The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [69]
Louis was growing more and more worried about Geoffrey of Anjou. The man with his aggressive son seemed to have little respect for anyone; and Matilda, though she despised her husband, doted on her eldest son—she had two others—for it was on young Henry that she pinned her hopes. If she could not have the throne of England for herself, she was determined that it should be bestowed on her son.
Trouble was brewing and matters came to a head when Geoffrey of Anjou captured a castle on the borders of Poitou and Anjou which belonged to Gerald Berlai, whose duty it was to guard the frontier. Not only did Geoffrey take the castle but he made Gerald and his family his prisoners, treating them with some severity.
It was sufficient provocation for Louis to take up arms. He was ranging himself beside the Count of Champagne, who naturally supported his brother Stephen and wished to see Stephen’s son, Eustace, inherit the crown after his father. And that was something which Geoffrey of Anjou and his son Henry were determined should not happen.
I was surprised that Louis allowed himself to be drawn into war. Suger was against it, and although Suger was getting old, he still influenced Louis more than anyone. But Louis could not, even now, forget Vitry. The planting of cedars, the building of a new church on the site of the old . . . none of these things could expunge that terrible memory from his mind. He still thought of it. The crusade which had been meant to lay the ghost to rest forever had not entirely done so—probably because it had been such an outstanding failure.
I talked to him about the proposed campaign. The situation between us was growing more and more embarrassing. He knew I desperately wanted that divorce and was ready to face anything to get it. He was wavering, but the subject was unpleasant to him. But I did discuss this conflict with him.
I asked him why he, who so hated war, was now ready to undertake it again.
“It is my duty,” he said, with that stubborn look which I knew so well. “The Plantagenet has ill-treated Berlai. I cannot allow that. Moreover, these Angevins have to be taught a lesson. They are the Devil’s breed. That is a well-known fact. The Devil came to them in the shape of a beautiful woman who bore them sons and who would never go into church until she was forced to. Then, when confronted with the Host, she turned back into the spirit she had always been—and was never seen again.”
“Louis, you don’t believe such a tale!”
“I believe it,” he said.
I would have laughed him to scorn but I remembered what had happened when my father had been confronted by Bernard carrying the Host.
“Vitry belonged to Thibault of Champagne,” he said. “I want to help him now.”
“Will you never forget Vitry?”
“Sometimes I fear not.”
“So you are going to war. Is this a further penance?” Louis was silent.
“Suger thinks it unwise,” I went on. “He says you are fighting King Stephen’s battles for him.”
“Suger does not understand.”
What a fool he was! How I longed to be rid of him.
He had another grievance. Young Henry Plantagenet had not, as his vassal, sworn fealty to him for Normandy. It was almost as though he were saying: I owe no fealty to France. I am the heir to the throne of England.
Such arrogance, Louis had decided, must be curbed.
Thus it was that he found himself marching to the borders of Normandy.
Louis’s war-like efforts were almost certain to come to nothing. He had not even made camp when he was overcome by a fever, and it was necessary for him to return to Paris. He did not come alone. He brought his army with him. I thought the fever might have been brought on by his extreme distaste for the action he was about to take. But he was certainly ill when he returned and the doctors said he must rest in bed.
Suger was quite pleased. He visited the palace and told Louis that this was God’s way of preventing a war which should never have been contemplated. What had he hoped to do? Wrest Normandy from Matilda’s son? He would never have done