the birth. In the letter, it gave thanks to God for sending her “good speed, in the deliverance and bringing forth of a prince”.

However, as soon as the baby girl was born, Henry decided to name her Elizabeth, after his mother Elizabeth of York, instead. The tournament was cancelled and the letter announcing the birth was slightly altered with an extra “s”, giving thanks to God for the birth of a “princes”.

Why was there so much disappointment over the baby being a girl? The reason for this was that at the time, there was a fear of having a female ruler. A history of what has been perceived as a series of “Bad Queens” had made it all the more important for the heir to the throne to be a boy, to keep the stability of the country. Henry had even divorced his first wife, Catherine of Aragon and had broken away from the Catholic Church because of Catherine’s failure in producing a healthy, male heir - despite the fact that they did have a healthy daughter, Mary.

Here is a part II of a list of Queens that helped to create the climate of fear of having another female ruler… (Read Part I HERE)

The Queens in the Wars of the Roses

Just over four decades before Princess Elizabeth’s birth in 1533, the country was torn apart by civil war between the House of York and the House of Lancaster, in the Wars of the Roses that lasted nearly thirty years. Around the time of Elizabeth’s birth, there may have still been many old enough to remember what they had seen, and this made it all the more important for the current generation to maintain peace. There were two main Queens in this civil war who became focus points for both Houses and helped to exasperate the situation even more. The series of events and the roles these two Queens played would definitely have helped to contribute to the climate of fear of not wanting another female ruler in the Tudor period:

1. Margaret of Anjou

Like Queen Isabella a century before her, Margaret was another French princess, who married Henry VI in 1445. In Shakespeare’s Henry VI Part 3, she was famously named the “She-Wolf” of France, and that her “tiger’s heart wrapped in a woman’s hide”.

Margaret was niece by marriage to the French King, Charles VII. The marriage caused controversy because no dowry had been given to the English Crown for Margaret by the French. Alternatively, they agreed that Charles VII, who was at war with Henry V in The Hundred Years' War in France, would have the lands of Maine and Anjou returned to France. This caused friction in the King’s council.

A breakdown in law and order, corruption, the distribution of royal land to the king's court favourites, and the continuous loss of land in France meant Henry and Margaret’s reign was an unpopular one. Returning troops, who had often not been paid, contributed to the anarchy and triggered a rebellion led by Jack Cade. Henry lost Normandy in 1450 and later lost other French territories, leaving only Calais untouched.

It is believed that this loss of French territory contributed to Henry’s nervous breakdown, which modern Doctors would probably diagnose as Catatonic Schizophrenia. Margaret gave birth to their only son, Edward of Lancaster, in 1453. However, given Henry’s mental state, this fuelled rumours that the son was not his; he believed that he would have been incapable of fathering a child and that the baby was actually the result of an affair between Margaret and one of her favourites. Edmund Beaufort 1st Duke of Somerset, or James Butler Earl of Wiltshire were considered to be possible fathers. Nevertheless, Henry accepted the son as his own.

While Henry remained for some weeks in a catatonic stupor, Margaret had to rule in his place. The kingdom found difficulty in having to cope without a king, but Margaret was ruthless and called for a Great Council in May 1455. This council excluded Richard Duke of York, and this sparked the series of battles between the Houses of York and Lancaster. Margaret attempted to raise support for the Lancastrian cause and subsequently, Lancaster was victorious at the Battle of Wakefield and of St Albans.

However, they were defeated by York at the Battle of Towton, in 1461. Edward, son of Richard Duke of York (who had been beheaded at the Battle of Wakefield) overthrew King Henry VI and proclaimed himself Edward IV. Margaret then fled to Scotland with her son and remained there, plotting her return.

2. Elizabeth Woodville

Elizabeth was the eldest of twelve children and spent her early life in relative obscurity in Grafton Regis, Northamptonshire. Even though her mother was Jacquetta, Dowager Duchess of Bedford and her father was Sir Richard Woodville, she was considered to be a “commoner” by her contemporaries. Her first husband, Sir John Grey, was killed at the Battle of St Albans, leaving her a widow with two sons.

It is believed that around the summer of 1464, Elizabeth heard that Edward VI was hunting in Whittlewood Forest. She waited for him under a tree (which was later called the “Queen’s Oak”), holding her two sons tightly. The King then rode by and she allegedly threw herself at his feet, begging him for help with the Grey family inheritance. According to the story, Edward was so struck by her “mournful beauty” that he fell in love with her and assumed she would just agree to be his mistress. However, she refused to be his mistress, even when a dagger was put to her throat (according to some interpretations of the story, she produced the dagger herself and put it to her own throat).

Her refusal to give in to him, unless he married her, increased his passion for her even more. They married in secret on Mayday in 1464. Only her mother, a Priest, probably two others and “a young man who helped the Priest sing” were present. It is believed that Elizabeth and Edward continued to meet in secret with the help of Jacquetta (who even managed to hide the secret marriage from her husband) until September, when the Council met in Reading. Here, Edward was being coerced into a marriage with Bona of Savoy, sister-in-law to the French King. Edward then had to admit the truth about his relationship with Elizabeth.

The news was a bombshell. Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick – also known as “The Kingmaker” – who had helped Edward take the throne, responded angrily to the clandestine marriage. He had negotiated for the hand of Lady Bona, and her marriage to Edward would have helped to forge an alliance between the House of York and one of the greatest Houses of Europe, helping to replenish the dwindling treasury with a generous dowry. Warwick’s anger at not being consulted on such an important matter would have been understandable.

Elizabeth was crowned Queen in May 1465. However, refusing to accept the marriage, Warwick fell out with Edward. Warwick later formed an alliance with Margaret of Anjou. Together, they overthrew Edward and restored Henry VI to the throne. In addition, Warwick’s daughter, Anne Neville, was married to Margaret's son Edward in December 1470.

Their success was brief, as Margaret was taken prisoner by York after being defeated at the Battle of Tewkesbury, in May 1471, where her son Edward was killed. Soon afterwards in the same year, Warwick was killed in the Battle of Barnet by Edward VI’s forces.

Since her marriage to Edward, however, Elizabeth was plagued with rumours of being a “sorceress”, having bewitched Edward into marriage. When Edward died in 1483, his brother Richard seized the throne, accusing her of having bewitched his brother into a bigamous marriage. As a result, Elizabeth’s marriage was declared invalid, and her two sons were taken into the Tower of London by their uncle Richard, after which they mysteriously disappeared.

It is possible that she may have plotted against Henry VII, who married her daughter Elizabeth of York. It is believed that she may have conspired with rebels in the Simnel rebellion. Subsequently, she was sent to live in Bermondsey Abbey, where she died in June 1492. She was allowed only occasional visits to court, and all her lands were transferred to Elizabeth of York.

Therefore, it is understandable that this history of “Bad Queens” (or those perceived to be “Bad Queens”) would have made the news of Princess Elizabeth’s birth in 1533 most unwelcome news. However, as we know, Elizabeth grew up to become Queen Elizabeth I. Elizabeth was one of the most successful rulers in English history, and her reign was called “The Golden Age”. Not a “Bad Queen” at all and all fears of another female ruler had been unfounded.

Images:

Margaret of Anjou (British Library Royal)
Elizabeth Woodville, possibly a copy of a lost original (Master and Fellows of Queen's College, Cambridge)

Sources and further reading:

Elizabeth – David Starkey, 2001
Eleanor of Aquitaine – By the Wrath of God, Queen of England – Alison Weir, 2000
Blood Sisters – The Women Behind the Wars of the Roses – Sarah Gristwood, 2013
Anne Neville – Queen to Richard III – Michael Hicks, 2007
Elizabeth Woodville – Mother of the Princes in the Tower – David Baldwin, 2012.
She-Wolves: the Women Who Ruled England Before Elizabeth - Helen Castor, 2011
www.bbc.co.uk/history
www.historyextra.com
www.philippagregory.com

~~~~~~~~~~

Danielle Marchant is an Independent Author from London, UK. Parts 1, 2 and 3 of her series of historical novellas based on Jane Boleyn Lady Rochford’s life, The Lady Rochford Saga, are available now:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B077PRF6F9/ref=series_rw_dp_sw

Visit her pages at https://www.facebook.com/TheLadyRochfordSaga and at http://danielleliannem.wix.com/janeboleyn.

Bad Queens - Part I

By Danielle Marchant

On Sunday 7th September 1533, Elizabeth, daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, was born at 3 o’clock in the afternoon at Greenwich Palace. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, but there was one detail that cast a shadow over this important event.

The baby was a girl.

Both her mother and father were disappointed that she was a girl. Up until now, all of the best astrologers and doctors had predicted a boy. Henry had spent time wondering whether to call his son Edward or Henry and was making plans for the celebratory tournament. Anne had even seen in advance the letter announcing the birth. In the letter, it gave thanks to God for sending her “good speed, in the deliverance and bringing forth of a prince”.

However, as soon as the baby girl was born, Henry decided to name her Elizabeth, after his mother Elizabeth of York, instead. The tournament was cancelled and the letter announcing the birth was slightly altered with an extra “s”, giving thanks to God for the birth of a “princes”.

Why was there so much disappointment over the baby being a girl? The reason for this was that at the time, there was a fear of having a female ruler. A history of what has been perceived as a series of “Bad Queens” had made it all the more important for the heir to the throne to be a boy, to keep the stability of the country. Henry had even divorced his first wife, Catherine of Aragon and had broken away from the Catholic Church because of Catherine’s failure in producing a healthy, male heir - despite the fact that they did have a healthy daughter, Mary.

Here is a part I of a list of Queens that helped to create the climate of fear of having another female ruler… (part II tomorrow)

Queen Boudicca (died circa AD 60)

Boudicca was maybe not necessarily a “Bad Queen”, but her reign was definitely not a quiet and peaceful one. She ruled over the Iceni people of Eastern England and led a major uprising against occupying Roman forces. She was married to Prasutagus, ruler of the Iceni people of East Anglia.

When the Romans conquered southern England in AD 43, they allowed Prasutagus to continue to rule. However, when Prasutagus died, the Romans decided to rule the Iceni directly. They confiscated the property of the leading tribesmen. It is also believed that they stripped and thrashed Boudicca and raped her daughters. These actions helped to intensify widespread hatred at Roman rule.

In 60 or 61 AD, while the Roman governor, Gaius Suetonius Paullinus, was leading a campaign in North Wales, the Iceni rebelled with the help of members from other tribes.

Boudicca's warriors successfully defeated the Roman Ninth Legion and destroyed the capital of Roman Britain, which as the time was in Colchester. They went on to destroy London and Verulamium (St Albans). Thousands were killed. Finally, Boudicca was defeated by a Roman army led by Paulinus. Many Britons were killed, and Boudicca is thought to have poisoned herself to avoid capture. Where the battle had taken place and the site of Boudicca's death are unknown.

Empress Matilda

Once again, she was probably not exactly a “Bad Queen” (and Matilda was never crowned a Queen either), but it was down to the fact that she was a woman and the resulting dispute over her disregarded claim to the throne that led to years of civil war. Empress Matilda was the granddaughter of William the Conqueror and daughter of Henry I. She is known today as the Lady of the English, having never been crowned queen. She was married for a short time to the Holy Roman Emperor and was the rightful heir to the throne. If she had become Queen, she would have been the first reigning queen of England in 1135, being descended from Norman, Scottish, and English (Saxon) kings. However, on her father’s death in 1135 – and partly because she was a woman – her cousin Stephen of Blois seized the throne.

Like Matilda, Stephen was a grandchild of William the Conqueror. He had, on at least two occasions, promised Henry I to support Matilda as Queen of England, as had all other nobles in the realm. But after Henry died, Stephen claimed Henry made these promises under coercion and that Henry had named Stephen as his successor. In spite of this, the nobles and the Pope supported Stephen’s claim to the throne, and he became King of the English and Duke of Normandy, which was another title he had inherited from Henry I.

However, his reign was not a peaceful one, and this was the start of almost 20 years of civil war. Within four years of Stephen’s accession, Matilda had gathered a force to challenge him for the crown. She had a lot of political support, because along with other estranged nobles, she also had her husband, who was one of the most powerful nobles in France, Geoffrey, Count of Anjou.

In 1141, she was in London and was ready to be crowned. However, within a few months Stephen ruined her chances and forced Matilda out before the coronation occurred. In spite of this, Matilda’s supporters continued to fight for her claim by challenging Stephen. However, neither she, nor they could win and to make matters worse, her husband Geoffrey never sent a major force to England to assist them.

However, Geoffrey did eventually force out Stephen from Normandy and then, took over as its Duke. Geoffrey and Matilda had a son, Henry, who Geoffrey named Duke of Normandy in 1150. Henry inherited the titles and lands as Count of Anjou following his father’s death in 1151.

With the support of his mother, Henry claimed the English throne from Stephen. Eventually, Henry and King Stephen made an agreement that Henry would be the heir to the throne after Stephen died, even superseding the claims of Stephen’s son, Eustace. This ended the civil war. Within two years, both Eustace and Stephen’s wives were dead, and Stephen was forced to relinquish the crown to Henry. In 1154, Stephen died of natural causes and was succeeded by Matilda’s son, King Henry II.

Eleanor of Aquitaine

Eleanor was one of the most powerful and controversial women of the Middle Ages. She was beautiful, intelligent and headstrong. There were rumours about her in her lifetime, but definitely within reason and her contemporaries were shocked by her behaviour. Eleanor was the elder daughter of William, tenth Duke of Aquitaine. She was raised in one of Europe's most cultured courts and given an excellent education. She later became an important patron of poets and writers. It was also a relaxed and licentious place, where the arts of the troubadours thrived, and she even presided over the fabled Courts of Love.

In 1137, both her only brother and her father died, leaving her with a vast inheritance. At just the age of 15, she became the most eligible heiress in Europe. That same year, she married Louis, heir to Louis VI of France, who shortly afterwards became King Louis VII. The couple had two daughters.

In 1147, Eleanor accompanied her husband on the Second Crusade, travelling to Constantinople and Jerusalem. The Crusade was a failure. The relationship between Eleanor and her husband – which was already in a vulnerable state - worsened even more. Eleanor failed to produce a son, and this added to the tension. In 1152, they were divorced.

Two months later Eleanor married Henry of Anjou, who in 1154 became King of England. The couple had five sons and three daughters. For nearly twenty years, Eleanor played an active part in the running of Henry's empire, and she travelled back and forth between their territories in England and France.

In 1173, two of Eleanor's sons involved her in a plot against their father. Subsequently, Henry imprisoned her. After Henry's death in 1189, his eldest son, Richard I, ordered his mother's release. Despite her age (at this point, she would have been in her mid-sixties), Eleanor played a major part in government. In 1190, she acted as regent in England when Richard went to join the Third Crusade. She even played her part in negotiations for his release after he was taken prisoner in Germany on his way home.

Queen Isabella

Queen Isabella was the wife of Edward II. Isabella is definitely viewed as a “Bad Queen” because she helped to remove her husband from the throne, alongside her lover Roger Mortimer, one of Edward’s enemies. Edward was later imprisoned and murdered. In addition, Isabella’s reign alongside Mortimer was a failure.

Edward became King in July 1307. On his accession, he immediately recalled his favourite, Piers Gaveston from exile, whom his father, Edward I, had banished to France for having a bad influence on his son. Gaveston was given the earldom of Cornwall, which had previously been a title conferred on royalty.

This act sparked opposition to the king and his favourite. In 1311, the nobles issued the “Ordinances”. This was an attempt to restrict royal control of finance and appointments. Gaveston was twice exiled at the demand of the barons, but returned to England soon afterwards. In 1312, he was captured and executed by the barons.

In 1314, Edward invaded Scotland. He was defeated by Robert the Bruce at Bannockburn. Power was now in the hands of the barons led by Edward's cousin, Thomas of Lancaster, who by 1315 made himself the real ruler of England. Yet Lancaster did very little to pledge reform and as a result, some areas of the country collapsed into anarchy.

By 1318, Edward and Lancaster did resolve some issues between them, but the king had two new favourites - Hugh le Despenser and his son. When Edward supported the two Despensers' ambitions in Wales, a group of barons banished both father and son. This made Edward want to fight back. Edward defeated Lancaster - who had begged the Scots to help him - at Boroughbridge in March 1322. He executed him and recalled the Despensers, with whom he now ruled.

This is where Isabella comes in, because at this point, she emerged as a focus for Edward’s enemies. In 1325, she was sent on a diplomatic mission to France. There she met and became the mistress of Roger Mortimer, an exiled opponent of Edward. In September 1326, they invaded England. Fortunately for them, there was almost no resistance. The Despensers were captured and executed, and Edward was overthrown in favour of his and Isabella's son, who was crowned Edward III in January 1327. Edward II was imprisoned at Berkeley Castle and murdered there.

As Edward III was still a minor, the country was ruled by Queen Isabella and Roger Mortimer. However, their reign was as bad as Edward II’s. They had even gone so far as to recognize Robert the Bruce as the King of Scots, something even Edward wouldn’t do.

As soon as Edward reached the age of 18 in 1330, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He had Mortimer arrested, but instead of having him killed straight-away, Edward had Mortimer tried for treason in Parliament. Despite Queen Isabella’s protest, Mortimer was then hanged.

Isabella, however, escaped such a similar fate when Edward allowed her to retire from public life for the rest of her life. She died in 1358.

Tomorrow, Part II will explore the lives of the 'Bad Queens' of the Wars of the Roses...


Sources and further reading:
Elizabeth – David Starkey, 2001
Eleanor of Aquitaine – By the Wrath of God, Queen of England – Alison Weir, 2000
Blood Sisters – The Women Behind the Wars of the Roses – Sarah Gristwood, 2013
Anne Neville – Queen to Richard III – Michael Hicks, 2007
Elizabeth Woodville – Mother of the Princes in the Tower – David Baldwin, 2012.
She-Wolves: the Women Who Ruled England Before Elizabeth - Helen Castor, 2011
www.bbc.co.uk/history
www.historyextra.com
www.philippagregory.com

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Danielle Marchant is an Independent Author from London, UK. Parts 1, 2 and 3 of her series of historical novellas based on Jane Boleyn Lady Rochford’s life, The Lady Rochford Saga, are available now:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B077PRF6F9/ref=series_rw_dp_sw

Visit her pages at https://www.facebook.com/TheLadyRochfordSaga and at http://danielleliannem.wix.com/janeboleyn.

England and the Aquitaine Part II: Richard

by Helena P Schrader

Last month, I noted that an English Friend used to lament that: “England has gone downhill ever since she lost the Aquitaine!” (For those of you who are a bit rusty with the date: that was 1454.) You might be forgiven—thinking of the Glories of the Empire—that he was very much mistaken, although I dare say he was thinking mostly of the climate and the wine. Nevertheless, the Aquitaine was immensely important to England in the three hundred years preceding its final loss and is strongly associated with three of England’s most charismatic historical figures: Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart and Edward, the Black Prince. Today I continue my three-part examination of England and the Aquitaine with a look at the importance of Aquitaine to Richard the Lionheart.

Richard I's Tomb at Fontevault

Richard was born in 1157 to Henry II, King of England, Duke of Normandy and Count of Anjou, and his queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine. He was the third son born to the couple, but his eldest brother, William, had already died before he made his appearance, making him effectively the second son. His elder brother Henry was, in an age where primogeniture was increasingly common but not 100% institutionalized, the heir apparent to his father’s kingdom and other possessions. Fortunately for Richard, his mother was also a great heiress. She held not only the Aquitaine, from which she derived her title, but also Gascony and Poitou. Her domains stretched from the Loire to the Pyrenees, from the Massive Central to the Atlantic. Furthermore, it was already common practice (though not legally necessary) for younger sons to be endowed with lands acquired by marriage or purchase. In 1168, Henry II did exactly this; he announced his intention to give his eldest son his own inheritance and to give his son Richard his wife’s inheritance. 

In early 1169, Richard did homage to the King of France for Poitou and Aquitaine, while his elder brother did homage for Normandy, Anjou and Maine. Richard was also formally betrothed to the daughter of King Louis VII, Alice (or Alys). Shortly afterwards, he started taking part in official functions beside his mother. In June 1172, he was symbolically invested with Aquitaine in the Abbey of St. Hilaire in Poitiers, where he was handed the lance and banner of Aquitaine from the bishops of Bordeaux and Poitiers. But it was not until 1173, when at the age of 15 he was knighted by the French King, that he officially entered manhood in the medieval world and thereby acquired the right to “take up” his inheritance.

Meanwhile, however, Richard had already started to identify himself strongly with the Aquitaine.  He had already spent much of his life there. Eleanor is known to have kept her children with her as much as possible, and she was frequently in her possessions even in the early years of her marriage to Henry. In 1166, however, she officially took up residence in Poitiers, and she took Richard with her. From then until Richard joined his elder brother’s first rebellion against their father in 1173, Richard lived with his mother in the Aquitaine. These were highly formative years, from the age of nine to fifteen. They left their mark on Richard in many ways.

This was when Richard not only learned to speak the Langue d’Oc of his mother’s territories (and incidentally the language of his future wife as well), he also learned a love of music and troubadours that remained with him to his death. Indeed, Richard was capable of composing lyrics and music himself. In that he took after his great-grandfather, William IX of Aquitaine, who in addition to being a crusader had been an outstanding troubadour and allegedly a man who “turned everything into a joke” (according to William of Malmesbury).  The Aquitaine also contained some of the most magnificent architectural monuments of the age, schools of sculpture and the home of enamel working in Limoges — all things that Richard would have been exposed to while growing up. Furthermore, Aquitaine was rich in wine, game, and agricultural produce — everything needed to support a lifestyle of luxury in the medieval context. Richard, unlike his father, was known to love the trappings of wealth as much as the substance. Richard, like his great-grand father, had a sense of humor appreciated even by his Saracen enemies. Richard was very much a product of the South of France by the time he became a man. He remained it all his life. 

Cloisters at Moissac

As for the rebellion against his father in 1173, we cannot know his motives for sure, but John Gillingham argues in his biography of Richard that Eleanor had reasons to fear her husband trying to extend his control over her territories and infringing on the independence of her inheritance. As long as Eleanor and Henry had been in harmony, jointly building an empire for posterity, there had been no rivalry between them, but as the break between Eleanor and Henry grew, Eleanor appears to have resented her husband’s interference in her lands. She is widely credited with convincing Richard that he should toss off his father’s yoke just as his elder brother was doing and take control of the lands settled upon him for himself. In short, he should seek to become Duke of Aquitaine in fact as well as name.

Richard’s first rebellion against his father was not a success. Many citizens had no desire to support an untried youth against a king with as formidable a reputation as Henry Plantagenet. Although Richard had some supports and was stubborn in his resistance, he did not dare risk a direct confrontation with a man who had won so many battles already. When he learned his elder brother and the French King had already submitted to Henry, Richard too bowed to the inevitable and threw himself on his father’s mercy. He was forgiven, and not just nominally. Richard had lost his bid for autonomy and real power, but he had not (yet) lost the Aquitaine itself. For the next ten years, he ruled the Aquitaine as his father’s deputy.

These were not peaceful years. Richard had temporarily given up his fight for independence, but many of the barons of Aquitaine had not. Richard was sent by his father to subdue his erstwhile allies—and he did. But not easily. He had to ask his father for help more than once. In the end, however, as Gillingham writes: “Richard … exceeded his father’s expectations. The combination of the father’s resources and occasional presence with Richard’s determination and burgeoning military skills had, it seems, pacified even the most independent parts of the duchy.” (Richard I, p. 63.)  Church chroniclers were quick to claim that Richard was hated by his barons for his “cruelty,” but the lords of Aquitaine needed no such excuse for rebellion. They had rebelled against Eleanor (because she was a weak woman) and her father and her grandfather…. Rebellion was in their nature, and Richard did what any ruler of his time had to do: assert his authority by force of arms.

The rebels, however, faced with an indomitable military leader like Richard, looked for allies—and found the perfect candidate in the Richard’s elder brother, Henry the Young King. The latter was intensely jealous of Richard’s independence and success. In a complicated family drama, Henry the Young King sought to garner support from the Old King by doing homage and swearing eternal loyalty – and then turning on his brother and claiming the Aquitaine. Henry II didn’t fall for the trick. He tried to make peace between his sons. Unfortunately, Henry the Young King didn’t want peace, he wanted the Aquitaine. Richard wasn’t about to give it up. It came to a bloody showdown with the King of France, the Duke of Burgundy, the Count of Toulouse and the perpetual rebel barons of the Aquitaine all lined up behind Henry the Young King  to fight against Richard — and his father the Old King. The latter two won!

The image of Richard hounding his father to a terrible and lonely death in 1189 tends to so overshadow all that went before that the degree to which Richard and Henry II worked together in the decade from 1173 - 1183 is all but forgotten. While it goes beyond the scope of this essay, I think it is fair to remember that love and hate are often intimately interrelated. Betrayed love is a common cause of bitter hatred. Many crimes of passion grow from exactly this motive. We may think of betrayed erotic love — the murder of a faithless lover or the seducer of one’s love — but the filial love betrayed might also ignite hatred, especially in a man as passionate as Richard the Lionheart. 

With the death of the Young King, however, the dynamic and the relationship between Richard and Henry II unalterably changed. Suddenly, Richard was no longer the younger son, he was instantly the heir apparent to his father’s heritage. That is, he was heir to England, Normandy, Anjou and Maine. There were three fundamental problems with this: 1) Henry II had no intention of giving up the real power in his territories to Richard any more than he had to the Young King, and 2) Richard was not inclined to become a puppet king like his elder brother, and 3) Richard was still Duke of Aquitaine.

Richard's Castle in Poitiers

The latter was a problem because it made him master of everything, but he had a younger brother who had practically nothing. Henry, not unreasonably, thought that if Richard was getting a kingdom (plus Normandy, Anjou and Maine), he ought to share with his little brother — namely give him the Aquitaine. Unfortunately, by now Richard was 26 and he’d spent the better part of his life in Aquitaine. He’d attended his father’s court in Normandy and Anjou often enough, but he’d had no cause to go to England for almost two decades. England might be a kingdom, but it wasn’t home. More important, he’d fought for the Aquitaine — risking life, limb and fortune there. Predictably, therefore, when Henry II ordered Richard to turn over the Aquitaine to John, Richard flatly refused. He told his father he would never allow anyone to take his place as Duke of Aquitaine. And so a new intra-family war began.

Henry first tried to persuade Richard to relent, and when this didn’t work, he apparently told John if he wanted the Aquitaine he should take it by force of arms. The remark was probably made more in a fit of exasperated temper (such as the one that resulted in the murder of the Archbishop of Canterbury) because when Henry heard that John (joined by brother Geoffrey) had indeed attacked the Aquitaine he summed all three of his sons to England and effected a formal reconciliation. 

But, of course, nothing had been resolved. Richard was still heir presumptive to his father’s domains and very much in control of his mother’s as well. Henry next tried to persuade Eleanor to use her influence over Richard. It is interesting that at this juncture, ten years after her rebellion and imprisonment that Henry still presumed she had influence over Richard. But he didn’t trust Eleanor entirely and now (foolishly it seems in retrospect) started to himself play his sons off against one another, making Geoffrey (of all people!) his deputy in Normandy. Henry may have hoped that Richard would come to heel if he thought his claim to his patrimony was not secure, but the tactic did not work.

So Henry played the Eleanor card again: he ordered Richard to surrender Aquitaine not to John but to his mother. Richard dutifully did so — a very strong statement about his relationship to her despite ten years of separation and despite the fact that he got nothing in return. One can only speculate that he was confident that she would not give the Aquitaine to anyone but him! But the agreement also notably reconciled him (temporarily) with his father. Once again, father and son acted in harmony.  Richard moved against a rebellious Count of Toulouse, and received financial support for doing so from his father. They also campaigned together against a French invasion of Angevin territories on the Loire.

It was not until summer of 1187 that the break really came between Richard and Henry. The instigator appears to have been the French King, who convinced Richard that his father meant to disinherit him entirely. It’s hard to believe Philip would have been successful if Richard hadn’t harbored doubts already or if his relationship with his father had been good. There must have been quarrels and tensions that did not make it into the chronicles. Richard must have felt threatened or slighted or cheated. In any case, he rebelled again, and this time alone. He seized his father’s treasure at Chinon, but before it came to outright conflict the news of the loss of Jerusalem reached the West.

Richard was one of the first to “take the cross” and swear to regain the Holy Land. Henry II is said to have been stunned by Richard’s move. Indeed his reaction (he allegedly did not talk to anyone for days) is evidence of how much he respected and depended on Richard. Had he truly planned to disinherit him, Henry would have been delighted to see Richard go to Jerusalem — and stay there, dead or alive. He could had sent him off to regain the crown of Jerusalem, and given his own empire to John. But Henry did not want to see Richard go to distant Jerusalem. He wanted him at home defending the Angevin Empire from a clearly hostile Philip of France.

The situation was temporarily resolved by Henry II and Philip also taking the cross. The general idea being that no one would be around to prey upon the other’s weaknesses if they all went crusading together. In the event, however, the mutual suspicions were simply too great for this solution. Returning to the theme of this essay, it was a revolt in the Aquitaine that distracted Richard from the crusade. He turned to put it down and then became embroiled in a new war with the Count of Toulouse. The King of France used this as an excuse to attack along the Loire again. Henry and Richard were partners again; the Plantagenets were fighting the Capets, the crusade forgotten.  

French King at War against the English during the 100 Years War

Then Richard and Henry quarreled yet again. The reason was the apparent willingness of Henry to sacrifice some of Richard’s gains in Toulouse in exchange for securing better terms in Anjou. Richard would not accept this. He sought better terms from Philip — and was again caught in the French King’s web. Philip persuaded him to publicly demand recognition as his father’s heir (without giving up the Aquitaine, note!). Henry replied evasively and Richard took offense. He publicly did homage to Philip II of France. It was November 1188.

Eight months later, Henry II was defeated and dead, a victim less of his son than his own intransigence. Gillingham sums it up like this: “The Old King may have been obsessed by the problems that had arisen after he had recognized young Henry as his heir and determined not to make the same mistake. But it would not have been the same mistake. Richard was not Henry. In character he was very different from his dead elder brother. He was now thirty-one years old and a soldier and a politician of great experience. When entrusted with government, he did not make a mess of it.” (Richard I, p. 97.)

Henry II's Tomb at Fontevrault

Henry’s death was certainly tragic, and had he been less stubborn a reconciliation with Richard would almost certainly have been possible. They had fought together far more often than against one another!  Had Henry fully acknowledged Richard as his heir (without taking away the Aquitaine!), Richard very likely would have joined forces against Philip II — or gone happily off on crusade — rather than fight his father. What is of interest to us here is that the bone of contention with his father was consistently the Aquitaine. Richard was not willing to give it up at any price, and every time his father tried to take it — or even parts of it — away, Richard rebelled.

At his father’s death, Richard indeed inherited it all: England, Normandy, Anjou, and Maine, without surrendering his rights as his mother’s heir to Aquitaine, Gascony and Poitou. He was also still committed to recovering Jerusalem, and the next four years of his life were spent preparing for, conducting and then returning from crusade. The last six years of his reign were spent fighting for the Angevin Empire in a horrible war of attrition mostly carried out in Normandy.

But it was the Aquitaine that claimed him in the end.  His determination to hold on the Aquitaine led him to the fateful siege of Châlus. Had he not felt compelled to put down yet another revolt by lords in Aquitaine, he might have lived to either defeat Philip II once and for all or go on another crusade and reclaim Jerusalem. (No, the story of Richard seeking treasure being the cause of his siege of Châlus has been completely debunked. See Jean Flori’s biography, Richard the Lionheart, for a very comprehensive discussion siting all the primary sources).

Richard the Lionheart was King of England and a famous crusader, but his heart was in the Aquitaine.

Sources:               
Gillingham, John, Richard I, Yale University Press, 1999.
Flori, Jean, Richard the Lionheart, Praeger, 2006.

Helena Schrader is the currently writing a three part biography of Balian d’Ibelin, who served as Richard the Lionheart’s envoy to Saladin in 1192. Balian’s relationship with Richard and their common struggle to recapture Jerusalem 1191-1192 is the subject of the third book in her Balian series, Envoy of Jerusalem. The first two books in the series, Knight of Jerusalem and Defender of Jerusalem, were released in 2014 and 2015 respectively. You can find out more about them and Crusader Jerusalem at http://defenderofjerusalem.com and more about all of Helena’s books at: http://helenapschrader.com.

England and the Aquitaine Part I: Eleanor

“England has gone downhill ever since she lost the Aquitaine,” a very dear English friend used to lament. (For those of you who are a bit rusty with dates, that was 1454.) He was referring mostly to the climate and the wine, of course, and many of you—thinking of the Glories of the Empire—may vehemently disagree with him. However, the Aquitaine was immensely important to England in the three hundred years preceding its final loss and it is strongly associated with three of England’s most charismatic historical figures: Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart and Edward, the Black Prince. I’d like to look more closely at the importance of the Aquitaine for each of these English icons in three entries, starting today with Eleanor.

Eleanor in a Medieval Manuscript Illustraton

The importance of the Aquitaine to Eleanor (as her name suggests) can hardly be underestimated or overstated. Eleanor was Aquitaine. She was the unquestioned heiress to the wealthy Duchy, and as such she brought the Aquitaine with her into the two marriages she contracted. This is an important point: the Aquitaine was not her dowry. Ownership of the Aquitaine did not transfer to her husband at her marriage; it remained her property or “honor” and could only be transmitted in her lifetime with her consent—or by force of arms.

To be sure, the Aquitaine was also a large territory filled with unruly barons and lords wealthy enough to build castles and maintain mercenaries.  Even exceptionally powerful men (e.g. Henry II, Richard the Lionheart) found it difficult to control the Aquitaine. Frequent uprisings by the independently-minded lords meant that the rulers of the Aquitaine were almost perpetually engaged in subduing one rebellious vassal or another, usually by force of arms.

One of the many powerful castles of Aquitaine

Under the circumstances it was unreasonable to expect a woman, much less a young maiden as Eleanor was at the time of her father’s death, to maintain control. The only way to keep the Duchy together (and paying taxes to the Duke/Duchess) was to entrust it (and its human incorporation Eleanor) to someone strong enough to rule with an iron fist. Her father on his deathbed in 1137 decided to entrust Eleanor and his duchy to the King of France. He sent a secret embassy to the French King suggesting a marriage between Eleanor and his eldest son and heir, Louis, and the French King instantly dispatched his prince with a very powerful escort to secure control of this valuable prize. Just three months after her father’s death, Eleanor and Louis were married in Bordeaux. Before they reached Paris, Louis’ father was dead and he was king. At the age of 15 Eleanor was Queen of France.

That did not impress her vassals. Indeed, it may have fostered a greater desire for independence. In any case, true to their nature, some of the lords of Eleanor’s vast domains rebelled soon afterwards. Louis went to put them down. Note, he did not do this as King of France, but in his wife’s name. He was her deputy, exercising her authority. He was harsh but effective.

The Medieval Bridge at Cahors - Not directly in Eleanor's domains, but she claimed the County of Toulouse. Her second husband, Henry of England, captured Cahors and Quercy for her, although he failed to subdue the entire County

Unfortunately, he next quarreled with one of his most powerful vassals, the Counts of Champagne, allegedly to secure an advantageous marriage for Eleanor’s younger sister. While successful, this episode ended badly with people being burnt alive in a church, an atrocity which haunted Louis the rest of his life. It caused him to become even more pious than before, and may have largely motivated his desire to “take the cross” and go to the Holy Land in what would become known as the Second Crusade. It almost certainly also contributed to increasingly strained relations between Louis and his bride. On the one hand, Louis may have blamed Eleanor for the incident (because he was representing her interests), on the other hand his penitence for the act included wearing hair shirts and increased religious fervor that can be summed up by a remark attributed to Eleanor to the effect that she thought she was marrying a king but found herself married to a monk instead.

It is noteworthy in this context that when Louis dramatically “took the cross” as Vézeley he was followed by Eleanor. Although Eleanor did later accompany him on the crusade, her gesture was not that of a wife declaring her desire to share her husband’s pilgrimage (although that was very common at the time). Eleanor took the cross not as Queen of France, but as Duchess of Aquitaine, and in so doing she was putting pressure on her vassals to follow their liege lord (herself) and join the crusade. Her gesture was very carefully staged for maximum effect, and initially at least had the desired effect of inducing many lords and knights from the Aquitaine to join the crusade.

Medieval Merchant Homes in Cordes - Eleanor's Wealth was based on trade as well as land.

Unfortunately, the very strength of the Aquitanian contingent led to further strains in Eleanor’s marriage.  In an unfortunate incident while crossing the mountains of Paphlagonia, the Poitevan/Aquitainian lords moved too far forward causing a gap to develop between the vanguard and the main body of troops. The Turks exploited the situation, routed the King’s knights and as darkness fell King Louis himself was left perched in a tree, his army apparently annihilated around him. Eventually, the survivors regrouped and the crusade continued, but there had been many unnecessary casualties and Eleanor (because she commanded those Aquitainian lords) was blamed.

By the time Eleanor and Louis reached Antioch, where Eleanor’s uncle was the ruling prince, Eleanor wanted to escape her marriage. Whether she had an affair with her uncle or not (and it seems highly unlikely to me), Louis felt compelled to use force to remove her from Antioch.  Even after their return to France and a public reconciliation brokered by the pope, the marriage was not salvageable. After the birth of a second daughter to Eleanor in 1150, court opinion also swung against her. Churchmen now, after 15 years of marriage, conveniently remembered she was too closely related to Louis for a valid marriage. The marriage was annulled.

.

Romanesque Sculpture at the Abbey of  Moissac already in place in Eleanor's time

What this meant was that Eleanor was no longer Queen of France, but she was still Duchess of Aquitaine. As such, she was the most valuable single woman on the continent of Europe. The very trip from Paris back to Poitiers (one of her favorite residences) was fraught with dangers, and any man who could seize her and then force her to marry him stood to win the richest province of France. Both the heir to the Count of Blois, Theobald, and the younger son of the Count of Anjou, Geoffrey, laid ambushes for Eleanor, but she evaded both. Obviously, however, she needed to remarry as rapidly as possible or live in constant fear of such assaults. She might be 30 rather than 15, but she still needed—as her father had foreseen—a powerful husband who could both fight off other suitors and keep her unruly barons under control.

It is appealing to imagine that Eleanor could now marry whom she pleased, but that was not the case. She still incorporated the Aquitaine and her marriage as a mature woman of 30, no less than as a maiden of 15, had to be a dynastic one designed to ensure the preservation of her inheritance and the continuation of her house. That was what noblemen (and women) were concerned about in the 12^th century. Emotions did not play a dominant role. That said, there is some evidence that Eleanor had met —and been attracted to— her next husband. Then again, having been a queen, she may have been as attracted to his prospects of becoming King of England (and so making her a queen again) as to the man himself. In any case, her choice—and it was her choice, even if it was not based on her affections—fell on Henry of Anjou, soon to be King Henry II of England, the first of the Plantagenet kings.

Henry’s reasons for marrying Eleanor were unquestionably political. He gained the vast wealth of Aquitaine (and Eleanor’s other possessions of Poitou, Angouleme, Limousin, Perigord, etc.), and with this one stroke (that cost not a single life) he placed his overlord, the King of France, in check. It was decades before the Kings of France could make serious trouble for the Angevins again. Whether Henry found Eleanor, who was 11 years older, the mother of two girls, and had a sullied reputation, attractive is a moot point. Then again, there is considerable evidence that he found Eleanor very much to his liking.

In any case, the early years of Eleanor and Henry’s marriage appear to have been harmonious. They produced no less than eight children, and after so singularly failing to produce a male heir for Louis of France, Eleanor gave Henry five sons, four of whom lived to adulthood. The turbulent relationships that eventually developed between Henry, Eleanor and these sons are, however, beyond the focus of this essay.

For whatever her feelings, Eleanor remained Aquitaine, and it was this fact that shaped so much of what was to come. In 1159, after Henry had been King of England roughly five years and restored good governance there after decades of civil war, he—apparently bored—decided to assert Eleanor’s claims to Toulouse. After initial successes, his attempt was foiled by the arrival of King Louis of France in the city of Toulouse when Henry was about to lay siege to it. Louis was still his liege lord so attacking Toulouse under the circumstances would technically have been treason. Pressing Eleanor’s claim to Toulouse wasn’t worth it to him. He did, however, loyally put down rebellions against Eleanor in 1166-1168, including that led by the Lusignans (in which, famously, Eleanor was nearly taken captive and William Marshal won her gratitude.) It was during this period, however, that Eleanor returned to Poitiers and took up residence there.

Eleanor's Palace at Poitiers

Far from going there against Henry’s wishes, the move was apparently instigated by the king himself. England was at peace and well administered, but Eleanor’s territories were restless. She had already proved a highly able deputy for him elsewhere, so why not in the land of her birth? Thus, while Henry was occupied putting down a rebellion in Brittany, Eleanor was engaged in getting reacquainted with her own vassals. By 1168, however, the move to Poitiers had become a formal “separation.” Eleanor had decided to stay in Poitiers—whether Henry liked it or not.

Various reasons have been given for this decision: Henry’s affair with Rosamund Clifford, the fact that Eleanor had probably reached menopause (she was now 46), while Henry was still a virile 35, or simply that she and Henry, two strong personalities, quarreled too much. Other possible reasons include the fact that Richard had just been designated her heir, his elder brother having been given England, Normandy and Anjou, and it made sense to introduce Richard to his inheritance and future vassals; who could do that better than Eleanor herself? Or Eleanor might simply have discovered that she preferred the climate, cuisine and culture of her native Aquitaine over the fast-paced and notoriously Spartan lifestyle of her over-active husband. All these factors may have played a role. Furthermore, the “break” between Eleanor and Henry at this stage should not be exaggerated. Eleanor was entrusted with control over her domains, and her children visited her here. Eleanor was still occasionally called upon to act as Henry’s deputy elsewhere, for example in Normandy in 1170. Henry and Eleanor also went on pilgrimage together after Henry suffered a serious illness which caused him to think he was on his deathbed.  

Poitiers Cathedral

Yet in 1173, when Henry the Young King rose in rebellion against his father with the support of King Louis (who had waited a long time for his revenge!), Eleanor threw in her lot with her son rather than her husband. She allegedly encouraged both Richard and Geoffrey, who were residing with her at the time, to join the Young King. She also encouraged her vassals to rebel against Henry’s rule, and when Henry sent her a warning to desist or face excommunication (for treason), she tried to flee to the French court. She never made it. She was apprehended by men loyal to her husband and turned over to him. She spent the next ten years as his prisoner.

After the death of Henry the Young King in 1183, however, Henry did allow her to travel and even preform ceremonial functions (under close surveillance).  With the young king dead, Henry wanted to redistribute his territories. Since Richard was now the heir apparent to the paternal inheritance of England, Normandy and Anjou, he wanted to give his favorite son (the only legitimate son had not yet rebelled against him) the Aquitaine. But Henry couldn’t do that because it didn’t belong to him. It was Eleanor’s. And she refused to disinherit Richard for John. The only way Henry could get Richard to relinquish the Aquitaine was to order him to resign it to Eleanor herself. This Richard dutifully did in 1185, and for the next two years Eleanor was master of her own territories again —under Henry’s watchful guidance.

By 1187, however, Richard was chaffing under his father’s dominance and frustrated by not having been officially named heir—despite renouncing the Aquitaine. He formally broke with his father by making a great show of going to Paris, where he was received with open arms by the French King — now Louis’ son Philip II.  The French King’s interest was obvious: weakening and humiliating Henry II of England, his father’s greatest rival. Henry, apparently suspecting that Eleanor might again side with her son — in this case her favorite son — against him, sent Eleanor back to England and confinement. When Richard became king two years later while in open rebellion against his father, his first act was to order the release of his mother and to appoint her his regent in England.

Historical Re-enactment of Richard the Lionheart in Aquitaine

Curiously, in a way, it was with Richard’s ascension to the throne that Eleanor’s association with Aquitaine weakened. Richard’s attention was focused on the Holy Land for the first four years of his reign, and after his release from captivity he had his hands full fighting off Philip II’s tenacious attempts to wrench his continental possessions from him. Eleanor supported him more in England than in Aquitaine because that was where Richard needed her most. Although she remained Duchess of Aquitaine until her death, her ability to exert her authority there had faded. In 1202, at the age of 80, she took the veil at Frontevault Abbey, and in 1204 she died there.

Eleanor of Aquitaine's Tomb at Fontevrault. I love the fact she is shown reading a book!

And the Aquitaine? As her heir, John inherited it at her death—and lost almost all of it before his reign was over.  

* All photos in this entry (except the medieval manuscript illustration at the top) were taken by the author in 1993.

Helena Schrader is the currently writing a three part biography of Balian d’Ibelin, a contemporary of Eleanor. The first two books in the series, Knight of Jerusalem and Defender of Jerusalem, were released in 2014 and 2015 respectively. You can find out more about them and the Crusader Jerusalem at http://defenderofjerusalem.com and more about all of Helena Schrader’s books at: http://helenapschrader.com.