The Prince of Darkness (40 page)

The child was christened Henry after his grandfather Henry II and there was general rejoicing, many expressing the hope that the baby would resemble the King whose name he shared, commenting that they could hardly have expressed such sentiments if he had had his father’s name.

His birth had subtly changed the relationship between his parents. Isabella had quickly regained her good looks and her main attraction would always be that inherent sexuality which had been apparent when she was a child and would remain with her until her death, but the pregnancy and the birth had sent John elsewhere and he continued to roam.

Isabella was for a while absorbed by the child and as she
realised the satisfaction of motherhood, she decided that there must be more children; little Henry needed a brother or sister and it was always wise for a king to have several children.

After the stormy interview with the bishops, John guessed the Pope’s answer would not be long in coming. He was right. Just before Easter of the following year the interdict was pronounced from Rome and it was to cover England and Wales.

This meant that there was to be no public worship in churches, and sacraments were not permitted to be administered. Services could be preached – but only on Sundays – and not in church for the church doors must be kept closed. They must take place in the graveyards. Women had to be churched in the porch of the church and there were no burial services nor could any person be buried in consecrated ground.

This caused a great deal of distress among the people who feared that this final shame of being buried in a trench might impair their hopes of a heavenly reception.

Aware of the murmurings of the people against him for having incurred this quarrel with the Pope, John’s determination to fight the enemy increased.

‘The Pope has taken from my people their rights to religious consolation,’ he cried. ‘Very well, I will show the Pope what I can do to his servants. Any priest who closes his church to the people will forthwith lose his possessions, for I will not allow him to have them when he turns his face against the needs of the people.’

The priests were in a quandary. What should they do? Lose their goods or as they thought their souls? Many of them decided against their goods, much to John’s amusement.

‘By God’s hands,’ he declared, ‘this interdict makes me
grow rich. I am not sure that I should not be grateful to Master Innocent after all.’

The clergy were in trouble whichever way they turned. If they obeyed the Pope they lost their possessions to the King; if they refused to obey the Pope they were excommunicated. Many of them, including the three bishops who had warned the King, fled the country.

‘Let them go,’ screamed the King. ‘As long as they leave their goods behind them, why should I care? I hope Innocent realises how he is enriching me.’

He began to cast about for means of gaining more from the situation. He knew very well that some of the rich churchmen kept their secret mistresses and it appealed to John’s sense of humour to extract money through them. He sent his men throughout the country to spy out the secret amorous lives of these outwardly moral churchmen. When a mistress was discovered John arranged that she should be kidnapped. He then sent messengers to the churchmen telling them how much would be paid in fines for the return of their mistresses.

This caused the King a great deal of amusement and in spite of the Interdict he was enjoying life.

He had a healthy son who was almost a year old and Isabella had become pregnant again.

Her second son was born at Winchester a little more than a year after Henry had appeared, so now she had two healthy sons, as though to make up for the unproductive years.

Little Henry was proving to be quite bright and a source of interest and she found that she liked to be with her children. The second boy was named after his uncle, Richard Cœur de Lion, which pleased the people and the two little boys did much to add to the popularity of the King and Queen.

They were not very often in each other’s company and Isabella was well aware that he had mistresses. She was not going to accept that without some protest, but as she did not particularly wish for his company she decided against bringing the matter up with him.

She found herself looking round and admiring some of the more handsome young men; they looked at her with fearful longing, no doubt aware of the invitation in her glances and dreaming of the excitements they could share with her, while at the same time they must consider the terrible consequences of being discovered by an irate husband – and such a powerful one.

Danger added to the excitement and Isabella knew that it was in time to become irresistible. She too thought of the consequences. Suppose such an encounter resulted in a child, would it be so important? She had two sons who were undoubtedly John’s. John had had a number of bastards, but that was before their marriage. There may have been others later of whom she had not heard, but for the first years of their marriage he had undoubtedly been faithful to her. No man could have been more zealous in his attentions and he had had neither time nor inclination to disport himself elsewhere.

But now there was change. Some wives might have thought it necessary to act with especial care, to placate him, to play the humble wife. But that was not Isabella’s nature. Her power was still there, as potent as it was when she was thirteen – more so, for now she was so very experienced, and no man could be in her presence without being deeply affected by her; there could have been very few whom she could not move to desire with very little effort. As for the young and the lusty, they were ready to risk almost anything for her favours. Anything. Yes,
they had to consider that. She wondered what punishment John would think up for one of her lovers.

She played with the idea; her looks, her gestures were full of invitation. She wanted a lover who was prepared to take enormous risks for a brief spell with her.

The inevitable must happen. How thrilling it was! The secret meeting, letting him into her bedchamber, wondering all the time if anyone had seen. It was the most exciting adventure she had known for years.

Why had she been content with that ageing man of the violent temper when there were handsome young men who adored her and were ready to risk mutilation for her sake? Mutilation that would be the most terrible John’s warped mind could conceive, she was sure.

Life had a new spice for Isabella.

John was pleased with his swollen exchequer. The city of London was also pleased because the new bridge which had taken thirty-three years to build had now been completed. It was nine hundred and twenty-six feet long and forty feet wide and supported by twenty unequal arches. It was indeed a worthy sight and a great boon to the people. They were proud of it.

But even the citizens of London were ill at ease and they talked incessantly of the Interdict.

Burial in unconsecrated ground was but one cause for apprehension. To be denied the comfort the Church could offer was intolerable to a great many people, moreover, they feared the wrath of Heaven on the ungodly of which, if the doors of the Church had been closed upon them, it seemed
they must have become. If they had had to go to war, which was very likely, there would not have been a soldier in the army who would not have felt a great sense of uneasiness and have been convinced that God could not be on the side of men who were the victims of the Pope’s Interdict.

It was all very well to have defied Rome for a while but it should not continue. He decided therefore that if the monks of Canterbury returned to England he would allow them to do so and that he would be ready to meet Stephen Langton to discuss matters with him.

This was a step in the right direction, said the Pope, and it was arranged for Stephen Langton to come to England in the company of several of the exiled bishops. The Pope was adamant that if the Interdict was to be lifted John was to obey all the terms laid down by Rome and failing that His Holiness would have no alternative but to excommunicate John.

In due course the three bishops arrived with Stephen Langton. John met them at the coast and there was an immediate discussion between them.

John said that he would reinstate the monks; he would accept Stephen Langton as Archbishop but he would not receive him or show him favour.

The bishops replied that unless John conformed to all the Pope’s terms he would be excommunicated.

‘One clause of the agreement must be fulfilled,’ he was told, ‘and that is that you must return all the confiscated property to their rightful owners.’

The thought of losing all that he had gained and meekly giving in infuriated John.

‘Get you gone,’ he cried. ‘Tell Innocent to excommunicate me if he wishes. I care nothing for him nor his threats. I shall
keep what is mine and chief of my possessions is the right to rule the country of which I am King. Get back to your master before I am tempted to give you your deserts, you traitors.’

The party left without delay and the result was excommunication for the King of England.

As the effect of the excommunication began to be felt the King was mad with rage. It brought home more clearly than anything could have done the power of the Pope. That the land he ruled should be in such fear and trembling of a distant ruler infuriated him more than anything possibly could; and he looked about for victims on whom to vent his wrath.

The Pope’s edict decreed that all those who had contact with the King were themselves contaminated. Any who obeyed him were the enemies of Rome and would suffer accordingly. What were men to do?

When Jeffrey, Archdeacon of Norwich, stood up at the Exchequer Table at Westminster and declared that since the King was excommunicated the Church forbade any to act in his name, the King ordered his arrest.

Jeffrey was placed in a dungeon and John himself could not resist visiting him.

‘You served the wrong master, Jeffrey of Norwich,’ said John. ‘You should have thought twice before doing that.’

‘My conscience is clear,’ answered Jeffrey boldly.

‘Let me tell you this, you traitor to your King, you will not long have a conscience to be clear or otherwise.’

‘You cannot intimidate me into accepting what a greater Lord than you tells me is sinful.’

‘You must be on better terms with Him than you are with
me,’ said John. ‘Let us see how He will look after you in your emergency.’

He then left the cell and ordered that the Archdeacon should be laden with chains. ‘I want a cope of lead, a large and heavy one, and I order that it be crammed down over our pious Archdeacon’s head. Let it crush and suffocate him while he broods on his great virtues and his treachery to his King.’

This was done and men talked of it with awe.

All the bishops and friends of Stephen Langton were to be put into prison and their lands and goods confiscated.

‘These churchmen have done very well for themselves,’ said John. ‘And now they are doing very well for me. This excommunication like the Interdict has its uses.’

But there was in this a certain bravado because the people were turning against him. The barons had always been seeking a reason for revolt and they were very powerful; he feared them even more than he feared the Church.

If they were to turn against him now and ally themselves with the Church, his position might be very difficult. He decided therefore that he demand of the barons that each of them should send one of their sons to the King as a hostage. When the young men were in his power he could be sure of the fidelity of their parents.

While this order was being carried out John was making a progress through the country to assure himself that the people realised his power and that he himself was not deeply concerned over the excommunication.

Passing through the countryside he came upon a crowd of people beating before them a man whose hands were tied behind his back.

The King called: ‘What happens here? What is this man guilty of?’

‘He is a murderer, my lord. A thief as well,’ was the answer. ‘He waylaid a man on the road, robbed him and murdered him. He was caught in the act.’