The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [2]
While this was happening, Philippa gave birth to a son—my father.
There was a great deal of religious enthusiasm at that time. A certain monk who had once been a soldier and was the father of several children had what he called a revelation from God and became a recluse. He was known as Peter the Hermit and created a great stir when, having been on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he returned with such stories of the manner in which Christians were being treated that he attracted the attention of Pope Urban II. Together they preached about the wickedness of the villainous Turks who were desecrating the Holy Shrine, and such was the mystic power of Peter the Hermit that all over Europe men rallied to his call, eager to join the crusade which was to free Jerusalem from the Infidel.
My grandfather was caught up in the excitement, no doubt seeing that by such a venture he could wipe out his sins with one stroke and save himself years of wearying virtue. As an important ruler, he must set out in great style, and for that he needed money. He then did what in Philippa’s eyes must have been unforgivable. He sold Toulouse to Raymond—son of that other Raymond—without asking Philippa’s permission; and she, who was in Toulouse at the time, knew nothing about the transaction until Raymond came to take possession.
William found the Turk a formidable enemy and had the mortification of seeing his army cut to pieces in battle. He himself managed to escape, but all he came back with was some poems glorifying the crusade and telling of the cruelty of the wicked Infidel.
Philippa must have forgiven him, for she bore him two more children—there were five girls and another boy—but their relationship had been seriously impaired. She turned to religion and came under the influence of Robert d’Abrissel. I later took notice of this man for he founded Fontevrault, which consisted of four convents—two for women and two for men. He was the first of his kind to show a respect for women, and for that I applauded him. I came to love Fontevrault and could well imagine what a haven it would be to a woman who could embrace the cloistered life. I could not imagine myself doing so, but that did not stop my loving Fontevrault.
William had no interest in the place and did his best to discourage Philippa from the religious life she was leading. He deplored d’Abrissel’s view of women for he wanted to keep them in that niche which men of his kind arranged for them. Had I been older, I would have made known my disagreement with him. I should have enjoyed doing battle with him on the subject.
He ridiculed d’Abrissel and talked of building a convent for courtesans. He was the sort of man who enjoyed shocking all those about him. Philippa was determined to pursue her own way of life; and the final break between them came with the appearance of Dangerosa, which was more than any woman could be expected to endure.
So Philippa left him forever and retired to Fontevrault.
I was called Eleanor, named after my mother, for Eleanor meant “That other Anor.”
They made much of me. Like many sinners my grandfather and grandmother were indulgent. I doubt the virtuous Philippa or the Viscount of Chtellerault would have given me so much loving attention. My mother was there in the background, gentle, rather timid, an alien in this flamboyant Court. She was devoted to me and I know did her best to counteract the effect of the spoiling. I am afraid she was not very successful in this; but I did love her dearly and she represented a steadying influence in my young life which was certainly necessary.
When my sister Petronilla arrived, I was not quite sure of the effect she would have on my position; but very soon I was in charge of her. The elders watched me with amusement as I exerted my influence over her and by the time she could walk she was my abject slave. She was pretty and charming, but just as my father lacked the charisma of my grandfather, so Petronilla, for all her prettiness and charm, could only take second place to