"Oh, mother! mother! can this be true?"
Many months passed before the crude suggestion of the young Infantes was
worked by the King and his ministers into a practicable form; and it is
not necessary here to enter into all the considerations of policy and
prudence that were involved. In spite of many feints and pretences
hardly worthy of so liberal a prince as Dom Joao, the Moorish sovereign
became aware of his intentions, and sent offers of splendid presents to
the Queen for her young daughter, if she would intercede with her
husband and preserve peace.
"My daughter," said Queen Philippa, "has jewels enough of her own. I
know not your customs; but with us, wives do not interfere with their
husbands' business."
So, after much discussion to and fro, the fleets were prepared, the army
gathered together, and the King determined to take the command of the
expedition. Still, the foremost places were to be given to his three
sons, who would thus have every opportunity of earning worthily their
long-deferred knighthood.
Joao and Fernando were too young for any such hopes, and, to their great
disappointment, were forbidden to take any part in the expedition at
all, but were to remain at home with their mother. Joao consoled
himself with planning future feats of marvellous bravery; but Fernando,
who had relied on Duarte's promise, was pronounced naughty and
rebellious, and received double tasks, because he would not submit
patiently to his father's decision. His conscience was very tender, and
he learnt the hard lessons diligently, and repented of his fault, while
he pondered over the tales of boy-martyrs and child-crusaders, which,
though held up to his admiration, it seemed so impossible, and even so
wrong, to imitate. It was much harder simply to do as he was told; but
Fernando did his best, and practised patience.
The time was drawing near for the expedition to start, when one morning
the little boy was sitting by himself in a room in the palace of Lisbon
which was devoted to the studies of the young princes. Fernando sat on
a bench by the great oak table, employed in what a boy would now call
"doing his sums"--that is to say, he was working out, in the cumbrous
method of the time, a somewhat abstruse mathematical problem. There was
no ornament to the bare wall, but a great crucifix over the high
fireplace; the window was high up in the wall, offering no temptation to
wandering eyes; and the only spot of colour in the room was the crimson
dress and long fair hair of the little prince as he bent over his task.
Fernando shared in some degree the strong mathematical turn of his elder
brothers, and did not find his work uninteresting, though it strained
his boyish powers to the utmost. His brothers were engaged in
preparations for war, and his mother and sister Isabel were at a place
called Saccavem with the chief part of the court. The little boys had
been left behind with their tutors.
Suddenly the door was flung open, and Enrique, dusty and travel-stained,
and with a face pale as death, came in. Fernando sprang up with a cry
of joy, but his brother's look silenced him. Enrique took him into his
arms and sat down on the bench.
"I have come to fetch you, Fernando," he said, huskily. "Be a brave
boy; do not cry. You and Joao must come to mother, for she is ill at
Saccavem, and--and--I must take you to her."
Fernando was more frightened by his brother's look of anguish than by
his words, which were too new and strange to be more than half
comprehended, and there was little time for the indulgence of grief.
Enrique hurried their preparations, and soon the two boys were riding
beside him, with but a few followers, hardly realising, in the haste of
their journey, what awaited them at the end of it.
For the good Queen Philippa was dying, and the children must lose her
motherly care--her encouragement of all their efforts after goodness and
learning. High aims and kindly ways she had alike set before them; by
her own example she had taught them the severest self-denial in the
midst of the state necessary for the support of their rank: and the old
chronicles tell--us that her five sons owed to her tender training much
of the deep religious feeling, the loyalty to their father and to each
other, the strong mutual affection and the remarkable virtue, that
afterwards distinguished them. "She constantly talked with them of
their duties towards their father and to the state," and, spite of the
stiff and ceremonious manners of the times, they loved her tenderly, and
showed their love; and for her dear sake, her English habits, opinions,
and language became dear to her husband and children, and largely
influenced the development of her adopted country.
She lay on her death-bed in the palace of Saccavem. Her ladies stood
weeping round, her confessor was by her side, the low chanting of the
priests who had been praying for her departing soul had ceased for the
time, and before receiving the last Sacraments of the Church she had
desired to take leave of all her children.
Joao and Fernando, as they entered awe-struck into the dim chamber, were
clasped and held back by their sobbing sister, who knelt at some
distance from the high dais on which the Queen's bed was placed. She
lay raised high on her pillows, and on the silken coverlet beside her
were three swords, their jewelled scabbards catching here and there the
light of the lamp.
The King sat near her, his head resting on his hand, his elder sons
standing behind his chair, and at the further end of the long room
several people were kneeling, sadly watching the dying Queen--her
English squires, and other members of her household, to whom she had
been the most faithful of friends. All was silent, save for the sounds
of weeping that could not be repressed.
"My sons, come hither," suddenly said the Queen; and the five brothers
came slowly forward and stood beside her, Fernando following the rest in
a sort of trance of awe and bewilderment.
"My sons!" said Philippa, in a clear and audible voice, "you all know
well that my blessing goes with you in your undertaking."
"Alas, dear wife?" said the King, weeping, "it will be long before your
sons or I have heart for any such enterprise."
"Not so," said the Queen, heartily; "you will sail, I doubt not, on
Saint James's Day, and the fair wind I feel in my face from the casement
will fill your sails and blow you to victory."
The King could not answer; but he felt as if Saint James's Day might
come and go before he could take the field, in his great grief.
"My sons!" again said Philippa, "it has pleased me well that you have so
earnestly desired to earn your spurs by real service, and especially
against the enemies of Holy Church; for pretences and empty forms are
unworthy of princes. Therefore, I have caused to be made these swords,
which ye will draw, I trust, in many a good fight in a good cause, and
never against your sovereign or each other. Duarte, the time will come
when you must use this sword in defence of your subjects; see that you
rule them with justice, and make their happiness your highest good.
And, my son, be kind to your brothers, to Isabel, and to Fernando; he is
weakly and young--"
"Always, dear mother, so help me God and the Holy Saints," said Duarte,
kneeling and kissing her hand.
"Pedro, you are brave and strong; let it be ever your part to do a
knight's duty, in defending the weak and helpless,--fight for the
oppressed. And Enrique, our soldiers love you, as my good father and
uncle were loved; look ever to their welfare, nor ever regard them as
churls and their deaths of no account."
"Oh, mother, mother, give us swords too!" cried Joao, pressing forward
as his brothers faintly promised all that was asked of them.
"Alas! my little boys," said the mother, for the first time faltering,
"I have no swords for you. I had thought to keep you with me longer.
Alas! what will become of you! Love God, and serve Him. What better
can I say?"
Then gentle Duarte drew first Joao and then Fernando up to the bed-side
for their mother's kiss. Joao sobbed aloud; but Fernando remembered how
his mother had blamed him for his tears, and shed none; while in his
childish heart was the thought that he too would one day be worthy of a
good knight's sword.
Then the Queen commended her daughter to the King's care, and bid him
choose a good husband for her, that her lot might be happy, as her
mother's had been before her; and then she grew worse, and her speech
failed her; and Joao and Fernando were sent away into another room.
The fair wind of which the Queen had spoken blew into their faces as the
two boys, so soon to be motherless, crouched up in the window and looked
out at the sunset, feeling less wretched so than in the dark. It was
not long before they heard a movement, and sounds of weeping and
lamenting; but no one came near them, and they were afraid to stir.
"Let us say our prayers," suggested Fernando: and they knelt down in the
fading light; but it seemed an endless time before Enrique came in to
them.
"Have you been here alone?" he said. "Ah, there is no one now to care
for us. Our mother is dead."
Enrique's voice was stifled with grief; but Joao flung himself up
against him, Fernando laid his head on his shoulder; both feeling their
worst misery softened by the mere presence of their kind, strong
brother.