‘My dear Philippa, you may rest assured that I will do that.’
She seemed a little more satisfied; and the more Edward thought of the project the more he wanted to shelve the matter. If he decided to act against France he would have to be sure of his allies. He reckoned he could count on his father-in-law, William of Hainault, and Philippa’s uncle John had always been a good friend.
Young Joanna, though scarcely more than a baby, was promised to the son of the Duke of Austria. That might ensure Austria’s help.
Edward went on turning over these matters in his mind and nothing definite was arranged. Artois was becoming desperately impatient.
Am I going to stay here in exile all my life? Artois asked himself. Will Edward never make a move to gain the crown of France?
How he longed to see Philip brought low. He hated Philip as he had never hated anyone in his life and he was a man of violent passions. Philip of Valois to be King of France! The Foundling King who was on the throne because of a series of accidents! It was unfair. It should be stopped. And to think that Philip had upheld those who had robbed him of his estates and had made it clear that while he was on the throne they should never be restored to him.
Throughout Artois’ life he had always had some project which he pursued with passionate intensity. He would never allow himself calm reflection. He enjoyed working himself up into a passion of hatred or love. He had to indulge these violent emotions; he had to live adventurously.
Out of his hatred of Philip of France had grown the idea of toppling him from his throne; and here was a ready-made solution. Through his mother Edward might by some be said to have a claim to the French crown. Others might say it was a flimsy one since it came through his mother, and the Salic Law prevented women coming to the throne. Edward was her son, a man ... but still his inheritance came through a woman. The claim would not be regarded very seriously in France. But of course those who passionately wanted it to be so, could convince themselves that it was a good one.
Yet Edward would not move. Edward was cautious. Edward himself perhaps did not believe in his claim. It might be that he was considering what an undertaking it would be to go to France and fight the French, the object being to displace Philip from the throne.
Edward had had an uneasy beginning as a warrior in Scotland. He was not going to act rashly again. He could have been said to have set aside that first humiliation by later success but there was nothing spectacular in his military exploits so far.
Again and again Robert had pointed out the differences in France and Scotland. The Scots were a wild people; they had their mountains to help them. It was difficult to keep the Border fortified. How different it would be in France. He imagined the crown being set on his head, the French people acclaiming him.
Would they? wondered Edward. Why should they? Because they hated Philip, the oppressor, the usurper, the Foundling King.
But they had put him on the throne and by all accounts France had been more stable under his rule.
How exasperating Edward was! Artois was getting very impatient and when he was impatient he was reckless.
He rode out alone in a fever of impatience and as he came through the forest he saw a stream and wading in the water looking for food was a slate grey bird with a thin black crest which curled down the long neck. Its pointed yellow beak was like a dagger poised ready to spear some unsuspecting creature. A heron!
Robert watched it quietly for some time. He must be still he knew for it was one of the most timorous of birds. A coward bird he had heard it called. Then an idea came to him.
He freed his hawk and very soon he held the heron in his hands.
Laughing to himself he returned to the castle.
The King and Queen were in the dining-hall. Artois was late. The King was on the point of asking for him when Robert entered. Behind him walked two women carrying a dish and in this dish was the heron which he had ordered to be roasted.
‘What means this?’ asked Edward preparing to be amused for Artois was notorious for the tricks he liked to play.
Artois went up to the King and bowed low. ‘While hawking in your forest, my lord, I found this bird. I thought it would please you, my lord. It must be a favourite bird of yours.’
‘A heron. Why so?’ asked Edward.
‘My lord,’ said Artois speaking so loudly that everyone in the hall could hear and all were eagerly listening now to what the Count had to say. ‘My lord, the heron is the most timid of birds. Everyone knows this. And you are a King who is not ready to fight for what is his. A timid bird ... a timid King. There must be a certain partiality. So I have brought this bird to you for though he is but a bird and you a king you are alike in one respect.’
Edward rose, his face scarlet. Philippa trembled for the first signs of the Plantagenet temper were beginning to show themselves.
Artois folded his arms and studied the King mockingly, and to everyone’s surprise Edward burst into laughter.
‘You are a rogue, Artois,’ he said.
‘Yes, my lord,’ replied Artois meekly.
‘You have compared me with the heron. You call me a coward.’
Artois said nothing and all marvelled at his temerity. Whatever else he was he was a brave man.
Edward cried : ‘It is true that I have a claim to France and I swear on this heron that I will take an army there and I shall give battle with the King of France be his forces twice the number of mine. Come, my friends, we will all take a vow on this heron. We will all swear together. We shall go to France. We shall take the crown from the head of the imposter Philip and we shall not rest until it is placed where it belongs. Never shall the Count of Artois compare me with a heron again. Come, those who love me, those who would serve me, take the vow of the heron.’
And one by one all the great nobles present advanced to the table and they vowed themselves to the French adventure. Artois stood by smiling benignly. At last he had succeeded.
JOANNA’S BETROTHAL
NOW that he had decided on war with France, Edward knew that he was to make sure of his allies. The most important of these was Philippa’s father, William of Hainault, for Edward believed there was one on whom he could rely.
Philippa was worried about the health of her father for the letters which came regularly from her mother were disturbing. Count William was, she wrote, mightily sick of the gout and he could not leave his bed.
But his support for Edward’s claim was strong. This was a good sign for although some might say that naturally he would be on the side of his son-in-law, his wife, Philippa’s mother, was the sister of the King of France so his ties with both countries were very strong. However, he came down on the side of Edward and as, though only a small country, by reason of its hard-working people and their concentration on trading it was one of the most prosperous in Europe, it was therefore a very worthwhile ally.
Austria was important and for this reason young Joanna who had been promised to the son of the Duke of Austria could no longer delay leaving England for her new home.
When her governess, kind Lady Pembroke, had told her she was going to leave England with her parents, Joanna had been delighted for she had not then known the significance of this journey.
It was her sister Isabella who told her. Isabella was very pretty and had always been spoilt by her father. She could not understand why she should be left behind. She knew that her mother hated leaving any of them and would not do so unless it was for some special reason, but she and Edward were to stay in the palace of the Tower with Lady St Omer and Joanna was to go with her parents. What could it mean? Isabella was only six years old—just over a year older than Joanna but she was very much the big knowledgeable sister.