being
condemned by the court of peers to banishment and the confiscation of
his property. He fled for refuge first to Brabant, and then to England,
to the court of Edward III., who received him graciously, and whom he
forthwith commenced inciting to claim the crown of France, "his
inheritance," as he said, "which King Philip holds most wrongfully."
Edward III., who was naturally prudent, and had been involved, almost
ever since his accession, in a stubborn war with Scotland, cared but
little for rushing into a fresh and far more serious enterprise. But of
all human passions hatred is perhaps the most determined in the
prosecution of its designs. Robert accompanied the King of England in
his campaigns northward; and "Sir," said he, whilst they were marching
together over the heaths of Scotland, "leave this poor country, and give
your thoughts to the noble crown of France." When Edward, on returning
to London, was self-complacently rejoicing at his successes over his
neighbors, Robert took pains to pique his self-respect, by expressing
astonishment that he did not seek more practical and more brilliant
successes. Poetry sometimes reveals sentiments and processes about which
history is silent. We read in a poem of the fourteenth century, entitled
The vow on the heron, "In the season when summer is verging upon its
decline, and the gay birds are forgetting their sweet converse on the
trees, now despoiled of their verdure, Robert seeks for consolation in
the pleasures of fowling, for he cannot forget the gentle land of France,
the glorious country whence he is an exile. He carries a falcon, which
goes flying over the waters till a heron falls its prey; then he calls
two young damsels to take the bird to the king's palace, singing the
while in sweet discourse: 'Fly, fly, ye honorless knights; give place to
gallants on whom love smiles; here is the dish for gallants who are
faithful to their mistresses. The heron is the most timid of birds, for
it fears its own shadow; it is for the heron to receive the vows of King
Edward, who, though lawful King of France, dares not claim that noble
heritage.' At these words the king flushed, his heart was wroth, and he
cried aloud, 'Since coward is thrown in my teeth, I make vow [on this
heron] to the God of Paradise that ere a single year rolls by I will defy
the King of Paris.' Count Robert hears and smiles; and low to his own
heart he says, 'Now have I won: and my heron will caus