by Ann Benson
Edward poured himself a tall goblet of watered-down wine and then offered one to his guest, who declined. After a sip he said, “Surely, Doctor, you are not as powerless before this plague as you would have me believe.”
“Your Majesty, I am as adept at curing this pest as a snake is skilled at flapping its wings and flying.”
The sovereign’s sharp-featured face took on a look of exasperation, neatly conveying his annoyance. “Then in God’s name, why did Clement send you here? ‘Tis a long journey for no purpose.”
“I have never been given the privilege of raising such questions to him directly, Your Majesty. It was my understanding that this journey of mine was made at your request. De Chauliac was always the intermediary. All of my instructions were given by the learned physician, whose enthusiasm for this work was truly zealous.”
The king did not comment. He rubbed his forehead as if attempting to soothe away a headache. “This de Chauliac I do not know. Clement I know. Tell me about de Chauliac.”
He could feel the king’s blue eyes almost burning into him. He could not believe that this king, said by all to be shrewd and manipulative, would not have sufficient information about a man as important as de Chauliac. Perhaps he tests me, Alejandro thought, to see if I will speak truthfully. “He is a powerful man in his presence, and clever. He has a skillful way with words. He is a most learned man, a brilliant thinker, and an originator of ideas. He seems to have the complete confidence of the pope. But I think he changes skins as does a chameleon when the need arises. One minute honey passes through his lips, the next it is vinegar. As is meet to his end.”
The king smiled slyly. “I had heard as much from other sources.”
I have passed his test, Alejandro thought with almost visible relief, his suspicions confirmed.
Then Edward’s grave look returned. “But what are we to do now, if you are unable to secure our safety?”
The physician tried to reassure the concerned monarch. “I am not completely without skills for the protection of your family. De Chauliac has armed me with the entirety of his knowledge of preventative methods. It was in this way that he thought I could serve you best.”
The king made no immediate reply. Instead, he glanced at Alejandro, narrowing his eyes, and the physician felt himself being appraised again. He could almost feel the king wondering to himself, What is the measure of this man? He found it ironic that he was perhaps the most trustworthy physician that the pope could have sent to England, for he had no allegiance to the Church or any other kingdom. But there was no proof that he could offer without giving himself away as a Jew.
Finally the king broke his silence. “Speak to me then of what you must do. I will not allow any more of my children to fall to this curse.”
“Sire, you desire that outcome no more than I. And I have come prepared with a method to achieve it. It is a complicated regimen combining careful isolation and various preventative treatments, and I am quite certain that it will not please those who are forced to follow it. My greatest fear is that your children will chafe at the rigors of the regimen. My hope for its success lies entirely in the willingness of the patients to cooperate.”
Edward’s look of frustration intensified. “You have met my son and daughter, Dr. Hernandez. What say you to your chances of controlling their behavior?”
The physician would not allow himself to be trapped into an admission of impotence with his work not yet even begun. There will be time later for that … he thought soberly. “Truthfully, Sire, I dare not say. The royal children, I am told, have become accustomed to considerable free will and independence. De Chauliac readily admits that the pope despises his confinement, labeling it an intolerable imprisonment.”
Edward smirked, betraying his unflattering opinion of the pope’s sybaritic habits. “He misses his chatelaine, no doubt. The good pontiff has never been one to deny himself the luxuries of a secular life. It is a wonder that he has not yet retracted his patronage from his physician as a way of evading the responsibility to behave sensibly.”
“All wise men fear this pest, my lord, and one who is pope must be wise, no? The rich and powerful fall just as readily as the poor and helpless. The affliction makes no distinction between them.”
Edward agreed. “I am a wise king, I assure you. I fear it more than the bloodiest battle.” In a firm voice he said, “I have survived more than my share of those.”
“This battle we now face will not be bloody, but it will require bravery and resolve.”
“England has both in great measure, be sure of it.”
“Well, then,” Alejandro said, standing up, “this is what must be done. We must begin by closing off the castle entirely. No one is to go in or out without a period of quarantine; no goods may pass through the gate without first resting outside for a period of time. You must tell the warders to bring in whatever supplies will be needed for three months, at the very least.” In a deep state of concentration he began to pace around the audience room. “Staples of food must be stored, and more animals brought in to be slaughtered for meat. You must prepare, it seems to me, as if you were to be under siege. Bring in everything you might need. Then keep everyone and everything else out.”
When he finished speaking, Alejandro looked at the king, waiting for a response. The monarch looked terribly distressed. “You are right, Physician; this will not be well received. Is there no other way?”
“None that has been made known to me, and you know the success of my teacher.”
Edward went to the window and looked out at the surrounding countryside. He sighed deeply. “Do what you must,” he said. “I will make it known that you have my authority.”
The king dismissed him after discussing only a few more details, leaving Alejandro to his own devices. The physician took a few hours to stroll around the grounds of Windsor, making note of all the entries and exits, looking into conditions in the kitchens and laundries, inspecting the privies. It was an enormous keep and made the papal palace seem small in comparison, and though it was no less lavish in its appointments, Alejandro thought that de Chauliac’s observation was correct: the French sense of beauty was more refined. The stones of Windsor were larger and more crudely cut, the tapestries more roughly woven, the boards of the floors less perfectly smooth. At Windsor, too, there was scaffolding, for the king was in the process of increasing its size dramatically, to be more in keeping with the greatness he intended for the English realm. It was a magnificent work in progress, evolving daily in accord with the dreams of its master, who would one day soon be able to claim that England’s rulers were majestically housed.
He began his implementation of de Chauliac’s regimen later that day by convening an assembly of the royal astrologers. While the king dismissed their ministrations as foolish quackery, Queen Philippa relied heavily on their daily forewarnings, and Edward was begrudgingly tolerant of her dependence on them.
“I retain three practitioners,” the queen explained at their first interview. “My husband considers this to be an extravagance. He says one should suffice, but I will not hear of parting with them.” She smiled sweetly, showing signs of the great beauty she had been in her youth, and said, “Of course, he would not give up one of his dressing-men for all the gold on Cleopatra’s barge. Nor shall I give up any of my own pleasures.”
“Then, if it pleases you, Your Majesty,” he said, “please ask your astrologers to prepare a schedule of times when it would be auspicious for each member of the household to bathe and eat, and ask them also to advise us on what foods would preserve the health as well.”
“An enormous task!” the queen said. “They will surely protest.”
“But necessary,” Alejandro said. “I beg your indulgence to convince them of the importance of this intelligence. The health of Windsor’s occupants may depend on it.”
Begrudgingly, the queen agreed to his request, but their efforts were not as fruitful as he’d hoped they would be. The immediate res
ult of their occult divinings was a kitchenful of very cross cooks, and a family of cross diners, for seldom could the astrologers and their patients agree that one dish would be beneficial to the entire family on a particular day. Nor were the chambermaids pleased to be carrying buckets of hot water to the tubs of their mistresses at the odd hours when the astrologers deemed it appropriate for them to bathe.
But those problems seemed mere annoyances on the day when one of the practitioners said to the queen, “There are certain days when marital relations between yourself and the king will be most beneficial to your health. Unfortunately, there are others when the opposite result may be expected. I have prepared a calendar for your use.”
When the apologetic queen relayed this information to her husband, he exploded in outrage. “The sniveling heretics! How dare they even think to instruct me in matters of my bedchamber! Enough of this nonsense. I will hear no more of it!”
“Edward, they think only to protect us. The physician said—”
He interrupted her. “Perhaps they could use their skills to find me another lady whose company would be deemed appropriate by the heavenly guides when yours is not favorable.”
The queen left in a huff, and the astrologers’ practice was limited thereafter to those matters not concerning the king’s intimate enjoyment of his wife’s company.
Having determined the limit of his ability to influence the behavior of the king, Alejandro, already somewhat discouraged, turned his attention to the amount of access given to those who did not live on the castle grounds, hoping for more cooperation from the captain of the king’s guard. But he discovered when he went looking for the man that he had decided to leave Windsor to return to his family, with the reluctant permission of the king. In his place Alejandro found Sir John Chandos, who had agreed to take the captain’s place temporarily.
“I rejoice to see you in such employ,” Alejandro said. “The sight of a reasonable man is welcome indeed. I have had much resistance from others, and having barely begun my tasks, I feel thwarted already.”
“I shall try to accommodate you, Physician,” Chandos said, “where it can be done.”
“I expected nothing less from you, sir,” Alejandro said. “Now, this is what we shall need to do. We must close the castle completely, and allow no one to enter without a strict quarantine.”
“Of what duration?” Sir John said.
“A fortnight, I think, will suffice.”
“And if one leaves, what then?”
“No different,” he said.
“Then where shall the king’s men practice at arms?”
Alejandro looked around the grounds. “Here, I think.”
“In the courtyards? There is not room enough!”
“It will have to suffice, unfortunately, Sir John. Once the gates are closed, no one may go out and return without quarantine, no matter how brief the duration.”
“What of repairs to the armaments, and supplies for the barracks?”
“Can they not be arranged in advance? Is there an armorer willing to come in for the duration?”
“Willing or not, I will find one and convince him,” Chandos said.
Another man pressed into service by necessity, he thought, considering his own indenture under the pope. “Do what must be done, Sir John, and we will hope for a short internment,” he said. “God willing, we shall not be bound up in here for long.”
Then the workers of the castle were assembled and told of the plan to encapsulate Windsor into a self-contained unit until the plague passed. Objections were immediate and strenuous. Saddlers, bow makers, tailors, and all manner of craftsmen were to be kept outside the barred doors at Alejandro’s insistence. All foods and grain supplies, including feed for the animals, were to be discarded and fresh supplies brought in to replace them. All cupboards and closets and containers were to be emptied and washed and in pristine condition before they were refilled.
Every edict he announced before the crowd brought grumbles of discontent, but with patience and carefully chosen words, he managed to convince Windsor’s occupants that the harsh restrictions imposed upon them would keep them from falling to the plague. Then he delivered the coup de grâce.
“Henceforth, all occupants of the castle shall bathe daily and don fresh garments. All worn garments are to be washed immediately. The laundresses shall keep a cauldron of water heated at all times for such purpose.”
A virtual howl went up from the castle’s residents. Alejandro clapped his hands angrily to get their attention. When he finally had it again, he said, “Would you all survive this pest to return to a state of normal sanitation, which seems to please you more?”
There were low grumblings, but none of the vehement objection he had heard a few moments before. “Then you must do as I say. I have the support of His Majesty in these matters.”
As the crowd dispersed, Sir John, who had watched from the side, said, “You will be an unpopular man inside these walls.”
Alejandro shrugged. “I have been unpopular before, far more so. But they will all forget their inconvenience when the gate opens again, and they are alive to see another year.”
As he continued to enforce his mandates, Alejandro found to his amazement that the more forcefully he conveyed his orders, the more readily they were obeyed, even by the royal children, whose legendary lack of respect for authority seemed more truth than legend to him. But as de Chauliac had predicted, it was not long before their somewhat cheerful acquiescence began to change into resentful compliance. The war with France had been temporarily suspended, and the young men of the castle, championed by the Black Prince, grew restless from inactivity. They pleaded to be allowed to take their horses and armaments into the countryside for weaponry practice, and the king was in favor of this, claiming that the continued strength of his fighting force was equal in importance to their avoidance of the pestilence. Alejandro disagreed vehemently and would not hear of it, insisting that they be limited to refining their skills within the castle’s courtyards.
The king seemed to grow more suspicious of his intentions every time they met. Alejandro began to wonder if Edward thought that he had some secret mission, that he was not a physician at all, but instead an agent of war for the French pope, perhaps trying to set in place restrictions that would reduce England’s readiness for battle with France when the time came again, as all knew it would. It was not long before the physician’s concerns were realized, and the king issued a stern warning.
“Physician, these things you make us do begin to seem treasonous to me. If your orders begin to sound to me like the insidious influence of the king of France to dilute the strength of my forces, I shall have you returned to His Holiness in chains.”
Once more Alejandro felt the sting of the king’s distrust, and the frustration of his own inability to substantiate his ambivalence. He could only say, “Sire, I am a Spaniard, and I bear no allegiance to France. Neither am I unduly directed by papist influence. I implore you to trust that my interest lies only in doing my task well and thoroughly. I am entirely dedicated to my craft, and my loyalty lies there alone.”
This declaration seemed to satisfy the king for a time, and matters became relatively peaceful again. But it was not long before some of the king’s retainers requested Alejandro’s permission to leave Windsor’s grounds and return to their own dominions.
When they approached him he said, “That is not for me to permit or refuse. That is the king’s decision. What is mine to permit is your reentry. If you wish to come back after leaving, you must be quarantined in isolation until I deem it safe for you to mix with the other occupants again. If you become infected while outside, you may not show signs of infection until well after you are resettled, for it seems to me always that there is a time between when one victim shows signs, and then the next falls ill. It is the opinion of the pope’s physician, who taught me his skills personally, that mere eye contact can pass the contagion from one person to the next.” He
did not add that he disagreed with this theory, for he was loath to compromise his own success in isolating the castle’s inhabitants from the outside world by invalidating any superstition that worked to his benefit.
Still, many decided to go home to their families. Having already allowed the gate captain to depart, the king could hardly refuse, and gave reluctant permission for many of his best retainers and favorite knights to depart for their own keeps. One by one his comrades-in-arms left Windsor’s comfort and safety on the uncertain journey to their various estates, most not knowing what would be found or what they would bring with them if they were fortunate enough to reach their homes.
The royal household having been thus diminished, the days passed more quietly than ever before. Alejandro thought it fortunate that the older royal offspring had suites of their own, or they might have made great nuisances of themselves in the constant search for entertainment. Prince Edward had three servants who attended to his needs, and the companionship of Sir John Chandos, who made a valiant effort to keep the prince and his comrades busy with sword practice and lessons in strategy. The younger Edward managed to amuse himself quite well, stoically accepting his fate and enduring it like that brave warrior he claimed he would one day become. The queen’s ladies, accustomed to the entertainment of poets and minstrels and storytellers, kept themselves busy with embroidery, and took up the tasks of singing and reading to each other. Sweet soft voices and tentative strums of the lyre were always heard from their apartments. Alejandro even heard that some of them had taken up the dice, a thing that ladies rarely did, which he thought might account for the sudden increase in laughter he heard coming from that section of Windsor’s living quarters.
