The Perfect King

by Ian Mortimer

  Thus we can see that the consolidation of his reign was Edward's priority in 1331. Every statement was carefully designed to reflect his royalty, from the organising of a tournament to the creation of his crest: a crown surmounted by a gem-encrusted gold eagle. But although we may see the process of 'absolute royalty' as layer on layer of propaganda, we should not presume it was cynically done. This was part of his real identity: he was reinforcing his legitimacy, unlike Mortimer whose propaganda had been concealing his illicit use of authority. We cannot separate the image that Edward wanted to project - his vision of kingship — from the nineteen-year-old man himself. In Edward's own eyes, he really was the new Arthur. It had been prophesied thus; now it was up to him to make the prophesies come true.

  In 1331 Edward wrote to the pope asking whether he should go to Ireland 'which needed much reformation'. At the same time he asked about 'crossing the sea', by which he seems to have been asking a question about whether he should go on crusade. The pope's answer to the latter question was that all Christian princes should go on a crusade. His answer to the former was that, if England was safe, then Edward could travel, if his presence in Ireland would do some good, although he ought to delegate the 'reformation' of the country to someone else. Edward summoned the young earl of Ulster and the archbishop of Dublin to come secretly to him in England to advise him on his planned trip to Ireland, and even set a date for his journey there in 1332.27 But one has to wonder why Edward was asking the pope about visiting a part of his own kingdom, and why he needed the earl to come to him to advise him on his going there, especially since he never actually went.

  Traditional explanations of Edward's Irish interest have been based on the lawlessness of Ireland in 1331. One might reasonably speculate that Edward was trying to impress the pope with his concern for the more lawless reaches of his kingdom and the Holy Land. Every Christian ruler in the middle ages was engaged in a constant public relations battle with the pope, who organised much international diplomacy, acted as a mediator in conflicts, appointed the archbishops, bishops and archdeacons throughout Christendom, and thus had much influence in the internal and external affairs of any country. But with a man so given to secret business and propaganda as Edward, it is worth asking a much more radical question. Was Edward seeking information from the pope regarding his father's possible whereabouts in Ireland?

  This is an exceedingly difficult question to answer. But it is worth considering in regard to these requests of 1331. Edward may have been eager to go to Ireland not just for the reformation of the country but perhaps also to ransack Mortimer's castles there for information regarding his father's whereabouts. In this respect there is some evidence that Edward II was taken to Ireland after Kent's execution. This is a document known as the Fieschi letter: an account of Edward II's later life up to and including the year 1335 written at Avignon by a papal notary, Manuel Fieschi. This has hitherto been considered by scholars to be a contemporary forgery. However, the main reason for supposing this was the long-held assumption that Edward II had died in Berkeley Castle in 1327. That we now know that Edward II was alive in 1330 does not automatically make the Fieschi letter genuine, but it allows us to consider its contents seriously, and there are a number of reasons to consider that it was written in good faith (see Appendix Three). In particular it states that Edward II was taken to Ireland after Kent's death. If this was the case, Edward might have heard from one of Maltravers' men that his father had been taken to Ireland in 1330, and might have presumed he was still there, or Mortimer's agents there knew what had happened to him.

  Alternatively, we might consider another possible attempt to locate his father. The Fieschi letter suggests that, after Mortimer's execution, Edward II was released from captivity in Ireland and crossed to Normandy in the guise of a pilgrim. This would have been in early 1331. On 3 April 1331 Edward III suddenly departed from court with about twenty men, all dressed as if going on pilgrimage, to Northern France. Adam Murimuth noted the king's journey in his chronicle. He stated that Edward, Montagu and the bishop of Winchester, with about fifteen other knights crossed the sea dressed as merchants. They had it proclaimed in their absence that they had gone abroad 'on pilgrimage and for no other reason', and that John of Eltham was appointed custodian of the realm until the king returned. Murimuth supposed that Edward had gone in disguise to cover up the fact that he was going to swear homage to King Philip for Aquitaine. Modern scholars have tended to agree, on the basis that Edward had failed to do homage properly before, and therefore needed to repeat his aborted performance of homage to Philip's satisfaction. But this is far from certain, not least because Philip had just agreed - on 9 March 1331 - that no fresh performance of homage was necessary; all Philip required was a letter assuring him that Edward had meant to swear to be Philip's liege man. Even though Edward did indeed meet Philip at Pont-Sainte-Maxence, his journey may have had a double purpose, especially as it was clearly arranged in great haste and he was hot on the heels of his father, according to the Fieschi letter. It is also significant that in setting off, Edward rode at very high speed, travelling from Eltham to Dover in a day. We cannot rule out the possibility that a merchant with royal connections had informed Edward that his father was travelling with pilgrims in Normandy, causing Edward to set off immediately with a number of trusted men to look for him.

  Both of these possible attempts to find Edward II are tentative, and from a historical perspective it is safest to presume that Edward had no second agenda in going to Normandy or Ireland in 1331. However, from a biographical perspective it is important to be aware that Edward may have been conscientiously undertaking a search for the man, in the most extreme secrecy. In addition, there are other circumstantial indications that he was trying to discover his father's whereabouts. On 31 May he despatched Giles of Spain to seek out Thomas Gurney on the Continent and to bring him back to England. It is very interesting that the man he chose for the task of rounding up the 'murderers' was one of the earl of Kent's supporters, and thus a man who knew Edward II was probably still alive. Later in the year Edward became aware of a dispute between his clerk, John Melburn, and William Fieschi (a kinsman of Manuel Fieschi). William had been removed from his prebend at Strensall in May 1330 and Edward had caused it to be given to John. Before October 1331 Edward discovered that William was attempting 'to draw John into a plea outside the realm concerning certain matters which ought to be brought to the king's attention'. Edward prohibited his preferred candidate, John, from leaving the country until October, and then, when he did let him go to Avignon, he had strict instructions not to engage in other matters apart from his right to the prebend. The evidence - as so often with Edward's secret business - permits nothing more than a question to be raised, but when the question is so important it cannot be ignored. It might well be that Edward heard hints as early as 1331 of as to where his father might be, or where he might be going, and how safe he was, or how compromised.

  *

  After his incognito dash to France, Edward threw himself back into promoting his chivalric regality in England. At the beginning of May he and his men took part in a tournament at Dartford. It was hosted by William Clinton, and Edward fought as a knight on Clinton's side. This is the first recorded instance of him taking part in a tournament as a common knight, not as the commander. In putting himself at risk, he was encouraging his knights to respect him for his valour and for his own qualities, not just his rank. And he did put himself at risk. At the end of this tournament, as he was leaving the field, his horse - a magnificent destrier (warhorse) - threw him to the ground. So displesed was Edward, and so angry, that he changed it for a humble palfrey. Although several of his knights were surprised, and declared it was not becoming for him to ride such a modest steed, Edward was later proved to have been fortunate, for his hot-tempered and sweating destrier threw its rider into a deep part of the river. Had Edward still been riding it, dressed in his armour, he would have drowned.

  One month later
Edward took part in another tournament at Stepney, a four-day event held to celebrate the first birthday of his son, Edward of Woodstock. This event was proclaimed by Robert Morley, who fought against all comers with fifteen men, all dressed in green cloaks decorated with golden arrows. In late September yet another tournament was held, this time at the invitation of William Montagu. Unusually, it was held in the very centre of the city of London, in Cheapside. After a mass sung in memory of his father, and the usual pittances had been doled out to paupers in order to keep up the appearance of his father's decease, Edward joined Montagu and his other chosen knights in dressing as Tartars and leading in procession the 'most noble and most beautiful women of the realm', all dressed in red velvet tunics with white hoods (the colours of St George). Each woman was led by a silver chain attached to a knight's right hand.36 Edward himself led his sister, Eleanor, in the procession, but no doubt paid attention to the damsels around him. Extending invitations to ladies of merchant class was novel. Although the reference to their beauty might explain Montagu's readiness to invite them, in Hainault it was customary for the nobility to fraternise with the richest merchants, and thus the inspiration may have been Queen Philippa's, not Montagu's. Either way, the extension of royal favour to the merchant class was a marked development of Edward's reign, and led to many leading merchants and mayors being knighted.

  Unfortunately on this particular occasion, there was a less than glorious start to proceedings as the high wooden stand in which Queen Philippa was sitting collapsed, and many ladies and knights were injured. Edward furiously declared he would take revenge on the workmen, but before he found the men responsible - whom he would probably have hanged on the spot - Queen Philippa herself begged for him to spare their lives. It was typical of Queen Philippa that she should seek mercy for the men. And it was equally typical of Edward that he should immediately respond to the challenge of disaster with threatened force. Edward did spare the workmen; it did not matter to him whether they lived or died, only that he was the one who made the decision. But perhaps the most telling point with regard to this anecdote is that despite the near death of his wife, he ordered the tournament to continue. Edward was a young man who needed to control events, and, though he might have been persuaded not to hang his negligent workmen, nothing was going to turn him from his intended path.

  Edward's strong mental grasp of a situation, and instinct to control it, was very similar to that exhibited by his grandfather, Edward I. Edward felt a strong affinity towards 'the Hammer of the Scots', as his grandfather was called, who had died six years before he was born. He regularly made spiritual gifts at his grandfather's tomb in Westminster Abbey and treasured the knife that an assassin had used in an attempt to murder Edward I in the Holy Land (on which occasion Edward I had overpowered and killed his assailant). We might also fairly assume that the genes of the elder Edward conditioned the temperament of the younger. But just as important was the legacy of the man's reputation. For the Hammer of the Scots had not just been a warrior, he had been a great lawgiver and a great leader.

  Edward had made much progress in the year since Mortimer's fall, but in terms of leadership he had hardly proved himself. His entertainments were glorious spectacles, but so had been his father's musical interludes and carnivalesque capers. Tournaments were entertaining, and they showed personal metde, and his companions' collective spirit, but they were not an indication of responsibility, and hardly a measure of political judgement. For that, Edward needed another proving ground, and one in which his grandfather had excelled. Parliament.

  A week after the Cheapside tournament, parliament met at Westminster. Edward had agreed the previous year that parliament should meet annually, and although later in his reign he did not always abide by this resolution, for the moment it suited his purposes to do so. It gave him the perfect opportunity to assert himself — and more importantly, to be seen to assert himself - over his nobles. He also came with a specific agenda. He asked the lords to give up the unpopular practice of 'maintenance': shielding their tenants from the law when they had committed a crime. This had been going on for some years, and Edward was directly confronting his nobles by issuing what was in effect a manifesto of fair rule for all, in line with the coronation oaths he had sworn. His request that they give up such practices - rather than forbidding them outright - indicates vestiges of nervousness, or uncertainty, but he clearly hoped to mark out a policy. Unfairness and extrajudicial processes were aspects of lordly domination which he had known only too well.

  One particular question raised at the parliament of 1331 was whether England should go to war with France. Edward wanted to know specifically whether he should seek to recover the lands lost to the English Crown in the war of Saint-Sardos by force or by diplomacy. Parliament responded that diplomacy was the preferred course. Edward consequently embarked on a tortuous series of diplomatic negotiations to try to recover the Agenais. Edward himself probably felt that the time was not right for a continental campaign. But the real question here is why he asked parliament at all. Surely, now that Mortimer was dead, and the consolidation of the reign was Edward's priority, he did not need a war? Was the question just put to demonstrate to parliament that he was prepared to listen to their advice?

  The diplomatic situation in France was stable but not to Edward's advantage. To paraphrase his mother's words, he had been forced to do homage to the son of a count. France was a sore in his mind. After his claim to the throne of France had been withdrawn, his rival, King Philip, had very soon led the French to a remarkable victory at Cassel against the Flemish. Philip had exhorted his men to feats of daring and chivalry, and they had responded to his leadership. Philip was determined to win glory for France by leading a crusade. Philip's name was becoming synonymous with all the virtues which Edward wanted associated with his own. After Edward's renewal of homage in 1331, Philip had even greater superiority in the chivalric pecking order. Although Philip was much older - he was thirty-eight in 1331 - Edward saw the new French king as a definite rival in fame as well as power and royalty. When Philip first expressed his desire to go on crusade, Edward, not to be outdone, supported him. Thus there was a personal dimension to the struggle. Lastly, Scotland rankled with Edward no less than France, and both kingdoms were bound by an alliance to defend the other against England. When Edward suggested using force to reclaim the Agenais, he was not just suggesting war with France, he was suggesting an armed struggle which would force the Scots to join France and attack England, and thus break their truce.

  Edward's relations with Scotland were complicated. He had been forced to ratify the Treaty of Northampton by which he recognised the independence of Robert Bruce's kingdom of Scotland. Bruce had died in 1329, leaving the country in a weak state, with no obvious leader, but Bruce had done his best to ensure the succession. Edward's ten-year-old sister Joan had been married to the seven-year-old king, David II, and her coronation was planned for November 1331. On the other hand, there had been many lords who had never accepted the 'shameful' treaty, due to the loss of their lands north of the border. Edward himself had never forgotten the ignominy of being forced to relinquish part of his kingdom. Nor had he forgotten that the Scots nicknamed his little sister 'Joan Makepeace' on the day she was taken north. He had not forgotten their insults at Stanhope Park, nor their dealings with Isabella and Mortimer rather than him, when he had been the rightful king. As for his sister's marriage, although she was married to his enemy, she was still under age, and so the marriage could not yet have been consummated. That of course was a technicality. The important fact was that Edward was not going to let her status be the cause of his own disinheritance.

  As it happened, parliament's decision not to pursue a war in the Agenais was overtaken by events. Edward Balliol emerged as a leader of the claimants of Scottish lands, 'the Disinherited' as they came to be known. Balliol was the son of the ousted king of Scots, John Balliol, who had ruled the country under Edward I. It made perfect sense for
Edward to allow this adventurer to try his luck. If he was successful, he would rule Scotland as Edward's client king, and, by keeping the northern border secure, he would permit Edward to concentrate on France. If he was unsuccessful, he would tempt the Scots to break the terms of the truce, so that they would probably appear the aggressors in any subsequent war. Balliol swore homage to Edward, and Edward tacitly gave his approval for Balliol to use English ports to gather and launch his invasion. Several of Edward's friends decided to go with Balliol, including Sir Walter Manny and Sir Thomas Ughtred, and they went with his blessing Although Edward issued written orders for the sheriffs to stop the invasion, this was almost certainly a smokescreen; it is likely that he also issued verbal orders for the written orders to be disregarded.