It proved to be not without cause. Within a few days little Edward was dead.
This was the greatest blow of all.
Limoges, the rising of French power, the loss of that of England, the death of Chandos ... and now little Edward.
Joan was overcome by grief. This young Edward had been her pride; she had looked far ahead into the distant future and seen him mounting a throne. A long long time yet she had promised herself, but it would be one day.
And now ... he was gone.
But she was a woman of energetic ambition. She had after a long wait achieved marriage with the Prince of Wales. She had lost their beloved son. But there could be more, she promised herself. They already had little Richard. He was not quite four years old, a tall fair-haired boy with the Plantagenet looks.
The little boy known as Richard of Bordeaux because of his birthplace was now in direct line to the throne.
How changed was the Court. How everyone missed the presence of Queen Philippa which they had not noticed while she had been there.
In her place ruled the brazen hussy, sitting in the Queen’s chair, wearing the Queen’s jewels, wrapped in the royal mantle ,edged with ermine and supported in this by the King.
And most changed of all the King himself. No longer alert, no longer concerned with his country’s welfare, wanting only the comfort his strumpet could offer and letting everyone know it.
The Prince took in the situation at once. The King had changed. His mind had weakened; he had suffered some illness. This could not be the great commanding figure who had guided the country for more than thirty years.
The King received his son warmly, condoled with him on the death of young Edward and received his grandson Richard with affection.
But there was an absent-mindedness about him; and the Black Prince refused to meet Alice Perrers.
It soon became clear that if he persisted in this attitude he would not be welcome at Court.
He took the first opportunity of speaking to his sister Isabella who had been closer to the King than any of them.
Isabella was bewildered. It was no use trying to make their father see what he was doing. He was completely bewitched by the woman.
‘All through my life I have only had to ask to see him and I was allowed to,’ she explained. ‘But if that woman says I should not come to him, I am not allowed to.’
‘It must pass,’ said the Prince.
‘There is no sign of it. She grows more and more outrageous but still he keeps her with him. He cares only for her. I believe he is growing feeble-minded.’
‘It would seem so,’ said the Prince. ‘I shall not stay here nor will Joan to be treated thus by a woman of that kind. You will return to France doubtless.’
Isabella was silent. Those about her often said that she had become a changed woman since her marriage. The imperious Princess had strangely become a somewhat meek wife. The fact was that her youthful husband was less enamoured of her than she was of him, and he was quite content to leave her in England while he went to France. He was reluctant to take up arms against the French King and on the other hand he could scarcely do so against his father and brothers-in-law. The handsome Lord de Coucy was less pleased with his marriage than he had first thought he would be. The tragedy for Isabella was that each day she grew more and more in love with her husband.
This had had the effect of subduing her and of bringing a certain humility into her nature which had never been there before. She was devoted to her daughters and now that her father was less determined to please her she was discovering a greater affection for him than it had seemed she could be capable of.
‘It grieves me,’ she told her brother, ‘to see him thus. There have been times when I have thought of leaving the Court but somehow I feel I must stay. He needs one of us with him and I am the only daughter left and was always his favourite. No, Edward, I shall stay here at Court and I have even gone so far as to make myself agreeable to Alice Perrers. I cannot tell you what joy that gives our father. Moreover it gives me an opportunity to keep my eye on him—and help him escape from the enchantment ... bewitchment or whatever it is.’
Edward was surprised that Isabella could become unselfish but he was too ill to concern himself with anything but his own needs. Moreover Joan was at hand to hurry him off to their home in Berkhamstead and there she set about nursing him and comforting him for the terrible losses he had sustained on the deaths of Chandos and young Edward.
The reign of Alice Perrers showed no sign of coming to an end. The King grew more and more besotted. Alice had given birth to a little girl whom she called Jane and although the hatred of the people was intensified with the passing of the time, she kept a firm hold on her power.
Edward gave great jousts in her honour and at these she would sit beside him far more sumptuously gowned than Philippa had ever been.
The King was showing his age and many people thought that his end was near. Until the death of Philippa he had looked younger than he actually was and had had more vigour than men half his age, but the life he was living with Alice was beginning to show its effects. Alice herself wondered how long it could last for her.
If he died that would be the end of her glory and as she remarked to a certain somewhat impoverished knight who had taken her fancy: A woman must take care of the future.
Alice was doing that very well. As soon as her eyes alighted on a jewel she had the urge to make it hers. She took great delight in finding new ways of enriching herself and she was doing very well. But she had to think of the future.
The man on whom her fancy had fixed itself was William de Windsor. He was not of high noble birth nor was he possessed of great wealth; but could she have expected some noble knight to marry her? Of course she could not. Her marriage would have to be secret for if it were known that she were married she would immediately be accused of adultery—and so would the King. They would have the meddling prelates talking of excommunicating them—and that was something even drooling old Edward would have to take seriously.
William de Windsor was nothing loth. He saw a far more brilliant future with Alice than he could hope for without her. Besides she was a woman of wide sexual knowledge which promised to bring some excitement into his colourless life.
So they were married ... in the utmost secrecy and when Alice gave birth to another daughter it was easy to pass young Joan off as the King’s.
It was an amusing life and riches flowed into Alice’s pockets.
The King’s devotion did not diminish and the older he grew the more he was her slave.
He would give a great joust at Smithfield in her honour. She should be the Lady of the Sun. She would be there as a Queen and all should do honour to her. She would ride from the Tower of London to Cheapside and her garments would come from the royal wardrobes.
It was a great day for Alice. There she rode at the head of the cavalcade in a russet and white gown edged with ermine and decorated with gold thread. From under her leather cap her beautiful dark hair flowed about her shoulders; her great dark eyes bright with excitement beamed on the crowd who could only stare in wonder and awe at this low-born woman who had captured the heart of a great King.
England was in a sorry state and the French took advantage of it. The Black Prince was growing weaker every day. There had been no more children born to him and Joan and the heir to the throne was the young boy Richard of Bordeaux.
John of Gaunt had returned to England and almost all the English conquests in France were now in the hands of the French. The wily John showed friendship to Alice Perrers in order to curry favour with his father and consequently was acting as Regent in the government of the country.