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So I had lost my protector.

This further disaster made me realize afresh how I longed to be shut away from conflict.

I just wanted to be alone, to meditate, to rest my weary limbs, to write of the past, to relive it all again and to ask myself whether what had happened to me had been due largely to myself.

I wanted to go back to Fontevrault.

Fontevrault

I NOW LOOK FORWARD TO passing the days which are left to me in the peace I find at Fontevrault.

My granddaughter was married to Louis Capet; John was crowned King of England, and he must now be realizing his responsibilities. Philip Augustus continued to alarm me, and as long as I lived I would do my utmost to see that his dream of destroying the Plantagenet Empire was never realized.

The days were slipping away . . . reading, writing, living over the past, reflecting on what might have been if one had acted differently. It was an amusing game.

John divorced Hadwisa of Gloucester. The marriage had never been a success. Henry had arranged it because of the immense wealth Hadwisa brought into the family, but that, of course, was before it was thought that John would be King. Hadwisa was childless, so the divorce was not a matter for regret.

However, John seemed incapable of doing anything without causing a great deal of trouble. In the first place he became infatuated with Isabella, the daughter of the Count of Angoulme. She was very young and very beautiful and she aroused such passions in John that he determined to have her. He would probably have abducted her if she had not been the daughter of a powerful man, but being so she was worthy of marriage.

Although he was bent on a union with her, he allowed negotiations to go ahead for the daughter of the King of Portugal. He thought that amusing. Another matter which gave him cause for mirth—and I must say I joined him in this—was that Isabella was betrothed to Hugh le Brun de Lusignan, the man who had had the temerity to seize me and demand La Marche for my release.

Of course the King of England was a far better proposition than Hugh le Brun, and the Count of Angoulme had little compunction in breaking Isabella’s engagement to Hugh le Brun and accepting John’s proposal for his daughter.

But what enemies John had made over this matter of his marriage! The King of Portugal and Hugh le Brun would never forgive him and would seize every opportunity for revenge; although I could not help feeling pleased about Hugh le Brun’s discomfiture, I did think that to alienate the King of Portugal was an act of sheer folly.

From my retreat I felt I could look out on events and that it would not be necessary for me to be caught up in them. But could I turn away? Sometimes I wondered to what end John’s folly would bring him. The care of such a wide empire had strained Henry’s resources to the full and he had been a great king. Richard had spent most of his reign out of England, and I had to admit that that had not been good; and now came John, with his reckless folly. Where would it end?

Constance had died. I hoped that meant that we should hear no more of Arthur’s claim. He was too young to do very much alone; and although he had his adherents, he was very much a figurehead only.

I felt we need not worry quite so much about Arthur . . . for a year or so at any rate; and then most probably I should not be here. I could not expect to live many more years.

I had always had my eyes on the French King. I would never forget those years I had spent as Louis’s Queen; France had been my home for so long that I felt I was part of it.

I had always been aware of the fact that Philip Augustus was a man to watch. I recognized a clever ruler when I saw one and, for all his faults, Philip Augustus was that. In spite of the fact that he had been in love with Richard, he had never dreamed of neglecting his country on that account. He had married Isabella of Hainault, and his son Louis was now the husband of my own sweet Blanche.

Isabella