Every man knew what they were working for. It was for the excursion into France. It was to set the crown of France on the head of Edward Plantagenet for, every Englishman believed, that was where it rightly belonged. Was not their King’s mother a daughter of a King of France and had not her brothers died ... every one of them? The French said that no woman could inherit the crown of France. That was their Salic law. Well why shouldn’t a woman’s son inherit? In any case this was what they wanted to believe and they were going to believe it.
Their Edward was the true King of France not Philip of Valois. And they were going to fight to give him what was his by right.
By the following summer there was an army of twenty thousand men ready to follow the King to France. And each day they practised with their bows. They were determined to be the finest archers England had ever known. Lance, sword and battle-axe. They would know how to use them against the French when the great day came.
Philippa hid her grief at parting. She was once more pregnant or she would have gone with the King to France.
She smiled tenderly on her husband who was now so eager to be gone. He was certain of victory; it was characteristic of him that he should be. Again it seemed to her that he had never really grown up, a trait which often served him well. His unfailing optimism had carried him through many a difficult situation. Edward always believed in victory and he had the gift of making others believe in it too; and when his dreams failed to come true he never brooded on their failure; he began the next campaign. Thus cheated of the dukedom of Flanders he turned his efforts to the crown of France.
Fondly he embraced Philippa. ‘I leave you, my love,’ he said, ‘regent of this realm. The Earl of Kent will stand beside you. And Lionel shall be Guardian of the Realm.’
Lionel who was summoned to the King’s presence listened gravely to his father’s injunctions. It sounded wonderful to be Guardian of the Realm. He did not quite understand what it meant but it was something to boast of to his brothers and sisters and it gave him a chance to score over Isabella who always thought she was the most important person in the family because she was their father’s favourite.
When he asked his mother what he would have to do she reassured him by telling him only what she told him to. He might have to sit at meetings and when he did so remember that he must keep quiet and try to listen, or seem as if he were listening.
That did not seem insuperable and was a great comfort to the eight-year-old boy.
So they said good-bye to the King and Prince Edward, and the Regency had begun.
Shortly afterwards the Queen went to Windsor for her lying in and very soon gave birth to her daughter Margaret.
Prince Edward stood on deck with his friends William de Montacute, who had become the Earl of Salisbury on the death of his father, and Sir John Chandos. He admired John Chandos more than anyone he knew and he was proud of his friendship with him. John being older than he was had taught him a great deal and he seemed to the Prince the perfect knight. He was brave yet gentle; he hated oppressing the weak and showed no fear of the strong. Edward delighted in his company. He felt differently towards William de Montacute who was two years older than he was and inclined to stress the superior wisdom of seniority. Moreover there had been a certain rivalry between them over the fascinating Joan of Kent who, at the joust of the Round Table, had played one against the others, with Thomas Holland in spite of his being of lesser rank seeming to be the favoured one. But perhaps that was just Joan’s perversity.
Both William de Montacute and Edward had yet to attain knighthood and this was their immediate ambition. The Prince was envious of William for he was to command the landing of the first batch of the invaders—a task which Edward had thought his father might have given to him.
William was preening himself, determined to make a success of it and listening to the advice given by John Chandos.
Edward shrugged his shoulders. Well, if he were going to be the perfect knight like John, he must not show envy but wish all success to William which, somewhat grudgingly under the eye of John, he did.
And then to land and the beginning of operations.
There was some opposition by the natives but they were unarmed and William, a noble sight charging among them brandishing his sword, had little difficulty in putting them to flight and the operation assigned to him was carried through smoothly.
Edward was to land with his father and stood beside him awaiting the moment.
The King was carried shoulder high to the shore and as he sprang to his feet he miscalculated in some way and fell sprawling.
There was a shocked silence. Men about to go into battle were always looking for omens and for the King to fall as he set foot on land seemed like a deadly one.
Edward burst into loud laughter.
He stood up and held out his earth-stained hands.
‘Behold, my friends,’ he cried. ‘The very land of France cannot wait to embrace me as its rightful master.’ He looked at those solemn faces and he went on: ‘When my great ancestor came from Normandy to England, he fell on landing just as I have done. He told his men what I have just told your and lo and behold did it not come to pass that he conquered that land? Now it is changed. I come to conquer France as he once came to conquer England.’
Yes, they remembered the story of the Conqueror. It had been passed down through the ages.
It was a sign from Heaven. Edward was going to conquer France.
It was important, Edward believed, to imbue his son with that aura which men such as himself and his grandfather possessed. It was a pity Edward was not a few years older. Sixteen was so young. He was not even a knight yet. That could be remedied and it would be a good dramatic gesture to knight him here and now in the first hour on French soil. Then these men would know that if their King fell in battle there was another whom they could follow, ready to step into his shoes.
He summoned the Prince to him and there on a knoll made him bend his knee. He touched his shoulder with his unsheathed sword, fastened the belt about his hips and the golden spurs at his heels. Your Prince, he was telling the watchers, is no longer a boy.
He knighted one or two others on that spot and among them was William de Montacute, the young Earl of Salisbury. Edward felt a rush of emotion as he applied the naked sword to the shoulder.
He wished that the boy’s mother could see this ceremony. She would know then that he thought of her often and that he was determined to honour and do all he could to advance her family.
The march across the north of France had begun and there was little opposition in the first weeks. Barfleur, Valonges. Carentan and St Lo quickly fell to Edward. At the last place a thousand tuns of wine were discovered and these so refreshed the English army that they were unable to move for some time.
‘But,’ Edward explained to his son, ‘one must consider the needs of the men. This night they will be thanking God that they came to France and pitying those who stayed behind. Let it be so, they will not always harbour such sentiments, for war, my son, is not all seeking a woman in the village and getting tipsy on discovered wine.’
After St Lo they came to Caen which he took with ease and from Caen he marched to Lisieux.
By this time Philip, realizing what had happened, was gathering together a large force; he intended to put one double that of the English into the field if he could and in one mighty battle smash the fighting power of England. He would show Edward that it was one matter to take a defenceless town and another to score a victory over a well trained army.