by Ian Mortimer
England had never seen anything like it. Although the invaders had come with probably only fifteen hundred soldiers, men hastened to support them as soon as they landed.'6 Isabella, dressed in her widow's weeds, played the part of a lady in distress, come to avenge the wrongs of Hugh Despenser. She travelled as if on pilgrimage wherever she went. Mortimer, fearful that his presence would cast doubts on the queen's morality and the justification of their invasion, kept a very low profile. Edward on the other hand was championed, as earl of Chester and duke of Aquitaine. It was under the royal banner that the army marched, and no one dared to draw a sword against the future king Although Edward II ordered the largest army ever to have been summoned - more than forty-seven thousand men - most of these troops did not respond at all, and those who did simply joined the insurgent army as it swept across East Anglia into Cambridgeshire.
Five days after landing, the invaders moved into Bury St Edmunds. Edward and his mother lodged at the abbey, playing the part of dispossessed royalty, while Mortimer stayed with the army. In London, authority was collapsing around the king. Although the Tower had been provisioned for a siege, the king soon saw that he and Despenser would not be able to hold out against the citizens, let alone Mortimer's army. Panic set in, and the king decided to flee westwards before Mortimer cut him off. Already the invading army was moving to the west of London. The royal household and men-at-arms marched out of the gates of the capital in confusion. Weighed down by the sixty thousand pounds of gold that remained in the royal treasury, Edward II and Hugh Despenser began the long journey towards South Wales.
As the king moved westwards, the invaders turned to pursue him. When the king entered the royal fortress of Wallingford on 6 October, they were approaching Baldock. Three days later, as the king marched into Gloucester, they came to Dunstable. On 10 October, while both armies were still far apart, the decisive blow was struck. Edward heard the devastating news that Henry of Lancaster — the most powerful man in the realm, his cousin - had declared for the invaders. Mortimer had succeeded in bringing about the most powerful alliance possible: between the lords of the Welsh Marches, the royal uncles, and the confederacy of northern barons led by Lancaster. This closed off the last avenues of hope for the king. He and Hugh Despenser abandoned their men-at-arms and tried to flee by boat from Chepstow but failed, with the wind against them. They paid a priest to sing a mass in the hope that God would favour them, but God was not listening to his dejected royal supplicant. The wind blew the king back to shore.
Young Edward could never have expected to be greeted with such relief and joy. He and his mother were feted in town after town across England. His father's promise to make him an example to all disobedient sons now seemed a complete delusion. But if Edward's life and position had been saved by Mortimer's strategic genius, the spectres which Mortimer had summoned up were equally worrying. In London there was anarchy. The mob had broken into the Tower and dragged out Edward's nine-year-old brother, John, and had set him up as ruler of the city. This was a joke in itself, for there was no rule in the city. Rioters and thieves were on the loose. Anyone suspected of collaborating with the Despenser regime was robbed and killed. Bishop Stapeldon, hearing that his house had been looted and was on fire, rode across the city in armour to confront the robbers. The mob caught him in the churchyard of St Paul's and dragged him from his horse and down Cheapside, cutting his head off with a bread-knife in their mad fury. They sent the head as a present to Isabella.
If ever there was an example of how devastating the loss of widespread support could be, it was the destruction of royal power in late September and early October 1326. To Edward's dismay, the country simply jettisoned his father. All the long centuries of dignity, glory, authority, respect, chivalry and honour - everything which was sacred and powerful about royalty - was stripped away. The king had been forced to run, ignominiously, towards Wales, and then forced out to sea. This was distressing for Edward. Mortimer's political machinations, which had served so well to launch their return to the country, now threatened to destroy the very thing that Edward hoped would be saved for him: the authority of the Crown.
At Wallingford, on 15 October, the invaders issued a proclamation. They declared - in Edward's name - that the king had accepted the advice of evil men, and through them the Church had been despoiled, the dignity of the Crown had been reduced, lords had been imprisoned without trial, and fined, put to death, or exiled; and the people had been burdened by heavy taxes. The invaders proclaimed they had come to put an end to this despotism. Edward, seeing his name now being used as an authority for political documents, could only hope that that was true. But on the same day as the proclamation was issued, Bishop Orleton preached a sermon to many hundreds of men at Oxford in which he accused the king of being a 'tyrant and a sodomite', echoing the charges brought against the disgraced Pope Boniface VIII in 1303. It was abundantly clear to Edward that a new tyranny was lurking. His father had now become the target of political lies and anti-royalist propaganda. With Mortimer in charge, the outlook for the royal family was bleak
On 26 October, Bristol Castle fell to Mortimer. Despite Isabella's pleas for mercy, Mortimer and the royal earls had the earl of Winchester (Hugh Despenser's father) beheaded. By then they knew that the king had fled the country. They also knew that he still had the great seal with him, and a huge amount of silver, so there was a real danger he could have set up a government in exile. But Mortimer and his fellow-advisers had an answer for that too. They argued that when the king left the realm he should have left the seal in the hands of a regent. Since the king was now off the coast of Wales, and had not appointed a regent, there could be said to be a technical absence of regnal authority in England. Here was their opportunity. Mortimer and Isabella agreed that Edward should be regent, and had Edward's new title proclaimed on the same day as Bristol fell.
In the month since the invasion, Edward had seen his father's authority crumble to nothing. Now he himself was titular head of state. But the greater the position he held in theory, the less his power in practice. He was a pawn, not a king, and he knew it. His mother and Mortimer had taken royal power for themselves. The same day he had been appointed to the regency, Mortimer and Isabella had designated Robert Wyville, Isabella's clerk, to keep and control Edward's privy seal. Later they would appoint the Chancellor and Treasurer too. And the man they chose to be Treasurer was Orleton, the bishop who preached the sermon that Edward's father was a sodomite. Edward was as much on the defensive as his father. The heirs to the throne of Edward I were seeking refuge in the last silent places of their kingdom: in the king's case, Neath Abbey in South Wales; in Edward's case, in the quiet counsel of his conscience.
King Edward II and his companions were captured by the earl of Lancaster on 16 December, in open country near Llantrissant. Three men were arrested with him: Hugh Despenser, Simon Reading and Robert Baldock; his other attendants were released. The king was taken to Kenilworth Castle, Lancaster's great fortress in the Midlands; the other three were taken to receive justice at Hereford, where Isabella and Mortimer awaited them with vindictive delight Isabella had hoped to make Despenser suffer in London, but already he was refusing food and water: there was a significant risk he would die before he reached London. Besides which, Mortimer wanted him to die publicly on the Welsh borders, and to suffer the atrocious torture which Despenser had carried out on one of his own friends. In the debate about carving up the cake that was Hugh Despenser, Mortimer won. At Hereford, on 24 November, Despenser was dragged through the streets of the city, with crowds shouting at him, and with verses from the bible written on to his body. He was hanged on a gallows fifty feet high, beside his henchman, Simon Reading. But Mortimer's coup de grace was the torture he had waited to inflict on his enemy for so long. Before the man was dead, he was brought from his gallows, and his heart and penis cut out. They were thrown into a large fire. Everyone could see that justice - in a manner of speaking - had been done.
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The royal party spent that Christmas at Wallingford Castle, enthusiastically celebrating their victory. Not only had they effected the first conquest of England since 1066, they had done so without great bloodshed, and without losing the goodwill of the country.
First there were the Hainaulter mercenaries to be thanked. From 5 December they began to depart, their job done, while their leader, John of Hainault remained with the royal party. On 26 December the Hainaulter knights who had come in the company of the earl of Kent received presents. The victors had no qualms about being generous; they understood that failure to reward men who had risked their lives was a short-sighted strategy. Besides, they had not only the collossal treasury amassed by Despenser on behalf of Edward II, they also had the personal wealth of Despenser and his supporters. One of Mortimer's knights, Edmund Hakelut, found £1,568 which had belonged to Mortimer's executed enemy, the earl of Arundel, in Clun Castle.20 The contents of the earl of Winchester's money chest at Winchester Priory was despatched to Isabella. Hugh Despenser's own jewels and treasure were found in the Tower. Isabella took delight personally in distributing this hoard to her Hainaulter friends: a gilded silver enamelled cup as a leaving present for John Marbays on 7 December; a gilded silver, enamelled and engraved cup with base and lid for the lord Haucourt on the 26th. The fairy-tale image of the queen distributing treasure to her knights in shining armour was reality that Christmas.
And the armour was shining too. We know because we have records of payments for it being burnished. As soon as Mortimer and Isabella took power, and the regency was established, the structures they put in place began to record their activities. Hence in the run-up to Edward's coronation we have a detailed record of royal expenditure. It is abundantly clear that, although Edward was merely a puppet regent, he was made to look the part of a real ruler, from the top of his nightcap down to the toes of a pair of boots made of cloth-of-gold and silk. Perhaps some of this show can be attributed to Edward IPs court. Certainly some should be attributed to Mortimer's influence, as he was known to be a man for whom lavish appearance was important But now Edward found himself at the heart of a court which was determined to be seen to be royal, official, rich and powerful Those first days of royal authority left an indelible impression on Edward. If a king wished to be seen as powerful, he needed to dress the part.
For Mortimer, Isabella and the coterie of earls and bishops around them, there were other matters to attend to, besides celebrations. The big question was what to do with the king? As he had been arrested and taken to Kenilworth, and was now back in England, legally speaking he was king again, and Edward no longer regent. Conscious of the problem, Mortimer and Isabella took the precaution of issuing writs as if they had come from Kenilworth in the king's name. This was not a situation which could be allowed to continue.
It is easy for us now to think in terms of deposition. In 1326 it was not No king of England had ever been deposed. Adolf of Nassau, Holy Roman Emperor, had been deposed in 1298, and Edward I had forced his puppet king of Scotland, John Balliol, to abdicate in 1296, but both of these instances were very different from the present situation. The Holy Roman Emperor was an elected post, not an inherited one; thus the real power lay with the electors. As for Scotland, it was at this time a semi-autonomous unit on the periphery of England, so the English king was in a position akin to that of the Empire's electors, except that he was the sole 'elector' of the Scottish king. Unwanted rulers of major kingdoms were invariably killed, not deposed. This was not just because of a vicious streak in the medieval character, it was because removing power from a man ordained by God to wield it was a dangerous business. Edward II himself had on many occasions simply revoked parliamentary decisions which had been forced on him. There was a serious case therefore for killing him, and it is probable that Adam of Orleton, given his public denunciation of him as a 'tyrant and a sodomite', led the calls for the king's execution.
Isabella would not countenance her husband's killing. Of the many bishops and magnates at court that Christmas, all must have cast a guarded eye towards Edward, who also did not wish to see his father torn apart by this pack of self-serving hounds. To advocate killing Edward II would secure the lifelong enmity of his son, the king who would immediately replace him. The consensus was thus one of caution. Edward II would be deposed in parliament, and kept safely, in royal dignity, but in prison for the rest of his days.
The deposition of Edward II was a display of political theatre, choreographed by Mortimer and the leading bishops. The royal party arrived in London on 4 January 1327. Three days later Edward attended the parliament at Westminster. For the next few days, the bishops preached sermons about how the country should be ruled by Edward, not his father. The archbishop of York, William Melton - who owed everything to Edward II -preferred to see the king abdicate of his own free will. The bishops of London and Rochester agreed. But Mortimer was working hard on twisting arms. He used his contacts among the London merchants, including the mayor, Richard Bettoyne, to intimidate reluctant members of parliament. Outside he convinced the nobles to side with him in a policy of deposition.
On Tuesday 13 January, he was ready to force the issue. Edward was in the palace, but not in the chamber with the barons, knights and ecclesiastical members. Therefore he did not hear the repeated sermons which rang out from nine o'clock. Nor did he hear the speeches which met with the resounding cries of 'Away with the king!' Repeated demands for the country to say whether it agreed to the deposition received the answer, 'Let it be done!' Finally, when those present had been totally swept up in the fervour of the moment, the aged archbishop of Canterbury was called to speak, and he preached on the theme that the will of the people was the will of God. The next time the parliament was asked whether the king should be deposed and his son take his place, there was a resounding response: 'Let it be done! Let it be done!' With the crowd all singing 'Glory, laud and honour', Edward was summoned. The doors to the chamber were flung open, and he was led in to witness the tumultuous calls for him to be crowned king.
Edward's reaction is interesting. He refused the throne. As those present at the parliament came forward and swore homage to him, the archbishop of York, and the bishops of Rochester, Carlisle and London very publicly and loudly declined. Their opposition was not to him personally, they explained, but to the process by which his father was to be dethroned. These four men alone were prepared to stand up for the man who had raised them to their positions of authority, and for the rights of the Crown not to be subject to those of parliament. Edward's refusal was perhaps inspired by these men, especially Melton, a capable man whom he trusted. It was plain to Edward that, if his father could be ousted by parliament, then he too could be removed from power. He preferred Melton's counsel: if his father would abdicate, Edward would accept the throne. If not, he would not sanction his father's deposition.
Edward's refusal to accept the throne is the first sign that, even though only fourteen, he was not prepared to bend to Mortimer's will. But Mortimer was a formidable political opponent and a far-sighted manipulator. While he could not be seen to cross Edward, especially now that Edward's candidacy for the throne had been approved by parliament, he soon came up with a solution. He sent a deputation to see Edward II. They gave him news not only of parliament's decision, but also the prince's reluctance to accept it. It was up to the king: either he could abdicate in favour of his son, or he could leave the throne to Mortimer.
On 21 January, in the hall of Kenilworth Castie, dressed in black and weeping, Edward II abdicated. The delegation returned to Westminster on the 24th. The next day it was proclaimed that the king had 'of his own goodwill and by common counsel and assent of the prelates, earls, barons and other nobles and commonalty of the kingdom, resigned the government of the realm'.
The reign of King Edward III had begun.
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Edward was crowned on i February 1327. Mortimer had, in fact, fixed the date even before parliament had decided to agre
e to the deposition of the old king.27 He wanted a quick coronation to confirm the official status of what was effectively his administration. For the same reason, he made sure that all the coronation arrangements were strictly in accordance with the long-standing instructions for the anointing of an English king. Edward was dressed in the traditional red samite. Striped cloth lined his path from the palace to the abbey. As he walked along it, surrounded by cheering crowds, with at least ten bishops and many earls and other lords and ladies in the procession, he was accompanied by four knights who held a gold canopy festooned with bells over his head. In the abbey itself, the floor was covered in coloured cloth. The stage - erected specially for the occasion before the high altar - was covered in quilted gold silk. In fact practically everything at the eastern end of the abbey was covered in gold. On the stage the king sat on a gilded throne with gold cushions beneath his feet and gold cloth beneath the cushions, a gold sceptre in one hand, a gold orb in the other and the gold crown of the saint-king Edward the Confessor upon his head. The hangings of the canopy above him were gold with purple cords; the archbishop of Canterbury - who presided over the ceremony - also sat on a seat covered with gold. To anyone staring along the nave, as the Latin chants echoed around the arches, the king would have appeared as the sole man in red at the centre of a dazzling, celestial apparition, in which golden figures moved around him across a golden space and performed the ritual anointing and coronation with golden vessels and golden regalia.