The Vow on the Heron

THE BLACK DEATH

ON their return to England Philippa gave birth once more. This time it was a boy whom they called William. Alas, it seemed an ill-fated name for the child died very soon after his birth.

Edward comforted Philippa and begged her to look to their strong and healthy children—Edward, Lionel, John and Edmund; and there were the dear girls—his beloved Isabella, Joanna, Mary and Margaret. They could not complain. It was true they had lost that other William and little Blanche, but God had blessed them in their children.

Philippa had to admit that this was true but while she delighted in her living children she could not stop mourning those whom she had lost.

Moreover there came a time when a queen must face the parting with her daughters. If Isabella had married Louis of Flanders she would have been not so very far away. But that had come to nothing and Philippa guessed that Edward was not displeased, and Isabella was only so because she thought that the manner in which Louis had decamped after he had seen her was a slur on her alluring attractions which her father had led her to believe were irresistible.

It was now Joanna’s turn. Poor Joanna. If Philippa could be said to have favourites among her children Joanna was the best loved among the girls. She could not help doting on her magnificent first-born and she shared the general delight which amounted almost to reverence in the Black Prince, but it was Joanna who had the deepest love. She had never forgotten the terrible time the child had endured in Austria. Ever since Philippa had been trying to make up to her for that.

Now, as Edward pointed out, it was time that she married and although he hated to lose his daughter he was irritated by the prevarication of the Spaniards.

The delay was, the King suspected, brought about by Eleanora de Guzman, the mistress of the King of Spain. She was the most powerful woman at the Court for the King doted on her and she had already borne him three children. Her great hope was that the King’s son Pedro—whom Edward had decided should be Joanna’s husband—would either die or not have children so that one of her sons could inherit. It was for this reason that she was far from eager to see a marriage between Joanna and Pedro and it was contriving to delay matters.

But even the powerful Eleanora could not prevent indefinitely the marriage of the King’s son.

The Joanna who prepared for her journey to Spain and marriage was different from the little girl who had gone to Austria. She was at this time in her fourteenth year and had known for some time that sooner or later she should have to leave home. She had seen Isabella return from Flanders and had heard the story of Louis’s hasty departure. And here was Isabella back in London. So marriages were not to be considered definite until they actually took place. Anything could happen to prevent them right at the last moment. She considered Isabella—only a week from taking her final vows!

In the meantime she must prepare herself for Spain.

Philippa was uneasy. She could imagine the intrigues of the Spanish court with the doting King and his mistress who wanted to see her son Henry of Trastamarre on the throne. She wondered how her Joanna would fare in such an atmosphere. Her children had lived a happy life which was rare in royal circles. She herself had enjoyed such a life in Hainault but how different Edward’s childhood had been! Sometimes she wondered whether a pleasant and secure childhood helped a child to face the world.

Perhaps she had not done so badly; but then she had married the man whom she loved on sight and Edward was a remarkable man; he was a good father although inclined to spoil his daughters; he was a loving husband although at times his eyes strayed to other women. But he was anxious to be a faithful husband and she believed that he was.

But now for Joanna. She must prepare to leave for Spain and Philippa prayed every night for the child’s happiness. She had heard uneasy rumours not only of the intrigues of Eleanora de Guzman but of signs of cruelty in young Pedro. It was said that he liked inflicting pain on animals and, if he could manage it, on his fellow human beings. Was it really true? One heard so much that was false. Oh yes, she prayed constantly for Joanna.

Joanna was resigned to the fact that she would soon be sailing. Isabella was a little jealous. With envy she fingered the robe of tissue of gold with matching mantle and sur-tunic which was for Joanna’s wedding. Isabella liked all the attention and the fine clothes to be for herself.

‘How fine you will look! ‘ she cried caressing the gowns of scarlet purple and velvet, the ermines and zones adorned with beautiful jewels. ‘But,’ she went on, ‘I would rather be at home. I am glad I didn’t marry into Flanders.’

‘I would rather be home too,’ said Joanna wistfully.

‘You will be a Queen though—Queen of Castile. Think of that ‘

But the thought did not give Joanna any great joy.

‘I never thought Louis of Flanders was good enough for me,’ went on Isabella. ‘I’ll swear that I shall have a king for a husband, one day.’

Joanna turned away and took up her embroidering. It gave her great comfort. As she stitched at it she revelled in the beautiful coloured silks and thought of the happy days she had had in the heart of her family.

In January she set out on her journey. The King, the Queen and her sister Isabella accompanied her from the Palace of Westminster as far as Mortlake. There they took a last farewell and both the King and Queen were overcome with their emotion. It seemed to the Queen that Isabella could always look after herself but Joanna was more vulnerable.

The Princess continued her journey across the country to Plymouth, the port from which she was to set sail.

There followed a stay of five weeks in the town, for the wind was such as to make the sea-crossing dangerous and it was the middle of March before Joanna and her entourage left England.

Seven days later she reached Bordeaux.

It was necessary to remain there while negotiations went on between the Courts of Spain and England, for Edward was very suspicious of a Court which was under the spell of such an ambitious woman as Eleanora de Guzman. So eager was she to prevent a child being born who could oust her son that she was using every means she knew to delay the marriage. She was trying to persuade Alfonso to choose a different bride for his son. On the other hand the Queen of Castile, who was as eager to outwit her husband’s mistress as the mistress was to put her own son on the throne, was anxious to bring about the union with England. Between the two Alfonso appeared to have no will of his own.

Edward was determined that Joanna should not go into Spain until everything was signed and sealed and there was no question of a marriage between his daughter and the heir to Castile being postponed or stopped altogether.

He had had one daughter jilted. He was not going to allow this to happen to another.

It was therefore necessary for Joanna to remain in Bordeaux until the King was perfectly satisfied that her marriage would take place.

The castle was set in very pleasant surroundings; from her windows Joanna could look out to wooded hills and vineyards and after the cold months in Plymouth and the sea-crossing she was not displeased to remain awhile in this pleasant spot. She would sit with her women while she worked with her needle and as she derived great pleasure from this occupation she was not unhappy.

If the negotiations took a year she would not mind. She was not by any means looking forward to continuing her journey.

So she and her women sat and talked and one day while they were at this pleasant pastime one of them said: ‘I heard yesterday that a terrible disease is spreading across Europe. It started in Constantinople and is quickly coming to the sea ports.’

‘There are always these stories,’ said Joanna placidly.

‘True my lady, but they did say that this is the most terrible that has ever been seen before.’

‘Strange things happen in far away places,’ said another.

‘I like this blue silk,’ said Joanna. ‘But perhaps it is not quite the right shade. What think you?’

The ladies put their heads together and concerned themselves with the selection of blue silk.

It was not long before the whole world was talking in terror of the fearful pestilence which had passed by way of Armenia into Asia Minor to Egypt and North Africa; this had started in the east and as it passed from country to country it left behind a trail of horror and death.

People talked of it in hushed whispers and prayed that it would never come their way but each day brought accounts of death creeping nearer. It had reached Greece and Italy and was still creeping on.

It seemed that once a man or woman noticed the first symptoms—a discoloured swelling beneath the armpits--he or she was doomed and only a miracle could save them. Those who were afflicted were not left long in doubt. In a matter of hours more swellings would occur and the victims would cough blood, suffer from violent thirst before they mercifully fell into a coma after which death quickly followed. The only merciful aspect in this dreaded pestilence was the speed with which victims died. It had an unpleasant aftermath for no sooner was the sufferer dead than black patches would appear on the skin and the odour which emanated from the corpse would be suffocatingly obnoxious. This in itself would pass on the infection. Animals died from it; it was highly infectious and devastatingly contagious. And as it became increasingly difficult to dispose of the bodies, the disease spread with alarming rapidity. Once it came to a village or a town that place was doomed.

The plague was talked of all over Europe, for the fact that it had reached Greece and Italy sobered many people.

Edward assured Philippa that it could not come to England. The water would save them. He was flushed with victory at this time. He had Helvoetsluys and Crécy behind him and now Calais. He could afford to sit back and contemplate his successes.

His love of display did not diminish as he grew older. He wanted more Round Table tournaments, more jousting in which he could show himself as the champion of his people.

There was nothing he loved more than to sit under the royal canopy with his Queen and their children and watch the jousting. Better still he liked to take part in it, and to show himself as the champion.

How they cheered him. His people loved him. The way had not been difficult for him. He had followed a king who had earned the revulsion of his people and his reign was not so long ago so that many of them could remember how a country suffered through an unworthy King. Even his grandfather Edward the First had never been quite so popular. This vain trait in Edward which made him long for splendid show and entertainments appealed to his people for they shared in them; and to see their King looking exactly as they believed a king should look and to have him winning great victories over the French pleased them. They were content with their Edward.

At this time, he told Philippa he was going to create an order which he would bestow on only a few knights who were worthy of it. The idea had been in his mind since the victory of Crécy when certain of his subjects had distinguished themselves by their selfless service to their country.

He believed there should be some recognition for such people and he was brooding on the matter.

Meanwhile there must be more tournaments, more Court festivities, to remind the people that all was going well with their King and country. His victories in France needed celebrating and he had been so long before Calais he should show his people how pleased he was to be home among them. He wanted to see gallant knights and beautiful ladies dancing together.

The most beautiful of all the ladies at Court was Joan, known as the Fair Maid of Kent.

She was now nineteen years of age at the height of her beauty. She was more or less betrothed to William Earl of Salisbury but was very friendly with Sir Thomas Holland and the Prince of Wales was clearly not indifferent to her. The Black Prince was two years younger than Joan but it was noted that although he seemed friendly with her he would ignore her for long periods of time and this did not please the Court’s leading beauty.

She was royal, her father having been the son of Edward the First, and although princes often had to marry into different countries to consolidate alliances, if the Black Prince had really wanted to marry his kinswoman it seemed hardly likely that Edward and Philippa—always indulgent where their children were concerned—would not have allowed the marriage to take place.

However there was no mention of it and the Black Prince, although he was clearly attracted by the beautiful Joan and often referred to her as ‘Little Jeanette’, did not show any sign of wishing to marry her. It was true he was only seventeen years of age but that was old enough to marry and rumour had it that he was not a virgin.

Joan was a clever girl as well as a beautiful one. She was greatly attracted by Thomas Holland who could offer her the least; she did not greatly care for Salisbury; and she liked the Prince of Wales. If the latter had suggested marriage she would have put aside the other two at once, for naturally she would have been delighted at the prospect of becoming the Queen of England in due course.

Everyone expected her to marry Salisbury as she had been contracted to him in her youth; but of course if the Prince of Wales wanted to marry her a dispensation could easily be acquired.

Courted as she was by the ardent Holland and Salisbury she was extremely put out by the indifferent conduct of the Prince. She was of a passionate nature and she quickly realized that she was not the sort to wait indefinitely in the hope of catching the big fish. She was a woman who would have to content herself with the lesser catch.

Thomas Holland had been with her in one of her moments of pique. He had declared his undying affection for her and embraced her in a most familiar manner to which it was quite obvious she was not averse. Indeed the dashing Thomas aroused in her emotions which for all her ambition she found it impossible to control.

It was unthinkable that a lady of her royalty should become his mistress so, having succumbed to him and found the experience very much to her liking, she had agreed to a secret marriage and when she came to Court to partake in the royal festivities she was in fact already married to Sir Thomas Holland.

Sir Thomas had been obliged to leave her soon after the ceremony to go to France and he was still there among those who were guarding Calais for the King.

Joan was therefore receiving the attentions of Salisbury and now and then catching the eye of the Prince of Wales who was so warm and friendly one day and the next seemed to have forgotten her existence.

The King had on several occasions asked her to sit beside him and it was becoming clear that he had great admiration for her. So had many others and she was used to admiration but she was certainly gratified to receive it from such a quarter.

The possibility of becoming Queen of England had often occurred to Joan but it would not of course be through Edward the King. She was not prepared to be a royal mistress—not that it would have got so far with Edward. She had heard rumours about the Countess of Salisbury whom she had known very well—she had at one time resided with her because it had been planned that that very beautiful and most virtuous lady should be her mother-in-law—and that affair had come to nothing. Edward, thought Joan cynically, had been unwise to choose such a virtuous woman as the Countess, but of course Catharine de Montacute was an exceptionally beautiful creature. Old though, thought Joan complacently.

And the Queen had never been handsome. She was fresh- complexioned with a pleasant expression, that was all; and now constant child-bearing had spoilt her figure and she was really far too portly.

Joan revelled in the admiration of those about her and particularly that of the King and then there was of course William the Earl of Salisbury who really believed she was still betrothed to him.

What a tangle her affairs had got into. She wondered what Salisbury would say if he knew that she and Thomas had already lived together.

Meanwhile she would snap her fingers at the future while she tried to captivate the Black Prince rather than his father. The Prince was the one who could put a crown on her head. But what about Thomas? She would arrange something when the time came. When the time came! What a strange man the Prince was. He did not seem as though he wanted to entangle himself in marriage—though as heir to the throne he must think of giving the country a future king.

Sometimes Joan felt furious with herself for having given way to Thomas. What she could lose by it! Oh, but she was clever. She would wriggle out of that if she needed to. How did one wriggle out of a marriage contract? There was such a thing as divorce and dispensation from the Pope. She was sure it could be managed. The real obstacle was the indifference of that laggardly lover the Black Prince.

Edward the King was in his element. The Round Tower which he had built at Windsor was the ideal place in which to hold his Round Table. He had had it built on an artificial mound surrounded by a deep fosse. The interior was approached by a flight of one hundred steps and there were more steps up to the battlements of the Keep. It was a most impressive sight and Edward was proud of it.

He allowed David of Scotland to join the revelry. David was his prisoner and would remain so until the enormous ransom Edward was demanding was paid. Edward had deliberately fixed it so highly because he knew that only while David was his prisoner could he be sure of peace in Scotland. However David was royal; he was his brother-in-law and a King. Edward wanted him to have all the amenities possible except complete freedom. David was at liberty to hunt and hawk in the forests but he was always surrounded by guards He seemed to have become accustomed to being an exile from his country and as he lived in comfort he did not find this irksome. He had been in France for seven years, had reigned in Scotland for five and had at this time been for nearly two years the prisoner of Edward. He saw no sign of that captivity ending for he knew the money for his release could not be raised.

He did not bemoan his fate. He did not lack luxury. He was the guest one might say of the King of England and if he were allowed to partake in such festivities as these now proceeding at the Round Tower of Windsor, he would not complain too bitterly.

He enjoyed the jousting and the feasting, the dancing and the music.

Moreover he had several mistresses. He was a deeply sensuous man and the virtuous Joanna to whom they had married him was not cast in a mould to please him. Often he chose his women from the more lowly classes. He took great pleasure in them.

At the joust he met a woman to whom he felt immediately attracted. Her name was Katherine Mortimer; she was voluptuous, beautiful and experienced.

They were together through the days and nights of the tournament.

It had been a day of brilliant jousting. The King was in an excellent mood. He gave himself up completely to the banquet and the ball. He seemed to have forgotten that there was merely a lull in the fight for the crown of France; he gave no thought to the terrible pestilence which even as he and his guests danced crept nearer and nearer.

If Philippa thought of these things she tried not to show it. Edward so much enjoyed them and as she watched him indulging in his pleasure she was tender towards him as she was towards Isabella who sat with her parents, splendid in her glittering garments, so very pleased to be with them—which was good for Philippa had feared that a proud girl like Isabella might have taken her jilting to heart.

Of course there were occasional whispers about the King’s roving eye. Philippa herself knew that he took a great delight in beautiful women. She had seen his eyes follow them and they seemed to take on a deeper blue as he did so. She knew of the Countess of Salisbury. Good Catharine de Montacute whose sound sense had brought the King back to his. Poor Catharine she was ailing, Philippa had heard; she never came to Court, nor had she since that affair which had been followed so soon by the death of her husband.

No doubt she had deemed it wise—and indeed so it had proved.

And now there was the willowy enchanting girl—Joan of Kent. Romantic because of her father’s cruel murder and royal too, and the most beautiful girl at Court. It was small wonder that Edward should take pleasure in looking at her, for she was indeed an enchanting sight and would have been as outstanding in this assembly among the magnificently attired ladies if she had been clad as a goose girl.

Edward was dancing with her and suddenly there was consternation for lying on the floor at the feet of Joan of Kent was her garter.

There was a sudden titter throughout the hall. Joan flushed slightly. Joan was not the most modest of ladies and the assumption could not be dismissed that she had deliberately dropped the garter. Could it really be an invitation to the King?

Philippa thought: How foolish! As if she would do it that way if it were.

Edward had picked up the garter. He held it in his hands almost caressingly then he looked round the room and caught the expressions on the faces of many who were watching.

For a few seconds there was silence. Then the King attached the Garter to his own knee and in a loud ringing voice he said: ‘Evil be to him who evil thinks.’

He took Joan’s hand and the dance continued. When it was over he addressed the company and said:

‘You have seen the garter and I shall now do honour to it. The garter is an old symbol of honour in the chivalry of our land. My great ancestor, Richard Coeur de Lion, ordered the bravest of his knights to wear it at the storming of Acre. Those knights excelled in valour and bravery and they became known as the Knights of the Blue Thong. It is a story which is handed down in the annals of chivalry. Now I shall name my new order the Order of the Garter and because it is an intimate article of apparel and I have seen such looks upon your faces which please me not, there shall be a motto writ on the garter and this shall be “Honi soit qui mal y pense.” This honour shall be the highest in English knighthood and there shall be no more than twenty-five knights of the Garter expecting members of my family and illustrious foreigners.’

There was loud applause and the King was engrossed for days after deciding how the order should be presented and of what it should consist.

It was decided that the installations should take place in the Chapel at Windsor and that the badge of the Order should be a gold medallion representing St George and the Dragon suspended on a blue ribbon. The garter should be of dark blue velvet and worn on the left leg just below the knoc. Chief of all was the inscription.

And the revelries of the Round Tower were remembered from then on not because of the champions of the joust or the great feasting that had ensued but because the Fair Maid of Kent had dropped her garter at the King’s feet and so established the finest order of chivalry.

While the Court was revelling in its pleasure, tragedy was preparing to strike the Royal family.

The Princess Joanna was awaiting the summons to leave Bordeaux for Castile; she expected this every day and suffered a certain apprehension. She had already learned what it felt to be far away from home, to miss her family, to find that there was not the same warmth to be expected from others as there had been from her beloved parents.

Sometimes she heard her women whispering and she knew it was of her future husband. Every night she used to pray that she would not have to go to Castile. Something would happen as it had in Austria and she would be returned to her parents.

Marriage sometimes seemed to be elusive. Look what had happened to Isabella. She had been within a week of becoming a bride and her future husband had run away. There was a hope, of course, that some obstacle would prevent her own marriage. She had heard that there were people at the Court there who did not want her.

Perhaps this time next year I shall be back in Windsor, she thought wistfully.

She found great comfort in her needlework. How soothing it was to watch the silken pictures grow. She loved the soft colours and chose them with care. Her women liked to work with her and they talked as they worked.

They were all happy here in Bordeaux; the trees were so beautiful during the summer months and they had watched them bud and blossom. Joanna said that she would like to embroider a picture of the scene from the castle window so that when she looked at it, when she was an old woman, she would remember the time she had spent in this enchanting spot.

‘One day,’ she said, ‘I shall look out of this window and see messengers arriving. They will bring commands from my father. Then I shall leave here and this period will be over ...’

‘You must not be sad, my lady,’ replied one of her women. ‘You will become a great lady.’

She did not answer. A shiver ran through her. If it had not been for her experiences in Austria she might have been hopeful. She thought of Isabella’s going to her marriage. How excited she had been. But then she had been quite happy to return home.

A messenger had come to the castle. Joanna was aware of a certain activity below. Almost immediately one of the attendants appeared.

‘My ladies, you must prepare to leave at once. The plague has come to Bordeaux.’

With a few of her women Joanna left the castle for the little village of Loremo.

It had been decided that villages were safer than towns and in any case Bordeaux would be a stricken city in less than a week.

The ladies were subdued. They thanked God for their escape. They tried to settle to their needlework but all the time they were thinking of the dreaded pestilence which people were beginning to call the Black Death because the victims were covered in big putrefying black spots which continued after their death.

It was not easy to work on these beautiful silks and not see the horrors of reality. People stricken with the disease died so quickly that those who remained were unable to bury them and they had to be thrown into pits. To come within sight of a person dead of the plague was the height of danger.

Thank God, said her women, that we had good warning and left Bordeaux.

But one day when Joanna sat over her embroidery a certain lassitude came over her. The brilliant blue of her silk turned dark; the tapestry receded and slipped from her hands.

Her women were bending over her. She heard the voices that seemed to come from far away.

‘Our lady is unwell.’

Then the piercing cry: ‘Oh, God in Heaven, it cannot be, Oh no ... no ... It must not be.’

They carried her to her bed. They stared at her in horror for there was blood on her lips and the black patches were beginning to form.

The plague had come to the village of Loremo and its first victim was the Princess Joanna.

Philippa was overcome with grief when the news reached her. She shut herself into her chamber that she might be alone with sorrow.

Her little daughter, her beloved Joanna who had always been so loving and affectionate ... dead. She had been uneasy about her for she had heard whispers of the nature of the young man who was to be her husband and young though he was, she had heard people were beginning to speak of him as Pedro the Cruel. Joanna had suffered enough in her very early childhood when she had been sent to Austria. Poor Joanna, she seemed ill fated. Something told Philippa that the child would be better dead than the wife of Pedro the Cruel.

But perhaps she was merely trying to comfort herself.

Edward came to her and they mourned together. Edward loved his children as devotedly as she did and he had a special love for his girls. Joanna had never been quite such a favourite with him as Isabella but he had loved Joanna dearly and her death had shaken him deeply.

‘We must remember that we have others, my love,’ he told her. ‘We have been singularly blessed in our family.’

She bowed her head. It was true. They had their family. She had been a fruitful wife to Edward and she was glad of that. Edward was thinking the same thing as he put h is arm about her.

Dear Philippa who had been so unswervingly good to him. He loved her dearly but he was finding that his attention was being attracted more and more by younger women.

The constant child-bearing had made its mark on the Queen. She was becoming so plump that she was finding it less easy to move about. In the past she had been at his side whenever possible. Now there were occasions when she was unable to make long journeys.

He had always been a man of strong desires and they did not diminish because he was getting older and his good wife was no longer young. He loved Philippa; he was grateful for philippa; he would have chosen no other if he could do that now. She was his dear wife and the mother of his children; but that did not prevent his attention straying to other women.

He believed in the sanctity of marriage; he wanted to be a faithful husband; but even though he was no longer young, he was as virile as ever. He was outstandingly good-looking; he was undoubtedly the leader of any gathering he happened to be in; his love of magnificence only added to his attractiveness; and of course there was the aura of royalty. It did not make it any easier for him to suppress his natural desires when it was clear that there would be little opposition from the objects of them.

He was gentle and tender with Philippa, the more so because of these faithless thoughts which were becoming more and more difficult to suppress.

But in a week or so after the news of Joanna’s death there was little time or inclination to think of anything but the terrible affliction.

The Black Death had come to England. It first attacked in the west of the country on the coast of Dorset, brought by a sailor from the Continent. It spread rapidly and in a week had come as far as Bristol. It was only a matter of time before it reached London.

The capital provided the perfect conditions in which it could flourish. The overcrowded houses and streets, the filthy gutters infested by rats, were the best breeding ground possible.

There was no one to look after the sufferers. They were left to die and their foul-smelling corpses gave off such offensive odours that to come near them meant almost certain death.

People sought to escape from the crowded towns and the roads were full of men and children taking with them all they could carry on packhorses and donkeys. Some remained to do what they could and it was agreed that the bodies must be buried. Sir Walter de Manny then bought a piece of ground called Spittle Croft because it had belonged to the masters and brethren of St Bartholomew’s Spittle. It consisted of about thirteen acres. Pits were dug here and the dead buried. Within a year it was rumoured that fifty thousand bodies lay there. It was enclosed by a high stone wall to shut in the pestilence which continued to rage through England.

It seemed to many that the end of man was in sight. ‘This is God’s revenge on mankind,’ said the pious. Towns were deserted; hamlets lost every one of their inhabitants; ships floated aimlessly along the coast until a storm carried them off for ever; the reason was that every member of their crews had succumbed to the plague.

Frightened people looked round for scapegoats and as was customary in such cases on the Continent the Jews were blamed. It was said that they had poisoned the wells and springs with concoctions of their own distillation from spiders, owls and other such venomous animals. Many were tortured and as was to be expected in cases of extreme agony confessed to what was wanted.

Some more discerning people had discovered that it was the ships which carried the plague from one place to another because it always appeared first in the ports; but none realized that the carriers of the disease were the rats which were infested with vermin. In due course the traffic between countries was so slight because of the diminished world population that the plague began to disappear.

But the prosperity which had existed in the country was no more. There was no one to till the fields. Labourers were so scarce that they demanded higher wages. There would be inevitable famine and even though the population was decreased there would not be enough corn to meet its needs.

The belief that doom was staring them in the face had different effects on certain people. Some lived riotously indulging in sexual activities with an almost pious air because as they said it was necessary to be fruitful and replenish the earth as soon as possible. To Hungary and Germany came religious fanatics who called themselves the Brethren of the Cross. When they came to England they were known as the Flagellants. They declared that they would take upon themselves the sins of the people which had brought Divine vengeance on the world in the form of the plague. They marched through the streets in dark robes with red crosses on the front of them and on the black caps they wore. They carried scourges tied in knots with points of iron fixed on them. People flocked to hear them preach and to follow them. They were forbidden to have anything to do with women and if they did and were caught were sentenced to several lashes of the scourge.

Every day at an agreed hour they marched through the streets, when they threw off their robes so that the top half of their bodies were naked and they whipped each other as they went along. When they reached a certain spot they lay down one by one, each man before he lay giving the one who had lain before him a lash from his whip.

People watched them in awe, many joined them for it seemed to be a noble thing to take on the sins of the world. Some said that the plague was subsiding due to their efforts.

Edward, thankful that he and his family had escaped the pestilence—apart from Joanna—gave himself up to restoring the prosperity to the country.

He saw that it was impossible to pay the labourers the wages they were now demanding and the fields must be tilled; work must continue and because there were fewer people to perform these tasks it would be disastrous to the country if the high wages they were demanding were to be paid.

He acted promptly and brought in the Statute of Labourers. In this it was laid out that :

‘Because a great part of the people and especially workmen and servants have died of the pestilence, many, seeing the necessity of masters and great scarcity of servants will not serve unless they receive excessive wages and some are rather willing to live in idleness rather than labour to get their living; we, considering the grievous incommodities which a lack of ploughmen and such labourers has brought on us ordain :

‘That every man and woman of our realm in England of what condition he be and within the age of three score years, not exercising any craft, be bounded to serve him which shall require him; and take only the wages which was accustomed to be given in such places ...

That saddlers, skinners, cordwainers, tailors, smiths, carpenters, masons, tilers, shipwrights and carters and all other workmen shall not take their labour above the same that was wont to be paid; and if any take more he shall be committed to gaol.

‘That butchers, fishmongers, hostellers, brewers and other sellers of victuals shall be bound to sell the same for a reasonable price so that the sellers have moderate gains but not excessive.’

Gradually the country settled down to its normal routine. The greatly depleted population striving to make it the prosperous country it had been before the plague had struck.

Many children were born during the following months and this was taken as a sign that God’s anger was appeased. The Flagellants swore that they were responsible and went about the streets beating themselves in ecstasy.

But with the plague fading away and so much work to be done, the people lost interest in the Brothers of the Cross.

They were now anxious to return to prosperity. They noticed that many women bore twins and more frequently than ever before some of them produced triplets.

‘The bad times are over,’ declared the people. ‘God is smiling on us again.’