CHAPTER V. THE OPENING OF THE HUNDRED YEARS’ WAR

Great enterprises and deeds of arms were achieved in these wars; since the time of good Charlemagne, king of France, never were such feats performed.--FROISSART.[e]

[Sidenote: [1328-1350 A.D.]]

Although France was little prepared for a great national war, a king mounted its throne who was almost certain to provoke one. The princes of the family of Valois had always represented the ideas and the interests of the noblesse during the preceding reigns, when reasons of state, maxims of law, and necessities of finance had led the government to look to other councillors and undergo other influence. With the accession of Philip of Valois, the noblesse recovered that ascendency of which they had been so long deprived. And this influence they displayed with a petulance and a pride which could not but provoke what they most loved, a war.

“Charles the Fair having expired, the barons assembled to take into consideration the government of the kingdom. The queen was pregnant, and until the sex of her issue was known, the title of king could not be assumed. The only question was to whom, as nearest in blood, the government of the kingdom should be committed, especially as in France a female could not succeed to the crown. The English said that their king, the son of Philip the Fair’s daughter, and consequently nephew of the late monarch, was, as nearest of kin, more entitled to the regency and to the throne, if the queen did not bring forth a prince, than Philip of Valois, who was but the cousin of the deceased monarch. Many learned in the civil and canon law were of this opinion. Isabella, the daughter of Philip the Fair, might, they alleged, be set aside on account of her sex; but one of the right sex, and of the nearest affinity, ought to succeed. The men of France, incapable of suffering the idea of becoming subjects of an English prince, replied, that Edward could only succeed by the right of his mother; and when the mother had no right, the son could have none. This opinion being accepted as the most sensible, was approved by the barons, and the government delivered to Philip of Valois. He accordingly received the homage due to the crown of France, but not that due to the crown of Navarre, which the count of Évreux claimed by right of his wife, daughter of Louis Hutin.”

[Sidenote: [1328-1330 A.D.]]

This narrative, by the continuator of Nangis,[c] is sufficiently correct. Navarre was given to the count of Évreux, he consenting to receive pecuniary compensation for the counties of Champagne and Brie. In April the queen was confined of a daughter; Philip instantly assumed the title of king, and gave orders for his coronation at Rheims. At the same time, by a letter dated Northampton, the 16th day of May, 1328, Edward appointed two bishops as procurators to make good his claim to the kingdom of France. At the close of the same month Philip was solemnly crowned at Rheims.

[Illustration: PHILIP VI

(From an old French print)]

The first act of the new king as regent seems to have been to order the treasurer of the late monarch, Peter Remi, to be tortured--thus compelled to confess treason, and finally hanged. He also summoned his barons to support him in a military expedition into Flanders. Count Louis was obstructed in his government, and especially in his levy of taxes, by the people of Bruges, Ypres, and other cities; those of Ghent alone remaining true to him and to France. Louis demanded aid of Philip. The greater part of the barons were of opinion that the season was too far advanced to admit of an expedition that year; but Philip, anxious to signalise his reign, turned to the constable, Walter de Châtillon, and asked his advice. “The brave heart finds all times opportune for fighting,” replied the constable. The king accordingly summoned his lieges to meet him at the feast of the Madeleine in July, at Arras. “But the good towns,” says the chronicle of St. Denis,[h] “did not attend, giving their money instead, and staying at home to mind their cities.”

The king’s army was most numerous, divided into ten divisions or battles, the nobles from every quarter hastening to evince their loyalty by attending the first summons of a new and chivalrous king. The citizens of West Flanders alone mustered to oppose the French, and not more than twelve thousand of them, according to Froissart, took post under Colas Zannequin on the hill of Cassel. They were confident, however, and hung out a flag with a cock painted on it, and an inscription saying, that this cock would crow, ere the upstart king, the _roi trouvé_, would find his way into Cassel.

The Flemings remained tranquil for several days, with the French encamped before them. At last at the hour of vespers when the latter were preparing supper, the Flemings marched out in three bodies, fell upon them, and penetrated into their camp. Philip, like his namesake at Mons-en-Pévêlle, was obliged to withdraw, and it was his chaplains who helped him to put on his armour. When the king showed himself with the _oriflamme_, the knights rallied round him from all quarters, the foot, who were more numerous, continuing their flight. The Flemings had failed in mastering as well as surprising Philip’s camp, and now assailed by the French cavalry (having none of their own), they stood firm and fought for a long time a defensive battle. At last a charge made a breach in their solid phalanx, the French knights poured in, and the Flemings were routed and slaughtered. One of the divisions regained the hill of Cassel, but all alike perished. The king estimated the loss of his enemies at twenty thousand.

He entered the several towns one after the other in triumph, took a thousand citizens of Bruges as hostages, tore down the bells, levelled the walls, and proscribed municipal liberties. When Philip delivered the county of Flanders, thus humbled and mutilated, to its lord, he addressed him, as the continuator of Nangis[c] records, in the following words: “Count, I come hither at your request, and in all probability because you were too negligent in executing justice. I could not have come, as you know, without great expense; yet, out of my liberality, I restore you your land quiet and pacified, and I forgive you the expense. But another time take care. Let me not be obliged to return by your over-clemency, for if I do, it shall be for my own profit.”

Thus exhorted, adds the chronicler, Count Louis so exerted himself that, within three months, he had put ten thousand persons to various kinds of death. In this manner was signalised the triumph of the French noblesse over the citizens of West Flanders.

[Sidenote: [1328-1335 A.D.]]

Meantime, in England, affairs were somewhat unsettled. Edward III cannot be considered to have undertaken the government of that country until the death of Mortimer and the imprisonment of the queen-mother in October, 1330. In the first year after Philip’s accession, Isabella seemed inclined to dispute his title, and steps were taken to conclude alliances against France. But the success of Philip in the Flemish war, and the hostile attitude of the English barons, as well as the discontent of the English people with the concessions made to Scotland, precluded the idea of prosecuting the quarrel with France.

Edward, therefore, at his mother’s bidding, proceeded to Amiens in the spring of 1329, and did homage to Philip, maintaining his rights to those portions of his possessions in the south of France which the French king still retained. But this act of submission led to disputes, one monarch pretending that it was homage simple, the other that it was homage _liège_. Philip thought the opportunity favourable for invading Guienne, the power of Isabella and Mortimer being paralysed by their many enemies. The king levied an _aide_ upon his barons for the expedition. So far had these hostile intentions proceeded, that the count of Alençon, Philip’s brother, attacked the English in Saintonge, and took and burned the castle of Saintes. On the death of Mortimer, however, and the assumption of full power by Edward, Philip returned to more amicable sentiments, and promised to make amends for the affair of Saintes, as well as for several other grievances. The monarchs seemed to be on the most friendly terms; they spoke of proceeding to the Holy Land together, and even of contracting a marriage between their children.

The subsequent coolness and enmity between them is universally, and apparently with justice, attributed to the malice of Robert of Artois, who for some years had been a pretender to the lordship of that county. Robert had undoubtedly been wronged in the judgment which took Artois from him, the direct heir, and gave it to a female and a collateral, merely because she was more closely allied to the reigning king of France. When Robert asserted his rights in arms, Philip the Tall was unable to reduce him; and if Robert submitted, and even constituted himself a prisoner, it was on the understanding that the unjust sentence against him should be revoked, and the county restored to him. On this understanding, Robert married the daughter of Charles of Valois.

Nevertheless Philip the Tall and Charles the Fair evaded the demands and expectations of Robert, who reckoned on having his rights at last from his brother-in-law, Philip of Valois. Robert accordingly served the crown with zeal, and was one of the principal supporters of this prince’s claims to the throne. “Thus, on Philip’s accession, Robert became everything in France,” says Froissart.[e] There having been two sentences of the court of parliament against Robert’s claim, it was difficult to rescind them, at least without some new plea, some yet unproduced documents in his favour. Such, probably, was the remark with which Philip and his law officers met the demands of Robert.

If a document existed likely to prove favourable for his claim, it must have fallen into the hands of those who had robbed him of the county. The countess Mahaut, to whom Philip the Fair had adjudged Artois, died soon after the accession of Philip of Valois. Her chief counsellor and confidant had been the bishop of Arras. He also dying, left voluminous papers, some of which had been secreted and carried off from Arras by a woman named Divion, mistress of the prelate. The countess lived long enough to endeavour, by law or vengeance, to get back the papers from Divion.

Aware of these circumstances, Joan, the countess of Artois, set to work and procured from this woman, or caused to be forged by her, certain documents. One was a letter from the bishop of Arras to Robert of Artois, craving pardon for having purloined the documents. Another was a charter of Robert, count of Artois, the grandfather, settling Artois upon his son, the father of Robert. Michelet[f] declares the documents, which still exist, to be forgeries. Robert of Artois boldly produced them, claimed by virtue of them to be restored to the possession of his county; and, as a proof of what value was men’s testimony in those days, he brought upwards of fifty witnesses in support of his false documents. Had the king been prosecutor, these, no doubt, would have been found authentic enough for the parliament. But Robert of Artois was no friend of the legists, and parliament remained firm to its first decision. The king’s _procureur_ objected to the documents, and Robert, summoned to say whether he would stand by them, hesitated. The woman, Divion, was seized, put to the torture, and acknowledged her forgery. The parliament ordered her to be burned. Robert of Artois being proved so far culpable as to have plotted with her, was accused, moreover, of aiding her to poison the countess Mahaut of Artois. Robert fled to Brabant. The king caused him to be condemned for forgery, and deprived of his estates and honours. His wife, his sons, and relatives were imprisoned, and, the legists accusing him of attempting to murder and to kill the king by sorcery, drove Robert altogether from the continent, and compelled him to take refuge in England. The fugitive was well received by Edward, appointed of his council, and endowed with ample domains.

Philip of Valois knew not what use to make of that absolute power, which the efforts of so many kings had built up. Policy, he evidently had none. He liked the splendour, magnificence, and pride of a court; and, consequently, preferred his noblesse to any other class of society. Still he showed, in the case of Robert of Artois, his determination not to allow any of them to dictate or impose upon him. He consulted his lawyers as in the case of church encroachments, but shrunk from ordinance or legislation in their favour. Abroad, Philip was generally uncertain in purpose.

[Sidenote: [1335-1337 A.D.]]

The monarch’s incertitude was, however, soon relieved. Edward III became more and more irritated at the support which the French and Flemings gave to the Scots: in June, 1335, he issued an order from Newcastle to the Cinque Ports to arm, and intercept a naval expedition fitting out at Calais for Scotland. In February, 1336, an edict appeared ordering all Englishmen, from sixteen to sixty, to be prepared to repel invasion. Still negotiations continued; and it was not till August of the same year that Edward announced to his subjects the refusal of the French king to cease rendering active assistance to the Scottish foe. At the same time the count of Flanders threw off the mask by arresting all the English traders in his dominions, and Edward was obliged to respond to it by a similar act.

The following year was spent by both monarchs in preparing alliances, and by Edward in making the most active and unusual preparations for war. Philip hired large bodies of Germans, both men-at-arms and light troops. By marrying the heiress of the duke of Brittany to one of his relatives, he hoped to have secured the allegiance of that prince and family; but Philip’s attention was chiefly turned towards the south and the conquest of Guienne, for which enterprise he had the succour of the nobles of the Pyrenees as well as of Languedoc. He seemed not to expect to be seriously attacked on the side of Flanders.

Yet it was in that direction that Edward principally turned his efforts, spending the year 1337 in negotiations with the princes whose territories extended from Antwerp to Cologne. The English king had married the daughter of the count of Hainault, who was the first that he gained, or hoped to have gained; the duke of Brabant, the duke of Gelderland, and the archbishop of Cologne also listened to Edward’s proposals, and willingly received his subsidies. They might bring into the field a thousand knights. But Edward pushed his quest for allies still further: he engaged the duke of Austria to invade Burgundy, he concluded an agreement with the count palatine for a subsidiary force, and even obtained a promise from the emperor Ludwig of Bavaria that he would aid in the war against France with an army of two thousand knights; for this his imperial majesty was to be paid 300,000 florins.

These counts and knights observed to the envoy of Edward that, notwithstanding their own prowess, the Flemish artisans would prove far more potent auxiliaries against France than any number of lordly chivalry. Edward approved of the idea; and the bishop of Lincoln and other envoys proceeded to Ghent, “not sparing their money by the way.” The subjection of Flanders had been caused by the rich citizens of Ghent proving false to the national cause, supported solely by the men of Bruges and West Flanders. This enabled the democracy of Ghent to triumph over them, and to become organised under the lead of a brewer of that city, named Artevelde. The envoys of Edward addressed themselves to this new king or popular sovereign, and were well received by him. He summoned consuls or deputies from the other towns, and these soon came to an accord that trade should be carried on as usual, and wool imported from England, notwithstanding the prohibitions of France and the count of Flanders.

To Edward wool was at once money and alliance. Whilst the working and manufacturing class of Flemings thus profited by the English, the chiefs and Artevelde himself received money for the occasion. Still, however easy to win over the Flemings to neutrality, it was difficult to induce them to enter upon active war with France. The French, however, and the Flemish aristocracy did all in their power to provoke the civic democracy; they enticed from Ghent almost the only personage of birth who favoured the popular party, and had entertained the envoys of Edward. This was a knight of Courtrai, father-in-law of Artevelde; when he fell into their hands, they decapitated him, to the great irritation of the men of Ghent. The Flemish knights, in order to intercept the frequent communication and envoys passing between England and the Low Countries, took possession of the isle of Cadsand, close to Walcheren, and lying in wait there for the English, obliged them in going or in returning home, to take the route of Dordrecht, instead of sailing direct from Antwerp. Edward no sooner learned this, than he fitted out an expedition in the Thames under Lord Derby and Sir Walter Manny, of six hundred knights and two thousand archers. These assailed Cadsand, defeated the Flemish knights, and captured Guy of Flanders, who, after some delay, joined the English party.

EDWARD III CLAIMS THE THRONE OF FRANCE

[Sidenote: [1337-1339 A.D.]]

In October, 1337, Edward took the important step of laying claim to the throne of France by right of his mother, sister of Philip the Fair, and of declaring Philip of Valois, descended from a brother of that monarch, a wrongful usurper. This he announced in letters from Edward, king of France and England, to his allies in the Low Countries; and he at the same time appointed the duke of Brabant his vicar-general in the kingdom of France. The king’s allies received this solemn announcement, but do not seem to have acted upon it; the duke of Brabant, far from assuming the office of vicar-general, on the contrary assured Philip of Valois of his friendship.

In the spring of 1338, Edward embarked for Antwerp with what forces he could muster, hoping to make a brilliant campaign with the princes of the Low Countries. They showed very little alacrity, and though willing to receive large sums, prepared to prove themselves as little hostile to the French king as was consistent with their receiving the money from the English. The emperor, though he had promised to be ready by St. Andrew’s day was too anxious for a reconciliation with the pope to defeat his purpose by aiding in an invasion of France; and Edward was reduced to recommence the task of negotiation.

It was late in 1339 before Edward was joined by his German allies. Some time was passed in solemnly declaring war, and then the English advanced to Cambray, which was garrisoned by French troops. But as it did not belong to the king of France, there was no profit in capturing it; Edward, therefore, pursued his march, against the advice of many of his allies, into France, upon which his relative, the count of Hainault, formally quitted his banner for that of Philip. Edward nevertheless advanced towards St. Quentin, at the head of about forty thousand men. Philip of Valois had mustered an army nearly double in number that of his enemy, there being forty thousand infantry raised by the money of the towns, and twenty thousand more Genoese and Italian foot; three divisions of men-at-arms were each fifteen thousand strong. When the armies were in presence, Edward sent to request the king of France to appoint a day for the battle. Philip eagerly fixed a day, but with all his chivalry, the monarch hesitated. King Robert of Sicily, skilled in the science of astrology, had written to warn the king of France not to engage in combat with the English whilst Edward was with them in person. The French monarch in consequence showed reluctance to engage, and the auxiliaries of both armies took the pretext to separate. Edward’s German allies withdrew, and Philip distributed his men-at-arms amongst the garrisons of the frontier.

[Sidenote: [1339-1340 A.D.]]

It was subsequent to this bootless campaign that Froissart fixes the time of Edward’s assuming habitually the title, and quartering the arms, of king of France with his own. This assumption of the crown of France, which seemed not only drawing the sword, but flinging away the scabbard, was a promise to the Flemings that he would wage the “great war” and chiefly through their means and in behalf of their interests. For this purpose he prepared a great expedition, whilst his Queen Philippa spent the winter at Ghent among the good citizens, in order to encourage and attach them to England. But while Edward won the Flemings, his German allies grew lukewarm. He had learned in the last campaign to mistrust their sincerity: they now offered to make peace with France; but Philip rejected their offer, and sent troops to ravage Hainault.

In 1340, Edward had collected a formidable army on board a navy equally numerous. Philip directed his efforts to intercept this expedition, and to muster a fleet capable of performing so important a service. He took into pay great numbers of Genoese officers and seamen; granted the Normans several boons and privileges to induce them to fit out ships, and with these they surprised and burned Southampton, whilst the English visited Eu with equal severity. But on the other hand, the French captured two of their largest vessels, called the _Christopher_ and _Edouarda_, in a naval engagement that lasted all day, and cost the lives of a thousand men. In June, Edward sailed from the Thames with his army for the Schelde, not expecting, indeed, to fight a naval combat, for there was a number of the ladies of his court on board.[b]

THE BATTLE OF SLUYS OR L’ÉCLUSE

King Edward embarked on the 22nd of June with the élite of the English knights and archers, and went down the Thames towards Sluys. The French fleet, 140 strong in large ships, “without counting the smaller ones,” and carrying more than forty thousand men, awaited them between Blankenberghe and Sluys. This naval army, under the command of Admiral Hugh Quiéret, the treasurer Nicholas Béhuchet, and the Ligurian corsair Barbavara, had for two years wrought much damage to English commerce, taking ships, massacring crews, and making descents on Plymouth, Dover, Southampton, Sandwich, and Rye. England breathed out vengeance, but would not have obtained it if the French fleet had been well commanded. This fleet, thanks to the Genoese auxiliaries, had a great numerical superiority, but the three commanders were at variance.

Béhuchet was a rough bourgeois who had served his naval apprenticeship in the king’s exchequer, and whom Philip had been foolish enough to associate with the admirals; this man actually tried to teach an old sea-dog like “Barbevaire.” Hugh Quiéret, the titular admiral, was hardly more skilful than Béhuchet. They massed the fleet in a narrow creek off the coast of Flanders, as if the great thing for a navy was to choose a “sure and easily defensible” position.

King Edward and his men, who came along with a fair wind, looked and beheld before Sluys so large a number of vessels that the masts seemed like a wood. The king was very much astonished and asked whose they could be. “Sire,” they said, “it is the Norman army kept by the king of France at sea, and which has done you so much damage and burned the good town of Hantonne (Southampton), and conquered the _Christopher_, your large ship, and slain those who manned her.” “Oh,” said the king, “I have wanted to fight them for a long time, and please God and St. George, we will; for of a truth they have caused me so much vexation that I would avenge myself.” After so saying, he wisely and skilfully set out his ships, putting the strongest in front, and giving the best places to his soldiers and archers. And he manœuvred and wheeled about so as to get the wind and sun on the poop. The Normans thought he was tacking about so as to flee, but the leader of the Genoese auxiliaries was not so deceived.

[Illustration: CHÂTEAU OF DIEPPE]

“When ‘Barbevaire’ (Barbavara) saw the English ships approaching, he said to the admiral and Nicholas Béhuchet: ‘My lords, here is the king of England and all his navy coming upon us; if you take my advice you will steer for the open sea, for, if you stay here, while they have sun, wind, and wave in their favour, they will hem you in so closely that you will be helpless and unable to manœuvre.’ To this Nicholas Béhuchet, who understood accounts better than naval warfare, answered, ‘Let him be hanged who goes away, for here we will stay, and take our chance.’ ‘My lord,’ replied Barbevaire, ‘since you will not believe me, I will not stay to be destroyed and I shall get myself and my ships out of this hole’” [St. Denis.[h]] And he went off out of the creek with all his Italian galleys and gave all his care to his own fleet.

Edward immediately attacked and began by boarding the great _Christopher_, the ship taken from him a year ago by the Normans. The crew were seized, killed, or thrown into the sea, while the fight became general all along the haven. “The battle was hard and fierce on both sides, archers and crossbow-men shot stubbornly at one another, while soldiers closed and fought hand to hand. That they might fight at better advantage they had large hooks with iron chains which they threw from one ship to another and attached them together.”

Right bitterly from six in the morning till three in the afternoon did they fight, Béhuchet himself behaving as a true knight, but all the courage in the world could not repair his error. “The French ships were so entangled in their moorings that they were helpless.” Their numbers availed not at all; one after the other they were boarded by the English. Nevertheless the resistance was so fierce that the fate of the day could yet have been changed by the aid of Barbavara, who was manœuvring on the enemy’s flanks, but a considerable reinforcement of Flemings arriving from Bruges and neighbouring districts by the port of Sluys, decided the fate of the French fleet.

“In short, King Edward and his men gained all along the line; the Normans and all the other French were discomfited, dead, or drowned, none escaping, for if they tried to take refuge on land, the Flemings awaited them on the sands.”

The English gave almost no quarter. Hugh Quiéret was, they say, slaughtered in cold blood after he had given himself up. Béhuchet was hanged from the mast of his own ship, “to spite the king of France.” Barbavara managed to make good his retreat and regained the open with his forty Genoese galleys, but the French were exterminated. It has been made out that their loss amounted to thirty thousand men. The English bought their victory dearly, but it was complete. The French navy was annihilated. That 24th of June, 1340, marks the naval début of the Valois dynasty.[d]

This first naval battle between the two nations very much raised the confidence of the English and the alacrity of the Flemings. Edward had not only a larger army of his own than in the previous campaign, together with the troops of the German allies, but, in addition, forty thousand Flemings under Artevelde, besides those of West Flanders, who proceeded in the direction of St. Omer. This immense host, instead of marching to meet and overwhelm the French king, sat down before Tournay.

Edward sent from thence a challenge to Philip of Valois, as he styled him, to decide their quarrel by single combat, or by an encounter of a hundred knights on either side. Philip replied, on the last day of July, that such a title could not be addressed to him; that the writer was his liege, and had no right to enter his dominions. He promised to cast the intruder out of the kingdom without loss of time; and that, as to the Flemings, he was confident they would rally to their own lord. Philip marched to the neighbourhood of Tournay with an army as formidable as that which he brought in the preceding year; but neither party were prepared to engage in a general action. The French hesitated to attack, and eleven weeks’ siege made no impression upon Tournay. Robert of Artois, who commanded the armed citizens of West Flanders, led them against St. Omer, not with the hope of capturing that important town, but for purposes of pillage and devastation. The Flemings were thus engaged in plundering one of the suburbs, when the French within, issuing by another gate, came round and surprised them in the rear, routing and slaying them as they fled, to the number of four thousand. This disaster made such an impression on the army of West Flanders, that a panic seized it on the following morning, and all fled and dispersed to their homes.

If the campaign of the preceding year had taught Edward how little was to be expected from the Walloon or the German, he learned this year that even the redoubtable Flemings would not enable him either to conquer France or to reduce Philip to just and reasonable terms. He therefore consented that Joan de Valois, sister of Philip and countess of Hainault, should seek to bring about an accommodation. Her efforts led to a six months’ truce, consented to in order that plenipotentiaries from both monarchs might treat for the conclusion of a more definite peace.[b]

Thus ended the campaign of 1340, “a year of misery and calamity,” says the continuator of Nangis; “although for two or three years past, the common people had been oppressed with very hard exactions, our misfortunes were much greater this time.”[c]

THE WAR IN BRITTANY

[Sidenote: [1340-1342 A.D.]]

The belligerents had scarcely suspended hostilities on the northern frontier of France, when a quarrel arose in another quarter, giving equal facilities for English interference, and offering to Edward more sincere, zealous, and martial allies than the Flemings had proved, whether knights or artisans.[b] It also brought the English king much hope.

In 1341 hostilities were revived in Brittany where the two kings each sustained a different claimant for the ducal throne. The duke John III had just died, leaving no children. Should the duchy fall to the daughter of his eldest brother--whose death had preceded his own--Joan de Penthièvre, who had married Charles of Blois, or to his own younger brother, John de Montfort? The two pretendants set forth the Mosaic law, the edicts of the Roman empire, the Salic law, and tradition; the lawyers piled up innumerable authorities: but politics decided the question.

Charles of Blois was nephew to Philip VI; with him Brittany would be in closer dependence upon the crown. A parliamentary act pronounced at the château of Conflans decided the matter in his favour. John de Montfort hastened to England, and agreed to recognise Edward III as king of France. In view of his promise as vassal loyally to aid and defend the English king, he was to possess Brittany in fief.

Thus began one of those wars--marked by “engagements, sallies, gallant rescues, surprising feats of arms, and brave adventures”--so delightfully depicted by Froissart[e] so grindingly oppressive to the people. Charles of Blois, supported by a numerous French army, among whom was the son of the king, besieged his adversary in the city of Nantes. Thirty Breton knights had been taken in a neighbouring castle. Charles, despite the piety which gained for him the name of “saint,” and Duke John, who was later to glory in the title “the good,” had these thirty knights decapitated and their heads thrown into the market-place by the ballistas. The terrified citizens capitulated; John de Montfort was imprisoned at Paris in the tower of the Louvre.[g]

The countess Joan de Montfort was at Rennes when she heard that her husband had been taken. With a heart full of grief she yet bravely consoled her friends and supporters; and showed them her little son, named also John like his father, saying, “Ah, my friends, be not bowed down for my lord whom we have lost; he is but one man. Behold my son who shall be, if God so wills it, his avenger and your benefactor. I will give you of my wealth and will provide for you a captain who shall bring you consolation.”[e]

She then journeyed from Rennes to all the fortresses and towns, taking her son with her; she encouraged her men, reinforced her garrisons with troops and supplies; and came at length to Hennebon, where she wintered. She had chosen this place, situated as it was on the Blavet, not far from the sea, to have facile communication with England. With the advent of spring, officers and troops swarmed to Nantes to join Charles of Blois; and the siege of Rennes was begun. The city was taken after a valiant defence; and the French marched on Hennebon, which they bombarded with showers of stones and enormous rocks.[16][g]

_Joan de Montfort defends Hennebon_

[Sidenote: [1342 A.D.]]

The countess, who had clothed herself in armour, was mounted on a war-horse, and galloped up and down the streets of the town, entreating and encouraging the inhabitants to defend themselves honourably. She ordered the ladies and other women to unpave the streets,[17] carry the stones to the ramparts, and throw them on their enemies. She had pots of quicklime brought to her for the same purpose. That same day, the countess performed a very gallant deed; she ascended a high tower to see how her people behaved; and, having observed that all the lords and others of the army had quitted their tents, and were come to the assault, she immediately descended, mounted her horse, armed as she was, collected three hundred horsemen, sallied out at their head by another gate that was not attacked, and, galloping up to the tents of her enemies, cut them down, and set them on fire, without any loss, for there were only servants and boys, who fled upon her approach. As soon as the French saw their camp on fire, and heard the cries, they immediately hastened thither, bawling out, “Treason! Treason!” so that none remained at the assault. The countess, seeing this, got her men together, and, finding that she could not re-enter Hennebon without great risk, took another road, leading to the castle of Brest, which is situated near. The lord Louis of Spain, who was marshal of the army, had gone to his tents, which were on fire; and, seeing the countess and her company galloping off as fast as they could, he immediately pursued them with a large body of men-at-arms. He gained so fast upon them, that he came up with them, and wounded or slew all that were not well mounted; but the countess, and part of her company, made such speed that they arrived at the castle of Brest, where they were received with great joy.

On the morrow, the lords of France, who had lost their tents and provisions, took counsel, if they should not make huts of the branches and leaves of trees near to the town, and were thunder-struck when they heard that the countess had herself planned and executed this enterprise; whilst those of the town, not knowing what was become of her, were very uneasy; for they were full five days without gaining any intelligence of her. The countess, in the meanwhile, was so active that she assembled from five to six hundred men, well armed and mounted, and with them set out about midnight from Brest, and came straight to Hennebon about sunrise, riding along one of the sides of the enemy’s host, until she came to the gates of the castle, which were opened to her; she entered with great triumph and sounds of trumpets and other warlike instruments, to the astonishment of the French, who began arming themselves, to make another assault upon the town, while those within mounted the walls to defend it. This attack was very severe, and lasted till past noon. The French lost more than their opponents; and then the lords of France put a stop to it, for their men were killed and wounded to no purpose. They next retreated, and held a council whether the lord Charles should not go to besiege the castle of Auray, which King Arthur had built and enclosed. It was determined he should march thither, accompanied by the duke de Bourbon, the earl of Blois, Sir Robert Bertrand, marshal of France; and that Sir Hervé de Léon was to remain before Hennebon with a part of the Genoese under his command, and the lord Louis of Spain, the viscount de Rohan, with the rest of the Genoese and Spaniards. They sent for twelve large machines which they had left at Rennes, to cast stones and annoy the castle of Hennebon; for they perceived that they did not gain any ground by their assaults. The French divided their army into two parts; one remained before Hennebon, and the other went to besiege the castle of Auray. The lord Charles of Blois went to this last place, and quartered all his division in the neighbourhood: and of him we will now speak, and leave the others. The lord Charles ordered an attack and skirmish to be made upon the castle, which was well garrisoned; there were in it full two hundred men-at-arms, under the command of Sir Henry de Spinefort and Oliver his brother.

[Illustration: ANCIENT TOWER AT ROUEN]

The town of Vannes, which held for the countess de Montfort, was four leagues distant from this castle; the captain whereof was Sir Geoffry de Malestroit. On the other side was situated the good town of Guingamp, of which the captain of Dinant was governor, who was at that time with the countess in the town of Hennebon; but he had left in his hôtel at Dinant his wife and daughters, and had appointed his son Sir Reginald as governor during his absence. Between these two places there was a castle which belonged to the lord Charles, who had well filled it with men-at-arms and Burgundian soldiers. Girard de Maulin was master of it; and with him was another gallant knight, called Sir Peter Portebœuf, who harassed all the country round about, and pressed these two towns so closely that no provisions or merchandise could enter them without great risk of being taken; for these Burgundians made constant excursions, one day towards Vannes, and another day to Guingamp. They continued their excursions so regularly, that Sir Reginald de Dinant took prisoner, by means of an ambuscade, this Sir Girard de Maulin and thirty-five of his men, and at the same time rescued fifteen merchants and all their goods, which the Burgundians had taken, and were driving them to their garrison, called La Roche Perion; but Sir Reginald conquered them and carried them prisoners to Dinant, for which he was much praised.

We will now return to the countess de Montfort, who was besieged by Sir Louis of Spain in Hennebon. He had made such progress by battering and destroying the walls with his machines, that the courage of those within began to falter. At that moment the bishop of Léon held a conference with his nephew Sir Hervé de Léon, by whose means, it has been said, the earl of Montfort was made prisoner. They conversed on different things, in mutual confidence, and at last agreed that the bishop should endeavour to gain over those within the town, so that it might be given up to the lord Charles; and Sir Hervé, on his side, was to obtain their pardon from the lord Charles, and an assurance that they should keep their goods, etc., unhurt. They then separated, and the bishop re-entered the town. The countess had strong suspicions of what was going forward, and begged of the lords of Brittany, for the love of God, that they would not doubt that she should receive succours before three days were over. But the bishop spoke so eloquently, and made use of such good arguments, that these lords were in much suspense all that night. On the morrow he continued the subject, and succeeded so far as to gain them over, or very nearly so, to his opinion; insomuch that Sir Hervé de Léon had advanced close to the town to take possession of it, with their free consent, when the countess, looking out from a window of the castle towards the sea, cried out, most joyfully, “I see the succours I have so long expected and wished for coming.” She repeated this expression twice; and the townspeople ran to the ramparts, and to the windows of the castle, and saw a numerous fleet of great and small vessels, well trimmed, making all the sail they could towards Hennebon. They rightly imagined it must be the fleet from England, so long detained at sea by tempests and contrary winds.[e] The besiegers were forced to retire. About this time the traitor Robert of Artois fell in an engagement near Vannes.

[Sidenote: [1342-1345 A.D.]]

Little by little, the two kings found themselves drawn personally into the contest. In 1342 Edward went himself to Brittany and appeared at the siege of Vannes, of Rennes, and of Nantes. The duke of Normandy drew up on his side an army comprising an infinity of barons and over forty thousand soldiers. The two forces met near Malestroit. The English, in numbers less than a fourth of their enemy, were careful to obtain a strong position. It was in the depth of winter; provision was lacking; cold rains flooded the two camps and multiplied disease. The papal legates proposed a truce, which was accepted on January 19th, 1343, to continue till the feast of St. Michael, 1346.[g]

It was also agreed that each monarch was to take the pope for arbiter, and plead his cause at Rome. Edward empowered certain commissioners to fulfil this office, and negotiate concerning “the right which he had, or might have, to the kingdom and crown of France.” That he was prepared to insist upon this right, is proved by his order to the authorities in Guienne to have all appeals from that province to the king of France addressed to him, in that capacity, at his court in London.

PHILIP’S FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES

These repeated truces were not the result of any diminution of inveteracy or of pretensions on either side, but of the impossibility to continue the payment and employ of such large armies. Of Philip’s financial or political acts we have not ample records; but sufficient exist to show the immense difficulty he found in supporting the military expenses of such campaigns. If to find proper soldiers was no easy task, to raise wherewith to pay them was a difficulty still greater. In 1342, Philip VI issued an ordinance, establishing store-houses and gabelles of salt, a government monopoly, in fact, of this necessary of life. Taxes on trade, wholesale or retail, had for some time existed. The Italian merchants paid so much in the pound on imports and exports. The city of Paris, in order to pay for the men-at-arms which were furnished to the royal army, had been allowed to levy a duty on all sales and purchases in the markets. The fairs of Champagne had always paid a similar tax. The king now levied this generally at the rate of five deniers the livre; but the chief resource was alternately debasing the coin, and raising its standard, until there was no ascertaining or being certain of its value for a month together. This incertitude put a stop to trade, and a scarcity coinciding with it, produced such universal distress, that partial insurrection and a general feeling of discontent were the consequence.

RENEWAL OF THE WAR WITH ENGLAND (1344 A.D.)

In the meantime, the pope made no progress in reconciling the two monarchs, or passing judgment upon their differences; and a cruel act of Philip’s so aroused Edward’s resentment, that although the term of the truce had not expired, he gave orders for recommencing war. Olivier de Clisson, a Breton noble, had been the prisoner of the English. Edward, it seems, released him instead of the bishop of Léon, also his captive. This sufficed to inspire Philip with doubts of his fidelity, and of a sudden, De Clisson, De Laval, and some twelve or thirteen Breton nobles, were seized, conveyed to Paris, and, without form of trial, or even public accusation, decapitated. Several barons of Normandy were soon after seized, and as summarily slain, one of them, of the family of Harcourt, alone escaping. These acts were not more cruel and unjust than the tortures, trials, and condemnations of Philip the Fair; but they were worse precedents, evincing a contempt for even the forms of justice, and making barefaced murder and assassination one of the regular proceedings of government.

Many of the decapitated nobles were at least friends of Edward. Without being guilty of treason, they might well have considered the rights of De Montfort in Brittany as superior to those of Charles of Blois. Edward denounced the assassinations committed by King Philip in issuing an order to his lieutenants to recommence the war. The French were by no means gladdened at this renewal of hostilities. They feared not so much the enemy as the tax-gatherer, and began to think that their intolerable burdens would be made permanent. In February, 1345, therefore, Philip found it necessary to issue a proclamation, stating that it was not his intention to unite the gabelle of salt or the tax of four deniers the livre to his domain: in other words, he promised that they were not to be permanent.

Edward had hitherto neglected Guienne, against which his enemies directed their principal efforts. The chief men of Bordeaux and Bayonne and the noblesse, true to the English crown, came to the festivity which Edward gave on the occasion of his instituting the order of the Garter, and their representations made so great an impression on him, that he despatched Lord Derby soon after, with three hundred knights, six hundred men-at-arms, and a greater number of infantry, to Bayonne. The French, not in force to defend the country south of the Dordogne, endeavoured to prevent Lord Derby from passing that river at Bergerac, and marching to the recovery of Périgord and the districts north of Bordeaux. The English accomplished this, the Genoese alone withstanding their arrows, and the troops which the French had raised in the county flying before them.

Derby marched into Périgord, and so well provided was he with what Froissart calls artillery, his engines throwing immense stones, that all the fortresses in upper Gascony submitted to him. The strongest of these was Auberoche, which fortress, as soon as Derby retired for the winter to Bordeaux, the nobles of the county in the French interest came to besiege. There were ten or twelve hundred of them, and Auberoche was hard pressed. Lord Derby and Sir Walter Manny instantly left Bordeaux, with three hundred lances and six hundred archers, and, with this small force, surprised and fell upon the army besieging Auberoche at the time of supper. The French were routed, and all the chief nobles of the district taken: every English soldier had two or three. The consequence of this victory was not only the fall of Réole and the places held by Philip north of the Garonne, but the capture of the important town of Angoulême by Lord Derby. The general submission to the English commander was not only due to his prowess, but to his _gentillesse_, in preventing his soldiers from pillaging and burning the towns and massacring the prisoners, as was then generally the custom in war.

[Sidenote: [1345-1346 A.D.]]

Whilst Lord Derby was reconquering Angoulême, Edward was endeavouring, by means of Artevelde, to turn the Flemish alliance to profit. Notwithstanding the English king’s assumption of the arms and title of king of France, the Flemings seemed not disposed to go much further than neutrality. Artevelde himself ruling by the democracy, with the rich citizens opposed to him, felt himself neither secure at home nor able to direct the forces of the Flemings abroad. In order to strengthen his position, he proposed making the son of Edward (the Black Prince) count of Flanders. The English king came with his fleet to Sluys, and had an interview there with the town magistrates of the Flemings; they could not entertain his proposal without first consulting their townsmen. The people of Bruges and Ypres were not averse to having the prince of Wales for their count; but with Ghent it was otherwise: there the enemies of Artevelde accused him of wishing to sell his country to the foreigner. They asked what had been done with all the money proceeding from the revenues that had been sequestered. The “great treasure,” they said, had been despatched to England. Artevelde hastened to Ghent to face his enemies, and refute them; but he had no sooner entered the streets than he perceived the efforts of his enemies to have prevailed, and the minds of his fellow-townsmen turned against him. He shut himself up in his hôtel; harangued and tried to move the crowd from one of the windows. Their reply was, “Give us an account of the great treasure of Flanders.” Artevelde promised that he would do this fully on the morrow. “No,” replied the crowd; “we must have an account of it immediately, lest you escape to England, whither you have already sent your treasure.” Artevelde then wept, and reproached them with “having made him what he was, and now wanting to kill him. Recollect that your trade was lost when I took the government, and that I recovered all for you--procured you abundance, and work, and peace; and for all the great good I did you, God knows I obtained little profit.” Such reproaches were not calculated to move the mob, which clamoured but the more. Artevelde tried to escape to a neighbouring church; but his enemies seized him in the street, and slew him without mercy. Edward’s first movement was to take vengeance on the Flemings for the death of their leader; but the towns of West Flanders convinced him that they regretted the act of the people of Ghent as much as he did.

EDWARD RETURNS TO FRANCE (1346 A.D.)

The reverses which the French monarch suffered in Guienne had been thus compensated by Edward’s loss of his Flemish ally, and, at the same time, by the death of John de Montfort. That prince, after his escape from the Louvre, had led succours from England to Brittany, but was able to do little towards changing the aspect of affairs or the relative position of parties, when he died at Hennebon. All the efforts of Philip were directed towards repelling Lord Derby. The French king assembled his estates in the north and in the south, but more to appease discontent than to command succour or adhesion: he merely proposed continuing his present levies of money, on the understanding that they were to cease at the peace. An army was collected and sent, under the duke of Normandy, to the south. He recovered Angoulême, and laid siege to Aiguillon, an important fortress not far from Agen; but Sir Walter Manny and Lord Pembroke were within the walls, and infused such spirit into the garrison that during four months it defied the duke of Normandy and his army, said to number one hundred thousand men.

The obstinacy of the siege as well as the defence induced the English king to march to the succour of his general, for Lord Derby at Bordeaux had no force sufficient to encounter the duke of Normandy. An expedition was fitted out, at Southampton, consisting of four thousand men-at-arms and ten thousand archers, besides the Irish and Welsh.[b]

The English fleet set sail for the mouth of the Gironde, where a tempest hurled it back into the Channel. A new traitor, Godfrey d’Harcourt, advised landing in Normandy, and promised the aid of his vassals and the use of his entire province. The king landed (July 22nd, 1346), with thirty-two thousand men, at La Hogue St. Waast, in the Cotentin. He easily possessed himself of Barfleur, Cherbourg, Valognes, and St. Lô. The 26th, he was at the walls of Caen--a city larger than any in England excepting London.

The inhabitants sallied forth bravely to the encounter. “But as soon as they beheld the approach of the English,” says Froissart,[e] “in three divisions, close and compact, a multitude of banners flying, and saw the archers, to whom they had not been accustomed, they were so frightened that they betook themselves to flight, and not all the world could have stopped them.”

The English entered the city with the fugitives, slaying as they went, showing mercy to none. But the inhabitants recovered their courage and defended themselves in their homes; more than five hundred English were dead or wounded when Edward put an end to the fighting, promising the inhabitants to spare their lives.[18] Louviers, which was already great, wealthy, and commercial, was next taken. An attempt on Rouen had miscarried. He returned along the left bank of the Seine, burning Pont-de-l’Arche, Vernon, Poissy, and St. Germain. His couriers came within sight of Paris, and burned Bourg-la-Reine and St. Cloud.

Hereupon Philip assembled a large force and marched on the English. Edward rebuilt the bridge at Poissy and by it passed over the Seine and retreated to his fief at Ponthieu, to establish himself beyond the Somme. Philip fortified and sentinelled all the fords of that river. At that of Blanquetaque he posted one thousand men-at-arms and five thousand Genoese archers. Edward forced a passage; but realising that he could retreat no further he halted, and on the 27th of August disposed his army for battle on the slope of a hill near Crécy, his men being in good order and condition.[g] His knights and nobles were to fight on foot, there being but four thousand of them.

The total English army must have numbered from twenty-five to thirty thousand combatants. Froissart evidently underestimates its size as he increases the total of the French force, doubtless in order to make the issue of the battle all the more marvellous.

But all exaggeration aside, the disproportion was enormous. Philip marched at the head of at least seventy thousand men among whom were about ten thousand men-at-arms, and a large body of Genoese archers whose numbers have been placed at from six to fifteen thousand.[d] But the French were a disorderly and undisciplined host while the English were professional soldiers and old campaigners, obedient to their chiefs and their sovereign.[b]

Philip had left Abbeville in the morning to go in quest of the enemy, then five miles distant. Heavy rains impeded the march. Four scouts sent to reconnoitre returned with the report that they had found the English waiting in the position they had chosen; and they counselled the king to allow his soldiers a night’s repose.

Philip gave the order to halt. But the great lords of France, instigated by vanity, moved one ahead of another, to get nearer the enemy. Neither the king nor his marshals could exercise any control over the troops, on account of the multitude of nobles each striving to assert his own authority. These rode about, without orders and without discretion, until they stumbled suddenly upon the camp of the enemy.[g]

FROISSART’S DESCRIPTION OF CRÉCY (1346 A.D.)

[Illustration: A FRENCH KNIGHT OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

The English, who were drawn up in three divisions, and seated on the ground, on seeing their enemies advance, rose undauntedly up, and fell into their ranks. That of the prince[19] was the first to do so, whose archers were formed in the manner of a portcullis, or harrow, and the men-at-arms in the rear. The earls of Northampton and Arundel, who commanded the second division, had posted themselves in good order on his wing, to assist and succour the prince, if necessary.

You must know that these kings, earls, barons, and lords of France did not advance in any regular order, but one after the other, or any way most pleasing to themselves. As soon as the king of France came in sight of the English, his blood began to boil, and he cried out to his marshals, “Order the Genoese forward, and begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis.” There were about fifteen thousand Genoese crossbow-men; but they were quite fatigued, having marched on foot that day six leagues, completely armed, and with their crossbows. They told the constable, they were not in a fit condition to do any great things that day in battle. The earl of Alençon, hearing this, said, “This is what one gets by employing such scoundrels, who fall off when there is any need for them.” During this time a heavy rain fell, accompanied by thunder and a very terrible eclipse of the sun; and before this rain a great flight of crows hovered in the air over all those battalions, making a loud noise. Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and the sun shone very bright; but the Frenchmen had it in their faces, and the English in their backs. When the Genoese were somewhat in order, and approached the English, they set up a loud shout, in order to frighten them; but they remained quite still, and did not seem to attend to it. They then set up a second shout, and advanced a little forward; but the English never moved. They hooted a third time, advancing with their crossbows presented, and began to shoot. The English archers then advanced one step forward, and shot their arrows with such force and quickness, that it seemed as if it snowed. When the Genoese felt these arrows, which pierced their arms, heads, and through their armour, some of them cut the strings of their crossbows, others flung them on the ground, and all turned about and retreated quite discomfited. The French had a large body of men-at-arms on horseback, richly dressed, to support the Genoese. The king of France, seeing them thus fall back, cried out, “Kill me those scoundrels; for they stop up our road without any reason.” You would then have seen the above-mentioned men-at-arms lay about them, killing all they could of these runaways.

The English continued shooting as vigorously and quickly as before; some of their arrows fell among the horsemen, who were sumptuously equipped, and, killing and wounding many, made them caper and fall among the Genoese, so that they were in such confusion they could never rally again. In the English army there were some Cornish and Welshmen on foot, who had armed themselves with large knives; these, advancing through the ranks of the men-at-arms and archers, who made way for them, came upon the French when they were in this danger, and, falling upon earls, barons, knights, and squires, slew many, at which the king of England was afterwards much exasperated. The valiant king of Bohemia was slain there. He was called John of Luxemburg; for he was the son of the gallant king and emperor, Henry of Luxemburg; having heard the order of the battle, he inquired where his son the lord Charles was; his attendants answered that they did not know, but believed he was fighting. The king said to them: “Gentlemen, you are all my people, my friends, and brethren-at-arms this day; therefore, as I am blind,[20] I request of you to lead me so far into the engagement that I may strike one stroke with my sword.” The knights replied, they would directly lead him forward; and in order that they might not lose him in the crowd, they fastened all the reins of their horses together, and put the king at their head, that he might gratify his wish, and advanced towards the enemy. The lord Charles of Bohemia, who already signed his name as king of Germany, and bore the arms, had come in good order to the engagement; but when he perceived that it was likely to turn out against the French, he departed, and I do not well know what road he took. The king, his father, had ridden in among the enemy, and made good use of his sword; for he and his companions had fought most gallantly. They had advanced so far that they were all slain; and on the morrow they were found on the ground, with their horses all tied together.

The earl of Alençon advanced in regular order upon the English, to fight with them; as did the earl of Flanders, in another part. These two lords, with their detachments, coasting, as it were, the archers, came to the prince’s battalion, where they fought valiantly for a length of time. The king of France was eager to march to the place where he saw their banners displayed, but there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that day made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir John of Hainault, who had mounted on it a knight of his, called Sir John de Fusselles, that bore his banner; which horse ran off with him, and forced his way through the English army, and, when about to return, stumbled and fell into a ditch and severely wounded him; he would have been dead, if his page had not followed him round the battalions, and found him unable to rise; he had not, however, any other hindrance than from his horse; for the English did not quit the ranks that day to make prisoners. The page alighted, and raised him up; but he did not return the way he came, as he would have found it difficult from the crowd. This battle, which was fought on the Saturday between La Broyes and Crécy, was very murderous and cruel; and many gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never known. Towards evening, many knights and squires of the French had lost their masters; they wandered up and down the plain, attacking the English in small parties; they were soon destroyed; for the English had determined that day to give no quarter, or hear of ransom from anyone.

Early in the day, some French, Germans, and Savoyards had broken through the archers of the prince’s battalion, and had engaged with the men-at-arms; upon which the second battalion came to his aid, and it was time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. The first division, seeing the danger they were in, sent a knight in great haste to the king of England, who was posted upon an eminence, near a windmill. On the knight’s arrival, he said, “Sir, the earl of Warwick, the lord Stafford, the lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about your son, are vigorously attacked by the French; and they entreat that you would come to their assistance with your battalion, for, if their numbers should increase, they fear he will have too much to do.” The king replied, “Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support himself?” “Nothing of the sort, thank God,” rejoined the knight; “but he is in so hot an engagement that he has great need of your help.” The king answered, “Now, Sir Thomas, return back to those that sent you, and tell them from me, not to send again for me this day, or expect that I shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life; and say, that I command them to let the boy win his spurs; for I am determined, if it please God, that all the glory and honour of this day shall be given to him, and to those into whose care I have intrusted him.” The knight returned to his lords, and related the king’s answer, which mightily encouraged them, and made them repent they had ever sent such a message.

It is a certain fact that Sir Godfrey d’Harcourt, who was in the prince’s battalion, having been told by some of the English that they had seen the banner of his brother engaged in the battle against him, was exceedingly anxious to save him; but he was too late, for he was left dead on the field, and so was the earl of Aumarle his nephew. On the other hand, the earls of Alençon and of Flanders were fighting lustily under their banners, and with their own people; but they could not resist the force of the English, and were there slain, as well as many other knights and squires that were attending on or accompanying them. The earl of Blois, nephew to the king of France, and the duke of Lorraine his brother-in-law, with their troops, made a gallant defence; but they were surrounded by a troop of English and Welsh, and slain in spite of their prowess. The earl of Saint-Pol and the earl of Auxerre were also killed, as well as many others. Late after vespers, the king of France had not more about him than sixty men, every one included. Sir John of Hainault, who was of the number, had once remounted the king; for his horse had been killed under him by an arrow; he said to the king, “Sir, retreat whilst you have an opportunity, and do not expose yourself so simply; if you have lost this battle, another time you will be the conqueror.” After he had said this, he took the bridle of the king’s horse, and led him off by force; for he had before entreated of him to retire. The king rode on until he came to the castle of La Broyes, where he found the gates shut, for it was very dark. The king ordered the governor of it to be summoned; he came upon the battlements, and asked who it was that called at such an hour? The king answered, “Open, open, governor; it is the fortune of France.” The governor, hearing the king’s voice, immediately descended, opened the gate, and let down the bridge. The king and his company entered the castle; but he had with him only five barons, Sir John of Hainault, the lord Charles of Montmorency, the lord of Beaujeu, the lord of Aubigny, and the lord of Montfort. The king would not bury himself in such a place as that, but, having taken some refreshments, set out again with his attendants about midnight, and rode on, under the direction of guides who were well acquainted with the country, until, about daybreak, he came to Amiens, where he halted. This Saturday the English never quitted their ranks in pursuit of anyone, but remained on the field, guarding their position, and defending themselves against all who attacked them.

[Illustration: RUINS OF A FRENCH TOWER OF THE THIRTEENTH OR FOURTEENTH CENTURY]

The battle was ended at the hour of vespers. When, on this Saturday night, the English heard no more hooting or shouting, nor crying out to particular lords or their banners, they looked upon the field as their own, and their enemies as beaten. They made great fires, and lighted torches because of the obscurity of the night. King Edward then came down from his post, who all that day had not put on his helmet, and, with his whole battalion, advanced to the prince of Wales, whom he embraced in his arms and kissed, and said, “Sweet son, God give you good perseverance: you are my son, for most loyally have you acquitted yourself this day: you are worthy to be a sovereign.” The prince bowed down very low, and humbled himself, giving all honour to the king his father. The English, during the night, made frequent thanksgivings to the Lord, for the happy issue of the day, and without rioting; for the king had forbidden all riot or noise. On the Sunday morning, there was so great a fog that one could scarcely see the distance of half an acre. The king ordered a detachment from the army, under the command of the two marshals, consisting of about five hundred lances and two thousand archers, to make an excursion, and see if there were any bodies of French collected together. The quota of troops, from Rouen and Beauvais, had, this Sunday morning, left Abbeville and St. Ricquier in Ponthieu, to join the French army, and were ignorant of the defeat of the preceding evening: they met this detachment, and, thinking they must be French, hastened to join them.

As soon as the English found who they were, they fell upon them; and there was a sharp engagement; but the French soon turned their backs, and fled in great disorder. There were slain in this flight in the open fields, under hedges and bushes, upwards of seven thousand; and had it been clear weather, not one soul would have escaped.

A little time afterwards, this same party fell in with the archbishop of Rouen and the great prior of France, who were also ignorant of the discomfiture of the French; for they had been informed that the king was not to fight before Sunday. Here began a fresh battle, for those two lords were well attended by good men-at-arms; however, they could not withstand the English, but were almost all slain, with the two chiefs who commanded them, very few escaping. In the course of the morning, the English found many Frenchmen who had lost their road on the Saturday, and had lain in the open fields, not knowing what was become of the king, or their own leaders. The English put to the sword all they met[21]: and it has been assured to me for fact, that of foot-soldiers sent from the cities, towns, and municipalities, there were slain, this Sunday morning, four times as many as in the battle of the Saturday.[e]

MICHELET ON THE RESULTS OF CRÉCY

The battle of Crécy was not merely a battle; the event involved a great social revolution. The whole chivalry of the most chivalrous nation was exterminated by a small band of foot-soldiers. A new system of tactics came forth from a new state of society; it was not a work of genius or reflection. Edward III employed foot-soldiers for want of horse. The issue revealed a fact of which no one dreamed till then; namely, the military inefficiency of that feudal world which had thought itself the only military world. The private wars of the barons, and of canton against canton, in the primitive isolation of the Middle Ages, had not disclosed this truth; for then gentlemen were defeated only by gentlemen. Two centuries of defeats, during the Crusades, had not damaged their reputation. All Christendom was interested in disguising the successes of the misbelievers. Besides, these wars were waged so far away, that there was always some means of excusing every disaster: the heroism of a Godefroy and a Richard redeemed all the rest. In the thirteenth century, when the feudal banners were habituated to follow the king’s, when out of so many seigniorial courts was formed a single one, brilliant beyond all the fictions of the romances, the nobles, diminished in power, increased in pride; humbled in their own person, they felt themselves exalted in their king. They valued themselves more or less in proportion as they shared in the galas of royalty.

In excuse for the disaster of Courtrai, the nobles pleaded their own hare-brained heroism, and the Flemish ditch. Two easy massacres at Mons-en-Pévêlle and Cassel retrieved their reputation. For several years they railed at the king, who forbade them to vanquish. An opportunity was afforded them at Crécy; the whole chivalry of the kingdom was there assembled; every banner flaunted in the wind, with all those haughty blazons, lions, eagles, castles, besants of the Crusades, and all the arrogant symbolism of heraldry. Opposed to this gallant array, excepting four thousand men-at-arms, all the rest were the barefooted English commons, the rude mountaineers of Wales, and the swineherds of Ireland, blind and savage races, that knew neither French, nor English, nor chivalry. They aimed none the worse for this at noble banners; they killed but so much the more: there was no common tongue in which to parley. The Welshman or Irishman did not understand the noble baron prostrate beneath him, who offered to make him rich, and he made answer only with the knife.

From that day forth there was many an unbeliever in the religion of nobility. Armorial symbolism lost all its effect. Man began to doubt that those lions could bite, or those silken dragons vomit forth fire and flames. The cow of Switzerland and of Wales seemed good armorial bearings too.

THE SIEGE OF CALAIS

This huge disaster only led the way to a greater one. Edward laid siege to Calais, and set himself down before it in fixed quarters for life or death. After the sacrifices he had made for this expedition he could not show his face to the commons until he should have accomplished his enterprise. Round the town he built a second town with streets, and wooden houses solidly and snugly constructed, to serve for residence through summer and winter.

The Englishman, established in good quarters, and with abundant supplies, let those within and without the town do what they had a mind. He did not even grant them battle, but preferred starving them out. Five hundred persons, men, women, and children, expelled from the town by the governor, died of cold and hunger between the town and the camp. Such, at least, is the statement of the English historian Knighton.[i] Froissart[e] says, on the contrary, that he not only let them pass through his army, but also gave them an abundant repast.

Edward had taken root before Calais, nor was the pope’s mediation capable of forcing him from thence. News was brought him that the Scotch were about to invade England. He never stirred. His perseverance was rewarded, for he soon learned that his troops, encouraged by his queen, had taken the king of Scotland prisoner. The next year Charles of Blois was likewise taken in besieging La Roche de Rien. Edward had but to fold his arms and leave fortune to work for him.

It was matter of most urgent necessity for the king of France to succour Calais; but so great was his penury, so inert and embarrassed was that feudal monarchy, that it was not until the siege had lasted ten months that he was able to put himself in motion, when the English were fortified and intrenched behind palisades and deep ditches. Having scraped together some money by a debasement of the coinage, the gabelle, the ecclesiastical tithes, and the confiscation of the property of the Lombards, he at last began his march with a huge army like that which had been beaten at Crécy. He had no way of reaching Calais except through marshes or over sand-hills. To take the former course would have been certain destruction, for all the passes were intersected and guarded. The men of Tournay, however, gallantly carried a castle by assault, without machines and by strength of hand alone.

[Sidenote: [1346-1347 A.D.]]

The downs on the coast of Boulogne were under the fire of the English fleet. Those about Gravelines were kept by the Flemings whom the king could not suborn. He offered them heaps of gold, and the surrender of Lille, Béthune, and Douai; he would enrich their burgomasters, and make knights and lords of their young men. Nothing could tempt them; they were too much afraid of the return of their count, who, after a false reconciliation, had again escaped out of their hands. Philip could do nothing. He negotiated, he challenged; Edward remained unmoved.[22]

Horrible was the despair in the famished town when they saw all those banners of France, all that great army marching away and leaving them to their fate. Nothing remained for the people of Calais but to give themselves up to the enemy if he would condescend to accept their surrender. It was probable enough that the king of England, who had passed such a tedious time before Calais, who had sat down a whole year there, and spent in one campaign the enormous sum for those days of nearly £400,000 sterling, would give himself the satisfaction of putting the inhabitants to the sword, whereby he would certainly have gratified the English merchants. But Edward’s knights told him flatly that if he treated the besieged in that manner his own men would never again venture to shut themselves up in fortresses for fear of reprisal. He gave way, and condescended to admit the town to mercy, provided some of the principal townspeople came, according to custom, bareheaded and barefoot, with ropes round their necks, and presented the keys to him.

There was danger for those who should first appear in the king’s presence. There were instantly found in that little town, depopulated as it was by famine, six volunteers to save the rest. Nevertheless, the queen and the knights had to intercede with Edward, to prevent his hanging those gallant fellows.[f]

Thus did Calais fall into the hands of England a year after the battle of Crécy. Edward, according to Walsingham,[j] spent a month in the town, ordering and fortifying it. He sent all the knights captive to England, and expelled a certain number of the other French townsmen, replacing them by English. He induced thirty-six rich citizens of London, with their families, to settle there, with three hundred of lesser condition, bestowing upon them several privileges and advantages. He fixed at Calais the staple of tin, lead, and woollen cloth, and prohibited all persons from exporting or shipping these commodities to England, unless they took oath to unship them at Calais. Eustace of St. Pierre was amongst the French citizens who remained and recovered their property, on transferring their allegiance to the English king. His heirs afterwards forfeited the property by refusing this allegiance.

SUSPENSION OF THE WAR (1347 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [1347-1348 A.D.]]

The papal legates seized this opportunity of renewing their efforts to bring about an accommodation between the monarchs. The capture of Calais, indeed, rendered terms of peace more difficult to arrange; but that event, with the campaign which preceded it, rendered a peace desirable on both sides. Edward consented, although Rymer contains many proofs of his intention to sail again to the continent and renew the war. The truce was at first concluded for ten months, but was extended from time to time, the monarchs being occupied with other cares. It was a cessation but from great expeditions and large armies, for partisans on both sides did not relax in their schemes to surprise and their efforts to hurt. Although Scotland was included in the truce, Douglas would not keep the peace; neither would French or English in Gascony. The _brigands_, as foot-soldiers were called, associated in bands of thirty or forty to pillage towns, surprise castles, and then sell them for large sums. King Philip did not disdain to purchase the castle of Combourne from the brigand Bacon, for 24,000 livres. This brigand, says Froissart, “was as well armed and mounted as any knight in the army, and in as great honour with the king.”

The truce was not even observed between the now hostile towns of Calais and St. Omer. Geoffrey of Charny, who commanded for Philip in the latter place, hearing that Edward had intrusted the command in Calais to an Italian, Aimery di Pavia, made offers of many thousand florins, if he would betray the town. Pavia pretended to consent, but warned Edward, who came with his son, the Black Prince, and a body of archers and men-at-arms. Pavia, by the king’s order, allowed a division of the French to pass the bridge and enter the fortifications, where they were instantly surrounded and taken prisoners. And then Edward and his son attacked the French under Charny, routing, slaying, and capturing the greater number. The king himself in the fray had a personal encounter with Eustace de Ribeaumont, whom he compelled to surrender, and to whom he afterwards presented a chaplet adorned with pearls, as a token of friendship and admiration.

In Brittany the lieutenants of King Philip were not more successful than at Calais. Charles of Blois himself had set the truce at naught by an attack upon the castle La Roche de Rien. Whilst thus engaged, he was come upon unawares by the forces of the De Montfort party, his army routed, himself severely wounded, and taken prisoner (1347). From Brittany he was sent to England.

A more general renewal of the war was rendered impossible by the eruption of the plague, which in the summer of 1348 carried off large numbers, first in the south of France,[23] from whence it extended to Paris and the towns of the north. Tumours under the arms and in the groin were the peculiarities of the disease, which almost always proved fatal. Out of twenty persons in a village, says a chronicler, not two remained. The towns of the south were especially depopulated, such as Marbonne, Montpellier, and Avignon. The Laura of Petrarch was amongst the victims. Eight hundred died each day in Paris, where the loss could not have been less than one hundred thousand. Amongst the consequences of the epidemic are mentioned a great scarcity of provisions and a complete suspense of education from the lack of teachers.

TERRITORIAL ACQUISITION

[Sidenote: [1343-1348 A.D.]]

Whilst France was thus ravaged by pestilence and humiliated by defeat, Philip succeeded in annexing to the monarchy the important province of Dauphiné, which lay between its possessions of Burgundy and Provence, and gave France the entire region westward of the Alps. The two contiguous principalities and dynasties of Savoy and of Dauphiné had started up and grown together in continued rivalry. Although the Savoy princes were defeated in one great battle they were still more than a match for the dauphins, as the princes who kept their court at Vienne were called from the arms they had assumed. The dauphin had recourse to the aid of the king of France; and, by degrees, the protection which these afforded grew into suzerainty. Humbert, the last dauphin, was a strange and capricious character; he had the misfortune to have let fall from a window of his castle his only son, the child being dashed to pieces as he fell. This misfortune disturbed the reason of the prince, who determined to proceed to the Holy Land and sell or mortgage his possessions in order to raise funds for the purpose. He began by selling lands, which he possessed in Normandy, to John, duke of this province. At last the dauphin consented to sell the reversion of the principality. He agreed to appoint the second son of Philip of Valois, Philip of Orleans, as his future heir, in the event of his having no children.

This treaty, so advantageous to France, was concluded in 1343, and Humbert took his departure for Palestine. None ever expected to see the return of so witless a prince. The dauphin, however, did return, not only to resume the government of his paternal dominion, but to regret the reckless manner in which he had alienated the independence of Dauphiné. He began to seek to extricate himself from his engagements. Edward III tried to induce the emperor of Germany to confer upon Humbert the title of king; but, surrounded by the power and the emissaries of France, the dauphin was not able to shake off his dependency. He was finally (1349) induced to transfer his adoption to Charles, son of John, duke of Normandy, heir to the French throne. This was the future Charles V. Having accomplished this act, Humbert withdrew to a convent, whilst young Charles assumed the title of dauphin, which was afterwards borne by the heir to the throne, and the possession of that rich province.[b]

The money spent in the purchase of Dauphiné was at least well spent for France. A few days after the definite treaty with Humbert, Philip made another useful acquisition: he bought the lordship of Montpellier from the last king of Majorca, James II. This prince, despoiled of the Balearic Isles, Roussillon, and Cerdagne, by his cousin, the king of Aragon, sold Montpellier in order to raise an army with which to recover his realm. Don James was beaten and killed; Montpellier remained to France.[d]

The plague of this year had been peculiarly fatal to princesses. The queen of France, Joan of Burgundy, the duchess of Normandy, wife of Prince John and daughter of the king of Bohemia, the queen of Navarre, daughter of Louis Hutin, perished under its influence. But no sooner had the pestilence disappeared, than marriage and its accompanying festivities became the order of the day. “The world,” says the chronicler, “was renewed, but, unfortunately, not bettered; the enemies of France and of the church were no fewer, nor less powerful.”

[Sidenote: [1348-1350 A.D.]]

King Philip espoused a young wife, daughter of the queen of Navarre, just deceased. This princess, Blanche by name, had been destined to the duke of Normandy; but the king, his father, found her beautiful, and married her himself. The duke of Normandy married a duchess of Burgundy, and the dauphin, Charles, espoused a daughter of the duke of Bourbon. Thus were celebrated the marriages of three generations of princes.

Philip of Valois did not long survive his marriage with Blanche. He fell ill, and expired at Nogent in August, 1350. The continuator of Nangis[c] relates that he called his sons, the duke of Normandy, and Philip of Orleans, afterwards of Valois, to his bedside, and pointed out to them the validity of his right to the crown, and the necessity of defending it strenuously, and without any concession, against Edward of England, with whom the truce was about to expire.

Philip of Valois was the first prince of truly chivalrous spirit that ascended the throne of France. Unfortunately for him, he succeeded at a period when chivalry was insufficient either to illustrate the warrior or achieve great results in war. Unfortunately, too, he derived from his predecessors those unscrupulous habits of wreaking vengeance and spilling blood, which they were taught to consider their sovereign right, as if royal power and descent cancelled every crime, and consecrated even the basest treachery and felony. French kings are lauded by their countrymen for having considered themselves above feudalism. Feudalism, however, had its laws of honour and its sense of right; with these, unfortunately, French kings too soon and too completely dispensed.[b]

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES

[16] [Charles intrusted the siege to Louis of Spain, a descendant of Ferdinand de la Cerda--eldest son of Alfonso the Learned. Ferdinand’s sons had been set aside in favour of their uncle. Some of this family took up their residence in France. This Louis de la Cerda was Ferdinand’s grandson. In 1341 he received the title of “Admiral of France.”]

[17] Lord Berners reads, “She caused damoselles and other women _to cut shorte their kyrtels_,” instead of “to unpave the streets,” as Mr. Johnes translates it. The words in D. Sauvage’s edition are “_dépecer les chaussées_,” to tear up the causeways, but when we consider that the streets of cities were very rarely paved at this period, Lord Berners’ version appears the more probable, and may be reconciled to the text if we read “_chausses_” for “_chaussées_,” which is not unlikely to be an error in transcribing.

[18] [Among the captures at Caen, was a document dated 1338, wherein the Normans offered Philip to reconquer England at their own cost, on condition he would reportion it among them after the fashion of William the Conqueror. It was used with good effect in rousing English spirit and continuing the wars. Some authorities regard it as a forgery.]

[19] [Prince Edward of Wales--the famous “Black Prince.” He was but thirteen years old and only nominally in command of the first line under the guardianship of the earl of Warwick and Godfrey d’Harcourt.]

[20] [His blindness was supposed to have been caused by poison, which was alleged to have been given to him when engaged in the wars of Italy.]

[21] [According to Froissart the English reconnoitring party slaughtered 7,000 in the fog. He declares that more perished on this Sunday than on the day of battle. The clerks sent by Edward to tally the dead reported 11 princes, 80 bannerets, 1,200 simple knights, and above 30,000 common men.]

[22] Edward announces in a letter to the archbishop of York that he had accepted the challenge, and that the fight did not take place, because Philip marched off precipitately before the day, after having set fire to his camp.

[23] [It had spread to France from Italy where its ravages were no less appalling. An extended notice of it is given in our history of Italy, Volume IX, where Boccaccio’s vivid description of its terrors may be found.]

[Illustration]