Queen Isabella: Treachery, Adultery, and Murder in Medieval England

  But Despenser was by no means finished with her. She might be the mother of the heir to the throne, but around Michaelmas, her three youngest children were removed from her custody on the grounds that, as a Frenchwoman, she might encourage them to commit treason against their father. The children were initially given into the care of Eleanor de Clare and Despenser’s sister Isabella, Lady Monthermer, who was married to Ralph de Monthermer, the King’s brother-in-law.66 John of Eltham, now eight, seems to have remained with Eleanor de Clare, but the two Princesses, Eleanor, six, and Joan, three, were shortly afterward sent to live with the Monthermers at Pleshy and Marlborough.

  There is a consensus of opinion among historians that Isabella was not overly maternal and was even guilty of neglecting her children, but there is no evidence that she was less devoted than any other royal mother in an age in which it was customary for heirs to the throne to have their own households from infancy. Prince Edward had been given his at the age of five, but his three younger siblings had remained with their mother, which suggests that Isabella was actively involved in their upbringing. In fact, she seems to have been determined to play a controlling role in their lives, rather than a passive one, and to have been ambitious for her children, which argues that she cared very much about what happened to them. Her great joy at being reunited with her younger children in 1326 is surely evidence as to how devastated she must have been at being forcibly parted from them and how she must have suffered during the long separation. Any neglect seems to have been the fault of those who had had care of them in the interim period. Furthermore, all Isabella’s children, particularly the young Edward, remained devoted to her all their lives, which would surely not have been the case had she been a distant and uncaring mother and the “Jezebel” that later generations made her out to be.

  Isabella was now a virtual prisoner. She had lost her status, her husband, her children, her influence, her income, her friends, and her freedom and had suffered extreme anguish as a result.67 In a letter smuggled out to Charles IV, she protested bitterly about the sequestration of her lands and the loss of her French servants, accused Despenser of depriving her of her husband’s love, and complained that “she was held in no higher consideration than a maidservant in the palace of the King, her husband,” to whom she referred disparagingly as “a gripple miser,” or one who had been mean to her but lavish toward another.68 Eleanor de Clare was now in constant attendance on her as her “housekeeper” or “chaperone,” whether she wanted her there or not; Despenser and the King were using Eleanor as both jailer and spy and had given her instructions to carry the Queen’s seal with her at all times and to read all Isabella’s letters before they were sealed. Isabella, “greatly enraged,”69 managed to circumvent this supervision and smuggled out yet another letter to her brother, complaining about these new indignities. But when a shocked Charles IV reacted with angry demands for fairer treatment for Isabella,70 Edward chose to ignore him.

  Instead, on 18 November, he gave orders that only 2,920 marks per annum, or £1.00 per day, was to be allocated to the Queen for her food and drink. He was more generous when it came to the maintenance of her household, for which 1,000 marks per day were allocated,71 but he also ordered that any Frenchmen left in England were to be arrested and imprisoned and their property confiscated.72 By this time, a number of Isabella’s French servants had already fled to France, but some twenty-seven persons had stayed behind, including her clerks; her two chaplains, Thomas Burchard and Peter de Vernon; her physician, Theobald de Troyes; and the Launges. All were now apprehended and shut up in scattered religious houses.73 Nor was Isabella allowed to secure their freedom by giving sureties for their good behavior, a concession extended to other persons of rank.74 In France, Charles IV erupted in astonishment and fury at the arrest of his subjects, much to the embarrassment of the English envoys at his court.75

  Like Isabella herself, the Lanercost chronicler believed that it was Despenser who was chiefly responsible for the sequestration of the Queen’s lands and the arrest of her servants. Lanercost also states that, around this time, Despenser persuaded the King to petition the Pope for an annulment of his marriage to Isabella and himself sent Robert Baldock and an “irreligious” Dominican friar, Thomas Dunheved, to Avignon to present this petition. Lanercost’s statement is to some extent corroborated by the fact that Dunheved was sent to the papal Curia on secret business at this time, while the Annales Paulini refer to rumors of an annulment.

  What must have been so shocking to the Queen was not so much the vindictiveness of Despenser and his desire to humiliate her—she had learned to expect that—but the naked malice of her husband, which she had only ever experienced as an onlooker. Now, as a result of Edward’s anger with Charles IV, and Despenser’s whispering campaign, it was directed at her. She had done nothing to deserve such intolerable treatment. She had been a patient, loyal, and dutiful wife; a good mother; and a conscientious consort who had earned a widespread reputation as a peacemaker. Before 1325, there is no hint in any source of any infidelity on her part. But now her marriage had been destroyed, for “the King had driven out the Queen at [Despenser’s] incitement,”76 and she was being unjustly vilified and cruelly punished for crimes she had not committed. This was all because of her hatred of the corrupt favorite and her husband’s weakness in permitting that favorite to treat her so unjustly. Baker, who is hostile to Isabella, accuses her of denying her company (and no doubt her bed) to her lord, but if this is true, was it not understandable in the circumstances? All things considered, there can be no doubt that Edward II must bear the lion’s share of the blame for the breakdown of the marriage and that, by his own carelessness, he sowed the seeds of future tragedy.

  Despenser’s cruelty toward the Queen was apparently well known in diplomatic circles. Before long, Pope John heard of it in Avignon and himself wrote to Despenser, reprimanding him for his harsh treatment and his misgovernment and for causing bitterness between princes.77 When Despenser, deeply perturbed by an attempt to murder him and the King by using black magic on wax effigies,78 wrote craving the Pope’s special protection, John XXII tartly recommended him “to turn to God and make a good confession and such satisfaction as shall be enjoined. No other remedies are necessary.”79 Clearly, the Pope had got the measure of Despenser, and this may be one reason why nothing more is heard of the King’s petition for an annulment. Another reason may be that the marriage of Edward and Isabella had been contracted at the instigation of the Papacy in the interests of forging a lasting peace between England and France, and that it was now more than ever necessary to uphold that alliance as a cement in diplomatic relations. Furthermore, the only possible grounds for an annulment could have been consanguinity, and a dispensation had already been granted to allow for this; moreover, it would have been dynastically catastrophic for the legitimacy of the heirs of the marriage to be impugned.

  In the absence of any further information, we must conclude that, if Edward II had indeed asked the Pope to annul his marriage, he either met with a categorical—and confidential—refusal or withdrew his petition for reasons that will shortly become clear. This would explain why, when Stephen Dunheved reported to the King from Avignon on 7 October 1325, he made no reference to any matrimonial proceedings.80

  Edward now knew for certain that he faced not only the prospect of a war with France but also the threat of an invasion led by Mortimer; Despenser had learned in the autumn that Mortimer was in Hainault trying to raise troops, with the intention of sailing with an army from Holland or Zeeland for the East Anglian coast.81 Diplomatic relations between England and Hainault were already frosty on account of disputes over trade, and on 24 October, Edward wrote to Count William V of Hainault protesting about his harboring of English traitors.82 The Count, however, took no notice. Mortimer’s next move was to raise a force of German mercenaries, financed by his wife’s French relatives, the Joinvilles.83

  The situation was critical, but the Pope was convinced i
t was not irretrievable; around December, on his instructions, his two nuncios in Paris, the Archbishop of Vienne and the Bishop of Orange, suggested that Queen Isabella be sent to France to use her renowned powers of mediation in the interests of defusing the crisis and settling the dispute over Gascony. This may have been the Pope’s way of making it clear to Edward II that his marriage was a valuable diplomatic tool and that its dissolution would spell political disaster at this time, and it perhaps prompted Edward to withdraw his nullity suit.

  Baker claims that the suggestion that the Queen go to France originated with Isabella herself and that, after receiving her appeals for aid, Charles IV took steps to facilitate her escape from England. Froissart also states that Isabella “secretly did purvey to go into France.” There may be some truth in their statements, but Baker’s assertion that Charles enlisted Orleton and Burghersh to let the Queen go can hardly be correct, for the disgraced Orleton was in no position to plead for the Queen.

  It is certainly possible that, at Isabella’s prompting, or at the very least in response to her pleas for help, Charles IV had originally suggested to the Pope that she come on a peace mission to France.84 And once this escape route miraculously opened up before her, Isabella was undoubtedly more than eager to take it. By her own later admission, she was so desperate to get away that she made every effort to appear friendly toward Despenser so that he would not veto the idea.85 Going to France as England’s ambassador extraordinary would not only restore her status as Queen but would also afford her a respite from the miseries she had to endure at home and remove her from the orbit of the hated Despensers. There is no evidence, however, that the Pope, sympathetic though he undoubtedly was toward Isabella, ever intended her mission to have any purpose other than to negotiate a peace.86

  In January 1325, first the royal council, then Parliament debated the Pope’s suggestion. Despenser was against Isabella’s leaving England; although she was managing to dissemble her anger and loathing, and behaving toward him with studied courtesy, he knew he had made a bitter enemy of her and had every reason to fear that she might plot some mischief against him while she was in France. Yet Edward himself feared to go to France and leave his favorites unprotected, so sending Isabella seemed a sensible solution, and the King was tempted to consider it seriously.

  His envoys in Paris were ready to put pressure on him. On 13 January, John Salmon, Bishop of Norwich, intervened with Despenser on the Queen’s behalf. He was supported by his fellow envoys, the Earl of Richmond, who had recently been freed by the Scots, and Henry de Beaumont, who had apparently made a superficial peace with the King and regained a degree of favor. On 17 January, John Stratford, Bishop of Winchester, who had been on the same embassy and was newly returned from France, reiterated Salmon’s plea; he added that Charles IV had promised that, if Edward would create his son Duke of Aquitaine and send him to France with the Queen to pay homage, then Charles would restore all the lands he had taken, and that this offer had been approved by the French royal council.87

  In the end, the bishops’ intervention, backed by the persuasions of Charles IV and the Elder Despenser, proved decisive:88 Parliament decided that any expedient was preferable to pursuing the war,89 and by 7 February, the King had consented to Isabella’s going to France, with Prince Edward following as soon as a satisfactory settlement was reached. On that date, the English council sent Thomas de Astley to the envoys in France to inquire whether it would be acceptable to the French if the Queen came alone to negotiate peace terms. The answer was in the affirmative.90

  Edward’s decision to send Isabella to France turned out to be the most foolhardy and tragic mistake he made in his entire life. It was to have devastating consequences for him. Yet the fact that he gave his consent suggests that Isabella had dissembled so cunningly, hiding her rage and humiliation at the treatment meted out to her by himself and the Despensers, that he really believed that he had nothing to fear from her and that she would loyally uphold his interests, as in the past. His sanctioning of her mission also gives the lie to the assertions made the previous September, in justification of the sequestration of her estates, that she was a threat to the security of the realm, and corroborates Isabella’s own conviction that she had lost her lands chiefly as a result of Despenser’s malice.

  Some historians have expressed surprise at Despenser’s permitting Isabella to leave England, but he was in fact more fearful of the consequences of the King’s going to France and leaving him unprotected. Isabella’s own submissive and outwardly courteous conduct toward Despenser, and Edward’s evident belief in her faithfulness, could have persuaded Despenser that she was harmless. Moreover, he would assuredly have been glad to have her out of the way for a spell and unable to exert any influence on Edward. Almost certainly, he underestimated her in every way that counted.

  Edward, too, had been fatally mistaken in his assumptions about Isabella. Robert of Reading commented on “the insane stupidity of the King, who, condemned by God and man [for] his infamy and his illicit bed, should never have put aside his noble consort and her soft wifely embraces, [nor been] contemptuous of her noble birth.” Much had happened to turn Isabella against Edward in the weeks since September, and already, it seems, she had begun to conspire against him.

  More than two years of suffering Despenser’s cruelty and her husband’s callousness certainly changed Isabella; it hardened her and brought out in her latent strengths and faults that even she herself may not have suspected she possessed. More than ever now, she was her father’s daughter. The humiliations imposed upon her had not humbled her but had made her even more aware of her pride in her rank and her dynastic connections. The insults she had endured had awakened a desire for vengeance and a ruthless determination to recover all that had been so cruelly taken from her. Living in constant fear had taught her to be courageous, resourceful, and cunning. Her innate kindness and thoughtfulness had apparently been subsumed by the realization that she must act to end this intolerable situation. No longer was she prepared to accept a passive, compliant role. For seventeen years, she had striven to be a loyal and dutiful wife, and she now felt she had no choice other than to embark on a perilous course of defiance. To allow matters to continue as they were would have exposed her to further degradation and danger, her children to a motherless existence, and England to the unbridled tyranny of the Despensers.

  In light of later events and circumstantial evidence, it has been suggested that an embryonic opposition party was forming around the Queen before she left England. Some historians assert that it had been in existence as early as 1322, as a reaction to the Despenser ascendancy; although there is no evidence for this, many people certainly did resent the favorites and were ready to plot their downfall, but it is unlikely that anyone would have viewed the Queen as the focus of a cohesive opposition party until after the sequestration of her estates, when it became plain to everyone that she had good cause for grievance.

  Isolated and spied upon as she was, Isabella would have found it difficult to establish and maintain links with disaffected persons at court, but she apparently did find opportunities secretly to enlist the sympathy and support of others—we know she had managed to smuggle out letters to Charles IV, and in February, she had a private meeting with the Prior of Christ Church, Canterbury. Yet before her departure for France, there is no hard evidence that she was actively involved in forming an opposition party in England, nor that she had begun intriguing with the men who later became her allies. However, given the secret nature of underground political movements, one would not expect to find much in the way of evidence. Certainly, the enemies of the Despensers would have been more than willing to involve the Queen in their intrigues and to pass on messages or letters for her. Walsingham, writing much later, asserts that Edward had not considered it safe to allow Isabella’s dower to remain in her hands, “as she maintained a secret correspondence with the enemies of the state.” Had the King really suspected this, it is hardly likely that
he would have sanctioned her going to the Continent, where Mortimer, the deadliest enemy of all, still plotted against him.

  That is not to say, however, that Isabella was not already in league with the Despensers’ opponents. She must have been sympathetic toward those who, like herself, had suffered at the hands of the favorites, and they may now have been looking to her to deliver the realm from the Despensers. With her visit to France in view, the Queen had determined on “securing revenge and satisfaction,”91 but that would surely have depended on her counting on the support of others. At the very least, she was planning to reveal all to her brother, King Charles, in a bid to enlist his sympathy and his help in ridding England of the Despensers. Isabella may well have believed that, if, from the safety of France, she threatened to desert Edward, his desire to avert a worse public scandal might drive him to dismiss his favorites. This is corroborated by the author of the Vita Edwardi Secundi, who, soon after the Queen had left England, expressed this opinion: “Small wonder if she does not like Hugh, through whom her uncle [Lancaster] perished, and by whom she was deprived of her servants and all her rents; consequently, she will not (so many think) return until Hugh le Despenser is wholy removed from the King’s side.” This chronicler was almost certainly expressing contemporary opinion, for he apparently died soon afterward and so was not writing with the benefit of hindsight. Whatever the extent of Isabella’s schemes—and we do not know exactly what, at this stage, was in her mind—she was going to need substantiation of her suffering and support on both sides of the Channel.