Read Online The Magnificent Century by Thomas B. Costain - Free Book Online
Authors: Thomas B. Costain
Ads: Link
control of national affairs into his clever and unscrupulous grasp.
Placing a hand on the King’s head, Peter des Roches declared that Henry was in his custody and would remain so.
This was a direct challenge. William the Marshal, understanding fully the ambitious plans of the bishop, summoned his dwindling strength to raise himself slightly on the couch.
“Not so, Sir Bishop,” he said. “The Lord Henry was placed in my care. Because the land had to be defended I delegated his custody to you.” A sudden twinge of pain caused him to pause. He thenturned to Pandulfo and said to him: “Go now and take the King with you. Tomorrow, if you will be good enough to return, I will tell you what I have decided; and may God guide my counsels aright.”
The decision at which he arrived was probably the wisest one under the circumstances. He did not make the mistake of giving the post to any of the active contenders for it, knowing the dissension which would have been caused. On the following day, when the same group had assembled about his couch, he raised himself with great difficulty on his side and addressed the legate. “I will commit my lord Henry into the hand of God,” he said, “and into the hand of the Pope—and into yours, you being here in the Pope’s stead.”
This solution had perhaps been expected. At any rate, there was no immediate discussion or opposition. With the greatest difficulty the marshal raised himself still higher and addressed himself to the King.
“Sire,” he said, speaking in a whisper, for his strength was beginning to fail him, “I pray the Lord God that He may grant you to be a brave and good man.”
“Amen,” piped up the boy.
The Bishop of Winchester now approached the King with the obvious intent of dissenting from the decision. The marshal cried sharply, “Let be, my lord bishop!” and motioned to his oldest son, who was present, to escort the boy to Pandulfo. Peter des Roches hesitated, then stepped back. He could afford to wait.
Committing the custody of the boy King to the legate meant that Pandulfo would assume political as well as spiritual control of the country during the remaining years of the minority, and many were inclined to look askance at this. He had been legate in John’s time and had conducted the negotiations which led to the translation of England into a fief of Rome. As a result, he had been regarded as a guileful and even diabolical character. This was not wholly deserved. He was a man of great ability and a careful administrator. The aging marshal had found him co-operative in every way in restoring the country to a peacetime basis.
Having settled this matter to his own satisfaction if not to that of all the ambitious and high-tempered men who made up the Council, the Good Knight composed himself to die. He called in each of his children and explained what he had done to provide for them. He set aside sums for the Church and for charity and for masses to be saidfor his soul. Then, his mind cleared of worldly responsibilities, he asked that his wife come to his couch.
The beautiful and gentle countess had been the wealthiest heiress in England and had brought him the lands and honors of Pembroke and Striguil as well as the enormous estates in Ireland which had been passed on in the Pembroke family from Strongbow. She had been a loving wife, content to stand by his side and to accept his will in all things; and her grief now was so great that she found it hard to retain any composure.
“My love, kiss me,” said the dying man. Then, his voice becoming less distinct, he added, “It will be for the last time.”
Later he roused and asked his faithful squire, John Earley, if he had seen the two strangers who had entered the room. He did not know, murmured the old man, who they were; but they were very tall and of a wonderful beauty, although somewhat shadowy. The company in the room, which was made up of the family and all the faithful men who had
Placing a hand on the King’s head, Peter des Roches declared that Henry was in his custody and would remain so.
This was a direct challenge. William the Marshal, understanding fully the ambitious plans of the bishop, summoned his dwindling strength to raise himself slightly on the couch.
“Not so, Sir Bishop,” he said. “The Lord Henry was placed in my care. Because the land had to be defended I delegated his custody to you.” A sudden twinge of pain caused him to pause. He thenturned to Pandulfo and said to him: “Go now and take the King with you. Tomorrow, if you will be good enough to return, I will tell you what I have decided; and may God guide my counsels aright.”
The decision at which he arrived was probably the wisest one under the circumstances. He did not make the mistake of giving the post to any of the active contenders for it, knowing the dissension which would have been caused. On the following day, when the same group had assembled about his couch, he raised himself with great difficulty on his side and addressed the legate. “I will commit my lord Henry into the hand of God,” he said, “and into the hand of the Pope—and into yours, you being here in the Pope’s stead.”
This solution had perhaps been expected. At any rate, there was no immediate discussion or opposition. With the greatest difficulty the marshal raised himself still higher and addressed himself to the King.
“Sire,” he said, speaking in a whisper, for his strength was beginning to fail him, “I pray the Lord God that He may grant you to be a brave and good man.”
“Amen,” piped up the boy.
The Bishop of Winchester now approached the King with the obvious intent of dissenting from the decision. The marshal cried sharply, “Let be, my lord bishop!” and motioned to his oldest son, who was present, to escort the boy to Pandulfo. Peter des Roches hesitated, then stepped back. He could afford to wait.
Committing the custody of the boy King to the legate meant that Pandulfo would assume political as well as spiritual control of the country during the remaining years of the minority, and many were inclined to look askance at this. He had been legate in John’s time and had conducted the negotiations which led to the translation of England into a fief of Rome. As a result, he had been regarded as a guileful and even diabolical character. This was not wholly deserved. He was a man of great ability and a careful administrator. The aging marshal had found him co-operative in every way in restoring the country to a peacetime basis.
Having settled this matter to his own satisfaction if not to that of all the ambitious and high-tempered men who made up the Council, the Good Knight composed himself to die. He called in each of his children and explained what he had done to provide for them. He set aside sums for the Church and for charity and for masses to be saidfor his soul. Then, his mind cleared of worldly responsibilities, he asked that his wife come to his couch.
The beautiful and gentle countess had been the wealthiest heiress in England and had brought him the lands and honors of Pembroke and Striguil as well as the enormous estates in Ireland which had been passed on in the Pembroke family from Strongbow. She had been a loving wife, content to stand by his side and to accept his will in all things; and her grief now was so great that she found it hard to retain any composure.
“My love, kiss me,” said the dying man. Then, his voice becoming less distinct, he added, “It will be for the last time.”
Later he roused and asked his faithful squire, John Earley, if he had seen the two strangers who had entered the room. He did not know, murmured the old man, who they were; but they were very tall and of a wonderful beauty, although somewhat shadowy. The company in the room, which was made up of the family and all the faithful men who had
Similar Books
