St. George for England: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers. Henty George Alfred
answer that they were always at his service under the leading of my Cousin James will suffice for him. Now, what am I to do in that matter? Who would have thought that he so coveted my lands that he would have slain me and Edith to possess himself of them? His own lands are thrice as broad as mine, though men say that he has dipped deeply into them and owes much money to the Jews. He is powerful and has many friends, and although Earl Talbot would stand by me, yet the unsupported word of an apprentice boy were but poor evidence on which to charge a powerful baron of such a crime as this. It were best, methinks, to say naught about it, but to bury the thought in my own heart. Nevertheless, I will not fail to take the precaution which the lad advised, and to let Sir James know that there are some who have knowledge of his handiwork. I hear he crosses the seas to-morrow to join the army, and it may be long ere he return. I shall have plenty of time to consider how I had best shape my conduct toward him on his return; but assuredly he shall never be friendly with me again or frighten Edith with his kisses."
"Well, Walter, has it been such a dreadful business as you expected?" the armorer asked the lad when he reëntered the shop. "The great folks have not eaten you, at any rate."
"It has not been dreadful," Walter replied with a smile, "though I own that it was not pleasant when I first arrived at the great mansion; but the lady put me quite at my ease, and she talked to me for some time, and finally she bestowed on me this chain, which our lady, the queen, had herself given her."
"It is a knight's chain and a heavy one," Geoffrey said, examining it, "of Genoese work, I reckon, and worth a large sum. It will buy you harness when you go to the wars."
"I would rather fight in the thickest mêlée in a cloth doublet," Walter said indignantly, "than part with a single link of it."
"I did but jest, Walter," Geoffrey said, laughing; "but as you will not sell it, and you cannot wear it, you had best give it me to put aside in my strong coffer until you get of knightly rank."
"Lady Vernon said," the lad replied, "that she hoped one day it might again belong to a knight; and if I live," he added firmly, "it shall."
"Oh! she has been putting these ideas into your head; nice notions truly for a London apprentice! I shall be laying a complaint before the lord mayor against Dame Vernon, for unsettling the mind of my apprentice and setting him above his work. And the little lady, what said she? Did she give you her colors and bid you wear them at a tourney?"
Walter colored hotly.
"Ah! I have touched you," laughed the armorer; "come now, out with the truth. My lad," he added more gravely, "there is no shame in it; you know that I have always encouraged your wishes to be a soldier, and have done my best to render you as good a one as any who draws sword 'neath the king's banner, and assuredly I would not have taken all these pains with you did I think that you were always to wear an iron cap and trail a pike. I too, lad, hope some day to see you a valiant knight, and have reasons that you wot not of for my belief that it will be so. No man rises to rank and fame any the less quickly because he thinks that bright eyes will grow brighter at his success."
"But, Geoffrey, you are talking surely at random. The Lady Edith Vernon is but a child; a very beautiful child," he added reverently, "and such that when she grows up the bravest knight in England might be proud to win. What folly for me, the son of a city bowyer, and as yet but an apprentice, to raise mine eyes so high!"
"The higher one looks the higher one goes," the armorer said sententiously. "You aspire some day to become a knight, you may well aspire also to win the hand of Mistress Edith Vernon. She is five years younger than yourself, and you will be twenty-two when she is seventeen. You have time to make your way yet, and I tell you, though why it matters not, that I would rather you set your heart on winning Mistress Edith Vernon than any other heiress of broad lands in merry England. You have saved her life, and so have made the first step and a long one. Be ever brave, gentle, and honorable, and, I tell you, you need not despair; and now, lad, we have already lost too much time in talking; let us to our work."
That evening Walter recalled to Geoffrey his promise to tell him the causes which had involved England in so long and bloody a war with France.
"It is a tangled skein," Geoffrey said, "and you must follow me carefully. First, with a piece of chalk I will draw upon the wall the pedigree of the royal line of France from Philip downward, and then you will see how it is that our King Edward and Philip of Valois came to be rival claimants to the throne of France.
"Now, you see that our King Edward is nephew of Charles le Bel, the last King of France, while Philip of Valois is only nephew of Philip le Bel, the father of Charles. Edward is consequently in the direct line, and had Isabella been a man instead of a woman his right to the throne would be unquestionable. In France, however, there is a law, called the Salic law, which excludes females from the throne; but it is maintained by many learned in the law, that although a female is held to be incompetent to reign because from her sex she cannot lead her armies to battle, yet she no way forfeits otherwise her rights, and that her son is therefore the heir to the throne. If this contention, which is held by all English jurists, and by many in France also, be well founded, Edward is the rightful King of France. Philip of Valois contends that the Salic law not only bars a female from ascending the throne, but also destroys all her rights, and that the succession goes not to her sons, but to the next heir male; in which case, of course, Philip is rightful king. It is not for me to say which view is the right one, but certainly the great majority of those who have been consulted have decided that, according to ancient law and usage, the right lies with Edward. But in these matters 'right is not always might.' Had Isabella married a French noble instead of an English king it is probable that her son's claims to the throne would have been allowed without dispute, but her son is King of England, and the French nobles prefer being ruled by one of themselves to becoming united with England under one king.
"At the time of the death of the last king, Edward was still but a boy under the tuition of his mother, Philip was a man, and upon the spot, therefore he was able to win support by his presence and promises, and so it came that the peers of France declared Philip of Valois to be their rightful monarch. Here in England, at a parliament held at Northampton, the rights of Edward were discussed and asserted, and the Bishops of Worcester and Coventry were dispatched to Paris to protest against the validity of Philip's nomination. As, however, the country was not in a position to enforce the claim of their young king by arms, Philip became firmly seated as King of France, and having shown great energy in at once marching against and repressing the people of Flanders, who were in a state of rebellion against their count, one of the feudatories of the French crown, the nobles were well satisfied with their choice, and no question as to his right was ever henceforth raised in France. As soon as the rebellion in Flanders was crushed, Philip summoned the King of England to do homage for Aquitaine, Ponthieu, and Montreuil, fiefs held absolutely from the crown of France. Such a proceeding placed Edward and his council in a great embarrassment. In case of a refusal the whole of the possessions of the crown in France might be declared forfeited and be seized, while England was in no condition to defend them; on the other hand, the fact of doing homage to Philip of Valois would be a sort of recognition of his right to the throne he had assumed. Had Edward then held the reins of power in his hands, there can be little doubt that he would at once have refused, and would have called out the whole strength of England to enforce his claim. The influence of Isabella and Mortimer was, however, all-powerful, and it was agreed that Edward should do homage as a public act, making a private reservation in secret to his own councilors, taking exception to the right of Philip.
"Edward crossed to France and journeyed to Amiens, where Philip with a brilliant court awaited him, and on the appointed day they appeared together in the cathedral. Here Edward, under certain protestations, did homage for his French estates, leaving certain terms and questions open for the consideration of his council. For some time the matter remained in this shape; but honest men cannot but admit that King Edward did, by his action at the time, acknowledge Philip to be King of France, and that he became his vassal for his estates there; but, as has happened scores of times before, and will no doubt happen scores of times again, vassals, when they become powerful enough, throw off their allegiance to their feudal superiors, and so the time came to King Edward.
"After the death of Mortimer and the imprisonment of Isabella, the king gave rein to his taste