He seemed quite pleased with the marriage and in fact he told Philippa that because his daughter was making such an insignificant marriage there was no need to supply her with the grand dowry which a prince or a king would have demanded.
In any case everything was worth while to see their daughter so happy.
The day for the celebrations of the nuptials was only a week away when Isabella came to her father and told him that she had decided not to marry after all.
Edward stared at her in amazement. Where was the happy bride of the last days? What had happened?
She flung herself into his arms and burst into tears. He sought to comfort her, asking for her reasons for this change of mind.
‘Dear father, I do not know. I only know that I cannot marry Bernard. I don’t want to marry anybody. I want to stay with you and be with you always. I cannot marry Bernard. Please understand.’
‘My dear child, everything is arranged. The ceremony is shortly to take place.’
‘I know, I know. But I cannot do it.’
The King was completely bewildered. But there was nothing to be done. The Princess was adamant.
The whole court was talking of the matter. Poor Bernard was heart-broken. He had been so deeply in love with the Princess and so enchanted with his great fortune in marrying the daughter of the King that to find himself deprived of love and honour when it seemed so nearly his sent him into the deepest melancholy.
Isabella kept her thoughts to herself. She was elated. She had done to Bernard what Louis had done to her. Her pride was vindicated. She was filled with a secret satisfaction and wondered whether she had intended all the time never to marry Bernard.
Perhaps. She had liked him very much. He was handsome, charming and she had so enjoyed stooping to his social level. He had always been so aware of the fact that she was a Princess and he a humble nobleman.
Now everyone was talking of her. They saw her in a different light from the poor jilted princess.
Moreover she was going to remain close to her father, for whatever arrangements had been made she would have had at some time to go with her husband to his estates in Gascony.
It was a piquant situation which she enjoyed thoroughly. It was particularly gratifying when Bernard declared he was weary of the world, retired to a monastery to become a cordelier monk and gave up his inheritance to a younger brother.
POITIERS
ONE of the effects of the Black Death was to make it impossible for hostilities to continue between France and England and Edward’s dream of taking the French crown had to be postponed for a while.
Philip of France, now an old man, had remarried and his bride was Blanche of Navarre, a girl of nineteen, but a few months after the wedding Philip died and his son Jean became King.
Jean wanted to put an end to Edward’s claims which he considered absurd and when an opportunity occurred which would allow someone else to help fight his battles he seized on it.
Jean realized that England’s advantage was in her superior sea power which had grown considerably after the battle of Helvoetsluys and he believed that if he could cripple that power, ultimate victory over the English would be in sight.
Alfonso of Castile, father to that Pedro the Cruel who would have been Joanna’s husband had she not died of the plague, had himself been a victim of the terrible scourge so Pedro was now King of Castile. However Pedro had had an elder brother who had died but had left a son and this son, Charles de la Cerda, maintained that he had a prior claim to the throne of Castile. Charles appealed to Jean of France for help to gain his rights and Jean implied that if he would take action against the English and show himself to be indeed the friend of France, then Jean might consider helping him to gain the crown of Castile.
Charles therefore began gathering together his ships with the object of invading England. Edward was immediately alert to the danger. So many of his sailors had died; work in the shipyards had almost stopped, and the country desperately needed peace to become prosperous again.
He fervently hoped that the Spanish fleet would not be large, for if it were he would not be able to match it. True he had beaten the French at Helvoetsluys with far fewer ships than the enemy had had. He could doubtless do it again; but he was not bent on war. How typical of Jean of France to get others to fight his battles for him!
There was nothing to be done but set out for the coast and muster as many vessels as he could. Consequently he, with the Queen and his family, set out for Canterbury.
The Black Prince, excited as he always was at the prospect of a battle, rode with his young brother, ten-year-old John of Gaunt. The Prince was very fond of this brother and when young John asked if he might be with him during the battle the Prince rashly promised that he should. The Queen, her daughters and her ladies, were to stay in Canterbury and pray for victory.
Philippa was uneasy. She hated the thought of battle and as usual suffered greatly when her family was so engaged. She would pray fervently for victory, of course, and she well knew that as the Queen of England she must expect her husband and her elder son to go to war; but she was horrified when she heard that the Black Prince was taking little John with him. She protested. ‘He is only a child,’ she cried. ‘No, Edward, I will not have it. John must remain here in Canterbury with me.’
The Black Prince laughed aloud. ‘Why, my lady, the boy has to learn how to go into battle some day.’
‘Some day,’ said Philippa, ‘but not now when he is so young.’
Young John looked stormy. He turned to his brother and; cried: ‘But you promised. Edward you promised me ...’
Edward ruffled his brother’s hair and said: ‘Don’t fret, boy. You are coming with me. Our lady mother will see that it is necessary. You would not have him a weakling, my lady?’
‘He is ten years old ...’
John drew himself up to his full height and frowned at her. The Black Prince laughed.
‘I will tell you what we will do. We will ask our father. He will tell us whether or not you are old enough to come.’ He bent towards his brother. ‘I’ll promise you he will say you are to go. He was fighting battles himself at an early age. Besides I shall be with you. You’ll not stray from my side. Swear to it.’
‘I swear,’ said John.
The King gave the verdict that the boy was old enough and Philippa knew herself beaten.
Her task would be to remain behind, to pray for them, to fret for them and she would not know peace until they came back to her.
From Sandwich the King set sail in his best loved ship, Cog Thomas. The Black Prince sailed in another ship and with him was young John of Gaunt.
They cruised along the coast looking for the Spanish fleet.
The weather was warm and misty for it was August and as there was no sign of the enemy the King sat on deck listening to his minstrels playing to him. Men were stationed at every look-out in case the Spanish should attempt to creep up on them unawares.
The prospect of battle now, as always, stimulated the King and, dressed in a black coat and black beaver hat which set off his fairness ideally, he looked young and handsome.
Suddenly from the castle on the mast there was a shout of: ‘I spy Spaniards!’
The King was on his feet.
‘Sound the trumpets,’ he cried. ‘Call every man to his duty. The hour is come.’
Hastily armour was donned and by this time the Spaniards were very close. Exhilarated because he was fighting against great odds, Edward led his fleet into the attack. They rammed the Spanish and when close enough boarded their ships.