The Vow on the Heron Read online

  It was clear that Uncle John believed that the greatest good fortune which could have befallen his niece was her marrying into England.

  In the heart of the City the Lord Mayor and his aldermen were waiting to greet her. It was a most impressive ceremony during which she was presented with a service of gold plate which Uncle John told her later was worth quite three hundred marks and was a sign of the people’s joy in her arrival.

  As the next day was Christmas Day she would spend that in London. She would be conducted to the Palace of Westminster and there she would remain for the next three days.

  But why, she asked herself, was Edward not there to greet her?

  In the palace she was taken to those apartments which had been restored with great artistry and expense under the direction of the King’s great grandfather, Henry III. They were beautiful and had been especially prepared for her on the King’s order.

  But if only he had been here himself to greet her!

  Her uncle explained to her. ‘We shall shortly be travelling to York where the King is with his mother the Queen.’

  ‘I had thought to meet him ere this,’ said Philippa, and her uncle noticed her despondency.

  ‘Dear niece,’ he answered, ‘you must remember that you are married to a King. As eager as he is for your coming, he has State duties which demand his attention. He is involved at this time making a treaty with the Scots and it is for this reason that he cannot be with you. You have seen, have you not, how his people have welcomed you. Why do you think? It is because they have had orders from the King to do so.’

  ‘So their welcome was not because they were glad to see me but because they were ordered to appear so,’ said the logical Philippa.

  ‘I tell you this to show the King’s great regard for you. But one can always tell whether the people’s welcome comes from the heart—as it never could if it were shown merely because it was commanded. Nay, my dear niece, you are the most fortunate of girls. Do not look askance at your luck.’

  ‘I won’t,’ replied Philippa. ‘I do understand that Edward has his State duties. And I am sure the people really like me. They could not be so warm and friendly if they did not.’

  There were so many people who wished to meet her and so much feasting. The three days of Christmas had passed and, leaving the Londoners to continue celebrating their King’s marriage to the pleasant little girl from Hainault, Philippa and her retinue began the journey north.

  Edward’s second cousin, John de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex, had arrived to conduct her on her journey north and by New Year’s Day they had reached Peterborough, where they rested awhile at the Abbey there.

  The weather had taken a turn for the worse and their speed was considerably slackened on account of the icy roads; the winds were fierce and the quantity of baggage which travelled with them slowed them down even more, so it seemed a very long time to Philippa before she saw the towers of the Minster in the distance and knew that her journey was nearing its end.

  Then she saw bearing down towards them an array of armour glistening in the pale wintry sun; pennants fluttered in the strong east wind for the cream of the nobility who were with the King in York had come out to greet her; and at their head rode the young King himself.

  Philippa’s heart leaped with joy as she saw him mounted on a fine white horse. Gloriously apparelled, taller than when she had last seen him, his flaxen hair adorned by a slender golden crown, he looked more like a god than a king and she was overwhelmed by adoration for him.

  He broke away from the company in his eagerness to greet her. His horse was close to hers. His blue eyes were looking earnestly into hers as he took her hand and kissed it.

  ‘Philippa ... little Philippa,’ he said, ‘at last you have come to me. It has seemed a long time.’

  ‘For me also,’ she replied. ‘I had thought to see you long ere this.’

  ‘Oh, you are just the same. I feared you might have changed. How long it seems since we were together in the Hainault woods. I found the waiting irksome, but it is over now. We are to be married immediately. I’ll have no delay.’

  The glow of happiness which had settled on her made her beautiful but even in this moment she could not forget those days of anxiety when she had feared she might not be the chosen one.

  ‘I was afraid ...’ she began.

  ‘Afraid!’ he cried. ‘You ... of me!’

  ‘Afraid that one of my sisters might have been chosen by the Bishop.’

  Edward smiled at that. ‘That could never have been.’ ‘Oh but it might have. Margaret is the eldest. I thought he was going to choose her.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have dared.’

  ‘But I thought he was going to. He seemed to study her. I could have died with misery because you asked him to choose.’

  Edward burst out laughing. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘the Bishop was sent to choose. It is the custom, you see. He must choose the most suitable. Kings have to follow customs, Philippa. But do you know what I said to him? “Bishop,” I said, “if you value your head you will choose Philippa. Understand this now that I, the King, command you to choose Philippa.” And of course he would dare choose no other.’

  ‘Oh Edward, is it really so?’

  ‘I swear it, my little love. I swear it on our marriage vows, on the tomb of St Thomas, on my father’s bones. It is Philippa I loved in Valenciennes and I swore then and I swear now that I will take none other as my Queen.’

  She was silent for a few moments. Then she said quietly: ‘I had thought I should want to die if I had not been chosen. Now I feel I could die for very happiness.’

  ‘No talk of dying please. You will live for me, sweet Philippa, and I for you and thus shall it be until the end of our days.’

  It seemed to her that York was the most beautiful of all cities and she had never believed that there could be such happiness in the world.

  The people cheered. They were so young—this King and Queen; they were so handsome and so much in love.

  * * *

  On the thirtieth of January, a month after Philippa had arrived in London they were married in York Minster. It was an impressive ceremony and it was attended not only by the leading members of the English nobility but by many of the great Scottish nobles also, for they had come to York to conclude the peace treaty which was being made between the two countries.

  The young lovers were enchanted with each other. Edward would not be sixteen years old until the coming November and Philippa was even younger, but it was an age for early maturing and it had never occurred either to them or to anyone else that they were too young to consummate the marriage.

  Although there were meetings with the Scots, and Parliament and the royal council were convened at York, still Edward was spending most of his tune in the company of his bride. They rode out together and they were cheered wherever they went; they were in love with each other and the country was in love with them. Philippa made no secret of her adoration for her young husband and he of his love for her. They were ideally suited, it was generally said; and indeed the rich treasures which Philippa had brought with her into the country were very useful, for the English exchequer was very low at this time. Queen Isabella had necessarily spent much on maintaining her army and in keeping herself and Mortimer in the position they had taken up; the Scottish campaign had been costly; so in spite of the fact that the new Queen was the daughter of a mere Count she was, comparatively, a rich girl and welcomed because of it.

  Philippa was delighted that her treasure should be so enthusiastically received. She wanted to give everything she had to her wonderful husband, and in her luggage were rich tapestries and cloth besides valuable jewels, for her father had not wished her to come as a pauper into her new country.

  She was immensely popular with her young brother and sisters-in-law. Twelve-year-old John of Eltham who thought his brother the King the most wonderful being in the world immediately fell in love with Philippa; their shared opinion
of the King made an immediate bond between them. The two little girls, ten-year-old Eleanor and seven-year-old Joanna, were ready to adore her.

  ‘I like you,’ Eleanor told her, ‘because you are always smiling.’

  ‘And I like you because your cheeks are so red,’ added Joanna.

  They were her dear little sisters, Philippa told them, and she was particularly happy to have them because when she came to England she had had to leave three sisters behind. And now she had two to replace them.

  ‘There ought to have been three of us,’ said Joanna looking apologetic.

  ‘Never mind,’ put in Eleanor. ‘There is John. Will he do as well as a sister?’

  Philippa said she thought he would do every bit as well.

  When Edward was obliged to meet certain of his ministers and she could not be with him Philippa took the opportunity of going to the royal schoolroom. She was quick to sense that there was some uneasiness in her husband’s family. It may have been due to the fact that she herself had come from such a happy home and that the honesty of purpose which prevailed there made her alert to something which was entirely alien to it.

  That it emanated from her mother-in-law and the Earl of March she knew. She saw as little of them as possible for the truth was that they frightened her a little. She sensed a strangeness in the manner of Queen Isabella and she knew that the Dowager Queen and the Earl of March watched her intently. She fancied they were trying to find some fault in her. True, they were friendly towards her, in fact almost gushing in their attitude, and that was something she did not trust. The fact was that she did not understand them. The Queen made her very uneasy and it was not only her attitude which made her feel this. It even had something to do with Isabella’s beauty. She moved with a grace and quietness which was almost feline, and would often appear suddenly in a room where Philippa had fancied herself to be alone. She endeavoured to make the young girl feel awkward, so that she was a little clumsy and somewhat hesitant in her speech. Philippa could not understand the effect the Queen had on her; yet she sensed in it something unhealthy, even evil.

  As for the Earl of March, there was something in his cold features which told her that he was ruthless and brutal and she could not understand why he was treated with such respect by everyone—and most of all by the Queen. She believed that people were afraid of him and she was sure she ought to be wary of him.

  One day, she promised herself she would speak to Edward about her feelings but she feared it would be rather churlish to say that about his mother which might be construed as criticism.

  Moreover when she was with Edward they talked of themselves, how much they loved each other, and how wonderful life had been since they had married; they even talked of the children they would have, for they were certain they would soon have a child.

  ‘It will be a boy,’ declared Edward.

  And we shall call him Edward.’

  Then they talked about this boy who, Philippa declared, must be exactly like his father or she would be most displeased.

  Such nonsense they talked, Philippa said, but they laughed and kissed and made love and life was wonderful ... far too wonderful to bring in sinister undertones which after all might only be thought up in her imagination.

  But there was something unhappy even in the schoolroom. Philippa discovered this from the little girls.

  They remembered so much that had happened. There was the time when they had been in the Tower and Lady le Despenser had been their guardian. Their father had set her over them and their mother was unhappy about it because she was the wife of Hugh.

  Philippa knew enough about the recent history of her new country to understand that Hugh le Despenser had been a great favourite of the King and that Queen Isabella had been neglected for his sake. The people had hated him and he had been executed and later the King had given up his crown to Edward.

  She did not talk to Edward about it because it was depressing and he was always sad when his father’s name was mentioned.

  ‘There was a lot of shouting in the streets,’ Eleanor told her.

  And we were frightened,’ added Joanna.

  ‘And then the people came and took us to our mother.’

  ‘We were still frightened.’ Joanna’s face puckered a little. Philippa realized that the little girl was greatly in awe of her mother.

  ‘Once we saw a man swinging on a rope,’ Joanna went on. ‘He was dead.’

  ‘He was Hugh’s father,’ went on Eleanor. ‘They had done terrible things to him. Then they hung him on the rope outside the castle ... and he swung and he swung ...’

  Philippa said: ‘It is all over now. I should not think of it any more.’

  ‘I do sometimes in my bed,’ said Eleanor. ‘When it is dark.’

  ‘I do too,’ added Joanna.

  ‘Then you mustn’t any more. It’s all over.’

  ‘Have you ever seen a man hanging on a rope, dear sister?’ asked Eleanor.

  ‘No,’ said Philippa firmly. ‘Perhaps you didn’t either. Perhaps it was a dream.’

  The two little girls looked at her wonderingly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Philippa, ‘that was it. A dream. Nobody worries much about dreams. They seem of no importance when the day breaks.’

  The two girls seemed to like the idea of the hanging man being a dream. ‘Yes, it was a dream,’ they kept saying.

  Joanna had something else on her mind. She wanted to know about marriage.

  ‘What’s marriage like?’ asked Eleanor.

  Philippa said that she thought it was the most wonderful thing that could happen to anyone.

  ‘But you married Edward,’ Joanna reminded her. ‘I wish I could marry Edward.’

  ‘You cannot marry your brother,’ Philippa explained. ‘Besides he is already married now.’

  ‘When I was little,’ went on Eleanor, ‘they were going to marry me to Alfonso, the King of Castile. I never did though. Perhaps he didn’t like me.’

  ‘That could not be,’ Philippa replied firmly. ‘He never saw you.’

  ‘Did you see Edward?’ asked Joanna.

  ‘Yes, I did.’ She told them of his coming to Valenciennes and how they had ridden in the forest and fallen in love with each other and then Edward had sent for her to be his wife.

  They listened avidly. She told it with such glowing enthusiasm that the little girls could not hear it often enough.

  Joanna’s face puckered with anxiety. ‘They are going to make me marry the son of the King of the Scots.’ Suddenly she turned to Philippa and buried her face in her lap. ‘Don’t let them, dear sister. I don’t want to go to Scotland.’

  Philippa stroked the little girl’s hair. ‘Oh you are too young yet. You will have to wait years and years.’

  That comforted Joanna. ‘I don’t want to go to Scotland,’ she said, ‘even when I am old. It is a cold cold country and the Scots are our enemies.’

  ‘That is why you will have to marry Robert the Bruce’s son,’ explained Eleanor. ‘We always have to marry to stop people making wars.’

  ‘He’s only a little boy,’ said Joanna scornfully. ‘He’s not as old as I am.’

  ‘Oh, you are far too young,’ Philippa assured her.

  Then she told them more about Edward’s visit to Valenciennes and although Joanna laughed and asked questions Philippa could see that she was not entirely convinced. She must have been listening to gossip. There was plenty of that and people were not always very careful of what they said in children’s hearing.

  * * *

  When they were alone together Philippa talked to Edward about Joanna’s fears.

  ‘Poor little girl,’ she said, ‘she has had a very sad life. She and Eleanor seemed to be constantly expecting something unhappy to happen to them.’

  Edward frowned. ‘They were always well looked after in Pleshy Castle in Essex. Isabella de Valence was put in charge of them. She was connected with the family because she had married Ralph Monthermer after my aunt Jo
anna died. Johanette Jermyn was their gouvernante and she was a pleasant woman. They should have had a happy household.’

  ‘I have no doubt their comforts were taken care of,’ said Philippa. ‘But I think they missed love. In my family our parents were always with us and we were all happy together.’

  ‘Yours was an unusual family, sweetheart. That was why they produced you.’

  She smiled lovingly at him but she pursued the subject. ‘Is it really true that Joanna is to marry the son of Robert the Bruce?’

  ‘It’s part of the treaty. It’s a good thing really. These wars with Scotland are costly in life and money. The country is too wild and mountainous for a complete conquest. Even my grandfather could not do it. I am all for a peaceful settlement between our two countries and this is what this treaty is all about.’

  ‘The Scots agree?’

  He nodded. ‘Robert the Bruce is anxious for it. He is a very sick man. He has been slowly dying of leprosy for many years and the end cannot be far off. All that he leaves is a five-year- old boy, David, and David will be King of Scotland when Robert dies.’

  ‘So the plan is to marry Joanna to him.’

  ‘That is so.’

  ‘As the boy is five and Joanna seven the marriage will not take place for years.’

  ‘It will have to take place soon. Anything could happen in a few years. It has to be clear that there is union between England and Scotland and the only way of making this apparent is to celebrate the marriage.’

  ‘Then Joanna will stay in her own country until she is older.’

  Edward frowned. ‘I’m afraid not. Joanna will have to go to Scotland.’

  ‘Poor child! Then her fears are not groundless.’

  ‘Oh come, Philippa, these things happen to princesses. They have to reconcile themselves to the fact that they are bargaining counters. It always has been so.’

  ‘But such a child!’

  ‘Princesses grow up quickly.’

  He kissed her lips. ‘I’ll not have you worrying about these matters. Come, my love, I never have half the time with you that I want. Let us forget these tiresome Scots. They have been a thorn in our side for centuries. This matter may well settle the problem.’