6
At the start of the revolt, Eleanor had been in England for two and a half years and was still only sixteen years old. By the time it drew to a close in 1265, she was twenty-three and had lived through a political storm and personal vicissitudes which marked her for life. Therefore, the revolt and the war which followed cannot be ignored. And yet for seven years the press of events and the constant realignments of loyalty and interest which took place at the English court push her almost entirely out of sight. Almost the only way to find Eleanor and understand what she was doing and the effect which this major event had on her is therefore to follow Edward, whose movements and political manoeuvrings are well covered.
On 2 May, Henry agreed to the Barons’ terms. Edward, too, was required to consent, and his actions were very interesting – and revealing.
Putting the debate in context, when looking at the list of the main barons involved, it might at first seem probable that Edward would consent gladly – the list is thick with those who were or had been in his household, such as John FitzGeoffrey, Peter de Montfort and Peter of Savoy. However, Edward’s recent move to the Lusignans was thorough enough for him to make it very plain that he did not support the moves of these men who were officially closely associated with him. It also appears more than possible that it was Edward, in concert with the Lusignans, who came up with the first scheme to frustrate the practical effect of the oath; when the time came to nominate his twelve councillors, the king nominated William, Aymer and Guy de Lusignan and their brother-in-law John de Warenne among his. Edward’s involvement in this rather puerile gesture is certainly suggested by the nomination not just of Warenne, his friend and Eleanor’s relation, but also Edward’s cousin and friend Henry of Almain. Indeed, one of the complaints that was made against the Lusignans at Oxford two months later was that they had encouraged Edward to subvert the whole reform movement.1
Thus the Provisions of Oxford (as the results of the June parliament at Oxford have become known) provided for control of both Henry and Edward. The committee of twenty-four was replaced with one of fifteen, arrived at by a system of election designed to produce a pro-baronial/Savoyard result – including the queen’s key men Boniface and Peter of Savoy. Everything done by the major officers of state, the Chancery or by way of grants had to be approved by the council. The clear implication was that Henry was incapable of running his own affairs and was back under tutelage. To keep Edward under control, it was ordered that all lands and castles alienated by Henry III were to be restored to the Crown. This included Henry’s grants to Edward – the source of his money.2
Finally, everyone was to swear to uphold the Provisions – formally, in church, at a ceremony which involved the excommunication of all opposed to the Provisions and was supervised by Boniface of Savoy. When the Lusignans refused to take the oath, De Montfort made plain that the revolt had teeth, warning Pembroke,‘You must know without a shadow of a doubt that you will lose your castles or your life.’ In the face of this, the Lusignans, accompanied by Edward, fled to Winchester, where they were pursued by the baronial party. The Lusignans were escorted to the coast and forced to leave, which they finally did on 14 July. They were pursued by the evil wishes of Eleanor of Provence, who prevailed upon King Louis not to allow them to remain in his lands either, because of the fact that the Lusignans had ‘defamed’ her. Yet, even in the face of such open hostility from his mother, Edward still did not abandon them: on 28 June 1258, Edward appointed Geoffrey de Lusignan seneschal of Gascony and granted the Isles of Oleron and the Channel Isles to his brother Guy. However, within a few weeks he was forced to cancel the grants.3
In the face of this defiance, a council of four was appointed to supervise his affairs, with all correspondence requiring to be ‘signed off’ by the councillors. Interestingly, this period of quasi-supervision of Edward’s affairs coincides with two more of Eleanor’s rare overt appearances in the documents. In September 1258 we find her, like a good, dutiful princess, attending the consecration of Salisbury Cathedral in the train of her mother-in-law. And again, on New Year’s Day 1259, she is to be glimpsed at Mortlake, receiving a knight from the Viscount of Béarn and giving him sapphire rings – provided by Eleanor of Provence. Put into context, these formal displays suggest that supervision was being exercised over Eleanor too, directly by Eleanor of Provence.4
The supervision of Edward’s household appears to have been of short duration, as Edward repositioned himself politically over the next few months – improving relations with the Earl of Gloucester to the point of a formal alliance which he concluded in March 1259. Although the alliance was of short duration, it is interesting in showing Edward’s focus at the time and also in listing his supporters. As to the first matter, Edward’s aim is expressly stated in the agreement to be the recovery of his lands – and Gloucester agreed to counsel Edward and to aid him in achieving this goal. Edward’s concern at this time is therefore not the broader issues of royal control, but his own lands – his own present business. Secondly, however, the agreement lists supporters of Edward who Gloucester agrees to back. The people identified include Henry of Almain, Earl Warenne, Philip Basset, Robert Walerand, Roger Clifford, Roger Leyburn, Hamo Lestrange and William la Zouche. Aside from Henry of Almain and Earl Warenne, whose links to Edward and Eleanor have already been examined, this list contains a number of the Marchers with whom Edward had already allied in 1257 and who were to be his jousting companions in future. The list therefore shows signs of Edward continuing to surround himself with like-minded laymen whose prime loyalty was to him.
What is still more interesting about this agreement is its true likely motive. Aside from being useful if Gloucester could do anything to help Edward regain his castles, it probably represented a deliberate attempt to make common cause with Gloucester, not with a view to the welfare of the English properties but to that of Gascony. For Gloucester was slated to attend the last round of negotiations for the peace treaty with France, the Treaty of Paris. Edward’s concern was that all the English royal family were supposed to renounce their rights to the Angevin inheritance of Normandy, Maine, Touraine and Anjou, which he perceived as weakening his current tactical position as Lord of Gascony as well as his future position as King of England with historical claims to these regions.5
This point of interest – opposition to the Treaty of Paris – was also to help bring Edward and Eleanor into closer communion with Simon de Montfort. De Montfort had an interest in Gascony by reason of family claims and his own long residence there as seneschal. He also had, through his wife, an interest in the claims in France which the Treaty of Paris was to put aside. He may well already have been planning to use the need for her consent to force Henry to deal with his financial claims in relation to her dowry and his own expenditure in Gascony. Until these were adequately dealt with, the Montforts, too, would oppose the Treaty of Paris.
It appears that it was at around this point that Edward ceased to focus solely on his lands and really began to grapple with the approach which he should adopt in relation to the more substantive issues of government. So from this time forward there is evidence of Edward putting himself forward as a supporter of reforms in justice and administration. For example, in August 1259 Edward wrote to his lieutenant at Chester arguing the necessity to maintain good government at all times ‘if on account of the influence of anyone common justice is denied to anyone of our subjects by us or our bailiffs we lose the favour of God and man and our lordship is belittled. We wish therefore that common justice shall be exhibited to everyone.’ This may, of course, be regarded as a cynical exercise in rebranding, but it is entirely consistent with Edward’s later approach both in relation to the baronial reform movement and in terms of legal and administrative reform when king and should therefore be regarded as a more fundamental change.6
Whence had this shift in outlook come? I believe that this move can probably be traced, at least in part, to Eleanor. It is just possible that Edward himself came to consider the merits of the reformist approach, despite his early opposition. However, the likelihood is that some of his closest advisers – among whom we can number Eleanor and very possibly Robert Burnell (who would later play such an important part in the legal reforms which Edward introduced) – were involved in this change of heart. Eleanor’s involvement particularly seems probable when one considers that the first and second parts of the Siete Partidas deal with the importance of lawmaking, indicating that a good legislator should possess mindfulness of God, a love of justice, a knowledge of the law and a willingness to change laws if necessary as well as model provisions for temporal and public law. They canvassed in detail the duties of the king towards God, the people, and the country.7
More evidence of Edward’s change of approach is found at the time of the autumn parliament in 1259, when unrest was surfacing from the lesser nobility about the pace of reform – or more accurately the lack of pace of reform. Although the Crown had been neatly hamstrung, the wider concerns of the reformers, in particular as to administrative abuses by magnates, had gone next to nowhere. This was substantially because Gloucester was opposed to any inquiry into and reform of his own administration. De Montfort was unwilling to oppose Gloucester until his own concerns were addressed – one of which was an arbitration under Gloucester’s aegis which was due to report by 1 November over the vexed question of the dower rights.
In any event, the parliament of October 1259 opened with a protest by a group picturesquely described as ‘the community of the bachelors of England’. It was directed to the council and specifically to Edward and complained in terms about the failure to progress on the wider issues – which were of great practical moment to local society. No one knows who the ‘community of bachelors’ was. The likelihood is that it was a group of the knightly class, and this reading is supported by the fact that the term ‘bachelors’ was used to describe young men (knights) who were in attendance at tournaments. Still further support is given by the fact that Edward had recently become a keen participator in tournaments, and had attended three that year.
Edward’s reaction to the protest was startlingly different to his response to the original reformist pledge – he swore immediately to support the bachelors to the death in fighting for the community of England and the common good. Putting all this together, the address to Edward and his response bear all the signs of being staged as an opportunity to let Edward publicise his change of position. The protest and Edward’s intervention led to the promulgation of the Provisions of Westminster, which provide the high-water mark of the actual reform movement (as opposed to the anti-royalist elements of the disputes). These provisions abolished a number of abuses and dealt with a miscellany of practical grievances – rights of suit, distraint, exemption from jury service. It is significant that not until Edward’s reign were such matters seriously considered again. Again, therefore, we can see that Edward’s manifesto as future king is being ‘trailed’ by Edward and his team, among whom we must count Eleanor.8
To reinforce his move to the reformers, two days later Edward entered into a formal agreement to ‘aid and counsel’ Montfort and maintain the baronial enterprise. This agreement was witnessed by Henry of Almain, Earl Warenne and Roger Leyburn – all members of his clique. However, as with the earlier alignment with Gloucester, the alliance seems to have been of a multifaceted nature, and also to have had reference to Gascony, Montfort’s financial issues and the threat to both posed by the Treaty of Paris, which was yet to be finalised. Finally, again as with the Gloucester Treaty, an alliance with one of the central members of the council freed Edward up to make moves to regain his English lands, and movement on this front soon followed. Between mid-October and mid-November, Henry, Eleanor of Provence, Montfort, Gloucester and Peter of Savoy all departed for France in preparation for the ratification of the Treaty of Paris on 4 December 1259, leaving England under the Bigod brothers, who were sympathetic to Edward’s recent approach to reform.9
An interesting question at this point is where Eleanor went. Edward, we know, stayed in England. It has been suggested that on this occasion Eleanor did not remain with him, but instead went with her in-laws. The reason for this suggestion is the apparent meeting between Henry and Eleanor of Provence and Eleanor’s mother Jeanne and brother Ferdinand, evidenced by their obtaining privileges for Ponthevin merchants. However, Eleanor was reported to be with Edward on Henry and Eleanor of Provence’s return in spring. She did not, unlike her sisters-in-law (who are mentioned in correspondence as being with the king), receive any presents from Eleanor of Provence at Christmas 1259, which the king and queen spent abroad. Further, her health (unlike his and the queen’s) is not mentioned by Henry in letters to Hugh Bigod to be transmitted to Edward. All this suggests powerfully that Eleanor passed up the opportunity to see her family in order to remain with her husband.10
Once his family and mentors had gone, Edward seized back his castles and replaced the council-appointed custodians with his own appointees. This was not just a snub to the council, but to Eleanor of Provence, who was in alliance with the council, and some of whose Savoyard henchmen had been put in charge of these castles. Then, to further put fuel on the fire, Edward, in concert with de Montfort, began to argue that Parliament could be gathered in Henry’s absence – in the face of Henry’s clear prohibition on Parliament being convened while he was still in France. This was the touch point for a row between Edward (and presumptively Eleanor) and his parents which was never entirely resolved.
Within weeks, both sides were raising arms. Then Henry sent home as his representative none other than the Earl of Gloucester, with whom Edward was by now embroiled in a violent disagreement over their competing claims to Bristol Castle. The outcome was disastrous. Gloucester, possibly maliciously, reported back that Edward was planning to dethrone his father in a military coup. The king’s party continued to prepare for war, with Henry summoning those barons and knights he thought he could trust, and Gloucester raising his own forces. Fortunately Richard of Cornwall, arriving back from his imperial interlude, took the sensible middle line and had the gates of London closed and guarded against both factions and arms issued to all men over the age of fifteen.11
At this point Edward and Montfort and their retinues (including Eleanor) holed up in the hospital of St John at Clerkenwell, where they stayed for weeks while the process of mediation inched forward. It seems plain that Edward was incandescent with Gloucester, but still more so with his mother, who he blamed for joining with Gloucester to create the situation. To make bad worse, Eleanor of Provence herself intervened to prevent reconciliation. Henry would have reconciled with Edward readily – indeed, he acknowledged that if he only saw Edward he would not refrain from embracing him – but his mother needed to get Edward back under control to maintain her own power base and would not reconcile short of capitulation by Edward.12
Pausing here for a moment, it is perhaps not a great leap to speculate that the situation brought about by a queen who took on an overtly political role and competed for power with her own husband and son was a very formative experience for the eighteen-year-old Edward; and may well have contributed to the role to which Eleanor was later to be confined by Edward (despite her stronger claims to a political role based on her greater intellectual attainments). Here, therefore, we see the origin of the fact that under Edward there would be absolutely no overt political role for Eleanor – and her consequent position in the shadows.
Edward found that, short of giving his parents the rebellion which they had imagined, he had no way back but capitulation. He was forced to eat humble pie – brought before his father in a set piece of contrition in St Paul’s Cathedral – and to yield his castles back up to be run by new appointees. A month later, he was brought to sign up to a new reconciliation with Gloucester. Meanwhile, he had to stand by and watch while Montfort was put on trial by Henry, at the behest of Gloucester and Eleanor of Provence. The final straw came as the trial drew to a close. On 20 July 1260, news came that Edward’s castle at Builth Wells – recently taken from the custody of Edward’s Marcher appointee, the formidable Roger Mortimer – had been besieged by Llywelyn, had fallen and had been razed to the ground.
Edward’s immediate reaction was fury that his property had been lost by the men appointed against his will and determination to go to war. He borrowed money and a month after the castle fell Edward was to be found in Chester preparing for action, with a muster planned for early September. Once again, however, his position was undermined by Henry, Eleanor of Provence and their advisers; on 1 September 1260, Henry agreed a two-year ceasefire and the attack was called off.13
While Edward prepared for war in Wales, Eleanor seems to have been being something of a trial to Henry in another way – hunting freely in the royal estates. One entry in the Close Rolls has her pardoned for taking no fewer than eight hinds without permission in the Forest of Dean while giving her permission to do likewise round St Briavel’s Castle in Gloucestershire. Later, in November, she was given permission to take six hinds in each of the forests of Braden and Gillingham.14
Also at around this time news came of Eleanor’s mother’s remarriage to a Jean De Nesle, Sieur De Falvy et de Herelle. He was a connection of the de Coucy family into which Eleanor’s aunt Philippa de Dammartin had married and seems, judging by the facts that he brought no notable alliance or property and that he outlived Jeanne by over a decade, to have been a handsome, and possibly younger, man. There is no sign that Eleanor took badly to this match; she will doubtless have borne in mind that it was prudent for any countess in her own right to be married. It is not clear how closely linked in time were Jeanne’s remarriage and the death of her eldest son and heir apparent Ferdinand, which occurred at some point in the early 1260s, leaving Eleanor a potential heir to the county of Ponthieu, and increasing her political importance in English eyes.
Meanwhile, the Welsh ceasefire which his father had agreed left Edward in a very difficult position. He could not turn his attention to the Welsh question before 1262, in the face of the ceasefire. His relations with his parents and their advisers would inevitably lead to disagreements if he remained. At the same time, his interest in Gascony needed guarding in the light of the conclusion of the Treaty of Paris in the previous winter and the revival of hostilities between Gaston de Béarn and Esquivat de Chabanais. The obvious practical solution was, therefore, to remove himself from court to Gascony – but to achieve that he needed the co-operation of his father’s (or rather his mother’s) advisers, who, on the evidence of the Welsh affair, would be likely to sacrifice his interests to their own.
The result was an apparent volte-face of staggering proportions. In late September 1260, Edward and Montfort united with Gloucester, and with their combined power they were able to seize control of the council. There was no display of force or open political statement this time, but all the main ministers were replaced. Hugh Bigod was replaced by Hugh Despenser, a friend of Montfort, brother-in-law of Philip Basset and, like Peter de Montfort a member of Edward’s household in Gascony. Montfort’s trial was quietly dropped. However, the alliance came at a price dictated by Gloucester, which was a halt to the legal and administrative reforms which Edward had championed. The coup, though radical, was all but silent – the only overt sign of the new state of affairs was the ceremony in October when Edward knighted Montfort’s eldest sons, Henry and Simon. Indeed, so silent was the coup that it has only fully come to light recently in Maddicott’s research on Simon de Montfort.15
Some might suggest that this alliance, which committed Edward to Gloucester’s essentially anti-reformist policy of allowing great magnates to investigate and correct abuses in their own territories, gives the lie to Edward’s actual commitment to reform. It was indeed changes of this sort which gave Edward his second-best-known nickname ‘the Leopard’: a beast believed to be more cunning than a lion and thought to gain its way by deceit. However, it is more likely that the commitment to reform was real and that the change was truly one of practical necessity. Certainly Edward’s discomfort with this alliance of convenience is strongly suggested by his immediate retreat from England. Rather than staying to keep the new junta in power, he instead decamped with his large retinue, to which the elder Montfort sons, Henry and Simon, were now added.16
In this one trip in late 1260 to early 1261 can be seen brought together three of Edward’s major preoccupations in this period. The first was Gascony – consistently with his actions for the past year or more, once it became apparent that his position in England left him little to do, either for his lands there or the process of reform, Edward headed for Gascony to resume the reins of power and his administrative reforms there. His court was in Gascony before Christmas, and stayed there until March, missing a major family event – the wedding of his sister Beatrice to John of Brittany, which took place on Christmas Day in 1260. This gives the lie to the more usual account that Edward went abroad to participate in tournaments. He did participate in tournaments, it is true, but on the way down to Gascony. He also gave serious attention to the business of government.17
Nonetheless the tournament participation, which certainly did occur in these years, deserves to be counted in the list of priorities. It is not fair to say (as Matthew Paris tends to suggest, and subsequent commentators tend to accept) that participation in tournaments was a sign of irresponsibility or fecklessness. In context, it represents a commitment to establishing himself as personally skilled in arms and a leader in battle. In Eleanor’s family this would be done in actual campaign, but for Edward, in the absence of actual war, in no other way were such skills to be learnt and practised until they came with facility. Richard I, England’s most famous martial king, was a firm believer in the tournament’s use as a training ground for knights, specifically licensing tournaments to improve the quality of English knights, and Alfonso’s Siete Partidas recognises the role of tournaments in keeping fighters in training.
Moreover, whatever the view of Henry or Matthew Paris or the subsequent commentators, success in tournaments was far from a negative point in European society. It is, of course, well known that William Marshal first came to prominence as the great star of the tournament circuit of his era, and that the skills he honed here led to success in actual conflict in his later life, appointments and ultimately the bestowal of an earldom and lands sufficient still to be a point of vibrant debate between his heirs a century later. Nor had this route to distinction passed away – as we have seen, Eleanor’s own uncle by marriage, John of Brienne, took exactly the same route to renown and even royalty. Accordingly, the derogatory tone directed to this aspect of Edward’s life at this time should be discounted both as impractical and as out of step with broader perceptions of the time.18
Again, one may ask why Edward took this course – given that it was certainly not going to be at his parents’ behest. The case for Eleanor’s involvement in this is also quite compelling. It is perhaps natural, given Edward’s later reputation as a warrior, to assume that his fondness for tournaments was innate; and it may be that he would have been keen on such pursuits without Eleanor at his side. However, the assumption is not necessarily a safe one. Three points are worth noting in this regard. The first is that he did take up the tournament circuit shortly after their marriage – despite the fact that he was brought up to despise tournaments. The second is that, consistent with that upbringing, he had never shown signs of any such interest prior to their marriage – unlike, for example, Henry the Young King. The third is that Eleanor, in contrast, was brought up among those who regarded training in arms as a vital accomplishment for a king, active participation in battle on his part as a sine qua non, and tournaments as the best substitute.
The final point of focus (in which we may again see Eleanor’s hand) is that, on his way down to Gascony, Edward reunited with the Lusignans in Paris, where Aymer was on his deathbed, thereby making it plain that he had not abandoned them and that he continued to ally himself with them. To reinforce the point, he (as in 1258) appointed Guy de Lusignan his lieutenant in Gascony, and (almost certainly in concert with Eleanor) arranged the marriage of Geoffrey de Lusignan to Eleanor’s cousin Jeanne, Countess of Châtellherault, the daughter of Eleanor’s maternal aunt Mathilde.19
Thus, throughout the period from the beginning of the barons’ revolt one can detect Edward working at acquiring particular skill sets that he would need in the future: in particular, learning the ropes of government and reform in a hands-on way and learning to be a military leader. Eleanor’s hand in assisting in positioning Edward away from his mother’s influence, maintaining their interest in Gascony and Wales and steering Edward in the direction of the skills which he would be required to exercise as a successful king and did not yet possess cannot be definitively proved, but seems to be strongly indicated, as one would expect, given her upbringing.20
Meanwhile, by April 1261, without Edward’s retinue to hold them back, the Savoyards had moved to regain power and Edward, out of funds, was forced to return. It is plain that when Edward returned in April with Pembroke, he did so with the intention of maintaining the junta via the ties he had re-established with the Lusignans. Yet Pembroke was nobody’s tool. Forming the view that he was more likely to get his estates in England and Wales restored via Henry than Gloucester and Montfort, he rapidly went over to the king’s party.21
Edward’s position was next to impossible. He had loyalties to his parents and his uncle, and yet also to Montfort and the cause of administrative reform. Within the erstwhile junta the aspects of administrative reform to which Edward was pledged were still being blocked by Gloucester, while his parents and the Savoyards were now claiming to espouse and to be the defenders of this aspect of reform. He had settled Gascony in concert with the useful Lusignan alliance, and to move away from that alliance would inevitably cause problems. As to money, Edward had considerably overspent in past years, both in defence of his lands and in the acquisition of his proto-army. On this point, he was much more likely to get funds from the royal–Lusignan alliance in power than the Montfortian one out of power: Montfort was always short of money himself and Gloucester was unlikely ever to assist.
Ultimately the bottom line won, and in May Edward defected to the royal party. But significant numbers of Edward’s supporters, including some close friends, refused to defect with him. Most notable among these were Henry of Almain and Roger Clifford. If anything were needed to add bitterness to a very difficult period, it rapidly transpired that if Edward had made his move in belief that the Savoyard faction were indeed pledged to real reform, they and his parents had played him for a fool.
Henry simply procured a papal dispensation absolving him from his oath to uphold the Provisions of Oxford and annulled all the initiatives introduced under its aegis. Although Edward did not follow the stampede of those whose disgust at this move sent them into alliance with Montfort, there is strong evidence to suppose that he was appalled at this move. Apparently, when told that the king had obtained a letter of dispensation for Edward too, Edward’s reaction was to renew his own oath. However, he was effectively stuck with the royalist side; as Morris points out, it was hardly practical for him to turn back to Montfort, having only defected scant weeks before, and all the financial imperatives for his defection still stood. It is also possible that he and those around him began to sense that the dispute would end in arms and with an actual challenge to Henry’s rule, which Edward would be bound to defend, think what he might of his father as a king. But his action in leaving the country again at once surely marks his profound dislike of this move.22
So Edward, Eleanor and their companions set off again for Gascony in July 1261, where he returned to dealing with the problems of the duchy (never in short supply). Again, examination of what he did while there gives the lie to suggestions that this period of his life was idle and feckless and instead reinforces the impression of a king in training. He promulgated a new constitution for the city of Bordeaux, which gave him a better base for controlling the Colomb–Soler feud. He reformed the coinage and dealt with numerous issues of law and order.23
He also took some military steps to extend the territory under his control, in particular in the strategically important valley of Soule. In early November 1261, in an episode which has not attracted the attention of any of his biographers, he made a significant demonstration of force at the town of Mauléon which resulted in the submission of the troublesome viscounts of Soule. Certain lands, including Mauléon itself, were reluctantly ceded by the viscounts to Edward in exchange for other lands. Interestingly, Edward proceeded to fortify the town in bastide form – the very first evidence of Edward’s interest in bastidisation. Supplementing the existing fortress, the ‘haute-ville’ was protected by an external wall and arranged around a central rectangular place, surrounded by arcaded houses or shops. A similar exercise was performed at Villeneuve-lès-Tardets (today Tardets-Sorholus).
This little-known interlude raises some fascinating questions. In particular, whence came the interest in fortifying towns? Richard I was the first Plantagenet to play with the concept in Gascony, with the foundation of Marmande in 1182, and Mont de Marsan and Nogaro had been locally founded even earlier. Since then little had been done in Gascony proper, though foundations had flourished in the Agenais under Louis IX’s brother Alphonse of Poitiers – provocatively close to the Gascon border. Henry III was of course not interested in military building, and Simon de Montfort seems to have had little interest either. The first proper new foundations in Gascony were to be built by Edward in 1265 (Monségur and Montpouillan). The work at Mauléon therefore represents a new departure. While the new towns of the Agenais probably had some influence, it is also likely that Eleanor’s own experience of the use made routinely in Castile of fortified towns, the emphasis placed on refortifying existing towns to a new user’s requirements and the injunctions reflected in the Siete Partidas that a good king minds the walls of his towns will have had some influence in turning Edward’s thoughts in this direction.
It seems possible that it is to this time, too, that we can trace the first evidence of Eleanor acting as a mediator or arbitrator in disputes between noble houses. A letter from Gaston de Béarn dating from around this time refers to her intervention in his dispute with Fortulus Ameravi. Apparently Eleanor was establishing her own reputation, at least outside England.24
Edward, Eleanor and their entourage remained in Gascony until February 1262, when he returned to fix a more long-term deal on his finances with his parents, who were meanwhile prosecuting some of Edward’s erstwhile companions, such as Roger Leyburn and Roger Clifford – probably with a view to ensuring their alienation from Edward was final. As soon as the deal had been agreed, he returned to France, where he threw himself into the tournament circuit with a new team, the defectors to Montfort being replaced by new recruits from Burgundy, Champagne and Flanders. Eleanor’s involvement in this move is seen in the presence of knights with Ponthevin names such as d’Abbeville and de Neel. The message to his erstwhile companions was stark – no one was indispensable to Edward.25
Again, most commentators see this period as one of frivolity or at best listlessness. However, another construction is possible. It may well be that Edward and his advisers, including Eleanor, were now readying themselves for an armed rebellion in England, not least given the knowledge that a number of their former allies, such as Roger Leyburn, were now in open revolt. If this came to pass, the vast bulk of the military experience and might was now with the rebels. Neither Henry or the Savoyards could be trusted as military leaders. If there was to be a fight, it would be Edward who would have to lead, and with the help of foreign troops. Viewed in this light, his tourneying takes on a very different colour – as being the best possible preparation for if the worst were to come about.26
Edward was back in England by spring 1263, brought back by the news that Llywelyn had overrun much of the March of Wales. It appears likely that it was on this return journey that his vessel encountered a terrible storm, which at first seemed likely to sink the ship. The ledger book of Vale Royal Abbey tells how the rigging was all torn and everyone was praying, but to no avail. Then Edward promised that if he were spared he would found an abbey of at least a hundred monks of the Cistercian Order. Although apparently the storm was calmed at once, the foundation of Vale Royal did not proceed as quickly; Edward’s focus was on more immediate priorities. First he went to London, where his father ordered the men of London and the shires to swear fealty to himself and to Edward as heir. Interestingly, one key magnate refused. This was the new Earl Gilbert of Gloucester, piqued by Henry’s refusal to allow him to enter on his estates before he came of age.
Thereafter Edward turned his attention to Wales, and this move proved the spark which finally ignited the rebellion. The chances are that it would have come at some point soon in any event, but that it came precisely at this time can be traced directly to Edward’s return with his new army, and his consequent failure to ally with the Marcher lords who had previously formed the backbone of his military associates. This added fuel to the fire created by the Savoyard revival and the return of Pembroke.27
Edward commenced his campaign with a trip to Windsor Castle, where he settled Eleanor. However, his other action there – strengthening the defences of the castle – strongly suggests that war with Montfort was now inevitable; after all, Windsor hardly needed to prepare itself for a Welsh incursion. In April, Edward then moved off to campaign in Wales, where his strategy was sensible, but progress was grindingly slow.
Meanwhile, the Marchers and reformers were reviving the Provisions of Oxford, with their anti-alien mindset, and calling for the return of Montfort, who arrived in late April or May and rendezvoused with his supporters at Oxford. By the beginning of June 1263, while Edward was fighting in Wales, Montfort, Leyburn and Clifford rallied an army in the middle of England and began to attack the lands of the queen and her supporters and move to cut off aid from abroad. War had truly broken out. Entirely predictably, Edward was summoned to the aid of his parents, and had no alternative but to go, abandoning the Welsh war.28
Edward’s first appearance outside of Wales comes in the middle of June, when he took an oath of loyalty from the ruling elite of Dover and the other Cinque Ports. Meanwhile, his former tutor in arms, Nicholis de Molis, was appointed to the key post of custodian of Corfe Castle.
By the time Edward reached London and took up residence with his followers at Clerkenwell, his parents were cowering in the Tower without military support or money, surrounded by a predominantly hostile city and deserted by many of their erstwhile supporters. Meanwhile, Montfort continued to attract more supporters from among the high minded, including, most upsettingly for Edward, his own cousin Henry of Almain and the young Northern baron John de Vescy.29
The situation was acute. Without money, many of Edward’s army would defect; without the army there was no one to oppose the rebels. The crisis point came when Montfort put the Londoners to their election – were they for or against the Provisions of Oxford? The merchants in charge of London could see which way the wind was blowing, but tried to persuade Henry to go with it, sending a delegation to Henry asking him to endorse the Provisions of Oxford and send Edward’s knights away.30
By now even more convinced that a military showdown was bound to come and well aware that the royal family’s need for ready money was too urgent to await the outcome of protracted negotiations, Edward moved decisively. On 29 June 1263, in company with Henry’s friend Robert Walerand, he raided the Temple, where ample funds were left on deposit with the banking order of knights, including some of the Crown Jewels. Gaining access under cover of a wish to inspect the jewels, he and his party then conducted a daring smash-and-grab raid which netted about £1,000 – enough to keep his army loyal for a while to come. He then sped to Eleanor at Windsor, grabbing further provisions as they went.
The raid unleashed a wave of violence in London against royalists and aliens, during which one particular key event took place. On 13 July, Eleanor of Provence, characteristically acting independently of her husband and taking the initiative, was ambushed and attacked by a mob while trying to escape to Windsor in her barge. While she emerged unscathed, there is no doubt that she was the subject of a very serious attack and was much shocked by it; pelted with stones and food as well as insults, she was in real fear for her life until rescued by the Montfortian Mayor of London. This was an outrage which incurred Edward’s lasting wrath against the Londoners – but it also signified clearly that the barons had the upper hand, and that large swathes of the people no longer held the royal family in awe.31
Thus, by 4 July, Henry had to submit to the demands of Montfort that he agree that all foreigners be expelled, never to return. Henry remained, effectively under guard, at the Tower – which was now commanded by Edward’s former companion, the Montfortian stalwart Hugh Despenser. Montfort then summoned the feudal host in the king’s name, and (carrying Henry with him like a puppet) instructed them to expel the foreign knights at Windsor. Faced with this large army, Edward too had to capitulate, and his army left England in August 1263.32
However – and somewhat ironically – the departure of the resented foreign troops, together with the free hand which Montfort’s actions in the rest of the country had given the Welsh to create havoc for all the English and Marcher lords in Wales, left the path free to reconciliation between Edward and his Marcher friends. This was still further eased by Montfort’s suggestion of an alliance with Llywelyn, which was anathema to the Marchers.
At first sight, Eleanor seems completely irrelevant to these subtle political shifts in the revolt, but in fact closer scrutiny indicates that again she was, if not advising, at least integrally involved.
This can be seen from the fact that the first move which was made appears to have been a reconciliation of Edward with John de Warenne, sealed by the grant of Stamford and Grantham to him. These were towns to which Warenne had a claim though his father, and they were thus of great interest to him. It will, however, be recalled that these were also Eleanor’s dower lands, and could not be alienated effectively without her consent. Similarly, Henry of Almain was reconciled by a grant of the honour of Tickhill – another part of Eleanor’s dower. With Warenne and Almain back on side, the way was open for further covert diplomacy, and reconciliation with the Marchers. Quite how it was done is not clear – but the fact that, under the agreement reached, Warenne and Henry of Almain were to decide what security should be given by the returning friends suggests that the recapture of their loyalty had indeed been key. But certainly by 18 August the Marchers had once again sworn to be Edward’s friends in all his affairs, and this compact was not made known to Montfort.33
So when, in mid-October 1263, Edward absented himself from London claiming he wanted to see his wife, no suspicions were raised. Nor, still, when Henry joined him shortly afterwards. The surprise came when the Marchers revealed their change in loyalty and came to Windsor in support of the royalist party, leading to a volte-face on the part of the magnates in Parliament, most of whom also declared for the king. Somehow Edward, using Eleanor’s dower as leverage, had changed the balance of power – Montfort no longer had the majority of effective support.34
The two sides for the coming war were now constituted: on the one side was the king, supported by a disparate array of interests – Marchers, Lusignans, Savoyards and members of Edward’s group of followers. Many of these hated each other, but all were now prepared to oppose Montfort, who appeared to wish to govern personally or even to replace the king. In support of Montfort were his own loyal band of followers, and a number of idealistic younger nobles, such as John de Vescy, who believed that Montfort was the only route to the reforms of the Provisions of Oxford. Balanced precariously in between was the new Earl of Gloucester, ‘Red Gilbert’ (a tribute to his flaming red hair).
Gilbert was at this stage twenty years old and, as a result of his famously unhappy marriage to Alix de Lusignan, was profoundly anti-Lusignan. There are strong hints in the documents that she suffered from depression, which may well have been exacerbated by the fact that Gilbert reputedly regarded the marriage as one which was beneath his deserts. It appears that Gilbert had a very well-developed sense of his own importance, which was of course considerable in right of his control over vast estates. One of the major factors disinclining him to both factions was his unwillingness to regard anyone as of greater importance than himself.
It is convenient to pause here, between the end of the political phase of the barons’ revolt and the purely military phase, to consider Eleanor’s life during these years of upheaval and what the evidence tells us about the developing relationship with Edward. The short answer to this inquiry is that everything points to this being a period where Eleanor became established as Edward’s closest confidant and an essential part of his team. As has been seen, as the political manoeuvrings are traced through, Eleanor’s hand can be detected supporting and guiding Edward at every turn of events. She can be seen encouraging his steps away from his parental guidance to independence, in establishing other political alliances for him and steering him towards roles which he could usefully perform in a politically trying period when his freedom of movement was limited. She can also be seen offering very real assistance in pledging her dower properties repeatedly to ensure Edward’s best advantage.
What we also see is very powerful evidence of their mutual wish to be together. In the kind of life which Edward led over this period, it would have been very easy to leave Eleanor at home and travel without her. Yet Eleanor and Edward travelled together around Britain, and to Gascony and back repeatedly. It appears she passed up chances to meet her own family in order to remain with him. It also appears quite clear that everyone understood that Eleanor’s safety was the concern of her husband, not her mother-in-law – when Queen Eleanor arranged a mass evacuation of noble ladies in the run-up to the seizure of Dover Castle in late June 1263, Eleanor was not among those for whom the queen made provision. Nor did Eleanor accompany her mother-in-law when she herself departed in September for the Continent, where she remained until 1265. Rather it appears that Edward, on his return in 1263, settled Eleanor at Windsor, effectively as hostess to the garrison which he established there, and she was expected to stay there – near, but not at that stage within the range of any anticipated battles – and await his visits as the fortunes of war permitted. Just, indeed, as Ferdinand III had settled her own mother, and his first wife, near his campaigns. The adoption of the Castilian modus operandi again implies an active role for Eleanor in deciding this strategy.35
One further point which indicates very strongly the closeness of the relationship and the extent to which this closeness was common property is Edward’s action in using a wish to visit his wife as an excuse for making a break from London in 1263. This action is usually considered as an example of his slightly cavalier attitude to truth. However, when considered further, it actually becomes a very interesting revelation of the relationship. It was by no means common for husbands (even un-martial family men like Henry III) to give overt priority to wishes to see their wife or family. It is hard to think of another example of a prince, still less a prince later to be famed for his firmness, openly confessing to such a desire. Yet apparently Edward had no hesitation in deploying this reason. What is more, no one had any hesitation in accepting it as truth, and a truth unworthy of any particular remark. It follows, therefore, that the closeness of Edward and Eleanor had become a total ‘given’ for all those who knew them by 1263.
One other question about the relationship which necessarily comes to the fore is the question of sexual relations and children. Whether or not cohabitation was suspended for a period after the loss of the baby born in Gascony, one would expect it to have been resumed by the time Eleanor was eighteen in 1259, and very possibly before. If so, given her later fertility, where are the children? The earliest evidence of a named child is a daughter Katherine who was with Eleanor at Windsor in 1264, and who was described as an ‘infant’. It is likely that Katherine was either a reason or the reason why Edward’s old nurse Alice de Luton was with Eleanor in France in the summer of 1262. Given the travelling which Eleanor did in that summer and in July 1261 and February 1262, the most likely period for the birth of Katherine would be in either early or late 1261 while Edward and Eleanor were in Gascony. Parsons tentatively suggests 21 April 1261 for her birthdate, based on a difficult passage in one of the chronicles. However, this birthdate would involve Eleanor travelling to England when just about to give birth (she and Edward returned to England in April 1261) and hunting actively in her first trimester. Given her later active programme up to the birth of children this is a possibility, but at this early stage, with an heir not yet provided, it seems unlikely. I therefore incline to late 1261, and would tentatively place Katherine’s birth on the saints’ day of St Katherine of Alexandria on 25 November 1261 – this would also explain the use of the name, which had no strong family connotations on either side, other than its poignant association with Henry III’s deceased daughter. This also fits well with Eleanor and Edward’s remaining in Gascony for some weeks into 1262. Furthermore, a birth in Gascony would also account for the lack of any records of the birth in the English court accounts.36
Katherine can therefore be more or less accounted for. However, it is very possible that other children were born and died without trace in that period. A number of factors point to this conclusion. Assuming that full cohabitation resumed by 1259, and given that all the evidence suggests that Eleanor was able to conceive a child four years earlier, there would be no reason why she should not conceive. The pattern of her later pregnancies indicates that she conceived regularly at the rate of about two children every three years. In addition, as we have just noted, Edward and Eleanor were not apparently parted for long periods at this time. Accordingly, one would expect there to be some children – probably two or three – conceived during the period up to late 1263. However (also given the statistics of the later children), it might well be that one or more such children would be miscarried or not long survive.
The absence of any records of such children does not provide any particular indication that they did not exist – after all, there is no record of the birth of Katherine either. Further, the absence of any pregnancies would probably have been remarked upon – as it had been with Eleanor of Provence, who did not conceive until she had been married for several years. The absence of records of children other than Katherine indicates two things only. The first is that there was either no live birth of a boy or at least no live birth of a boy in England, as this would have been an event which the chroniclers would have noted. The second is that any children who survived to full term did not live long thereafter. There is certainly a possibility of the birth of a child in late 1262 or early 1263, while the couple were abroad. There may even be earlier children – in particular, the gift to Alice de Luton of lands in August 1260 may be in recognition of services at an earlier, unsuccessful lying in.37
However, by late 1263, with war arrived, we do know that Edward and Eleanor had started their family, with the birth of Katherine, probably in late 1261; and that Eleanor was at Windsor with the child and a substantial garrison and household, when Edward, his father and their allies arrived in October to make preparations for the second phase of the revolt – open warfare.
The last hope of peace was a mediation scheduled for Amiens in December, with Louis of France as mediator. In the run-up to this crucial hearing Henry struck at Montfort’s own interests, recruiting the most redoubtable of the Marcher lords, Roger Mortimer, to take three manors in Hertfordshire which had been previously granted to Montfort by Henry in relation to the dowry dispute. Whether this indicated a lack of faith in the outcome, or was an attempt to keep Montfort from the hearing, is unclear. However, Montfort was indeed unable to attend, although for an entirely different reason: he suffered a fall from his horse which resulted in a broken leg. With Montfort’s powerful personality and way with words in abeyance, the scale of lawlessness and destruction which the baronial cause had brought about weighed most powerfully with Louis. The baronial cause was rejected outright by him in the Mise of Amiens, and in particular he rejected the Provisions of Oxford in their entirety.38
Real war was now unavoidable. Montfort struck back against the royalist supporters at once, sending his sons to attack Mortimer’s own castles in concert with Llywelyn – with some success – Mortimer’s main castle at Wigmore (held by his family since 1075) was taken and his lordship of Radnor was ravaged. It seems likely that this attack also involved direct confrontation between the attackers and Mortimer’s wife, Maud de Braose, who, as lady of Radnor in her own right, and a descendant both of King John’s bête noire Maud de Braose and William Marshal, would be likely to be assertive in her own interests, and prone to resent insult. Certainly, in the longer term, this attack seems to have given rise to very unpleasant consequences for Montfort at the Battle of Evesham in 1265.39
Within weeks, the entire region was up in arms. Edward himself, moving to support Mortimer, came close to capture at the key town of Gloucester following an incursion into South Wales, Hay and Huntingdon but was saved by making a truce with Henry de Montfort – which he then disregarded once Henry was out of reach.
Meanwhile, Montfort’s position was strengthened by the rejection of Mise of Amiens by the Londoners and commonalty, as well as by Gloucester. It is perhaps worthy of note that much of the blame for the Mise was put at the door of Eleanor of Provence, who had been actively campaigning on the Continent and was the sister of Louis’ queen. Beyond a doubt, at this stage Eleanor of Provence had a good claim to be the most unpopular queen in the history of England.40
However, the royalist cause was managed well – one suspects by Edward rather than by Henry or Richard of Cornwall. Under cover of preparation for a campaign against Llywelyn, a gathering of royalist barons was called to Windsor in late February. This force then marched on 8 March to Oxford, the royalist headquarters up until the Battle of Lewes.41
Meanwhile, London had settled under baronial control, with Montfort and Despenser in residence preparing the citizens to defend the city and to attack their chosen targets. Among these was Richard of Cornwall’s manor of Isleworth, and properties of Pembroke and Philip Basset which were invaded by a mob led by baronial justiciar Hugh Despenser (Basset’s own son-in-law).
In early April the royalist army moved from Oxford to Northampton, where the baronial forces had their headquarters. The French prior of the Cluniac house of St Andrew, who was a royalist sympathiser, allowed Edward’s army to effect an entrance and take the baronial army by surprise. Numerous barons, including Simon de Montfort the younger and Peter de Montfort, were taken prisoner and subject to ransom. Edward saved Simon, his old tourneying friend, from royalist troops who would otherwise have killed him. Some of the prisoners were sent south to Windsor, where they were held, effectively in Eleanor’s custody. The town was then sacked and the army moved on for more of the same at Leicester and Nottingham.42
The news of this victory would probably have been accompanied by the news of the grant to Eleanor by Henry ‘at the Lord Edward’s instance’ of a manor at Ashford in the Peak – the first royal grant of lands to Eleanor since her dower assignment, and a thoughtful one as it was situated within the ambit of the castle and town of the Peak – the one remaining part of her dower which had not been granted elsewhere as a quid pro quo for the return of Edward’s supporters. This was a key point in Eleanor’s life – her first actual grant of lands, which meant her first acquisition of her own revenues. The grant was probably intended to assist in her maintenance while Edward and Henry were on campaign. But it seems possible that some of the revenues were immediately diverted by Eleanor to her pet interest – books. Either at about this point or in early 1270, she commissioned the production of the beautiful illustrated apocalypse known as the Douce Apocalypse, possibly inspired by a Castilian Beatus apocalypse which it is thought likely that she brought with her to England on her marriage. As with later commissions, her own interests and instructions are manifest – some of the earliest illustrations completed show the forces of the Beast prominently including Montfort – and Gloucester.43
Meanwhile, from Nottingham, the royalist army was forced south by news of the baronial attack on Rochester, which was being held by John de Warenne and Roger Leyburn. Having relieved the siege of the castle, Henry and Edward moved on to Lewes, arriving on 11 May 1264.
The baronial army had tracked them there, rendezvousing with Montfort. A last-ditch offer to settle was firmly rejected, Henry sending a letter of defiance, and Cornwall and Edward one of challenge – making clear that on their side at least no quarter would be given in the future: ‘From this time forth we will do our utmost to inflict injury upon your persons and possessions.’ Montfort withdrew his allegiance the next day, as did his supporters.44
All was now ready for battle, and on the next day – 14 May – the two sides, numbering perhaps 7,000 men each, met. From Eleanor’s perspective, the battle is significant in two respects. First, during the course of it Edward made a classic military blunder, pursuing the fleeing contingent of Londoners far from the field of battle. As Vegetius says, ‘He who rashly pursues a flying enemy with troops in disorder, seems inclined to resign that victory which he had before obtained.’ The truth of the maxim was amply proved by the event. When Edward returned some considerable time later, it was to find that the rest of the battle had taken a decidedly different course. Cornwall and Henry of Almain had been trapped in a mill on their right flank, and Henry III’s horse had been slain under him in the baronial charge.45
The second significant point is that the result (by a process which is extremely unclear in the sources) was that Henry was effectively trapped in a priory, and Edward went with his Marcher companions to join him – at the cost of his own liberty.
At close of play, therefore, Montfort had the following credit/debit balance. On the credit side, he had definitely won the battle, and he had Henry, Edward and the Marchers trapped in the priory and Richard of Cornwall in his custody. On the debit side, he could not storm the priory, and a siege was almost as morally undesirable, as well as carrying the risk of attracting other royalist troops to oppose him. Also on the debit side were his own hostages in Eleanor’s custody at Windsor – including his own son Simon, as well as those taken by Edward during the battle.46
The only way forward was compromise. Much of the night of 14–15 May was therefore spent in thrashing out a settlement, known as the Mise of Lewes. Montfort’s gains in the settlement were the really big ones – custody of Henry and Edward, and the subjection of Henry to a council which would rule on his behalf. However, what he had to let go was the Marchers – for him a horrendously risky concession, given that they were now implacably opposed to him. Also released were the Northern and Scottish lords – whose presence was needed to forestall incursions on the border. Once terms were agreed, Henry was brought by Montfort to London at the end of May to be the figurehead of the Montfortian regime, and Edward and Henry of Almain were transferred first to Dover and later to Wallingford, where Richard of Cornwall was also transferred.47
This marks the beginning of what must have been a truly terrible period for the twenty-two-year-old Eleanor. Edward’s capture was a disaster – Montfort was king in all but name and soon disregarded the provisions of the Mise of Lewes. Even historians with the perspective of hindsight tend to the view that Montfort seems to have regarded the Mise as no more than a ruse by which to get his hands on Edward and Henry, and this must certainly have seemed the case to the royalist faction at the time. This may well have been enough to raise suspicions, which gained credence as time passed, that he meant to move towards a formal claim to the crown. If he did so, Edward’s continued existence would undoubtedly have been regarded by him as a danger which must be avoided. Eleanor would therefore have had very real fears for Edward’s life. Certainly Henry seems to have considered that Edward was in danger; in one letter to Louis he speaks of his ‘inestimable peril’. Further, at the time when news came to her, Eleanor was approaching the end of the first trimester of her second recorded pregnancy – she expected to give birth around the end of the year, the baby apparently having been conceived just before Edward commenced the Northampton campaign in April. As it was, however, Eleanor faced the entirety of this pregnancy alone.48
To make matters still worse, Edward’s capture effectively left her all but destitute. Despite her notional dower assignment, she did not actually have the immediate right to any of this property or its revenues – these remained Edward’s and she was effectively granted by him an annual allowance equivalent to the value of her dower. However, once Edward was in captivity, his lands passed into Montfortian control. Thus her one source of revenue was the manor at Ashford in the Peak granted to her earlier in the year. Whether she was able to collect these revenues or not, it is plain that what she received in the next year was inadequate to her needs – Henry III had to pay for medicines for her, and she was driven to borrow money from the Montfortian justiciar Despenser in April 1265.
It has been suggested that Eleanor’s later behaviour in acting so assertively to acquire property can be traced to psychological scars caused by this period of poverty and powerlessness. This is probably a considerable exaggeration and oversimplification; Edward and Eleanor had been in financial difficulties ever since they married, and would continue to be so until her death. Furthermore, her later property acquisitions were not done entirely at her own instance, but as part of a concerted plan hatched with Edward. However, it is highly likely that the considerable financial difficulties of this period were never entirely expunged from Eleanor’s recollection.
Her immediate concern, however, would have been the terms of her husband’s captivity, and what her own actions should be. Once the terms of the Mise became clear, she would have understood that she held one of the major bargaining cards left to the royalist cause – the baronial prisoners. It was incumbent upon her, therefore, to hold them and Windsor as long as she could. This also appears to have been the instruction disseminated to other royalist strongholds, presumably via the released Marchers – Nottingham held out until December and Bristol (fortified by the Tonbridge garrison) until April 1265.49
Thus Eleanor remained at Windsor, faithful to her husband’s orders despite his capture, with her young daughter Katherine, and Pembroke’s pregnant wife Joan. Inevitably, as the senior person resident, she was also at least involved in the defence of the castle, which held out against the baronial forces for over a month after the defeat at Lewes, in order to maintain as strong a negotiating position as possible. However, in mid-June 1264 the castle was surrendered and she was ordered by Henry to leave Windsor, along with Joan. Further evidence of her active involvement in the defence for that month is suggested by the facts that the correspondence indicates that Henry and Edward left the castle specifically under her control, she refused to leave without a safe conduct and that, ultimately, she only went on positive orders from Henry, who promised to excuse her to Edward for her action: ‘the king undertakes to excuse her to Edward her lord’.
The flavour which emerges is that she regarded herself as Edward’s deputy in command of the castle under his orders – and that she had every intention of obeying those orders to the letter. As such, Eleanor acted very much in a small but significant tradition of militant English women: King Stephen’s wife, Matilda, who summoned and commanded troops while he was captive; Nicola de la Haye, the defender of Lincoln Castle against Louis of France in 1217; and the two Mauds de Braose – the defender of Painscastle in 1198 and the current Lady Mortimer. One would, of course, expect nothing less of her father’s daughter, but it shows once more that Eleanor was prepared to stray far from the paradigm within which she, as a princess, would be expected to operate.50
Where Eleanor went from Windsor is unrecorded – very possibly to Canterbury initially, where Henry III was then being kept in genteel captivity, and thence to London, where Henry appears to have spent the remainder of the summer, a supposition supported by the fact that Henry paid her expenses in November and for medicines for her in January. Certainly she was kept within the scope of close baronial supervision, and this fact also suggests that the barons did regard her as being untrustworthy and a threat in and of herself – Joan of Pembroke was simply ordered to withdraw to a nearby religious house and await her delivery. In part, concern to keep her close will doubtless have been due to the rumours which were current that Eleanor of Provence was raising an army abroad and that this army included Castilians, ‘as Edward had taken to wife the sister of the King of that land’, along with any rumours which also seeped out that Eleanor of Provence had obtained funding from, among others, Enrique of Castile. However, this approach also reinforces the probability that Eleanor had indeed taken a noticeably active role in the defence of the castle – to move a pregnant princess, and her young child, and send her any distance in the middle of the year was a fairly shocking thing to do, particularly in the unhealthy summer months.51
Whether either of these factors in fact influenced events, we can obviously never know. However, what is certain is that by 5 September 1264 Katherine was dead, aged around twenty months. She was buried around the end of the month and Eleanor was in such financial distress that she had to borrow the money to pay for the funeral. Eleanor (and Edward when he came to know of it) would hardly have been human if she had not laid this death at the door of the barons, as yet another item to be brought into an eventual reckoning.52
Nor did matters improve. With Eleanor now also in the hands of the Montfortians, the effective resistance to Montfort was left to the Marchers, with backup from the Savoyards abroad. In October they duly obliged, the Marchers sacking Hereford and taking castles in the South West, while some of Edward’s knights attempted to free him from Wallingford. The latter aspect of the plan backfired spectacularly. As the would-be rescuers were held up in the inner bailey, Edward was seized by the guards, who threatened to hurl him from the castle on a mangonel. He was forced to order his friends to withdraw. Following this attempt, Edward and Henry of Almain were moved to the more secure Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire, and Montfort, in alliance with Llywelyn, caught the Marchers in a pincer movement, forcing them to submit by mid-December. The price for this season of rebellion was the exile of the Marchers to Ireland for a year, and the annexation by Montfort of Edward’s central lordship of Chester. Although notionally this deal was to involve Edward’s release, it is unlikely that anyone on the royalist side now thought that a true release would be on the cards.53
At this low point, Eleanor was preparing for her next confinement. Her daughter Joan (presumably named after her mother) was born very late in December 1264 or very early in January 1265, as can be seen from the fact that Eleanor’s churching was imminent on 3 February 1265. To add to the difficulties which Eleanor was already experiencing, it seems likely that the birth was not an easy one: medicines for Eleanor’s use were bought (by Henry) on 25 January 1265, nearly a month after the baby was born. Incidentally, the birthdate provides further cogent evidence of Edward and Eleanor’s devotion. The birth would indicate a conception date of early April – just days before Edward set off from Oxford for Northampton, and within the period when the royalist army was notionally stationed at Oxford. It therefore appears that Edward had sneaked off from camp to spend time with his wife in the last few days before the war finally began.54
Nothing had improved when Eleanor emerged from seclusion. In January, Montfort summoned a parliament to endorse the settlement of affairs following his defeat of the Marchers and to agree terms for a ‘release’ of Edward. Ironically, this parliament is celebrated as the first to which ordinary people were summoned, but it was at the time notable for the way in which Montfort utilised it to enrich himself and his family. He effectively annexed much of the vast wealth of Richard of Cornwall and took over a huge section of Edward’s lands, also effectively removing Eleanor’s sole property and means of support from her. He also took a further five royal castles as hostages for Edward’s good behaviour.
A settlement to enable Edward’s notional release was in place by March, and he was brought to London and officially handed over to the king in a grand ceremony at Westminster Hall on 11 March. The release, however, was a stage-managed farce. Edward remained in Montfort’s custody, and following the ceremony Montfort left London with both King Henry and Edward in his train. And ‘train’ it very much was: Montfort had by this stage acquired a huge retinue of armed knights who formed his household – a greater number than was ever maintained by Edward as king.55
It is possible that Eleanor and Edward may have seen each other at this time – Eleanor had thus far been largely kept with Henry III, who had been brought to London to seal the deal, and it appears that she was at Westminster in January 1265 when she interceded with Henry to gain an exemption from jury service for a petitioner. Moreover, the agreement reached does seem to have had some regard for Eleanor’s financial position. On 20 and 29 March, she was granted the revenues of three manors via a wardship of Cecily, daughter of William de Fortibus – one in Cambridgeshire, one in Somerset and one in Surrey. But certainly Eleanor will not have joined the Montfort party when they moved off; it was effectively a campaigning party. Therefore, if there was a meeting it was a brief one.56
Thereafter, it rapidly became apparent that Montfort did not intend Edward to be free in any real sense and that Edward and Eleanor’s position was not actually improved by the March agreement. Edward’s captivity was simply on a different footing, and Eleanor remained in genteel custody. Financially, she was even worse off than before – having lost the manor of Ashford in the March deal, her new grants were almost immediately seized by Gloucester and others. This left her completely destitute, and she was forced to borrow £40 for expenses from Hugh Despenser, Montfort’s justiciar, in April.
It may be this step which caused Montfort to make some further provision for Eleanor: on 30 April she was granted the manor and hundred of Somerton, to be held at farm. It is ironic that this holding, which came to her at such a low point, was to be a key piece in her property acquisitions. But that may not be unrelated to the fact that Somerton was close to land held by her Fiennes relatives, who could, in the early years, help her to run it. It is tempting to speculate, therefore, that they suggested it to her, and she petitioned for it.
But until its revenues came in she was still penniless. It appears very possible that she was at this point driven to that well-known expedient of distressed well-to-do ladies – borrowing from her own tradesmen, notably her tailor. In the years just after the Barons’ War, Eleanor was to put two pieces of land the way of her tailor, William, and to refer specifically, in petitioning Henry III for the land (itself a rarity), to the services William had performed for her.57
But events were beginning to turn. Gilbert de Clare had been annoyed by Montfort’s failure to grant him sufficient recognition after Lewes, and the wealth and influence which Montfort acquired for himself and his sons was a further considerable vexation. Gloucester withdrew from court and retreated to the Welsh Marches, where an alliance was hatched with the royal party abroad, leading to two major events. The first was the landing of a royalist force in Pembrokeshire in mid-May, which drew Montfort (carrying Edward and Henry with him) off to Hereford to deal with the invasion. The second was Edward’s escape.58
The escape, as it is described in the chroniclers, reads like a piece of theatre. The tale goes that, towards the end of May, Edward was permitted by Montfort to receive a number of visitors, including Clifford, Leyburn and Gloucester’s brother Thomas de Clare. On 28 May 1265, Thomas and Edward, accompanied by guards, rode out to exercise their horses. Each horse (including those of the guards) was exercised thoroughly, under the pretence of a debate about which was the fastest – until only one remained fresh. At this point, Edward leapt upon the one fresh animal and galloped away, calling back a mocking message to his guards and a promise to return and release his father soon. Outside the woods, he met Mortimer by appointment and went with him to Gloucester at Ludlow, where a deal was struck for Gloucester’s support.
The balance of power had now shifted emphatically in favour of the royalist party. In June Edward seized control of the River Severn, trapping Montfort. By the beginning of August, Simon de Montfort the younger had brought troops, destined to come to his father’s aid, as far as Kenilworth.59
The fate of the Barons’ War now turned on two facts. The first is that Simon the younger appears to have lacked his father’s military sense – he permitted his army to camp outside the near-invulnerable walls of Kenilworth, rather than retreating within it. In the heat of August his decision was understandable, but it was nonetheless a mistake since Kenilworth was only thirty-five miles away from Edward at Worcester. The second fact was that Edward appears to have employed a good intelligence service, who rapidly brought news of this error to him.
Edward did not hesitate to capitalise on the slip. He took a cavalry force by an overnight march to Kenilworth, where he surprised the sleeping Montfortian relief force. A few (including Simon the younger) escaped into the castle, but many were captured and brought back to Worcester on the afternoon of 2 August – as were the army’s battle standards.60
Meanwhile, Montfort had crossed the Severn. Believing his son’s army to be more or less intact and on its way to join him, he made at once for Evesham on the evening of 3 August. Almost immediately their hopes appeared to be answered – the banners of the Montfortians were spotted. But within minutes it became apparent that these banners were actually being deployed by Edward’s army, who had quietly followed them to Evesham through the night and who now commanded the heights above the town, while Montfort was trapped in the valley against the river.61
It is plain that the Montfortians knew that all really was lost this time. In the scant time available before the battle commenced, Montfort and his knights were shriven as if in the last rites. They knew well that the normal courtesies of warfare had been declared suspended by Edward – no quarter was to be given, and no surrenders for ransom would be accepted. More, so far as Montfort was concerned, in an unprecedented step, Edward had appointed a hit squad of twelve knights whose task was simple: to ensure that Montfort did not leave the field alive.62
On this occasion, the Montfortians did not buck the odds stacked against them. The battle was a bloody slaughter – at least thirty Montfortian knights died on the field, including Henry de Montfort, struck down in the first charge. Also dead on the field were Hugh Despenser and the Earl of Hereford’s heir. Finally, Montfort himself fell to his nemesis Roger Mortimer. While other blades contributed to his death, Mortimer’s was the blade that struck the first blow, and it was apparently he who took the lead in the desecration of the body which followed, cutting off Montfort’s head and genitals and stuffing the latter into his mouth. The adorned head was then paraded on a pike (where it was seen by young Simon de Montfort as he arrived late at the battle) before being despatched off to Wigmore Castle as a gift to Mortimer’s wife, Maud de Braose. It appears that, in the light of her warlike Marcher ancestry and Montfort’s raids on Mortimer and de Braose territory, Mortimer was entirely confident that his wife would take this thoughtful gift in the right spirit. The skull was indeed cherished at Wigmore Castle for many years.63
So, by the time night fell on 4 August 1265, the Barons’ War was effectively over, and the royalists had won. Henry was notionally back in power, but since Edward had just established his credentials as an accomplished and ruthless military leader, there can be no doubt that he was now regarded not merely as ‘the Lord Edward’ but as a king in waiting.
And thus, overnight, Eleanor’s fortunes turned. On the morning of 4 August, she was a penniless captive. By evening, she was queen in waiting.