Free Louis: The French Prince Who Invaded England by Catherine Hanley

and who had defected and done homage to John in 1212. The text of John’s letter accepting Renaud’s homage is illustrative in more ways than one: ‘Know that we have accorded to our friend and liegeman Renaud de Dammartin, count of Boulogne, the assurance that we will not conclude without him either peace or truce with the king of France nor with his son Louis.’ The specific mention of Louis’s name indicates that, as far as John and Renaud were concerned, he was now considered a force in his own right.
    William the Breton, who tells us of this letter, is admittedly not very keen on Renaud de Dammartin. He felt the count’s betrayal of his king very deeply and heaps accusations upon him: Renaud persecutes his neighbours, says William; he dispossesses widows and orphans, gives himself up to debauchery and promenades his concubines in public, to the shame of his wife in whose right he holds his lands. The Minstrel of Reims goes even further, depicting Renaud engaging in a bout of unseemly and almost certainly fictional fisticuffs in the royal court itself. While we must allow for the Minstrel’s dramatic licence and William’s own chagrin, and not take all the accusations at face value, it seems clear that feelings were running deep in France over Renaud’s defection to John.
    King Philip, already in conflict with John and Otto, could not let lie the treachery of two of his own lords. It was at this time that he first formed an idea of invading England, possibly reckoning that attack was the best form of defence. At the same time, the spring of 1213, he finally agreed to reinstate Ingeborg to her rightful position as queen (although he did not consent to live with her as husband and wife), thus becoming at a stroke the pope’s new favourite son. Pope Innocent was still in conflict with John over John’s refusal to accept the preferred papal candidate, Stephen Langton, as archbishop of Canterbury, and he eventually lost patience, declaring that John should be dispossessed of his crown, and appointing Philip as the man to carry out the sentence. In April Philip called a council of his nobles at Soissons, and stated his intention to conquer England and name Louis as its king.
    Why did Philip not want the crown for himself? He was probably not all that interested in England, and may not have had any desire to cross the Channel himself, but it would make France more secure to have the neighbouring realm out of Plantagenet hands, and if Philip did not want the crown for himself then Louis, his faithful and obedient son, was clearly the next best choice. As one might expect, the offer was hedged around with conditions: Louis swore that if he were to become king of England he would make no claim on any French territory while Philip still lived, and he would demand from his English subjects that they would not seek to harm the king or the kingdom of France. For Philip the plan, if it succeeded, would be a win–win situation: his own kingdom would be safe from danger, the threat from England eliminated, and an outlet provided for Louis’s martial ardour and political ambitions, without Philip having to give up anything which was his. For Louis the attractions were equally obvious: a chance for military glory and a kingdom of his own.
    The date set for the gathering of the fleet was 10 May 1213, but due to the huge logistical operation required to collect and outfit the ships it did not actually happen until 22 May. At first glance the extra twelve days should not have made much of a difference, but the delay allowed two things to happen. Firstly there was good news for Philip and Louis: an experienced naval commander known as Eustace the Monk, of whom we shall learn more later, deserted the English camp and sold his services, his knowledge and his wealth of maritime experience to the French. But the second occurrence was to turn all the French plans to dust.
    Perhaps realising what very real danger he and his kingdom were