Philippa was waiting for him, calm, certain that he would come to rescue her.

They embraced with fervour.

‘I knew there was nothing to fear,’ she said. ‘I knew you would come.’

‘Berwick is mine,’ he said. ‘I have won what I came out to win. I will take you in to Berwick tomorrow and you will ride through the streets in triumph with me.’

‘Oh Edward. I am proud of you.’

He had to tell her himself about the boys for he did not want her to hear of it from anyone else. He tried to explain to her, to excuse himself. ‘It was a trick to draw me from Berwick and by God, Philippa, I almost fell into it. I almost did what they wanted me to. Then I saw that I must stay at Berwick.’

‘Of course you had to stay at Berwick. Of course you did right.’

‘A madness came over me. To think I must stay while you were in danger.’

‘The castle is a great stronghold. I was in no danger. I could have hung out for weeks.’

‘Yes, I know. But in my fury I ordered the hostages to be slain.’

‘The hostages ... The ...’ He saw the shudder run through her. ‘The little boys ...’ she went on.

‘It was because you were in danger. A great fury seized me. It was like a frenzy ...’

She tried to hide the horror in her eyes. She thought of the boys’ mother. Poor poor bereaved woman to lose both her sons.

‘Philippa, it was because of you ... you ... in danger.’

She understood. Philippa would always understand. She said quickly: ‘It was an ill fortune of war.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘an ill fortune of war.’

He was going to forget it. It was necessary. No one was going to think he could be trifled with.

He had won Berwick. His feet were now set on a certain path. He was emerging gradually as the man he would be and in these last weeks he had taken a step forward.

Men were going to tremble at the mention of his name as they had at that of his grandfather.

There would be two Great Edwards for men to marvel at.


* * *

The object achieved there was no longer any need to be parted from their children. Berwick was in English hands where Baliol had promised it should be. That was enough for the time. It would show the Scots that when the King of England had a purpose he achieved it. Another Edward had arisen to hammer them into submission.

Philippa was delighted to be returning to her babies. She had not mentioned the death of the hostages again and Edward had convinced himself that a soldier must harden himself to brutality when it was necessary and when men died by the hundred and thousand in battle life was not so very precious.

When they arrived at the castle of Clarendon they were amazed to find that the place seemed almost empty. They surprised one or two serving men lolling about and Philippa immediately noticed that there was something unkempt about the place. A terrible fear seized her; she feared for the safety of her children.

Edward thundered: ‘Where are the guards? Where are the attendants?’

But Philippa was already running to the nursery.

Three-year-old Edward was seated on the floor, rolling pewter platters around and chuckling with glee as he caught them. One-year-old Isabella was crawling after him. Both the children were unwashed, their garments stained and torn.

The Queen ran to them and picked up Isabella who screamed in protest but Edward recognizing his mother ran to her and clutched at her skirts, smiling his delight.

She knelt down and put her arms about them, assuring herself that in spite of their neglected condition they were well.

They had been fed. There was evidence of that on their clothing but how could they be in such a condition? Where were the governesses, the attendants?

In a short time Edward had summoned to the hall all the attendants and servants who were in the castle and in a stern voice demanded to know what this meant.

There was a deep silence; all were afraid to speak until Edward thundered that it would be well for them to give him some explanation of their conduct before his temper was such that all would pay with their heads for what they had done.

It was one of the minor servants who spoke, feeling himself no doubt without blame as his only duty was to obey those who were set over him.

‘We were told, my lord, that we could not have what we needed because there was not enough money to pay for it.’

‘It was true,’ said another. ‘We could not provide what food was necessary for the household. So it was taken from the neighbourhood and the people got very angry.’

‘You mean you stole from the villages round here to feed yourself ... and my children! ‘

‘Well, my lord, there was not enough money to pay for what was wanted.’

‘This is a sorry state of affairs. And does that account for the neglected state I find my children in?’

There was silence.

‘By God,’ cried Edward, ‘some of you will be sorry you flouted my wishes.’

Philippa said: ‘The children are well. It seems they have been fed. They have been left to themselves and have not been washed and tended—that is all. My lord, all I wish is to be with them, to look after them. If you dismiss these people it is punishment enough that they will have nowhere to go and no employment. We can bring others in to take their place.’

Edward, who had felt that rising anger beginning to stir in him, was haunted suddenly by the sight of two headless children. He must govern this temper or his life would be strewn with regrets for violent actions taken impulsively.

Philippa was right. No harm had been done to the children. They had not been starved or ill-treated. They were happy enough.

He turned to Philippa.

‘I will leave you to deal with the household,’ he said. ‘I will summon those villagers and hear their version of this sorry tale. They must be reimbursed for what they have lost. And let me warn you all that if it is brought to my ears that you have behaved in this disgraceful way again, you will know no mercy from me and what you have done at this time shall be considered against you.’

Edward learned from the neighbourhood that five hundred pounds was owing. This he ordered should be paid at once.

Philippa had been deeply shocked by the sight of the children but in a short time she herself had washed them and put them into fresh garments. Edward chattered away to her and she was relieved that he had no idea that he had been so neglected.

Philippa was thoughtful. She had made up her mind that she would have to be very careful about leaving them again.

She would never have a moment’s peace if she did. Yet on the Other hand she did not want to leave Edward.

She prayed for peace that would allow Edward to remain at Court with her; but she knew that the time would come when the difficult choice would have to be made.


* * *

To her great joy she discovered that she was once again pregnant. The King was delighted. Their two children brought him great joy and she noticed that although Edward was his pride, it was Isabella on whom he doted.

Isabella was a very pretty child, wilful and more demanding than Edward but that seemed to amuse the King. He liked her to sit on his knee and talk to him in her baby way; she clearly enjoyed being made much of and always ran to her father as soon as he appeared.

Philippa rejoiced to see Edward with the children so it was a great happiness to know that there would soon be another.

With Berwick in English hands, there could be a respite from the Scottish wars and Christmas was a jolly occasion and they spent it at Wallingford. Philippa at this time was heavily pregnant, the baby being due in February.

The Court was in London at the time of the birth and the baby was born in the palace of the Tower. Perhaps it was for this reason that Philippa decided to call her Joanna in memory of that other Joanna her aunt, who had been born in the Tower and was now living in France with her husband, David the Bruce, under the protection of Philip the Sixth.

However Joanna was a welcome addition to the family and Edward was more than ever delighted with a loving and fruitful wife.

He was however beset with problems. Trade had suffered considerably from the Scottish war. Foreign ships avoided coming to England for fear of being taken and robbed of their cargoes. Edward had quickly seen that if he was going to have a contented country it must be a peaceful one. Trade was what the country needed. He issued letters of safe conduct to all merchants and gradually the ships were coming back into English ports. The weavers who had come to England on Philippa’s suggestion were settling in Norfolk, although they faced some hostility from the local people who found them too hard-working for their liking. But they were a quiet people and so industrious that in spite of certain opposition they flourished. Moreover they had the blessing of the King and Queen and the natives were afraid to be too openly hostile.

Baliol was now back on the throne of Scotland with Edward’s support. He had agreed that Edward should have the whole of the South of Scotland below the Forth and by accepting him as his liege lord for the North he was allowed to reign over that part. It was not to be expected that Scotsmen would consider this a very happy state of affairs. Baliol was weak and needed continually bolstering up which meant that for Edward during the months that followed there must be continual journeys back and forth to the North. After her experiences at Clarendon Philippa would not leave her children, so she and the children, even baby Joanna, were constantly on the move. There was one occasion however when she could not have them with her and after much soul-searching she decided that she would leave them at Peterborough Abbey where she knew they would be safe.