Born a King; The Life and Times of John the Posthumous
- Thread starter Space Oddity
- Start date
Considering that Edward was born four years before the POD, I don't see why you'd think that.
1328-31: Scotland
1328-31: SCOTS WHA HAE
"As he entered into the final year of his life, Robert the Bruce could look back at an astonishing wave of successes. He had seen the Scottish cause revive from near-collapse, had driven Edward II's armies from Scotland, been acknowledged as king by the Papacy and most other states, save England, had revived the Auld Alliance with the Treaty of Corbeil[1], and perhaps most satisfying, had seen his excommunication and the interdict of Scotland lifted[2]. Three things marred this--the horrific disease that was killing him[3], the ongoing war with England, presently only paused by a truce[4], and the extreme youth of his heir, John, the only surviving boy of twins[5]. Each of these problems by itself would have proven a threat. Together, they would nearly lead to the undoing of all of Robert's hard work.
"Robert watched the growing chaos in England with a hungry eye, for he thought he perceived a chance to bring Edward to the table and finally force a formal recognition of the Scottish Kingdom[6]. Troops were even gathered at the border, when Robert's ailment flared up and sent the entire plan to the wayside. As it became obvious that this attack would likely prove fatal, Robert threw his remaining energies into ensuring his son would see a clean transfer of power. His longtime supporter and nephew, Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray would be named Guardian of Scotland, an able prop for his young son[7]. With his legacy in this world as secure as he could make it, Robert went to work on the next, giving various legacies to religious houses to pray for his soul, most notably for his failure to take up the cross and fight the Saracen. Indeed, Robert made a special bequest on this matter--his heart was to be removed and taken on an armed pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, following which it would be interred in Melrose Abbey. Alas, for Robert, the projected Crusade in the Holy Land never materialized, and so his heart would have to settle for being taken along a Castilian expedition against Granada.[8] And so it was in 1329, on the 5th of June, Robert the Bruce passed away.
"Young John would be proclaimed King of Scots immediately on his father's death, though his coronation at Scone would wait until late in 1331. A debate arose on whether his regnal name should be changed[9], but ultimately it was decided that "the second John shall make up for the first" and so he became John II of Scotland. Alas for the young monarch, enemies were already gathering. And, most worryingly of all, they were not all English."
--From Crowned Upon the Stone; the Story of Scotland, by Gyth Gythson (1998)
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[1] Signed OTL and TTL in 1326.
[2] This occurred in 1328, though papal recognition was a sign that it was on its way.
[3] Commonly reported as leprosy, though in truth, it is something of a mystery.
[4] IOTL, he would die with a treaty with England. That Edward III would proceed to tear up and stomp on.
[5] IOTL, John died, and his brother David lived.
[6] IOTL, he took the chance of Isabella's invasion to do just that. One embarrassing campaign later, and the Mortimer government was signing a treaty. Despite having criticized Edward II for his handling of Scotland.
[7] Guardian of Scotland was the official title for a Regent. Moray was indeed named to the post at Robert's death IOTL as well.
[8] This is all OTL. Even the campaign in Granada.
[9] A similar debate IOTL saw Robert II Stewart's eldest son change his name from "John" to "Robert"
"As he entered into the final year of his life, Robert the Bruce could look back at an astonishing wave of successes. He had seen the Scottish cause revive from near-collapse, had driven Edward II's armies from Scotland, been acknowledged as king by the Papacy and most other states, save England, had revived the Auld Alliance with the Treaty of Corbeil[1], and perhaps most satisfying, had seen his excommunication and the interdict of Scotland lifted[2]. Three things marred this--the horrific disease that was killing him[3], the ongoing war with England, presently only paused by a truce[4], and the extreme youth of his heir, John, the only surviving boy of twins[5]. Each of these problems by itself would have proven a threat. Together, they would nearly lead to the undoing of all of Robert's hard work.
"Robert watched the growing chaos in England with a hungry eye, for he thought he perceived a chance to bring Edward to the table and finally force a formal recognition of the Scottish Kingdom[6]. Troops were even gathered at the border, when Robert's ailment flared up and sent the entire plan to the wayside. As it became obvious that this attack would likely prove fatal, Robert threw his remaining energies into ensuring his son would see a clean transfer of power. His longtime supporter and nephew, Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray would be named Guardian of Scotland, an able prop for his young son[7]. With his legacy in this world as secure as he could make it, Robert went to work on the next, giving various legacies to religious houses to pray for his soul, most notably for his failure to take up the cross and fight the Saracen. Indeed, Robert made a special bequest on this matter--his heart was to be removed and taken on an armed pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, following which it would be interred in Melrose Abbey. Alas, for Robert, the projected Crusade in the Holy Land never materialized, and so his heart would have to settle for being taken along a Castilian expedition against Granada.[8] And so it was in 1329, on the 5th of June, Robert the Bruce passed away.
"Young John would be proclaimed King of Scots immediately on his father's death, though his coronation at Scone would wait until late in 1331. A debate arose on whether his regnal name should be changed[9], but ultimately it was decided that "the second John shall make up for the first" and so he became John II of Scotland. Alas for the young monarch, enemies were already gathering. And, most worryingly of all, they were not all English."
--From Crowned Upon the Stone; the Story of Scotland, by Gyth Gythson (1998)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] Signed OTL and TTL in 1326.
[2] This occurred in 1328, though papal recognition was a sign that it was on its way.
[3] Commonly reported as leprosy, though in truth, it is something of a mystery.
[4] IOTL, he would die with a treaty with England. That Edward III would proceed to tear up and stomp on.
[5] IOTL, John died, and his brother David lived.
[6] IOTL, he took the chance of Isabella's invasion to do just that. One embarrassing campaign later, and the Mortimer government was signing a treaty. Despite having criticized Edward II for his handling of Scotland.
[7] Guardian of Scotland was the official title for a Regent. Moray was indeed named to the post at Robert's death IOTL as well.
[8] This is all OTL. Even the campaign in Granada.
[9] A similar debate IOTL saw Robert II Stewart's eldest son change his name from "John" to "Robert"
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Hey, could you imagine if they'd gotten to Jerusalem as originally planned?
To be fair, they "aren't recognized" in the same manner that China and Taiwan refuse to admit they're two separate states.
But yeah. It's not a nice place to be.
Well, the last few years were good, but let's be honest--he spent most of his reign out of Scotland. Frequently in England.
Well, glad everyone liked hearing about Scotland--which is going to become very important, very soon.
Now, back to England, following which we return to France where we will discover just how badly a medieval lawsuit can run amok.
Now, back to England, following which we return to France where we will discover just how badly a medieval lawsuit can run amok.
1329-30: England and France
1329-30: THE PANTHER'S GRANDSON
"In early May of 1329, the besieged Charletons, who had presumed too much that they were riding an ascending wave, surrendered at Powis Castle. They followed the Baron La Zouche of Mortimer[1], who had turned over his kinsman for a pardon after some almost summary resistance. This was the end of the last tattered remnants of what later generations would call the Earl of Kent's Rising. Ironically, Edmund of Kent was among the first to surrender, begging his nephew for forgiveness even before the Prince had arrived in London, an act he would formally repeat before Parliament. Other men would not be so lucky--the Bishop of Worcester would be captured along the road to Canterbury, where he had planned to beg for sanctuary, while Hugh de Audley was stabbed to death in Hastings, reportedly by a former manservant of Hugh the Younger's.
"The men they had persecuted did not on the whole fare much better. While the Fitzalans would be there at Powis, leading troops against the Charletons who had lead troops against them earlier, the Earl of Winchester came out of the Tower a shattered man--he would die before the year was out. His eldest grandson and successor would recover in time, but it is clear that the young man was badly scarred by his ordeal, largely ceding political leadership of his sizable clan to his younger brother Gilbert. There were, on both sides, countless cases like this, men and women who had suffered for one cause or the other, and ultimately lost heavily. The true victors were those men like Thomas of Norfolk and Henry of Lancaster who had quietly positioned themselves outside the struggle, hedging their bets and enjoying the substantial winnings in the political situation that came about after.
"For much changed, in the aftermath, even if it did not officially. The barons had showed their power by not acting far better than they ever had by acting, and now there were those close to the throne who realized that. Gilbert Despenser reportedly told Prince Edward as they sailed towards the Prince's father-in-law that if he did not claim his inheritance soon, 'another would claim it for himself, and he would not be a friends to either of us.' If he did say this, he doubtless echoed what the Prince was thinking. And so, after landing, the Prince sent out feelers to the great men who, if they had not quite sided with Mortimer, had been willing to listen to him. Deals were made; promises were given; arrangements were prepared. And so, when Parliament met to deal with the outcome of the late rebellion, much of what happened was a stage-managed performance to publicly cement what had been privately determined.
"It began with King Edward's speech to the Lords, where he acknowledged that he had made many errors and had been grievously misled by 'flatterers'. The king's actions in the dying days of the rebellion remain mysterious--he may have been intentionally isolated by his son, or he may have simply been in the middle of a psychic collapse, and thus incapable of responding to the political changes going on around him. What is certain that by the time of his speech, Edward had been informed of the coming new order, and he appears to have accepted it. While much of the speech appears to have been empty platitudes, in its ending, Edward declared his son Great Steward of England[2], essentially granting the rule of the kingdom to the Prince of Wales. With this done, the Prince came forth and delivered the sentences on the rebels.
"Only a few of those who'd rebelled, most of whom had joined early and stayed well to the end, suffered significant losses--for the rest it was simply the loss of some property, coupled frequently with a fine. The Charletons and the Mortimers were the families most significantly impacted, and of the pair, the Charletons would eventually recover. The Mortimers however, were ruined in England--while the family would regain some of what they had lost, the future for the clan lay across a narrow sea in Ireland. Roger Mortimer would not be among them--that tumultuous man would be executed for treason. The only reasons the Bishops of Worcester and Hereford did not join him immediately is that the Prince felt obligated to discuss the matter with the Pope. He rather shortly defrocked the pair and excommunicated Orleton to boot, who would go to his grave outside the Church[3]. Pope John may not have been a great friend of the English, but there were lines he did not like seeing bishops stepping over--at least, if they failed afterwards....
"Indeed, what is most remarkable about the Prince's quiet coup is how little it was remarked on by outsiders. Even Edward II's father-in-law, the Emperor Louis seems to have adjusted swiftly to the new status quo. While later commentators would speak of it as "a wonder" for most, the King's long-standing history of incompetence seems to have convinced most that what had occurred was simply inevitable. ...Among the Prince's new regime's first problems was the open sore of Gascony. For all that his monarchical brother-in-law would later accuse him of lackness, Philp of Valois had responded to Ingham's campaign by sending his brother the Count of Alencon to the region with troops. There, Alencon had marched with his force into the Agenais, engaging the English forces in a game of cat and mouse and expelling the new garrisons where he found them[4]. A new war between England and France seemed on the verge of breaking out. What kept it was the simple fact that neither party was truly in a position pursue it. Edward had a new government to cement into place, while Philip was dealing with the beginnings of the reemergent Artois feud that would come to dominate Frankish politics for a decade (and in truth, far longer)[5]. Further he had, like his father before him, been bitten by the crusading bug, a desire that required a quiet England to fulfill.
"Despite this the negotiations dragged for quite some time, as both parties hid behind excuses and attacked the other. Philip, who had seemed so dismissive of the Prince's disrespectful homage now declared that it threatened his continued status as Duke of Gascony--the Prince of Wales disparaged portions of the treaty, claiming they were illicit, and swore that his troops had merely been dealing with bandits. Ultimately, a quiet arrangement was made that left England with its gains in Saintoge by paying a modest fee, while leaving the rest of Gascony in French hands[6]. The resulting arrangement was something neither side wished to draw attention to--and plenty would occur to keep their respective peoples distracted. For now, Prince Edward arrived again in France to pay a more formal homage, and enjoyed himself with a brisk tournament in honor of King John's reaching his majority. The Prince would be the tourney's ultimate victor[7]."
--From This Terrible Majesty (Vol. 1): Prince and Steward by Augusta Lyme (1978)
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[1] IOTL, the Baron would marry Hugh Despenser the Younger's widow by abducting her. This is not the last time I'll be writing something like this, by the way.
[2] IOTL, the Earl of Lancaster got this office of state after Isabella's invasion. He kept it after Isabella's government fell.
[3] This is a significantly nastier death then the man received OTL, but then failing at revolutions is never good for your health.
[4] IOTL, Alencon was sent to the region after Edward's coup removed Mortimer's government, and captured Saintes.
[5] More on this in our next installment.
[6] This is slightly better for England than OTL. But only slightly--Gascony has lost a lot of territory and is much harder to defend.
[7] Interestingly, Edward likewise was a victor at a tournament held after his second homage to Philip VI IOTL. He really was quite good at them.
"In early May of 1329, the besieged Charletons, who had presumed too much that they were riding an ascending wave, surrendered at Powis Castle. They followed the Baron La Zouche of Mortimer[1], who had turned over his kinsman for a pardon after some almost summary resistance. This was the end of the last tattered remnants of what later generations would call the Earl of Kent's Rising. Ironically, Edmund of Kent was among the first to surrender, begging his nephew for forgiveness even before the Prince had arrived in London, an act he would formally repeat before Parliament. Other men would not be so lucky--the Bishop of Worcester would be captured along the road to Canterbury, where he had planned to beg for sanctuary, while Hugh de Audley was stabbed to death in Hastings, reportedly by a former manservant of Hugh the Younger's.
"The men they had persecuted did not on the whole fare much better. While the Fitzalans would be there at Powis, leading troops against the Charletons who had lead troops against them earlier, the Earl of Winchester came out of the Tower a shattered man--he would die before the year was out. His eldest grandson and successor would recover in time, but it is clear that the young man was badly scarred by his ordeal, largely ceding political leadership of his sizable clan to his younger brother Gilbert. There were, on both sides, countless cases like this, men and women who had suffered for one cause or the other, and ultimately lost heavily. The true victors were those men like Thomas of Norfolk and Henry of Lancaster who had quietly positioned themselves outside the struggle, hedging their bets and enjoying the substantial winnings in the political situation that came about after.
"For much changed, in the aftermath, even if it did not officially. The barons had showed their power by not acting far better than they ever had by acting, and now there were those close to the throne who realized that. Gilbert Despenser reportedly told Prince Edward as they sailed towards the Prince's father-in-law that if he did not claim his inheritance soon, 'another would claim it for himself, and he would not be a friends to either of us.' If he did say this, he doubtless echoed what the Prince was thinking. And so, after landing, the Prince sent out feelers to the great men who, if they had not quite sided with Mortimer, had been willing to listen to him. Deals were made; promises were given; arrangements were prepared. And so, when Parliament met to deal with the outcome of the late rebellion, much of what happened was a stage-managed performance to publicly cement what had been privately determined.
"It began with King Edward's speech to the Lords, where he acknowledged that he had made many errors and had been grievously misled by 'flatterers'. The king's actions in the dying days of the rebellion remain mysterious--he may have been intentionally isolated by his son, or he may have simply been in the middle of a psychic collapse, and thus incapable of responding to the political changes going on around him. What is certain that by the time of his speech, Edward had been informed of the coming new order, and he appears to have accepted it. While much of the speech appears to have been empty platitudes, in its ending, Edward declared his son Great Steward of England[2], essentially granting the rule of the kingdom to the Prince of Wales. With this done, the Prince came forth and delivered the sentences on the rebels.
"Only a few of those who'd rebelled, most of whom had joined early and stayed well to the end, suffered significant losses--for the rest it was simply the loss of some property, coupled frequently with a fine. The Charletons and the Mortimers were the families most significantly impacted, and of the pair, the Charletons would eventually recover. The Mortimers however, were ruined in England--while the family would regain some of what they had lost, the future for the clan lay across a narrow sea in Ireland. Roger Mortimer would not be among them--that tumultuous man would be executed for treason. The only reasons the Bishops of Worcester and Hereford did not join him immediately is that the Prince felt obligated to discuss the matter with the Pope. He rather shortly defrocked the pair and excommunicated Orleton to boot, who would go to his grave outside the Church[3]. Pope John may not have been a great friend of the English, but there were lines he did not like seeing bishops stepping over--at least, if they failed afterwards....
"Indeed, what is most remarkable about the Prince's quiet coup is how little it was remarked on by outsiders. Even Edward II's father-in-law, the Emperor Louis seems to have adjusted swiftly to the new status quo. While later commentators would speak of it as "a wonder" for most, the King's long-standing history of incompetence seems to have convinced most that what had occurred was simply inevitable. ...Among the Prince's new regime's first problems was the open sore of Gascony. For all that his monarchical brother-in-law would later accuse him of lackness, Philp of Valois had responded to Ingham's campaign by sending his brother the Count of Alencon to the region with troops. There, Alencon had marched with his force into the Agenais, engaging the English forces in a game of cat and mouse and expelling the new garrisons where he found them[4]. A new war between England and France seemed on the verge of breaking out. What kept it was the simple fact that neither party was truly in a position pursue it. Edward had a new government to cement into place, while Philip was dealing with the beginnings of the reemergent Artois feud that would come to dominate Frankish politics for a decade (and in truth, far longer)[5]. Further he had, like his father before him, been bitten by the crusading bug, a desire that required a quiet England to fulfill.
"Despite this the negotiations dragged for quite some time, as both parties hid behind excuses and attacked the other. Philip, who had seemed so dismissive of the Prince's disrespectful homage now declared that it threatened his continued status as Duke of Gascony--the Prince of Wales disparaged portions of the treaty, claiming they were illicit, and swore that his troops had merely been dealing with bandits. Ultimately, a quiet arrangement was made that left England with its gains in Saintoge by paying a modest fee, while leaving the rest of Gascony in French hands[6]. The resulting arrangement was something neither side wished to draw attention to--and plenty would occur to keep their respective peoples distracted. For now, Prince Edward arrived again in France to pay a more formal homage, and enjoyed himself with a brisk tournament in honor of King John's reaching his majority. The Prince would be the tourney's ultimate victor[7]."
--From This Terrible Majesty (Vol. 1): Prince and Steward by Augusta Lyme (1978)
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[1] IOTL, the Baron would marry Hugh Despenser the Younger's widow by abducting her. This is not the last time I'll be writing something like this, by the way.
[2] IOTL, the Earl of Lancaster got this office of state after Isabella's invasion. He kept it after Isabella's government fell.
[3] This is a significantly nastier death then the man received OTL, but then failing at revolutions is never good for your health.
[4] IOTL, Alencon was sent to the region after Edward's coup removed Mortimer's government, and captured Saintes.
[5] More on this in our next installment.
[6] This is slightly better for England than OTL. But only slightly--Gascony has lost a lot of territory and is much harder to defend.
[7] Interestingly, Edward likewise was a victor at a tournament held after his second homage to Philip VI IOTL. He really was quite good at them.
Correct. And like his grandson ITTL, he essentially pushed his ineffectual father out of power.
Presumably Edward II is likely to have a longer lasting retirement ITTL than was the case OTL. His son would I think be quite satisfied with running the country without being king at least for a while. I do wonder how John took Prince Edward winning the tourney. The two seem to be developing something of a rivalry. It should be interesting to see how that develops as the young men grow older.
1328-30: France
1328-30: A VERY LONG INHERITANCE SUIT
"The sudden death of Clementia of Hungary[1] is often cited as a turning point in the early Johanine monarchy, and it is tempting to see it so. After all, what young man would not be profoundly affected by the death of his mother? And yet we are in fact trapped here by the conventions of medieval histories--children, even kings, seem to rarely attract the notice of those chroniclers, and so we see much of their activity through a veil. John rarely rates a mention in much of the contemporary references, save as little more than a glorified prop of the French court. And John himself, that man who made so free with his confidences and opinions as to actually serve as a source of embarrassment in later generations, seems to have been utterly conventional in this manner--he speaks little of his childhood, and then always in vague generalities and platitudes.
"His mother likewise labors under this cloud--nothing John says of her gives any hint of a genuine emotional attachment, or for that matter, even an opinion. We must judge by his actions, and again, little we see here is exceptional. Clementia was extravagantly mourned, as demanded by convention, and either the King or the Regent. In later years, John regularly had masses held for her, frequently in extravagant amounts, which would be noteworthy if not for his habit of doing likewise for most of his other departed friends and relations. The only noteworthy thing we can eke out is his mother's famous bequest of her jewels to him[2] on the condition that they never be given to John's wife, something the accounts of the court tells us the king went along with. Much has been written about this, most of it speculation, and much of that foolish. We do not know if Clementia's reasons for this were personal, political, both, or neither, and as for John, he seems to have thought little enough about the affair as to have never mentioned it, leaving us to speculate as to his motives as well...
"...If a turning point was reached in these years, it was due to the simple fact that John was becoming a young man, and thus increasingly playing a personal role in royal affairs. This was to be seen prior to Clementia's death, in the end of the Flemming matter, and the Prince of Wales' homage, and hints of it in the early stages of one of the great affairs of John's reign, the so-called Artois feud.
"The origins of the feud--or at least, the proximate trouble that so many other personal squabbles would attach themselves to--lay in a somewhat irregular inheritance. When Robert II, Count of Artois, died in 1302, he left a young grandson the future Robert III, the only male offspring of his late son. He also left a daughter, Mahaut, who swiftly claimed the County on the basis of proximity of blood[3]. As a child, Robert's ability to contest this was limited--as a grown man, it would be limitless. For most of his adult life, Robert would scheme, plot, and occasionally fight to regain what he saw as his proper inheritance, frequently with an enthusiasm that outpaced his competence. Robert would suffer during the Count of Poitiers' regency, and flourish during the regencies of both Counts of Valois, having married one of Charles' daughters and tied himself to that sizable clan. But despite his hopes, both Charles and Philip never put themselves wholly behind him in the matter. After all, Robert may have been Philip's brother-in-law, but so was Eudes, Duke of Burgundy--and Eudes' case, it was because his sister was Philip's beloved wife. And so first Charles and then Philip managed to placate both sides with vague promises, and the occasional gift and favor.
"The situation could not maintain itself indefinitely. By 1328, Mahaut was no longer the formidable countess she had been, but a dying old woman. Robert's pressing for another look into the inheritance succeeded in bringing the estate under royal custody until the matter was settled. The death of Mahaut followed swiftly by that of her only surviving child and heir, Joan, Countess-Dowager of Poitiers and Countess-Palatine of Burgundy left the inheritance between Robert, and the young Philip, Count of Poitiers, the King's cousin, and by most reckonings, his heir[4]..."
--John I of France, Vol. 1; A King in His Cradle, Antony Oates (1978)
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[1] Clementia died at this point IOTL as well.
[2] Louis gave Clementia an enormous amount of jewels during their marriage, something we know thanks to the incredibly detailed inventory of them that was made after her death.
[3] The Artois case is a good example of the various quirks of medieval inheritance.
[4] Mahaut and Joan died within a year of each other IOTL as well, though there, Joan's heir was her eldest daughter, Joan, Duchess of Burgundy.
"The sudden death of Clementia of Hungary[1] is often cited as a turning point in the early Johanine monarchy, and it is tempting to see it so. After all, what young man would not be profoundly affected by the death of his mother? And yet we are in fact trapped here by the conventions of medieval histories--children, even kings, seem to rarely attract the notice of those chroniclers, and so we see much of their activity through a veil. John rarely rates a mention in much of the contemporary references, save as little more than a glorified prop of the French court. And John himself, that man who made so free with his confidences and opinions as to actually serve as a source of embarrassment in later generations, seems to have been utterly conventional in this manner--he speaks little of his childhood, and then always in vague generalities and platitudes.
"His mother likewise labors under this cloud--nothing John says of her gives any hint of a genuine emotional attachment, or for that matter, even an opinion. We must judge by his actions, and again, little we see here is exceptional. Clementia was extravagantly mourned, as demanded by convention, and either the King or the Regent. In later years, John regularly had masses held for her, frequently in extravagant amounts, which would be noteworthy if not for his habit of doing likewise for most of his other departed friends and relations. The only noteworthy thing we can eke out is his mother's famous bequest of her jewels to him[2] on the condition that they never be given to John's wife, something the accounts of the court tells us the king went along with. Much has been written about this, most of it speculation, and much of that foolish. We do not know if Clementia's reasons for this were personal, political, both, or neither, and as for John, he seems to have thought little enough about the affair as to have never mentioned it, leaving us to speculate as to his motives as well...
"...If a turning point was reached in these years, it was due to the simple fact that John was becoming a young man, and thus increasingly playing a personal role in royal affairs. This was to be seen prior to Clementia's death, in the end of the Flemming matter, and the Prince of Wales' homage, and hints of it in the early stages of one of the great affairs of John's reign, the so-called Artois feud.
"The origins of the feud--or at least, the proximate trouble that so many other personal squabbles would attach themselves to--lay in a somewhat irregular inheritance. When Robert II, Count of Artois, died in 1302, he left a young grandson the future Robert III, the only male offspring of his late son. He also left a daughter, Mahaut, who swiftly claimed the County on the basis of proximity of blood[3]. As a child, Robert's ability to contest this was limited--as a grown man, it would be limitless. For most of his adult life, Robert would scheme, plot, and occasionally fight to regain what he saw as his proper inheritance, frequently with an enthusiasm that outpaced his competence. Robert would suffer during the Count of Poitiers' regency, and flourish during the regencies of both Counts of Valois, having married one of Charles' daughters and tied himself to that sizable clan. But despite his hopes, both Charles and Philip never put themselves wholly behind him in the matter. After all, Robert may have been Philip's brother-in-law, but so was Eudes, Duke of Burgundy--and Eudes' case, it was because his sister was Philip's beloved wife. And so first Charles and then Philip managed to placate both sides with vague promises, and the occasional gift and favor.
"The situation could not maintain itself indefinitely. By 1328, Mahaut was no longer the formidable countess she had been, but a dying old woman. Robert's pressing for another look into the inheritance succeeded in bringing the estate under royal custody until the matter was settled. The death of Mahaut followed swiftly by that of her only surviving child and heir, Joan, Countess-Dowager of Poitiers and Countess-Palatine of Burgundy left the inheritance between Robert, and the young Philip, Count of Poitiers, the King's cousin, and by most reckonings, his heir[4]..."
--John I of France, Vol. 1; A King in His Cradle, Antony Oates (1978)
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[1] Clementia died at this point IOTL as well.
[2] Louis gave Clementia an enormous amount of jewels during their marriage, something we know thanks to the incredibly detailed inventory of them that was made after her death.
[3] The Artois case is a good example of the various quirks of medieval inheritance.
[4] Mahaut and Joan died within a year of each other IOTL as well, though there, Joan's heir was her eldest daughter, Joan, Duchess of Burgundy.
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