The Perfect King (34 page)

On
26
January
1340,
Edward finally claimed the tide King of France. Although he had probably weighed up every consideration which had occurred to him, his advisers, his allies and his councils, he could have had no idea how significant this decision would be in English history. He radically altered the focus of the war from being a mere dispute about feudal rights in Aquitaine to an argument about the sovereignty of the whole of France and its dependencies. That argument — to which French historians gave the name 'the Hundred Years War' in the early nineteenth century - did indeed continue for more than a hundred years. In fact it may be argued it lasted for a hundred and fifty years, for although the final battle was fought in
1453,
peace was not agreed until
1492.
It has been described as 'perhaps the most important war in European history'.
It was not until
1802
that George III finally dropped the formal ride 'King of France', after the French Revolution had destroyed the Bourbon monarchy. It is difficult to think of any other single initiative of an English king before Henry VIII's break with Rome which had such long-lasting, widespread and dramatic consequences.

Before his birth it had been predicted that Edward would wear 'three crowns'. The prophecy probably meant the iron, silver and gold crowns of
die Holy Roman Emperor, the title currentl
y borne by Ludvig of Bavaria. Ludvig declined to give up his tide, but Edward was not to be outdone. He already had a good claim to wear the sovereign crown of England, and a claim on the overlordship of
Scotland
. To these he had added the vicarial crown. But even these three were not enough. Now, in the market square of Ghent, in Flanders, he went one better, exceeding the prophecy with a claim on a fourth crown: that of France.

In reality only his English title imparted genuine sovereignty.
Scotland
was almost lost. The Holy Roman Empire had proved an expensive and weak ally, and its counts, margraves and dukes had shown themselves to be undutiful subjects. And Edward had not conquered so much as an inch of French soil. Those who witnessed his proclamation as king of France on
26
January, sitting on a makeshift throne in a marketplace, might have wondered if this was another gesture, as devoid of power as the last. But Edward's French claim was a deeply serious move, for by it he was able to accept overlordship of the Flemish people, and thereby 'conquer' a part of Philip's real
m (in a manner of speaking) with
out having to pay or fight. In shifting his friendships away from the half-hearted German leaders towards Flanders, while keeping Brabant in die alliance, he had forged a much more powerful confederacy, for Flanders and Brabant had a definite interest in English affairs through their dependence on the English wool trade. An alliance with them had the potential to last.

Claiming the throne of France was a complicated business. Not least of the problems was that of which kingdom came first. Was Edward king of 'France and England', or 'England and France'? To the modern reader this might appear a minor point, but to contemporaries it was of grave importance, for it could be construed that it implied precedence and subjection. In October
1337,
when Edward had first contemplated adopting the French title, he had played safe, issuing two sets of letters, one styled 'king of France and England' and the other with the order reversed. After
1337
it had been easy to refer to Philip as 'he who calls himself king of France',

or 'our cousin, Philip de Valois'. But actually claiming the tide was much harder. Philip himself may have contributed to the problem, mocking Edward at first for quartering the arms
of England - the three leopards
—with the fleur de lys of France. Probably before
1340,
Philip pointed out in ridicule that Edward had put the arms of the
little
country of England in the upper dexter quarter - the most important position - thus relegating the arms of France (the largest and richest kingdom in Christendom) to a lesser position. Edward's decision to reverse this, putting
the fleur de lys prominentl
y in the upper dexter quarter, was a direct challenge to Philip, visually demonstrating in vivid blue and gold that he, Edward, was the heir of France.

Philip's response to Edward's claim was surprise and anger. His fury reached a peak on
8
February
1340,
when Edward's new seal arrived. That day Edward issued a declaration to the French people, in French, declaring that, as the Flemings had recognised him as king of France, he invited them to do so too. Now Philip could see for himself, engraved on the seal, the French arms quartered with the Engl
ish. When Philip read the motto
-
'Edward, by the grace of God, king of France and England' he was aghast at his audacity. Then he learnt that Edward had issued the same declaration and issued copies of his seal to all the towns in and around Flanders as well as several places in France. Realising he had been challenged and embarrassed, he ordered a search of all church doors and public places for copies of the letter, and decreed that anyone found carrying a copy was to be regarded as a traitor and hanged.

The pope too was surprised and angered by Edward's claim, stating that the 'sight of his letters, with his new tide and seal engraved with the arms of France and England, caused surprise'. He insisted that heirs of females could not inherit in France, despite the arguments laid before him by Edward's lawyers. He added that, even if they could, there were others closer to the throne than Edward. Then he went on to castigate Edward for accepting 'evil counsel'. In this way he put forward a vehement protest on behalf of his homeland, with direct accusations that those who had advised Edward were untrustworthy and that the allies of France would do Edward no end of harm.

The pope's surprise at Edward's claim was probably genuine. When Edward had first claimed the tide in October
1337,
it was probably only the prompt intervention of the cardinals which had prevented him from sustaining the claim. The pope felt that his cardinals had done enough then to dissuade Edward from adopting the tide, limiting him to merely disputing Philip's right. This may have been effected through secret threats as well as mo
re open persuasion, and, at that
point, this may have included threats to unveil his father, in Italy. Now, thanks to Niccolinus Fieschi, Edward could contain this threat. Perhaps in connection with this matter, it was Niccolinus whom Edward chose to go to explain his actions to the pope. Edward's position was that Philip de Valois had made no attempts to avert war, and although Edward would have been content with a modest attempt at peace, he could see no other option but force. But shortly after Niccolinus's arrival in Avignon, the French, with the help of the pope's marshal, broke into the house in which he was staying and kidnapped him in his nightclothes. Although Benedict was very much in favour of the French at this time, he took the seizure exceptionally seriously, and placed the whole of France under an interdict until Niccolinus Fieschi was set at liberty. To suspend the religious services (including burials, marriages and baptisms), confessions and privileges of an entire kingdom on account of a single offence committed in his own household against a Genoese knight acting for the English king was extreme, to say the least. Philip complained
directly
about the punishment. Whatever the real purpose of Niccolinus's mission, there was more to his seizure than a violation of diplomatic immunity. He had become as important to the pope as he was to Edward. Pope Benedict hanged all those he suspected of being involved. With regard to his marshal, who committed suicide in gaol before he could be hanged, the benign pontiff had the man's body exposed on a gibbet 'for the birds to eat'.

The English were the most surprised of al
l by Edward's new titl
e. Although Edward decided on a solution with regard to the order of his kingdoms - 'king of France and England' for international affairs, and 'king of England and France' for matters relating to the British Isles - not even he could justify having more than one coat of arms. For the English to know that their king had adopted the arms of France and set them above those of England was confusing and damaging to English pride. It was threatening too, because his decision to adopt this co
at of arms and titl
e was made without any reference or explanation to parliament. Combined with his demands for money and his other high-handed orders since leaving England, it was beginning to seem that he gave little thought to the people of his homeland, and respected
their
independence even less.

Edward's point of view was very different. Eighteen months on the Continent had broadened his horizons. Here he was, the Vicar of the Holy Roman Empire, the self-proclaimed king of France, and a champion of Christendom: it is easy to see why he did not relish the prospect of returning to a small island to beg for every tenth scraggy sheep off the South Downs. But although Edward's conceit, anger and frustration sometimes blinded him, and made him act rashly, like his self-defeating father, he had not completely lost touch with reality. His claim on France and the vicariate were only made possible by revenues derived from English land and English sheep. If he wanted to reclaim all of Gascony, including the Agenais, and defend England against any counter-attack, then those sheep were important.

Edward had planned to return to England early in December
1339,
and had written to the duke of Brabant arranging to leave hostages during his absence, hoping to wriggle out of the terms of his earlier financial agreement. This did not happen, possibly because the Flanders negotiations took longer than expected, possibly because the duke of Brabant refused him permission to leave, or possibly due to Edward deciding that his proclamation to the French throne had to be made while he was still in Flanders, on French sovereign territory. Whichever it was, events were now moving quickly, and even Edward was having difficulty maintaining control. Stuck in Ghent, he probably convinced himself that he could rely on past decisions of parliament to support his adoption of the French tide, and that a belated explanation would be acceptable. But his first inclination -to return to England and do his explaining up front - was the better one. In January the commons again refused to grant him a new subsidy. They would confer further and give him a formal answer in February. Such continued resistance from mere commoners had never before been voiced in an English parliament, and it alarmed him. He needed to return to England straightaway.

Edward landed in England on
21
February
1340,
having left his heavily pregnant queen in Ghent. Two days earlier the commons had returned their final verdict. They had consulted with those they represented and they would grant no further taxation without concessions. Adapting quickly to the sensibilities of the English, and aware that these men of the shires and towns regarded themselves as representing those who had chosen them - a new development in itself - Edward issued a summons for them to attend another parliament at which he could address their grievances. In order to pre-empt criticism over setting the arms of France above those of England, he explained in the writ of summons that it had not been his intention to prejudice the kingdom of England by assuming the tide of France. Indeed, by
29
March, when parliament gathered in his presence for the first time in three years, Edward was in an attentive, concession-ready mode. He was prepared to say what the people wanted to hear, and to grant whatever they demanded.

Parliament had been worried by Edward's repeated high-handedness, and it assembled with a view to listing all of its many demands. Edward had only one requirement: money. If the commons wanted reform, they would have to agree first to finance Edward's war, for that was the bedrock of his policy: to keep the enemies of England on the defensive and in their own lands. To this the commons did agree. In fact they did more than just agree, they encouraged him and supported him in this policy by granting him every ninth sheep, fleece and sheaf for two years.
8
Those who lived in forests and wastes, and foreign merchants, were to be taxed at a fifteenth of their goods, but it was stressed that it was not the wish of the king, nor of the magnates, nor of the commons, that this tax of a fifteenth should be extended to 'poor cottagers or those who lived by their labour' (this was the first time tax relief had been granted for the poor). Parliament also granted a duty of forty shillings on every sack of wool, every three hundred sheepskins and every last of leather exported. This generosity permitted parliament to ask for much in return. Liberties were confirmed, debts to the Crown were pardoned, and delays in the administration of justice were ordered to be dealt with. The use of standard English weights and measures was implemented throughout the kingdom. The method of appointing of sheriffs — widely hated officers of state — was reformed. The Walton Ordinances, which Edward had ordered when leaving England in
1338,
were wholly repealed. The outdated custom of Englishry was dispensed with forever. Purveyance was dealt with, as well as rights of presentation to church benefices. A permanent baronial committee, appointed by parliament, was established to oversee all royal
taxation and expenditure Lastl
y, the question of the subjection of England to the kingdom of France w
as firmly and unambiguously settl
ed. Edward undertook that 'the realm of England never was or ought to be in the obedience of the kings of France' and 'that our realm of England and the people of the same shall never be made obedient to us, nor our heirs and successors, as kings of France'.