The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [124]
The opportunity came with a widowed Countess, heiress to large estates. Henry sent for his brother and told him that he had a fine match in mind for him. William responded characteristically. He thanked his brother warmly for his efforts on his behalf, but when he married he must marry for love.
Henry greeted such a statement with roars of laughter. “Marry for gain, boy,” he said. “Love and marriage do not always go together but that does not mean you need not find love.”
But William was determined; it is amazing how strong the seemingly weak can be at times. Henry was fond of the boy. It had always been a comfort to have a young brother who was not planning to rise up against him and who bore no malice but only admiration for his success.
He asked William if he would be prepared to meet the lady and perhaps get to know her a little. William replied that that would be a pleasure, for he did want to please his brother who had taken such pains to get him happily settled. The outcome caused Henry a great deal of amusement and satisfaction. The pair met and in a few weeks William came to Henry, his eyes alight with happiness. He had fallen in love with the Countess and she with him; there was nothing they wanted more than to be joined in matrimony.
Henry was gleeful. He embraced his brother. He said William had never caused him a moment’s anxiety. Everything was set fair. Henry had provided for his brother. He was going to have the love match which suited his temperament and ideals, and the marriage would bring money into the family in the most agreeable way. What could have been more satisfactory?
And then Becket intervened.
The marriage could not take place because the bride and groom were second cousins, and in the eyes of the Church it would be no true marriage because of consanguinity.
Henry was furious. He cursed Becket. Here was the Church meddling again.
I was alarmed. I was afraid that if this matter were pursued Becket might raise the question of the legality of my marriage to Henry as there was a close blood tie between us. Our position was vulnerable. I had had my divorce from Louis because of the closeness of our relationship, and I was more closely related to Henry. What if Becket worked this out?
Henry was going to fight the matter out with Becket, but I reminded him of our own position and he saw the point. We had our children to think of. We did not want queries to be made concerning their legitimacy.
At length, with much gnashing of teeth, he agreed to let the matter of William’s marriage drop and the pair parted, for the bride’s family would not hear of a marriage forbidden by the Church.
It was yet another mark against Becket. The Philip de Brois case still rankled and Henry had made an oath that he would change the law.
We were at Westminster and Henry decided to delay no longer. He called together a meeting of the leading churchmen and the most important barons of the country.
When they were all assembled, he told them that for long he had been troubled about the crimes which were committed in the country and that he had pledged himself to restore that justice and respect for the law which had been the order of his grandfather’s day.
“It has been brought to my notice,” he said, “that numerous crimes have been committed by members of the Church who, when apprehended, immediately fly to the shelter of the Church which protects them from justice. During the years of my reign there have been over a hundred murders committed by men who, because they are priests, have never paid the penalty for their sin. There has been rape and robbery, and if the man who commits these crimes is a priest, all he has to do is stand up before his ecclesiastical friends and say, ‘I am innocent.