A RUNAWAY BRIDEGROOM
While the English were prosecuting the siege of Calais, and Philip of
Valois was preparing to march, when too late, to relieve the town,
and while King Edward was rendering his position too strong to be
approached even by the boldest of foes, the match between the young
Count of Flanders and the Lady Isabel of England continued to excite
much interest, and to furnish material for many a dialogue. It was
understood that the ideas of the Count of Flanders on the important
subject of matrimony had undergone a total change, and that he had
become not only reconciled to his fate, but all eagerness for the
celebration of a marriage to which he had formerly expressed such a
very decided aversion; and preparations were heartily made, on one
side at least, for the great event which was to bind Flanders still
more closely to her chief commercial ally. No expense was spared. The
King of England provided rich gifts of cloths and jewels to distribute
on the wedding-day, and the queen was similarly employed, as she was
anxious to acquit herself on the occasion with honour and generosity.
In the meantime the Count of Flanders had returned to his own country,
and at Ghent he was residing under the eye of his somewhat imperious
subjects. But he was no longer a captive, nor even an object of
jealousy. Not only had he done what they wished, but he talked in such
a way as highly to gratify them. He professed to be much pleased at
everything which, at their instance, he had done--pleased with the
English match, and also with his prospective bride; and he declared
that the alliance with England was perfectly agreeable to him, in such
terms that they, believing all he said, refrained from keeping any
strict watch over him, and left him to pursue his sports without let or
hindrance.
Now, as I have before said, the Count of Flanders was marvellously fond
of hawking, and seldom allowed a day to pass without indulging in his
favourite sport. With him it was not pursued merely as a recreation,
as with most princes, but it was a passion. No one was surprised,
therefore, when one day in the week in which he was to receive the
hand of the English princess, he mounted his horse and fared forth, as
usual, with a slight attendance; which was rather a train than a guard,
and with a falconer by his side, each with a hawk on his wrist, made
for the fields outside the city.
No sooner did the party enter the fields in search of game than a heron
rose. The falconer immediately flew his hawk, and the count, having
done likewise, pretended to be absorbed in calculating the probable
result. Watching the birds attentively as they pursued their game, and
shouting "Hoye! hoye!" he followed them at a gallop till he was at
some distance from his attendants, and deliberately put in execution a
project he had formed for making his escape.
Fortunately for the count, not the slightest suspicion was entertained
that he any longer felt discontented with his position, and his
attendants ascribed his gallop to his ardour for hawking. No sooner,
however, did he gain the open field, than he struck spurs into his
horse, went off at a pace which set pursuit at defiance, and pursued
his way without stopping till he reached the county of Artois, and knew
that all danger of being captured was past.
But the Count of Flanders did not linger in Artois. Forward to the
court of France, where his heart had ever been, went he joyfully, and
chuckled with glee as he related to Philip of Valois all that had
happened.
"You have acted wisely, cousin," said Philip. "As for your betrothal,
heed it not. A forced contract is of no avail; and for the rest, I will
ally you otherwise, and more to your honour and profit."
So spake Philip of Valois; but not so spake the warriors of England,
when the Flemings, enraged and mortified, came to Calais with tidings
of their count's escape, and with befitting excuses to the English king.
"Shame upon the dog of a Fleming!" cried every one; "he has deceived
and betrayed us."
"It is true," said the king, more calmly than might have been expected.
"Nevertheless," added he, "we must not blame the Flemings, who are our
friends; but we are bound to cultivate their friendship in spite of
what has happened on this occasion; for what has happened has not been
with their consent or connivance. On the contrary, they are much, and
justly, enraged with their count's conduct."
And so King Edward accepted the excuses of the Flemings, and the matter
ended; and, ere twelve months passed over, the Lady Isabel learned that
her runaway bridegroom had espoused the daughter of the Duke of Brabant.