On the trail of love

In the final days of November 1290, one of England’s most formidable queens, Eleanor of Castile – a woman who survived civil war, a crusade, built a property empire, navigated the political machinations of European politics, and gave birth some 16 times – became dramatically ill. Too weak to travel, she took refuge in a manor house in the village of Harby, Nottinghamshire. Despite medicine and prayers, over the following days her condition worsened, until it became clear the Queen would not leave the manor house alive. 

On 28th November, ‘Decessus Regine’ was recorded in the household account: ‘The Queen died’. Eleanor’s body was taken to nearby Lincoln, where it was embalmed, and her internal organs buried in a visceral tomb in Lincoln Cathedral.  

Then, in December 1290, her body was carried on the road south to London, and honoured with ‘great devotion, with services and holy vigils’. Eleanor’s funeral took place in Westminster Abbey on 17th December. She was later buried in a magnificent tomb beside the Shrine of St Edward the Confessor.

Her husband, the ‘great and terrible’ King Edward I, was beside himself with grief. Their marriage spanned 36 years and, since his teenage years, Eleanor had been his loyal companion and confidante – only leaving his side when it was absolutely necessary.

Together they had travelled across Europe, fought in the Holy Land and been crowned king and queen in Westminster Abbey. They’d cherished the delights of parenthood and comforted one another as they endured dark anguish, as many of those children died at a young age. 

In the weeks after Eleanor’s death – and without Eleanor for the first time in his adult life – Edward withdrew into isolation. On 4th January 1291 he sent a letter to the Abbot of Cluny, writing the immortal words of his late wife: ‘whom in life we dearly cherished, and whom in death we cannot cease to love’. 

Following this, Edward set out to commemorate Eleanor, and the funerary journey, with an extraordinary gesture. In the 1290s, 12 glorious stone monuments – ‘the Eleanor Crosses’ – were erected at each town where the procession stopped. The final cross was located in the London hamlet of Charing (derived from the Old English word ‘cierring’ – meaning ‘river bend’ – of the Thames), which gives us the name Charing Cross. 

Curious to uncover the secrets of these forgotten monuments of love, and the woman who inspired them, in 2024 I embarked on an audacious challenge. On the corresponding dates of the original journey, I walked the route of the medieval cortège.  

Natural wonders

It was a gruelling task, starting at 6am and often covering over 20 miles a day. But the endeavour was worth it. I was treated to the surprising delights of Lincoln, Grantham, Stamford, Geddington, Northampton, Stony Stratford, Woburn, Dunstable, St Albans, Waltham Cross and London, where two crosses were built – Cheapside Cross and Charing Cross. 

Taking almost half a million steps through towns, villages, countryside and cities, there were manifold treasures to behold. One moment, beautiful rolling countryside with no-one around. The next, suburbs, parks, a medieval church, a brand-new railway station, a motorway crossing. Sometimes, the days were marked by glorious sunshine. On other days it was quite different – in Northamptonshire I was buffeted about by the high winds of Storm Darragh.

It was only by walking, by travelling at the natural human pace, that small, surprising details – a tombstone, an information sign hidden in the reeds, the strange clank of a gate, the December sun emerging across the dawn horizon – began to jump out at me.  

Three crosses survive today, standing tall in Geddington, Northampton and Waltham Cross. Each is slightly different, but all contain statues of Eleanor and bear her coat of arms.  

My journey came to an end on 17th December – the day of Eleanor’s funeral – when I was welcomed to Westminster Abbey by the Dean, the Very Reverend Dr David Hoyle. As I followed him through the church, we stopped to admire the wonders of the Cosmati pavement, just as Eleanor might have done when at the Abbey all those centuries before.

While doing so, in a surreal moment, I glanced up to see a painting of King Edward, magnificently depicted in rich colour and pointing to his right, gesturing to the entrance to the Confessor’s Chapel.  

Then, I prepared to come face to face with Eleanor herself. After 200 miles of muddy footpaths and icy pavements, I entered the little chapel, passing the sacred tomb of St Edward and finally laying eyes on the effigy of Eleanor, glimmering in the December sunlight. I lit a candle; the Dean said a prayer of blessing. It was a wonderful end to this historic walk. 

But the events of the 1290s were only the start of the Eleanor Crosses story – a legacy of survival, destruction and reincarnation, pushed and pulled by the ebb and flow of time. Over the medieval period, the crosses stood tall and proud.

Cheapside Cross became the backdrop for parades and processions through London – the red carpet of the city where a ‘goodly company of lords, knights and gentlemen’ could be spied by eagle-eyed onlookers. During the turbulent years of Reformation and Civil War, the crosses provoked ire as potent symbols of Catholicism and monarchy, and several were destroyed. 

Revival of interest

Charing Cross had been a guiding marker for over three centuries and Londoners found themselves feeling lost when it was pulled down in 1647. By the 19th century, most of the crosses had disappeared. But with a revived interest in the medieval world, they inspired a new wave of design. A major figure in this was the architect George Gilbert Scott, who reimagined the Eleanor Crosses to produce the Martyrs’ Memorial in Oxford in 1843. 

As I walked from Lincoln to London, I was delighted to follow a trail of Eleanor clues – where the crosses have been commemorated in surprising ways. At Stamford, I discovered an enormous, pointed needle – a modern interpretation of its 13th century forebear. In Stony Stratford, the entire gable end of a building was adorned with a magnificent mural, created in 2019.

In Dunstable, in the Queen Eleanor Shopping Precinct, I found a bronze statue of Eleanor installed in 1985. At Charing Cross tube station, there was a 70-metre mural of the medieval craftsmen. In Northampton was a less romantic offering: ‘The Queen Eleanor Interchange’.  

Though the Eleanor Crosses may be cold and inanimate in their physical form, these blocks of stone tell a story of life – of people doing extraordinary things. Their legacy was often marked by upheaval and destruction; but it is also one of brilliant creativity, uplifting beauty and a love to last the ages.

Eleanor of Castile’s tomb

The tomb of Eleanor of Castile is a wonderful surviving example of medieval craftsmanship, located in the Confessor’s Chapel. It is an enormous stone chest, three metres long, adorned with an arch-and-gable motif and shields of Eleanor’s pedigree.

Atop the stone chest is a gilt bronze effigy, cast in 1291 by William Torel – the goldsmith Eleanor may have visited not long before she died. This effigy is the best surviving contemporary image we have of Eleanor. Here she lies, meditative and thoughtful, and dressed in flowing robes.

Her right hand (which would once have held a sceptre) rests beside her. The left hand is raised over her chest, pulling at the cord of her mantle. Her head rests on pillows with a personalised diamond pattern of alternating castles and lions – the symbols of Castile and Leon, the land of her birth, with her forever in death.

Alice Loxton (@history_alice) is a history broadcaster and author with over 3 million followers on social media. Her book, Eleanor: A 200-Mile Walk in Search of England’s Lost Queen, is out now.