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.
Eleanor could not but find some glory in the grandeur of the occasion. On the surface there was no hint of the King’s pecuniary difficulties. All along the route people had gasped at the splendour of the royal entourage for accompanying the King were a thousand knights and each of them appeared to have attempted to outdo the others by the magnificence of his garments. Gold and silver ornaments adorned their persons and everywhere was the glitter of jewels.
None looked more splendid than the Queen, her beautiful hair gathered into a golden net, the trailing skirts of her quintise gown held lightly in her hand so that the skirt might not impede her progress.
The young King of Scots and his attendants were less elegant, but his six hundred knights, though slightly less grand than the English, made a fine spectacle.
People crowded the streets of York and there was talk of nothing but the coming wedding. Everywhere there was excitement; the only two who did not seem to share in the excitement were the two little principals.
Henry and Eleanor though were very much aware of their daughter’s ordeal and what worried them most was the fact that she must leave them.
Henry said: ‘If they make her unhappy I will wage war on them. I will make them regret it if they hurt our daughter in the smallest way!’
Eleanor put her arm through that of her husband and for a moment he was afraid that she was going to ask him to call off the marriage. It would be impossible now … even to please Eleanor.