The Perfect King

by Ian Mortimer

  And then there was the relic collection. Both of Edward's parents had gathered relics with a pious fascination, and Edward had inherited his father's collection, and probably his fascination too. In 1332 he had 'eight silver gilded images of saints, each standing and carrying their own relics', the saints being St George, St Leonard, St John the Baptist, St James the Less, St Agnes, St Margaret, St Mary Magdalene, and St Agatha. He also possessed relics of the saint-king Edward the Confessor, St Stephen, St - Adrian and St Jerome. And most important of all he possessed a thorn from the Crown of Thorns and the Neith Cross, a fragment of the True Cross, which he kept safely with his other relics at the Tower of London.

  To go beyond the religious routine of royalty, and to investigate Edward's actual faith, is much more difficult. The problem lies in that virtually all the evidence relates to his showing his religion, and thus potentially relates

  to a religious or a political statement rather than his spirituality. The temptation therefore is to do the opposite, and to look for signs of his apparent lack of spirituality, such as his merciless hanging of Thomas Seton at Berwick, his massacre of one hundred after the battle of Halidon Hill, and his order to execute those who had imperilled his queen's life at Cheapside. But it would be rash to presume that what we assume to be 'mercilessness' automatically implies a lack of faith. If the punishments were ruthless rather than merciless, it would be possible to see how they could have been compatible with spiritual conviction. No one would doubt that Edward II was deeply spiritual and yet he too was capable of atrocious acts of barbarity, such as the massacre following Boroughbridge. We must remember that Edward was able to forgive men, and to a far greater extent than his father. He forgave Mortimer's supporters, and he forgave the Cheapside workmen after Philippa pleaded for their lives. Also, to kill men in or after a battle was not an ungodly thing to do. Subjects who took up arms against the king were flouting God's law, and, if exacting retribution in the name of the saints, to punish them with death was not necessarily an irreligious act.

  There are some signs that, even at the age of twenty, Edward had strong spiritual beliefs and was convinced - if not fervent - in his faith. Three points particularly stand out in relation to this early stage of his life. The first is that he often gave away his possessions - even presents which had been made specially for him — but he did not give away relics. The lavishly illustrated books which Philippa gave him at their wedding were broken up and given away, as was the wonderful basin decorated with Caesar, Judas Maccabeus, Arthur and other figures which she gave him in 1333. Religious artefacts were treated more carefully, suggesting either genuine religious passion or a streak of superstition, or both. Next we may note that some of Edward's religious choices were passionate and lifelong. For instance, there is a marked contrast between his patronage of the local, Northern English saints in the 1330s (when fighting in Scotland with armies of Northern Englishmen) and his lifelong adoptions of St George, St Thomas the Martyr and the Virgin. He made almost yearly pilgrimages to the shrine of St Thomas at Canterbury, the saint who best represented the guilt of English kings. He paid even more attention to the cult of the Virgin. Most chroniclers record him swearing an oath in her name. From the 1330s to the 1350s he made special efforts to visit her statues. In 1338, when making an exceptionally rapid journey north, he took the time to stop at die image of the Virgin Mary in Darlington and donated two cloths of gold to the church there.'3 As this was a 'secret journey, one could well have forgiven him for not making such a detour, or such a gift, and thus it points to a real engagement with the cult. Likewise he went miles out of his way secretly to visit a statue of the Virgin in Herefordshire in the 1350s. In later years he even included her image on his seal. Such sustained support went beyond religion as a matter of routine, and beyond a mere propaganda statement. We have to consider it as an indicator of genuine, lifelong devotion.

  The third sign of his youthful spirituality is his combination of war and spirituality. The crusade, promoted by his rival Philip, remained on the agenda even while relations with France were deteriorating. It was still being discussed in July 1334, and even in September of that year Edward sent negotiators to set up a meeting between himself and Philip so they could discuss it. This should not be taken too seriously as an indicator of faith, for there were political overtones to the crusade of the 1330s. Nevertheless there is no doubt that, beyond crusading, war and spirituality were interwoven in his imagination. Edward's personal appropriation of St George as his personal saint as well as the national one is particularly revealing. Although his choice of saint was military, and thus perhaps political, he was under no obligation to justify his militarism with religious patronage, it was a matter of choice. It was, moreover, a choice made at a very young age. He could simply have established a jousting society, like the count of Holland, but instead he subjected his militarism to saintly protection. And then he worked tirelessly at promoting die saint. Even some of Edward's tournament armour at this time was white with a red cross, putting him in the position of being St George's champion, wearing die saint's arms. This put a heavy responsibility on the wearer, to live up to the expectations of a saint, especially if he went into battle invoking the saint's protection. Edward may have been deliberately publicising his relationship with St George, the Virgin, St Cuthbert and a number of other English saints, and he may have been making 'a show of his religion', but it was very probably based on a sincere spiritual footing. Had he or his followers perceived that St George had reason to doubt his sincerity, he and they could have expected retribution of a kind which would have put an end to him, and them, and all their ambitions. His confidence never seems to have suffered in this way - not in battle at least - and so we may be sure that his faith remained firm, ardent, and grateful to the victory-delivering saints.

  As a result of all this, we may look at Edward as a young man who genuinely believed that he was a soldier of God, a champion of St George. His spirituality may have extended no further than the point of his sword, but his approach to God was that of a genuine supplicant, not a cynic. He had no pretensions to be spiritually humble, nor did he have any leanings towards theology, nor was he yet a great patron of ecclesiastical architecture. But he did believe in his calling as a warrior, and he believed his cause - to fight for England - had been divinely sanctioned. As he came south from his victory at Halidon Hill in 1333, he repeatedly gave thanks to God, both for his own sake and for the sake of all those who were with him. His leadership, his warring, his diplomacy and even the well-being of his kingdom were all founded on the fact of his divine appointment, and the success of his reign depended on his retaining God's favour. Much more than just English military skill had been put to the test at Halidon Hill, and confirmed.

  *

  Edward spent Christmas 1333 at Wallingford Castle. The feasting was sumptuous, the joy of the court was unbridled and royal extravagance was let loose. All the objectives Edward could reasonably have set himself to achieve by the age of twenty-one had been met and surpassed. Any doubts he had had in 1330 about his taking power from Mortimer were long-since forgotten. Any doubts he had had in his own abilities had proved to be merely a youthful lack of confidence. Although he had been very cautious about handing large rewards to his nobles, now in return for their part in his victory he richly rewarded men like William Montagu, to whom he gave Wark Castle and the Isle of Man. There was no longer any threat to his kingship. Indeed, it is likely that in February 1333, even before the siege of Berwick, he received further information about his father's whereabouts, reassuring him that the man was not in England, but under papal protection.

  Edward's family life was broadening out too. He had forgiven his mother for supporting Mortimer, and left her free to indulge herself in collecting jewellery and relics, and even augmented her income. Rumours of her affair and the possible birth of a bastard son of Mortimer's had lingered on, and had reached the papal curia, but the pope now wrote to express his relief that
such rumours had been 'discredited'. Interestingly, although close relationships between sons and their mothers often impact negatively on their wives, there is some evidence that Philippa was supportive of Isabella. When Isabella's name had first fallen into disrepute, Philippa had helped her, and the pope had written to acknowledge and thank her for her support. So it seems that Edward's family life was as happy as could be. In March 1334 he granted Philippa the revenues of the earldom of Chester to support the infant earl, Edward, and their other children. Philippa was now expecting their second daughter, Joan. More children meant more possible marriage alliances, and Edward soon began considering how best to marry off his family. His daughter Isabella he planned to marry to the heir to the Castillian throne. His brother John he decided should marry Mary, daughter of the lord of Coucy. Two years earlier he had tried to negotiate a marriage between his three-year-old son, Edward, and a daughter of Philip of France, but the worsening relations between the two countries had ended that. Little Edward remained 'on the shelf'. Newly born Joan also escaped her father's enthusiastic international matchmaking, for the moment at least.

  In the wake of Halidon Hill the exuberance of the court hit a new high in its tournaments and games. It is difficult even to begin to represent the vast expenditure and huge range of elaborate costume and gilded and decorative armour which Edward now ordered for himself and his courtiers. One writ of March 1334 may be considered representative. It included:

  Eighteen green surcoats made for the king's knights embroidered on the chest with two images, one of a knight, the other of a damsel, and covered with leaves and branches of gold. Thirty-one striped blue surcoats with hoods for the king's squires embroidered on the chest with the heads of a knight and a damsel encircled by silver foliage. Seven surcoats made of cloth of gold with blue sleeves for the king's minstrels, on each sleeve an image in gold and silver of a minstrel performing his art. Three hoods of scarlet with peacocks, snails and other beasts worked in gold, silver and other colours, all encircled in gold. Two suits for the king to be worn in the joust, one of which is of Tartar cloth fringed with gold and bearing escutcheons (shields) containing images of a lioness and leaves in gold and vermilion velvet; the other likewise with a lioness in a field of silver, studded with silver rosettes and quartered with red velvet, along with a banner of the same livery. Seven blue surcoats trimmed with miniver and embroidered with velvet leaves. Seven brown scariet hoods studded with one thousand white pearls around the edge, the pearls being provided by the king for two of the hoods and by John (of Eltham) for the remaining five. Five more brown and scarlet surcoats made for the king and trimmed with miniver and embroidered with a letter 'M' above the arms, within which are two silken figures holding a roll bearing further silken letters.25 A bed for the king made of silk, sparkling with powdered gold and studs of jasper and decorated with foliage and baboons ... ten cotehardies (tunics) for the joust made of Norwich worsted and russet. Three russet coats for the king, William Montagu and John Meules, each coat bearing two figures on the chest each carrying a roll in their hand. A russet coat for the king with a roll above the arms bearing silken letters. Four surcoats of brown scarlet trimmed with miniver for the king, William Montagu, Robert Ufford and Ralph Neville, each bearing little spaces above the arms containing a figure holding a roll of silken letters ... Twelve black surcoats for the king; twelve hoods lined in red scarlet and adorned with red roses. Thirty-five coats for the king's esquires lined with white woollen cloth; thirty-five lined hoods for the same esquires. Two suits of armour for William Trussell and two for William Lengleis. A harness for the king for three horses bearing the arms of William Montagu. Four aketons for the king of red cloth adorned with divers heads and leaves. A suit for Thomas Purchaz and two aketons for the king Six white surcoats of embroidered cloth. A suit of armour for the king embroidered with baboons and other animals; a hood studded with pearls; a pair of pearl garters for the king encrusted with gold. A surcoat and hood of red velvet for the earl of Chester, the king's son, the hood being embroidered with pearls and the surcoat with gold and silver; fifty-six pearls delivered to the prince's tailor to make buttons for the prince's surcoat, each pearl being priced at i2d. A surcoat of russet adorned with golden branches and foliage made for the king and lined with fur .. .'

  Imagine a total of commissioned items amounting to twenty times this list for a single year. The quantity of costume, its richness and the imagination which went into designing and making it, are extraordinary, even for a medieval king. This particular writ includes a series of hangings 'all of which have been ornamented at the king's request' showing that Edward was personally behind-at least some of the court's brilliant decoration. The unbounded extravagance of this display is something to which historians have rarely done justice, and biographers have never even mentioned. Edward's mounting debts have usually been blamed exclusively on his wars, but making new and dazzling costumes for dozens and sometimes hundreds of men on a monthly or even more frequent basis cannot have helped the royal finances, especially when they were made of expensive cloths and - for the elite - decorated with furs and pearls.

  Picking out choice items from an adjacent writ enrolled on the same parchment roll, we see that Edward's St George tournament armour was accompanied by 'three horse harnesses of the same livery with pennons, flags and standards'. He also ordered 'two great suits of armour for tournaments, one for the joust embroidered with the arms of Lionel'. This was for just one tournament, that at Dunstable in January 1334. The reason for Edward's choice of Sir Lionel - a knight of the Arthurian Round Table - was not that he was a hero, for he tried to kill his beloved brother. It was a reference to growing up under Mortimer. Lionel and his brother, Sir Bors, had grown up under the domination of an interloper lord who had made himself king at their father's expense. No fewer than 135 knights and esquires took part in the Dunstable tournament, and Edward seems to have clothed many of them elaborately. And for the next tournament, he clothed them all in something different. The whole court and all its chivalric onlookers were dressing up, role-playing and changing identities in line with the king's whims and passions.

  So many clothes are mentioned in the accounts that it is difficult to believe that Edward wore any single item regularly, perhaps with the exception of his golden and gem-encrusted eagle crest. This goes for armour as well as daily wear. In 1330 he employed seven armourers, including several foreigners, showing that he used not just the best local manufacturers (such as Thomas Copham, and William Standerwyk) but foreign-born experts, such as John of Cologne, Gerard of Tournai and Peter of Bruges. He also imported pieces of German and Italian armour.-' In 1338 his list of armourers included several more foreigners, James of Liege, Gottschalk and Arnold of Cologne and Herman Keplyn.*8 And all these men were turning out quantities of equipment. At Barnard Castle in July 1334 he ordered the controller of his wardrobe, William Zouche, to account with Gerard of Tournai for a total of one hundred and seven pieces of armour then brought to his chamber, including a number of 'black helmets for war', burnished helmets, tournament helmets 'with gilded eye-holes', a complete suit of jousting armour and, most interestingly, 'a plate corset lined in white silk for the king's person [and] an identical corset for the person of William Montagu', early appearances of the breastplate. Armour developed very rapidly over the course of Edward's reign, so that the general coif or hauberk of chainmail - ubiquitous in 1330 - had become a thing of the past for the leading knights in his army by 1345.

  Those who benefited most from all this elaborate costume-making were, of course, those closest to Edward: his wife and his selected band of knights. Even after Halidon Hill, Edward continued his bonding exercise with his leading men by giving them costly tournament gear and linking them into a fraternity of warriors. He himself would fight in their mock-armies during a tournament, or joust in their coats of arms. On many occasions he ordered a pair of suits so that a particularly favoured knight should be seen to be dressed like the king. In lat
e 1334 or early 1335 he ordered 'two surcoats of tawny-red decorated with various birds, from the mouth of which springs forth a roll bearing song lyrics and another bearing a different legend', one of these surcoats being for the king, the other for Sir William Montagu. Over and over again we read of clothes being given away. Some of these were for the king and later distributed after being made or worn once. Others were made expressly for the band of his intimate knights.31 Yet other items were made so that Edward and his son were seen in the same livery, accentuating their royalty. On one occasion, although his son was still only a toddler, Edward ordered for himself, his son Edward and Sir William Montagu a brown coat and mantle each. These were:

  embroidered with gold trees and garnished with silk fowl, trimmed with gold throughout, and decorated with birds on branches; on the breasts of these birds were two embroidered angels studded with pearls holding a golden crossbow crafted with gilt silver and a string of pearls.1'

  In this way the little prince was tied into the band of close knights at court. By the age of four he had a little palfrey of his own, and was receiving decorative apparel for it. By the age of seven he had his own suit of armour.34 He would have never have known a time when he was not associated with the military elite of England. The only significant difference from Edward's own upbringing was that his son was surrounded by this new confraternity of knights, led by his warrior father, which was most unlike growing up at the court of Edward II.