The Perfect King (19 page)

We might ha
ve expected this burst of knightl
y expectation, tourneying and chivalric virtue to have been accompanied by a range of rewards liberally scattered amongst the men who had freed Edward from Mortimer. This was not the case. The rewards were few. Montagu was rewarded with the lordship of Denbigh for leading the plot to arrest Mortimer, which was fitting, as that lordship had been Mortimer's reward for freeing the country from the previous royal manipulator, Hugh Despenser. Men such as the earl of Lancaster and the lawyer Geoffrey le Scrope were also rewarded, and certain knights who had taken part in the arrest received charters in their favour. But there were no huge grants of land and tides. For several years no knight who had assisted in the attack of
1330
was advanced in rank. Edward was fastidiously careful not to be seen to appoint another favourite who would grow rich, ambitious and assume Mortimer's place. Men under Edward III would have to earn their tides and glory. Relieving the king of Mortimer's influence was merely a first step.

There were other reasons not to distribute rewards liberally so early in his career. Edward was still under age - he only turned nineteen in November
1331
- and although he had taken control of the realm he had yet to prove himself as a leader. His letters at this time are marked by his eagerness to ask for advice, whether from parliament or the pope. His approach to his royal status was hands-on and immediate, but his approach to overseas and military affairs was tentative. Would his lords and knights trust his judgement on the field of
battle
? Would men follow his orders in the face of danger? Although it had been prophesied that he would be an all-conquering king, that was not prophesied to happen during his father's lifetime, and Edward did not yet know whether his father was alive or dead. All he knew in
1331
was that it had been foretold that his father would lose all his lands and then regain them and more, and that he would die overseas. His father had now lost all his lands. If Edward were to leave the realm and if some lord seized the opportunity to reinstate his father, if he was still in Britain, the prophecy might yet come true.

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
castle
s 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 Fiesch
i 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, an
d 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.