When they set sail and it was all so new and exciting Joanna forgot where they were going; she loved the sea and her pallet bed and in spite of her apprehension it was all very interesting.

It was a hot July day when the party landed in Antwerp. There was no royal residence where they could lodge and a Flemish merchant of the name of Sirkyn Fordul offered them shelter. He was very honoured, he said, to have them in his house and he and his wife set about entertaining them in as royal a fashion as they could.

It was an exciting adventure for the little Joanna especially when in the night she was awakened by her mother who snatched her up in her arms and ran with her out of the house. Joanna clung to her mother in terror; the smoke choked her and she could scarcely breathe until she was out in the cold night air in her mother’s arms, and her father was beside them. The house in which they were spending the night was a mass of burning timber.

Then Joanna saw hooded figures coming towards them. It was an abbot with his monks who suggested that the royal party should go with them to their convent of St Michael where they could shelter for the rest of the night.

To Joanna it seemed like a strange dream—all part of the adventure of going to a husband. Philippa was most distressed because of the disaster their coming had caused Sirkyn Fordul and his wife, for the conflagration had been started because of all the fires they had had to make to deal with cooking for so large a number. Edward comforted her and assured her that he would repay them for all the damage and then the worthy couple would have enough money to build a new house.

It was an unfortunate beginning to the adventure and Edward was worried about Philippa who had become pregnant again. Had it not been that she had insisted on accompanying Joanna to her new country he would have persuaded her to stay in England.

The next few days were spent in Antwerp where they were able to take trips along the river Scheldt and to visit the town and its many churches.

Edward was greatly concerned because he knew that he needed allies on whom he could rely and he had heard that Louis of Bavaria was wavering and might well decide to become the ally of the King of France.

‘I must see him and talk to him,’ he told Philippa. ‘I can at the same time take Joanna into Austria.’

‘I will go with you,’ said Philippa.

‘My dearest, remember your condition. I trembled for you during the fire. That sort of thing is not good for the child.’ Philippa had to agree with this.

‘You may trust me,’ he said, ‘to look after our daughter. I think it is better for her to part from one of us now and the other later. It will break the shock of losing us both together.’

Philippa agreed that this might be so; and indeed she was feeling the usual discomforts of pregnancy which were not helped by the hardships travel necessarily imposed.

An idea had occurred to her. ‘I will write to Margaret,’ she said, ‘and ask her to keep an eye on Joanna.’

It seemed an excellent idea for Philippa’s elder sister Margaret was now the wife of Louis of Bavaria.

This soothed Philippa’s maternal heart considerably. And they set out for Herenthals where they would rest a night before the parting when Edward and Joanna would go on to Bavaria and Philippa would return to Antwerp to await the birth of her child.

There was no place at Herenthals worthy of their rank and they were lodged at the house of one of the peasants. Overcome by the honour done to them Podenot de Lippe and his wife Catherine, realizing that their house would not hold so many people, decided that the only thing they could do was to serve supper in the garden.

This appeared to be an excellent idea until it was seen that the grass and the plants were ruined by the press of people for not only were there the attendants in the royal party but crowds who came in to pay their respects to them.

The crestfallen faces of Podenot and Catherine de Lippe were so reproachful that Edward immediately offered to compensate them for the damage done, so it turned out to be a very expensive supper party.

However there were other matters of greater concern to them for it was time now for Philippa to take leave of her daughter. The child clung to her mother and Philippa found it difficult to restrain her tears.

‘Your father is still with you, my love,’ she said. ‘There is a long time for you two to be together. I shall think of you every day. I shall pray for you and I know that you will be happy in your new country. Your aunt Margaret will be there. She will look after you. You remember my telling you of my sister Margaret and all the fun we used to have together when we were children in Hainault.’

Joanna nodded mournfully and Edward lifted her in his arms and kissed her.

‘You will be safe with me, daughter,’ he told her tenderly. Philippa watched until the cavalcade was out of sight; then sorrowfully she returned to Antwerp.


* * *

Joanna was young enough to enjoy the journey and forget what was waiting for her at the end of it. She adored her father. He was always kind to her; he loved all his children dearly but had always been more inclined to favour his daughters and since he knew that the parting with her mother had so upset Joanna he made every effort to compensate her for the loss. So at times Joanna was quite happy. It was exciting to ride on her little horse beside this magnificent man who Was her father and to see how everyone paid great respect to him—and to her, simply because she was his daughter. They rode with sixty-six archers who made an impressive show and then there were their personal servants so they were a large company.

The scenery was beautiful. Joanna loved sailing up the Rhine while her father pointed out the castles on the banks and the rock on which the Lorelei had lured sailors to their destruction. She did not fear them because her father was by her side and she was sure he would get the better of anyone—even Lorelei.

At Bonn they landed and there were the guests of the Archbishop of Cologne who had his residence there. They had a peaceful night there and then went on staying at various places where they were entertained and feted until they came to Coblenz where the Emperor Louis himself was waiting for them. With him were the various princes of the Empire, among them the Duke of Austria, the father of the boy who was to marry Joanna.

With Louis was his wife who immediately took Joanna by the hand and said that she was going to look after her.

This was Joanna’s Aunt Margaret.

‘Your mother has written to me and asked me to take especial care of you,’ she told Joanna.

Joanna’s spirits were a little uplifted for during the past few days she had not been able to forget that soon she must say good-bye to her father. She clutched at this new hope. Her aunt was here and she was her mother’s sister—and, yes, she did look a little like Philippa. She had the same bright complexion, the same plump face; but she was not quite Philippa. Joanna was quick to detect the difference. She lacked that clear candid gaze which was so comforting. She was kind and she smiled, but Joanna felt instinctively that she was not really like her mother.

However, there was so much to see. The Emperor had ordered that two thrones be set up in the marketplace and here he and Edward sat during some very long ceremonies.

Aunt Margaret was beside Joanna during these and asked a few questions about her sister. She would write and tell her, she said, that she loved her little daughter on sight and was going to look after her until she was old enough to go to the Court of her future husband’s father. Duke Otho was kind too, though Frederic, the future bridegroom, was very young and he regarded Joanna with the same suspicion as that which she bestowed on him.

‘You will get to know each other and love each other,’ said Aunt Margaret. ‘But in the meantime you shall stay with me.’ Edward could see little of his daughter during the few days before their parting. His main purpose in coming so far had been to meet the Emperor and Duke Otho, and persuade them to support him in his claim to the French throne against Philip.

They were both cordial but inclined to be evasive, Edward thought, though he believed the marriage alliance would make sure of their friendship. He soon realized that however long he stayed he could do no more, so he prepared to leave. Before he did so he bestowed costly gifts on the Emperor and his wife and the Duke of Austria. These were intended as two-way bribes. In exchange he wanted their co-operation against France and for his daughter to be treated with the utmost kindness.

The gifts were readily accepted and assurances of friendship were exchanged so that Edward could leave feeling that the pact between them was secure and his daughter would be in good hands.

Duke Otho wanted to take the child with him to his Court but Margaret intervened. ‘She is too young as yet,’ she declared, ‘and my sister has asked me to keep her with me for a while.’

Duke Otho would have liked to protest. After all Joanna was going to marry his son; but he dared not offend the Emperor who would naturally be influenced by his wife. Moreover Edward was delighted with the arrangements. ‘It will be better for the child to be with her aunt,’ he said. ‘She is very young and loves her already.’

So it was arranged that Joanna should stay in Bavaria with her Aunt Margaret until such time as she could join her young husband-to-be.

It was an emotional farewell. Joanna wept and Edward had difficulty in restraining his emotions. ‘All will be well, dearest child,’ he said. ‘I and your mother will be thinking of you. No harm will come to you. Lord John de Montgomery will look after you. He will make sure that everything is well. There, my little one, you will be with your aunt and I know you already begin to love her. I shall tell your mother you are going to be happy here—otherwise she will be sad. You would not want that, I know.’