Gaveston had been threatened and how he had once left her behind at
Scarborough in his need to escape with his beloved friend. If Hugh le Despenser had been threatened he would have been in a state of panic.
Oh yes, indeed, it was unforgivable.
Edward could not continue the Scottish war. The Scots could not be driven
out of Yorkshire. They had a grand leader in Bruce and what the English lacked was just such leadership. Edward was weak; Lancaster was little better. It was a sorry time for England.
Edward had been forced to suggest a two-year truce with Scotland, and
rather to his surprise Bruce had agreed. He did not know then that Bruce was becoming alarmed by the state of his health. Years before he had been in contact with lepers and the dreadful disease had begun to show itself. It was alarming and he needed rest from the rigours of a soldier’s life and for this reason he was ready enough to agree.
Edward was jubilant. He was the sort of man who could live happily in the
moment and shut his eyes to the disasters threatening the future which to the discerning eye would appear to be inevitable. He was behaving as foolishly over Hugh le Despenser as he had over Gaveston and the lesson of that earlier
relationship appeared to have made no impression on him. The Despensers were as greedy as Gaveston had been, as power-hungry and because of this, growing as unpopular with the people.
He will never learn, thought Isabella.
She was pleased that Edward was to go to France to pay homage to the King
— Isabella’s brother Philip V— for Ponthieu. It would give her an opportunity of sounding Philip and trying to discover how much help she could get from him if she should need it. She wondered whether it might be possible one day to place herself at the head of those barons who had had enough of the King and the Despensers. She had often thought of it when Gaveston had been alive, but it had not been possible then. At that time she had not been the mother of two fine boys. Young Edward was growing up long-legged and flaxen-haired like his
father and his grandfather; he was also showing a certain seriousness which seemed to please everyone.
She had heard it said: ‘That one is going to be Great Edward over again.’
That was what she liked to hear.
Now there was the journey to Amiens. She liked to travel and in her own
country she was always greeted with loyal affection. She noticed that the people were less effusive towards Edward. It was natural. News of his neglect of her would have reached the country and the people were offended on her account.
It was pleasant to be at the French Court again. She found it more graceful than that of England. The clothes of the women were more elegant. She was
ashamed of her own and determined to have some gowns made to wear in
France and take back with her.
Edward did the necessary homage and she had an opportunity of talking
alone to her brother.
Poor Philip! He looked far from well. His skin was yellowish and he had
aged beyond his years. He had only been on the throne for four years and it seemed as though he were going the same way as Le Hutin.
‘You are much thinner, Philip,’ she told him ‘Have you consulted your
doctors?’
Philip shrugged his shoulders. ‘They are determined I am to die shortly. The curse, sister.’
‘I should snap your fingers at them and tell them you refuse to die at the command of Jacques de Molai.’
‘Do not mention that name,’ said Philip quickly. ‘No one does. It is
unlucky.’
Isabella shook her head. If she had been in her brother’s place she would
have shouted that name from the turrets. She would have called defiance on the Grand Master. She would have let the people of France see that she could curse louder than the dead Templars.
But she was not subject to the curse.
‘Charles is waiting to step into my shoes,’ said Philip
‘That will be years hence and perhaps never.’
Philip shook his head. ‘I think not. And then― his turn will come. Tell me of England, sister.’
‘Need you ask? You know the kind of man I married.’
‘He still ignores you and prefers the couch of his chamberlain to yours?’
‘I would my father had married me to a man.’
‘He married you to England, sister. You are a Queen, remember.’
‘A Queen― who is of no importance! I hate these Despensers.’
‘The two of them?’
“Father and son. He dotes on them both but it is of course the pretty young man who is his pet.’
‘Well, sister, you have a fine boy.’
She nodded and whispered: ‘Yes, brother. I rejoice. Two boys and young
Edward growing more like his grandfather every day. People comment on this.’
‘What England needs now is another First Edward.’
‘What England does not need is the Second Edward.’
‘But that is what it has, Isabella.’
‘Perhaps not always. Perhaps not for much longer.’
He was startled. ‘What mean you?’
‘There is whispering against him. The barons hate the Despensers as much
as I do. If it should come to― conflict―’
She saw her brother’s face harden and she thought: How wrong I was to
expect help from him. All he is concerned with is his miserable curse.
‘It would be wise for you to continue to please him.’
‘Continue! I never began to.’
‘Oh come, sister, you have three children by him.’
‘Begotten in shame.’
‘You should not talk so. They are his and yours.’
‘They are indeed. But what I have to endure―’
‘Princes and princesses must always accept their fates, sister.’
What was the use of trying to get help from Philip?
But there was one other who was brought to her notice during that visit to France. This was Adam of Orlton, Bishop of Hereford, who conveyed to her that he had great admiration for her fortitude regarding her relationship with the King.
It was not long before they were finding opportunities of talking together.
He deplored the state of the country and the troubles between the barons. He hinted that he thought the Despensers were responsible for a great deal of the people’s growing dissatisfaction.
‘My lady,’ he said, ‘It is the affair of Piers Gaveston over again.’
How she agreed with him! How she longed to talk of her ambitions, but she
was too wily for that.
So she let him talk.
He told her that there were growing suspicions of Lancaster.
‘I have heard it whispered, my lady, that he has been in communication with Robert the Bruce who has paid him bribes to work with him against the King.’
‘I cannot believe it. Lancaster would never work against England, and
Robert the Bruce is hard put to it to pay his soldiers. How could he afford bribes?’
‘It is something which is being said,’ the Bishop replied. ‘It may be that Lancaster thinks he knows the way to bring about peace with Scotland better than the King. It is a fact that when the Scots make raids into England they never touch Lancaster’s land.’
‘I must look into this,’ said the Queen. ‘Have you told the King?’
‘My lady, I thought it wiser to tell you.’
She was exultant. What did that mean? Could it really be that men were
beginning to turn away from the King and look to her?
She felt the trip to Amiens had been successful even though she realized that she would get little help from the King of France.
The Despensers must have been aware of the resentment against them, but
so blind were they to anything but their personal gain and their certainty that they had the King in leading strings that they ignored the warnings.
It was the trouble over the Gloucester inheritance which brought matters to a head. The three brothers-in-law were still squabbling over their shares when young Hugh in a rage seized Newport which belonged to Hugh of Audley.