by Jean Plaidy
‘Would you have loved Edward if he had been married before?’
‘I should have loved Edward whatever had happened to him,’ said Philippa vehemently.
‘Suppose he had had four daughters?’
‘I should have loved them as I did his sisters.’
‘I suppose daughters are different from sisters.’
‘It would have made no difference,’ declared Philippa. ‘If one loves nothing can make any difference.’
‘Do you think he is handsome?’
‘Very! ‘ said Philippa.
‘They call him Raynald de Swerte in his own country. Do you think he is swarthy? He is very dark of complexion is he not?’
‘It is most attractive. It makes him seem strong, a little fierce ... as a man should be.’
‘You must prefer fair men. Edward is so fair.’
‘I do not love him for the colour of his hair.’
‘No, one does not. In truth I think a little swarthiness is rather attractive.’
‘And so do I,’ said Philippa. ‘But don’t tell Edward.’ Eleanor laughed. How comforting they were, these conversations.
Philippa encouraged them and each day she was preparing Eleanor for her coming marriage. In private she was often a little uneasy and she discussed Raynald with Edward and asked him if he really thought the match was a good one.
‘I must find a husband for Eleanor,’ he said. ‘You know I have tried for Alfonso of Castile and for the son and heir of the King of France. I have tried too for the son of the King of Aragon. All these have been considered and have come to nothing. Eleanor has been rejected three times. I begin to think this might tell against her. I should like to see her married soon before it is believed that there is some spell working against her. I would not want her to remain unmarried.’
‘It seems wrong that she should marry this man because other offers came to nothing. Is it not true that this so happens in royal circles?’
‘Indeed it does, but I want Eleanor married and I can do with Raynald’s help. It is an astonishing thing but these small provinces seem to have more than I have myself of the things I need ... money ... arms ... men ... all that is necessary to succeed in conquest. And it may well be that if I do not have to contest the crown of France I may have to go to Scotland again some day. I shall need help, Philippa, and I am more likely to get it within my own family than anywhere else.’
‘Raynald is a somewhat ambitious man.’
‘All rulers worth their salt are ambitious.’
‘I did not like what he did to his father.’
‘My dear gentle Philippa, you are too good for this world. Have I not always said that Raynald’s father was a weak man. Had he continued to reign there would have been nothing worth-while for Raynald to inherit. So he forestalled destiny that was all.’
‘By imprisoning his own father! I have heard that he kept him in prison for six years and he was an old man.’
‘We must admire Raynald. He took over a tottering province ... Had he not done so there would have been nothing for him to take over.’
‘He kept his father in prison until he died.’
‘Yes, yes, but what did he do? He ruled well, with immense skill and vigour. And the result. Now Gueldres, though small, is one of the most important of the minor European countries. What he has done is admirable, Philippa, even though it meant supplanting his own father. In fact all he did was take six years earlier that which would have in time been his and he took it before it could be rendered useless. He has shown himself a good soldier and wise ruler. He is highly respected in Europe and I tell you this : even the King of France would think twice before entering into a disagreement with him. I shall welcome him as my brother-in-law.’
‘I think Eleanor is quite happy.’
‘I doubt not that you have helped her to recognize her good fortune.’
‘I have. But I do hope he will be kind to her.’
‘Of a certainty he will be kind to my sister.’
‘He is an ambitious man and she is not yet fifteen. He chose his first wife for her wealth I believe, for I heard that that exceeded her rank, and that the marriage took place when the bride’s parents promised to pay all his debts.’
‘Of one thing we can be sure. Eleanor’s brother will not be able to oblige him in the same manner.’
‘This time he marries a Princess of England.’
‘Ah, my Philippa, you are too gentle and loving for this world of ambition. Not that I would have you otherwise. Eleanor like her sister must marry where she can best help her country. I am delighted that she is not displeased with our swarthy hero. But had she been, there would have been no help for it. To Gueldres she must go as poor little Joanna went to Scotland. The fate of Princesses, my love.’
‘I know it well and I thank God that I was able to follow my heart. I shall never cease to thank Fate or God, or whoever ordained it, for the day when you came riding through the forest of Hainault; and I only had to look at you to love you.’
‘As I did you. As soon as I saw you I said: “There is my Queen,” and I made up my mind in that first moment.’
‘I shall pray that Eleanor knows as much happiness as we do.’
‘But you know, my love, that is impossible for no one could.’
* * *
Edward was determined that his sister should go to her new country well equipped and there was great excitement in her apartments where her wardrobe was being made ready with Philippa presiding over it. She made Eleanor try on her clothes and laughingly pointed out that she herself could not have done so. She was far too plump and very different from the willowy Eleanor. How beautiful was the cloak of blue Brussels cloth edged with ermine, the robe of Spanish cloth of gold which the young girl would wear on her wedding day; there were pelisses worked with gold thread and sparkling with silver beads and surtunics of velvet and cloth of silver. The King had presented her costly jewelled ornaments; there were coronals set with pearls and diamonds and several zones artistically wrought in rubies and emeralds.
Not only would she take with her clothes and jewels but also many items of furniture, chief of which was the bridal bed.,a magnificent object with Tripoli silk curtains most ex- qu!sitely embroidered and decorated in gold with the entwined arms of England and Gueldres. There was a chariot, another gift from her brother, decorated with her coat of arms, and lined with purple velvet spattered with golden stars; and there were chairs, tables, carpets, curtains and gold and silver plate; even tankards, table knives, dishes and spoons were to be taken with her.
Edward was determined that she should go into her new country equipped as a royal princess.
Nor was it only clothes and furniture which Eleanor took with her. Three tons of provisions were prepared for her including cinnamon, saffron, ginger, rice, dates, one hundred and twenty-seven pounds of white loaf sugar and two hundred pounds of Cyprus sugar to satisfy her rather sweet tooth.
Eleanor made sure too that she had a good supply of sandalwood, which finely powdered was a fleshy shade of red, for she was very pale of complexion and, admiring the natural rosy cheeks of her sister-in-law, liked to touch her own up with sandalwood to give her a healthy glow.
Several vessels were needed to convey everything across the sea and these were already being loaded in Sandwich.
The day arrived for her to set out. She took a fond and rather tearful farewell of her brother and Philippa. As a last- minute present the latter gave her a magnificently furred robe and Edward presented her with six altar cloths which she might give to the churches she passed on her journey to her new country.
It was a splendid cavalcade which travelled down to the coast. Eleanor rode at its head and among the company were one hundred and thirty-six men servants—pages, salterers, poulterers, sumpterers, chamber women, washermen, stewards knights and esquires.
All along the route people came out to see the procession pass. This was very different from the marriage of Eleanor
’s sister, Joanna. That marriage had not pleased the people at all. But Eleanor was clearly not unhappy.
The people were pleased with their new King so it was cheers for his sister and the match with Gueldres.
* * *
Philippa missed her young sister-in-law, but she was deeply absorbed in her own life because to her joy she had become pregnant again.
She had gone once more to Woodstock where her precious first-born Edward had made his appearance.
‘I have a fancy,’ she said, ‘that Woodstock is lucky for me.’
And Edward was, of course, only too happy to indulge her wishes.
Preparations were made for the birth of the child and the two cradles were ready awaiting their occupant. One, the state cradle was very grand and of course would be used only for state occasions when the nobility would wish to inspect the child. This cradle which bore the arms of England and Hainault was beautifully lined with gilded taffeta and had a fur coverlet made from six hundred and seventy skins which could hardly be used until the baby was a few months older and winter had set in.
And on the sixteenth day of June of that year 1332 Philippa gave birth to her second child. This time it was a daughter, as beautiful and physically perfect as her brother had been.
The King was delighted and if he would have preferred another boy he did not show this. He loved the little girl as much as he loved her brother and no child could have come into the world with a greater welcome.
The King had been thinking a great deal about his mother. He had in fact on one occasion visited her at Castle Rising where he heard from her attendants that she suffered from bouts of madness and how her grief was so great at such times that they feared she might do herself an injury. He spoke to her gently, for he could not forget all she had once meant to him, and he gave orders that never must she be treated with less respect than was due to her rank and none must forget that she was his mother.
It was necessary, of course, to keep her at Castle Rising and he did not wish to see her too often for, although his conscience troubled him concerning the fact that she was virtually a prisoner, whenever he saw her horrible thoughts came into his mind about the death of his father. All efforts to find the murderers had so far come to nothing, but he believed that in due course they would be delivered to him; and when they were and he had avenged his father perhaps he would feel easier in his mind.
His mixed feelings of sorrow and uncertainty about his mother led him to suggest that his daughter be named after her. He suggested it tentatively to Philippa who immediately understood his feelings.
It is a beautiful name,’ she said. ‘Yes, I should like our first daughter to be named Isabella.’
Young Isabella flourished. She was placed under the care of Sir William and Lady Omer, while a young girl named Joanna Gaunbun was put in attendance, her duties being that of a rocker and her pallet bed was placed beside the cradle so that at any hour of the night she could attend to the baby if need be.
Philippa nursed the child herself. She could not bear to pass it over to any other; and, unlike her predecessor, she spent many happy hours in the nursery.
THE EXILES OF
CHTEAU GAILLARD
NEARLY four years had passed since the Princess Joanna had come to Scotland as the bride of David the Bruce. They had been uneasy years for Joanna. She did not greatly care for her bridegroom who had seemed such a child to her, being two years younger; only five years old when she had arrived.
The country was cold and bleak, the winds harsh, the people dour, and she bitterly missed her brother, her sister Eleanor, and her new sister-in-law Philippa.
The old King had been kind to her, but he was suffering from a terrible disease which had distorted his appearance in a dreadful way and he frightened her in spite of his kindness. She longed for her home and she used to tell her little husband about it and how much she wanted to go back there.
Robert the Bruce died and then David was King and she was Queen which made them very important.
Soon after the death of Robert they had been solemnly anointed and crowned and then they knew they were really King and Queen. David had been anxious as to what he would have to do, but he was told that he need not worry. All he had to do was what he was told and there were plenty to tell him that.
The two chief men whom they must obey were the Regents. One of these was Lord James Douglas and the other the Earl of Moray. Robert the Bruce had expressed a wish that his heart should be carried to the Holy Land because during his lifetime he had made a vow to go and fight the Infidel. With all his responsibilities it had never been possible for him to carry out his vow but he believed that if his heart was taken there, he would be absolved from his broken vow. He trusted Lord James Douglas as he trusted few men and when Douglas agreed to undertake the mission he knew he would do his best to carry it out.
Lord James Douglas had been an impressive figure in Joanna’s eyes right from the first. He was a very big man, tall, broad-shouldered with masses of very black hair which had earned him the name of Black Douglas. However when he spoke—and oddly enough with a slight lisp—he betrayed a rather quiet courteous nature and although none could be fiercer in battle in his personal relationships he was a gentle man.
Joanna had begun to love him for he showed her clearly that he was going to look after her. He understood just how she felt in leaving her family and he wanted her to know that while he was near her she would have nothing to fear from anyone.
So it was a great relief to know that he had been appointed one of the Regents of Scotland and he would be in close contact with her and the young King.
But alas there was this vow he had made and he must set out with the heart of Robert the Bruce in order to keep his promise.
When he came to say good-bye to them he showed them the casket of gold in which the heart of Robert the Bruce was carried. The children held it and marvelled at it and Black Douglas told them what a brave heart it had been.
‘The Scots will never forget what they owe to Robert the Bruce,’ he told them.
Joanna was fearful though when he left. A loneliness came over her which was almost like a premonition of evil.
‘The Earl of Moray will watch over you,’ he had comforted her. ‘All you have to do is what he tells you. And soon I shall be back.’
Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray was the cousin of Robert the Bruce. He had served with his uncle and had been closer to him than any man and he had made him Regent with Douglas to help him, on his death bed. Moray was an honourable man; there was no one Robert the Bruce could have placed greater trust in. There was a dignity about Moray and a determination to do what his uncle would expect of him, and Joanna felt as safe with Moray as she had with Douglas.
So when Douglas set out on his mission she felt that while one of those who were so important to her and David had gone, the other remained and as Douglas said he would come back soon.
Alas, there was sad news of Douglas.
Moray came to the children that he himself might tell them what had happened.
He sat down and drew them to him and as they stood beside him he placed an arm about each of them.
‘There is sad news of Black Douglas,’ he said quietly.
He felt Joanna start and went on gently : ‘I know you loved him. He looked fierce sometimes, didn’t he?’
Joanna nodded. She had heard the story of how he had almost captured her brother. She had thought him a fearful man until she met him and he himself had told her the story. ‘It was war,’ he had said. ‘War is a terrible thing, my Queen. We want to avoid it all we can.’
‘He was not really fierce,’ said Joanna. ‘When will he come home?’
Moray shook his head. ‘You are a King and a Queen,’ he reminded them, ‘and when there is bad news it is better for you to know it at once. Douglas will never come back. He is dead.’
‘Dead,’ cried David shrilly. ‘He cannot be dead!’
‘Alas, my litt
le lord, he is. He took the heart of your father from this land as you know. He went to Alfonso the King of Castile and Leon because he knew that he was fighting a war against the Saracen King of Granada.’
‘I thought he was to go to the Holy Land,’ said Joanna.
‘It matters not, my lady, whether a knight goes to Jerusalem or Spain as long as he fights for Christ against the Infidel. So there will be just as much merit in God’s eyes to fight in Spain as in Jerusalem. So to Spain went Black Douglas. He fought bravely on the plains of Andalusia but when the battle was won he pursued the fleeing Moors. He went too far and suddenly he was cut off from his friends. He carried the Bruce’s heart and knowing of course that he could not come out of this affray alive he flung the heart from him into the midst of his enemy and followed it as he had followed Robert the Bruce during his lifetime.’
‘They ... killed him,’ whispered Joanna.
Moray nodded. ‘But the Moors respected a brave man. They will send his body home to Scotland and we shall bury it here.’
Both children were crying. They would never see Black Douglas again; but Joanna who was the elder thought: He will not be there to protect us any more.
But they had the dear Earl of Moray. They were safe while they had him.
* * *
That there was some trouble afoot Joanna was aware. No one told her of course but she could sense a certain tension in the castle. She listened to the conversation of attendants and servants, for she felt it was important to know what was going on now that Black Douglas was dead and the Earl of Moray had to be away so much.
There was one name she kept hearing mentioned and that was Baliol.
‘Who is Baliol?’ she asked one of her women who was the sort who liked to gossip and who, Joanna had discovered, was more likely to impart information than some of them.
‘Baliol, my lady. You will be meaning Edward Baliol. He is the son of John Baliol, who was at one time King of Scotland. I dareswear Master Edward thinks he has a right to the crown. That would not surprise me.’
