The Passionate Enemies (6 page)

He had begun to charm her with his conversation and subtle compliments; and by the time they reached Ely, she was eager to do all that he wished. He could, of course, have taken her to his bed before they reached Windsor and the actual marriage ceremony took place.

That could be dangerous. What if he got her with child as he so hoped to do at the earliest moment and met his end before the ceremony? There would be a disaster; and the child would be just another of his bastards.

No. If he were to take her to bed before and during the tedious journey to Windsor, then a ceremony there must be.

He sent for his priest and told him of his dilemma.

‘My lord,' was the answer, ‘the marriage must be solemnized with all ceremony due to the King and his new Queen.'

‘I know it, I know it,' said the King with a return to that irascibility which all had dreaded and which had abated considerably during the wooing period. ‘But you know my ardent nature. Would you have me anticipate the marriage vows?'

‘My lord, you would perjure your soul. And the Princess is no ordinary woman to be taken at your pleasure.'

‘I know that well, man. So there must be a ceremony. Oh.
nothing to make a noise about. A few words said over us. Come. No more arguments. Arrange it.'

And so it was arranged.

There at Ely the words were spoken and Adelicia became the wife of Henry I of England.

He found her submissive but not responsive; it was as he had thought.

Still, she was beautiful; she was young and appealing; and once she had a healthy boy growing within her he would be content.

The royal party made its way from Ely to Windsor and there waiting to greet them at the castle was Henry's old friend and chief adviser, Roger, Bishop of Salisbury. With him was his beautiful mistress, Matilda of Ramsbury whom Adelicia presumed to be his wife. She was a little puzzled because she had been under the impression that the clergy were not permitted to marry.

Roger was respectful; the beautiful Matilda was kind and as there had been so many strange revelations in her life during the last months, Adelicia accepted this as yet another. The laws of England must be different from those in her country.

Matilda carried Adelicia off to her apartments and there, with the assistance of a few women, helped her change her habit and prepare for the banquet which would celebrate their arrival.

Adelicia was struck by the outstanding beauty of Matilda and could scarcely take her eyes from her; she seemed awkward in her presence and very, very young.

‘You are going to be very happy,' Matilda told her. ‘The King will be an indulgent husband if you do all you can to please him.'

She was comforted.

In the meantime Roger had accompanied the King to his chamber and they talked alone together.

‘The marriage,' said Roger, ‘should take place without delay for you are an impatient man, my lord.'

‘Did you think, Roger, I would wait for the ceremony? We are already bedded.'

‘To my lord's satisfaction, I trust.'

‘She is a child, Roger. No more.'

‘I believe you are not averse to a young virgin.'

‘Virgin she doubtless was and is so no longer. I trust by now that the seed has been well and truly planted.'

‘It is a matter for rejoicing, my lord. But the ceremony?'

‘The priest married us at Ely and every night since, she has been in my bed.'

‘So there was a ceremony. That pleasures me for there are spies who watch our movements. I doubt not there would be indignation from the Duke of Louvaine were he to hear that his daughter had lost her virginity without gaining a marriage contract.'

‘Nay. I married her, but I'll do so again for the sake of the people. It would never do for it to be set abroad that there had been no ceremony. There would always be those to declare that the child, which I pray is now growing within her, was a bastard.'

‘The marriage must take place without delay and since Windsor is within my diocese I claim the right to perform it.'

‘And old, Ralph of Canterbury?'

‘He is in his dotage. Nay, I'll marry you here and there should be no delay, for the child the Queen gives you must be born within the correct space of time after the nuptials which have already taken place.'

‘Oh, never fear. When she tells me she is with child, I'll rejoice no matter if the child arrives a little soon for decency.'

‘Then I will make all preparations for the ceremony,' answered Roger.

It was hardly to be expected that the Archbishop of Canterbury would stand by while Roger of Salisbury snatched his privileges from under his nose.

Roger, who was an extremely ambitious man, was, however, determined not to lose one point in the battle for power. To marry the King and his new Queen would establish him in the eyes of the country as not only the most important man of the State – under the King, of course – but of the Church also.

It had been before Christmas when the party had arrived at Windsor and the King wished the matter to be settled before the season's celebrations began.

‘My one concern,' he said, ‘is that the ceremony be performed with expedition.'

But by this time, the news that Roger of Salisbury was to perform the marriage ceremony had spread throughout the country and Ralph and his adherents began to raise their protests.

The Archbishop's envoy arrived and demanded an audience with the King. Henry was exasperated but realized the need to placate Ralph. ‘You must explain to the Archbishop,' he said, ‘that I have made these arrangements because he partially lost his speech when he was overtaken by a fit which paralysed his lips to some extent and I believe that he would willingly forgo the irksome task of marrying us and that Roger, in his health and strength, would willingly perform the duty for him.'

Ralph laughed this explanation to scorn. All knew of the ambitions of Roger of Salisbury. All knew that he was living openly with his mistress. It was not fitting that such a man who was living an immoral life should perform the marriage ceremony for the King and Queen, and moreover it was improper because to conduct such a ceremony was the prerogative of the Archbishop of Canterbury and no other.

The King's ill temper flared up. He was heartily tired of Archbishops who thought because they were head of the Church of England – under the Pope of course – that they ruled the land. He had come through one quarrel with his Archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm, and he was not going through another.

Ralph immediately called an ecclesiastical council, the object of which was to decide whether the ceremony should be performed by the Bishop in whose diocese the royal pair were residing, or by the Archbishop of Canterbury who declared he had jurisdiction over all dioceses.

Meanwhile the King chafed. He had devoted himself to Adelicia, taking no mistresses, and he daily expected to hear that she was with child. Delay irritated him.

Adelicia was getting to know the Court. There was Stephen, the King's nephew, a handsome and very charming man who was gracious to her; she liked his wife Matilda very much for she was gentle and pleasant and told Adelicia how well she understood the strangeness she must be feeling now.

‘Stephen is a courteous gentleman and has never shown
aught but kindness to me,' Matilda told her, ‘but I well remember the first weeks of Court life after my marriage and how strange it all was after the Abbey where I was educated.'

Adelicia replied that she too found it very strange, but the King was kind to her and she would in time grow as contented with her lot as Matilda was with hers.

Matilda did not tell Adelicia how she was tormented by the infidelities of her husband as it seemed very likely the Queen would be in due course by those of hers, for once Adelicia was with child, Matilda knew that the King, having done his duty, would seek his pleasure in other quarters.

The commission finally decided that the honour of marrying the royal pair belonged to the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Ralph was triumphant and immediately set out for Windsor. Roger was angry. This meant more to him than performing a ceremony. It was a set-back to power. His goal was to see his family in all the important positions in the country and with a doddering old Archbishop as the Primate, he had believed he was already at the head of the Church.

Henry placated him. ‘Never mind, Roger. The old man has right on his side. And the council is behind him. He'll have to perform the ceremony. There's no doubt of that and I cannot put it off any longer. We shall have to have the Queen crowned though. That will be at Westminster and I promise you you shall officiate at that ceremony.'

Roger was appeased.

Ralph d'Escures made his painful journey from Canterbury to Windsor.

He had not been the same since his seizure and found travelling a great burden to him. Nevertheless he was not going to allow that upstart Roger of Salisbury to usurp his place, which was what he was trying to do on every occasion.

It was scandalous that Roger should live openly with his mistress. The King should order him to dismiss the woman. Perhaps it was not easy for a man who had had more mistresses than any in England to ask a subject to dismiss one. But kings were kings and allowed such a licence, though it was to be deplored; while churchmen who defied the law of Holy Church deserved excommunication.

Roger with his Matilda of Ramsbury and their sons and his nephew, who had a wife, made their own laws of which poorer members of the clergy were not allowed to avail themselves. Ralph wondered that the King, who was so meticulous in many ways, should allow this. It must be because he valued Roger and was eager to give him special privileges; moreover being nothing more or less than a lecher himself, he looked leniently on that sin in others.

Ralph regarded himself as a virtuous man because he had not been tormented for many years by any desires for women. Now that he was paralysed and his speech was impaired, a poor old man on the edge of the grave, naturally he gave no thought to such matters – except to condemn others who made them a too important part of their lives.

The King must get an heir. All agreed on that since God had seen fit to punish him by taking his only legitimate son – and small wonder. How could God have driven home the lesson better than by taking the one legitimate son of a man who had indiscriminately scattered illegitimate ones throughout the kingdom?

The Archbishop approved of the marriage and hoped God would forgive the King his past sins and favour him with a child, but he was not allowing anyone but himself to perform the ceremony.

Arriving at Windsor he was exhausted and must take to his bed. The King visited him there and reproved him for making such a journey when his health was in such poor state.

‘My lord,' gasped the Archbishop, speaking so that the King had to come close to hear, for his speech was at the best of times slightly slurred and when he was tired, very much so, ‘I know my duty.'

‘I had thought to spare you,' said the King. ‘The Bishop of Salisbury in whose diocese we are was very ready and willing to perform the ceremony.'

‘I doubt it not,' said Ralph grimly.

‘Now you are here, if you should not be well enough to rise from your bed on the morrow . . .'

‘I shall be well enough,' replied the Archbishop firmly. ‘I have spent many hours on my knees asking God to bless your union with a child.'

‘I thank you,' said the King, for he supposed that a man of Ralph's piety would be more likely to soften God's heart and so ensure a favourable answer to the petition than one such as himself. ‘I am confident I shall be so blessed. The Queen is young and I believe will bear many children.'

‘She is a good and pious lady,' replied Ralph, ‘and there seems no reason why
she
should not be favoured.' Ralph sighed. He was thinking of the scandals about the King. ‘My lord,' he said, ‘you should pray earnestly and long . . . and humbly. You have fathered so many in a manner which would not find favour in God's eyes.'

‘Yes. He has given me many children whom I love dearly. You know my son Robert of Gloucester . . .' The King's voice softened when he spoke of his favourite son, Nesta's boy, the fruit of early passion such as he could never hope to reach again. ‘What a fine son he is! God smiled on me on the day he was born.'

‘He frowned on the night when the White Ship went down taking with it your only legitimate son.'

‘Ay, and two of the others whom I loved dearly.'

‘God is not mocked,' replied Ralph. ‘Forget not that the sins we commit must be paid for.'

‘I paid for mine when I lost my William.'

‘It is for God to say whether you have paid in full.'

A plague on this pious old churchman! thought the King. Why must they always prophesy evil? It was the same with Anselm. They thought themselves so good that they could see nothing but the sins of others. Men like Ralph and Anselm had nothing to be proud of. In the King's eyes, men who did not desire women – ay, and satisfy their desires – were in some measure less than men. They had no desires and preached piety over those who had. Small wonder that he wanted to see merry men like Roger the Bishop of Salisbury in the Church, men who knew what it was to desire a woman. And what a woman Matilda of Ramsbury was! She reminded him in some ways of Nesta.

He was in no mood to listen to more of Ralph's preaching. He rose.

‘So,' he said, ‘tomorrow you will conduct the ceremony.'

The ceremony was performed in the chapel at Windsor and all wondered whether the aged Archbishop of Canterbury would survive it. So distorted was his speech that it was difficult to hear what he said; and during one or two moments it seemed that his tottering footsteps would falter.

The King fumed inwardly and thought what a nuisance the old man was; but he had learned, as his brother Rufus had before him, that trouble could be incurred through quarrels with the Church. He had anxieties enough. Normandy hung like a millstone about his neck. His brother Robert was incarcerated in Cardiff Castle, which was no less than he deserved. for if ever a man invited disaster that man was Robert. But Robert's son, William the Clito, still roamed Normandy and at any moment an insurrection could spring up in support of him. The governing of England, the holding of Normandy – these were troubles enough. Henry wanted no bickering with the Church. So this old man must perforce do what he considered his duty while Roger chafed because of what had been denied him.