And that Philippa could not be long for this world was growing more and more obvious every day.
Philippa knew that her end was near. She lay in her bed so heavy now with her dropsical complaint that it was exhausting to move.
It had been a life well spent, a happy life and she cherished still the memory of her first meeting with Edward at her father’s Court. Theirs surely had been one of the happiest royal marriages ever known. Until now. She would not think of that brazen woman who crept about with secrets in her eyes. It was a pity she knew of her. But it was so obvious and she could not help it. She had always been aware that Edward was a man of strong passions. One of his nature naturally would be. She knew there had been temptations. She had heard whispers of the beautiful Countess of Salisbury and he had cast many a yearning glance on that minx Joan of Kent; but never had he given way to temptation. Until now. She must not take it hardly. He was a man and she had become a poor creature, too sick for anything but to lie in her bed and wait for the end, to look back over the past. She had much happiness to reflect on and she could be proud of the family she had raised.
Edward the first-born, the best loved, was now a father of two children, Edward and Richard, and seemed content with his life in Bordeaux with Joan of Kent. Perhaps Joan had loved him all the time. It was strange that he had not spoken for her when it would have been fitting for him to. Neither she nor Edward would have raised any objection to a match when they were young. Isabella was at last happily married. Poor Joanna had not had much of a life; and her two Williams and little Blanche would never be forgotten even though they had lived such a short time. Then there were tall and good-natured Lionel, bold John of Gaunt, Edmund and Thomas. She tried not to think of Mary and Margaret; she had never got over their deaths.
Her beloved children—all living their own lives which did not really concern her. Edward was pleased with the children they had had. She had nothing to reproach herself with on that score.
And now the end was fast approaching.
One morning she awoke in her apartments in Windsor Castle and knew it was close, so she sent a messenger to the King asking that he come to her bedchamber without delay. And when he came in all speed and saw how ill she was he was overcome with grief and his conscience smote him more strongly then ever before.
She smiled at him lovingly.
‘Edward,’ she said, ‘this is the end.’
He knelt by the bed and taking her hand kissed it. He kept his head lowered for he could not bear to look at her.
‘It must not be,’ he murmured.
‘Dear husband,’ she said, ‘dear lord and King, we cannot go against God’s will. He has decided that my time has come and we must perforce accept this. Our union has been long and you have given me so much happiness.’
Edward could scarcely bear to listen. He kept thinking of Alice Perrers and he reproached himself bitterly. Why did I not wait? Why did I do this to Philippa? For she knows ... everybody knows. This shame has come upon me.
‘My lord,’ said Philippa, ‘I beg you fulfil my engagements as I have entered them in my will. I have named those of my ladies who should receive some benefit.’
‘Everything you wish shall be granted, my beloved Queen.’
‘Edward when your time comes will you lie beside me in my tomb and shall it be in the cloisters of Westminster?’
‘It shall be done,’ said Edward.
‘Then let us thank God for the happy years. For the children He has given us ...’
‘I thank God for all this,’ said Edward, ‘and I beg him now not to take you from me.’
He was vowing to God: Only let her live and I will never see Alice again; but even at that moment he knew the allure of Alice would be too strong for him. He was overcome by misery which was heavy with remorse.
If only I had waited! he thought. If only she had never known!
She had closed her eyes.
It was the end. The long association with his Queen was over and he felt lost and bewildered. His son Edmund who was at the bedside with him laid a hand on his father’s arm.
‘My lord,’ he said, ‘come away. She has left us for ever.’
Edward wrestled with his conscience. She did not know. I was always so careful. She would never have guessed what was happening.
He kept seeing her as the rosy-faced girl she had been when they had first married. Then he had been sure that he would never want anyone else as long as he lived.
But she never knew, he promised himself. She believed to the end that she was the only one.
But when he read her will and saw her bequests to the women of the bedchamber, he noticed at once that there was one name missing. That of Alice Perrers.
THE LADY OF THE SUN AND THE OLD MAN
WITH the death of Philippa the influence of Alice Perrers over the King began to increase. His conscience no longer worried him and he became more and more besotted. He was never parted from her; he became her slave; she only had to express a wish and he wanted to grant it. It was said of her that she was very skilled in the ways of love and that this gave her special powers over an ageing man who had kept his passions in check until this time.
Alice was greedy for riches. She loved jewels and could never have enough of them; moreover she was shrewd and in view of the King’s age she knew her reign could not be of long duration; therefore she was determined to make the most of it while it lasted.
She sought about for means of making herself the richest woman in the country. There were plenty of tricks she could play. Edward was ready to bestow lands on her and these she accepted eagerly, but it was not enough for her rapacious needs. She made use of the custom of guardianship which meant that when rich parents died leaving heirs under age some member of the Court took charge of them. To be allotted a rich heir was a great concession, for a good income from the estate came with the heir. Alice had already three boys under her care, as it was said, which was very lucrative.
It was amusing that she who had been a woman of no importance should have become the most important in the land. She grew bolder and bolder as she became more and more sure of her power and even joined the King during council meetings and sat beside him giving advice to which he listened with something like awe; she had formed a habit of going to Westminster Hall and taking her place beside the judge that she might tell him what verdict to give. And that verdict would depend on whether the accused had rewarded her in a manner she considered suitable to bring about his acquittal.
She was seen wearing the late Queen’s jewels when she sat with the King at banquets. She had a passion for jewels and her gowns were ablaze with them, and the fur trimming on each gown was a fortune in itself. Edward could not have chosen a woman more unlike Philippa and just as the people had loved their Queen, their feeling for the woman they called The Harlot carried the same intensity but in the opposite direction.
Alice Perrers’ name was spoken with venom in the streets of London and she was notorious throughout the country.
The death of Philippa had undoubtedly brought a great change to the country. She and Edward had stood as pillars of strength and virtue. Edward could scarcely be called that now. Instead of the great warrior the upright noble knight he had been, he had become a doddering old man who could not keep his hands—even in public—from caressing a brazen strumpet. Deeply the people mourned the passing of the Queen. When she had been alive they had been aware of her virtue but they had failed to recognize her strength.