Many of the malcontents who plotted against the regime or who even dreamed about overthrowing it looked to Roger Mortimer of Wigmore as their potential leader, but he was safely locked up in the Tower of London in quarters described as ‘less elegant than were seemly’. Until August 1323, that is. Although officially sentenced to life imprisonment, Mortimer guessed that the king and Despenser would not fail to dispose of him if ever they felt he was a real threat, and he therefore contrived to do what, according to extant records, only one other prisoner had ever done before – to escape from England’s most secure gaol.
The feast-day of St Peter ad Vincula, the patron saint of the Tower church, which was always celebrated by the garrison with heavy drinking, fell on 1 August. Mortimer’s friends won the sub-lieutenant of the Tower, Gerald de Alspaye, to their cause, and he was able to make sure that the guards’ drinks were spiked. To avoid incriminating himself, Gerald also consumed drugged wine after admitting the prisoner’s friends. They attacked the wall of his cell with picks and crowbars until they had made a hole large enough to crawl through and to allow Mortimer into the king’s kitchen. After that, with the aid of a rope ladder, he negotiated the roofs and walls and so reached the river, making his way, via Hainault, to Paris, where he presented himself to the new king, Charles IV, who had succeeded his brother, Philip.
King Charles was glad to receive him because a dispute had erupted between him and Edward over a skirmish on the border of Gascony, and this led in August 1324 to a French invasion of the English province. Long negotiations to resolve the crisis ended with an agreement for Queen Isabella to go to France as her husband’s representative to discuss terms, and she left England in March 1325. The terms subsequently agreed were that Edward would personally travel to Paris to do homage for his lands. He agreed, but at the last moment changed his mind. He was in a dilemma. He did not know who, if anyone, he could trust. Charles might renege on his agreement, and Mortimer was at large in France, as were other of the king’s enemies, who might try to waylay him, possibly with the French king’s connivance. Despenser was persona non grata in Charles’s domain but, if he were left behind without Edward’s protection, what might happen to him? Finally, Edward could not even be sure of his wife’s intentions, for relations between the royal couple had broken down almost entirely. According to one chronicler, Isabella issued an ultimatum from her brother’s court: ‘Marriage is a joining together of man and woman, maintaining the undivided habit of life … 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.’6
Edward finally accepted a compromise. He would confer on his 13-year-old son, Edward, his French lands, and the prince would do homage for them to his Uncle Charles, and in September the boy joined his mother at the French court. By the end of the year Isabella and Mortimer had become lovers, and the couple, together with their small band of compatriots, pledged themselves to the overthrow of the Despensers and, probably, the king. Charles declined to aid and abet them, and they travelled north to the duchy of Hainault, whose count, William, was a cousin by marriage of Isabella. He was prepared to back Mortimer’s plans with men and matériel in return for a marriage treaty between his own daughter, Philippa, and the heir to the English throne. This news panicked Edward and the Despensers, who made urgent but belated plans to see off the threatened invasion.
When Queen Isabella and her small army landed at Orwell, Suffolk, on 24 September 1326, the true extent of the king’s unpopularity soon became clear. As Isabella approached the capital Edward’s followers simply disappeared. Within days he and Despenser were fleeing westwards, hoping to reach Despenser lands and gambling on the support of the Welsh. They may have pinned their hopes on reaching Ireland. No lords came to their support, however. Everyone looked to the queen and her champion, and soon London was in Mortimer’s hands:
A letter was sent to London by the queen and her son and was fixed at daybreak upon the cross in Chepe, and a copy of the letter on the windows elsewhere … to the effect that the commons should be aiding with all their power in destroying the enemies of the land, and Hugh le Despenser in especial, for the common profit of all the realm … Wherefore the Commonalty proceeded to wait upon the Mayor and other great men of the City … so much so that the Mayor crying mercy with clasped hands went to the Guildhall and granted the commons their demand and cry was accordingly made in Chepe that the enemies to the king, the queen and their son should all quit the City upon such peril as might ensue.7
The loss of London was crucial to the king’s fortunes. With no capital and no army Edward could only try to evade his enemies. The fugitives – which was what the king and his friend had become – were pursued from castle to castle, refuge to refuge, until they reached Llantrisant, where they were captured on 16 November. Meanwhile, on 26 October, Prince Edward was proclaimed guardian of the realm at Bristol. The next day the elder Despenser was beheaded in the same city. His son survived until 24 November, when he met the same fate at Hereford.
On 7 January 1327 parliament met at Westminster to decide what to do with the ex-king. It was a question without precedent, and the solemnity of what they were about cannot have failed to impress itself on the minds of all present. Articles were drawn up listing Edward’s faults: Edward was condemned as incompetent and of being ruled by favourites; he had ignored the sound advice of mature barons and churchmen; he had behaved with brutality towards his own people; and his foreign affairs had been a disaster – he had failed to exert control over Scotland, had antagonized the French and had placed his continental lands in jeopardy. The fact that Edward had a male heir who was not far from reaching his majority made it easier for his subjects to contemplate setting aside their consecrated king.
Edward was being held at Kenilworth, in the castle of the late Earl of Lancaster that he had taken so triumphantly in 1322. It was there, on 20 January, that he was presented with a demand for him to resign the crown to his son. As a broken man, weeping tears of grief, Edward finally submitted to the inevitable. Prince Edward formally acceded on 25 January and was crowned on 2 February. It was agreed that the ex-king should be kept in comfortable, honourable confinement for the rest of his natural life, but this was never a realistic option, for he immediately became the focus of opposition to the new regime, and various plots were hatched to effect his release. For this reason Edward was moved, usually secretly and by night, from location to location until he reached Berkeley Castle, near Gloucester, on 6 April. Even here attempts were made in July and September to set him free. Such plots, in effect, sealed his fate, and on 21 September it was officially stated that Edward had died of natural causes. The truth is that the ex-king was murdered, probably on the direct orders of Mortimer and without the knowledge of Isabella and her son.
EDWARD III 1327–77
About the time that young Edward had the crown thrust upon him by the machinations of his mother Isabella and her lover, Roger Mortimer, William Langland, the first poet of the English language, was born. He was writing his only extant poem, The Vision of Piers Plowman, during the closing years of the reign, so his reflections on the state of society must be seen as one sensitive observer’s assessment of the state of England under the seventh Plantagenet king. The picture he paints is bleak indeed, and it is supported by the evidence of contemporary chroniclers and the verdict of most later historians.
Edward III’s reign falls into two parts, divided by the appalling cataclysm of the Black Death (1348–50), but it was not only that natural disaster that was responsible for the decay of the existing social order. Feudalism was collapsing under the weight of its own complex (and often contradictory) structures. The power of the monarch was being challenged by parliament, which established an existence of its own, separate from the will of the king. The power of the church was being challenged by protesters at all levels of society. In foreign affairs the old disputes between the French and English kings over the v
aguely defined area of Aquitaine expanded into a contest for the crown of France, setting in motion what would later be known as the Hundred Years War. The early stages of that war were marked by impressive English victories, and Edward enjoyed a reputation as a great warrior-king, but the fundamental issues between France and England remained unresolved at his death. The same can be said of Anglo-Scottish relations. Edward’s campaigns north of the border succeeded only in strengthening the bonds between Scotland and France and reinforcing the Scottish kings’ determination to achieve undisputed independence.
1327–30
The young king was provided with a council of peers and bishops, under the nominal headship of Henry, Earl of Lancaster (brother of the executed Thomas of Lancaster), a quorum of whom were to be constantly in attendance wherever Edward was. In reality, Mortimer and Isabella, the queen mother, controlled the government. This inevitably created conflict, especially when Mortimer used his position, quite brazenly, to accumulate lands and offices. At the parliament held in Salisbury in October 1328 he took to himself the title Earl of March – that is, the Welsh Marches – and it was quickly apparent that he was no better than the Despensers.
Grumbling against the regime soon turned to plots. Lancaster and other nobles refused to attend the 1328 parliament, and in January 1329 they mounted an armed rebellion, although this was swiftly suppressed by Mortimer. Lancaster and others were pardoned, but Mortimer took the opportunity to purge the upper reaches of society of the men he feared most, and the king’s uncle, Edmund of Kent, was foremost among those executed (1330). Mortimer seems to have learned nothing from the fate of Edward II’s favourites. He lived in a style of pomp and luxury that put the royal court in the shade, and one of his earliest displays of personal magnificence was a round table, normally the preserve of princes, where jousts and other feats of arms were staged amid gorgeous splendour.
Mortimer’s reputation was further damaged by his poor handling of the Scottish problem. In the spring of 1337 an English army was assembled at York to march north and assert Edward’s rights as overlord. The expedition was marred at the outset by a serious clash between Welsh archers and mercenaries hired to Mortimer and Isabella by their old friend, the Count of Hainault. The English army spent most of the summer trying to bring the Scots to battle but only succeeded in wasting time, money and energy in fruitless pursuit. Jean Froissart recorded the misery of the army, wandering the rain-drenched border country in search of their enemies. He tells us that the soldiers were offered food by the English peasants and had to pay ‘sixpence for a badly baked loaf that was worth only a penny, and two and sixpence for a gallon of wine worth only sixpence’.1 On one occasion the English nearly suffered the humiliation of having their king captured when a surprise raid on the royal camp almost reached Edward’s tent. In March 1328 a treaty was agreed at Edinburgh between the two countries. The English recognized Robert Bruce as lawful king of Scotland, with full authority to negotiate with other rulers (such as the king of France). Edward’s sister Joan was betrothed to Bruce’s infant son and heir, David. No one was more furious at this climb-down than Edward III, who showed his displeasure by absenting himself from the marriage ceremony in July 1328.
The king was, by now, plotting on his own account. Although closely watched by his mother and her lover, he was able to establish a small, secret network of supporters with the object of taking power into his own hands. In October 1330 a parliament was summoned at Nottingham. Mortimer, Isabella and Edward were lodged in the castle, which was closely guarded by Mortimer’s Welsh archers. However, the king had organized with the castellan to admit his friend William Montagu through a secret passage under cover of darkness. Mortimer was overpowered after a brief struggle, despatched to London and once more found himself a prisoner in the Tower. Edward issued a proclamation that he had now assumed full royal power and authority. Parliament was moved to Westminster and there, in November, formally condemned the Earl of March as a traitor. On the 29th of the month he was marched right through the capital to Tyburn and there, without any consideration being shown for his status, was hanged, drawn and quartered.
1331–6
Anglo-French relations were still troubled by the issue of the status of Aquitaine, and they became more complicated still in January 1328, when Charles IV died without a male heir. There were three potential claimants to the throne, and one of them, Philip de Valois, Charles’s cousin, had himself crowned as Philip VI. Edward III also had a title to the French throne through his mother, who was sister to the late king. This claim, however, was held to be invalid in France, where, according to Salic Law, no woman could inherit the royal title. It was also clear that the French would not countenance the union of the crowns of France and England. In May 1329 Edward had crossed the Channel to pay homage to King Charles, thereby implicitly confirming Charles as king. However, Edward harboured ambitions that, for the time being at least, had to be concealed because of the vulnerability of his possessions in southwest France. In 1329, following fresh French threats, Edward went to France again to renew his homage, but he took care to travel incognito, disguised as a merchant.
Following the death of Robert Bruce in 1329, Scotland descended once more into political anarchy. The new king, David II, was a child of just five years, and Edward Balliol, currently living in France, asserted his claim as the son of John Balliol, who had died in 1296. He asked for Edward’s military help but the king (officially) declined to break his treaty oath. However, once Balliol had landed in Scotland and won a victory over David’s supporters at the Battle of Duppin Moor (August 1332), Edward reconsidered his decision. Only after Balliol had suffered a reverse and fled across the border did Edward decide to act on his behalf. In May 1333 he brought his own army up to Berwick to join Balliol in laying siege to the town. Sir Archibald Douglas arrived to relieve the town with a numerically superior force, outnumbering the army of Edward and Balliol by at least two to one, and battle was joined at Halidon Hill, to the north of Berwick, on 19 July. The site of the battle in 1333 was a broken ring of low hills surrounding a bowl of boggy ground. Edward took up his position on Halidon Hill and waited for Douglas to attack. Because of the soft terrain, both commanders dismounted their knights. Douglas put his faith in his superior numbers and hoped to force the Anglo-Scottish host back towards the River Tweed. Edward placed contingents of archers on both wings and relied on the fact that his enemy would have to attack uphill and come within range of the bowmen before they reached the hilltop. His stratagem proved decisive. This engagement provided Edward with his first battlefield victory and was important in the development of military tactics.
Berwick was not Scotland, and, although their king was living in exile in France, the supporters of David II were not vanquished. Edward spent much of the next three years trying to bolster Balliol’s claim, but every time he ventured deep into mountainous Scottish terrain his enemy simply left him to waste his efforts wandering around in hostile country looking for a fight. Meanwhile, the situation in France was deteriorating rapidly, and in November 1336 Edward had to make a truce with the Scots in order to concentrate on securing his territories across the Channel.
1337–47
Edward spent the next decade fighting a war on two fronts, which was horrendously expensive, achieved little and set the king at odds with his principal advisers.
The conflict with France was the result of a personal clash between two belligerent, violent, choleric and ambitious monarchs. Philip was under pressure from a domineering wife to assert his rights. As the first cousin of three kings of France, all of whom had died young and without male heirs, he had come unexpectedly to the throne, and there were others who contested his right. Some other claims, including Edward’s, relied on succession through the female line, and to avoid the types of problem that, according to contemporary thinking, were inclined to attend rule by, or in the name of, women, Philip’s predecessor had had the Salic Law enacted, but it was not universally acce
pted and Philip felt some vulnerability on that score. Therefore, he forcefully asserted his authority in all parts of his realm.
Aquitaine was a running sore, and there appeared to be no end to the border disputes between the French kings and the Anglo-Gascons, whose first allegiance was to the kings of England. In May 1337 Philip severed the Gordian knot by annexing Aquitaine. Edward had no intention of being deprived of his inheritance or of the considerable income he derived from his continental lands. However, he could not declare war on his feudal overlord without risking papal excommunication. He therefore asserted his claim to the crown of France as a casus belli, and from 1340 he quartered the arms of France with those of England on his coat of arms.
A state of war existed between the two realms, but this did not lead immediately to major military conflict. Both kings set about borrowing money and seeking allies for the coming contest, and Philip ordered naval raids on England’s southern coast. In June 1340 Edward managed to put a stop to this. He was crossing to the Low Countries with a small army when he encountered a fleet of some 200 sailing vessels and galleys in the harbour of Sluys in the Scheldt estuary. Philip had spent months assembling this force and bringing ships round from the Mediterranean for a massive attack and possibly even an invasion, but in the bloody naval battle that followed on 24 June, the English routed their enemies and captured 190 French vessels.
The Plantagenets: The Kings That Made Britain Page 10