Philippa then rose from her chair and went down on her knees before the King.
‘My lord,’ she said, ‘I have crossed the sea in some peril to come to you and I have asked no favours of you. But now I ask one. For the love of our Lady’s Son and as proof of your love for me, have mercy on these six men.’
Edward looked at her intently; she began to weep silently and there was such unhappiness apparent in her attitude that he said gently: ‘Rise, Philippa. I would that you were not here this day. This town of Calais has cost me dear and I would have it known that there shall be no mercy for those who flout me.
‘My lord, if you love me,’ went on Philippa, ‘you will grant me this. It is all I ask. Give me this and I shall be content having such sign of your love for me.’
‘Do you need this sign, lady?’
She lifted her eyes to his and nodded.
He said: ‘You entreat me in such way that you make it impossible for me to refuse. I say this against my will. Take these men. I give them to you.’
A great silence fell on the crowd as Philippa kissed the King’s hand. Then she rose to her feet and going to the six brave men of Calais she ordered that the ropes be taken from their necks.
She signed to one of the guards and told him to take them to her apartments, where clothes and food should be given to them. She would like to make them a present too for she greatly admired their courage. Let them have six nobles apiece and then they should be allowed to go through the gates of Calais to their homes.
Everyone who had witnessed these scenes outside the walls and those within who were soon to hear of it, would talk of it for as long as they lived. The people of Calais would tell their children of the day the six brave burghers who had left with ropes about their necks going as they believed to certain death, came walking through the gates free men—all due to the goodness of Queen Philippa and her dreaded husband’s love for her.
Edward was not as displeased as he had appeared to be and was glad that the burghers had not been put to death. As soon as his rage had subsided he had begun to consider how he could best use his latest conquest.
It was certainly not going to be through cruelty.
Calais was worth every thing it had cost him and he was determined that it should remain in his hands. The burghers, after his clemency, inclined towards him for Philip had now shown himself to them very unfavourably when he had failed to relieve them.
He immediately ordered that food should be sent into the town and the people fed. In fact so ravenously did they fall upon the provisions he supplied that some of them died through overeating after coming to near to death by starvation. The burghers were ready to serve him now, for a King who showed mercy in conquest was a great King, it seemed to them.
Edward and Philippa rode through the town to fanfares of trumpets and the people came out to gaze on the lady whom they had come to revere.
Edward immediately set about making ready in case Philip should decide to attack the town in the hope of regaining it. He was pleased when a truce of nine months was arranged. So he garrisoned the town and confident that the people of Calais regarded him as a more reliable ruler than the French King, he sailed for England.
THE BLACK DEATH
ON their return to England Philippa gave birth once more. This time it was a boy whom they called William. Alas, it seemed an ill-fated name for the child died very soon after his birth.
Edward comforted Philippa and begged her to look to their strong and healthy children—Edward, Lionel, John and Edmund; and there were the dear girls—his beloved Isabella, Joanna, Mary and Margaret. They could not complain. It was true they had lost that other William and little Blanche, but God had blessed them in their children.
Philippa had to admit that this was true but while she delighted in her living children she could not stop mourning those whom she had lost.
Moreover there came a time when a queen must face the parting with her daughters. If Isabella had married Louis of Flanders she would have been not so very far away. But that had come to nothing and Philippa guessed that Edward was not displeased, and Isabella was only so because she thought that the manner in which Louis had decamped after he had seen her was a slur on her alluring attractions which her father had led her to believe were irresistible.
It was now Joanna’s turn. Poor Joanna. If Philippa could be said to have favourites among her children Joanna was the best loved among the girls. She could not help doting on her magnificent first-born and she shared the general delight which amounted almost to reverence in the Black Prince, but it was Joanna who had the deepest love. She had never forgotten the terrible time the child had endured in Austria. Ever since Philippa had been trying to make up to her for that.
Now, as Edward pointed out, it was time that she married and although he hated to lose his daughter he was irritated by the prevarication of the Spaniards.
The delay was, the King suspected, brought about by Eleanora de Guzman, the mistress of the King of Spain. She was the most powerful woman at the Court for the King doted on her and she had already borne him three children. Her great hope was that the King’s son Pedro—whom Edward had decided should be Joanna’s husband—would either die or not have children so that one of her sons could inherit. It was for this reason that she was far from eager to see a marriage between Joanna and Pedro and it was contriving to delay matters.
But even the powerful Eleanora could not prevent indefinitely the marriage of the King’s son.
The Joanna who prepared for her journey to Spain and marriage was different from the little girl who had gone to Austria. She was at this time in her fourteenth year and had known for some time that sooner or later she should have to leave home. She had seen Isabella return from Flanders and had heard the story of Louis’s hasty departure. And here was Isabella back in London. So marriages were not to be considered definite until they actually took place. Anything could happen to prevent them right at the last moment. She considered Isabella—only a week from taking her final vows!
In the meantime she must prepare herself for Spain.
Philippa was uneasy. She could imagine the intrigues of the Spanish court with the doting King and his mistress who wanted to see her son Henry of Trastamarre on the throne. She wondered how her Joanna would fare in such an atmosphere. Her children had lived a happy life which was rare in royal circles. She herself had enjoyed such a life in Hainault but how different Edward’s childhood had been! Sometimes she wondered whether a pleasant and secure childhood helped a child to face the world.
Perhaps she had not done so badly; but then she had married the man whom she loved on sight and Edward was a remarkable man; he was a good father although inclined to spoil his daughters; he was a loving husband although at times his eyes strayed to other women. But he was anxious to be a faithful husband and she believed that he was.
But now for Joanna. She must prepare to leave for Spain and Philippa prayed every night for the child’s happiness. She had heard uneasy rumours not only of the intrigues of Eleanora de Guzman but of signs of cruelty in young Pedro. It was said that he liked inflicting pain on animals and, if he could manage it, on his fellow human beings. Was it really true? One heard so much that was false. Oh yes, she prayed constantly for Joanna.
Joanna was resigned to the fact that she would soon be sailing. Isabella was a little jealous. With envy she fingered the robe of tissue of gold with matching mantle and sur-tunic which was for Joanna’s wedding. Isabella liked all the attention and the fine clothes to be for herself.
‘How fine you will look! ‘ she cried caressing the gowns of scarlet purple and velvet, the ermines and zones adorned with beautiful jewels. ‘But,’ she went on, ‘I would rather be at home. I am glad I didn’t marry into Flanders.’
‘I would rather be home too,’ said Joanna wistfully.
‘You will be a Queen though—Queen of Castile. Think of that ‘
But the thought did not give Joanna any great j
oy.
‘I never thought Louis of Flanders was good enough for me,’ went on Isabella. ‘I’ll swear that I shall have a king for a husband, one day.’
Joanna turned away and took up her embroidering. It gave her great comfort. As she stitched at it she revelled in the beautiful coloured silks and thought of the happy days she had had in the heart of her family.
In January she set out on her journey. The King, the Queen and her sister Isabella accompanied her from the Palace of Westminster as far as Mortlake. There they took a last farewell and both the King and Queen were overcome with their emotion. It seemed to the Queen that Isabella could always look after herself but Joanna was more vulnerable.
The Princess continued her journey across the country to Plymouth, the port from which she was to set sail.
There followed a stay of five weeks in the town, for the wind was such as to make the sea-crossing dangerous and it was the middle of March before Joanna and her entourage left England.
Seven days later she reached Bordeaux.
It was necessary to remain there while negotiations went on between the Courts of Spain and England, for Edward was very suspicious of a Court which was under the spell of such an ambitious woman as Eleanora de Guzman. So eager was she to prevent a child being born who could oust her son that she was using every means she knew to delay the marriage. She was trying to persuade Alfonso to choose a different bride for his son. On the other hand the Queen of Castile, who was as eager to outwit her husband’s mistress as the mistress was to put her own son on the throne, was anxious to bring about the union with England. Between the two Alfonso appeared to have no will of his own.
Edward was determined that Joanna should not go into Spain until everything was signed and sealed and there was no question of a marriage between his daughter and the heir to Castile being postponed or stopped altogether.
He had had one daughter jilted. He was not going to allow this to happen to another.
It was therefore necessary for Joanna to remain in Bordeaux until the King was perfectly satisfied that her marriage would take place.
The castle was set in very pleasant surroundings; from her windows Joanna could look out to wooded hills and vineyards and after the cold months in Plymouth and the sea-crossing she was not displeased to remain awhile in this pleasant spot. She would sit with her women while she worked with her needle and as she derived great pleasure from this occupation she was not unhappy.
If the negotiations took a year she would not mind. She was not by any means looking forward to continuing her journey.
So she and her women sat and talked and one day while they were at this pleasant pastime one of them said: ‘I heard yesterday that a terrible disease is spreading across Europe. It started in Constantinople and is quickly coming to the sea ports.’
‘There are always these stories,’ said Joanna placidly.
‘True my lady, but they did say that this is the most terrible that has ever been seen before.’
‘Strange things happen in far away places,’ said another.
‘I like this blue silk,’ said Joanna. ‘But perhaps it is not quite the right shade. What think you?’
The ladies put their heads together and concerned themselves with the selection of blue silk.
* * *
It was not long before the whole world was talking in terror of the fearful pestilence which had passed by way of Armenia into Asia Minor to Egypt and North Africa; this had started in the east and as it passed from country to country it left behind a trail of horror and death.
People talked of it in hushed whispers and prayed that it would never come their way but each day brought accounts of death creeping nearer. It had reached Greece and Italy and was still creeping on.
It seemed that once a man or woman noticed the first symptoms—a discoloured swelling beneath the armpits--he or she was doomed and only a miracle could save them. Those who were afflicted were not left long in doubt. In a matter of hours more swellings would occur and the victims would cough blood, suffer from violent thirst before they mercifully fell into a coma after which death quickly followed. The only merciful aspect in this dreaded pestilence was the speed with which victims died. It had an unpleasant aftermath for no sooner was the sufferer dead than black patches would appear on the skin and the odour which emanated from the corpse would be suffocatingly obnoxious. This in itself would pass on the infection. Animals died from it; it was highly infectious and devastatingly contagious. And as it became increasingly difficult to dispose of the bodies, the disease spread with alarming rapidity. Once it came to a village or a town that place was doomed.
The plague was talked of all over Europe, for the fact that it had reached Greece and Italy sobered many people.
Edward assured Philippa that it could not come to England. The water would save them. He was flushed with victory at this time. He had Helvoetsluys and Crécy behind him and now Calais. He could afford to sit back and contemplate his successes.
His love of display did not diminish as he grew older. He wanted more Round Table tournaments, more jousting in which he could show himself as the champion of his people.
There was nothing he loved more than to sit under the royal canopy with his Queen and their children and watch the jousting. Better still he liked to take part in it, and to show himself as the champion.
How they cheered him. His people loved him. The way had not been difficult for him. He had followed a king who had earned the revulsion of his people and his reign was not so long ago so that many of them could remember how a country suffered through an unworthy King. Even his grandfather Edward the First had never been quite so popular. This vain trait in Edward which made him long for splendid show and entertainments appealed to his people for they shared in them; and to see their King looking exactly as they believed a king should look and to have him winning great victories over the French pleased them. They were content with their Edward.
At this time, he told Philippa he was going to create an order which he would bestow on only a few knights who were worthy of it. The idea had been in his mind since the victory of Crécy when certain of his subjects had distinguished themselves by their selfless service to their country.
He believed there should be some recognition for such people and he was brooding on the matter.
Meanwhile there must be more tournaments, more Court festivities, to remind the people that all was going well with their King and country. His victories in France needed celebrating and he had been so long before Calais he should show his people how pleased he was to be home among them. He wanted to see gallant knights and beautiful ladies dancing together.
The most beautiful of all the ladies at Court was Joan, known as the Fair Maid of Kent.
She was now nineteen years of age at the height of her beauty. She was more or less betrothed to William Earl of Salisbury but was very friendly with Sir Thomas Holland and the Prince of Wales was clearly not indifferent to her. The Black Prince was two years younger than Joan but it was noted that although he seemed friendly with her he would ignore her for long periods of time and this did not please the Court’s leading beauty.
She was royal, her father having been the son of Edward the First, and although princes often had to marry into different countries to consolidate alliances, if the Black Prince had really wanted to marry his kinswoman it seemed hardly likely that Edward and Philippa—always indulgent where their children were concerned—would not have allowed the marriage to take place.
However there was no mention of it and the Black Prince, although he was clearly attracted by the beautiful Joan and often referred to her as ‘Little Jeanette’, did not show any sign of wishing to marry her. It was true he was only seventeen years of age but that was old enough to marry and rumour had it that he was not a virgin.
Joan was a clever girl as well as a beautiful one. She was greatly attracted by Thomas Holland who could offer her the least; she did not greatly care for Sal
isbury; and she liked the Prince of Wales. If the latter had suggested marriage she would have put aside the other two at once, for naturally she would have been delighted at the prospect of becoming the Queen of England in due course.
Everyone expected her to marry Salisbury as she had been contracted to him in her youth; but of course if the Prince of Wales wanted to marry her a dispensation could easily be acquired.
Courted as she was by the ardent Holland and Salisbury she was extremely put out by the indifferent conduct of the Prince. She was of a passionate nature and she quickly realized that she was not the sort to wait indefinitely in the hope of catching the big fish. She was a woman who would have to content herself with the lesser catch.
Thomas Holland had been with her in one of her moments of pique. He had declared his undying affection for her and embraced her in a most familiar manner to which it was quite obvious she was not averse. Indeed the dashing Thomas aroused in her emotions which for all her ambition she found it impossible to control.
It was unthinkable that a lady of her royalty should become his mistress so, having succumbed to him and found the experience very much to her liking, she had agreed to a secret marriage and when she came to Court to partake in the royal festivities she was in fact already married to Sir Thomas Holland.
Sir Thomas had been obliged to leave her soon after the ceremony to go to France and he was still there among those who were guarding Calais for the King.
Joan was therefore receiving the attentions of Salisbury and now and then catching the eye of the Prince of Wales who was so warm and friendly one day and the next seemed to have forgotten her existence.
The King had on several occasions asked her to sit beside him and it was becoming clear that he had great admiration for her. So had many others and she was used to admiration but she was certainly gratified to receive it from such a quarter.
The Vow on the Heron Page 30