by Ian Mortimer
The splendour of Edward's procession and his pleasure at meeting his beloved mother, and the widespread satisfaction that he had performed homage for Gascony, was marred by one detail. The bishop of Exeter's presence was anathema to the queen.' She held him responsible for the confiscation of her estates. All France hated him because he was thought to be die impetus for the recent arrest of Frenchmen in England.2 When the bishop compounded his unpopularity by indignantly demanding in front of King Charles and the court that Isabella return to England immediately, she was in a strong position to refuse. In a sudden and shocking revocation of her loyalty she launched a bitter attack on her husband and Hugh Despenser, and the full blast was directed at the bishop:
I feel that marriage is a joining together of man and woman, maintaining the undivided habit of life, and that someone has come between my husband and myself trying to break this bond. I protest that I will not return until this intruder is removed, but discarding my marriage garment, shall assume the robes of widowhood and mourning until I am avenged of this Pharisee.
The bishop, outraged, looked to King Charles to overrule his sister, and to order her to return to her husband. But in words which must have infuriated the bishop, the king declined. 'The queen has come of her own free will', he declared, 'and may freely return if she so wishes. But if she prefers to remain in these parts, she is my sister, and I refuse to expel her.'
With those words the division between Isabella and her husband was made permanent. This heralded a crisis for all concerned, including Edward. His mother had effectively broken from his father, and had publicly received the support of the king of France. Bishop Stapeldon too was alarmed, and hearing a rumour that certain Englishmen in France -probably Roger Mortimer - were plotting to murder him, he fled from the palace in the guise of a pilgrim, catching up with his retinue later and returning to England. Somewhere, yet to show his face in the whole business, was the real protagonist of the split: Mortimer, the man in whom Isabella had placed all her trust.
Roger Mortimer and Isabella had much in common. They were both literate, sophisticated, intelligent and aristocratic, and had known each other for upwards of seventeen years. They had both alienated themselves irrevocably from Edward II and the Despenser regime, which they both hated. Hugh Despenser had for the last two years been in something of a state of panic about Mortimer's possible return to England at the head of an army, and regularly sent scared letters to naval commanders to investigate this trio of German ships or that Hainaulter merchant fleet. He knew from his spy network that Mortimer had gone towards Germany, and had spent some time at the court of Count William of Hainault, but he never envisaged what would happen next. In December 1325 Mortimer returned to France, and Queen Isabella threw herself into his arms. And, together, their attention fastened on young Edward, whose recently confirmed position as duke of Aquitaine gave them the potential to rebuild their authority. They knew that his hand in marriage would command a large dowry from a suitable bride's father. Regardless of the king's attempts to marry Edward to a continental princess, together they could use Edward to raise an army and wrest England from its untrustworthy king and his despotic favourite.
At the end of November, King Edward and Despenser realised their blunder. In less than ten weeks from saying farewell to his son at Dover, 'The Mortimer' - as Edward II referred to his enemy - had control of his son and was plotting with his queen. And that was not all: Despenser's spies told him that the revolutionaries had widespread support in England. Letters from Mortimer had been smuggled into the country. The king gave orders for all imported goods to be searched, but his precaution did nothing to allay the fear. Everyone knew that Mortimer and Isabella would eventually return.
What did Edward himself think of all this? We do not know for certain but it is worth noting that Edward was devoted to his mother, and so he was well-placed to understand her choice of companion, whether or not he trusted him. There is little evidence at this stage that he disapproved of his mother's lover. There is even a snippet of evidence that he may have agreed with the broad thrust of Mortimer and Isabella's plan, in his promising to reward Mortimer with Despenser's rich lordship of Denbigh if they should be successful.5 We also need to remember that he had much in common with Mortimer. Both men were intelligent, literate, forceful men of action. Both believed sincerely in the virtues of chivalry and knighthood, as can be seen in the way that Edward, when king, enthusiastically shared Mortimer's love of tournaments and Arthurian display. Both men embraced changing technology in warfare - including gunpowder and cannon - while maintaining and encouraging old-fashioned knightly virtues. In terms of religion, both of them were traditional, not particularly pious, but not sceptical either. Both turned to God at crisis points in their lives yet were sufficiently worldly to see the political uses of religious display. When it came to raising taxes and spending money, Mortimer's period of ascendancy was almost a blueprint for Edward's own treasury-busting profligacy. And above all else, Mortimer was a successful leader in battle. Therefore it is likely that Edward saw Mortimer in 1326 as one of the few English lords from whom he could learn something.
Back in England, Edward II knew he could never forgive Mortimer and Isabella, but officially he resisted acknowledging his wife was beyond his control until January 1326. Even then he did not despair of obtaining his son's return. We can trace the king's growing frustration through his letters. After hearing the news from the bishop of Exeter, the king wrote to Isabella and King Charles on 1 December 1325. To Charles he said that it was a lie that Isabella feared Hugh Despenser. He claimed he could not believe that she had given this excuse for not returning to England, and he begged Charles to compel her. He terminated his letter with a request to Charles also to 'deliver up Edward, our beloved eldest son ... we greatly wish to see him, and to speak with him, and every day we long for his return'. The letter he sent to Isabella was the last he ever sent to his wife. He accused her of lying about her hatred of Despenser, and outlined how he had often commanded her to return to him, and complained that she had always disobeyed. At the end he ordered her to return and to bring Edward with her.'
The following day the king wrote to his son. His tone in this letter, the first of three attempts he made to recall his son from France, was more considerate:
Very dear son, although you are young and of tender age, may we remind you of what we charged and commanded you at your departure from Dover. You answered then, with duly acknowledged goodwill, that you would not trespass or disobey any of our commandments in any point for anyone. And now that your homage has been received by our dearest brother [-in-law], the long of France, your uncle, please take your leave of him, and return to us with all speed, in company with your mother, if she will come quickly; and if she will not come, then you must come without further delay, for we have a great desire to see you and speak with you. Therefore, do not remain for your mother's sake, or for anyone else's, under the king's blessing. Given at Westminster, 2nd December.7
Edward's reply was suitably contrite. He admitted that he remembered that he had promised not to agree to a contract of marriage, nor to suffer it to be done for him, and to obey his father. But he could not return, he stated, because his mother would not let him. His protestation would have been backed up in mid-December, when the ladies and knights whom the long had sent with Isabella to France returned home. She had dismissed them, and removed all those loyal to the king from her service, cutting herself and Prince Edward off from the influence of the English court.
In January 1326 the king heard that his son had been betrothed to a daughter of the count of Hainault. He wrote to all the sheriffs of all the English counties stating that they should be ready to take arms against the queen, for 'the queen will not come to the king nor permit his son to return... and she is adopting the counsel of the Mortimer, the king's notorious enemy and rebel'. The king's only hope now lay in trying to persuade Edward to return to him against his mother's will.
&n
bsp; On 18 March, the king wrote to his son again. His letter, which was longer than his last, acknowledged that Edward had done well, and expressed his pleasure in hearing that Edward remembered his promise not to marry without his father's consent. But there was a note of disbelief in the letter, for the king knew about the marriage contract with Hainault. So he indirectly accused his son of concealing the truth. If Edward had done anything contrary to his promise, then
you cannot avoid the wrath of God, the reproach of men, and our great indignation ... You should by no means marry, nor suffer yourself to be married, without our previous consent and advice; for nothing that you could do would cause us greater injury and pain of heart. And since you say that you cannot return to us because of your mother, it causes us great uneasiness of heart that you cannot be allowed by her to do your natural duty.
Had Isabella returned to England when ordered to do so, the king added, then she would still be high in the king's affections. But her pretences for not returning, said the king, were against her duty. Then he added a particularly hurt line:
You and all the world have seen that she openly, notoriously, and knowing it to be contrary to her duty, and against the welfare of our Crown, has attached to herself, and retains in her company, the Mortimer, our traitor and mortal foe, proved attainted and judged, and she accompanies him in the house and abroad, despite of us, of our Crown, and the right ordering of the realm - him the malefactor ... And worse than this she has done, if there can be worse, in allowing you to consort with our said enemy, making him your counsellor, and allowing you to associate with him in the sight of all the world, doing so great a villainy and dishonour both to yourself and us, to the prejudice of our Crown, and the laws and customs of our realm, which you are supremely bound to hold, preserve and maintain.
Edward could not have been anything but distressed at this letter. Here was his father using words which were an accusation of his mother's adultery: 'she accompanies him in the house and abroad'. Worse, it amounted to an accusation of treason on Edward's part, which would incur the wrath of God as well as his father's indignation. How on earth was he to make an impression as a monarch when the time came for him to inherit if he was a traitor even before he inherited? But that was not all. The king continued:
We are not pleased with you; and you should not so displease us, neither for the sake of your mother nor for anyone else's sake. We charge you, by the faith, love and allegiance which you owe us, and on our blessing, that you come to us without delay, without opposition or any further excuse, for your mother has written to us to say that if you wish to return to us she will not prevent it... Fair son, do not disregard our orders, for we hear much that you have done which you ought not to have done.
The letter was designed to strike fear into the prince. Among the things he had done which 'he ought not to have done' were two royal appointments. When the king had allowed him to travel to France, he had authorised him to renew the appointments of his agents in the duchy of Aquitaine, both the seneschal of Gascony and the constable of Bordeaux. Edward had instead appointed Richard Bury to be constable of Bordeaux, and had appointed a friend of Mortimer's, Oliver Ingham, seneschal of Gascony. In the latter appointment especially, Edward was probably leaned on by Mortimer, who seems also to have appointed himself Edward's tutor in Bury's place. But the king was laying guilt on to the young duke with seething indignation, and Edward can have felt no pride in not acquiescing to his father's demands. If his father thought that he was defying him, he would be deemed traitorous. If the king knew he had no choice in the matter, he would be perceived to be weak.
By May 1326 Edward knew he was going to be used in a battle between his parents. He could not return to England - he was practically a prisoner — and his marriage to a daughter of Hainault had been agreed. Mortimer had secured the initial contact and forged the strategy in 1324. In December 1325 the countess of Hainault - Isabella's cousin - had travelled to Paris and met Isabella. The pope, seeing that war was likely, despatched envoys to try to secure peace, but their mission was doomed. At the coronation of the queen of France on 11 May 1326, Mortimer carried Edward's robes, an especially prominent position. The papal envoys travelling to England relayed this news to the king, who was furious. To the bishop of Rochester he shouted: 'was there not a queen of England once who was put down out of her royalty for disobeying her husband's orders?' He was referring to Queen Eadburga, who killed her husband in 802 and was exiled from Wessex." The bishop advised the king not to pursue that line of argument any further. But if he hoped thereby to quell the king's anger, he was to be disappointed. The rebels were gathering in France. Edmund, earl of Kent - the king's own half-brother - had decided to stay with Isabella and Mortimer, and had married Mortimer's cousin, Margaret Wake. Sir Henry Beaumont - one of the guardians of the young prince - had also decided to stay. Isabella was marshalling her finances in the county of Ponthieu to pay for ships to invade England.'3
On 19 June the king could bear it no longer. He sent a final series of letters to King Charles, to the bishop of Beauvais, and to his son. The one sent to Edward fumed that he had 'not humbly obeyed our commands as a good son ought, since you have not returned to us . .. but have notoriously held companionship with Mortimer, our traitor and mortal enemy, who was publicly carried to Paris in your company'. The king insisted that his son had 'proceeded to make various alterations, injunctions and ordinances without our advice and contrary to our orders'. A key line in the letter was 'you have no governor other than us, nor should you have'. Once again the king exhorted his son not to marry without his advice and consent. And, finally, there was a postscript to the letter. The last sentence was as cold a threat as the king could have written:
Understand certainly, that if you now act contrary to our counsel, and continue in wilful disobedience, you will feel it all the days of your life, and you will be made an example to all other sons who are disobedient to their lords and fathers.
And with that all communication between the king and his son ceased. Edward probably concluded that, no matter what happened now, he could never be restored to his father.
In July 1326 Edward and his mother left France and entered Hainault. Despenser had tried bribing Frenchmen to kidnap Isabella and Mortimer. Several chronicles mention that Isabella was in fear of her life, one even stating that she fled by night, secretly advised of her peril by her cousin, Robert d'Artois.'4 They had little time left to organise and mount their invasion. Mortimer had travelled ahead, to see to the arrangement of the fleet. Beyond his presence, and a few disaffected English lords, including the earl of Kent, Henry Beaumont, Sir Thomas Roscelyn and Sir John Maltravers, they would have to rely on Hainaulter mercenaries. And foreign troops on English soil was yet another problem they had to bear in mind. The English were not used to being overrun by foreign armies.
On 27 August it was settled that Edward would marry Philippa, youngest daughter of Count William of Hainault within two years. This was the lynchpin of the plan, agreed in outline in December the previous year. It was on this marriage that Hainaulters' faith in the whole project rested.
Many stories have been told about the marriage, and how Edward and Philippa first met. Biographers in the past, struggling for something to say about him in his youth, have seized on his relationship with his wife and used it to amplify die romantic element in his character. One tale often told is that Bishop Stapeldon, while engaged on his mission in 1319, looked over Philippa and reported that she was fitting as a bride for the future king. Another appears in the pages of Froissart's chronicle, that when Edward arrived in Hainault with his mother, Edward paid more attention to Philippa than Count William's other daughters, and so Edward chose her for his bride. Modernist historians, finding Froissart a fanciful writer, generally dismissed the latter story and accepted the former, stating that Philippa had already been chosen to be his bride, and even claiming that Philippa was born on 24 June 13 n on the assumption that she was the eight-year-ol
d girl Stapeldon saw in 1319. But as a close examination of the evidence shows, it was not Philippa but her older sister, Margaret, whom Stapeldon examined (see Appendix One). As for Froissart's story, he states that he heard the details from Philippa herself: how Edward met four daughters of the count and liked her the best in the eight days they spent together at Valenciennes. Certainly Froissart could be telling the truth, for he served in the English royal household from 1361, and presented Philippa with his poetic and historical works, and relied on her as a historical source for parts of his chronicle. The specific eight-day stay at Valenciennes is entirely plausible, and he correctly names the four girls, apparently in age order: Margaret, Philippa, Jeanne and Isabella. Perhaps Philippa passed over the fact that her elder sister was already married to Ludwig of Bavaria to make it seem that Edward had preferred her to Margaret, his first intended bride, so that she would not appear a second choice. Either way, there is no reason to doubt Froissart's statement that Edward took a great liking to Philippa on this occasion,'5 especially as they were practically the same age, and got on so well together in later years. We may thus have some confidence that, as Froissart mentions in a later entry, when the eight days were up, and it was time for the English to move on, twelve-year-old Philippa burst into tears at Edward's departure.
The fleet set sail from Brill on 22 September, straight into a storm. After two days of rough seas and high winds, they landed at Walton on the coast of Suffolk, in the lands of the earl of Norfolk, Edward's uncle. And that was the beginning of another storm, a proverbial whirlwind, as first Norfolk sent one thousand men to their aid, and then other knights and lords joined them. Mortimer's secret messages, smuggled in barrels and other merchandise, and relayed by word of mouth by men travelling as pilgrims, had worked a political miracle.