# Cassell's Illustrated History of England/Volume 1/Chapter 54

CHAPTER LIV.
Continuation of the Reign of Henry III.—His Courtships—Marriage with Eleanor of Provence
During the years which preceded the marriage of Henry, much discontent prevailed in England on account of the heavy taxes which continued to be imposed, although the refractory barons were subdued and the mercenary troops dismissed.
The hostility of the king to the Great Charter, which he had so solemnly confirmed, excited the indignation of the people. The forest charter, for which the nation had paid one-fifteenth on all movables—a proof how eagerly they desired it—was scarcely more respected.
The marriage of Henry was negotiated no less than four times with as many different princesses, and as frequently broken off.
With the last of these ladies, Joanna, daughter of the Earl of Ponthieu, the treaty had proceeded so far that the Pope was applied to for a dispensation, the parties being fourth cousins, when the caprice of the intended bridegroom broke off the match.
His contract with the Lady Joanna appears to have been regarded by him with no more sense of honour than his oaths to maintain the charters had been; and we find him, even before his ambassadors had commenced proceedings at the court of Rome, writing to the Earl of Surrey, soliciting his kind offices in furthering a marriage with one of the daughters of his brother-in-law, Raymond, Earl of Provence.
This letter was written in June, and m July he dispatched instructions to his representatives at Rome, directing them to suspend all negotiations for the present, and at the same time commanding them to observe the most profound secrecy respecting it.
In the prosecution of this fifth project of marriage, Henry seems to have used every exertion to ensure success. He wrote letters" both to the father and mother of his new choice, and sent an embassy, consisting of the Prior of Harle, the Bishops of Ely and Hereford, and Robert de Sandford, master of the Temple, to solicit the hand of their second daughter, who, although only twelve years of age, was already celebrated on account of her extreme beauty.
The house with which the king now sought alliance was, undoubtedly, one of the most illustrious in Europe. Its remote ancestors were the Counts of Barcelona; but it was by Raymond Berenger, the first earl, or, as he is sometimes called, King of Provence, that the foundation of its greatness was laid.
After rendering himself celebrated both as a warrior and a statesman, he died in 1131, and his estates were now governed by his great-grandson, Raymond III.
Provence was distinguished very early for the honourable encouragement it gave to literature, especially the art of poetry; and so generally were her claims to superiority in this respect admitted, that Provençal became the popular term to distinguish the poetry of the langue d'oc from that of the langue d'vil.
Richly, if we may judge from its effects, did the Counts of Provence recompense the poets of their country; for so munificent were their gifts to the troubadours who sought their court at Axles, that they gradually became impoverished.
The poets have invented a singular legend to account for the subsequent wealth of Raymond. It was the least they could do to recompense him for his extravagant liberality in their favour; and a century later the legend found a place in that receptacle of religious tales and romances known as the "Gesta Romanorum."
When Raymond, driven to despair by the sight of his empty coffers, was puzzling his brains with schemes for refillng them, a pilgrim, "de fort bonne mine," says the Abbe de Ruffi, to whom we are indebted for the story, came to the palace on his return from a pilgrimage to St. James.
This stranger, after partaking the hospitality of the count for some days, inquired into the value of his lands, the state of his finances, and finally offered to free him from every difficulty in a short time, provided that he was placed in absolute superintendence of all his affairs. To this proposal Raymond readily acceded, and the unknown pilgrim was forthwith placed in supreme authority over the household. And well did the stranger perform his promise: ere long, Raymond ​was freed from his embarrassments, and in a few years his coffers overflowed with wealth. But now gratitude began to fade from the fickle mind of the count, and he listened to the suspicious hints of his servants; until, altogether forgetful of the great benefits he had received at the hands of the unknown pilgrim, he commanded him to render up his accounts. The pilgrim made no objection; he exhibited his statements, and proved the integrity of his conduct so fully, that even his bitterest enemies could not answer a word. He then resumed his staff, scrip, and mantle, and, in despite of every entreaty of the repentant count, disappeared. Long, strict, and minute search was made after him, but he was never heard of more.
The visit of this friendly pilgrim, we may suppose, was subsequently to Raymond's marriage of his daughter Eleanor, since Matthew Paris represents him as an "illustrious and valiant man; but, through continual wars, almost all he had had vanished from his treasury." The proposal, therefore, of the King of England was peculiarly grateful, both to Raymond and to his wife, Beatrix of Savoy, whose three brothers looked anxiously, even from the commencement of their niece's marriage treaty, to the broad lands and rich church preferment which they anticipated they should soon possess in wealthy but ill-governed England. It was, therefore, with eager joy that the proposal of Henry was accepted by the needy count; and with equally eager joy, judging from his haste, did the king transmit his instructions for the marriage articles. In these he assigns to Eleanor, as dower, "those cities, lands, and tenements, which it has been customary for other kings, our predecessors, to assign to other queens." He then proceeds to state, that if Isabel should survive him, and should have recovered her dower, "then his procurators shall assign to Eleanor these towns; Gloster, Cambridge, and Huntingdon, and the villages of Wych, Basingstoke, Andover, Chiltham, Gumester, Clynes, Kingston, Ospringe, and Ludingland, to hold meanwhile;" and after Isabel's death, Eleanor in that case taking the usual dower, these towns and lands should revert to the king. In respect to Eleanor's portion, which id stated to be 20,000 marks, he directs his embassy to agree with the count that the sum shall not be less than that promised; and in a subsequent instrument he grants full power to the procurators to receive it. In the secret instructions which immediately follow, Henry seems to have apprehended, that if he pressed the count for immediate payment of his daughter's portion, he might lose his fifth chance of obtaining a wife.
He therefore directs, that if his procurators cannot fulfil his commands to the very letter, they shall, "over and above every power contained in the aforesaid letters, without the payment of the money appropriated for us, in whatever way ye can, take her with you, and safely and securely bring her to us in England." The youthful princess was accordingly placed in the hands of the ambassadors, and, amidst the rejoicings of the whole kingdom of Provence, she set forth, accompanied by a gallant cavalcade, in which were more than three hundred ladies on horseback. Her route lay through Navarre and France.
A romantic trait, illustrating the chivalrous feeling of the age, is recorded by Matthew Paris. The poet king of Navarre, Thibaut VII., whose songs are still remembered in the land over which he reigned, no sooner heard that the daughter of the minstrel-loving Raymond was to pass through his dominions, than he gallantly summoned a goodly array of men-at-arms, and joyfully made ready to accompany her for five days through his lands, defraying every expense, both for horses and men, although the royal train amounted to many hundreds.
When Eleanor arrived on the frontier of France, she received a hospitable welcome from the queen dowager and her son, who a short time previously had married an elder sister of the bride. The marriage train finally reached Dover, from whence it proceeded to Canterbury, where Henry awaited their coming. It was in that ancient city that the union took place, the service being performed by the Archbishop Edmund and the prelates who accompanied Eleanor. From Canterbury the newly-wedded pair set out for London, attended by a splendid array of nobles, prelates, knights, and ladies. On the 20th of January, being the feast of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian, Eleanor was crowned at Westminster with great splendour.
The historian Matthew Paris describes, not only the gallant array of the royal procession, but the gorgeous appearance which, even at that early period, was made by the city of London, with a minuteness which entitles him to the gratitude of every lover of antiquity:—
"There had assembled together so great a number of the nobility of both sexes, so great a number of the religious orders, so great a concourse of the populace, and so great a variety of players, that London could scarcely contain them in her capacious bosom. Therefore was the city adorned with silk hangings, and with banners, crowns, palls, tapera, and lamps, and with certain marvellous ingenuities and devices; all the streets being cleaned from dirt, mud, sticks, and everything offensive.
"The citizens of London going to meet the king and queen, ornamented and trapped and wondrously sported their swift horses; and on the same day they went from the city to Westminster, that they might discharge the service of butler to the king in his coronation, which ia acknowledged to belong to them of ancient right.
"They went in well marshalled array, adorned in silken vestments, wrapped in gold-woven mantles, with fancifully devised garments, sitting on valuable horses, refulgent with new bits and saddles: and they bore three hundred and sixty gold and silver cups, the king's trumpeters going before and sounding their trumpets; so that so wonderful a novelty produced a laudable astonishment in the spectators."
The worthy monk of St. Albans dilates with great gusto upon the splendour of the feast, and the order of the service of the different vassals of the crown, many of whom are called upon at a coronation to perform certain peculiar services down to the present day. He also remarks, with great complacency, that the abbot of his own convent took precedence of every other abbot in England at the dinner.
The following further and probably more accurate account is extracted from the city records. They are deeply interesting, as offering the earliest account of the ceremonies used at the coronation of a queen consort of England.
"In the twentieth year of the reign of King Henry, son of King John, Queen Eleanor, daughter of the Earl of Provence, was crowned at Westminster, on the Sunday before the Purification, the king wearing his crown, and the bishops assisting. And these served in order in that most elegant and unheard-of feast:—The Bishop of Chichester, the chancellor, with the cup of precious stones, which was ​one of the ancient regalia of the king, clothed in his pontificals, preceded the king, who was clad in royal attire, and wearing the crown. Hugh de Pateshall walked before with the patine, clothed in a dalmatica; and the Earls of Chester, Lincoln, and Warren, bearing the swords, preceded him. But the two renowned knights. Sir Richard Siward and Sir Nicholas de Molis, carried the two royal sceptres before the king; and the square purple cloth of silk, which was supported upon four silver lances, with four little bells of silver gilt, held over the king wherever he walked, was carried by the barons of the cinque ports; four being assigned to each lance, from the diversity of ports, that one port should not seem to be preferred before the other. The same in like manner bore a cloth of silk over the queen, walking behind the king, which said cloths they claimed to be theirs by right, and obtained them. And William de Beauchamp of Bedford, who had the office of almoner from times of old, found the striped cloth or burel, which was laid down under the king's feet as he went from the hall as far as the pulpit of the church of Westminster; and that part of the cloth that was within the church always fell to the seston, in whatever church the king was crowned; and all that was without the church was distributed among the poor, by the hands of William the almoner.
Henry III.
"At the king's table, on the right hand of the king, sat the archbishops, bishops, and certain abbots, who wished to be privileged at table; and on the left hand sat the earls, and some barons, although very few; but none claimed their seats by any right. And on that day the office of seneschal was served by Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, to whom the office by right belonged; and the office of the napery was that day served by Henry of Hastings, whose right it was of old to serve.
"Walter de Beauchamp, of Hammerlegh, laid the salt-cellar and the knives, and, after the banquet was at an end, received them as his fee.
"The Earl Warren served the office of butler in the stead of Hugh de Albiniac, Earl of Arundel; and under him was Michael Belot, whose right it was. as secondary, to hold the cup well replenished with wine to the Earl of Arundel, to be presented by that nobleman to the "king when he might require it. Andrew Benkera, who served the office of ​Mayor of London from 1231 to 1237, was at Westminster to serve in the butlery, with the 360 gold and silver cups, because the city of London is bold to be the assistant to the chief butler, as the city of Winchester is represented in the same way in the kitchen to assist the high steward.
Banquet at the Marriage of Henry III. and Eleanor of Provence.
"The mayor, it seems, claimed Michael Belot's place of standing before the king, but was repulsed by Henry, who decided that the former should serve him.
"After the banquet the earl butler had the king's cup as his fee, and his assistant the earl's robe as his right.
"William de Beauchamp that day served the office of almoner, and had entire jurisdiction relative to the disputes ​and offences of the poor and lepers: so that, if one leper struck another with a knife, he could adjudge him to be burnt.
"After the banquet was finished, he received, as his right, the silver dish for alms that stood before the king; and he claimed to have one tun of wine in right of alms; and on that day the great chamberlain served the water, as well before as after the banquet—namely, Hugh de Vere, Earl of Oxford; and he received, as his right, the basins and the towels wherewith he served. Gilbert, earl marshal. Earl of Strigul, served the office of the marshalsea; and it was his duty to appease tumults in the king's house, to give liveries to them, and to guard the entrances to the king's hall; and he received from every baron who was knighited by the king, and from every earl on that day, a palfrey with a saddle. The head cook of the royal kitchen always, at the coronation, received the steward's robe as his right; and of the aforesaid offices none claimed to themselves the right in the queen's house, except G. de Stamford, who said that he, in right of his predecessors, ought to be chamberlain to the queen, and door-keeper of her chamber on that day, which ho there obtained; and had, as his right, all the queen's furniture, as belonged to the office of chamberlain. . . . And the cloth which hung behind the king at table was claimed on the one side by the door-keepers, and on the other by the scullions, for themselves."
Such were the ceremonies which graced the marriage of Henry and Eleanor of Provence.
No sooner had the union been celebrated than the indignant father of Joanna of Ponthieu, feeling keenly the insult offered to his child, applied to the Roman Pontiff for his interference, well knowing that it was the only authority before which Henry bowed.
Fortunately for the newly-married pair, the Pope thought fit to take a very different view of his crowned vassal's falsehood. Gregory rejoiced to see him allied to a family which had given such unequivocal marks of attachment to the holy see. He therefore addressed a bull to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and another to the Prior of Beverley, expressing his approbation of the union, "seeing," as the document ran, "that the proposed marriage of the king and Joanna being within the fourth degree of consanguinity, the king could not, without injury to his fame and peril to his soul, be permitted to contract it."
The king found a party far more difficult to manage than the holy see in his barons; for having summoned a parliament to assemble at the Tower, they unanimously refuse to attend, alleging as a reason that, surrounded as the king was with foreign and inimical counsellors, they could not with safety trust themselves in so strong and well-garrisoned a fortress.
This excuse marks not only the great unpopularity of Henry, but the utter contempt into which his character for good faith had fallen. It was in vain that ho alternately threatened and remonstrated—the barons continued firm; and prudence prevailing over his self-will, he was obliged to yield the point, and, returning to his palace at Westminster, hold the parliament there.
Never did the Church of Rome proceed with so little prudence, show such an utter disregard of everything like justice, as during the reign of the obsequious Henry. The Pontiflf, not content with the enormous sums of money which, under various pretences, he had drained from the kingdom, had the modesty to demand that 300 Italians should be preferred to English benefices. In vain did the primate, Edmund Rich, Archbishop of Canterbury, protest against the iniquitous measure; his patriotism called forth the resentment both of the king and the Pope. Wearied with the contest, he retired at last, a voluntary exile, to Pontemac, where he died.
Never was a system calculated to alienate the affections of a people from the Church more perseveringly pursued than by the court of Rome; it was that of the leech draining the life-blood of the nation on which it had fastened. Men began to question an infallibility which manifested itself only in acts of injustice and oppression. In the universal condemnation of the grasping policy of the Pontiff, the seeds were sown which slowly but steadily ripened in the hearts of all who possessed the least sense of dignity and national independence.
Little, however, did Henry heed the growing disaffection of his subjects, exulting in the protection of the holy see, which found in him a vassal worthy of her pretensions. He fasted both during Lent and on every Saturday throughout the year, and feasted right royally both at Easter and Christmas; keeping the festival of St. Edward most religiously, passing the whole night in the church, clothed in white.
But these observances could neither fill his exhausted exchequer nor conciliate the goodwill of the nation. The people murmured, the nobles were loud in their complaints; but Henry pertinaciously adhered to his foreign counsellors, and invited over many of the queen's relations, on whom he conferred both estates and benefices. In 1243, we find in the "Foedera" a charter respecting Eleanor's dower, from which it appears that the appropriated dower of the Queens of England was not even at this period assigned her. In this she is assigned the town and castle of Gloucester, the cities of Worcester and Bath, the manors of Clyne and Chiltham and instead of the manors assigned by the first charter, the whole county of Chester, together with Newcastle-under-Lyme, is granted.
This year Eleanor's mother visited England, for the purpose of bringing Sonchia, her third daughter, who was affianced to the king's brother, Richard, Earl of Cornwall.
The marriage was celebrated with much splendour; that king directing that the whole way from London Bridge to Westminster should be hung with tapestry and other ornaments. This seems to prove that comparatively little vacant space could have extended between London and Westminster.
On this occasion Henry confirmed to his brother the county of Cornwall, together with the honours of Wallingford and Eye. He also made splendid presents to the bride and her mother; and bestowed on Peter of Savoy, the queen's maternal uncle, the honour of the Eagle, and the titles and estates of the Earl of Richmond, and on his brother the archbishopric of Canterbury.
But while Henry thus lavished gifts on his queen's relations, he duly, according to orthodox practice, mulcted the unfortunate Jews. During the same year writs were forwarded to the sheriffs of each county, directing them to return before Henry at Worcester, upon Quinquagesima Sunday, the names of six of the richest Jews from each ​large town, and two from every small one, "to treat with him for their mutual benefit."
What a mockery and scorn for the once chosen people of the earth!
This assembly, which has been called the Jews' parliament, soon discovered that the monarch's care for his own benefit absorbed all consideration for theirs. He informed them that they must raise him no less a sum than 20,000 marks, not less than £200,000 at the present value of money.
When the Jews expressed tseir astonishment at the enormous amount demanded, all liberty of remonstrance or discussion was denied them; they were told to return to their homes again, and have one-half of the sum required ready by Midsummer, and the remaining half by Michaelmas.
The account of this iniquitous act of oppression is taken from Dr. Tovey's "Judaica Anglia," and is but one of many instances of the cruel rapacity exorcised on this unfortunate race.
As, during the same year, Raymond, the queen's father, received a gratifcation of 4,000 marks, there is little doubt but a portion of the spoil obtained so dishonestly enabled the king to gratify the avarice of his father-in-law.
In his oppression of the Jews Henry resembled his father. On two occasions during his reign the absurd charge of crucifying a Christian child was brought against them; and so strongly were the superstitious feelings of the nation excited, that many of the richest Israelites fled, when, as a matter of course, the king seized all their property. In Lincoln eighty of the wealthiest Jews were hanged, and sixty-three sent prisoners to the Tower, to undergo a similar fate.
Several appear to have been marked out for particular spoliation. Aaron of York, whom Scott doubtless had in view when he wrote "Ivanhoe," declared to Matthew Paris that no less than 30,000 marks had been extorted from him in seven years, besides a gift of 200 to the queen.
Towards London the hostility of Henry was strongly marked, and on various "right royal" pretexts he grievously mulcted the citizens; while his cruel execution of Constantino Fitz-Arnulph, whose only crime seems to have been opposition to the overbearing conduct of the Abbot of Westminster, encouraged an equal hostility in the hearts of the citizens; and from henceforward they determinedly took their place in the ranks of the king's enemies.
The whole account may be seen in Stow; and when we read that this unfortunate citizen offered 15,000 marks for his life, we have strong proof of Henry's hatred to London, which could urge so mercenary and so needy a monarch to reject such a ransom.
Ere long, the citizens obtained a marked triumph. The king, reduced almost to beggary by the swarms of foreign adventurers who grew rich upon his bounty, was compelled to pledge the crown jewels. In vain did he offer them to wealthy noble, or rich Italian merchant; none could buy: it was the citizens of London who paid down the stipulated sum; and Henry saw the crown jewels pass into the hands of these, the most detested of his subjects.
Matthew Paris has left us a singular account of a ceremony which took place in 1247, when Henry received from the patriarch of Jerusalem a relic which he accepted with unquestioned faith. The gift consisted of a portion of the blood of Christ. On its arrival, the king commanded all the clergy of London and Westminster to attend with crosses, banners, and tapers at St. Paul's, where he himself repaired, and taking from the treasury the crystal vase which contained the supposed treasure, "with all honour, reverence, and fear, bore it upon its stand, walking on foot, in mean attire—that is to say, in a cloak made of coarse cloth, without a hood—to the church of Westminster.
"The pious monarch," continues the chronicler, "did not cease to carry it in both hands, through all the rugged and miry way, keeping his eyes constantly fixed upon it, or elevating it devoutly towards heaven." The scene was worthy of the actor and the superstitious credulity of the age in which it occurred.
Henry, however, had a canopy held over him, supported by four lances; and an attendant on either hand, guiding him by the arms, lest he should stumble. When he arrived at Westminster, he was met by the whole convent at the church door; but not even then did the king relinquish his precious burden: he went round the church, the chapels, and the adjoining court, and at length presented the vase and its contents "to God and the church of St. Peter." Mass was then sung; and the Bishop of Norwich, ascending the pulpit, delivered a sermon to the people, extolling the value of the relic, lauding the great devotion of the king, and anathematising all those who hinted doubts of its reality—a forcible proof that, even at this early day, our forefathers did not believe all that was told them. This memorable day was closed by the king's feasting sumptuously, and conferring knighthood on his half-brother, William de Valence; and the well-pleased monk of St. Albans, who was present, records the gratifying circumstance that Henry, seeing him, called him, and prayed him "expressly and fully to record all these things in a well-written book." Nor did this instance of royal condescension fail of its intended effect: the whole account is written in a strain of courtesy which contrasts curiously enough with the plain speaking of the rest of the volume; and these two pages stand out from the rest of the text like a laureate's birthday ode.