Part 20 (1/2)

In the meantime David's gentle English queen had died. He married a second time rather promptly, choosing the fascinating widow of a knight of comparatively low degree. Her name was Margaret Logie, and the estates were as little pleased with this choice as they would have been about the secret pact between the two kings. The new queen caused considerable trouble by persuading the king to put her relatives in important posts, and it did not take long for the coterie about the king to get rid of her. They found some basis for a divorce and snipped the marriage bond with legal scissors.

David died in Edinburgh Castle on February 22, 1370, leaving no children.

The secret transaction between the two kings did not play any part in the succession. The Scottish estates promptly chose Robert the Steward, a man of mature years, who was the son of David's sister, Marjorie. The new king had shown rare promise as a youth and had been widely popular. He was described as ”beautiful beyond the sons of men,” in spite of having red eyes (the color of sandalwood, according to Froissart) owing to a caesarian birth after his mother's death from the fall of a horse; or such was the accepted explanation.

Robert II did not have much chance to display great powers during the nineteen years of his reign. He is chiefly remembered as the founder of the Stuart dynasty which reigned in Scotland for centuries.

David II was forty-seven years old when he died and had been king for forty-one of them; in name, at least.

3.

Edward came back to England after his triumphs at Crecy and Calais in a jubilant mood and was welcomed enthusiastically by the people. Thinking himself ent.i.tled, perhaps, to some recreation after the years of strain and struggle, and convinced no doubt that in no other way could his reputation be more widely and permanently enhanced, he proceeded to turn a pet dream into an actuality. He established the Order of the Garter.

On the first day of January in 1344, and in advance of the great venture of the landing in France, Edward had announced a series of tournaments at Windsor Castle to which knights from all parts of Europe were to be invited. In order to provide proper facilities for these spectacular events, he planned some building developments at Windsor, a meeting place to be called the Round Table. As early as February of that year carpenters and masons were at work at Windsor and vehicles were bringing in loads of stone and timber from adjoining points. When the international pot began to boil and Edward found it necessary at last to take decisive steps in France, the work at the royal castle had to be suspended.

Then the king and the Black Prince returned to England to the thunderous applause of the whole populace. Their heads were now filled with plans for this great and somewhat mysterious order which was to be a successor to Arthur's Round Table. The exact date when the first steps were taken cannot be established. The official register of the Order of the Garter, which is called the Black Book because it is bound in black velvet, was not compiled until the latter part of the reign of Henry VIII. It is vague as to the facts and clearly has drawn on hearsay.

This much is now accepted as more nearly correct than any other theory: that Edward on returning announced his intention of establis.h.i.+ng the order, which was to be called the Knights of the Blue Garter, a t.i.tle once used by Richard Coeur-de-Lion. Froissart says that all the original members were at the feast where this statement was made, forty in number, and that all of the king's sons were included. It is now accepted that the original enrollment was twenty-five and that of the king's sons only the Black Prince was there.

A wider vision began to occupy the royal mind. Windsor consisted of the Round Tower and some small and not too substantial dwellings which Henry I and Henry III had erected. This far from imposing residence must now be converted into one worthy of a great king and suitable for this universal order.

This brings to the fore a man known as William of Wykeham, who was later to play a quite remarkable part in the history of the day, chiefly as a builder of castles and the founder of Winchester College. He was a clerk on the staff of Nicholas Uvedale, governor of Winchester. There was a rumor current at the time that this promising young man was in reality a son of Queen Isabella and her paramour Mortimer. Ever since the execution of Mortimer and the placing of the queen in seclusion, the rumor had persisted that a son had been born as a result of their illicit relations.h.i.+p; but why Master Wykeham should have been selected for this doubtful honor has never been traced.

He was, in plain fact, of very plain parentage, born in 1323 in the village of Wickham in Hamps.h.i.+re. His father was John Long (or perhaps Long John), a carpenter and a freeman, and his mother was Sybil Bowate, of gentle birth. There is no hint of mystery about his birth and there was nothing in his personality to suggest a parental link with the two princ.i.p.als in that great scandal.

While still quite young he became private secretary to his patron, and it is said he occupied a room in one of the high turrets of Winchester Castle, from which he could look down at all the magnificent buildings about and so acquired a burning admiration for Gothic architecture. He studied the structure of cathedrals and castles in all parts of the country. This hobby, for it could have been nothing else at this stage of his career, was noticed by Uvedale, who mentioned it to King Edward. The king sent for the young clerk and was much impressed with his manners and his well-expressed enthusiasm for fine buildings. The result was Wykeham's early appointment as clerk of the royal manors of Henle and Yelhampstead and later as surveyor of the king's works in the castle and park of Windsor. The king's readiness to employ him in such a post, when he had no education and no actual knowledge of building, may have roused suspicions which in turn led to the rumors about the young clerk's parentage.

William of Wykeham was in the royal service for many years, during which time the bald and forbidding walls of Windsor were converted into a place of graciousness as well as strength. It was a.s.sumed at the time that he had designed the plans and was ent.i.tled to the credit for the splendid changes which were wrought. Later and more careful consideration of the available facts has resulted in limiting his part to the administrative control. The architectural inspiration at Windsor was supplied by a highly skilled worker named William of Wynford. It is certain, at any rate, that Wynford was always with him as the ”appareller,” which meant the master mason, among other things. He was with Wykeham at Wells, at Abingdon Abbey, at Winchester Cathedral, and Winchester College. The royal accounts do not indicate, however, that this man of genius was well paid for his labors. At Wells he received forty s.h.i.+llings a year and sixpence a day. For the work he did at Abingdon he received a yearly wage of three pounds six s.h.i.+llings and threepence and a fur robe. Wykeham received a s.h.i.+lling a day in addition to the yearly salary which went with the post.

The once humble clerk did not underestimate his own part in these quite monumental efforts. He wanted to be remembered and so had the words This Made Wicham carved over a small tower in the middle bailey. He was discreet enough to want this piece of self-glorification to go unnoticed at the time, for the words were inscribed in small letters. Not small enough, however; immediately jealous sharp eyes detected what he had done and the story was carried to the king. Edward visited the tower in a fine rage and would have dealt summarily with Master Wykeham if the latter had not been quick to explain that the words were meant to convey a quite different meaning. It did not mean, explained Wykeham, that he had made the building but that the building had made him. The king accepted this somewhat flimsy excuse, but the slab seems to have disappeared at once. It was copied later when the first tower was remodeled and named Winchester Tower.

Wykeham became later one of the greatest ”pluraliste” of English history. That term was applied to anyone in any stage of holy orders who managed, through favor in high places, to have various benefices conferred on him, canonries here, prebendaries there, livings everywhere. Such benefices did not entail any work or responsibilities on the holder. A grubby curate or a half-starved clerk could always be found to do the work and to accept a small, an exceedingly small, part of the stipend. The greatest pluralist of all time, perhaps, was John Mansel, jack-of-all-trades and Man Friday to Henry III. He fell into the habit of putting his own name on most of the appointment papers which pa.s.sed across the long marble table at the upper end of the Cage Chamber in the palace at Westminster, where all official doc.u.ments were signed and sealed. The offices he held were variously estimated at between three hundred and seven hundred and he was called ”the richest clerk in the world.” The famous Cardinal Wolsey was ranked second in this compet.i.tion in simony and Wykeham third.

The latter moved up rapidly in the royal service and finally became chancellor. After taking holy orders in 1366 he was appointed Bishop of Winchester. This was one of the richest plums in the kingdom. Refusing to become Archbishop of Canterbury, he was said to have remarked that the rack of Canterbury was higher but the manger of Winchester was larger. William of Wykeham did very well indeed there. In addition to the many profitable appointments made for him by the king, he found the Black Death a great aid in his march to preferment and wealth. The plague was no respecter of persons, and fat-waisted churchmen seemed particularly vulnerable. Wykeham was an a.s.siduous gleaner on the very heels of the Grim Reaper, making himself the successor to all the ecclesiastical victims.

He was different from the other great simonical beneficiaries, however, in that he did not keep the benefits to himself. He was one of the most charitable of men, which may have been one of the reasons for the wide popularity he enjoyed.

There are many explanations given for the selection of the name of the new order, the most favored being the story of the Countess of Salisbury and the king. She was the wife of his great friend and early companion, Montacute, whose part in the capture of Mortimer will be remembered. The daughter of a handsome Burgundian knight and Sibyl, the heiress of Tregose, Katherine de Grandison had inherited wealth from her mother and beauty from her father. When David of Scotland laid siege to Wark Castle, the seat of the family, it happened that her husband was a prisoner in France and so the conduct of the defense had fallen on her slender shoulders. The fair Katherine showed a rare fighting spirit and held the invaders at bay with a small garrison consisting of the constable, a few knights, and not more than twoscore archers and servants.

However, the wail of the pipes around the walls day and night had begun to weigh on her, together with the frequent sound in the distance of Hey, Tuttie Tatie which meant that more of the wild Scots were arriving. When she saw an English army approaching with the royal standard carried in the lead, she was delighted beyond measure. It is quite understandable that she lost no time in discarding the chain-mail jacket and the steel helmet in which she had subsisted for so long and arraying herself in her very best raiment to welcome the king.

The fas.h.i.+on in clothes for ladies of rank had been changing, at the dictate of France. No longer were they content to appear in the loose flowing robes which afforded such slim chances of displaying their charms. When she went down to the drawbridge to greet the king, the fair Katherine wore a tight inner jacket of a tawny shade, b.u.t.toned straight down in front, and over this a very gay surcoat of l.u.s.trous brown and gold, with the hanging sleeves which were the very latest thing in feminine attire, and a very fetching device indeed. The surcoat was elaborately embroidered with the heraldic quarterings of the family and with a great many garters in a variety of shades. To borrow a modern word, there had been a ”run” on the garter as a symbol for decoration. It was used for the men quite as much as for the ladies, and the royal accounts refer to a blue taffeta bedcover ”powdered” with garters for the king himself. Another item is found of a jupon ”for the king's body,” with garters and buckles and pendants of silver gilt.

The king had a roving eye and a plausible tongue, but he was silent as he followed the chatelaine to the best chamber in the castle. Wark was one of the very earliest Norman castles and so was little more than an empty sh.e.l.l, the great hall extending clear to the beamed roof and the personal apartments being mere cubicles along the outer walls. The king was to have the lady's own chamber, which was little larger than any of the others but warmly furnished, no doubt, with rugs and hangings. It was reached by a steep and dark staircase opening off from the entrance.

The story runs that when they reached the entrance to the tiny room the king seemed disposed to take advantage of her husband's absence. Much to his surprise, he was rebuffed, gently but firmly.

She returned sometime later to summon him to the evening meal, which was spread out on the long table in full view below, and was somewhat disconcerted to find that he had not arrayed himself in his full finery but apparently had spent the interval in thought. He paused in the doorway and regarded her with somber eyes. She began to regret then that she had gone to such pains with her own attire, fearing that he had misconstrued her motives.

”I pray you will think well of what I have said,” stated the king, ”and so have the kindness to give me a different answer.”

”I hoped, gracious liege,” she replied, ”that the good Lord in heaven would drive from your n.o.ble heart such villainous designs.” Then she paused before going on. ”I am, and ever shall be, ready to serve you, but only in what is consistent with my honor, and with yours.”

The king was silent all through the meal and he left at an early hour the next morning. He had quite apparently given the situation much earnest thought and had arrived at a decision in line with the principles of the new order. The first thing he did on reaching his camp was to give instructions that the Earl of Salisbury, her husband, was to be ransomed and brought home at once.

This was how things stood between the king and the virtuous lady of Salisbury, if the story is to be believed, when a great ball was held at Windsor Castle to inaugurate the order. The earl had been brought back in the meantime and Edward, according to Froissart, ”expressly ordered the Earl of Salisbury to bring the lady, his wife.... All the ladies and damsels who a.s.sisted at this first convocation of the Order of the Garter came superbly dressed, excepting the Countess of Salisbury, who attended the festival dressed as plainly as possible.” It may be taken for granted that she was, nonetheless, one of the most beautiful in all that brilliant company.

It happened that the good lady had the misfortune to lose a garter during the dancing. This was quite a common occurrence, for elastic materials were still a matter of the distant future. Although she was plainly attired on the surface, the fair Katherine had seen to it that the accessories she wore were of the best. The garter certainly was a handsome little trifle, of fine silk and most neatly jeweled. Knowing to whom it belonged and being ”in full knowledge of their lord's feeling,” everyone smiled when he paused to survey it as it lay on the floor at his feet. Observing this, he stooped and picked it up and then fitted it on his own sleeve.

”Honi soit qui mal y pense [Evil to him who evil thinks],” said the king in the hearing of all.

The best that historians have to say for this legend is that the t.i.tle and motto of the order may have been acquired in some such way but that the lady in question could not have been the fair Katherine, wife of William de Montacute, Earl of Salisbury. The chief evidence against it is the fact that the king's old friend and confederate died in 1344-before the idea for the order had entered the royal head-from injuries incurred in a hastilude at Windsor, a form of tournament in which the contestants used spears. It is significant also that Froissart, who delights in all such tales and had moreover a great gift for inventing them, tells the story of Edward's pa.s.sion for the virtuous chatelaine of Wark but makes no allusion at all to the incident of the garter. It came into circulation at least a century later and was the work of one Polydore Vergil.

Other writers accepted the incident but disagreed as to the ident.i.ty of the lady. Some said it was Queen Philippa who lost the garter, which obviously was wrong, for the king would not have made his cla.s.sic remark if it had been her property; no one could think ill of a husband who wore his wife's garter on his sleeve. Still others contended that the lady of the story was none other than the Fair Maid of Kent, who later married the Black Prince. This theory seems to be based on slightly better ground. The Fair Maid, a great beauty but a far from amiable lady, was first contracted to marry the second Earl of Salisbury, the son of the fair Katherine, but allowed herself to be swept into a marriage with Lord Holland. This reigning beauty would most certainly be at the ball and, from what is known of her character, she might even have been capable of loosening her garter to attract the king's attention. Edward may not have been in love with the wife of his old friend (the fact that Froissart tells that story in such detail inclines one to believe there was some degree of truth in it), but there does not seem to be any doubt at all that the king entertained a secret liking for his beautiful madcap niece; secret only in the sense that it was never openly avowed even though it was the cause of much sly gossip about the court.

There is no way of getting closer to the truth, so it seems safe enough to a.s.sume that there was a lady who lost her garter and so provoked a much-whispered-about anecdote and led in due course to the finding of a t.i.tle for the king's order. No other explanation has been provided, at any rate, for the appearance of the words Honi soit qui mal y pense on the regalia of the order.

It is impossible to find the exact date when the order was finally established. The chapel of St. George was finished, as far as Edward was to continue with it, on August 22, 1348. It was even at that stage one of the finest examples of Perpendicular architecture in England. It was built, said the letters of patent, ”for motives of piety, to the honor of G.o.d, the Virgin Mary, St. George and St. Edward the Confessor.” There is no mention of the order. Nevertheless, it must have been in the king's mind. There is an item in the accounts, ”For making three harnesses for the king, two of white velvet worked with blue garters and diapered throughout the field with wild men.” There was in September 1351 a mention of mantles to be delivered to the knights, a receipt of payment for twenty-four robes covered with garters.

The original Companions of the order were: two princes of the blood, Edward and the Earl of Lancaster; the earls of Warwick and Salisbury; five barons, Stafford, Mortimer, Lisle, Grey, Mohun; fifteen knights, all of whom had served at Crecy, and one among them whose name stands out for valor and knightly achievement, Sir John Chandos; and the Captal de Buch, a Gascon n.o.bleman of great intrepidity and stainless reputation.

It is more interesting and significant to note those who were not included. No relatives of the queen had been invited, none of the younger princes nor the Earl of Kent, a first cousin. Men of inferior station had been preferred to such powerful members of the aristocracy as the Bohuns, Clintons, and de Veres, the earls of Hereford, Ess.e.x, and Northampton, the lords Cobham, Bourchier, and Dogworth, and Sir Walter Manny. The exclusion of so many of the aristocracy may have been due to their lack of military reputation and as such is to be commended, for if the order was to have any excuse for existence it was to pay honor to valor and chivalry. The exclusion of Sir Walter Manny is hard to understand, for no knight had been performing with greater bravery, and he had, moreover, been in charge of the siege of Calais. He was included in the second list of members.

The selection of the first Companions seems to point to a purpose on the king's part to link the order with the victory at Crecy, for none of the leaders at Neville's Cross were included.

CHAPTER XII.

The Royal Household

1.