The Hammer of the Scots (32 page)

So after the celebrations were over they would accompany the bridegroom’s father, the old Duke of Brabant, to Dover where they would say farewell to him before he left for his dominions.

That seemed as satisfactory an arrangement as was possible.

Meanwhile they could give themselves up to the banquets and entertainments which they had devised for the marriage of their daughter, and she could only pray that the rumours she had heard concerning the bridegroom’s profligate life were unfounded.

Two important events followed on Margaret’s marriage.

The first concerned the Jews. Edward had discussed the matter with his barons headed by Gloucester. He had already expelled the Jews from his Continental possessions to the great joy of the people there. He now proposed to do the same in England. The general opinion was that this would be a good move. The unpopularity of the Jews was so great that it seemed Edward could only win his subjects’ approval by dismissing them. The Templars were now financially involved in the affairs of the country, and during the past years many Italian bankers had settled in London where they were taking over the business which had once been entirely in the hands of the Jews.

‘We do not need the Jews now,’ said Gloucester. ‘And the people will more easily accept the Italians. They are Christians. The Jews crucified Christ, that is something for which they will never be forgiven.’

The Queen had pointed out that Christ himself had spoken often of a Christian duty to forgive one’s enemies, and Edward explained gently to her that the expulsion of the Jews was political as well as religious. ‘A matter of state, my love,’ he said; and she who had always accepted his ruling must not attempt to disagree; in any case she felt too weak to contest anything at that time.

His ministers were in favour of the expulsion. The Jews had made fortunes from England; let them go now, but leave behind a proportion of that which they had gained as some said through exploiting the people of England. The King had not wished to be harsh. It was true, he abhorred their lack of Christian faith, but they had worked hard and he would like to be as fair as possible.

He would take a fifteenth part of their goods; they might take with them a part of their movables and enough money to defray the expenses of their journey. Their houses and land would be the property of the King. They should be given time to arrange their move but all must be out of the country before the feast of All Saints.

The persecuted people proved themselves astute to the last. Having been told they could take what they could carry they procured a great ship which was brought up the Thames and into this they were able to load much treasure.

But the master of the ship was determined that they should not, as he said, cheat the King and the country. He sailed off, as arranged, but as he reached the mouth of the river where it opened into the sea he ran the ship onto a sandbank. There he invited the Jews to walk with him to exercise themselves before they left England. This they did, and when he saw that the tide was coming in he embarked, but told the Jews they had a little time left and he would let them know when they must come aboard.

When the Jews realised how the tide was rising they ran to the ship’s side, but the captain still would not allow them to come on the ship.

‘We shall be drowned,’ they cried.

‘Nay,’ said the captain. ‘Did not your forebears pass through the Red Sea? Call to Moses to come to your aid that the same may be done for you as was done for your forefathers.’

The Jews cried out in supplication, but the tide rose and the ship was able to drift off the sandbank and into the river. It was said that that spot was haunted and that at times it was possible to hear the cries of the drowning Jews.

By the appointed time sixteen thousand Jews had left the country.

  Chapter IX  

THE QUEEN’S CROSSES

H
aving married two of his daughters and rid the country of the Jews, Edward’s eyes were on Scotland. His hopes were high. If he could marry young Edward to the Scottish Queen, now in Norway, he would have achieved a great deal, for he saw an era of peace throughout the island and peace meant prosperity. He could then turn his eyes to the Continent, protect those possessions which still remained part of the crown and, who knew, he might regain some of those which his foolish father and wicked grandfather had lost? The augury for the future was promising.

It was fortuitous the way events had fallen into shape to suit him.

Margaret, the Maid of Norway, was but six years old – a few months older than Prince Edward. It was a pity they were so young, but if he could get her to England and bring her up in his Court and the marriage was performed at the earliest possible time, this could work out very well.

There was a good Regency in Scotland which had been set up after the death of Alexander – the grandfather of the little Maid. The child’s mother, Margaret, had died giving birth to her; and her father, Eric of Norway, was at that time still in his teens. He had been very willing to promise to send the child to Edward so, with his usual foresight and energy, Edward procured a dispensation for the two cousins to marry, and had commenced his negotiations with Scotland and Norway. In due course the Treaty of Salisbury had been arranged though Edward had had to concede that there should be no contract of marriage between the two children until the Scots had given their consent. Edward foresaw no difficulties about this once he had the child in his hands.

More recently he had had a meeting with the Scottish nobles and they had agreed that in the event of a marriage between the two young people Scotland should remain separate unto itself and divided from England. This was agreeable to Edward. He foresaw the future when young Edward and the Maid from Norway would have a son who would unite the two kingdoms. He was looking far ahead.

The important matter now was to get the Maid of Norway into his possession. That little six-year-old was the pivot on which the entire project turned.

He would send for her. Thank God Eric was willing to let her go, although he warned Edward that his little daughter was of a delicate constitution and they had had difficulty in rearing her. Eric thought that the sea journey might prove tiresome for her, and he thought that perhaps it should be delayed until the spring.

This was impossible. Edward would have no delay. The Maid must be at his Court before All Hallowtide. He was sure that if she were not some of those restive barons of Scotland might attempt to prevent her coming to England. The Maid was the undoubted Queen of Scotland, but if she were not there there would be several other claimants to the throne. He must have her with him as soon as possible.

He himself went to Yarmouth to supervise the fitting out of the vessel which was to go to Bergen, collect the precious child and bring her to England.

He took the Queen with him for he felt that a woman’s advice would be useful for the comfort of the child. A cabin had been fitted out for her, which was pretty and would give pleasure to a six-year-old.

‘What would she like to eat, think you?’ asked Edward.

‘Sugar and raisins,’ said the Queen. ‘Edward is very fond of them and she is his age. Ginger too was a favourite with the children … and walnuts … oh yes they did like walnuts. And children love gingerbread, especially if it is made into fancy shapes.’

So the King ordered: ‘Let these things be added to the usual stores.’

He himself supervised their being taken aboard and side by side with the Queen he watched the vessel sail off on its route to Bergen.

‘When that child is in our hands,’ he told the Queen jubilantly, ‘I see a new era of peace beginning for England.’

‘Do you think all those who have a claim to the Scottish throne will see that?’

‘Baliol? Bruce? They must respect the true succession. Our little Maid is in the direct line of succession from Alexander and William the Lion. When the child arrives we will meet her with worthy ceremony and assurances of our concern for her welfare. She shall have a welcome place in our nurseries. She shall learn her lessons side by side with Edward.’

‘I am so glad,’ replied the Queen, ‘then when they marry they will not be strangers. I hope they will be as happy as you and I.’

‘That is asking a good deal,’ replied the King; and he noticed then that she seemed paler than usual and perhaps a little thin.

‘I think our travels were too much for you,’ he said solicitously. ‘We will now have a quieter time with the family. Our dear daughter Eleanor is such a comfort, and we still have Margaret with us and Joanna is not far away at Clerkenwell.’

‘What a joy it is to be surrounded by one’s family!’

They rode back to London, the King in good spirits and to see him so made the Queen happy for she believed that if there was peace between England and Scotland and the perpetual worry as to what was happening on the borders could be removed, now that Wales was under control, they could stay in Westminster and Windsor and be together at home. This put her in such a state of pleasure that the colour glowed again in her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with happiness so the fact that she had lost some weight was not apparent, and the King’s mind was at rest concerning her health.

What pleasure it was to rest at Clerkenwell and to see their dear Joanna do the honours of châtelaine and hostess. She glowed with pride in her new state. She was already pregnant and had assumed a new dignity. She could subdue her doting husband with a look and Edward was amused to see proud Gilbert reduced to the state of besotted lover by this imperious and lovely young daughter of his.

Clerkenwell, where the river Holeburne wound its way through green meadows and wooded hills, was a delightful spot; and the fact that the city could be seen in the distance but added to its charm.

Edward said it was wonderful that they should be in such a romantic spot and so near to London that he could if the need arose be there in a very short time.

They had returned to Westminster when the news arrived that the ship that had been sent to bring the precious child to England had arrived at Yarmouth.

‘Let us to Yarmouth without delay!’ cried the King; but he noticed that the messenger was downcast and he could not meet the King’s eyes.

‘What is it?’ he demanded, his alarm obvious. A hundred thoughts flashed into his head, each warning him of disasters. His first was that the Scottish rebels had waylaid the boat and were taking the child to Scotland.

But this was not so. This was irrevocable.

‘The Maid was very sickly, my lord,’ said the messenger. ‘When she boarded at Bergen we feared for her. The seas were rough; and she became very sick …’

‘And what happened?’ interrupted the King impatiently.

‘My lord … the child died during the voyage. The cold … the rough seas … they were too much for her. She was so frail … so delicate …’

The King turned away, fury in his heart.

This was the end of a dream which had hung on one frail child’s life.

The Queen of Scotland was dead. He could imagine what would happen in the unruly country when the news was known.