The Queen from Provence (29 page)

THE SAD LITTLE BRIDE

T
here were several boys in the royal nursery, but Edward was the leading spirit and always had been. He was eleven years old, very tall for his age and, although his hair had darkened a little it was still very fair. His cousin, Henry, although four years older was of a more gentle nature. Henry was also handsome, but less so than Edward as he was less tall. Henry was a good friend and cousin and they shared most things.

In the royal nurseries were also the de Montfort cousins. Their father, Simon de Montfort, and their mother, Edward’s Aunt Eleanor, were in Gascony where Simon had undertaken the government at the King’s request. After Henry’s outburst about Simon’s seduction of his sister he had been ashamed of himself for so blatantly lying and in giving him the governorship of Gascony (a turbulent province which he had been unable to manage) he was getting rid of him and at the same time offering him the olive branch. So with their parents away the de Montfort children were the wards of the King.

The de Montfort boys – Henry who was a year older than Edward, Simon who was two years younger and Guy four years younger – were a wild element in the establishment, always urging their cousins on to disobedience. The eldest of the group, Henry, son of Richard of Cornwall, was a restraining influence and as he was the senior by three years (Henry de Montfort being next in seniority) his influence was great.

Then there were the two girls, Margaret who was a year younger than Edward and Beatrice three years younger than Margaret. Then came Edmund the youngest of all – five years old and only rarely in the company of the others.

Margaret – although at this time she knew nothing of it – had at the age of two been betrothed to the son of King Alexander of Scotland who was a year younger than herself.

There had been and still was an uneasy situation between England and Scotland and at the first sign of disaster the Scots were ready to overrun the border. The suggested marriage had therefore been of great importance to Henry and even after the formal betrothal there had been a further outbreak of trouble and in the settlement of this it had been agreed that the marriage should take place as soon as the children were old enough.

As she played with her little sister Beatrice and her brother Edmund – for it often happened that Edward excluded them from the manly games he played with his companions and even kind cousin Henry of Cornwall could find no place for them – Margaret had no idea that change was so near to her and that the happy life in the royal nurseries was coming to a close for her.

It was one summer’s day when the Queen came to the nursery and seeing the young children at the window seat looking out onto the fields where the boys were performing all manner of equestrian tricks, Eleanor decided to talk to Margaret.

They turned to her and threw themselves into her arms. Eleanor loved all her children dearly and, although Edward was her favourite, they all knew this and accepted it as right, for there was something very special about Edward. That did not mean that she had not unlimited affection to shower on all her children.

‘My lady, look at them,’ cried Margaret. ‘Look at Edward. He has cast aside the reins. See. He holds his hands above his head.’

‘I see. What a noble figure he makes. How fortunate you are, my darlings, to have such a brother.’

But while she watched and marvelled at his skill she was filled with apprehension on account of his daring.

‘I shall ride like that,’ Edmund told her.

She kissed him and said: ‘Why, little son, you will ride exactly like Edward. Perhaps Edward will teach you.’

‘Cousin Henry might,’ admitted Edmund.

‘First you must go on with your lessons, my darling. Beatrice, my dear, take Edmund to the schoolroom and bring me your books. I want to see how you progress. Margaret, stay here with me.’

Margaret was delighted. There was nothing the children liked better than to have their mother to themselves.

When they were alone Eleanor drew her daughter closer to her.

‘Margaret, you are going to be married, my child.’

Margaret was silent. Her lovely eyes round with wonder regarded her mother.

‘Yes, my dearest. You are going to marry the little King of Scotland. Think of that. You will be a queen.’

‘Shall I wear a crown?’

‘You will wear a beautiful crown. I am sure you will be very happy.’

‘Where is he then?’

‘He is in Scotland.’

‘When will he come here?’

The Queen was silent. ‘My dearest, he will not come here. A bride goes to her husband.’

‘Shall we all go to Scotland then?’

‘We shall all go with you to York where you will be married. Then you will go with your husband to Scotland.’

‘I won’t go unless you and my father and Edward and Henry … and Beatrice …’

‘My dear, you are the daughter of the King and Queen. That is a very important thing to be. It means that when you marry you can make peace between nations and that is what your father wants. I want it too and so must you.’

‘I do, but I want us all to make peace and all be together.’

‘You are very young, but daughters of kings and queens must grow up quickly. You will do your duty and be a good wife to the King of Scotland as I was to the King of England. You know what a happy time I had with your dear grandmother of Provence and my dear father whom you have never seen and your Aunt Sanchia …’

‘They are all here.’

‘They were not at first. I came alone and I had not seen your father before our marriage. Then we met and we loved each other for ever and we had you dear children and ours was the best marriage in the world and there will be one other like it – that of my darling little Margaret and the King of Scotland. Then we shall all meet … often. I promise you, my darling. I shall insist that we travel north and you will travel south … and we shall be together. And you will show me your dear children whom you will love as I love you all … and you will wonder why you were ever afraid.’

‘But I don’t want to leave you and my father and …’

‘No, of course you do not. Little brides never want to and then they find so much more happiness than they ever dreamed of.’

Margaret lay against her mother whose heart was torn with apprehension while she painted a rosy picture of what marriage would bring.

When the younger children returned with their books Margaret was almost convinced that all would be well.

Preparations were going on apace for the marriage between the King’s daughter and the young King of Scotland. The usual questions arose as to how it was to be paid for. The Londoners declared that they had had enough of royal extravagances and would pay no more.

Henry was incensed and in a moment of violent temper, seeking for revenge he hit on the idea of setting up a fair in Tothill Fields for the benefit of the people of Westminster. If while the fair was in progress, which he intended to be for two weeks, the London shops opened they would incur a fine. So they had the choice of losing business for two weeks or facing the King’s tax and as the King’s insatiable demands were well known it seemed that the easier to bear would be the loss of business.

‘How much longer,’ asked the merchants of London, ‘are we going to endure the arrogance of this King? The country suffered under the rule of his father until the people rose and rid themselves of him. Are we to suffer in the same way from the son?’ What was the difference between John and his son Henry? There was a great difference. Even his enemies had to admit that. John was a fiend, a mad man without respect for his fellow human beings or even for God. Henry was a weak King. His rule was ineffectual. But he was a deeply religious man, a faithful husband and a doting father. If the people despised him, his family loved him dearly. His son Edward, the heir, was growing up into a strong man and there could be no doubt on whose side he would place himself.

All the same, said the people of London, the King should take care.

The Queen devoted herself to poor bewildered little Margaret. When one of her children was unhappy or in danger all her thoughts were directed on that one. Even her darling Longshanks took second place this time. Eleanor was with her daughter every day, advising her, discussing her wardrobe, trying to make light of what was happening to her. And so happy was Margaret in her mother’s company that she forgot her coming ordeal.

Eleanor, who greatly relished fine clothes and jewels, was in her element choosing garments for the wedding. She aroused such enthusiasm for the clothes which would be worn that the little girl could forget her apprehension in contemplating them.

One day when at Windsor Eleanor and Margaret were with the seamstresses examining the cloth which would be used for the gowns when the sky suddenly became so overcast that the seamstresses could no longer see to work. It had been a hot sultry day and during the last week the weather had been oppressive.

Margaret was a little frightened. The darkening sky added to her general apprehension.

‘It is nothing,’ said the Queen. ‘We were bound to have a storm after the heat. What do you think of this quintise, Margaret? You are to wear it the day after the ceremony, for I think we should all be as grand then as we were on the day itself.’

Margaret said she liked the quintise which was so called because this type of garment was considered quaint. It took any shape; it could be long and trailing the ground or end merely at the ankles. It could be allowed to hang loose or be held up and the edges of the sleeves were often bordered by scallops. The Queen had taken a great fancy to these garments and enjoyed introducing new ways of wearing them which were immediately followed by the ladies of the Court.

But as the storm gathered overhead even the Queen lost interest in the quintises.

A violent crash of thunder seemed to set the castle rocking. The Queen went to the window. Lightning was streaking across the sky. The rain fell in torrents and then suddenly it was as though the foundations of the castle itself trembled. From the chimney came a shower of bricks and dirt. The Queen seized her daughter just as the two of them were thrown to the floor.

They lay together, Margaret’s heart beating fast, but she was comforted by the proximity of her mother. All her life she had believed that while her mother was near no harm could come to her; and in that moment of terror she realised that what frightened her was not the thought of marriage and a husband but that she would be separated from her parents.

There were shouts from without. The King came running into the room.

‘My dearest …’ He was on his knees. He had the Queen in his arms and was reaching for Margaret. The three of them clung together.

‘Where are the children … Edward …’ began the Queen.

‘They are safe. This is where the damage is. And you two here … My dearest Eleanor.’

‘All is well. We are not harmed.’

‘Let us get out of here,’ said the King. ‘We don’t know what damage may yet be done.’

He had his arms about them both. Knights, attendants, men and women were everywhere. They all expressed their joy at the sight of the Queen. In the great hall they assembled. All the children were safe. The Queen uttered up prayers of thanks. Henry was gazing at his family, his eyes ranging over them as though to assure himself that not one of the precious band was missing.

It turned out that the thunderstorm had done a great deal of damage. Not only had the Queen’s apartment been struck by lightning but many sheep had been destroyed in the fields and even some of the great oaks in Windsor Park had been uprooted.

Contemplating the damage, Margaret shivered.

‘Is it an omen?’ she wondered.

The cavalcade made its way to York. Margaret rode between her father and mother and every now and then she would throw a poignant glance in their direction as though she wanted to remember exactly what they looked like so that they would live vividly in her mind when she was no longer with them.

Both King and Queen made a great effort to be merry but they could not hide their sadness from their daughter, who shared it; and even Eleanor, who would have been prepared to oppose any law of the kingdom for the sake of her children, realised the necessity for this marriage and tried to console herself that the bridegroom was even younger than the bride and Margaret was of a strong enough nature to be able to look after herself.