Emma Campion - The Kings Mistress

for Alice

Royal Family

Edward IIKing of England, overthrown by Queen Isabella and lover Roger Mortimer

Isabella of FranceEdward IIs queen

Roger MortimerIsabella of Frances lover

Edward IIIKing of England, son of Edward II and Isabella

Joan of Scotlanddaughter of Edward II and Isabella

Philippa of HainaultEdward IIIs queen

Edward of WoodstockPrince of Wales and Aquitaine, eldest son of Edward III and Philippa

Lionel of AntwerpEarl of Ulster, then Duke of Clarence, second son of Edward III and Philippa

John of GauntEarl of Richmond, then Duke of Lancaster, third son of Edward III and Philippa

Edmund of LangleyEarl of Cambridge, then Duke of York, fourth son of Edward III and Philippa

Thomas of WoodstockEarl of Buckingham, fifth son of Edward III and Philippa

Isabella of Woodstockfavorite daughter of Edward III and Philippa

Mary and Margaretyounger daughters of Edward III and Philippa, died of plague

John de Southerybastard son of Edward III and Alice Perrers

EdmundEarl of Kent, half brother of Edward II

Joan of KentEdmunds daughter, eventually wife of Prince Edward, eldest son of Edward III

Elizabeth de BurghCountess of Ulster (in her own right), first wife of Lionel of Antwerp

Blanche of LancasterDuchess of Lancaster, first wife of John of Gaunt

Constance of CastileDuchess of Lancaster, second wife of John of Gaunt

Katherine Swynford, ne de RotDuchess of Lancaster, third wife of John of Gaunt

Other Historical Figures

Master Adam; Robert Broun (though I have no proof of more than a business relationship between him and Alice); Geoffrey, Philippa, and Thomas Chaucer; Jean Froissart; Dom John Hanneye; Simon Langham; William Latimer; Robert Linton; Richard Lyons and Isabella Pledour; John Neville; Henry Lord Percy and Mary Percy; Alice, Joan, and Jane Perrers (and perhaps Isabella and Joanna); Janyn Perrers; John Perrers (called Martin in the book); John Salisbury; Nicholas Sardouche; Richard Stury; William Wykeham; William and John Wyndsor (Windsor)

Mentioned, not appearing.

I
AN INNOCENT ENCOUNTERS THE WORLD

Right as oure firste lettre is now an A,
In beaute first so stood she, makeles.
Hire goodly loking gladed al the prees.
Nas nevere yet seyn thyng to ben preysed derre,
Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre

G EOFFREY C HAUCER , Troilus and Criseyde, I, 17175

WHEN HAD I a choice to be other than I was? Should I have been more selfish, more stubborn, more rebellious? Have I been too compliant, too quick to give the men in my life what they thought they wanted? Am I a fallen woman, or am I an obedient handmaiden? As a female I was acceptable only as a virginal daughter, a wife, or a widowunless, of course, I took vows. I have been all threedaughter, wife, widowand one other, mistress.

My lover is now long dead, and I sense death drawing near for me. I write this for my children, praying that they might understand.

I began my life in a quite acceptable fashion, but the royal family laid such snares in my path that those who would throw the first stone are certain that I can never right myself even now. Yet when had I a choice to be other than I was? This is the argument of my life.

1355

D URING THE week our parish church of St. Antonin on Watling Street, east of St. Pauls in London, hummed with chantry Masses. Ours had long been a parish of wealthy merchants who worshipped under the stricture of Christs teaching that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to gain the kingdom of God, and so they bequeathed great sums for Masses to be said for their souls after death. The chantry priests were kept busy with almost continuous prayers, for it was an old parish and had buried many wealthy men and their wives, anxious for redemption.

I loved to spend time in St. Antonins on ordinary days. It was the only place I had permission to go without a companion, a guardian, and I felt safe there. The priests murmured prayers embraced me, and the familiar paintings and statues of our Savior, His Blessed Mother, and the saints reminded me that as long as I said my prayers and obeyed my elders I need never fear the devil. I was happily nave, an innocent in the ways of the world.

On Sundays and important feasts the atmosphere of the little church lacked this womblike comfort, for on those days all parishioners except the bedridden attended Mass. The wealthy merchants flaunted their success by parading with their elegantly dressed families, while the gossips made note of any changes in the attendance or indeed in the attendeesa swollen lip, a swollen belly hiding beneath an uncharacteristically voluminous skirt, an outrageously expensive new headdressso that all observations might be debated and settled after the service and for days to come. I basked in the light of my handsome family on these busier days.

I must have long been aware that on Sundays St. Antonins was also a marriage market, but with that gift we have as children for ignoring what does not affect or fascinate us I had paid no attention to that aspect of the day. Until it was my turn.

I begin my story with my first appearance as a vendible in that place that was my sanctuary during the week. It was the autumn after my thirteenth birthday.

It had come as no surprise to me that I was expected to wed at a suitable age. I have no memory of a time when I had not understood that as a girl my worth to the family was my marriageability, either to a mortal man or to Christ, and my parents had never spoken of the possibility of my entering a nunnery. Father was a respected member of his guild, a trader in fine cloth and jewels, and a partner in a shipping concern. My marriage should bring him even greater prosperity, or status, or, preferably, both.

I suited my parents plans. I was pretty, well formed, well behaved, quick witted but not openly opinionated. As presentable as Fathers luxury wares. I was willing and eager to be betrothed, believing that my life would only then begin; and the outcome of the Sunday I am about to recount certainly shaped the rest of my life, for good or ill.

That my moon cycle had recently begun had been fair warning to me that my parents would begin to discuss my betrothal to someone of use to the family. But I had not expected them to take action quite so soon. Mother explained to me in her usual chilly wise that I was now of an age to assume my role in the family, to link it with another successful merchant family, and therefore she saw no reason to delay.

The money we have spent for the grammar school you attend is better spent elsewhere. You shall not return to it.