The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [184]
Young Henry did not want war; he only wanted the spoils of war. He soon discovered that real war was very different from the mock variety he enjoyed at jousts. War was hardship, exhaustion and possibly death.
Geoffrey escaped from Limoges on a pretext of raising men and money. Henry realized that his father’s tactics would very soon end in victory. He could not endure the thought of being his father’s captive and one night crept out of town and joined some supporters who had raised an army in a nearby town. He was immediately told that money was needed if they were to continue with the campaign. Soldiers had to be paid. Henry did not understand these matters. He was the King—if in name only—and men must do their duty without pay; but his captains informed him that they would desert if not paid. Many of them were mercenaries. The money had to be found.
“The men must wait . . . wait,” he cried petulantly.
They came to an abbey where the monks received them as they wished to visit the shrines, and according to custom they were given food.
After the meal, when they visited the shrines, Henry was struck by the beauty of the monastery’s treasures. An idea occurred to him. The sale of some of the chalices alone would feed an army for a month. What use were they in an abbey when he was so desperate? I wonder how long it took him to persuade himself. I am sure his captains attempted to warn him of his folly.
But Henry was reckless; he had betrayed himself to his father, and he guessed the old man could live another ten years with the knowledge that his son had made two attempts on his life. He had crowned him; he was King; nothing could alter that; but his father was a sly man; he might even attempt to do to his son what that son had tried to do to the father. He made up his mind. His need was great. They were going to rob the shrines of their valuable ornaments, sell them and with the money raise an army to take Aquitaine.
The monks were shocked beyond belief. They could not understand how any professed Christian could desecrate the shrines. But Henry did, and with his army rode on.
Robbing monasteries and abbeys was easy. There was no—or little—resistance. This was the way.
The countryside was in terror at the approach of Henry’s army. Everywhere monks locked their doors against them. This proved useless. What were gates against an army? They battered their way in.
I wished I could have talked to my son. He was like a man possessed. He had offended against all the laws of God and man; he had attempted to murder his father, and now he was robbing holy shrines. He was frantic, running on blindly . . . shutting his mind to all thought of the consequences of his actions because he dared not face them.
He came at length to the monastery of Grandmont, which contained the shrine of Rocamadour.
He was wealthy now. He could raise a bigger and better army, but the lust for plunder stayed with him. He knew that he was damned but instead of repenting his sins he wanted to add to them. He wanted to defy God as he had defied his father.
Those about him would have held back; they wanted to finish with this way of life; they wanted to return to their homes and forget the conquest of Aquitaine and the crown of England.
Perhaps he kept up a spirit of bravado. I think that would be typical of him. And when his men showed a reluctance to enter the monastery he would have called them cowards.
They broke in; he took the treasures from the shrines of Rocamadour.
That night Henry was in the grip of a fever. Those about him believed that God had judged him and condemned him. Perhaps they were right. As he was so ill, they look him into the house of a smith called Stephen so that he could receive some comfort.
His bravado vanished; his fear of what was in store for him was uppermost. He was sure he was going to die and that this was God’s just punishment.