The Courts of Love: The Story of Eleanor of Aquitaine Read Online Free PDF Page A

wise thing to do.
    My father was a strange man. He had certainly been impressed by Bernard. He had come back subdued, and remained so for a whole week.
    One evening, when we were in the great hall, my father sat listening to the singing with a brooding look in his eyes. I was beside him as I often was at this time. The lute-player was singing a love song about a lady who bore a strong resemblance to myself. Petronilla was at my side listening intently.
    Then my father spoke. He said quite softly so that only I heard him: “A plague on these reformers. I’ll have my own way. I’ll not be led by them.”
    I said: “Do you speak of Bernard?”
    He said in a loud voice: “I speak of all who would seek to rule me. This is my land and I am the master of it.”
    The next day he rode with a party to Montierneuf and smashed the altar on which Bernard had said Mass, and he declared that all those who supported Innocent should be driven from his kingdom.
             
    I was beginning to learn that my father was not the great ruler I had thought him to be; nor, I supposed, had my grandfather been. Neither of them had had any great success in battle; both were men who followed their own desires to such an extent that they could not see any other point of view. My grandfather had died excommunicated from the Church—and the Church was a force to reckon with. Because of his colorful personality, he had won the affection of his people; my father did not have that.
    It is all very well for a ruler to be strong; that he must be. But when the forces against him are so great that they are superior in every way, he should reconsider his position and avoid unnecessary danger. My father was a stubborn man. If he found himself on the wrong path, his pride would not allow him to retrace his steps. He must go on. Only a miracle could change him. Who would have thought that a miracle was possible?
    Bernard must have had some spiritual power. I would not have believed it could happen any more than my father did; but both of us were forced in the end to believe what was an actual fact.
    It was hardly likely that my father’s intransigence would be allowed to pass.
    Bernard of Clairvaux was not accustomed to being flouted. He had preached to my father; he had persuaded him; he had, he believed, led him out of his evil ways—and as soon as Bernard had gone my father reverted to them!
    Bernard came once more to Poitou to see him.
    Although my father refused to see him, that did not deter Bernard. He remained in Poitou, visiting the town, preaching to the people. Wherever he went there were crowds. He was a later Jesus Christ—and I believe that was how he saw himself. People fell down and worshipped him; they declared themselves enemies of sin and the Devil forever more.
    And my father still refused to admit him to the palace.
    When Bernard arrived in Poitiers and preached in the square, people came from miles around to beg for his blessing.
    My father could not allow him to use his city, his church. He rode into the town to see what was happening. I do not know what he intended to do. I was afraid that in his stubborn recklessness he would seek open conflict with Bernard; and I could guess what the outcome of that might be.
    When he arrived in the center of the town, Bernard was already in the church celebrating Mass. The crowd outside was great, for the church was not big enough to hold all the people. My father pushed his way through the press of people and stood at the door of the church. I can imagine the silence. Bernard was holding the Host and when he saw my father, still carrying the Host, he walked slowly down the aisle toward him. I could imagine my father, choking with anger, because this man who had come into his territory was acting as though he owned it. So great would his anger have been that he drew his sword. Nearer and nearer to each other came the two men. My father, sword in hand, and Bernard holding the Host. It must