English Campaign (Part VI)
Chapter CV : Moi, Philippe, Roi de France
An de Grâce 1218 AC.Kingdom of France.
Ile de France.
!!!Medieval Music to listen!!!
Current world...
Aide memoire:
Philippe's trips
Heroes...
Dead Heroes...
As expected, I wasn’t spared by the news.
After Zaragoza, the pest occurred in Bruges, and was said to be brought by some slave merchants from the Eastern steppes. People thought the Lord had given up the Kingdom. I was angry against such a widespread stupidity.
It wouldn’t have been such a problem if I had some funds to raise hospitals and Hospitalist abbeys. I was bankrupt, because of the massive troops I was forced to maintain. I couldn’t disband and release them in the countryside, knowing that they would surely loot the unfortunate peasants, or offering their help to the English.
My advisors were worried about the financial state of the Kingdom, after such an effort made to reunite the French lands. The economical level was decreasing, and the merchants didn’t make as much benefits as before.
Benoit de Vexin remembered me very well how the fate of the Kingdom was linked with the trade and export of goods. I still remind his hoarse voice repeating:
“Money is the sinews of war, and trade is the mother of money…”
This guy annoyed me so much but he opened my eyes on the hidden roots of victory.
The Germans kept attacking our borders with raiding troops, ravaging the countryside, and disappearing soon after.
The worst news came when a tired man entered the Court, claiming he was one of my generals. I was talking about a new economic tax law to increase the royal treasure when I heard the words of this guy, asking for meeting me.
I knew that voice and turned my head. He was one of the generals I tasked with the mission to imprison Michel in Galway, two years ago. I ordered the man to be brought in front of me.
I knew that something went wrong.
For 2 years, no news reached the Royal Court, concerning that mission, and everybody suspected the fleet having sunk in the Channel. I, first of them.
However, it wasn’t true and the general, named Richard, explained me and my advisors the truth.
- “All went right during the trip across the Channel. There were no pirate fleets, nor Normand ones.
When we went past Cornwall, an entire fleet without any flag ambushed us, and we had to sacrifice ten of our good cogs to protect the rest of the fleet. The most loyal troops were amongst them and I don’t know if they succeeded to flee or stay alive.
We continued to Ireland under the orders of Philibert, since the admiral stayed with the rear guard. Just before to arrive near Galway, we were warmed by some Merchants little ships that a grand English armada was waiting for us. Philibert took the decision to disembark and do the trip across the Irish lands.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work well. I was one of the first to disembark with the vanguard, when I understood that something went wrong amongst the fleet. The ship where was imprisoned Michel suddenly turned back and sailed North with some dozens cogs along.
I watched the admiral vessel organizing the hunt with the rest of the fleet. Unfortunately, the wind was from the East and pushed the ships offshore.
I waited for months the fleet to come back but no ship was noticed, even from Cork to Galway. As the English are currently fighting against our Irish allies, I took part of some skirmishes and then came back to France, with those sad new.
I don’t know what happened to Michel, and Philibert… Where are they? Are they still alive?
Some storms often happened those summer months in open sea. One of my men found some wood plank coming from a ship three months after that betrayal. We don’t know if it came from a French ship…
I’m sorry to announce you that fail. We did all our best to achieve it, but I fear that we are not more than a handful of sailors to tell the same story.
Désolé my lord…
“
A long silent time occurred, as my mind was lost in the Ocean, sailing with Michel, suffering the storms…
After a while, I finally came back to the reality and announced, slowly:
- “Bien,
Maybe it is better like that. The Ocean had been the last dungeon of Michel and he got lost there. May the Lord take care of his troubled soul…
Please make sure that this information will be kept secret from the People. I don’t want any trouble. What happened is done and over now…
“
Michel was no more a threat, and I knew that it was better than be worried about a possible come back from the Irish cells.
I sighed with weariness when coming back to my apartments.
Michel was an enemy but still a man who was linked with my youth.
I had lost a brother that day…
The weeks flashed past and as I was preparing for the last English campaign. I sent some trusted generals to the South to secure as much as possible the situation against the traitors Spanish, when I was gathering my soldiers in Paris. My advisors strongly motivated me to act quickly. I knew that the best was to make and build my destiny, better than undergo it.
It was time to be the official King. It was time to trigger a new beginning.
My son Philip was almost 16, ready to become a knight, and it was clear that he would also become the Heir. I didn’t have sufficient time to assess his skills but I knew it could help to solve the Spanish troubles, given that Philip was the grandson of the Spanish King.
Moreover, to be the official King would help to stop the rebellions happening all over the Kingdom since the English attacks, and forced people to admit and recognize my power and authority. I couldn’t continue to behave like the Dauphin, laughing about the destitute King Louis.
Jacques proposed an appropriated plan.
In order to win definitely the support of the Kingdom people before to be crowned, I needed to win an outstanding victory, and to show that I would protect the Christian faith, contrary to my previous behavior. Indeed, people were still worried about my origins, most particularly in the countryside. I should change it.
We decided with Jacques to take opportunity of the betrayal of some local noble from the Anjou border, and win a victory against him. The originality of that plan was that I was leading an army which was only compound of Christian soldiers: The Templar.
Jacques, the Grand Master of the Order, came with me. The local lord, named Rene, succeeded to gather some important troops, but he was clearly lacking some experienced men, and some cavalry.
I didn’t take the risk to ask for surrender. I sounded the battle horns as soon as my scouts found Rene’s army camp. I needed to fight.
The rebels hid themselves in the nearby wood. I ordered the Templar foot spearmen to prepare an ambush at my left side, and I moved forward with my “Invicible 50” lances, and the Templar Knights cavalry detachment, led by Jacques.
We were in the middle of the plain, and I stupidly thought I could lure the rebels.
Indeed, they didn’t attack us in such an open field. Hopefully for them, because my Templar spearmen were waiting hungrily the first rebels who would dare to adventure forward.
Nevertheless, it didn’t change the expected outcome.
The massacre…
Annoyed by such a long wait, I ordered the charge. After all, we were the “Invicible 50”.
Indeed we were.
We charged through the woods, and despite the little traps prepared by Rene and his peasant troops, they didn’t succeed to stop us. We crushed them without mercy.
It was the rule. I needed to be crowded as a victor.
I did it. We only lost 28 men, mostly Templar who didn’t listen to the orders to keep away from the melee.
As planned, that battle rang out amongst the Kingdom as a direct proof of my Royal fate, and the people forgot their troubles to celebrate. The most impressionable people soon believed I came from Heaven, send by the Lord to protect and develop the French Kingdom. The less naïve had to admit that my war skills were higher than anybody else in the Kingdom, and that it could allow me a place on the throne.
Ah, what a brilliant Crown celebration I did. I went to Rheims, like Clovis and Charlemagne, to receive the beautiful jewel on my head.
Those weeks of celebrations and banquets, I lived in another world and forgot all the internal problems I had to face. I spent a whole night contemplating the Charlemagne crown, thinking about the battles, the fights it had seen and took part. That holy crown had already travelled so much, did 2 Crusades, fought all over Europe.
Ah, the great banquets we did. I spent the last money of the Kingdom but it worth it.
All the money of the world would surely worth the unity of a Kingdom and my crowning was building it.
I was the “Roi Philippe”. I lied to the people saying that the old King Louis died peacefully. They believed me, and I made a fake funeral, with the corpse of one of the beggars found dead in the dirty streets of Paris.
I kept Durandal. I thought I would give that jewel up in order to take Joyeuse, but I finally couldn’t accept to leave it.
Durandal was part of my youth, part of my imagination, part of my fights…
Durandal was the friend of my last hand, the friend of my power, the friend of my will…
Yes, Durandal was mine. Forever.
I took the opportunity to proclaim Philip my official heir during the crowning.
- “I will follow your steps father, in order to increase the French power and show that we don’t need the agreement of the Pope to be feared and respected” was the sentence Philip was repeating again and again.
I wished it could be true…
Philip was objectively a common noble, even if the rightful descendant of the Royal Spanish Family. However, during the rare times I was talking with him, I felt like he was behaving as a courtier, and not as a son… Margit convinced me that he was surely impressed by me.
I believed her.
I believed my family would be the starting point of a new dynasty.
I believed of an impossible rebirth…
Soon enough, and in order to show my first son the kind gestures I had for him, I appointed him Lord High Marshall and Lord High Steward of the Kingdom. There were two well known and much sought after titles.
Moreover, I would like my son Philip to follow my steps and have soon some offspring. Margit knew a young Hungarian princess, the daughter of her brother the King. She was called Szines and it was barely the only thing we knew about her. I was so overjoyed knowing that my son Philip would marry a Hungarian princess, like me, that I didn’t care about the Hungarians demands.
We organized the wedding some weeks after my crowning. It was the occasion to celebrate more and more those good news for the Kingdom. Nevertheless, the Hungarian princess finally happened to be relatively ugly and stupid. She reminded me Clara. Philip wasn’t really happy but agreed to achieve that diplomatic and symbolic marriage.
Thanks to that marriage, we enjoyed to count one more ally. The Hungarian Kingdom…
A lot of dubbings took place for the occasion, with most particularly the one of my second son Raoul, and some children of the Royal Family, like Marc and Olivier, second son of Louis and first son of Charles.
Raoul was surely my preferred child, compared to Philip, as he shared more my point of view about the Pope and the political choices than Philip. Moreover, he was calm and clever.
And he was the result of a true love, with Margit…
He was my Jewel.
The same month, I married the second daughter of Michel, Marguerite, with one of my “invicible 50”. Marcel d’Oisy. The guy grew up in a Dauphine castle, before to join Paris and the Royal Court when he was 20. He didn’t take part of great campaigns before to meet me. He agreed to join my army when I attacked Bruges and from then on was part of my loyal knights.
That marriage was part of my strategy to dissolve the power of my previous brothers.
Everything seemed ready for a new “Kingdom Spring”…