January 4th – North of Northampton
Ludwig, King of the Germans & Edward's potential ally.
John de Ufford rode ahead of the entourage that surrounded Edward on his journey back to London. He enjoyed these moments that he had to himself, so that he could engage his brain, and mull things over. It had been painfully slow progress from York, and John had received plenty of time to consider the current situation. And the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t like it. The offer that Edward had made Ludwig, and the Imperial Princes was simply too much. Edward was a far better negotiator than that, and could easily gain their support for far less. What was his King up to? John wondered.
He paused on the crest of the hill that overlooked the town of Northampton. The town looked picturesque in the pale winter sun, with snow reflecting the light off the rooftops of the houses and churches in the town. The tranquillity of this picture was shattered by the emergence of a small group of horseman from the north gate of the town, and their hasty movement towards John’s position. John strained his eyes to try and make out detail on the onrushing horseman. He momentarily wondered weather he should call for the household knights that accompanied Edward led by John Darcy. His shout died in his throat as he recognised the lead horseman. It was Henry Burghersh, the Bishop of Lincoln, and the man charged with negotiating with Ludwig, the Holy Roman Empire.
John urged his grey mare forward, the compacted snow and ice crunching underfoot as she flew into a fast gallop. Her heavy breathing caused gusts of steam to rise and then vanish into the chilly afternoon air as John reigned her in besides the new arrivals.
‘Henry?’ John waited ‘Henry?’ he repeated.
The Bishop of Lincoln slowly looked at him, his face was dirty and grimy, and betrayed several days’ lack of sleep.
‘I have a reply for the Kings’ he finally said.
‘I’ll take it to him Henry. You go back to Northampton, and get some rest. You looked shattered’
‘Thank you, John. We arrived back in Dover late last night. I thought it important that the King receive the reply as soon as possible’
He passed over a letter to John, baring the great seal of the Holy Roman Emperor, before turning with his escort and heading back to Northampton.
John turned his mare round, and urged her back up the hill. He made his way back along the column of retainers, courtiers and nobles, some had accompanied Edward on his journey north, others as he travelled south, all seeking the King’s favour. John caught sight of the King, resplendent on his fine brown stallion, the King was busy talking to Robert d’Artois.
‘Your highness!’ John called out to Edward, who looked up inquisitively at him. ‘I have just met with the Bishop of Lincoln, and he has a reply from the Holy Roman Emperor for you, your highness’
Edward stopped immediately. John moved forward, and handed over the heavyset letter. Edward tore away the waxy seal, and his eyes scanned the contents of the page. A slight frown appeared on his face, and a knot of wrinkles creased his forehead.
‘Your highness?’ John patently asked.
‘It would seem that the Holy Roman Emperor has declined our request, Chancellor. He has no wish to form alliance, nor to let me become a vicar of the Empire. We shall have to send ambassadors to my father-in-law, and my brothers-in-law letting them know of this delay to our plans. See to it, John.’ Edward’s voice betrayed no emotion. Already his mind was calculating a new offer to send to Ludwig, one that he could not possibly refuse. He said no more, and spurred his horse on towards Northampton, suddenly eager for the comforts of warmth, and food.
Ludwig's reply.
January 5th – South of Northampton
They were a mile outside Northampton, heading back towards London once more. John de Ufford was now riding besides Edward, for there was no time for him to have his own thoughts, he was required for the execution of government. And nor was there was any place for Robert d’Artois at the King’s side, and he now rode sullenly behind Edward.
Edward rode silently for a time, lost in his own thoughts. He needed Ludwig’s agreement to an alliance; else all the support that he had in the Low Countries was useless. And it was some considerable support that he had. There was the somewhat dubious support that Robert offered from his confiscated county of Artois and the connections that he still in the region. More importantly, there were Edward’s family connections. His father-in-law, Guilliame of Hainault was count of Hainault, Holland, Zeeland and Westfrisaland. His sister Eleanor was married to Richard of Gelre, the count of Gelre.
Indeed, the Holy Roman Emperor himself was Edward’s kin, for Ludwig was married to one of Phillipa’s sisters. So how could he refuse Edward’s offer of alliance? The Low Countries depended on English wool for their great cloth industries, and the wool subsidies that Edward was offering the Princes of the Low Countries and the Emperor would surely be enough to curry their favour and agreement? An even without the subsidies, it was unquestionably within Ludwig’s interest to bring conflict to Philippe, for he had been long extending his influence in the region at Ludwig’s expense.
Ludwig’s refusal of the alliance terms infuriated Edward. Could he not see the benefits of them working together? The threat they would both pose to Philippe, and how much they could both gain? An attack on Northern France threatened Philippe’s capital, and would force him to respond. If Edward could not secure support, he would be forced to goto Aquitaine with his army, and defend his vassals there. For Philippe would no take seek to the Duchy straight away, and Edward would be failing as a liege lord, unless Philippe could be threatened elsewhere, forcing him to withdraw men from the invasion of his Duchy.
Edward was so lost in his thoughts, that he did not notice the arrival of a small group of horseman, escorting an elegant carriage on the road ahead. Nor did he notice that his column of men had stopped, causing Edward to plough into the back of a poor, unfortunate member of his household guard standing in front of him. Despite being half crushed, the men immediately offered an apology
‘I’m sorry sire, I should have been more watchful!’ the poor man winced.
‘Good God, no, It is I who should apologise. Most careless of me!’ Edward backed his horse away, and noticed the carriage and new arrivals for the first time. He looked at his Chancellor, who was now coming back from the carriage, with a young woman in tow.
Edward raised his eyebrows. This was most perplexing, he decided. He waited for John to return, and looked at him expectantly.
‘Your highness, may I present to you the Lady Violante Pacheco, Chancellor of the Kingdom of Portugal’ John formally introduced the newcomer. The lady curtsied, and Edward half bowed in his saddle in response.
‘Your Royal Highness’ the lady began in her accented French ‘I am here to represent my lord, Alfonso de Coimbra, by the Grace of God, King of Portugal and Count of Porto, Coimbra and Lisboa. And I bring with me an offer of alliance between our two kingdoms, so that we may work together in harmony, and the glory of God’
The offer from Portugal
Edward studied the woman for a moment, his mind taking in the proposal, an alliance with Portugal? He toyed with the idea for a moment. It certainly had advantages over his planned alliance with the Holy Roman Emperor. Edward would not have to give up extortionate wool subsidies, and there was a different strategic plan he could now play. Rather than threaten Philippe with a massive Anglo-German force in Northern France, Edward could now threaten northern France with his English army, whilst a combined Portuguese-Gascon army could defend, and attack from Aquitaine. Yes, he decided, alliance with Portugal may well be for the best.
Edward flashed the Lady Violante a charming smile as he took the letter with the formal offer.
‘You must accompany us to London, my Lady, where we can discuss this proposal in much more detail, and’ Edward waved his hand round the chilly countryside ‘in much greater comfort!’
John de Ufford sat impassively to the side of his King. He did not know what Edward had planned, but knew that it did not now involve alliance with Germany. For Edward was doing what he truly did best, playing the diplomatic game to perfection.
January 8th – London
Edward scratched his name onto the parchment that held the conditions of alliance between England and Portugal. He waited for a few seconds, to let the ink day, and then poured a small blob of wax onto the space underneath his name. He blew on the wax, to cool it slightly, then picked up his seal, and pressed hard on to the wax, indenting the symbol of the King of England. It was done, the alliance between Portugal and England was signed and sealed.
Edward smiled sweetly as he turned and handed the parchment to Lady Violante
‘There you go my lady, everything is written there as we agreed it. I look forward to a long and prosperous alliance between our peoples.’
‘Thank you, your Royal Highness’ Lady Violante curtsied as she took the parchment ‘King Alfonso will be most pleased with what we have agreed here.’ She said, with forced bravado. For she was not entirely sure it was what Alfonso had requested of her to extract from the English King. But Edward had been so charming, and so reasoned, that everything did make sense, at the time. She curtsied one final time, and left to take the terms of her alliance back to Portugal.
King Alfonso, Edward's new ally.
Edward leaned back in his chair contentedly. From the dismay of the rejection from Ludwig, to the euphoria of negotiating a favourable deal with Portugal, it had all happened in the space of 24 hours. He was now sure that when war came with Philippe, his Gascon subjects would not be left to the mercy of an invading French Army, but could expect help, from the Portuguese. Things were looking very good. Now, all he needed to do was convince the magnates and parliament of the worthiness of war with France. Edward chuckled at himself, only that?
‘Sire?’ Edward’s chamberlain broke his thoughts
‘Yes?’
‘The Marshal would like to talk to you, sire’
‘Very well, show him in, William’
Edward brightened at the prospect of talking to John Darcy. He enjoyed his conversations with his Marshal, and could now divulge his new plan for dealing with France. He would surely approve of the new plan, Edward decided.
The Marshal entered the room, with a slightly apprehensive look on his face. Edward picked up on straight away.
‘What’s the matter John?’
‘Sire, I’ve received a letter from my son, John’ he paused
‘Yes?’ Edward urged
‘He has taken to calling himself the Duke of Meath.’ John looked anxiously at Edward. For John Darcy was John’s second son, and as a reward for his loyal service as Marshal, as well as his son’s own talents, Edward had named him Lord of Ireland.
Edward briefly considered the news, there was precedent for the younger John to call himself Duke of Meath, as he was Earl of Mide and Dublin, and was steadfastly loyal to Edward. He looked up at the face of his Marshal
‘We’ll put it down to youthful exuberance, John’ and then Edward smiled ‘Does he have any other news?’
The Marshal tried to fight off the grateful smile spreading across his face.
‘Yes, sire. He believes he is close to getting Donal MacMurchada, Duke of Leinster and Muirdertach O’Brien, Earl of Tuadmumu, to pledge their allegiance to you, sire’
Edward’s eyebrows shot up.
‘If he can do that, John, then I would have had to grant him the title Duke of Meath, anyway!’ he laughed ‘Now John, I would like to hear your thoughts on our new strategy for the Valois’
January 12th – London
Court Life had slowly returned to normal following Edward’s mad dash up and down the country at the turn of the New Year, and it was one such facet of court life that Edward had to deal with, now. Before him, stood Robert de Ufford, elder brother of his chancellor, and a fine knight who had served with Edward in Scotland. His eldest son also named Robert, a fine young man of 22 years, who shared many of the qualities of his father, accompanied him.
Edward was also joined once more by his Marshal, and with him, was his only daughter, Elizabeth. Edward looked on in faint amusement as the younger de Ufford finished address him.
‘And with your permission, highness, I would like to take Elizabeth as my wife’ the proud young man stammered to a finish. Edward looked from him, to his intended betrothed, Elizabeth. It was a good match, and it would make sure any possible tension between the de Ufford’s and the Darcy’s was dissipated.
Edward stood up and gave them both a broad smile.
‘Of course you have my permission! And I expect a good seat for myself and the Queen at the weeding, obviously!’
Robert bowed, and gave his thanks. Edward sat down, content. A nice wedding was exactly what was needed to cheer up his court in this bitterly cold winter, he thought to himself.
January 18th – London
‘Philippe has spent some his cash reserves on the construction of royal posts within his domains, and has called for the Master of Crossbowman to be ready by February, in what we assume will be an attempt to start the confiscation of your Duchy, sire.’ Alan Mortimer finished his latest report to Edward with a self-satisfied smile.
‘Thank you, Alan, your intelligence gathering is excellent, as always’ Edward stated politely.
‘Thank you, sire, but my agents do me a great credit, it is they who deserve the praise’
‘Of course. Thank you Alan, you may go now’
Mortimer lingered in front of Edward for a moment, clearly wanting to impart some other information.
‘Yes, Alan?’ Edward asked irritably.
‘It is about my half-brother, Robert. You have named him to be heir to Alice de Lacy’s lands in Lincoln’ Alan licked his lips. Edward looked at Alan intently, what was his spymaster after, he wondered?
‘I just thought it prudent to let you know that by all accounts, the boy has become something of a fanatic, throwing himself behind whatever cause takes his fancy’
‘Thank you Alan, I’ll remember that’ Edward curtly said, dismissing his spymaster.
January 28th – Tower of London
The assembly of the magnates and prelates sat in the great chamber of the Tower of London, waiting to hear why Edward had summoned them. The was quite a cauldron of noise in the room, for each of the men realised to varying degrees that the country seemed to drawing ever close to war with France. A quiet hush fell across them as the blast of fanfare heralded the arrival of Edward.
Edward strode into the chamber, looking every inch a great regal figure. Dressed in the finest robes, he made purposefully for his seat at the far end of the chamber. There was a poised, determined look about him, several of the magnates noticed. Edward took his seat, and swept his steely blue eyes round the room, taking in the scene. Then, seemingly content, he nodded at the royal prolocutor, William de Fauconberg. William walked forward until he was in the centre of the chamber. He gazed round, before his eyes rested upon Edward, who gave a half-nod, and put his right hand forward, his palm upturned the signal for William to begin.
‘My lords!’ William’s fine, booming voice reverberated round the chamber ‘On behalf of his royal highness, Edward, by the Grace of God, King of England, Lord of Ireland and Duke of Aquitaine, I welcome you all. There are several matters, which are to be put before you, this council, today.
Firstly, you are no doubt aware of the continued efforts of his Royal Highness to find a lasting peace with his cousin, Philippe of Valois, King of France. We have made every effort to reach amicable agreement over a number of issues, yet we have met with no success. And the fault is not ours!’
There was a general murmur of assent from the crowd. William waited until it died down.
‘I say again, the fault is not ours. For Philippe of Valois continues to refuse to return lands that rightly belong to his Royal Highness in our Duchy of Aquitaine! Until Philippe returns the land stolen by his most treacherous father, Charles of Valois, we shall not have peace with France.
The second issue before you, is that of his Royal Highness’ right to the throne of France!’
All at once, the chamber was thrown into turmoil, with shouts of astonishment and wonder filling the air. Edward’s claim to the throne had not been raised for nearly 10 years, and everyone had thought it dead. At the back of the chamber, however, Robert d’Artois’ heart skipped a beat.
‘I beg silence, my lords, silence!’ William roared, trying to regain order. He got it. ‘As I am sure I have no need to remind you all, my lords, his Royal Highness is now in his twenty-fifth year, and civil law, he must make good his claim to inheritance, or have it lost to him. And I’m sure I have no need to remind you of the strength of our right to the crown of France. For is not the son of a sister a nearer heir than the son of an uncle? And should not the inheritance descend rather than ascend?’
There were nervous looks being exchanged around the chamber. The stakes for war were becoming higher than anyone had realised.
‘Finally’ William continued unabated ‘we ask the council to consider if the King should take the alliance with Portugal, and the formation of a continental confederation to resist Philippe of Valois, and his efforts to take the Duchy of Aquitaine from it’s rightful rule. We request the you give the King your counsel, on all the issues we have mentioned.’
There was a moment of stunned silence. Most of the lords in the chamber were still trying to grasp the fact that Edward was going re-establish his claim to the crown of France. Suddenly, Henry Plantagenet, Earl of Lancaster and Leicester rose unsteadily to his feet.
‘These are important issues, prolocutor. I request that the council be given time to consider them, and form its response, as to give the King the best possible advice’
William nodded his agreement, before remembering that old Lancaster was blind. ‘Certainly, Earl Henry, the King will be grateful of your advice once more, I have no doubt.’
The council filed out of the great chamber to discuss the matter at hand. Edward shifted in his seat. He knew it would be several hours before they reached a decision. He passed word for his steward to come and see him in the meantime. Eventually, Anselm entered the chamber, dragging his clubfoot behind him.
‘Highness?’ he looked balefully at Edward.
‘Anselm, I would be grateful if you could arrange for a tile-factory to be constructed in Gwent. We really must do something to improve the Welsh lands, they’re still quite antiquated!’ he grinned.
‘Of course, highness. Anything else, highness?’ Anselm asked tonelessly. Edward felt a stab of rage towards the steward, and his face contorted into a grimace.
‘No, you may leave’
‘Thank you, highness’ Anselm said, already shuffling away to do the King’s bidding.
When he was gone, Edward let out a deep sigh. He did not like the way Anselm conducted himself, as it was most unbecoming. But there was no one better in his court to act as steward, he reflected. Anselm was so keen to use what he considered to be his superb military talent. Well, Edward thought to himself, providing the council agrees with me, I suspect he shall have ample chance, soon enough.
* * *
The council was out for 6 hours, before they came back to the King with their counsel. This time, it was Edward’s uncle, Thomas of Norfolk who spoke.
‘Sire, it is the recommendation of this council that another solemn embassy be sent to Philippe, to once more try and arrange lasting peace between our realms. For no man wishes to shed blood of other Christian men, and it our duty to try and preserve the peace of our Kingdom.’ Thomas licked his lips ’But, should Philippe refuse our kind offer of peace, it is this council recommendation that we strengthen our naval forces, and look to the continent to secure allies to help against the King of France, who has unjustly occupied the realm of France.’
Edward sat solemnly in his seat whilst the prolocutor thanked the council for its service and recommendations, but inside, his mind was racing. The council had given its blessing for Edward to pursue his right to the throne of France. When war did come with Philippe, it would now no longer just be about the rights to the Aquitaine, but the rights to France.
Historical/Game Notes
Edward’s negotiations with the Ludwig, and the Imperial Princes, were quite complex, and lengthy. Most of it was done with individual princes in the Low Countries, as Edward sought to get their support, rather than Ludwig’s. This was made easier for him by the extensive connection of family that he had thanks to his marriage to Phillipa of Hainault.
Edward’s chief negotiating weapon was wool subsidies, that he used to more or less bribe certain reluctant allies, like the Duke of Brabant, and Ludwig to give him their support.
In terms of the game, since I can’t offer more, and Ludwig said no, I decided not to pursue it, since Edward’s alliance with Germany was on the whole, pretty useless, and nearly bankrupt him. The fact I received an offer from Portugal the day after Germany turned me down was a happy coincidence.
I’ll still concentrate on the region that Edward campaigned in from 1337 – 1340ish, I’ll just have to do it without German support
The council of the magnates and prelates actually happened on January 20 – 24th, rather than 28th. I changed the date to fit in the fact that it was January 28th in the game when I decided to make myself King of Wales, which I left out of the text, since it’s not particularly historically accurate. I could just use the prestige boost to give me enough to claim certain titles that Edward doesn’t start with claims too, yet were taken by him in later campaigns.