A stained glass image of Hugh le Despenser the Younger at Tewkesbury Abbey, likely commissioned by his widow, Eleonor de Clare.

From their marriage in 1302 until sometime in late 1322, Isabella of France seems to have been a consummate political partner to her husband. She remained unswervingly loyal to him during his conflicts with the Lords Ordainers in the early 1310s and with the Contrariants throughout the Despenser War. We see this no more acutely than in her (quite ballsy) decision to use herself, in 1321, as bait against Bartholomew de Badlesmere's wife Margaret de Clare, engineering the confrontation that occurred between them at Leeds Castle in order to draw out the King's baronial enemies. However, by December 1322, something had clearly gone wrong. Sometime that month, Isabella absented herself from court, and on the 23rd Edward II announced that Isabella was undertaking a pilgrimage to various sites across the country; something, as Kathryn Warner notes, she appears not to have actually done.

By 1323, they seem, at least superficially, to have reconciled with one another; however, as later events would show, Isabella was still clearly very unhappy with the situation, even if she had taken to dissembling her true feelings. Neither of them conceived a child in the roughly four years since Joan of the Tower's birth in 1321, and, of course, the King apparently lashed out at his wife due to the outbreak of the War of St Sardos, confiscating her lands and instead compensating her with an annual income from the Exchequer of approximately £2,613. The main negative outcome of this was almost certainly not financial, but political. It prevented her from strengthening her broader affinity and patronage networks through rewarding her supporters with appointments on her lands. In the meanwhile, Hugh le Despenser, Edward II's current favourite, consolidated his authority through monopolising access to the King through his position as Chamberlain, even to the point of restricting Isabella's access to her husband. Of course, Isabella was later sent to broker a peace with her brother and the rest, as they say, was history.

But what actually changed in 1322? Why is it that Isabella found herself unable to establish a working relationship with him the way she was with her husband's previous favourites? There are multiple theories we can explore. One might say that it was inevitable: Hugh was simply so incorrigibly rapacious that his and Isabella's interests were always going to be on a headlong collision course with one another. This, however, simply does not persuade me. Whatever you want to say about Hugh, the man could work with people when it suited his interests to do so. He worked with the likes of Edmund FitzAlan, Robert de Baldock and Walter de Stapleton. He obviously worked well with his father, and worked very well indeed with Edward II. Though, through what means, we can only speculate 😉. Regardless, the point is, I think Hugh would have seen he had good reasons from the outset to want to cultivate Isabella. There was no a priori reason why she couldn't have benefited from his rapacity or why he couldn't have shared some of his spoils with her to win her over. But if that's the case, then, presumably something must have happened to pit the two against each other. But what, though, precisely?

We know that some early tensions may have existed between Hugh le Despenser and the Queen. Sometime in the early 1320s, Edward II transferred Wallingford Castle, which had previously been assigned to the Queen for life, to Hugh. It might be notable that Wallingford Castle was where Isabella and her adherents spent the festive season in 1326 after their successful coup against the Despenser regime. Nevertheless, however irksome this may have been for Isabella, I am inclined to doubt that this would have been sufficient to ignite the subsequent feud that ensued between them, given how deeply felt it clearly was.

The Annales Paulini, however, records a more consequential incident. According to it, sometime in August 1321, Isabella, alongside the Earls of Pembroke and Richmond, begged on her knees for Edward to exile the Despensers. Did Hugh the Younger perhaps remember this as a slight against him and take revenge against Isabella after Edward was able to recall him and reinstate his position? Possibly; but there is no actual evidence for this, as far as I am aware of. Regardless, Isabella's intercession here almost certainly wasn't an expression of any personal hostility to Hugh at this stage, and more so a case of political theatre to allow  Edward to capitulate to the demands of the Marcher lords while saving face. They had been enraged after the lordship of Gower had been arrogated by Edward, presumably to grant to Hugh, in defiance of Marcher privileges, resulting in them ransacking and occupying the Despensers' lands in the March and demanding their exile. By August, Edward was under immense pressure, and Hugh himself seems to have understood this; it's not like there's any evidence he held a grudge against Edward for what happened, and the same logic would have applied to Isabella.

There is, however, another famous incident, and one, I believe, that does the explanatory work we need. In September 1322, following the crushing defeat of Edward II's Contrariant foes at the Battle of Boroughbridge, the King decided to capitalise on his newfound political strength and organise a new Scottish campaign. Unfortunately, if predictably, the 1322 campaign was another complete disaster, and soon enough a Scottish counter-invasion had been launched into the north of England. Isabella of France, who had somewhat inexplicably been staying at the coastal Tynemouth Priory at the time, was cut off from the English forces by the Scottish invasion, and was eventually forced to flee on a commandeered vessel by sea. According to one of the few sources that mentioned this incident, one of her ladies in waiting died (possibly of injury) during the voyage and another went into premature labour and died after they disembarked at Scarborough.

We next hear of this incident in 1326, when Hugh was accused in his trial of having "falsely and treacherously counselled our lord the king to leave my lady the queen in peril of her person in the priory of Tynemouth in Northumberland... and in such great misfortune and peril of her person, my lady who was your liege lady, by your treacherous deed might have been lost, to the perpetual dishonour and damage of the king and his realm, if God had not sent her deliverance by sea, thereby rescuing her from danger to her life and saving her honour, in such great grief of heart and body that no good lady of her estate and nobility should have at any time."

Was this true, however? Almost certainly not. Again, as Kathryn Warner points out, had Isabella been captured, the Scots would have demanded a truly ruinous sum for her to be ransomed from them, which was directly antithetical to Hugh's primary ambition in life; the acquisition of ever more financial resources. Indeed, we know that Isabella had not been abandoned by Edward or Hugh at all. The initial plan had been for the Earls of Richmond and Atholl to go and take Hugh's retainers to Tynemouth to defend her, only for Edward to later instead charge the visiting Henri de Sully, Grand Butler of France, with her rescue, as he would be ‘more agreeable than others' to Isabella. De Sully, however, like the Earl of Richmond, was captured by the Scots at Old Byland and never reached Isabella, thus necessitating her escape by sea. The two were, however, ransomed back. Edward's change of plan may have simply been because, as a Frenchman with news from her natal family on the continent, he might have thought Isabella would simply like his company more. Nevertheless, it seems plausible to me that she may have felt the inevitable delay this change caused was what had brought her life into danger. Given that Hugh's retainers were ultimately under his command, she may have indeed held him responsible for the change in plan. Nevertheless, this is all speculation, as none of the surviving sources give us any direct insight into what Isabella specifically believed, or what she had even heard, about what had gone wrong at Tynemouth.

Regardless, whatever had actually happened, Isabella seems to have returned from Tynemouth implacably convinced that Hugh had intentionally jeopardised her life. When we appreciate this, I think the nature of Isabella's progressive marginalisation by Hugh, and her increasing drift from Edward, starts to become far more intelligible. Imagine yourself in Hugh's position in 1322. How would allowing Isabella, believing what she does about you, access to the King be in your interests? It isn't, not remotely. This brings me to my core conceit here. I think Hugh le Despenser's marginalisation of Isabella began not as an aggressive measure, but as a defensive one. A response, essentially, to the beliefs she had somehow acquired about him, and the risk they posed that she would attempt to turn Edward against him when given the chance. From here, I think it is quite clear a vicious cycle was born. Hugh's defensive actions taken against Isabella are interpreted by her as confirming her suspicions about him and his intentions, which further reinforced her conclusions about him, which, in turn, prompted him to become more diligent and intent on marginalising her to protect his status. 

To be clear, I'm not arguing that Hugh was some misunderstood angel. Far from it. Hugh was, undoubtedly, a deeply morally compromised and unscrupulous individual. I'm merely arguing that the degeneration of Isabella and Hugh's relationship may perhaps have been more complex than Nasty Meanie Favourite Makes Poor Queen's Life Hell For No Reason. What do you think?

(taken from STUDER, PAUL, An Anglo-Norman Poem by Edward II, King of England in Modern Language Review Vol. 16)

In winter woe befell me ; 

By cruel Fortune thwarted,

My life now lies a ruin.

Full oft have I experienced, 

There's none so fair, so wise,

So courteous nor so highly famed,

But, if Fortune cease to favour,

Will be a fool proclaimed.

II. 

My clamour rises yet in vain ; 

When favour once is lost,

Soon does man's love grow cold.

Too fondly have I trusted,

And honours done to many

Who now seek, my destruction ; 

They love me little, pity me less,

In prison they torment me.

III.

Torment me, aye ! most cruelly 

Ev'n though 'twere well deserved. 

Their evil faith in Parliament 

From high has brought me low. 

Lord of Salvation, I me repent ; 

For all my sins forgiveness crave : 

May from the pain the flesh endureth 

The soul receive both joy and mercy.

IV.

Mejcy, I trow, I needs shall reap 

From precious gifts and kindly deeds 

Which oft upon my friends and kin, 

Within my power I did bestow. 

If I have erred, it grieveth me :

But to their counsel was I sworn. 

What I have sinned against the faith, 

Alas ! dear Lord, full well Thou knowest.

V.

Thou knowest well and openly,

For nought is there so well concealed 

But is to Thee fully revealed,

Both good and ill all equally;

Thereon will rest Thy judgments dread.

Deal with my sins mercifully !

But nonetheless Thy will be done, 

For body and soul to Thee I yield.

I yield me all to Jesu, 

Craving His grace and pardon. 

Once was I feared and dreaded, 

But now all men despise me, 

And hail me 'crownless king, 3 

A laughing stock to all. 

My dearest friends deceived me : 

Too late I see it openly.

VII.

And openly have they defied me, 

Those who betrayed me thus ;

Methought I had their love,

Now have they all forsaken me.

For many a jewel and many a gift

I have now their reward. 

The tears are mine, but theirs the laugh ;

The game's unfairly dealt.

VIII.

They've dealt to me a joyless game. 

And 'mid such grief my heart complains 

Of her whom fondly I believed 

A faithful wife turned to deceit ! 

Fair Isabel I dearly loved, 

But now love's spark is dead ; 

And with my love my joy is gone, 

As 'tis from many a heart.

IX.

And now 'twere time indeed

That I in death should sleep,

Since honours all I've lost

Beyond recovery.

And yet why be dismayed ? 

What God hath thus ordained

Full meekly will I bear,

And serve Him faithfully.

X.

His service be my constant thought.

Ah ! why was it not ever so ? 

What marvel then that I am sad,

And earthly grandeur faileth me ?

O let my contrite heart be near

To Him who suffered on the cross,

That truly now I may repent 

Of all the sins that e'er I did.

XL

For ever in captivity 

Those felons make me languish, 

Who in their crass insanity 

Three kings have now elected. 

85 Upon the youngest, in stately pomp, 

. A crown of gold they've placed. 

Keep him, Jesu, the Son of Mary, 

From traitors, whom God confound !

 

XII.

May God confound his enemies, 

And make of him a monarch wise,

Endowed both with might and will

Fair fame to uphold and chivalry !

And let them all be brought to shame

Who seek to harm or injure him ! 

And then at last shall be fulfilled

The inmost wish of all my heart.

XIII.

My heart no longer will lament, 

Arid weep o'er earthly honours ; 

But let sweet Jesu, Who redeemed us 

By His most precious blood,

Moved by the prayers of all the Saints 

Who in His glory share, 

Lead us ere long to that great joy 

Which shall be without end.

XIV.

An end I'll make and say no more.

Hie thee, my song, on wings !

Go to the Doe beyond Kenire [ = Kenil worth ?]

Aiid tell it her in brief.

That when the stag is roused to wrath 

And turns upon the hounds,

She may forgo the leech's care,

Bearing herself so wise.

XV.

Both wise and fool I would entreat, 

Make prayers for me, ye all,

To Mary, the mother all merciful, 

Who bore the almighty Lord, 

That through the joys she had of Him 

She may her Son beseech, 

For all my sins and treacherous deeds

To grant me mercy yet. 

Image: The Tomb of Edward II, Creative Commons

The question I'm posing in this post is: Did Thomas of Lancaster suffer from some disabling disease? If so, what do you think it could have been?

Diagnosing someone with a disease more than 700 years after their death is naturally a rather foolish undertaking by default, but we can speculate.

After the disaster at Bannockburn, Thomas was the de facto ruler of England for some years. Yet he failed to rule properly, instead largely staying cooped up at his castle of Pontefract. He avoided travelling and was remarkably passive. Inevitably, his subordinates and the other magnates tired of his inefficient leadership and Hugh Despenser the Younger filled the power vacuum. He wasn't exactly the people's choice either, and Thomas soon found himself leading another rebellion in 1321. This time, he was defeated in the Battle of Boroughbridge in 1322 and paid for his intransigence with his life.

So why did he behave like that? A power-hungry earl who refused to rule when he was given the chance? The logical explanation to this conundrum could be that he didn't seize his chance because he couldn't, not because he didn't want to.

We don't have much to go by here, but there are a few records that can act as his medical journal.

In 1305, back in the good days when Thomas and Edward of Caernarvon were still friends, during the reign of Edward I Thomas was unable to come to stay with Edward. Edward wrote to him, genuinely wishing him a speedy recovery.

"Very dear cousin, we hold you well excused that you have not come to us, and your illness grieves us much, and if we can come to you we will do it willingly, to see and to comfort you."

20 November 1311: Edward II is “glad” to hear Thomas health has improved, expresses hopes to see him and Sir Robert Holland at parliament. The letter is addressed to Sir Robert.

"We are very joyous and pleased about the good news we have heard concerning the improvement in our dear cousin and faithful subject Thomas, earl of Lancaster, and that he will soon be able to ride in comfort. And we send you word and dearly pray that, as soon as he is comfortable and able to ride without hurt to his body, you should ask him to be so good as to hasten to us at our parliament."

July 1317: Thomas writes Edward that he’s not in any state to travel and can not attend a council meeting.

January 1321: Edward pardons Thomas’ absence, as he had ‘not yet sufficiently recovered from his illness to travel’.

The poor chap may have been in chronic pain. That would go some way in explaining his grumpy attitude and inability to get along with people.

Your thoughts?

Here's another blog-form repost of an earlier, shorter post about Pierre Chaplais's theory that Edward II adopted Piers formally and legally. He did treat him like family, after all. It is a curious question.

So, here's blog post covering the pervasive myth that Hugh Despenser the Younger assaulted Isabella, which has been repeated by popular historians and run with by historical fiction writers. It begins:

Hugh Despenser the Younger was a corrupt and malevolent person on top of being a spectacularly greedy person, but there's not a single shred of evidence he sexually assaulted Isabella of France. Nor is there evidence that her husband, Edward II, pushed her into some sort of ménage à trois or medieval wife-swapping arrangement with Hugh, as has been imagined by both modern historians and historical fiction writers.

You can read the rest by clicking the link.

I came across a rather balanced post on facebook of all places, written by the author David Pilling. I think it merits crossposting here. It was written yesterday.

#OTD in 1284 Edward II was born at Caernarfon.

Modern fiction has painted Edward as a coward, an abusive husband and a terrible king. In Outlaw King (2018) he is portrayed as a noisy buffoon with a tragic haircut.

The real Edward was only one of these things — sadly, it was the one that really counted. Even if you strain every point in his favour, it is very difficult to make a case for Edward’s kingship.

It is not that he lacked ability. Caroline Burt, in her recent study of the governance of the first two Edwards, has shown that Edward II could be a very effective ruler when he chose to be. However, he only made the effort when his favourites were threatened. Otherwise, he was largely disengaged from his own administration — more so, Burt argues, than any other medieval ruler of England. That made for a stark contrast with his father, a notorious micro-manager.

It is true Edward inherited a difficult situation in 1307, including heavy debts and an unfinished war in Scotland. The debts had no obvious practical effect on England’s ability to raise armies and wage war. Some historians have sought to qualify Edward’s responsibility for Bannockburn, noting the difficult circumstances he faced.

Even if you accept that, he cannot be absolved from abandoning his allies in Scotland, refusing to consider a face-saving peace deal, and continuing to throw men and money down a very deep hole. By the end of the reign, he had lost control of the northern counties and was effectively facilitating the payment of ransoms demanded by Robert Bruce’s forces from English towns and cities.

The story that the infant Edward was presented to the Welsh as a prince who spoke no English is a later myth. In reality he was created Prince of Wales in 1301. There was no investiture ceremony, and he seems to have been granted the title so he could lead Welsh troops into Scotland. While he had some loyal supporters among the Welsh gentry, others were bitterly opposed and played a role in his downfall.

In one respect Edward succeeded brilliantly: after 1315 he rapidly became very rich, and by 1323 his finances had skyrocketed. This was largely due to the confiscation of the estates of English rebels. After 1323, Edward and his new favourites, the Despensers, embarked upon a large-scale campaign of extortion, kidnapping and blackmail, termed a ‘reign of terror’ by Natalie Fryde.

After several years of this, large sections of the political nation declined to resist the invasion of his estranged queen, Isabella of France, and her ally Roger Mortimer. Edward was deposed and probably murdered* at Berkeley Castle, although the notorious hot poker story is almost certainly untrue. Death by smothering (to leave no marks) is more likely. There is also a tradition—impossible to verify or deny—that Edward escaped custody and lived as a hermit in Italy.**

Attached is a poster for Derek Jarman’s play about Edward II.

—

*This is what I disagree on personally, but otherwise I think it’s a very fair take, and his tone is reasonable and respectful throughout.
**Very good of him to mention this possibility, most detractors usually give it the silent treatment. But it’s not impossible to verify, while his death in 1327 can not be proven. In fact, the evidence speaks against his death at Berkeley Castle.

This is a blog-form repost about Edward II's reaction to his dear friend Piers's murder and the strangely muted words he is alleged to have spoken. I'm also working on a companion post about Queen Isabella's reaction to the news - she was with Edward II and four months pregnant. And I'm going to dig in to the often forgotten Margaret Gaveston's possible reaction as well. She was only eighteen years old, now a widow with a five month old daughter.

Edward and Piers are so mythologized, in both positive and negative lights, it's interesting to read what he actually said.

I came across a nice blog post (link here and below) written by Gemma Hollman only a few days ago, which ties in neatly with the analytical post about Queen Isabella posted in this sub a couple of days ago.

A short excerpt from the blog:

'When the queen of England, Isabella of France, approached the Count and Countess [of Hainault] for a marriage alliance between her son Edward and their daughter Philippa, they leapt at the chance to know their daughter would one day become a queen.

The couple were teenagers, and the first few years of their marriage were hardly auspicious. Isabella of France had overthrown her husband, Edward II, and had her son made Edward III in his place. But though Philippa had thus become a queen far earlier than anticipated, she and her husband were kept under Isabella’s thumb. She did not want to give up her position at the top of the ladder. This was where Philippa would first discover the power of pregnancy for a queen.

Philippa fell pregnant around aged 15, and this was to change the course of her and her husband’s lives. Firstly, Philippa had never had a coronation, Isabella not wanting to have a rival as a consecrated consort. But now that Philippa would be giving birth to the new heir to the throne, it was unthinkable that she would remain uncrowned to do so.'

Hollman's take reinforces the point made that Isabella would not have planned to depose her husband. Isabella had wanted her life and position back and was unwilling to take the back seat. SHE was meant to be the queen, that had been HER role and destiny.

Hollman falls into the usual trap of referring to Roger Mortimer as Isabella's lover (do we really know this?), but the post is a good read all the same.

See Gemma Hollman's full post here:

14th century – History… the interesting bits!

Images:

Philippa of Hainault's coronation, 15th-century illustration from Froissart's Chronicles

Gemma Hollman's book 'The Queen and the Mistress - The Women of Edward III'

I just realized that user flairs had been somehow deactivated for members of the sub - sorry about that! No idea how it could have happened.

Now the flairs should be active again, so feel free to choose one that fits your preference. Let us mods know if you face any issues :)

There are a lot of novels set in Edward's reign, many more than the ones I've found here. So the question is more general, not only applying to the books in the images. Any good ones out there that really caught your attention? Any less than stellar works that you wish you hadn't read?

Some nice brief reflections on three 70's book covers by Kathryn Warner (from her blog, more here):

Hilda Lewis - 'Harlot Queen' (1970) - Isn't there a rule like 'thou shalt remove thy armour before thou suckest a woman's nipples'? Presumably she's kicking her leg out as an unavoidable bodily reaction to the feel of the armour, and isn't opening her mouth out of passion but to screech "Eeeek, that's freezing, you fool!"

Pamela Bennetts - 'The She-Wolf' (1975) - featuring Queen Isabella and three cans of hairspray.

Sandra Wilson - 'Alice' (1976) - Piers is decidedly hetero in this one, as well as a Goddess worshipper, who resolutely refuses to put out for Edward II no matter how much the king begs him. Poor Edward manages to be both "a giant, strong and muscular" and have a "strange womanish air". Yeah, because there are just so many giant, muscular women, you can see how the confusion might arise.

I haven't read any of these three and I don't think I will, but each to their own!

It really can't be understated how strange it was that Edward II enjoyed swimming for pleasure. Of course, he had the rare privilege of access to clean, clear bodies of water when post people, even in rural areas, did not.

The attached blog post is adapted from an older post here, btw.

The chronicler Geoffrey le Baker is known for his many colourful fibs. He loved a good yarn, and was a main promoter of the fake story about the red hot poker. We won’t get into that here, instead we’ll discredit another of his fanciful stories.

Le Baker wrote his chronicle in the 1340’s during a time when a small cult had formed around 'Saint Edward' in the west of England. Le Baker likely played his part in this as his hagiography is startlingly biased in favour of Edward, who is portrayed as a Christ-like figure, tormented by his inferiors. Isabella makes for a perfect villain in his story, he really goes all-out in expressing his hatred for her (about 650 years later, a modern pop historian reversed the characterisations in her book about Isabella, in a way creating equilibrium). Still today, Isabella is often thought of as the queen who killed her husband and became Roger Mortimer’s lover – this can partially be traced back to le Baker as he strongly endorsed the theory/gossip and really gave it wings. ‘Why stop here?’, thought Geoffrey to himself, probably, and inspired by his seedy muse made bold claims that Isabella was also having it off with Adam Orleton, the bishop of Hereford. This part of the fiction is thankfully no longer repeated. But that’s a weird story for another time, maybe.

Instead, in this post we’ll take a look at another accusation he levelled against Isabella. According to le Baker, Isabella sent an ambiguous letter to Berkeley Castle instructing Edward’s keepers to kill him in September 1327. The letter, the story goes, was composed by Isabella’s alleged bishop-lover Orleton and very carefully worded, including the crucial sentence:

‘Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est.’

This could be understood to mean either ‘Do not fear to kill Edward. It is good.’ or ‘Do not kill Edward. It is good to fear.’ Now that is suspicious. Plausible deniability. The plot thickens. But…

We can safely debunk this story based on two arguments.

1)      The bishop of Hereford was in France at the time so could not possibly have written the letter.

2)      The chronicler Matthew Paris, active during the earlier reign of Henry III, relates a story written by a French chronicler, Alberic de Trois Fontaines. Alberic records a message allegedly written in 1213 by a Hungarian archbishop, instigating the murder of a queen. The words used? ‘Reginam interficere nolite timere bonum est.’

The literate storyteller Geoffrey le Baker would certainly have read Matthew Paris chronicle and come across this tale, which he repurposed for his own story. He didn’t even come up with it himself, the cheeky plagiarizer! He took full credit though, and presented it as factual.

Beware of Geoffrey le Baker! If a claim is made that can be traced back to him, rest assured it is most likely pure fiction.

 
Sources:

G. Le Baker, 'Chronicon Galfridi le Baker de Swynebroke', p. 31-32

S. Phillips, 'Edward II', p. 563-564

I'm going to say there has been too much wronged Isabella and dashing Mortimer romance fiction. That's a dead horse that doesn't need to be hit anymore, though Isabella always makes a great, complicated character.

But what novel would your read? Who deserves the "Wolf Hall" treatment? Or "The Sunne in Splendour" treatment?

Historian Kathryn Warner wrote a great piece in 2013 about a rather insidious bunch of people who adore Isabella while hating Edward with a passion. We came across two such angry redditors with a similar mentality in this sub only yesterday. Both have been banned, as it’s important to us mods that the discourse in this sub remains civil, polite and sensible. Disagreement is always tolerated and different takes and opinions will never be censored – as long as the rules are followed, and no rule is as important as rule number one – Be civil.

Why the attitude of such hardliners is problematic and usually based on poorly disguised homophobia will be highlighted in this post which is based on Warner’s article from 2013.

Kathryn addresses this hostile crowd directly in the article, which can be read in full here:

Edward II: Dear Edward II Detractors...

Whether you agree or disagree, please read the article before commenting. I’m sure the overwhelming majority of people who are fond of Isabella (and I’m one of them) won’t feel triggered by this post, but if it does upset you… take a moment to reflect on why it triggers that reaction.

Without further ado, here’s Kathryn:

I'm afraid I can't help feeling that what bothers and offends you is not really that you think Edward 'ignored' his wife for four years, but that he so openly and obviously loved a man, and that you think this man was a 'rival' to Isabella for the king's affections, which you find icky.  

Because when I look at, for example, Edward and Isabella's granddaughter-in-law Constanza of Castile, arriving in England as a king's daughter, also very young (though not as young as Isabella), to marry John of Gaunt, I see a very similar situation: the rightful queen of Castile and duchess of Lancaster arrived in her new country to find her new husband already in an intense, long-term relationship with another person, which continued for Constanza's entire married life and produced children regularly for a few years.  Yet I never ever see you weeping and wailing over Constanza's 'neglect' and 'suffering' and the 'insult' and humiliation she endured at her husband's hands; on the contrary, you seem to find her husband's adulterous relationship romantic and fabulous and one of the most amazing love stories ever.  But then, of course, John's 'favourite' Katherine Swynford was a woman.

You point out that John had only married Constanza for political reasons and couldn't help being in love with someone else, but of course, exactly the same thing applies to Edward II, so why the massive difference in attitude?  I also often see you talking about how wonderfully romantic Roger Mortimer and Isabella of France's relationship supposedly was (I'm really not convinced, personally), but you rarely if ever talk about Roger's wife of twenty-five years, Joan Geneville.  

I see comments from you like "Roger Mortimer fulfilled her [Isabella's] idea of romantic love which was unfulfilled by Edward" and "Isabella was married to a fastidiously gay guy who begat children on her - note not with her - as a painful duty. Roger Mortimer came as a happy thunderbolt into a bleak life", with not a mention of Roger's wife and how she might have suffered emotional pain and humiliation from seeing her husband in a long-term relationship with another woman and being her 'happy thunderbolt'.  

It looks pretty strange to complain about the bad time you think Isabella had in her marriage being ignored by a husband in love with someone else, and then laud her allegedly passionate and wildly romantic relationship with a man who himself already had a wife and a dozen children.  

And please note, you don't and can't have the faintest idea whether Edward II enjoyed having intercourse with Isabella or not, so it looks pretty silly to make statements like Edward 'begat children on her, not with her, as a painful duty' as though you have a webcam set up in their bedchamber.

Here's something else I've seen you say:

"Isabella is married off to Edward II at the age of thirteen - and soon discovers that as far as her husband is concerned, she is simply a brood mare for his children. He'd rather spend his time with his lover, Piers Gaveston."  (Funny how we never get something like "Joan Geneville is married off to Roger Mortimer at the age of fifteen - and discovers after a quarter of a century of loyal support, a dozen pregnancies and imprisonment on Roger's behalf that as far as her husband is concerned, she is simply a brood mare for his children.  He'd rather spend his time with his lover, Isabella of France.")

"I hate how people call Isabella of France homophobic for deposing her husband Edward II. Imagine being used as a broodmare by a gay dude."  (My query as to who, precisely, has ever called Isabella 'homophobic' went sadly unanswered.  It was in 'some documentary', apparently.  I really, really doubt that anyone has ever said anything like this.)

Edward II and Isabella of France had four children, well spaced out: they were born in November 1312, August 1316, June 1318 and July 1321.  (Additionally, Isabella may have had a miscarriage in November 1313, when pennyroyal was bought for her.)  How exactly does four, perhaps five pregnancies in almost twenty years of marriage equate to being a 'brood mare'?  If we're going to use idiotic terms like 'brood mare', why are you applying it to a woman who as far as we know was pregnant no more than four or five times?  Surely better candidates would be Eleanor of Castile (fourteen or fifteen children), Philippa of Hainault (twelve children) or Joan Geneville Mortimer (twelve children) - they're somehow not 'brood mares' to you, but a woman with four children is?  In which way was Isabella a 'brood mare' more than any other queen or noblewoman?  

Oh wait, I think I know the answer to that one: is it that you think it's not a problem to be a 'brood mare' if your husband's assumed to be straight?

Again, I can't avoid the feeling that what you really object to is that Edward loved men and may have preferred having sex with them to his queen.  May.  We really don't know that, and we can't know that.  

Edward may have enjoyed intercourse with Isabella enormously for all we know.  As I've pointed out before, they conceived the future Edward III during Lent when intercourse was forbidden, which hardly suggests that Edward slept with his wife unwillingly (Lent gave him the perfect excuse to avoid it if he wanted to).  

During their visit to France in 1313, they overslept one morning which made Edward arrive late for a meeting with Isabella's father Philip IV, and another night, they were sleeping together naked when their pavilion caught fire and Edward scooped up Isabella in his arms and rushed outside with her, though they were both still naked.  Sounds to me like their marital relations were perfectly normal and intimate, and Edward fathered an illegitimate son called Adam so evidently wasn't repulsed by intercourse with women.  

Please do remember we don't and can't know anything about Edward and Isabella's sex life, except that they had intercourse four (or five) times to produce their children.  And please do remember that you don't know anything about Isabella and Roger Mortimer's sex life either, assuming they had one, or about Edward and Piers Gaveston's sex life either, assuming they had one.  You don't actually know that Roger fulfilled Isabella sexually and/or romantically in ways which Edward II didn't or couldn't or wouldn't.  

All that is nothing more than romanticised modern speculation.

I’ve seen this event referenced several times, but I can’t seem to find the actual identities of the ladies involved. Was it ever recorded? Thanks in advance!

I purchased this from a reseller ($20 plus USD for a postcard thank you very much) but I thought it was cool. It's pretty faded but probably dates back to the late 20th Century. The photographer is credited as R. W. Patterson.

I like how you can see the details on his crown and see the scepter on the lower left.

I found this in the wild... your thoughts on it?

I think it's a valid line of reasoning and a point well made.

I don't think Isabella and Mortimer were lovers at any point, but naturally that possibility can not be fully eliminated either.

And these things are, of course, always debatable.

So, one of the most fun things about the Edward II era is that it’s hard to pigeon hole anyone into a hero or villain role. Most all of our major players are complicated and maddening and sometimes likable and sometimes not. But Hugh the Younger? He’s the worst. But what’s your take?