13

The Golden Years

I have called the period from the coronation in 1274 up to 1281 ‘the Golden Years’ because this is how they appear from the outside, at first glance. The snapshot is the glorious Crusader king and queen, turning their hands to the work of peaceful government and business – and of course raising a family – with everything apparently going smoothly. However, looked at more closely, it becomes apparent that these years, which were to take Eleanor from her mid-thirties to her fortieth birthday, were a time of ceaseless work on many fronts for the king and queen, and also for those in their inner circle. While some sense of the individual jobs which fell within Eleanor’s remit have been conveyed by the previous chapters, it is in following the chronological account that one can begin to grasp the intensity of the life which she lived over these years.

Following the completion of the first parliament of the reign, at the end of October the king and queen set off north via Luton for the trip into the Northampton–Leicester area of Eleanor’s existing and dower lands discussed in Chapter 10. It was at Northampton that the king (in company with that notable denizen of Savoy, Otho de Grandison) renewed the pension of Count Philippe of Savoy for his homage in relation to the ‘English’ Savoyard lands. Officially, this tour was also originally intended to press on further to Shrewsbury, to meet with Llywelyn ap Gruffudd. But that part was called off, a little mysteriously, on the pretext that Edward was taken ill, possibly from a recurrence of his wounds – a suggestion not entirely borne out by the amount of travelling done.¹

The party then moved back inland via Silverstone, convenient for a wardship just acquired by Eleanor at Haversham, along the modern A43 towards Woodstock. There, of course, lay one of the principal royal residences since the time of Henry II, which offered a congenial spot to spend the first Christmas in England as king and queen.

Once Christmas was over, Anthony Bek and Otho de Grandison were sent off to Paris to try to raise finance to pay off some of the more insistent creditors. The royal party was also on the move on the first day of the new year, after a bare week’s rest – touring this time towards the west, taking in Marlborough, Amesbury and the palace of Clarendon – and the proposed Wiltshire holdings for Eleanor’s revised dower. Some meeting with Eleanor of Provence, who held Marlborough as part of her dower, would have been inevitable during this visit, particularly since the elder Eleanor was about to undertake a visit to France and seems to have been in less than perfect health. Once this visit was completed, the party headed towards Eleanor’s existing lands in Ringwood and Beaulieu and then back via Romsey and Wherwell to Windsor for Margaret’s birth.²

This pregnancy would have been a doleful one for Eleanor – not only was there the loss of Henry, for whom there would have been considerable grief despite the absence of contact, but just weeks later Edmund of Lancaster’s sixteen-year-old wife, Aveline de Forz, died in childbirth – a reminder of the risks which Eleanor was once again undertaking. Then, in late February 1275, Edward’s sister Margaret of Scotland died. It seems beyond doubt that baby Margaret, whose birth occurred more or less exactly at this time, was named for this sister of Edward’s, who had been one of Eleanor’s early companions in her married days in England and who had so recently helped to make the celebration of the coronation such a joyous event. And then, while Eleanor was just emerging from her lying-in, came the news of the death of Edward’s other sister, Beatrice, Eleanor’s close companion from the Crusade. Beatrice died in London in late March, inferentially giving birth to a child named for Eleanor, Eleanor of Brittany (later Abbess of Fontevrault). When Beatrice’s grieving husband left for his lands, their sons John and Henry remained to be raised by Eleanor and Edward with their children.³

As soon as Margaret had been born, the party were off again, on the combined pilgrimage and property-scoping visit via Aylesbury into Suffolk described in Chapter 10. They then rushed to return to London for the spring parliament, summoned for 22 April, but which did not actually commence until the 26th, since Edward had still been in Essex on 22 April. That parliament had a full programme, including the First Statute of Westminster, which reflected the materials gained during the Hundred Rolls inquiry. Thus the Hundred Rolls’ theme of setting the country to right is prominently reflected in the Act’s preamble. In the terms one can see both Edward’s personal aim of restoring royal rights and his broader and more popular aim of improving law and order generally. The law and order agenda will actually have been much in the minds of the inner circle around Edward, following a serious incident at Canterbury in early 1275 when Otho de Grandison was attacked by a number of citizens, resulting in a heavy fine being levied against the citizens as a whole.⁴

Once Parliament had broken up in July, the royal party were off for the busy summer programme, commencing with small stops at Kempton and the children’s main base of Windsor. The main summer programme had two themes: an attempt to take the homage of Llywelyn, and an assessment of Eleanor’s properties and the proposed dower assignment. So through Buckinghamshire, with stops conveniently near Eleanor’s properties at Risborough and Aylesbury, the party went, to Oxford, where a civic reception had to be met, and doubtless appeased, when Edward would not enter the town itself owing to the superstition that St Frideswide would exercise his displeasure on any king entering the town. Business came to join them there, in the form of Gaston de Béarn, who was committed to the custody of Sir Stephen de Pencestre, and a request from Philip of Savoy to be pardoned 1,000 marks owed to the late king. After a stop at Woodstock, it was North via Kenilworth to Eleanor’s properties at Derby and the Peak and Macclesfield, and then on to Chester itself, where in September Edward had summoned Llywelyn to render his homage. There the court kicked its heels for a couple of weeks while Llywelyn refused to come over the border, and Edward refused to go to him. Edward issued a further peremptory summons for London in October 1275.

From Chester, the court moved across the country via Healey and Heywood in Lancaster, Lichfield in Stafford and Merevale in Warwickshire and Leicestershire to the heart of the Leicestershire–Rutland–Northampton territory which was to form one of the major blocks of Eleanor’s property empire. This was combined with another stay at the royal hunting lodge at Geddington. From there the party headed back at top speed – reaching Windsor for a short visit to the children in less than a week and passing on to Westminster for the second parliament of the year. By the time of their return, Eleanor was pregnant yet again.⁵

This parliament is particularly interesting in that it saw the introduction of the Statute of Jewry, which was a quid pro quo for a much-needed injection of funds from Parliament into the royal pocket. The Act met the many complaints about Jewish moneylending, and more specifically the trade in debts to the Jews entered into by some rich Christian speculators (such as Richard of Cornwall, and latterly Eleanor herself), which had proliferated again since the deal which had been part of the price for Crusade funding. The means of providing a remedy went to the root of the problem: under the terms of the statute, Jewish moneylending was outlawed completely. Such satisfaction did this measure give that Edward was able to raise a fairly substantial tax to assist with his towering debts.

But the statute had other interesting features; contrary to the current trend in Europe, the statute made some efforts to assist the Jewish population in that it permitted them to live ‘by lawful trade and by their labour’ and officially offered them the king’s peace and recorded his will that his sheriffs and bailiffs preserve and defend them. As such, it was a notably more broadminded approach that that of, say, Simon de Montfort, who believed in the virtues of encouraging his supporters to kill Jews, or Eleanor of Provence, who at about this time expelled all Jews from her dower property. However, along with the more tolerant approach, a considerable residue of prejudice remained: the statute also decreed Jews were only to live in the king’s towns, and effectively in ghettos, with no Christian among them. It also notoriously put into law the Vatican’s demand that all Jews over the age of seven wear a yellow felt badge (shaped like the Mosaic tablets) on their outer garment. Although this latter part of the legislation has been much seized on as demonstrating an anti-Semitic approach on the part of Edward, that is hardly a fair criticism, bearing in mind the fact that the Church had required such a distinction since the Fourth Lateran Council in 1213, that it had been officially enforced in England since 1218, and that even Alfonso X in Castile was by now beginning to yield to pressure on this item.⁶

Overall, the statute may be described as an attempt to find an acceptable modus vivendi for the Jewish population as contributors to the king’s wealth. Can this middle way be traced at all to Eleanor’s influence? Parts of it seem to find their inspiration in similar initiatives attempted by Louis IX, but there is certainly some reason to discern Eleanor’s hand in its final form. Certainly it seems likely that, without Eleanor’s influence, Edward would have been much more minded to follow his mother’s approach; there are indeed some suggestions that he did consider expulsion at this time. Further, the provision in 1280 whereby the Jews were to listen to weekly conversion sermons preached by the Dominicans seems to hint at her influence. There is also something of the Castilian approach of encouraging broader Jewish participation in trade in the provisions of the Statute of Jewry, which enabled Jews to buy houses on behalf of the king or to take lands to farm. Finally, the overall thrust of the statute was commercial; in effect, the Jews were given a stay of execution on the basis that they were considered likely to have a continuing commercial utility to the Crown. This balance is consistent with Eleanor’s own dealings with her Jewish contacts and also vividly echoes the approach of the Castilian monarchy during Eleanor’s childhood, where the position of the Jews was stoutly defended because of their considerable commercial utility to the Castilian throne. Eleanor, of course, is not the only possible source of influence in this regard; there is certainly some evidence that Robert Burnell wished to make the affairs of the Jewish population workable. It is perhaps most likely that these two moderating influences worked together upon Edward in arriving at the approach which the statute encapsulated.⁷

The October parliament also coincided with a second refusal to render homage by Llywelyn, who refused to comply with Edward’s summons on the grounds that he did not consider himself safe in England; he cheekily demanded that the Earl of Gloucester and Robert Burnell stand as hostages for his safety. At more or less the same time arrived the news that Llywelyn had married (by proxy) Eleanor de Montfort, daughter of Simon and Edward’s aunt Eleanor. His defiance was now plain; the result was a vote in Parliament of funds to cover a Welsh war.⁸

Of course, the most important matter for Eleanor at this period will have been the finalisation of her revised dower assignment, which was approved in October 1275. Having visited key areas for that assignment and viewed potential properties during the tours made since their return, she and her advisers will have been spending considerable periods of time finalising exactly what was to be assigned in various areas; and where visits by Eleanor had not yet been possible, evaluating reports from the staff despatched to deputise for her in those areas. The result, as noted earlier, was a considerable block of property based in several different areas which was to form the nucleus of her acquisitions for the years to come.

Planning for those further acquisitions began at once, with assignment of various debts secured on strategically sited locations so that further purchases could then begin to be sought. Also, there would be planning for the revenue side of the acquisitions. So at this point, we find one Geoffrey de Lewknor writing apologetically to Eleanor, explaining that he can’t find the certificate for the results of the Leicestershire eyre at this moment, but that he will send it as soon as he can lay hands on it. Interestingly, too, Eleanor’s unusual head for business seems to have attracted personal petitions outside her own business – Lucy de Grey wrote to her in this period asking for help with her accounts.⁹

Another matter which claimed Eleanor’s attention at this point was the crisis in Castile, where Alfonso’s year had started badly and then deteriorated. Early in the year he had been forced by the Pope to drop his claim to the Holy Roman Empire. Glory in Germany was therefore off the menu. On his return to Castile, he therefore decided to resume the Reconquista against Granada, where there was a civil war going on. A concatenation of catastrophes followed. In autumn he sent a force to engage the Moorish and Moroccan forces. The resulting meeting was disastrous for the Castilians, whose general was among the dead. To add bad to worse, at around the same time Alfonso’s eldest son, Ferdinand de la Cerda (‘the Hairy’), died, leaving two small sons by his marriage to Blanche of France – and a highly sensitive inheritance issue between them and Alfonso’s second son, Sancho. For a final touch, in October Sancho personally averted disaster in a second battle. The net result was that, by the end of the year, Alfonso had to sue for peace with the Almohads, rather than pursuing the Reconquista – the very obverse of his father’s success. Yet it was the succession issue created by the death of Ferdinand and the rise in Sancho’s prestige which was to haunt him longest and most seriously.¹⁰

Back in England, as soon as Parliament rose in November the court was off again. The first stop was the Tower of London itself, to oversee progress of the building works which had been started here soon after the coronation; the disrepair caused by the failure to progress Henry III’s plans and the collapse of the great gate in 1240 doubtless was very apparent on Edward and Eleanor’s return. How much of the current look of the Tower is owed to Edward’s works and how much to Henry’s original plans is a matter of debate. However, it seems clear that, as well as dealing with dilapidations, a considerable upscaling in size and defences – in particular the size of the moat – was part of the later works. It is also likely that its concentric pattern, which afforded multiple lines of defence and was familiar from Crusader castles, was an Edwardian innovation and may well have been linked to the architect in charge of the works, Brother John of the Order of St Thomas of Acre. While the works had an obvious purpose militarily, London was not actually under threat and the statement created by the building was more in the way of a manifesto by Edward that he was a strong king who would defend his rights. Such a message was of course pertinent to the historically troublesome Londoners, but it was also one worth making to the magnates, commons and foreign visitors alike, after a number of years when royal authority had been lacking. One can perhaps also sense Castilian overtones: the Siete Partidas adjures kings to preserve and defend castles for the good of the kingdom.

At the same time, the royal apartments themselves were undergoing a revamp: new apartments in St Thomas’s Tower were created as part of the project and furnished in Eleanor’s favourite colours of green and red. Tellingly, too, before Eleanor ever set foot in it Edward had spent considerable sums of money refurbishing the gardens of the Tower: at least 13,000 turves were laid and pear trees, rose trees and lily bulbs were all deployed.¹¹

Once business at the Tower had been examined, in December 1275 the party moved off to visit more of Eleanor’s properties. This time, after a stop at Marlborough and Upavon near the new dower acquisitions at Bedwyn and Wexcombe and Wimborne (next to her manor of Ringwood), it was on for another scanty Christmas holiday. This was a mere five days at the noxious Gillingham – which, we will be unsurprised to find, was very close to the lands which Eleanor had acquired in wardship at Compton Chamberlayne. The next move was to Charminster and Bindon, which were well situated for reviewing some properties which Eleanor had in mind to acquire (and did shortly thereafter acquire) in the neighbourhood of Dorchester before heading back to the New Forest property – which obviously had the added advantage of providing excellent hunting ground.

After all this movement, the party finally came to rest for a few weeks in January 1276 at Winchester, where the king’s intervention was needed in a long-standing quarrel between the citizens. This was probably the venue for the wedding of Edward’s brother Edmund to Blanche of Artois, the widow of Henri, Count of Champagne and King of Navarre and cousin to Eleanor through her grandmother Blanche of Castile. Blanche of Atrois had lost her only son in the most appalling circumstances – he was dropped from the battlements of a castle by a careless nurse. Her daughter Jeanne, heiress of Navarre, had been destined to marry Eleanor and Edward’s son Henry, but after his death the previous year she had been snapped up by the French king as a wife for his son Philip. The marriage with Blanche was therefore very much second best; but it had its attractions, not least in that it brought Champagne and Navarre under English control during Jeanne’s minority, since Blanche was regent for her daughter. It also appears to have been a successful and harmonious marriage on a personal level, with the Lancasters being close associates of Eleanor and Edward for the rest of Eleanor’s life. Interestingly, the regency of Champagne and Navarre was exercised through Eleanor’s cousin Jean of Brienne. While the Brienne family’s good standing in the French court made this a politic move, Eleanor’s influence seems possible in this appointment.¹²

In the interim, a great piece of excitement had occurred. Eleanor de Montfort was captured on the high seas on her way to join her new husband, Llywelyn, in Wales and was brought to England in genteel captivity. Her brother Amaury, who was escorting her, was despatched off into rather less genteel captivity, in which he was to stay for some years. It seems likely that Eleanor de Montfort was initially received at court during this period, before being banished to Windsor, where she spent the next three years as a bargaining chip between Edward and Llywelyn. Nor was she the only captive making her appearance at court at this time – Gaston de Béarn returned to make his submission to Edward and to be released. It is doubtful, however, whether anyone present thought that this was the end of his troublemaking. Meanwhile, the news of the death of their friend Gregory X, which occurred in early 1276, will have been a sadness, particularly to Eleanor, who had maintained a friendly correspondence with him. It was also a cause for concern going forward, since no replacement was likely to be as well disposed to them, in particular as regards disposing of the papal tenth, as their crusading companion; and so it was to prove.¹³

Late in February, the court passed to Marlborough and then to the favoured destination of Quenington, before heading up via Oxfordshire into Rutland and Lincolnshire for the entire month of March. Again the influence of Eleanor’s property empire is manifest. The trip involved visiting her dower lands of Temple Bruerne and Sixhills, the former being just a mile or so from lands recently acquired by Eleanor at Nocton and Dunston and the latter being situated near her properties at Gayton le Marsh, Tothill, Lincoln and Caistor. Via a stay at Barton-upon-Humber, two properties from the dower in the East Riding of Yorkshire were accessible as well. Then, in an echo of the previous year, there was a rush back south. In April, the party passed back at speed via some of the northern Northamptonshire properties to Kempton, arriving just days before the birth of Berengaria, who arrived on 1 May 1276. The court thereafter moved to Westminster to attend Parliament throughout May, with Eleanor following once her lying-in was complete.¹⁴

With the dower and the immediate post-dower acquisitions now safely established and reviewed, the summer of 1276 offered the chance for a tour with very little reference to Eleanor’s properties. The party ranged through Sussex, Kent and a little bit of Essex before returning to London in late July. However, this was not idle holidaymaking. It fulfilled at least two functions. While it provided an opportunity for Edward to survey the problems of the once prosperous port of Winchelsea, which was in the process of being overrun by the sea, the route chosen also reflected one of Eleanor’s main preoccupations in the year of 1276 – the promotion of the Dominican Order.

As has already been mentioned, Eleanor’s family had close associations with the order, and she was to demonstrate a clear preference for them throughout her life. Acting in their favour doubtless seemed particularly apposite at a time when the first Dominican Archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Kilwardby, was now incumbent, and the new Pope, Innocent V, was also of that order. It was therefore during this year that the London chapter of the Order moved from Holborn, where they had commenced their mission in fairly constrained surroundings opposite a tannery, though they had subsequently extended their holdings southwards through the area now known as Lincoln’s Inn. In 1276, the mayor and aldermen of London gifted the order with property around two streets leading down to the Thames: the area now named Blackfriars after them. The Dominicans’ London chapter was based there, at Baynard’s Castle, from the completion of works in the 1290s. It seems that the impetus for this move came from the Archbishop of Canterbury and Eleanor. The works involved, however, were major and had required authority from Edward I to remove the city wall between the river and Ludgate and rebuild it around their precinct. Eleanor’s influence can be seen in this permission and in later benefactions made directly by Edward to the chapter.

This Dominican theme was also featured in the summer tour, which featured a stay at Chichester to coincide with the translation of the body of the late bishop St Richard De Wych, the great supporter of the Dominicans in England prior to Eleanor’s advent. Given that Henry III had refused to recognise Richard as bishop for many years, the hand of Eleanor as supporter of the order appears discernible in this decision. The foundation of the Chichester Dominicans, of which Eleanor was the major patron, probably occurred at the same time and with her support.¹⁵

After the Chichester visit, there was a stop in Lewes, which will have offered opportunities to look back to the stressful times of the war, before moving along the coast through Kent to Canterbury and then on to visit Eleanor’s new dower properties in Essex, Rayleigh and Eastwood, before the return to London.

During the late summer which followed, Eleanor remained busy: in August the king and queen were back on the road in the vicinity of Eleanor’s properties and dower lands in Hampshire and the New Forest, as well as Somerset (including Bristol) and Gloucestershire, before returning again to London for Parliament in October. At this point, the key issue was the continued refusal by Llywelyn to attend to render homage – at least not unless he was granted a safe conduct guaranteed by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the release of Eleanor de Montfort. In the face of what now appeared a contumelious refusal, it was inevitable that there followed in November a positive decision to call the feudal host and go to war the next year. The main Marcher lords were immediately ordered to take charge of affairs at the key points, Warwick being placed at Chester, Mortimer at Montgomery and de Chaworth at Carmarthen. The muster was set for July 1277, at Worcester. From then on, the focus of the court was around preparations for the war, with moves being limited around Windsor and the Gloucestershire–Worcestershire area until the end of February 1277.¹⁶

Around this time, further disquieting news reached Eleanor from Castile. Alfonso’s position had been going from bad to worse over the succession issue. Philip III of France understandably wanted to see his nephews, Ferdinand de la Cerda’s sons, acknowledged as heirs of Alfonso. This would have been the position had Ferdinand been king, and was the result under Alfonso’s own revised legal codes. However, traditional Spanish law indicated that the correct heir was Ferdinand’s younger brother Sancho, who was also of military age and had a proven track record. Alfonso’s court, always prone to splits along party lines and already magnetised on the issue of reformed code versus traditional law, had polarised violently on this issue. One side, led by Blanche of France, Ferdinand’s widow, and Queen Violante, upheld the cause of the child Alfonso de la Cerda. The other party, headed by Fadrique, who had been installed as his brother’s adviser following their reconciliation in 1272, endorsed Sancho’s claim. Alfonso was caught in the middle. Acting on Fadrique’s advice, in 1276 Alfonso endorsed Sancho’s claim. The result was a rapid deterioration in relations with France; Alfonso consequently fell out badly with Fadrique, and in 1277 (possibly in a fit of irrationality caused by his growing physical illness) actually had him assassinated. Both Alfonso’s action and the acutely weak position which prompted it will have been a considerable grief and embarrassment to Eleanor.¹⁷

According to the chroniclers, the spring of 1277 was an utterly miserable one, with storms and floods in January giving way to wall-to-wall rain in March; all in all it was an unpleasant time to be on the move, still less to be trying to organise men and materiel. Over this period, the usual complement of the royal court on the move was boosted by what was effectively a recall of the crusading team of 1270. Among these were Roger Clifford, Otho de Grandison, John de Vescy, Payn de Chaworth and Robert Tybetot, as well as Edmund of Lancaster, himself a co-Crusader and Marcher lord by virtue of his holdings at Carmarthen and Cardigan. Other experienced names were the redoubtable Roger Mortimer, William Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, and the young Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln.¹⁸

So in February 1277, with the early stages of the campaign in the capable hands of seasoned battle commanders, the royal party left for a dual-purpose tour of East Anglia. On the one hand, Edward seems to have visited every shrine of note in the area and made offerings. The prominent venues of Walsingham and Bromholm, which Edward and Eleanor will have visited in Henry III’s train, obviously feature; but so too do the lesser-known Augustinian priory in Cambridge and the Dominican house of Horsham, as well as the abbey of Hulme and the chapel of Worstead. On the other hand, many of the stops were convenient places for Eleanor to conduct a survey of her properties and potential acquisitions. Bromholm, for example, did not just boast a fragment of the True Cross – it was also excellently situated for her key Aylsham–Cawston group of properties. Indeed, additions at Burgh and Cawston were made very shortly afterwards. The Cambridgeshire stops in turn were close to her holdings at Soham and Dullingham, and there was actually a night’s stay at the manor of Foulmire, which was later to be granted to her in wardship.¹⁹

Meanwhile, further preparations were still afoot. In particular, learning from the mistakes both of Henry II and Henry III, Edward placed massive orders to ensure that the supply chain for the army was well provisioned prior to the parliament in April. Even by this stage the campaign could be seen to be going well, with Llywelyn pushed back into Gwynedd and his support crumbling. The lords of South Wales agreed to pay homage by spring 1278 and the key castle of Dolforwyn (only just completed by Llywelyn) had fallen after only a week’s siege. Thus the royal party was able to contemplate a stop at Windsor, where the unfortunate Eleanor de Montfort awaited the outcome of the war, probably with the royal nursery, before the departure to the final stage of the campaign in June.

In July, final preparations were made in Gloucester, Worcester (where the bulk of the invasion force mustered) and Chester. At the latter venue, a fleet of thirty-five ships, some from the Cinque Ports and others from a variety of locations including Gascony, was assembled. Towards the end of the month the king was at Basingwerk, near a spur of rock called the Flint, where a new castle was begun by late July. Characteristically, despite yet another impending baby, conceived some time in spring, Eleanor did not stay in Chester but parked herself at Shotwick Castle, halfway between Chester and the works at Flint – within easy reach of Edward.²⁰

One point of interest in relation to the campaign are the echoes which we see of the principles of Vegetius, as set out in the book which Eleanor had given Edward on Crusade. So again the records show Edward’s concern for the question of provisions and supplies, with further orders for grain going out as late as 17 July: ‘An army unsupplied with grain and other necessary equipment will be vanquished without striking a blow.’ Also borrowed from classic Roman principles (most famously deployed by Caesar, but also advised by Vegetius) was Edward’s operation, which commenced in late July, to deforest either side of the route which his army would take to prevent ambush, an endeavour which involved transporting nearly 2,000 woodmen.²¹

With these final preparations in hand, in August Edward and Eleanor felt able to take yet another break from campaigning and head back into Cheshire for the ceremonies attending the foundation of the abbey of Vale Royal. The Mass of consecration, invoking divine assistance for the Welsh plans of the pious king, was performed by Robert Burnell, assisted by the Bishop of St Asaph. Edward laid the cornerstone, and Eleanor laid a stone for herself and one for Alphonso. Stones were also laid by the major figures in the royal retinue: the earls of Gloucester, Cornwall, Warenne, and Warwick, Maurice de Craon, Jean de Grailly, Robert Tybetot, Robert de Vere and Otho de Grandison.²²

With the spiritualities seen to, on 23 August the army set out, proceeding as far as Rhuddlan, where work immediately began on another new castle. They then pressed on to Deganwy. From here, Edward was able to send the trusty pairing of John de Vescy and Otho de Grandison and a force transported by the sailors of the Cinque Ports to carry out another Vegetian strategy – to overcome the enemy by surprise and famine. The party did not engage the Welsh forces but instead occupied Anglesey, the breadbasket of Wales. At a stroke this deprived Llywelyn of his own supply store, and annexed to Edward’s army an ample supply to remain in the field for the foreseeable future. The result was inevitable; Llywelyn had to submit before winter. Although his formal submission did not come until November, it is probable that he had conveyed his submission by mid-September, when the itinerary finds Edward back at Chester, albeit spending time on and off at Rhuddlan, doubtless supervising building works. Meanwhile, Eleanor divided her time between Chester, Shotwick and Shrewsbury.

By 9 November, the Rhuddlan castle had progressed sufficiently that Edward was able to take Llywelyn’s submission there, in all probability accompanied by Eleanor. The terms of the submission, negotiated by Otho de Grandison, Anthony Bek and Robert Tybetot, effectively restored the high-water mark of English power over Wales, and thus marked a very successful and satisfactory campaign.²³

However the accruing costs of the building programme which accompanied and outlasted the campaign should not be neglected. At Rhuddlan, the cost of the town was about £10,000, of which over £3,000 was spent in the first eighteen months. Much of this seems to have gone to ditch diggers and carpenters. The considerably smaller town of Flint cost £7,000.²⁴

The royal party, boosted by Llywelyn and his entourage, left the emerging new castle on 20 November and headed back to Westminster for Christmas and the Welsh prince’s formal public submission. Also on the agenda was the imminent birth of Eleanor’s next child. The trip commenced with a week surrounding Eleanor’s birthday at Shrewsbury and a visit to Robert Burnell’s house at Acton Burnell, close to Watling Street and therefore convenient for the journey back to London. At this point, the house was probably no more than a well-built manor house; the red-sandstone house that substantially stands to this day was not commenced until 1284.

The party arrived in London around 23 December 1277 – as usual, only a few days before Eleanor’s due date. On Christmas Day, Llywelyn submitted and swore fealty to Edward. Eleanor’s next child (probably a daughter) was born on around 3 January 1278 at Westminster and either died at birth or very shortly thereafter, there being no mention of a child being born in any of the chronicles. Eleanor certainly lay in for a time, since records exist of venison being sent to her by Edward late in January from his tour of Kent, which followed on from a ten-day stay on his part at the Tower, probably with the younger children. However, given that Edward did not return until late in February, and then only for a two-day layover before the court was off into Gloucestershire, it is likely that at some point in early February Eleanor made her way down to Dover to join him, and thereafter moved with him to Northbourne, Wingham, where the archbishops of Canterbury then had a palace, and Canterbury before returning to London.²⁵

Matrimonal plans were now in the air for the children. In particular, although she was only seven years old, Joan’s marriage was already the subject of international planning. In 1277, Rudolph of Hapsburg, the new King of the Romans, had sent envoys to negotiate for Joan’s hand at the behest of her great aunt, the dowager Queen of France, who had devised a rather complicated plan by which the marriage could be used to oust the ever-popular Charles of Anjou from his tenure of Provence. The plan was obviously fanciful, but the match with the Hapsburgs offered solid recommendations and the negotiations proceeded to some level of detail, with Edward stipulating for an allowance of 11,000 marks and the title of King of the Romans for young Hartmann if his father became Emperor. Indeed, plans were made for a wedding in 1279, including the issuance of a formal invitation, safe conduct and arrangements for accompanying guests. The Kent trip therefore also provided an opportunity to see off Stephen de Pencestre and his wife Margaret, who were to cross to France and bring back young Joan from her grandmother’s custody, so as to ensure she would be back in good time before the date of her projected marriage.²⁶

At the same time, the first steps were being taken for the marriage of the even younger Margaret – a commission from Duke John of Brabant arrived in January 1278 to negotiate her marriage with his son John, and by February emissaries were off to Compiègne to take the duke’s oath to observe the provisions of a deal already negotiated. In modern terms, the match with Brabant sounds like an odd choice. Brabant (which sprawls across parts of modern Belgium and the Netherlands) was not actually a state bordering on England or any of England’s Continental possessions. While it was not far from Ponthieu, it was not sufficiently close that there had been Ponthevin–Brabant marriages in the past. However, Brabant was a state which was seen as strategically key, with Louis IX’s brother Robert marrying into it and a marriage into Brabant even having been proposed for Edward in his youth. It was very much on the rise at the time, under the direction of the impressive and charismatic Duke John I (also known as ‘John the Victorious’). John descended on his mother’s side from the powerful dukes of Burgundy and was the new star of the tournament circuit and one of the most admired leaders in Europe. Brabant was also an emerging market for England’s key export – wool. More significantly, however, in 1274 Duke John’s sister Margaret had married Philip III of France.

Therefore, despite the fact that Duke John bid fair to set a bad example of marital fidelity to his son, a counterweight alliance with Brabant was imperative. That the alliance was with John’s second son and namesake rather than his first, Godfrey, is perhaps puzzling; however, it appears that Godfrey, who died young, was always considered unlikely to succeed to his father’s duchy. These marriage negotiations were plainly serious: details such as the subsidy to be paid by Edward and the dower allocation to be made for Margaret were all dealt with and Edward’s crack diplomatic team of John de Vescy, the Earl of Lincoln and Otho de Grandison were sent to take the Duke of Brabant’s oath on Margaret’s marriage contract.²⁷

In March 1278, the court was off again into the Cotswolds. A letter of Edward’s from Quenington/Down Ampney conveys a sense of a king in touch with affairs, but taking a step back for a short period. He writes to Burnell and Otho de Grandison, who had moved on to Paris to deal with Gascon affairs, expressing his approval of their actions, reminding them to get as many guarantees from the Gascons as possible and complaining that the Gascons are very unreliable, so everything needs to be put firmly in writing. He jokes that they should have the faith of Mary, mother of God, and not that of St Thomas, because he will back them in all their decisions. He also gives them a chatty general round-up: Llywelyn was behaving for once and Alexander of Scotland was coming to do homage at Michaelmas in London, and he hoped he would see them back in England by that time.²⁸

It was at about this time that Alfonso’s problems emerged again. At the Cortes in 1278, it was announced that Sancho would rule with his father. After the Cortes, Queen Violante, accompanied by her French daughter-in-law and the two de la Cerda boys, fled to the court of Violante’s brother, Pedro of Aragon, who instantly began to make political hay out of his neighbour’s dilemma. France, meanwhile, threatened war. As a result, there came an appeal from Alfonso to Edward for assistance, at the same time as a summons came from Philip III to aid him in his issue with Alfonso – a summons which he was perfectly entitled to make as Edward’s feudal lord for Gascony. To Alfonso, Edward pleaded his engagement in Wales as an excuse and encouraged Alfonso to come to terms with France. To Philip, Edward replied that he would serve if he must, though he did not want to, but would do all in his power to settle the quarrel. In the event, the French summons was not pressed; Alfonso seems to have made terms on the basis of supporting the de la Cerda claim – a decision which was to prove unfortunate for him in the next few years. It would appear, however, that Eleanor was doing her best to drum up support for the beleaguered Alfonso – Edward’s kind response to Alfonso reflects her influence. Further, Count Esquivat de Chabanais wrote to Edward, having heard that Eleanor held him in contempt for his failure to assist Alfonso the previous year in a crisis in Navarre, and begged Edward to excuse him to Eleanor. He evidently understood that Eleanor expected her friends to do what they could to assist Alfonso.²⁹

At Easter 1278, the court went on through Wiltshire into the heart of Eleanor’s Somerset property, with stays at her manors of Somerton and Queen Camel. The latter, just recently granted to Eleanor, was sited near the Cadbury fort that provided one of the speculated locations for Camelot, and was thus a particularly appropriate stop on the way to the next venue, Glastonbury, where one of the set pieces of the reign was staged – the reburial of the reputed remains of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.

This rather bizarre incident needs to be put in context. It was not a ‘discovery’ of the remains – that had occurred in 1191, a few years after Glastonbury had first been suggested as a location for the Arthurian Isle of Avalon, when the monks of Glastonbury Abbey were doing some forced renovations in the wake of a major fire. There is a real possibility that Henry II and Richard, who encouraged the ‘discovery’, were complicit in what seems likely to have been an opportunistic fraud by the monastery.

However, two forces made this a very worthwhile event for the Edwardian court. The first was that the lure of Arthur had by no means diminished in the years which had passed since the ‘discovery’. Both Edward in England and Eleanor in Castile (and doubtless all their friends) were brought up on tales of Arthur and his knights and enjoyed them wholeheartedly. Thus, even if they did take the tales with a pinch of salt, Edward himself had been enthusiastic enough to commission an Arthurian work, and Eleanor was to be the dedicatee (and probable commissioner of) the Arthurian romance Escanor.

The alleged graves would be bound to have a romantic significance for any keen reader of Arthurian tales. But the event was not simply a bit of romantic byplay – if it had been inspired by pure Arthurian enthusiasm it could have been done earlier in the reign, for example as part of the Somerset trip in 1276. This event had a far more serious point. Arthur had been claimed by the Welsh, and therefore it made sense that, while Edward was settling Welsh affairs, as he was doing for much of the year in 1278, and trying to establish himself as the authority figure for that land, he should put to bed the idea that Arthur was located somewhere in Wales, or that he was going to return to assist the Welsh, as Welsh tradition insisted. So as Morris points out, this trip was not at all akin to the trip made to Glastonbury by Henry III and the then twelve-year-old Eleanor of Provence, eager to see the grave of her hero. This was far more a gesture of ownership.

This aspect of the performance is reflected in the ceremonies which were carried out: the bodies of the alleged king and queen were disinterred before a large audience at twilight. The chronicler reports that ‘there in two caskets were found the bones of the said king of wondrous size, and those of Guinevere, of marvellous beauty’ (though quite how bones are of particular beauty he regrettably does not explain). The next morning, Edward wrapped Arthur’s bones in silk, and Eleanor performed the same office for those of Guinevere. The bones were then returned to the caskets, which were then sealed with a certificate of authenticity by Edward and Eleanor respectively and removed to the monastery’s treasury until such time as a fit resting place could be prepared for them. The skulls, however, were left outside. The latter detail is not just faintly sinister, it also provides another powerful indication that the point of this event was not a romantic one but had a political purpose – to establish and publicise the deceased status and English location of the great Welsh hero. Any passing Welshman was to be left in no doubt that Arthur and Guinevere were very definitely dead.

However, there were also other resonances which the royal pair may have been positioning themselves to exploit. As mentioned above, Arthurian mania was generally running high, and the next few years would see the commencement of the fashion for ‘Round Tables’, where knights effectively identified themselves with Arthurian knights of legend. In claiming and reburying Arthur and Guinevere, Edward and Eleanor positioned themselves to be perceived as the new Arthur and Guinevere; and indeed in the years which followed this characterisation was to be picked up by their entourage and by the chroniclers, with John of London asserting that Edward had exceeded Arthur as well as Alexander. If it is tempting to regard this as an overly cynical approach, it is worth reviewing the use which was to be made of Arthurian resonances in the second Welsh campaign and the interesting circumstances of the foundation of Caernarfon (both of which will be discussed in Chapter 14). It is also worth bearing in mind that Edward later went on to deploy the Arthur myth in his arguments over Scottish jurisdiction, and that of Joseph of Arimathea (also said to have been based at Glastonbury) in certain disputes with the Church.

Two questions necessarily present themselves: did Eleanor and Edward know that the remains were a fraud? And whose idea was the whole show? We can know the answer to neither question, but probabilities present themselves. For the former, despite the certification, there has to be a suspicion that Edward was sophisticated enough to be a little sceptical, and Eleanor, with her interest in history, may well have made the effort to uncover the truth. Indeed, one cannot help suspecting that if they thought the bodies were genuine they would not have desecrated them by removing the skulls for display. As to the latter question, different commentators incline in different directions. In fact, it seems likely to have been an idea which would appeal to both. Aside from some shared interest in Arthurian romance, Edward had seen his father pick a model for his kingship in the form of the Confessor and use publicity to promote it; Eleanor’s family had form for exploiting myths to enhance family prestige. However, Eleanor’s interest in Arthurian literature is more marked than that of Edward. What is more, there appear to have been other occasions – particularly later in Wales – where Eleanor’s literary inclinations were used as a springboard for occasions which, though enjoyable in themselves, also had a considerable political point. It therefore seems very plausible that the driving force behind this occasion was Eleanor.³⁰

Eleanor was never likely to miss a chance to visit her lands, so the period after this event was used for a whistle-stop tour which took in the northern Somerset properties and those in the New Forest before heading through Sussex and Chichester to the May/June parliament at Westminster. It was at this point that Joan of Acre rejoined her family, the elder portion of which was in residence at Westminster for the parliament, and the junior wing of which was then at the Tower. Thereafter in July there was time for a fairly decent stay at Windsor and a shorter one at Clarendon, before moving into the Marcher territories, presumably to review how the settlement was going, reaching Rhuddlan in September where, the results of the survey having been satisfactory, Llywelyn’s hostages were released. In reply, Llywelyn sent four hunting dogs to Edward and two greyhounds to Eleanor, showing that he had got to know them well enough to appreciate their interests. From Rhuddlan, the court made its way via Vale Royal and Eleanor’s dower property of Macclesfield to Worcester, where, in October 1278, the marriage of Llywelyn and Eleanor de Montfort finally took place, under Edward and Eleanor’s aegis. Thus Edward provided the wedding fee, and Eleanor gifted the bride with an elaborate kerchief. As soon as the wedding was over, it was time to return again to London for the autumn parliament, albeit with a short stay at Windsor to visit the younger children.

While this unwanted Welsh wedding proceeded smoothly, problems were emerging in Joan’s projected match. Rudolph, although crowned King of the Romans or King of Germany, was, like Richard of Cornwall before him, having difficulty in establishing his authority over the individual German territories. In such circumstances he could not afford to send his son, or the necessary accompanying guards, across to England for any period of time, and the match was put on hold. Young Berengaria, however, was not to reach even the precocious age at which a marriage could first be proposed for her: sometime in the period between June 1277, when a sum was paid to the woman who was her nurse, and the same date next year when the payment was to the woman who ‘had been’ her nurse, the youngest member of the family died, aged around eighteen months. She lies with her aunt Katherine and Edward and Eleanor’s other dead children in Westminster Abbey.³¹

At the same time, it was necessary to take steps with reference to the archbishopric of Canterbury, Robert Kilwardby having been promoted to Cardinal Bishop of Porto in mid-September. This provided Edward with a second opportunity to try to get the trusted Robert Burnell installed here, confident that Burnell was no Becket. On this occasion, Edward did not find his wishes impeded by the monks of Canterbury and he despatched a lawyer from Bologna to the papal court to try to get this consensus approved by the papacy. Also sent to assist in the good work was one John Pecham. A distinguished theologian who had taught at Oxford and disputed with Aquinas, he was formerly head of the Franciscans in England and thus would be deemed likely to find favour with the new Pope Nicholas III, whose father had been a close friend of St Francis.³²

After the parliament in the middle of November, it was necessary to visit Norwich for the dedication of the cathedral, which took place on 26 November. However, rather typically, the journey, taken over the period of Eleanor’s birthday, was made via Newmarket, which was situated right between Eleanor’s Cambridgeshire holdings of Soham and Dullingham. Interestingly, this journey commenced with a one-night stay at Waltham Abbey, where Eleanor was later to be commemorated. Norwich itself offered a good base for inspection of the Burgh–Scottow–Aylsham grouping of properties, which Eleanor had acquired just a few months earlier from John de Burgh and which were to be a major centre of her holdings. Indeed, the visit then progressed directly to Burgh and the court seems to have remained there for some time, with the party only returning to Cambridge in mid-December, before heading to Windsor for a family Christmas and New Year.

After a short stay in Westminster in January, the party proceeded to Woodstock, where the whole of February was spent awaiting Eleanor’s latest baby. An interesting sidelight on this journey is that on the way there one of Eleanor’s damsels exchanged promises of marriage with one of the king’s marshals, a vignette which emphasises the familial nature of the peripatetic court party. So too does it show the high moral tone which was generally expected – this incident resulted in an episcopal inquiry later in the year.³³

During this period, the news of the papal response to the request to install Robert Burnell in Canterbury was received – fairly unsurprisingly, Nicholas III was unwilling to accede to this plan. His solution, however, was both surprising and witty – he instead nominated John Pecham. Pecham’s relations with both king and queen were to be, to put it politely, rather mixed. On the one hand, his academic distinction appealed to Eleanor, for whom he wrote a theological work; and his loathing of Welsh law, which he considered profoundly immoral, was very pleasing to Edward. Further, there are certainly signs of fairly friendly exchanges between them; for example, Pecham’s 1283 letter berating Eleanor for her stance on usury is topped and tailed by kind words about a consolatory letter she had sent him, venison despatched to him and a pretty chapel he had just completed and which he was sure she would like.

However, as an archbishop who criticised usury and pluralism, both of which were intrinsic features of Eleanor’s business dealings, he will inevitably have roused her anger on numerous occasions. Still more so, one cannot help thinking, did his habit of sending her letters of reprimand; a number of such letters survive, and more may well have existed. Nor did Edward find Pecham’s first move on returning to England – ordering the display of Magna Carta in every church – much to his taste. For his part, Pecham was to find Eleanor’s close association with one of his bêtes noires, the distinguished Dominican theologian William of Hotham, a matter for disapproval. Still more did he consider undesirable her habit of judging for herself on theological issues such as usury.³⁴

The new baby, Mary, eventually arrived on 11 or 12 March 1279 and on this occasion Eleanor had to abandon the spring trip to Quenington, remaining at Woodstock with her household while the rest of the royal party moved into Gloucestershire, where the best part of the month was spent. But her lying-in was no peaceful event. Eleanor was busy acquiring new properties, in particular the wardship of some East Anglian lands proximate to her existing lands, and the inquiry into the marriage of her lady Amice de Weston was held in Eleanor’s chamber on 9 April. Such peace as there was was soon to be brought to an end, however. On 16 March, Eleanor’s mother, Jeanne of Dammartin, died. Eleanor was Countess of Ponthieu in her own right.

The news will probably have reached Eleanor and Edward at this point, or when they shortly afterwards reunited at or en route to Westminster. Jeanne had been in her fifty-ninth year and had made her will in 1276, so the news was probably no great shock; it was, however, of great significance for both, but particularly for Eleanor, who finally had a status in her own right. The importance of that status to her is evidenced by her later use of the Ponthevin arms, and Edward’s use of them in her commemorations. The news was probably not very heartbreaking – although Eleanor kept in touch with her mother, the contacts had not been close or frequent. In fact, the evidence suggests that of latter years they had consisted largely of requests for assistance, often financial, from Jeanne.³⁵

The position on succession to Jeanne’s lands of Ponthieu and Aumale echoed the issue which arose in Castile. In Ponthieu, part of Picardy, customary law was that in the absence of an adult heir in the direct line the eldest living heir would succeed – to the exclusion of grandchildren in the direct line. Thus, so far as Ponthieu was concerned, it descended to Eleanor, regardless of the existence of her brother Ferdinand’s children. In Aumale, which was in Normandy, customary law was different, requiring that the senior heir of the direct line must succeed regardless of age. It is perhaps not surprising, given Eleanor’s fondness for property acquisition, that she and Edward initially tried to muddy the waters on this point by claiming Aumale as if it were part of Ponthieu. But it may actually have been a tactical step to strengthen their bargaining position, given that Jeanne had provided in her will for her eldest grandson, Jean, to inherit all the lands Jeanne had granted his father, all the lands she had purchased in her lifetime and the reversion of the lands held by her second husband for his life. It was also asserted by Jean that she had left him the maximum part of the county which she was able to leave by will under the law of Picardy (a fifth). Certainly, Eleanor and Edward’s approach enabled the issue to be brought into the court of the French king, and the claim to the fifth share in the county was ultimately defeated.

However, the inheritance was, quite apart from the succession dispute, not an unmixed blessing. Ponthieu had been in debt ever since Marie de Dammartin’s submission 1225, which involved ceding part of her lands. This had not been helped by the Dammartin ladies’ tastes for expensive second husbands. Marie’s had run up debts which had resulted in the sale of more land and Jeanne’s, Jean de Nesle, had assisted her to run up considerable debts to tradesmen – over £700 to the merchants of Arras alone. To avoid these debts ending up before the French king, Edward and Eleanor had to agree to assume the widower’s share of them, as well as Jeanne’s. It appears that considerable work was needed to sort through and reconcile all the debts: in 1279 and 1280, Eleanor’s auditor, John de Lovetot, with John de Vescy and Otho de Grandison, put in considerable work on an audit of the county’s finances.³⁶

For the present, however, the news necessitated a trip to France; and fortunately one was already in the diary. Since late the previous year Robert Burnell and Otho de Grandison had been working on a treaty whereby the remaining issues from the 1259 Treaty of Paris could be resolved. This was scheduled for May. The royal couple crossed the Channel in early May, meeting up with Edward’s cousin Philip III and the returning John Pecham, en route from the papal curia, at Amiens. Also present, and completing the cousinly theme, was Charles of Salerno, who seems to have been a much more endearing character than his father, though plainly lacking his talents and force of character. It is notable that he even attracted positive reviews as a good and just man from an Aragonese chronicler, who was naturally disposed against the Angevin family. The fondness which Edward had for him was very clearly demonstrated by the fact that Charles continued to intercede with Edward on behalf of Guy de Montfort, the principal in Henry of Almain’s murder, even seeking the return of the Leicester lands to Guy, without receiving a rude or even a plain rebuff. Edward stonewalled with the utmost courtesy and even suggested that Guy’s representatives propose a deal to Otho de Grandison for consideration – and sent the various horses and dogs which Charles also requested. Given that Edward was continuing to hold Amaury de Montfort in captivity on the grounds of his alleged complicity, when it was plain that he had been a student in Padua at the time of the murder, this surely evidences affection between the two.³⁷

So at Amiens, on 23 May, the Treaty of Paris of 1259 was ratified and the key territory of the Agenais made over to Edward as provided for in that treaty, twenty years before. Eleanor’s claim to Ponthieu was recognised by Philip, and Eleanor did homage to Philip as the new countess. The diplomatic accord was celebrated with the usual feasts and jousts, though Edward and Eleanor did not go on to the truly magnificent tournaments held in Charles of Salerno’s honour by the French king at Senlis and Compiègne, during the course of which the king’s brother Robert suffered life-changing head injuries.

Thereafter, Edward and Eleanor made a short tour of Ponthieu, staying in Abbeville and Crécy, before returning via Montreuil. Arrangements were made for the administration of the new territory thus joined to the English Crown, with Edward and Eleanor jointly appointing one Pierre Aucoste as their receiver, Sir Thomas de Sandwich as seneschal and her cousin William de Fiennes, who held most of his lands in the county, as custodian of the county. Administratively, the transition to the new rulership seems to have been relatively unproblematic, at least as regards the nobility, a fact which can probably be substantially put down to Eleanor’s extensive familial connections to the most important families of the region; she could claim kinship to the counts of Eu and Dreux, the lords of Pécquigny and Roncherolles, as well as the Fiennes.³⁸

During this period, there is evidence that Eleanor, never one to miss a financial trick, continued her property acquisitions, this time in Ponthieu itself, where many of the noble class were financially straitened and welcomed the chance to dispose advantageously of some land. Such acquisitions continued for some period; in May 1281 the king and queen sent £1,000 from England to help pay for the purchase of new land there. Over the period from her accession to her death, Eleanor acquired no fewer than twenty-four properties in Ponthieu. Smaller purchases were also made while the royals were in Ponthieu – Blandurel apple trees (this apple still being much esteemed for the making of apple tarts), pet birds, silver ornaments for the queen’s books, and most notably the commissioning of the quasi-dynastic romance referred to as ‘un romanz de Isembart’. Probably, too, it was at this point that Eleanor made contact with Girard d’Amiens, who was to produce Escanor for her. At the same time, she did not neglect her English properties: one of the surviving letters from her concerns the church at Fordingbridge on the edge of her New Forest property and is dated from Le Gard in France.³⁹

The return brought the party via Dover and Canterbury to Leeds Castle, acquired the previous summer. Rather typically it would appear that the royal party was actually on the road between Montreuil and Dover on Edward’s fortieth birthday on 17/18 June 1279; the 17th and 18th are blank days in the itinerary sandwiched between these destinations. Although Morris suggests there may have been celebrations at Dover Castle, there seems little sign of this – the stay there was only one night and the memorandum of the king’s arrival is dated 19 June. However, there seems little sign of the court paying much mind to birthdays at any point.⁴⁰

If there were celebrations, they will have been at Leeds, to which the royal family was paying its first visit. After its acquisition in 1278, given that it had been passed from one debtor to the other, it obviously needed plenty of work doing to it to make it a suitable venue for the court. In all likelihood, it was still very substantially a building site in 1279 when the visit was made. After the break at Leeds, there was a stay in London for the summer parliament and then a lengthy stop at Windsor Castle, presumably with the children, for the rest of July.

It was apparently either in July or at Michaelmas that the first famous Round Table, that of Kenilworth, was held. Although it is often reported that Edward was present at this event, which was organised by his brother and sister-in-law and was designed to honour Roger Mortimer, who was retiring from tourneying, his presence and that of Eleanor seems unlikely. In July, the itinerary shows a succession of orders of business conducted at Windsor throughout late July and a progress thereafter through Buckinghamshire. At Michaelmas, the royal party are vouched for in Essex. No stop at or near Kenilworth appears. Moreover, the contemporaneous chronicler mentions the presence of innumerable knights at this ‘famosissimus’ tournament staged at the most profuse expense, but fails to mention any appearance by king or queen. One may doubt whether, after the carefully staged reburial of Arthur the previous year, either approved an event which was predicated on the supposed Welsh descent of Mortimer from Arthur.⁴¹

In August, Eleanor was back at work on her Buckinghamshire properties, using as a base the Confessor’s palace of Brill. This lay at the heart of the royal hunting forest of Bernwood, which extended almost to Oxford, and therefore would provide good hunting for those with leisure. The manor and forest were part of Eleanor’s dower assignment. Little is now known of this palace, but from the fact that Henry III, on his visit, brought at least thirteen carts and over forty packhorses, it was plainly a sizeable palace; and a few records remain which indicate that he modernised it considerably. Brill was also almost exactly equidistant between Eleanor’s two very recent acquisitions in Oxfordshire: Thrupp, where Eleanor had acquired a share of a wardship, and Godington, where she had acquired a manor.

The party then moved on via Buckingham to territory familiar from the 1274 trip: from Silverstone and Overstone to Geddington and Eleanor’s dower property of Rockingham, near the Leicestershire and Market Harborough properties. Then to Liddington and Oakham, near the Apethorpe dower properties, and Buckden, near her Brampton and St Ives properties in Huntingdonshire. While in the area, she was able to deal with a troublesome tenant at Gartree near Market Harborough: having failed to pay his dues to Eleanor, the property was repossessed at this time. Again, direct correspondence with Eleanor shows that she was personally concerned in the business.⁴²

The autumn was again spent largely at Westminster, where Parliament was sitting until November. However, in September, Eleanor managed to seize a few days to visit her dower properties in Essex and inspect new acquisitions made that year nearby at Barstable, Fobbing and Shenfield. The former was an acquisition made from the Giffard family. The latter was part of the lands of the Camville family and was one of Eleanor’s last dealings in Jewish debt.

Meanwhile, as Eleanor’s position went from strength to strength, Alfonso’s position in Spain kept getting worse. Sancho obtained his mother’s defection from the de la Cerda cause by offering to pay her enormous debts. Since he did not have the money himself, he procured one of Alfonso’s tax gatherers to divert to him money intended for a siege at Algeciras. Queen Violante returned to Castile; but the diversion of the funds led to the failure of the siege. Enraged, Alfonso committed another public relations disaster by having the tax collector dragged to his death, with Sancho as witness to the execution. Despite this, he still continued to support Sancho as heir; consequently, war with France was hovering. In June 1279 he had sought reassurances of support from Edward, which were sent, along with some grey gerfalcons. More helpfully, Edward despatched William de Valence and Jean de Grailly to negotiate with France, getting Alfonso a year’s truce.⁴³

The decision to spend Christmas 1279 at Winchester probably reflects the imminent demise of its bishop and the royal desire to procure the support of the monks for Robert Burnell as his successor. On the death of the bishop in early February, the nomination of Burnell was speedily made, duly approved by the diocese and referred to the Pope with strong support from Edward and Eleanor. However, the Pope was again unwilling to see Burnell advanced further and the nomination was quashed. The question of a replacement then hung fire for some years, with John of Pontoise finally being enthroned late in 1282.

This episcopal mess might not seem to have much relevance to Eleanor, but again it provides an interesting glimpse of her hard at work. Within three days of the death of the bishop, she had had a manor at Ringwood (neighbouring her holdings there) granted to her by Edward at pleasure ‘during the voidance of the see of Winchester’. It was still in her hands at her death. This single transaction offers a characteristic picture of not a moment being wasted to identify and acquire a suitable property, and a reluctance to part with that property, regardless of the terms of the grant.⁴⁴

The remainder of 1280 was, in English domestic terms, a quiet year, but financial questions continued to hover. It would seem that most of the proceeds of the 1275 vote of funds had been spent by now – doubtless assisted by the cost of the Welsh war. A substantial payment on account of the crusading debt to the French Crown had been made in 1279, and was due to be completed by 1281. There seemed little prospect of this, unless the crusading tenth ordered in 1274 could somehow be tapped. Edward was obviously not in a position to go himself for some time to come, and in 1276 he had written to Pope John XXI promising that if he could not go, he would send his brother in his place. With the matter becoming urgent, in July 1280 Otho de Grandison was despatched to the papal curia to try to get agreement to this arrangement – only to find himself awaiting a new papal election, as Nicholas III died before he arrived.⁴⁵

Meanwhile, the problems of Alfonso were never far from the agenda of Edward and Eleanor. It was agreed that Alfonso and Philip should meet, under Edward’s aegis, if not in his presence, in Gascony in 1280. Instead, in July 1280, Alfonso authorised Charles of Salerno, with his closer French connections, to act for him. By the end of the year, he had come up with a proposal which was to cause him trouble on both sides: the ceding of the territory of Jaén to Alfonso de la Cerda. This was not considered sufficient by Philip, while Sancho opposed any partition of Castile. With Alfonso in a worse mess than ever, Edward agreed to meet him on the Gascon–Castilian border at around Easter 1281.

For some reason, this plan never got off the ground. Certainly Edward was not in Gascony – much of the early part of 1281 before the May parliament was spent in Gloucestershire and Wiltshire. Another odd point is that in this period the court, quite atypically, never moved any very great distance for over three months. This therefore is a very likely date for the delivery of the stillborn son which Parsons hypothesises for some time in the 1280–81 period. It is therefore quite probable that Edward was kept from his plan to help Alfonso by a traumatic stillbirth or a late miscarriage which left Eleanor below par for a considerable period.⁴⁶

However, Eleanor was certainly sufficiently recovered to make a very interesting appearance in partnership with Robert Burnell in early June 1281. The Close Rolls reveal that she acted with Burnell as an arbitrator appointed to decide disputes between Edward’s cousin Edmund, Earl of Cornwall, and Walter Brunscombe, the Bishop of Exeter. The disputes seem to have been part of a complicated and long-standing feud, with writs flying in each direction and a dash of cattle rustling. The importance of the event, however, is that it demonstrates Eleanor being looked to by two of the most powerful men in England as a figure of authority and a person capable of mastering the intricacies of a difficult dispute. It also demonstrates her taking on a role in active justice making, which was highly unusual for a queen consort. Her abilities and her stature among England’s executive powers are both implicitly recognised by this event.⁴⁷

The main feature of the year in terms of touring was the most extensive Northern tour yet, which took place from July to October. This took the court via the usual route through Eleanor’s holdings in Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire, Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire to York, where there was a stay sufficient to enable Eleanor to inspect some recent acquisitions which she had made in 1279 in that town. Thereafter the court performed a loop, proceeding via the Bowes Moor Road to Carlisle before coming back across to Newcastle and Durham, before returning south to Westminster for the October parliament.

This northernmost loop will have had two justifications. The first is that Edward will have wanted to inspect the state of affairs in the far North in company with John de Vescy, who had joined a Scots expedition to put down an uprising on the Isle of Man in 1275. The second is that the wedding of John de Vescy to Eleanor’s cousin Isabella de Beaumont took place at this time, and as part of the arrangements for that wedding Edward granted John lands in Northumberland, to add to his existing patrimony. This journey will also, however, have afforded Eleanor the opportunity to inspect her northernmost dower property – Corbridge in Northumberland. After the November parliament, the end of the year was spent predominantly in Norfolk, particularly near Eleanor’s new acquisitions around Burgh, to which she actually added further during the stay, acquiring on 5 January 1281 a package of lands in and around Scottow. Another trip to Walsingham was also fitted in, before the court moved off into Suffolk and thence into Gloucester to enjoy the Cotswold spring and hunting.⁴⁸

In this period the children’s marriages were also under consideration. First was young Alphonso, betrothed in July 1281. The bride selected for him was Margaret of Holland, daughter of Floris, Count of Holland, and Beatrix of Flanders. But the question of young Eleanora’s marriage also moved to the fore. She, of course, had been engaged to the son of Pedro of Aragon in 1273, but in early 1281 she was now approaching twelve, the age when both her mother and grandmother had been married. An alliance with Aragon was now, of course, a somewhat vexed question, given Aragon’s intervention in the Castilian succession issue. It may even be this political dimension, as much as concern over Eleanora’s youth, which led to Eleanor and her mother-in-law staging the famous intercession with Edward, asking that Eleanora’s marriage be delayed on account of her youth: ‘The queen her mother and our dearest mother are unwilling to grant that she may pass over earlier on account of her tender age.’ John de Vescy and Anthony Bek were charged with the difficult job of keeping the marriage on the cards, while procuring a delay of at least a year and a half, and preferably two and a half years, before the marriage took place.⁴⁹

Nor should it be supposed that Eleanor’s property empire slept in this notionally quiet time: during 1280 and 1281 Eleanor acquired properties in twelve different counties, including additions to her core property areas in Northampton, Gloucestershire, Southampton and Norfolk, but also including a new outpost in Kent, a farm at Westcliffe which was presumably convenient as a victualling point for trips to Ponthieu or Gascony, being only a couple of miles from Dover Castle. Other acquisitions included Headington, on the edge of Oxford, and Weymouth, Lyme Regis and the Cobb.

The process of these acquisitions and the activity which surrounded them again bears eloquent testimony to the professionalism of the outfit which Eleanor was heading up. In the first place, a number of these transactions take place on the same days in November 1280 or July 1281. This indicates a portfolio being presented for completion at one time. Secondly, the movements of the court can often be seen to reflect these acquisitions. The coincidence of timing of the Norfolk stay with Norfolk acquisitions has already been remarked. But the long Gloucestershire stay in early to mid-1280, too, was followed by the addition of three new Gloucestershire properties (including the Burdon lands) and two in the nearby Wiltshire grouping. The slightly earlier Bristol stay, near the northern Somerset group, is followed by an acquisition at nearby Uphill. The later Hampshire stay offered an opportunity to inspect the dower property of Odiham and acquisitions in Hampshire in early 1280. In 1281, recent acquisitions at Fobbing and Shenfield could be viewed from Havering-atte-Bower in July.⁵⁰

Further, Ponthieu required attention, and its affairs were not left entirely to Edward. Throughout the rest of her life, Eleanor sent a succession of letters of credit to Ponthieu to finance further purchases and make good the shortfalls in the revenue from the county.

In general, though, all seemed to be progressing well. There was time for a further visit to monitor progress at Leeds, and also one to Langley, which Eleanor had acquired in 1275 and was likewise transforming, though on a less extravagant scale. There was time for a lengthy autumn stay in the New Forest, and after Parliament concluded in November, the royal party spent the late part of 1281 and the early part of 1282 in the slightly unusual surroundings of Pershore and Worcester, before proceeding for the usual Quenington spring break.⁵¹

This period therefore reverts to the image of the royal family with which the chapter commenced – peaceful, prosperous and enjoying their business. But by this stage storm clouds were in view on the horizon. Both sides of the family were providing cause for concern. Alfonso’s position continued to deteriorate, putting Edward under unwelcome pressure to support him. While Aragon and Castile had signed a treaty of friendship in March 1281, it had not brought an end to Alfonso’s problems. He remained under pressure from Philip of France and a rift was opening up between him and Sancho as to the best way to manage the de la Cerdas. By November, Sancho was starting to drum up support within Castile, which by spring 1282 resulted in his calling an assembly at Valladolid – with a full cast of the disaffected, including Alfonso’s estranged Queen Violante, Alfonso’s brother Manuel (up to this time one of the king’s most trusted advisers) and discontented nobles. The stage was set for civil war.⁵²

Meanwhile, dowager Queen Marguerite of France, ably supported by her sister Eleanor of Provence was stirring up trouble with the family of Charles of Anjou in relation to her claims to Provence. The presence of Edmund of Cornwall and Edward’s Gascon seneschal at a meeting concerning this issue led to a formal complaint from Charles of Salerno to Edward. Edward was forced to issue a letter, effectively outing his mother’s involvement and explaining the difficulty of his position given his own closeness to his mother. Further tension was probably felt in the relationship owing to Eleanora’s engagement to the heir of Aragon; her betrothed’s father, Pedro, married to the most immediate heir to the Sicilian throne and himself a claimant through an older line of succession, was stirring up trouble for the Angevins in their other territory, the Kingdom of Sicily.

Then, right at the end of 1281, there came the tragic news, via Otho de Grandison’s brother, the Bishop of Verdun, that Joan’s fiancé had been killed in a boating accident on 21 December. Setting off to visit his father in a thick fog, Hartmann’s boat struck a rock midstream and he and most of his companions were drowned.⁵³

Finally, perhaps unnoticed by the royal party amid the whirl of foreign diplomatic letters and pleas of assistance from both sides of the family, was perhaps the real reason behind the period spent in Worcester: a cloud was gathering above Wales.