Duke of Aquitaine (3)

Duke of Aquitaine (3)

As Edward's overlord, Philip summoned the English king to appear before the parlement in Paris and explain the conduct of his privateers. The fact the English may not have started the war at sea – it is impossible to judge who did, on available evidence – was not the point. Philip was exploiting it to his own purpose.

Cleverly, he failed to issue Edward with the conventional safe-conduct. This meant the English king had no guarantee of his safety, and so he refused to attend. As a result, he was declared a rebel and his duchy forfeit.

Meanwhile sporadic fighting broke out in Aquitaine, as both sides armed for war.

To patch things up, Edward rushed a team of envoys over to Paris led by his brother Edmund. Again, Philip was clever. While he maintained his aggressive stance in public, in private he was friendly and assured Edmund that all would be well. If the English would agree to surrender certain towns and castles in Aquitaine, Philip's agents would take possession of them for just forty days. Once this grace period was over, they would be handed back and the matter closed. Honour would be satisfied, happy days, no need for a war.

Weeks passed. While Edmund sat in Paris, nervously chewing his nails, Philip continued to stock his garrisons on the borders of Aquitaine. In response to repeated pleas from the English, he replied that all would be well. Yes, indeed. This was all for show, and there was no need to worry.

Then, in response to Edmund's final plea, the French king refused to answer. Instead he delegated two bishops, who gruffly informed the English that the duchy was now confiscated. There could be no reply, King Edward had forfeited his land, and Philip would hear no more of the matter.

Edmund sloped back to England, to report his failure to Edward and grovel for forgiveness. Without a blow struck, the English had surrendered Aquitaine to the French. Clever old Philip. In response Edward had no choice but to revoke his now-meaningless homage and declare war.

French historians have barely a good word to say of Philip's policy. Margaret Lebarge accused him of crass faithlessnesss and deceit, as did Philippe Langlois, while Charles Bémont argued that Philip meant to provoke a war all along. More than one English historian – Maurice Powicke, Michael Prestwich et al – has pointed out the eerie parallels between Philip's belligerent policy in Aquitaine and Edward's in Scotland.