4

The Marriage

The origins of Eleanor and Edward’s famously harmonious marriage lie, ironically enough, in deep disharmony. This is because the first seeds of the idea of the marriage can probably be found in the miserable time experienced by both Gascony and its seneschal or governor, Simon de Montfort, in the years 1248 to 1252. A soldier of huge talent, he was certainly at this stage in his career more reminiscent of his intransigent father than the hero of representative politics often portrayed in modern accounts. His approach to the task in hand in Gascony was therefore of the iron-fist-in-iron-glove type, with little sensitivity to local customs and politics. These tactics had not at all suited the Gascons, who had never fully reconciled themselves to being part of the Angevin Empire rather thanpares in a primus inter pares arrangement with the dukes of Aquitaine. His period of rule culminated in the trial, referred to earlier, of charges brought against him by numerous disaffected Gascon nobles. Although a short-term truce was patched up following the failure of that trial, it was obviously apparent that the situation in Gascony was very much open to opportunist meddlings by those averse to the Angevin rule – including Castile.¹

The timing of this unrest was very unfortunate for Henry. Ferdinand III had died in May 1252 and Alfonso X, new to the throne and with his father’s dying challenge ringing in his ears, was not slow to pick up the baton in this regard, very possibly encouraged by Gaston de Béarn, who will have been well placed to tell tales of Henry’s weakness. Straight after de Montfort’s trial, Alfonso accepted the homage of Gascon families alienated by de Montfort’s harsh policies – including the influential Gaston, who, although cousin to Eleanor of Provence, was never averse to mischief making for the Crown. Soon word began to filter through that Gascon wine merchants were seeking out new markets in Castile – doubtless also with the encouragement of Alfonso and Gaston.²

In this context, Henry felt that it was necessary to promise a visit to Gascony by himself and Edward, now titular duke. However, the timeline shows that, in parallel, he began to investigate the possibility of a marriage between Eleanor and Edward, as a deal which would keep Castile out of Gascony. He was reporting his intentions to go to Gascony in April, and by 15 May 1253 he had accredited William of Bitton, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, and former chancellor John Maunsell to seek the marriage. This step was reported by the chroniclers with some confusion as to the identity of the lucky princess; some suggested that it was the daughter of Alfonso who was to be the bride, but Alfonso as yet had no daughter. However, the uncertainty over the bride’s identity illustrates how low was Eleanor’s profile.³

A number of commentators dating as far back as Matthew Paris have speculated that the claim to Gascony by Alfonso was merely a tactic designed to entice Henry into the marriage. However, modern scholarship has rejected this analysis. Alfonso may not have had a strong belief in the claim, but some sort of claim was there.⁴

The fact that the English marriage was not Alfonso’s goal in meddling in Gascony is also borne out by the delays which he imposed upon the negotiations. Two particular sticking points appear in the records. The first was the demand that Alfonso knight Edward, an important point of honour, particularly in the militaristic ethos of Castile. This would be a difficult issue in terms of pride; Henry would normally have expected – and did expect, despite his own lack of military prowess – to knight his son himself, as he had knighted the King of Scotland. It was also an issue in terms of security, since Edward would make the perfect hostage. The second issue was dower and dowry. Alfonso offered nothing by way of dowry but instead expected Henry to provide generous dower for Eleanor, rejecting Henry’s first offer of 1,000 marks per annum.⁵

In fact it appears that, initially at least, Alfonso was using the English marriage negotiations as a stalking horse to bring another bridegroom to the table. So while early progress was made, with a draft treaty being in the hands of John Maunsell by summer and one of Eleanor’s cousins, William de Fiennes, being added to Edward’s household on 5 July 1253, Alfonso then appears to have deliberately stalled negotiations. Meanwhile, he entered into negotiations with Navarre for the marriage of the new King Thibault, aged fourteen, to Eleanor.⁶

In many ways the Navarrese marriage was of more utility to Alfonso. There was a disputed claim to feudal supremacy over Navarre which dated back to 1134, when Garcia VI of Navarre had sworn homage to Alfonso VII of Castile. Navarre also had designs on Gascony and offered access for Castile to Gascony via the Pyrenean passes, which would be of great use if Alfonso intended to act on his claims. A Navarrese marriage was not out of question in status terms; one had been considered for Alfonso himself at an earlier stage. Further, there was a suitable dynastic connection on two sides, first through Blanche of Navarre, who had married into the Castilian royal family in the previous century, and secondly via Eleanor of Aquitaine’s daughter Marie, who had married Thibault of Champagne, great-grandfather of the present king. Moreover, the Navarrese marriage was a particularly ripe plum at the time, since Thibault was not yet of age, and there was therefore a decent prospect of Castile effectively annexing the kingdom.⁷

However, scenting danger – and probably rightly so – Queen Marguerite of Navarre instead submitted herself to the protection of the less acquisitive Aragon, who, as junior partner to Castile in the Iberian peninsula, was also keen to rein in Alfonso. Thus, she undertook in August 1253 that Thibault would ‘never at any time in his life, marry the sister of the Lord Alfonso, king of Castile, daughter of the Lord King Ferdinand and the Lady Queen Jeanne’.⁸

So by late August 1253 Alfonso was back facing the English marriage, with Henry, who had left England in late July, on his way to back up diplomacy with force. Negotiations are likely to have awaited the event somewhat, since Henry’s military history might well lead Alfonso to believe that his hand would strengthen as Henry floundered. As it was, however, Henry did surprisingly well, combining the diplomacy which de Montfort had scorned to employ with military action where necessary. The success of this latter aspect can probably be traced to the assistance of de Montfort, who came to Henry’s aid – but only after both payment by Henry and intervention from Robert Grosseteste.⁹

Obviously forming the view that his hand was unlikely to improve in the near future, Alfonso came back to the table at about the end of 1253. Thus by 8 February 1254 John Maunsell went back to Castile, this time accompanied by Eleanor of Provence’s close associate Peter d’Aigueblanche, the Bishop of Hereford.¹⁰

It appears by this time that Henry was absolutely determined on the marriage, since the envoys were empowered to offer generous terms including a provision that Edward would have lands worth £10,000 (15,000 marks) yearly and Eleanor would be dowered ‘as fully as any queen of England had ever been’. Given that the envoys cannot have set off until after 14 February, matters must then have proceeded apace, for by 31 March the Castilian envoys announced that peace was made and that Alfonso would abandon his claims to rule in Gascony; a treaty of alliance was promulgated the next day in Toledo. On dower, Alfonso had sensibly insisted on a rather more specific promise than Henry’s vague platitudes. Henry’s initial offer of 1,000 marks was raised to £1,000, to be increased by 500 marks at Edward’s accession. Henry’s concession on this front may well reflect the fact that he was already aware, from his own wife’s financial difficulties, that £1,000 was miserably inadequate to a modern queen’s needs.

The terms of the treaty bear some examination. The financial promises referred to above were considered by many in England to be so extensive as to denigrate Henry’s own status – Matthew Paris said they made Henry a ‘mutilated kinglet’. Plainly they were also considered significant by Alfonso, who in summer 1254 insisted upon a little due diligence, inspecting original grants of land to Edward and requiring that they be reissued with Henry’s Great Seal. However, in reality the grants were not absolute, leaving Henry able to interfere substantially in the territories ceded to Edward, and the fact of the grants was even of positive benefit to Henry in some areas, shoring up dubious claims to overlordship.

Henry did concede the knighting issue – Edward was to be knighted by Alfonso on or before the next Feast of the Assumption – and he also agreed to seek commutation of his earlier vow to go on Crusade in order to assist Alfonso with an invasion of North Africa. However, neither of these concessions were of much substance. Henry also agreed to help impose Castilian supremacy over Navarre, but this agreement would only ‘bite’ if Alfonso ever got anywhere close to supremacy. Otherwise, as part of the unpicking of the Gascon troubles, Henry agreed to restore losses suffered by Gascons who supported Alfonso. The marriage of Edward and Eleanor was also to be backed up by a reciprocal marriage of Henry’s daughter Beatrice and one of Alfonso’s brothers.¹²

On the other side of the fence, Alfonso renounced all claims to Gascony and promised to return all lands seized from Henry in the Gascon troubles. He also promised that, once he made peace with Navarre, any Gascon lands seized by the kings of Navarre would be returned, and that Henry should have a half share in the lands conquered in any African expedition. It should be noted here that suggestions that Alfonso did give some dowry, or that Eleanor had dowry in the form of being heiress to Ponthieu, are inaccurate – there is no record of her bringing any dowry and she only became heiress to Ponthieu on the death of her older brother Ferdinand, more than a decade later.

There were therefore a number of ‘pie in the sky’ elements of this treaty – the North African expedition never happened, Henry was never absolved from his crusading vow and Navarre never did come under Castilian rule, maintaining its somewhat marginal existence until the sixteenth century. Putting these to one side, it is at first tempting to say that Alfonso did very well out of this treaty, in that he got a royal marriage for his sister at no cost to himself. But to regard this absence of dowry payment by Alfonso as a win for Castile is a mistaken approach.

Eleanor, even with no dowry, was no bad deal for Henry and England. To get a princess at all was a point of considerable value. But Eleanor represented rather more than a ‘mere princess’. She was the daughter of a great crusading king and the sister of a king who, at this stage in his career, promised to be a leading light in international terms, both through the affluence brought about by Ferdinand’s conquests and by reason of his own scholarship and Imperial connections. A Castilian connection was therefore very valuable. What is more, Eleanor was the only daughter of Ferdinand to come on the market; the only other daughter to live to adulthood became a nun. Further still, although Eleanor was not actually heiress to Ponthieu, she would have influence over her mother, who was now the regnant countess on Henry’s doorstep.¹³

Nor was this Henry’s only gain from the deal. On top of Eleanor’s personal claims, Henry got back lands which he had lost in Gascony; and most of all he got as near a guarantee of peace in Gascony as he could expect, given the nature of the Gascon nobles, especially Gaston de Béarn. He was certainly now safe from Castile, and also from Navarre, which would inevitably go down to the combined might of Castile and England, if it got out of line. The value of this guarantee was of almost inestimable value to him. Nor was he the only one to appreciate its value; the peace which the marriage brought bore fruit in the crucial relationship with France. Once the marriage was agreed, Louis IX realised he would be unable to foment useful discord in Gascony, and ultimately acknowledged Henry’s claims in Gascony by the Treaty of Paris in 1259.

In fact, a better question is, what did Alfonso get out of the deal? It must be recalled that he would see none of the money for which he had fought so hard. All he definitely got, in exchange for a dubious but valuable claim to Gascony, was the honour of knighting Edward and the further honour of a royal marriage into the English royal house – not the prize it might have seemed in Henry II’s time. Otherwise, his gains were speculative. Certainly Spanish historians have reproached Alfonso soundly for his stupidity in abandoning the claim for so little return. All in all, Alfonso appears to have obeyed the letter and the spirit of his father’s injunction as regards Eleanor and done his very best to ensure that she was well provided for.

From the beginning of April, implementation of the deal began: a safe conduct was issued for Edward at once, and on 22 April Alfonso ordered the Gascons to return to their allegiance to Henry. By 18 July, the final details were falling into place: the date was set for some time within five weeks of Michaelmas; Henry typically hoped for the Feast of St Edward the Confessor on 13 October. Two days later, Edward assigned dower lands to Eleanor: the towns of Stamford and Grantham, the castle and town of the Peak and the manor of Tickhill. On 23 July, John Maunsell was ordered by Edward to conclude the marriage by proxy; the letter refers to Eleanor’s ‘beauty and prudence’, of which Edward has heard by general report. Interestingly, this letter seems to be the only extant reference to Eleanor’s beauty, and its combination with ‘prudence’, as opposed to ‘charm’, ‘debonairité’ or ‘sweetness’, is an unusual one, suggesting that her serious nature had been mentioned to Edward by the envoys who had met her. In August, a Castilian embassy headed by Garcia Martinez, a diplomat who appears to have been appointed Eleanor’s ayo (tutor or governor) for the purposes of finalising the negotiations on her behalf, arrived in Gascony to accept the dower assignment.¹⁴

In all of this business, it will perhaps have been noted that Eleanor’s mother, Dowager Queen Jeanne, seems to have played no part. This apparently reflects the actualité, and the reasons for this shed light on Eleanor’s relations at this time with her immediate family. The truth was that by 1254, Eleanor’s mother and her eldest brother were embroiled in a very serious row – and her mother was also playing a starring role in a scandal of no mean proportions. The combination of the two was to place Jeanne firmly outside the circle involved in arranging the match and even to make her continued residence in Castile impossible.

Alfonso’s relationship with Jeanne seems to have been stormy for some time, as Ferdinand’s injunction to Alfonso on his deathbed hints. The reasons behind this are interesting. In the first place, although the relationship between a stepmother and stepson of approximately equal age was never likely to be very easy, Jeanne had apparently had cause to resent Alfonso from even before her marriage. The original plan of Blanche of Castile had seen Jeanne marrying Ferdinand and her younger sister Philippa marrying Alfonso; papal dispensations for both marriages had been obtained. However, Alfonso had very strong views indeed about the nobility of his descent, which can be seen in the Cantigas, where he trumpets his noble descent by reference to his mother and states that his first great advantage was that Ferdinand III had given him life ‘through a woman of great lineage’. Alfonso therefore flatly refused the marriage, and made much of the noble descent of the wife he eventually took – Violante of Aragon.¹⁴

The slight and the huge loss which the marriage represented to the position of her family was not likely to be lost on Jeanne. A second royal marriage would have improved her family’s political importance immensely. As it was, Philippa did not marry until comparatively late and then married (as his third wife) the Count of Eu, a lesser member of the prolific de Lusignan family, and, after his death, a scion of the House of Coucy; both respectable but by no means brilliant marriages.

To add to this original point of friction there was a considerable dispute about property, in particular the dower which Jeanne held as queen. As noted in Chapter 1, the Castilian concept of dower involved the wife entering into ownership of the property at once, and not merely on the death of her spouse. While the approach whereby dowry, the gift from the wife’s family, outweighed or replaced dower was prevalent elsewhere in Europe and was gaining ground in parts of Iberia (including in Alfonso’s own plans), it had not yet established itself in Castile. Queens in Castile therefore held and ruled substantial portions of the royal demesne as their own, as, for example, Berengaria had done with the disputed border forts. This gave them greater personal wealth and opportunities for patronage than was common elsewhere.¹⁶

It was common practice for queens to swear fidelity to the king and to his heir in respect of such property. Jeanne, however, refused to submit her properties to Alfonso’s authority. Alfonso then took a hard line about whether certain other properties gifted by Ferdinand to Jeanne were properly alienable from the Crown, and he refused to acknowledge her rights to them. Attempts were made to resolve the resulting disputes, but by 1252 there are records of litigation between Jeanne and Alfonso. This ongoing dispute explains Ferdinand’s charge to Alfonso on his deathbed to treat Jeanne with the same affection and deference as if she had been his mother and give her all the honours which were her due. There is doubt whether Alfonso respected his father’s wishes in this regard. Ferdinand’s will left certain lands to Jeanne, including some at Cordoba and Jaén, but Alfonso denied her seigniorial rights over them and may also have actually withheld their benefits from her as well.¹⁷

At odds with Alfonso, Jeanne found a sympathetic ear close to home. There was no firm principle of primogeniture established in Spain, and it was therefore possible for younger sons to have hopes of the throne. Doubtless with this in mind, the colourful Enrique – reputedly the best soldier and diplomat of all the sons – had refused to recognise Alfonso as Ferdinand’s heir in 1246. Once installed as king after Ferdinand’s death, Alfonso in turn refused to recognise the grant of certain lands to Enrique under his father’s will, a move which pushed him into rebellion.

Jeanne and Enrique sympathised with each other over their problems with the intractable Alfonso and Jeanne even attended a meeting which Enrique held with his allies at Burgos. This closeness led to rumours that the two were lovers. The commentators suggest that this is unlikely to have been true – Jeanne, although only thirty-two at Ferdinand’s death, was still a good ten years older than Enrique. However, it is obviously possible, and two factors suggest that it may indeed have been the case. The first is Jeanne’s later choice of a second husband of limited means, which suggests that she had a taste for handsome or charming men. The second is the storyline of Enrique’s later work Amadis de Gaula: its theme is a forbidden love between a penniless prince and a queen. Certainly there was very considerable gossip about them at the time, as traces of it still survive in the fragmentary records.¹⁸

Ultimately, Jeanne’s relationship with Alfonso seems to have reached a point where her position was totally untenable. She was apparently not consulted by him over Eleanor’s marriage and she did not even attend the wedding, choosing to leave Castile in the summer before the wedding, even though by this stage all the arrangements were in place. The ostensible reason for her departure was that she was to assume her position as Countess of Ponthieu after her mother’s death. However, since her mother had died in 1250 this was a very threadbare excuse indeed, and the probability is that her disappearance at this stage was intended to embarrass Alfonso.

Two interesting points regarding Eleanor emerge from this little byplay. The first is that Eleanor cannot have escaped being aware of the difficult relations between her mother and Alfonso throughout her childhood and yet she apparently managed herself to maintain good relations with him. He certainly went to considerable efforts to ensure that she was well provided for, though this could not benefit him, and possibly the less that was asked on Eleanor’s behalf, the more he could himself have gained. And certainly she felt more than simply dutiful to him: her correspondence with and support for him in later years might just be put down to familial imperatives, but the christening of one of her sons as Alphonso (an outlandish name to the English ear) vouches for a very real affection.¹⁹

Part of this may be linked to the second point emerging from this story: this period will have provided Eleanor with an object lesson in the importance of the rules which she had been taught on the maintenance of good habits, of quiet deportment and, of course, of suppressing her temper; and the difficulties a queen who abandoned these principles might attract. It is a lesson which she appears to have learnt to admiration. In later years, although associating very closely with many of her husband’s unmarried friends, not a whisper ever appears about her. It appears that, on this point at least, she saw her mother’s approach as the worse course and preferred the teaching of Alfonso. Indeed, given this obvious closeness of view and affection between Alfonso and Eleanor, and Jeanne’s decision to leave Castile and not to support her young daughter through her marriage, one may well infer that the bond between Eleanor and her mother was not particularly close.

It is worth noting at this stage, as it was a precursor to later problems in which Eleanor tried to assist Alfonso, that Alfonso’s troubles with Enrique and Jeanne in this period did not come in isolation. The chief nobles of Castile chiefly fell into factions behind the two pre-eminent families of de Lara and de Haro. The latter family had been in the ascendant since the days of Berengaria’s regency. However, Ferdinand had been tolerably even handed with the de Laras, keeping them happy enough to be peaceful. Alfonso, however, openly favoured the de Lara faction. Unsurprisingly this resulted in a good deal of disaffection, at a time when the nobility were no longer gainfully employed in the reconquest. The result was an alliance between Enrique, the de Haros and Jaime of Aragon, which hampered Alfonso’s control over both Seville and the north. In 1254, Enrique and Jaime agreed an alliance by the marriage of Enrique to Jaime’s daughter Costanza, the sister of Alfonso’s own queen. However, within the year Alfonso, chiefly through Queen Violante’s intercession with her father, had brought an end to this proposed marriage and the appearance of peace had returned. The price of Alfonso’s speedy rejection of his father’s modus operandi would come later.²⁰

Meanwhile, Jeanne left Castile with her son and heir apparent, Ferdinand. Her younger son Luis (who was probably only just eleven years old) was left behind in the custody of Alfonso, who, in fulfilment of his vow to his father, made provision for him, investing him as Señor de Marchena and Zuheros. This was probably because he had practically no inheritance prospects in relation to Ponthieu. Henry issued safe conducts for Jeanne and Ferdinand on 16 July, they spent some time at Bordeaux with the English royal family in August and she was back in Abbeville, capital of Ponthieu, on 31 October, the day before Eleanor’s wedding.²¹

Meanwhile, what of the groom? He set out on 29 May 1254 with his mother, the Archbishop of Canterbury and a large company of knights, magnates, officials and courtiers. The size of the expedition can be gauged by reference to the scale of the preparations which were made for it: bridges and hurdles were ordered for 300 ships, ships were requisitioned, including all the ones in London capable of carrying sixteen horses. The honour of providing the ships for the main passengers had been divided among the Cinque Ports and Yarmouth, Winchelsea drawing the queen and Yarmouth drawing Edward. However, when the ships were assembled the men of Winchelsea were enraged by how much better Yarmouth’s ship was and attacked it, killing some of the Yarmouth men, carrying off the (obviously superior) mast and fitting it onto their own vessel.²²

Edward and his entourage arrived in Bordeaux around 10–12 June. He was housed separately from his parents, his mother staying in a house which she had used on a previous visit. Henry was absent; he was still reducing the troublesome fortress of La Réole, where the hard core of resisters had congregated. However, he had provided for suitable donatives (three gold cloths each) to be ready for his wife and Edward to offer at the churches of St Andrew, St Sever and Holy Cross.²³

Edward did not set off for Castile at once. He went to join his father shortly after his arrival and it is likely that he spent much of the summer being brought up to speed on how things stood in Gascony and what he would have to do on his return after his marriage. We know that some letters were issued in his name at this time which indicate that, while he was giving some orders directly (for example ordering William Longespée to invest the chateau at Bourg-sur-Mer), otherwise an administration over which he had little control was being put in place. He did meet his mother and brother-in-law elect as they passed through on their way to Ponthieu in August, giving him a chance to learn a little about Eleanor before their meeting. He was then at La Réole after the surrender of the town later in August.²⁴

Somehow, everything became delayed and somewhat less glorious than was suggested by the huge send-off in England. Although Edward’s knighting had been set for 13 October, he did not arrive at Burgos until after this date. The reasons for this are unclear; certainly Henry was by this point settled in Bordeaux, which would suggest that Edward’s presence was not vital. It seems possible that Edward’s commitment to being involved with the administrative issues arising out of the La Réole dispute were the cause, for we find him in September making arrangements for settling some points arising from this. A commission was constituted and approved by Edward on 15 September and by the king on 29 September, and a peace based on forgetting the past was declared by Henry in Bordeaux on 7 October, when he counselled the contending parties to make up their differences by marriages, as he had done with Alfonso.

Another possible reason for the delay emerges from the documentation of Edward’s stay in Bayonne around the start of October. The plan had been for Edward to be escorted by a distinguished retinue of English magnates, but in fact the companions he took were mostly Gascon, and had to buy clothes for the wedding in Bayonne. It may be, therefore, that the late arrival of his retinue prompted a delay, and in the end Edward was finally forced to set off without them.²⁵

Whatever the reason, Edward left Bayonne on 9 October and arrived in Burgos on 18 October. This, and the fact that Alfonso was making his first visit to Burgos since his own accession, doubtless provided an excuse for entertainments on a considerable scale. Certainly for the rest of the year Alfonso dated his documents by reference to the year in which the Lord Edward visited Castile, which indicates that in his eyes the visit had been a great event. With both Castilian and English royal families fond of hunting, it is inevitable that some time was spent in this diversion, and this will have provided an easy way for the young couple to get to know each other and enjoy the discovery of the first of their common interests.

Prior to the wedding there will certainly have been a visit to the venue at Las Huelgas, which resonated with the bridal couple’s shared family heritage. It also provided a suitable meeting point for the two because architecturally Las Huelgas was predominantly a French Gothic construction, which referenced the architecture and layout of the Plantagenet pantheon at Fontevrault. It will therefore have seemed familiar to Edward and set the context for Eleanor’s forthcoming change of countries. There will also have been an opportunity to pay their respects at the tombs of Alfonso VIII and Eleanor of England, which probably did not at the time bear their current, heavily heraldic appearance, and that of Queen Berengaria, who had recently been reburied, at the instance of her granddaughter and namesake, in a magnificent decorated tomb chest featuring Gothic arcading and carvings of the Virgin Mary with Christ.

What would the young couple have made of each other at these first meetings? Edward’s appearance in later life is well attested by Nicholas Trivet, a chronicler who wrote for Edward and Eleanor’s daughter Mary and appears to have been given a good deal of inside information by her. He tells us what later archaeological investigations confirm, that Edward was indeed unusually tall, standing head and shoulders above most men, earning his nickname ‘Longshanks’. He also tells us that Edward was golden haired in his childhood but as he grew older his hair changed to dark brown, and that he shared his father’s characteristic droop in one eye. He also had a slight lisp, although Trivet assures us that this in no way hampered him in argument; one may perhaps here call to mind the slight lisp which has been no hindrance to Sean Connery’s acting career. Marginal sketches of Edward in later life show that he had a very decided, square jaw and suggest that the clean-shaven look which was then the accepted mode was not easy to maintain, with suggestions of five o’clock shadow in more than one representation.

The latter characteristic was probably not much in evidence at just fifteen; at this stage he was a mere sketch of the man he was to become. Probably dark haired (just), there seems every likelihood that he was tall, thin and not yet done growing – in the awkward, half-fledged stage of the teenage years. As for Eleanor, who also probably still had a couple of years of growing to do, it seems likely that she had little of adult beauty, except possibly her fine eyes. However, her training to interest herself in her husband’s affairs, and her genuine passion for horses and interest in music, probably made her as acceptable a female companion as Edward could reasonably have hoped for.

With introductions and preliminary celebrations out of the way, sometime in late October Edward and some of his companions were knighted by Alfonso, and on 1 November the marriage was performed at Las Huelgas. Edward was fifteen years old, and Eleanor was still a few weeks short of her thirteenth birthday. On the day of the wedding, Alfonso formally abandoned his claims to Gascony in favour of his new brother-in-law and thereafter there would have been some days of further festivities. But it was not long before the couple set out for Gascony.²⁶

On 11 November, the newlyweds are recorded as being at Vittoria in Spain (about halfway between Burgos and Bayonne), but by 21 November the records show their presence in Bayonne, and one of Edward’s clerks described him in a charter as ‘now reigning in Gascony as prince and lord’. One might fondly imagine that all would be easy going at this point; however it is clear that problems will have been apparent to Eleanor from the very start. Edward was completely out of money: Trabut-Cussac describes how the newly married couple’s route back to Bordeaux can be traced by the IOUs left in their wake. This was not a significant problem at the time – there were plenty of takers, with the security of future tax and trading revenue, as well as those from confiscated goods and justice. But it demonstrates that Henry III had left the province in a parlous state financially and had abandoned Edward to sink or swim – without leaving him enough money even to pay the soldiers notionally left for his security. Furthermore, the bad feeling left by the recent disputes was far from dispelled – Edward and Eleanor’s retinue was reportedly abused by locals on their arrival from Spain. On the honeymoon, therefore, all emphatically did not smell of roses.²⁷

It is almost certain that Eleanor met neither of her parents-in-law at this stage. Certainly neither of them attended the marriage, and records suggest that Henry left Bordeaux on 3 or 4 November en route to Cognac and Fontevrault and that he first received news of the marriage having taken place on 20 November, when he was at Marmoutier. Although Howell speculates that the two Eleanors would have met on the return to Gascony, this seems unlikely as it was in this period that Henry and Eleanor together made the first of their peacemaking visits to Paris. Henry had sought permission from Louis IX for himself and his queen to travel back from Gascony by way of France, and the records indicate that they set out together in late October. Further, it is unlikely that Eleanor would have been late to join a visit which she (as sister of the French queen, Marguerite) had probably played no small part in arranging.²⁸

Given the ages of the two protagonists – Eleanor not even in her teens – one is bound to wonder whether the marriage was consummated at this stage. As indicated above, the age of marriage for girls was generally fifteen or older owing to the risks of juvenile childbirth. Yet at the same time numerous child marriages took place, with the young bride being brought up as a member of the groom’s parents’ household. Examples of this approach include Marguerite of France, wife of Henry the Young King, and Alys, her sister, both of whom were brought up from a very young age at Henry II’s court. In such cases, the consummation of the marriage was generally delayed until the age of about fifteen.²⁹

However, more difficult questions arise in cases like that of Edward and Eleanor, when the parties were above canon age but younger than usual. It is certainly the case that some young marriages were consummated. For example, Margaret Beaufort was only thirteen years of age when she bore the future Henry VII, and the marriage of Mary de Bohun (aged twelve) to the future Henry IV was consummated in order to guarantee her vast inheritance. However, it appears that it was more usual for conjugal relations to be delayed in such cases; for example, Isabella of Angoulême was married aged twelve in 1200, but did not have her first child until seven years later. The knowledge that she obviously had no fertility problems, since she was to bear John at least five children in a nine-year period and then go on to have at least another six by her second husband, indicates that consummation was delayed until her eighteenth year. Likewise, Eleanor of Provence, who had at least five children, did not bear her first child until over three years after her wedding, aged a little under thirteen. Again, Mary de Bohun, although required to consummate the marriage for political reasons at twelve, then lived apart from her husband for about four years, bearing her first live child more than five years after the marriage.³⁰

So into which camp did Eleanor fall? Certainly the evidence of Eleanor’s later fecundity (estimates of the number of children she bore Edward range from nine to nineteen, but the best evidence suggests at least fifteen children) and the fact that the first verifiable child born to Edward and Eleanor was sometime between 1262 and 1264, would tend to suggest that they were not regularly cohabiting in the early years of their marriage. However, politically it would seem probable that from the English point of view the marriage required to be put beyond doubt so no legal quibble could be taken at a later date, especially in the light of the fact that Alfonso had already given evidence of being tricky. This approach would also be consistent, and is only really consistent, with leaving Edward and Eleanor together in Gascony for a year; if the marriage was not to be consummated, she would have been more likely to be put in charge of Edward’s parents, or have a separate establishment created for her.³¹

Confirming this is the slight, but significant, evidence of the child Parsons calls Anonyma. In a book of controllers’ accounts for the king’s wardrobe in 1286–7, there is a record showing that the queen provided a gold cloth on 29 May 1287 to the Dominican priory at Bordeaux to mark the anniversary of the death of her daughter, who was buried there. There is extensive material for the king’s and queen’s wardrobes in 1286 and none shows any sign of a child dying at this time, nor do any of the documented children at this date ‘go missing’. Accordingly, this was not the first anniversary, but an anniversary of a death longer ago. This leaves two possible years in which a child could have died in May when Edward and Eleanor were in Bordeaux: 1255, and on return from Crusade in 1274.

One can effectively eliminate the latter possibility. Since Edward and Eleanor took none of their children with them on Crusade, the only child who could have died in 1274 was one born on their travels. There were three of these: the unnamed child who is recorded as being born and dying in Acre in 1271, Joan ‘of Acre’ and Alphonso. Both of the latter two were alive and well in 1274, and for some considerable time thereafter. Therefore, unless either the child born at Acre completed the long journey back to Gascony and survived nearly six months before dying (Edward and Eleanor were certainly in Gascony by November 1273) or they for some reason brought the body of their child back to bury, the child buried in Bordeaux was one born in 1255. As for these alternative possibilities, the former seems to be ruled out by the accounts for the children’s household, which indicate that only two children (Joan and Alphonso) were with their parents in Gascony in 1274. The latter is just possible, but seems highly improbable given the conditions in the East and the length of time taken by them on the journey back.³²

Thus there is a compelling case to be made for the birth of a child as a result of the early consummation of the marriage in 1255. This is entirely consistent with the probabilities. Yet again there is a parallel with Mary de Bohun. She bore a dead child – the result of the premature consummation of the marriage – in 1382 and cohabitation ceased after this until she was of an age to enter on childbearing safely. The attentive reader will of course have deduced that Anonyma cannot have been a full-term child. A marriage consummated on 1 November would not generally produce issue until late July. Anonyma would therefore be a stillbirth some weeks short of the due date, possibly caused by an accident, an illness or some problem with the baby herself. This hypothesis also fits well with the known itinerary of Edward in mid-1255: the records show that he was based around Bordeaux much of the time, and was recorded there both in mid-May and at the beginning of June. In mid-May he went to conduct business in St Emilion, and was at work there on 27 May. Thereafter there is an abrupt gap in the records until 1 June, when Edward is found at Bordeaux. The administrative records therefore echo an anxious young husband awaiting the outcome of his even younger wife’s first labour, a sudden dash to its premature commencement and a sad outcome.³³

One final piece of evidence in support of this conclusion as to consummation is the attitude of Edward and Eleanor to the marriages of their daughters. Despite heavy political pressure, Eleanor begged her husband not to send their daughter to Aragon at the age of thirteen and to instead wait at least eighteen months; she succeeded. While there may have been other political considerations which fed into this specific stance, it is also the case that not one of their daughters was sent away to be married before she was past fourteen; one married younger, but was kept at home until she was past fifteen – and her husband had to beg to get her even then.³⁴

There is therefore good reason to suppose that the marriage was consummated at once and a premature child was born and died in late May 1255 – when Eleanor was only thirteen and a half years old. The premature daughter, who must have died at birth or very shortly afterwards, was probably given no name; usually commemorations recorded in the wardrobe accounts identify the person by name.

This unsuccessful pregnancy was obviously a traumatic event for a thirteen-year-old to endure and may well have had implications for Eleanor’s health for some time. It is possible that, as with Mary de Bohun, cohabitation did not then resume for a few years, but on balance this seems unlikely since the pair do not appear to have been kept apart at all on their return, but resided at court. More probably a degree of caution was exercised by them to avoid conception until Eleanor was somewhat older.

There are a number of other threads to note from the very limited material available in relation to this first year. The first is to understand something about Gascony, both because it played a significant part in the politics of the English court and because it was a place of importance to Eleanor and Edward.

Gascony was the most substantial remaining part of Eleanor of Aquitaine’s territories. Like all of those territories it was emphatically a southern French territory, having its own distinctive language and traditions. One important aspect of this which is easy to forget – both for modern readers and for the Angevins and other northern French, for whom feudalism was the natural way of things – is that it was not a feudal territory at all. Its towns and nobles had far more independence than their English counterparts, and many of the nobles held their lands freely, and were not subject to any feudal service. The result was that it was impossible to rule Gascony by routes which would seem intuitive to someone used to the English or even the northern French way of doing things. The truth, as indicated earlier, is that the Duke of Aquitaine did not by any means have the power of a ruler with full feudal authority. If he asked one of his nobles to jump, the answer was unlikely to be ‘How high?’ – it was more likely to be unprintable.

Adding to these difficulties was the fact that it was itself a disparate territory, covering not only the sophisticated and prosperous cities of Bordeaux and Bayonne, which were commercially dependent upon trade with England, but also large stretches of almost undeveloped countryside and the rugged mountainous regions of Soule, Béarn and Bigorre, each of which effectively controlled a route over the Pyrenees. There was no recognised body of law or custom which prevailed across the region; different counties had differing traditions and laws. Internally it had its own conflicts, borne of both the different interests represented by its various areas and the natural rivalries and factions which sprung up within each area. Notable among these was the almost non-stop strife which was carried on between certain individuals and families. Examples include the festering dispute over the county of Bigorre between Gaston de Béarn, probably the most powerful single noble in the territory, and his neighbour Esquivat de Chabanais. Then there were the disputes between Arnaud Odon and Gerald of Armagnac, between the Viscount of Soule and Arnaud of Tardets, and between Gaston de Béarn and Auger of Soule (the heir to the Viscount of Soule).

Nor were the cities free of trouble; a constant feature of Bordeaux politics was the internecine strife which prevailed between the factions of Colomb and Soler. These were generally old-fashioned, visceral disputes about dominance, not sophisticated political disagreements which were likely to be amenable to mediation. Moreover, they radiated outwards owing to the complicated interrelationships within the duchy.

Another complicating factor is that at no time until Edward’s accession was Gascony actually managed by someone with ultimate authority; until then, including when Edward resided there in 1254–5, the authority held was subordinate to that of Henry III, who was well understood by the Gascons to be out of touch with the minutiae of the region. Accordingly, any decision to which exception was taken could be, and was, simply appealed to England, thereby ensuring delay. The result was that it was practically impossible to carry out any wide-ranging reforms. This tension was more or less exactly what hamstrung Simon de Montfort – and resulted in his trial by Henry III.³⁵

The net result was that there were only two practical routes open for governing in Gascony – to proceed by consensus, guiding rather than commanding; or to take sides, recruiting the forces of one party to keep the other down. Henry naturally favoured the first – but, as can be imagined, in these circumstances governing by consensus resembled herding cats and offered little room for pushing forward reforms. Equally naturally, Simon de Montfort in his incumbency as seneschal favoured the latter, siding with the Colomb faction in Bordeaux against the Soler family and with his nephew de Chabanais against Gaston de Béarn in the dispute over the succession to the central county of Bigorre.³⁶

The second strand to pick up is to briefly evaluate the work which Edward was doing. In truth, although Edward did involve himself closely with the governing of Gascony, he was not entirely left to sink or swim: a number of his mother’s Savoyard advisers, including John FitzGeoffrey and Stephen de Salines, are among the advisers who were with him in this year. Eleanor’s relative Michael de Fiennes (brother of William), who was also one of the party and became Edward’s first chancellor, also had some Savoyard connections.³⁷

But even allowing for this advice, Trabut-Cussac has traced the work which Edward was doing throughout the year in the local rolls and gives him a very good ‘end-of-term’ report. He concludes that, with a seriousness surprising for his age, he worked hard to forge a definitive peace and to recreate a normal administration in the face of constant financial problems. He also records that Edward managed to procure many submissions from men who had a year before been in rebellion and that while he still left Gascony poor, it was enjoying a lasting peace and a reasonable administration. This conclusion is borne out by a study of the local records which show that from the time when the young couple arrived back in Gascony in late November Edward was apparently busy issuing orders, pardons, restoring goods, and sitting in justice, considering matters both great and small which were brought by locals to his court. This approach is very interesting in that it resonates with the interests Edward would come to show later as a king.³⁸

In terms of approach, consensus together with limited administrative reform was the order of the day. Looking at the various acts issued, a good deal of what was being done was effectively unpicking the most controversial steps taken by Montfort. He encouraged the mediation of other disputes, successfully disposing of some (for the present at least). Building blocks were also put in place for a more sensible and cohesive administrative system: a constable of Bordeaux was appointed, and he gradually became the chief financial officer of the city, thereby reducing the status of both the Colombs and the Solers (whose prominence had stemmed from their direct financial dealings with the Crown) and taking much of the political sting out of their intractable differences.³⁹

In addition, Edward commenced his military experience during this period, as money problems caused unrest. Gascon seneschals traditionally struggled financially on two fronts. First, they had to get the necessary co-operation of the local lords in persuading their tenants to pay the tax on agricultural holdings, which was estimated according to the number of cattle maintained. Secondly, revenues always fell short of English expectation; there was an entrenched mindset in England that Gascony made a considerable net financial contribution to revenues – which may well have underpinned some of Henry III’s disputes with de Montfort. This had almost certainly been true back in Henry II’s day. However, we now know that in fact at this point Gascony was a net drain on English resources. Edward’s position was worse than that of the usual seneschal, in that the consequence of the past upheavals was that normal revenues were considerably down even on historic levels.⁴⁰

He therefore decided to levy an extraordinary tax, which was dressed up in part as the traditional levy on the occasion of his being knighted. In the context of general austerity following the civil unrest of the past year or so, and when the papacy was seeking a tax of a tenth in support of Henry III’s supposed intention to go on Crusade in Sicily, it needs hardly be said that, however much good Edward was doing in managing individual grievances, this was a step which was hugely unpopular and provoked further unrest.⁴¹

Quite how serious this was is unclear: Henry III had a tendency to ‘spin’ facts (or even invent stories) to suit his convenience. One should therefore perhaps not give too much credence to his announcement in April 1255 that he had to send reinforcements to Edward. However, it is certainly the case that military steps were being taken on a number of fronts, which indicates a fairly tense situation; in July Edward was besieging the fortress of the Comte de Gramont and he also reinforced Fronsac, occupied Guiche, and improved the fortifications at Bayonne (sending for materials from his territory in Ireland).⁴²

Finally, in looking at what was done during the course of the year, the records of Edward’s travels, in which he was probably mostly accompanied by Eleanor (when the vicissitudes of pregnancy allowed) already show signs of a more active style of government than that of his father. Henry’s year in Gascony was relatively static, with a number of stops for between two weeks and a month. Edward, however, was constantly on the move, albeit with a number of bases to which he made regular returns, such as Bordeaux itself and Saint-Macaire, a pleasant fortified village just outside Bordeaux which housed a substantial priory dedicated to St Sauveur. It is highly unusual to see a stay of longer than a week at any location; far more common are two-night stops as he repeatedly visited Bayonne, Dax, Saint-Sever, Bazas, Castillon, Bergerac and other major towns throughout the region – as well as stopping in La Réole to see how it was settling down. This is consistent with Edward’s much more active style generally, with his interest in administration, which would encourage him to see the details on site.⁴³

Having marshalled the evidence for this first period of government, one is forced to wonder whence came this interest and this active approach, so different from that of his father. One credible answer is not far to seek – this approach was consistent with the hands-on style of government which was the norm in Castile. It is probably too much at this stage to look simply to Eleanor, but in the weeks surrounding the marriage Edward had ample time to consult with the experienced and didactically minded Alfonso, to assist in forming his views as to how he would manage his first solo venture. Alfonso, too, will have been within easy reach for correspondence in this first year. But Eleanor had also been brought up in this school of thought, and had witnessed her father’s administrative business at close range; she will certainly have wanted to see her husband develop as a ruler in the style of her father. It therefore seems probable that Edward’s first foray into government was inspired by ideas received from his new Castilian family, and supported by Eleanor.

Meanwhile, for Eleanor the year will have been an important learning curve too. Not only would she have to familiarise herself with a new court and way of doing things, and a complete new cast of characters, she will also have wanted to begin to bring her Anglo-Norman French up to scratch – the French that she spoke with her mother will almost certainly have been Picard. It is likely that between this, her pregnancy and illness, the discussions which she shared with Edward as to the infinite series of Gascon problems and her natural concerns about Edward’s first military forays, time will not have hung heavy on her hands.

Apart from the learning which each had to do during the year, it appears clear that this was a very important time for Edward and Eleanor as a couple, providing them with a relatively unsupervised period in which they could build a relationship in a normal fashion. In this, the sojourn seems to have been a thoroughgoing success, laying down some of the ties which held them together so firmly in later years. In both these respects one can perhaps discern a very modern parallel; in today’s English royal family, both the queen and the Duke of Edinburgh and the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge vouch for the importance of just such a period of relative normalcy before joining full-time royal duties. The success of the year is reflected in the considerable fondness which both developed and later manifested for the area – which is apparent in the fact that they returned more often than appears to have been necessary to Gascony in the years ahead, with visits in 1261–2, 1273–4 and 1286–9. It is also vouched for by Trabut-Cussac, who prior to his death studied Edward’s Gascon endeavours more closely than any other scholar. He describes Edward as having a particular fondness and solicitude for Gascony.⁴⁴

The pair seem too to have established close relationships with a number of those who were around them at the time, forming the nucleus of what would become a stable and harmonious domestic court. Otho de Grandison and Ebulo de Montibus were of course present. So was an English Montfort, Peter, and very possibly John de Vescy – both of whose families later allied with Eleanor’s. Guy de Lusignan, too, is frequently glimpsed as present in the records, and may have met his future wife, Eleanor’s cousin, Jeanne of Châtellherault, during this year.

With so much going on and being learnt, it might seem puzzling that Edward and Eleanor did return to England so soon. However, the answer is simple: it was not their decision. On 17 August, Henry III had sent in unequivocal terms to recall Edward from Gascony, indicating that he should go to Ireland and announcing who should take charge in his stead. Although Edward had notionally received Gascony as part of his provision on marriage, Henry had not actually renounced his title as Duke of Aquitaine to him; short of rebellion, Edward therefore had to leave Gascony. One can readily imagine that he did so reluctantly – indeed, the period of time which he spent crossing i’s and dotting t’s before he finally left on 29 November speaks for that, as well as for his enthusiasm for the administrative side of his job. So too does the position as regards Peter of Savoy. It was intended that Edward should hand over the reins in Gascony as soon as possible after the arrival of Peter of Savoy, appointed by Henry as seneschal. Edward, however, did no such thing. Peter arrived in September, but Edward did not leave Gascony until late October, continuing to do business via his own appointees (including Eleanor’s cousin Michael de Fiennes) until late in October; Peter of Savoy’s name is notable by its absence from the records.⁴⁵

One final point can be noted. There is every sign that by the end of the first year Edward was already devoted to Eleanor. The evidence for this comes from the documents surrounding his return. It was certainly Henry III’s idea – in fact his command – that Edward should not return to England at all at this time, but instead go to Ireland until Easter 1256 to see to the affairs of his second territory. But when Edward did finally leave Gascony, he instead followed Eleanor back to England, flouting the instruction to go to Ireland. In Edward’s open defiance of his father’s command we can see a strong desire not to be too long away from Eleanor. For the next thirty-five years, only dire necessity would keep them apart.⁴⁶