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^
THE
HISTORY OF FRANCE
RELATED FOR THE RISING GENERATION,
LONDON :
OILBBBT AND RIYINOTON, FBINTBBR,
ST. JOHN'S SQUARE.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
Chapter XIX. The Communes and the Third Estate 1
XX The Hundred Years' War. PhiUp VI. and John II. . 49
XXI. The States-General of the Fourteenth Century . .133
XXIL The Hundred Years' War. Charles V 170
XXni. The Hundred Years' War. Charles VL and the Dukes of
Burgundy 227
XXIV. The Hundred Years' War. Charles VIL and Joan of Arc
(U21— 1461) 312
XXV. Louis XL (1461—1483) 411
XXVL The Wars in Italy.— Charles VIIL (1483—1498) . 601
„ XXVIL The Wars in Italy.— Louis XIL (1498—1515) . . .552
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
HeaJ-piece of Chapter XIX 1
The Peasants resolved to live according to. their own inclinations and their
own laws - 6
Insurrection in favour of the Commune at Carabrai 13
Bishop Gaudri dniggeJ from the Cask 23
The Cathedral of Laon . 43
Tail-piece of Chapter XIX 48
Head-piece of Chapter XX 49
Van Artevelde at his Door 65
" See ! See !" she cried 83
Statue of James van Artevelde 99
Queen Philippa at the feet of the King .115
John II., calle<l the Good 123
" Father, ware right ! Father, ware left !" 129
Tail-piece of Chapter XX. . 132
Head- piece of Chapter XXI. 133
Charles the Bad, King of Navarre 137
Stephen Marcel 145
The LouvTe in the Fourteenth Century . . . . .153
Tbe Murder of the Marshals. ......... 157
*'Iii his hands the Keys of the Gates" 165
Head-piece of Chapter XXII 170
CiiarlesV 183
BigFerr6 191
Bertrand du Guesclin 203
Putting the Keys on Du Guesclin's Bier 223
Head-piece of Chapter XXIII. . . 227
The Procession went over the Gates 235
"Thou art betrayed" 247
Murder of the Duke of Orleans 259
Death of Valentine de Milan 267
John the Fearless 273
Already distressed ........... 281
Charles VL and Odette 295
"Into the River!" 303
viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Tail-piece of Chapter XXIII 311
Head-piece of Chapter XXIV 312
Joan of Arc at Domr^my 319
Herself drew out the Arrow . 337
Joan examined in Prison 355
Philip the Good of Burgundy 373
The Constable made his Entry on horsebaok . .381
Jacques Coeur 305
Jacques Coeur's Hostel at Bourges 401
Agnes SoreL Tail-piece of Chapter XXTV 410
Head-piece of Chapter XX V 411
Louis XL and Burgesses waiting for News 423
Charles the Rash 435
Louis XL and Charles the Rash at Peronne 443
Philip de Commynes 453
The Corpse of Charles the Rash discovered 473
Views of the Castle of Plessis-les-Tours . 483
Louis XI 495
TaU-piece of Chapter XXV 500
Head-piece of Chapter XXVI '. .501
Anne de Beaujeu 505
Meeting between Charles VIII. and Anne of Brittany 523
Charles VIIL 533
Battle of Fomovo ........... 545
Tail-piece of Chapter XXVI 551
Head-piece of Chapter XXVII 552
Louis XII 555
Bayard 561
Battle of Agnadello 579
Cardinal d'Amboise ........... 589
Bayard's Farewell 605
Gaston deFoix 012
Chaumont d'Amboise 623
f*iitt V**"'*
H^*-
^^^
CHAPTER XIX.
THE C0>™UNE8 AND THE TillBD ESTATK.
^HE history of the Mero\nngians is that of barbariana
invading Gaul and Bottling upon the niins of tho Roman
empire. The history of the Carlovingians is that of
tlio gi*oate»t of tho barbarians taking ui>oii hiranelf tiO resuscitate
the Bonuiu empire, and of ChaHeimigne's dosccjiidants dii^puting
amongst themselves for the fragments of his fabric, as fragile
as it was grand. Amidst this vast chaos and upon this double rain
was formid tlie feudal sy6t4?m, whicli by tmnsformatiou afk^r trans-
formation became ultimately France* Hugh Ca|>et> one of its
chieftains, made hintself its King. The Capetians achievod the
French kingship. W© have traced its character and progressive
development from the eleven tli to the fourteenth century, through
tliC reigns of Louis the Fat, of Philip Augustus, of St* Louis and
of Philip the Handsome, princes very diveri^o and very unequal in
merit but all of them able ami energetic. This period was likewise
the cradle of the French nation* That was the time wWn it began
to exhibit itself in its different elements, and to arise under
VOL u, B
HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XIX,
monarcliical rule fromtlie midst of the feudal system. Its earliest"
features and its earliest efforts in the long and laborious work of
its development are now to be set before the reader's ejres* ^|
The two words inscribed at the head of this chapter, the
Commmws and the Third-Estate, are verbal expressions for the two
great facts at that time revealing that the French nation was in
labour of formation. Closely connected one with the other and
tending towards the same end, these two facts are, nevertheless^
very diverse, and even when they have not been confounded, thej
have not been with sufficient clearness distinguished and charac-
terized, each of them apart. They are diverse both in thei
chronological date and their social importance. The Co^mnune
are the first to appear in history. They appear there as local facts,
isolated one from another, often very different in point of origin
though analogous in their aim, and in every case neither assuming
nor pretending to assume any place in the government of the State.
Local interests and rights, the special affairs of certain populations
agglomerated in certain spots, are the only objects, the only
province of the communes. With this purely municipal and
individual character they come to their birth, their confirraation
and their development from the eleventh to the fourteenth century;
and at .the end of two centuries they enter upon their decline, they
occupy far less room and make far less noise in history. It iflH
exactly then that the Third E.^fafe comes to the front, and uplifts"
itself as a general fact, a national element, a political power. It is
the successor, not the contemporary, of the Communes ; they con-
tributed much towards, but did not suffice for its formation ; iifl
drew upon other resources, and was developed under other
influences than those which gave existence to the communes. It
has subsisted, it has gone on growing throughout the whole course
of French history; and at the end of five centuries, in 1789, when
the Commmnes had for a long while sunk into languish raent and
political insignificance, at the moment at which France was electing
her CamtUueni Assmibhj^ the Abb^Sifeyes, a man of powerful rathei
than scrupulous mind, could say, " WTiat is the Thini Estate i
Every thing, \VTiat has it hitherto been in the body politic!
Nothing. Wliat does it demand ? To be something/*
Chap, XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. S
These words contained three grave errors. In the course of
government anterior to 1789, so far was the third estate from being
nothings that it had been every day becoming gi*eater and stronger.
What was demanded for it in 1789 by M. Sieyes and his friends
was not that it might become something but that it should be every
thing. That was a desire beyond its right and its strength; and
the very Revohition, which was its own victory^ proved this.
Whatever may have been the weaknesses and faults of its foes,
the third estate had a terrible struggle to conquer them ; and the
struggle was so violent and so obstinate that the third estate was
broken up therein, and had to pay dearly for its triumph. At
first it obtained thereby despotism instead of liberty ; and when
liberty returned, the third estate found itself confronted by twofold
hostility, that of its foes under the old regimen and that of the
absolute democracy which claimed in its turn to be every thing*
Outrageous claims bring about intractable opposition and excite
unbridled ambition. What there was in the words of the Abb^
Silyes in 1789 was not the verity of history ; it was a lying pro-
gramme of revolution.
We have anticipated dates in order to properly chai^acterize and
explain the facts as they present themselves, by giving a glimpse
of their scope and their attainment* Now that we have clearly
marked the profound difference between the third estate and the
communes, we will return to the communes alone, which had the
priority in respect of time. We will trace the origin and the com*
position of the third estate, when we reach the period at which it
became one of the gre^t performers in the history of France by
reason of the place it assumed and the part it played in the States-
general of the kingdom p
In dealing with the formation of the communes from the eleventh
to the fourt43enth century the majority of the French historians,
even M. Thierry, the most original and clearsighted of them all,
often entitle this event the co7mmmal revohition. This expression
hardly gives a correct idea of the fact to which it is applied. The
word remlnU&n^ in the sense or at least the aspect given to it
amongst us by contemporary events, points to the overthrow of
a certain regimen and of the ideas and authority predominant
B 2
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XJX
thereunder, etkI the systematic Gleyation in their stead of a
regimen essential Ij different in principle and in fact. The revo-
Jutions of our day substitute or would fain substitute a republic
for B monarchy, democracy for aristocracy, political liberty for
absolute power. The struggles which from the eleventh to the
foin'teenth century gave existence to so many communes had no
^ucli profound character ; the populations did not pretend to any
^ndamental overthrow of the regimen they attacked ; they con-
spired togt^ther, they swore itujether^ as the phrase is according ta
the documents of the time^ — they rose to extricate themselves from
the outrageous oppression and misery they were enduring, but
not to abolish feudal sovereignty and to change the personality of
their masters, \Vlien they succeeded they obtained those treat-ies
of peace called oharters^ which brought about in the pondition
of the insurgents salutary changes accompanied by more or less
effectual guarantees- When they failed or when the charters
were violated, the result was violent reactions, mutual excesses ;
the relations between the populations and their lords were t^em-
pestuous and full of vicissitude ; but at bottoni neither the political
regimen nor the social systc^m of the communes were altered.
And so there were, at many spots without any connexion between
them, local revolts and civil wars, but no oomnmnal revolution*
One of the earliest facts of this kind which have been set forth
with some detail in history clearly shows their primitive character :
a fact tlie more remarkable in that the revolt described by the
chroniclers originated and i^n its course in the country among
peasants with a view of recovering complete independence and not
amongst an urban population with a view of resulting in the erec-
tion of a commune. Towards the end of the tenth century, under
Richard IL, duke of Normandy, called the Good, and whilst the
good Ki/uj Robert was reigning in France, "In sevei'al countships
of Normandy," says William of Jumi%e, *'all the peasants, assom^
blihg in their conventicles, resolved to live according to their in-
clinations and their own laws, as well in the interior of the forests
as along the rivers, and to reck naught of any est-ablished right.
To carry out this purpose these mobs of madmen chose each two
deputies, who were to form at some central point an aseerably
\
CmAF. XIXO THE COMMUNES AND THE THIED ESTATE.
cliargied to see to tUe execution of theu^ decrees. As soon as the duke
{fiicUaitl II,) was intbrmed thereof^ bo sent a largo body of men-ut-^
iS to repress tUia uudaciDusness of tbe cuuiitry districts and to
ter tbis rustic assemblage. In execution of bis orders, the depu-
tiea of the peasants and many other rebels were forthwith arrested,
their feet and hands were cut off, and they were sent away thus mu-
tilated to theii' homes, in order to deter their like from such enter-
prisee and to make them wiser, for fear of worse. After this experience
tbe peasants left off their meetings and returned to their plouglis.'^
It was about eighty years after the event when the monk WilKara
af Jumti^ge told the story of this insurrection of peasants so long
Ulterior, and yet Eo similar to that which more than three ceutmnes
afterwards broke out in nearly the whole of Northern France, and
which was called the Jcicquery* Less than a century after
William of Juniifcge a Norman poet, Robert Wace, told the same
story in his Mommiee of Rmi, a history in verse of RoUo and the
fiist dukes of Normandy: **The lords do us naught but ill,'* he
tziakea the Norman peasants say : " with them we have nor gain
nor profit from our labours ; every day is for us a day of suffering,
of travail and of fatigue ; every day our beasts are taken from u^
ioT forced labour and services . . - , why put up witli all this evit,
and why not get quit of travail ? Are not we men even as they
are r Have we not the same stature, the same limbs, the same
atoength — for suffering? Bind we ourselves by oath; swear we
to aid one another ; and if they be minded to make war on us have
we not for every knight thirty or foi ty young peasants ready and
willing to fight with club or boar^spear or aiTOW or axe or stones if
tbey ha%*e not arms ? Learn we to resist the knights, and we shall
be free to hew down trees, to hunt game, and to fish after our fashion,
and we shall work our will on flood and in field and wood,"
These two passages have already been quoted in Chapter xiv- of
this history in the course of describing the general condition of
France under the Gapetians before the crusades, and they are
agatn brought forward here because they express and paint to the
Ufe the chief cause which from the end of tbe teuth century led to
io many insurix'ctions amongst the rural as well as urban popula-
tions and brought about the establishment of so many communes.
6
HISTORY OP FRANCE,
[Chap. XIT.
We saytlie chief cause only, because oppression and insurrection
were not the sole origin of the communes. Evil, moral and raate-
Tialj abounds in human communities, but it never has the sole do-
minion there; force never di^ves justice into utter banishment^ and
the ruffianly violence of the strong never stifles in all hearts every
sympathy /op the weak. Two causes, quite distinct from feudal
oppression, viz. Roman traditions and Christian Bentiments, had
their share in the formation of the communes and in the beneficial
results thereof.
The Roman municipal regimen, which is described in M, Guizot's
Eiisais BUT rHistoire de Prance (1st Essay, pp. 1 — i4), did not every
where perish with the empire; it kept its footing in a great number
of towns, especially in those of Southern Gaid, Marseilles^ ArleSj
Nisraes, Narbonnej Toulouse^ &c. At Aries the municipality
actually bore the name of commune {communitas)^ Toulouse gave
her municipal magistrates the name of Capiiouh^ after the Capitol
of Rome, and in the greater part of the other towns in the South
they wei*e called CanmU.s, After the great invasion of barbarians
from the seventh to the end of the eleventh century, the existence
of these Roman mimicipalities appears but rarely and confusedly
in history ; but in this there is notliing pecuHar to the towns and
the municipal regimen, for confusion and obscurity were at that
time universal, and the nascent feudal system was plunged therein
as well as the dying little municipal systems were. Many Roman
municipahties were still subsisting without influencing any event
of at all a general kind and without leaving any trace ; and as the
feudal system grew and grew they still went on in the midst of
universal darkness and anarchy* They had penetrated into the
north of Gaul in fewer numbers and with a weaker organization
than in the south, but still keeping their footing and vaunting
themselves on their Roman origin in the face of their barbaric
conquerors. The inhabitants of Rheims remembered with prido
tliat their mimicipal magistracy and its jurisdiction were antarior
to Clovis, dating as they did from before the days of St. Remigius,
the apostle of the Franks- The burghers of Metz boasted of having
enjoyed civil rights before there was any district of Lorraine :
** Lorraine," said they, ** is young, and Metz is old." The city
Cbaf, xix:] the communes and the third estate. 9
of Boiirgea was on© of the most complete examples of siicces-
sive transformations and denominations attained by a Roman
municipality from the sixtli to the tlilrU'^enth century under the
ifero\'ingiaii8, the CarloTngianSi and the earliest Capoiiau», At
the time of the invasioa it had arenas, an amphitheatre, and all
tliat charact'Orizcd a Roman city* In the seventh oontury, th^
author of the life of St, Estadiola, born at Bourges, says that ** she
waa the child of iUustrious parents who, as worldly diginty ia
accounted, were notable by reason of iiemitori4d rank; and Gregory
of Tours quotes a judgment delivered by the pmwtpah {/m>/*on«)
of the city of Bourges. Coins of the time of Charles the Bald are
struck with the name of the city of Bourges and its inhabitants
(Biluruje^)^ In 1107, under PhiUp L, the members of the muni-
cipal body of Bourges are named pra^Vhammes. in two chart-ers,
one of Louis the Young, in 1145, and the other of Philip AuguBtus,
in 1218, the old stmatars of Bourges have the name at one
time of bom twmme^j at another of hannm of the city. Under
different names, in accordance with changes of languagt^, the
Boman municipal regimen held on and adapted itself to new
rfal conditions.
In our own day there has been far too much inclination to dispute,
and M* Augustin Thierry has, in M. Gui350t*a opinion, made far too
little of, the active and effective part played by the kingship in the
formation and protection of the French communes. Not only did
the kings, m we shall presently see, often interpose as mediators
in the quarrels of the communes witli their laic or ecclesiastical
lortis, but many amongst them assumed in their own domains and to
the profit of the communes an intelligtmt and beneficial initiativD,
The city of Orleans was a happy example of this. It was of
mncient data, and had prospered under the Boman empire ; never-
theless the continuance of the Roman municijml regimen does not
appear there clearly as wo have just seen that it did in the case of
Bourges ; it is chiefly from the middle ages and their kings that
Orleans held its municipal franchises and its privileges; they never
nised it to a commune^ propt^rly so called, by a charter sworn to and
guaranteed by independent institutions, but they set honestly to
work to prevent local oppression, to reform abuses, and make
•10
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CflAP.XIX
justice prtjvail there. From 1051 to 1281 there are to be found io
the Eei'iteil den ortkmnance^ dm row seven important charters relating
to Orleans. In 1051, at the deniaud of the people of Orleans and
its bishopj who appears in the charter as the head of the people,
the defender of the citify Henry I, secures to the inhabitants of
Orlejins freedom of labour and of going to and fro during the
vinfeiges, and interdicts his agents from exacting any Uiing upon
the entry of wines. From 1137 to 1178, during ihe administratioii
of Suger, Louis the Young in four successive ordinances gives, in
respect of Orleans, precisG guarantees for freedom of trade, security
of person and propertyj and the internal peace of the city ; and in
1183 Philip Augustus exempts from all talHage, that is, from all
liersonal impost, the present and future inhabitants of Orleans, and
grants them divers privileges, amongst others that of not going to
law-courts farther from their homes than Etampos. In 1281 Pliilip
the Bold renews and confirms the concessions of Philip Augustus*
Orleans was not, within the royal domain, the only city where
the kings of that period were careful to favour the progress of
the population, of wealth and of security; several other cities and
even less considerable burghs obtained similar favour ; and in 1 165
X»ouis the youDg, probably in confirmation of an act of Ids father
Louis the Fat, granted to the little town of Lorris, in Qatinais
(now-a-days chief place of a canton in the department of the Loiret)^
a clxarter, full of detail, which regulated its interior regimen in
financial, commercial Judicial, and miHtary matters, and secured to
all its inhabitants good conditions in resiiect of civil hfe. Thiii
charter was in the course of the twelfth century regai'ded as so
favourable that it was demanded by a great number of toinis and
Imrghsi the king was asked for tJte custoins of Lornif (c&ihH^iw-
iudines - Lauraciejisc^)^ and in the space of fifty years they were
granted to seven towns, some of them a considerable distance from
Orleanness. The towns wliich obtained them did not become by
this qualification communes properly so called in the special and
liistorical sense of the word ; they had no jurisdiction of their own,
no independent magistracy; they had not their own government
in tlicir hands ; the king's officers, provosts, bailiffs, or others, were
the only persons who exercised there a real and decisive power-
I
Cbap. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
II
But the king's promises to the inhabitants^ the rights which he\
authorized them to claim fVora him, and the rules which he imposed
upon his oificers in their goveruraeut, were not concessions which
were of no value or which remained without fruit. As we follow
in tlie conrse of our history the towns which, without having been
raised to communes properly so called, had obtained advantsagee of
that kind, we see them developing and growing in population and
Health, and sticking more and more closely to tliat kingship from
wliich they had received their privilogesj and which, for all its
imperfect observance and even frequent violation of promises, was
neveHhelesa accessible to complaint, repressed from time to time
the misbehaviour of its officers, renewed at need and even extended
privileges, and, in a word, promoted in its administration the pro-
gross of civilization and the counsels of reason, and thus attached
the burghers to itself without recognizing on. their side those
positive rights and those guarantees of administrative indepen-
dence which are in a perfectly and solidly constructed social fabric
the foundation of political Hberty<
Nor was it the kings alone who in the middle ages listened to
the oounsels of reason, and recognized in their behaviour towards
their towns the rights of justice. Many bishops had become the
feudal lords of the episcopal city ; and the Christian spirit enlight-
ened and animated many amongst them just as the monarchical
^irit sometimes enlightened and guided the kings « Troubles had
amen in the town of Carabrai between the bishops and the people,
** There was amongst the members of the metropolitan clergy,'*
aays M. Augustine Thierry, *' a certain Bandri do Sarchftin\nlle, a
native of Artois, who bad the title of chaplain of the bishoprick
He was a man of high character and of wise and reflecting mind.
He did not share the violent aversion felt by most of his order for
^8 intititution of communes. He saw in this institution a sort of
neoessity beneath which it would be inevitable sooner or later,
willy nilly, to bow, and he thought it was better to siu-render to
the wishes of the citizens than to shed blood in order to postpone
for awhUe an unavoidable revolution. Iij 1098 he was elected
bishop of Noyon, He found this town in the same state in which
he had seen that of Cambrai* The burghers were at daily logger^
12
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XIX.
heads with the metropolitan clergy, and the registers of the ChtircTi
conta^ined a host of documents entitled * Peace made between us
and the burghers of Noyon/ But no reconciliation was lasting;
the truce was soon broken, either by the clergy or by the citizens
who were the more touchy in that they had less security for their
persons and their property. The new bishop thought that tl
establishment of a commune sworn to by both the rival parties'
might become a sort of compact of alliance between them, and lie
set about reiilizing this noble idea before the word cmnmune had
served at Noyon as the rallying cry of popular insmrection. Of
his own mere motion he convoked in assembly all the in habi taints
of the town, clergy, knights, tiBders, and craftsmen. He pi
sen ted them with a charter which constituted the body of burghers'
an association for ever under magistrates called jun/nimi like
those of Cambrai, ' Whosoever,* said the charter, ' shall desire
to enter this commune shall not be able to be received as a member
of it by a single individual, but only in the presence of the jury-
men. The sum of money he shall then give shall be employed for
the benefit of the town, and not for the private advantage of any
one whatsoever. If the commune be outraged, all those who have
sworn to it shall be bound to march to its defence, and none shall
be empowered to remain at home unless he be infirm or sick^ or so
poor that he must needs be himself the watcher of his own wife
and children lying sick. If any one have wounded or slain any
one on the territory of the commune the jurymen shall take
vengeance therefor.' " "
The other articles guarantee to the members of the conimun©
of Noyon the complete ownership of their property, and the right of
not being handed over to justice save before their own municipal
magistrates. The bishop first swore to this charter, and the
inhabitants of every condition took the same oath afl^r liir
In virtue of his pontifical authority he pronounced the anathema^
and all the curses of the Old and New Testament, against who-
ever should in time to come dare to dissolve the commune or
infringe its regulations. Furthermore, in order to give this nei
pact a stronger warranty, Baudri requested the king of France^'
Louis the Fat, to corroborate it, as they used to say at the time»
I
I
I
ft
I
ft
JChap. XIX] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. IS
Bis approbation and by the great seal of the crown. The
fcixig consented to this request of the bishop^ and that was all the
part taken by Louis the Fat in the establishment of the commnntf
of Noyon. The king*s charter is not preserved, but, under the
date of 1108, there is extant one of the bishop's own, which may
serve to snbstantiat© the account given :—
" Bandri, by the grace of God bishop of Noyon, to all those who
do persevere and go on in the faith :
"Most dear brethren, we learn by the example and words of the
holy Fathers, that all good things ought to be committed to
writing for fear lest hereafter they come to bo forgotten* Know
then aU Christians present and to come, that I have formed at
Noyon a commune, constituted by the counsel and in an assembly
of clergy, knights, and burghers; that I have confirmed it by oath,
by pontifical authority and by the bond of anathema, and that
I have prevailed upon our lord King Louis to grant this commune
and corroborate it with the king's seal. This establishment formed
by me, sworn to by a great number of persons, and granted by the
ting, let none be so bold as to destroy or alter ; I give warning
thereof, 6n behalf of God and myself, and I forbid it in the
name of pontifical authority. Whosoever shall transgress and violate
the present law, bo subjected to excommunication ; and whosoever,
oa the contrary, shall faithfully keep it, be preserved for ever
amongst those who dwell in the house of the Lord/*
Tliis good example was not without fruit. The communal
a*giraen was established in several towns, notably at St, Quentin
and at Soissons, without trouble or violence, and with one accord
amongst the laic and ecclesiastical lords and the inhabitants ,
W0 arrive now at the third and chief source of the communes,
at the case of those which met feudal oppression with energetic
retistance, and which after all the sufferings, vicissitudes and
outrages, on both sides, of a prolonged struggle ended by win-
ning a veritable administrative and, to a certain extent, political
independence* The number of communes thus formed from the
eleventh to the thirteenth century was great, and we have a
^tailed history of the fortunes of several amongst them, 0am-
brai, Beauvais, Laon, Amiens, Rheims, Btampes, Vezelay, &c. To
la
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap, XIX.
give a correct and vivid picture of them we will ctoose the com-
mune of Laon which was one of those whose fortunes were most
chequered as well as most tragic^ and which after more than two
centuries of a very tempestuous existence was sentenced to complete
abolition, first by Philip the Handsome j then bj Philip the Long and
Charles the Handsome, and, finally, by Philip of Valois, ** for certain
misdeeds and excesses notorious, enormous, and detestable, and on
full deUberation of our council/* The early portion of the histoiy
connected with the commune of Laon has been narrated for us by
Guibert, an abbot of Nogent-sous-Coucy, in the diocese of Laon, a
cont-emporarj wi*iter, sprightly and bold. ** In all that I have
written and am still writing/' says he, " I dismiss all men from
my mind, caring not a whit about pleasing any body* I have
taken my side in the opinions of the worlJ, and with calmness
and indifference on my own account I expect to be exposed to all
sorts of language, to be as it were beaten with rods, I proceed
with my task, being fully purposed to bear with equanimity the
judgments of all who come snarling after me/*
Laon was at the end of the eleventh century one of the most
important towns in the kingdom of France, It was fuU of
rich and industrious inhabitants; the neighbouring people came
thither for provisions or diversion ; and such concourse led to the
greatest disturbances. '' The nobles and their servitors," saya
M. Augustin Thierry, "sword in hand, committed robbery upon
the burghers ; the streets of the town were not safe by night or
even by day, and none could go out without running a risk of
being stopped and robbed or killed. The burghers in their turn
committed violence upon the peasants, who came to buy or soil at
the market of the town," " Let me give as example," says
GuibertofNogent,"a single fact, which had it taken place amongst
the Barbarians or the Scythians, would assuredly have been con-
sidered the height of wickedness, in the judgment even of those
who recognize no law. On Saturday the inhabitants of the
country *places used to leave their fields, and come from all sides
to Laon to get provisions at the market. The townsfolk used
then to go round the place carrying in baskets or bowls or
otherwise samples of vegetables or grain or any other article, as if
Chap. XIX.] THE COMMUNKS AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
17
\
they ^shed to sell. They would offer them to the first peasant
who was iQ search of such things to buy ; he would promise to pay
the price ag:*eed upon ; and then the seller would say to the buyer,
* Come with me to my house to see and examine the whole of the
articles I am selling you.' The other would go ; and then, when
they came to the bin containing the goods, the honest seller would
takeoff and hold up the lid, saying to the buyer, ' St^^p hither, and
put your head or arms into the bin to make quite sure that it is
all exactly the same goods as I showed you outside/ And then
when the other, jumping on to the edge of the bin, remained
k'auing on his bellj, with his head and slioiddera hanging down,
the worthy seller, who kept in the roar, would hoist up the
thoughtless rustic by the foefc, push him suddenly into the bin,
aod, clapping on the lid as be fell, keep him shut up in this safe
prison until he had bought himself out."
In 1100 the bishopric of Laon had been two years vacant. It
was sought after and ol>tained for a sum of money, say contempo-
raries, by Gaudri, a Norman by birth, referendary of Henry I*,
king of England, and one of tliose Churchmen who, according
to M, Augustin ThieiTy's expression, '* had gone iu the train
of William the Bastard to seek their fortunes amongst the EngHsh
by seizing the property of the vanquished/* It appears that
thenceforth the life of Gaudri had been scarcely edifying ; he had,
it is said, the tastes and habits of a. soldier ; he was hasty and
arrogant, and he Uked beyond every thing to talk of fighting and
bunting, of arms, of horses, and of hounds. When he was re-
piirtog with a numerous following to Rome, to ask for con-
finiiation of his election, he met at Langres Pope Pascal II.,como
to France to keep the festival of Christmas at the abljey of
Cluny, The pope had no doubt heard, something about the in-
different reputation of the new bishop foi", the very day after
his arrival at Langres, he held a conference with the ecclesias-
tics who had accompanied Gaudri and pMed them with questions
concerning him. " He asked us first/' says Guibert of Nogent,
who was in the train, ** why we had chosen a man who was
unknown to us- As none of the priests, some of whom did not
know even the first rudiments of the Latm language, made any
c
18
HISTOHY OF FRANOR
[CHAr, XIX.
answer to this qLiestion, he turned to the abbots. I was seated
between my two colloagues* As they likewise kept silence, I
began to be urged, riglitand left, to speak* I was oae of those
whom this election had displeased; but with culpable timidity I
had yielded to the authority of my superiors in dignity. With tlie
bash fulness of youth I could only with great difficulty and much
blusliing prevail upon myself to open my mouth. The discussion
was carried on not in our mother- tongue but in the language
of scholars. I therefore, though with great confusion of niind
and face, betook myself to speaking in a manner to tickle tho
palate of hira who was questioning us, wrapping up in artfully
arranged form of speech esipresBions which wei'o soft^*ned down,
but were not entirely reraovGd from the truth. I said that wo did
not know, it was true, to tho extent of having been fainihar by
sight and intercourse with him, the man of whom we had made
choice, but that we had received favourable reports of his integrity.
The pope strove to confound my arguments by this quotation from
the Gos{)el : " He that hath seen giveth testimony/* But as he
did not expHcitly raise tlie objection that Gauilri had been elected
by^ desii^ of the court, all subtle subterfuge on any such point
became useless ; so I gave it up, and confessed that I could say
nothing in opposition to the pontiff *s words; which pleased him
very muchj for he had less scholarship than would have become
his high office. Cleiirly perceiving, however, that all the phrases
I had jiiled up in defence of our election had but little weight, I
launched out afterwards upon the urgent straits wherein oui' Cliurch
was placed, and on this subject I gave myself the more rein in
proportion as tho person elected was unfitted for the functions
of the ei»iseopate.**
Gaudri was iudtHnl very scantily fitted for the office of bishop,
an tht^ Unvn of Imoii was nut slow to perceive. Scarcely had he
been installed when ho committ^^d strange outmges. He had a
inan*8 eyes put out on suspicion of connivance with his enemies ;
and he t^ilerated the murder of another in the metropohtan church.
In imitation of rich crusaders on their return from the East he kept
a blaek slave, whom he employed upon his deeds of vengeance.
The biiiTghers bogun to be disquieted, and to wax wroth. During
CsAe. XrX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THHID ESTATE.
19
I
a trip the bishop made to England, they offered a great deal of
money to the clergy and knights who ruled in his absence, if they
wduJd consent to recogiiize by a genuine Act the right of the
DOinmonalty of the inhabitants to bo governed by authorities of
their own choice, "The clergy and knights/' says a contemporary
chronicler, ** came to an agreement with the common folk in hopes
of enriching tliemselyos in a speedy and easy fashion," A commune
wa^ therefore set up and proclaimed at Laon, on the model
of that of Noyon, and invested with effective powers. The
bishop, on his return, was very wroth, and for some days
abstained from re-entering the town. But the burghers acted
srifch him as they had with his olergy and the knights : they
offered him so large a sum of money that '' it was enough/* says
Guibert of Nogent, " to appease the tempest of his words.'* He
iccepted the communCj and swore to respect its The burghers
flrished to have a higher warranty ; so they sent to Paris to King
Louis the Fata deputation laden with rich presents. ** The king/'
says the chronicler, ** won over by this plebeian bounty, confirmed
the oomraune by his own oath/' and the deputation took back to
Laon their charter sealed with the great seal of the crown, and
aogmented by two articles to the following purport ; " The folks of
Laon shaU not be liable to be forced to law away from their town ;
if the king have a suit against any one amongst them justice shall
be done him in the episcopal court. For these advantages and
others fiurther gninted to the aforesaid inhabitants by the king's
manificence the folks of the commune hq-ve covenanted to give the
kingj besides the old plenary court dues, and man-and-horse dues
[ium paid for exemption from active service in case of war], three
lodgings a year, if he come to the town, and, if he do not comei they
will pay him instead twenty livi^es for each lodging/'
For three years the town of Laon was satisfied and tranquil ; the
burghers were happy in the security they enjoyed and proud of
the Uberty they had won. But in 1112 the knights, the clergy of
the metropolitan church and the bishop himself had spent the
money they had received, and keenly regretted the power they had
lost; and they meditated reducing to the old condition the serfs
<mancipatod fi-om the yoke. The bishop invited King Lo^is the Fat
20
mSTOEY OF FEANCE.
[Chai. XIX.
to come to Laon for the keeping of Holy Week, calculating upon his
presence for the intimidation of tlie burghers. *^ But the burghers
who were in fear of riiin," says Guibert of Nogent, " promised
the King and those about him 400 lirres or morOj I am not quite
flure which ; whilst the bishop and the grandees^ on their side,
urged the monarch to come to an understanding with them, and
engaged to pay him 700 livres. King Louis was so striking in
person that he seemed made expressly for the majesty of tha
throne ; he was courageous in war, a foe to all slowness in business,
and stout-hearted in adversity; sound, however, as he was on
every other point, he was hardly praiseworthy in this one respect
that he opened too readily both heart and ear to vile fellows
corrupted by avarice. This vice was a fruitful source of hurt as
well as blame to himself, to say nothing of unhappiness to many.
The cupidity of this prince always caused him to incline towards
those who promised him most. All Ms own oaths and those of
the bishops and the grandees were consequently violated.'* The
charter sealed with the king's seal was annulled ; and on the part of
the king and the bishop an order was issued to all the magistrates
of the commune to cease from their functions, to give up the seal
and banner of the town, and to no longer ring the belfry-chiraea
which rang out the opening and closing of their audiences- But
at this proclamation so violent was the uproar in the town, that
the king^ who had hitherto lodged in a private hotel, thought it
prudent to leave, and go to pass the night in the episcopal palace,
which was surrounded by strong walls* Not content with this
precaution, and probably a little ashamed of what he had done, he
left Laon the nest morning at daybreak, with aU his train, without
waiting for the festival of Easter, for the celebration of wluch he
had luidertakeii his journey.
All the day after his departure the shops of the tradespeople
and the houses of the innkeepers were kept closed; no sort of
article was offered for sale ; every body remained shut up at home-
But when tliere is wrath at tlio bottom of m^n^s eouls, the silence
and stupor of the first paroxysm aie of short duration. Next day
a rumour spread that the bishop and the grandees were busy " in
calculating the fortunes of all the citizens, in order to demand that.
Chap. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
21
I
to supply the som promised to tlie King, eacli should paj on
account of the dcstructioB of the commune as much as each had
given for its establishment." In a fit of violent indiguation the
burghers assembled ; and forty of them bound themselves by oath,
for life or death, to kiU the bishop and all those grandees who had
laboured for the ruin of the commune. The archdeacon, Anselra,
a good sort of man, of obscm^e birth, who heartily disapproved of
the bishop's perjury, went nevertheless and warned him, quite
priyately and without betraying any one, of the danger that
threatened him, urging him not to leave his house, and particularly
not to accompany the procession on Easter-day. ^* Pooh ! "
answered the bishop, ** / die by the hands of such fellows I *'
Next day, nevertheless, he did not appear at matins and did
sot set foot within the church ; but when the hour for the pro-
cession came, fearing to be accused of cowardice, ho issued
forth at the head of his clergy, closely followed by his domestics
and some knights with arms and armour under their clothes • As
the company filed past, one of the forty conspirators, thinking the
moment favourable for striking the blow, rushed out suddenly from
under an arch with a shout of ** Commtme ! cmnmune ! " A low
mormur ran through the throng; but not a soid joined in the
shout or the movement, and the ceremony came to an end without
mj explosion. The day after, another solemn procession was to
take place to the church of St. Vincent. Somewhat reassured,
bat still somewhat disquieted, the bishop fetched from the domains
of the bishopric a body of peasants, some of whom he charged to
protect the church, others his own palace, and once more accom-
panied the procession witliout the conspirators' daring to attack
him* This time he was completely reassured and dismissed the
peasants he had sent for. " On the fourth day after Easter,"
gays Guibert of Nogent, '* my coi'n having been pillaged in conse-
quence of the disorder that reigned in the txjwn, I repaired to the
bishop's, and prayed him to put a stop to this state of violence,
' What do you suppose,' said he to me, ^ those fellows can do with
all their outbreaks ? Why if my blackamoor John were to pull the
nose of the most formidable amongst them the poor devil durst
not even grumble. Have I not forced them to give up what they
4
22
mSTORY OF FRANCE.
[CfiAi. XIX
called their commune, for the whole duration of my life?' I
liekl my tongue," adds Giiibert ; ** many folks besides me wamnd
bim of his danger ; but \m would not deign to believe any body/'
Three days later all seemed quiet; and the bishop was bnny
witli his archdeacon in discui^Bing tlie sums to be exact^l froni the
biH'ghers, All at once a tumult arose in the town ; and a crowd of
people thronged the streetSs shouting ^^ Oommtme f cmmnuiier'
Bands of burghers armed wth swords, axes, bows, hatchets, clubs,
and lances, rushed into the episcopal palace. At the news of this,
the knights who had promised the bishop to go to his assistance if he
needed it came up one after another to his protection ; and three
of them, in succession, were hotly attacked by the burgher bamls,
and fell after a short resistance^ The episcopal palace was set on
fire- The bishop, not being in a condition to repulse the asftaiilt!*
of the populace, assumed the dress of one of his own domes! icis
fled to the cellar of the church, shut himself in and osconcA*d
himself in a cask, the bung%hole of which was stopped tip by ft
faithful servitor. The crowd wandered about every where
in search of him on whom they wished to wreak their Tengeance.
A bandit named Ten t gaud, notorious in those times for bis
robberies, assaults and murderB of travellers^ had thrown himwlf
headlong into the cause of the commune. The bishop, who
knew him, had by way of plctasantry and on account of his ovil
mien given him the nick*name of Ismfjrin, This was the tianne
which was given in the fables of the day to the wolf, and which
corresponded to that of Mn^frr Uq/nfinl, Teutgaud and his men
penetrated into the cellar of the cliurch ; they went along tapping
upon all the casks; and on what suspicion there is no knowing,
but Teutgaud lialted in front of that in which the bishop was
huddled up, and had it opened, crying ** Is there any one here ?"
" Duly a poor prisoner/' answered the liishop trembling, ** Ha I
hal*' said tlie playful bandit, who recogni7,e*l the voice, ** so it is
you^ Master h*^mjnn^ wlu> are hiding here !** And he took him by
the hair, and dragged him out of his cask. The bishop implored
the conspirators to spare his life, oftering to swear on the Gospels
to abdicate the bishopric, pronnsing them all the money he
possessed, and saying that if thoy pleased lie would leave the
, XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
25
I
eoiantiy- The reply was insults and blows, He was immediately
Aosptched; and Teiitgaud, seeing the episcopal ring glitteriDg on
liis finger, cut off the finger to get possession of the ring- The
body, stripped of all covering, was thrust into a corner, where
passers-by threw stones or mud at it, accompanying their insults
^th ribaldry and curses,
Morder and arson are contagious. All the day of the insur-
rtjction and all the following night armed bands wandered about
tlie streets of Laon searclxing every where for relatives, friends,
or servitors of the bishop, for all whom the angry populace knew or
Bup|>08ed to be suchj and wi^eaking on their persons or their
houses a ghastly or a brutal vengeance. In a fit of terror many*
poor innocents fled before the blind wrath of the populace ; some
wem caught and cut down pell-mell amongst the guilty ; others
«4iped through the vineyards planted between two hills in the
ptekirts of the town, " The progress of the fire, kindled on two
s at once, was so i-apid,*' says Guibert of Nogont, ** and the
winds drove the flames so furiously in the direction of the convent
of St. Vincent, that the monks were afraid of seeing all they
possessed become the fire's prey, and all the persons who had
taken refuge in this monastery trembled as if they had seen
Bvords hanging over their heads,^* Some insurgents stopped '
a young man who had been body-servant to the bishop, and asked
him whether the bishop had been killed or not; they knew
nothing about it, nor did he know any more ; he helped them
to look for the corpse, and when they came upon it, it had been
10 mutilated that not a feature was recognizable, '^ I remember,"
said the young man, ** that when the prelate was alive ho hked to
talk of deeds of war, for which to his hurt he always showed too
mach bent ; and he often used to say that one day in a sham fight
juHt as be was, all in the way of sport, attacking a certain knight,
the latter hit him with his lance, and wounded him under the neck
near the tracheal artery/* The body of Gaudri was eventually
r*3€0gmzed by tins maik, and *' Archdeacon Anselm went the next
day," says Guil>ert of Nogent, " to beg of the insurgents permis-
mn at least to bury it, if only because it had once borne the title
wid worn the insignia of bishop. They consented, but reluctantly.
HI8T0RT OF PRANCE.
[ObakXIX.
It were impossible to tell how tnany threats and insults wero
launched against those who undertook the obsequies, and what
outrageous language was vented against the dead himself. His
coipse was thrown into a lialf-d«g hole, and at cbui*eli there was
none of the prayers or ceremonies prescribed for the btirial of^
I will not say a bishop, but the worst of Christians." A few days
afterwards Raoul^ archbishop of Rheims, came to Laon to purify
the church* *' The wise and venerable archbishop/' says Guib^^,
, ** aftei' liaving, on his arrival, seen to more decently disposing the
remains of some of the dead and celebrated divine service in
memoiy of all, amidst the tears and utter grief of their relatives
•and connexions^ suspended the holy sacrifice of the maeg, in order
to deliver a discourse, touching those execrable institutions of
communes, whereby we see serfs, contrary to all right and justice,
withdrawing themselves by force from the lawful authority of
their masters/*
Here is a striking instance of the changeableness of men's
feelings and judgments ; and it causes a shock even when it is
natural and almost allowable* Guibert of Nogent, the contem-
porary hist4>rtan, who was but lately loud in his blame of the
hisho]) of Laon's character and oonduct, now takes sides with the
reaction aroused by popular excesses and vindictiveness, and is
indignant with " those execrable institutions of communeSi'* the
source of so many disturbances and crimes. The burghers of
Laon themselvesj -'having reflected upon the number and enormity
of the crimes they had coram itted, shrank up with fear," says
Guibert, *' and dreaded the judgment of the king/' To protect
themselves against the consequences of bis resentment, they ailded
a fresh wound to the old by suniinoning to their aid Thomas de
Marie, son of liord Enguerrand de Ooucy. '* Tliis Thomas, fi'om
his earliest youth, enriched himself by phmdering the poor and the
pilgrim, contracted several incestuous marriages, and exJiibiteil a
ferocity so unheard of in our age that certain people, even
amongst those who have a reputation for cruelty, appear less
lavish of the blood of common sheep than Thomas was of human
blood. Such was the man whom the burghers of Laon implored
to come and put himself at their bead, and whom they welcomt?d
CbakXIX.] the communes and the third estate. 27
^^tli joy when be entered their town. As for him, when he hayrl
J:^eiird their reqtiest, he consulted his own people to know what
Jt:»e ought to do ; and thoy all ropUed that his furcos were not suffi-
iic^iently iiunieroiis to defend such a city against the king. ThoniaR
^ lien induced the burghers to go out and hold a meeting in a field
"^^swliere be would make* known to them his plan. When they were
smbout a mile from the town, he said to them ; * Laon is the head
^zjf the kingdom ; it is impossible for me to keep the king from
t^iiaking himself master of it. If you dread his arms, follow me
to my own land, and you will find in me a protector and a friend.'
These words throw them into an excess 0f consternation ; soonhow-
CTer the popular party, troubled at tho recollection of the crime they.
had committed, and fancying they already saw the king threatening
• their lives, fled away to the number of a great many in the wake
of Thomas* Teutgaud himself, that murderer of Bishop Gaudri,
liastened to put himself under the wing of tho loi'd of Marie. Before
long the rumour spread abroad amongst the population of the
eoimtry-places near Laon that that town was quite empty of inha-
bitants ; and all the peasants rushed thither and took possession of
tlie houses they found without defenders. Wlio could tell or be
believed if be were to attempt to tell how much money, raiment,
and provision of all kinds was discovered in this city ? Before
long there arose between the first and last comers disputes about
the partition of their plunder ; all that the small folks had taken
,10Dn passed into the hands of the powerful; if two men met a
Huid quite alone they stripped him ; the state of the town was
tpifly pitiable. The burghers who had quitted it with Thomas de
Marie bad beforehand destroyed and burnt the houses of the clergy
and grandees whom they hated ; and now the grandees, escaped from
tie massacre, carried off in their turn from the houses of the
fugitives all means of sidDsistence and all movables to the very
liingi's and bolts."
The mmour of so many disasters, crimes, and reactions succeeding
one another spread I'apidly throughout all districts, Thomas de
Marie was put under the ban of the kingdom, and visited with excom-
mimication '* by a general assembly of the Church of the Gauls>" says
riiiibeil of Nogent^ " assembled at Beauvais ;'* and this sentence was
28
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XIX.
read every Sunday after mass in all the metropolitan and parocliial
churches. Public feeling against Tliomas de Marie became so strong
that EngueiTand do Boves, lord of Coucy, who passed, says Suger,
for his father, joined those who declared war against him in the
name of Church and King. Louis the Fat took the field in person
against him* " Men-at-arms, and in very small numbers, too,"
says Guibert of Nogent, " were with difficulty induced to second
the Idng and did not do so heartily; but the light-armed infantr}^
made up a considerable force, and the archbishop of Rlteims and
the bishops had summoned all the people to this expedition, whilst
offering to all absolution fi^om their sins. Thomas de Marie, though
at that time helpless and stretched upon his bed, was not sparing of
scoffs and insults towards his assailants ; and at first he absolutely
refused to listen to the king's summons." But Louis persistt^d
without wavering in his enterprise, exposing himself freely and
in person leading liis infantry to the attack when the men-at-arraa
did not CO mo on or bore themselves slackly. He carried sucoos^
sively the castles of Crecy and Nogent, domains belonging to
Thomas de Marie, and at last reduced him to the necessity of
buying himself oft' at a heavy ransom, indemnifying the churches
he had spoiled, giving guarantees for future behaviour, and
earnestly praying for re-admission to the communion of the
faithful. As for those folks of Laon, perpetrators of olr accomplices
in the murder of Bishop Gandri, who had sought refuge with
Thomas de Marie, the king sliowed them no mercy, " He ordered
them,'' says Suger, " to be strung up to the gibbet^ and left for
food to the voracity of kites and crows and vultures."
There are certain discrepancies between the two accounts, both
oontemporaneous, which we possess of this incident in the earliest
years of the twelfth century, one in the Life of Louis the Fat^ hj
Suger, and the other in the Life of fruibert of Nogent ^ by liimself.
They %vill be easily recognized on comparing what was said, after
Sugar, in VoL L of this history (chap, xviii.), with what lias just
been said here after Guibert. But these discrepancies ar© of no
hist^mcal importance, for they make no difierencc in respoctof the
essential facts chamctoristic of social condition at the period and
of the behaviour and position of the actors.
CKiP. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THHID ESTATE. 29
I
Louis the Fat, after his victory over Thomas da Marie and the
^ffVjgitives from Laon, went to Laon with the archbishop of Rheims ;
^*-Tid the presence of the king, whilst restoring power to the foes of
*- lie commune, inspired them no doubt with a little of the spirit of
^fcfcoderationj for there was an interval of peace, during which no
^^ttention was paid to any thing but expiatory ceremonies and the
'X^estoration of the cliurches which had been a prey to the flames,
^She archbishop celebrated a solemn mass for the repose of the souls
K^f those who had perished during the disturbances, and lie preached
m sermon exhorting serfs to submit tliemselves to their masters,
siud warning them on pain of anathema from resistiag by force.
■ The burghers of Laoni however, did not consider every sort of
H reiistanee forbidden, and the lords had no doubt been tanght not to
I provoke it, for in 1128, sixteen years after the murder of Bishop
Gaudri, fear of a fresh insurrection determined his successor to
consent to the institution of a new commune, the chart^T of which
I was ratified by Louis the Fat in an assembly held at Compi^gne.
Only the name of commune did not recur in this charter ; it was
replaced by that of Peace'estahUshmeni ; the territorial boundaries
of the commune were called lyeace-houndaries^ and to designate its
members recourse was had to the formula, All iJiom who have signed
I ihis peace^ The preamble of the charter runs^ "In the name of
B the holy and indivisible Trinity, we Louis, by the grace of God
IttQg of the French, do make known to all our lieges present and to
come that, with the consent of the barons of our kingdom and the
bhabitants of the city of Laon, we have set up, in the said city, a
peace-establishment/' And after having enumerated the limits,
forms and rules of it, the charter concludes with this declaration of
amnesty : '* All former trespasses and oflTences committed before
the ratification of the present treaty are wholly pardoned. If any
one, banished for having trespassed in past time, desire to rettirn
to the to^Ti, he shaD be admitted and shall recover possession of
his property. Excepted from pardon, however, are the thirteen
whose names do follow ;** and then come the names of the thirteen
excepted from the amnesty and still under banishment- *' Perhaps,'*
says M. Augustin Thierry, " these thirteen under banishment, shut
out hr ever from their native town, at the very moment it became
30
HISTORY OF FRAKCE,
[CiiAP, XIX-
free, had been distiuguished amongst all the burghers of Laan by
their opposition to the power of tlie lords ; perhaps they hafi sullied
by deeds of violence this patriotic opposition ; perhaps they had been
taken at hap*hazard to snffer alone for the crimes of their folloir-
oitiifiens/* The second hypothesis appears the most probable ; for
that deeds of violence and cruelty had been committed alternately
by tlie burghers and their foes is an ascertained tact, anil that the
charter of 1128 was really a work of hberal picification is proved
by its contents and wording. After such struggles and at the
moment of their subsidence some of the most violent actors always
bear the burden of the past^ and amongst the most violent some
are oflten the most sincere,
Bor forty-seven years after the charter of Louis the Fat the town
of Laon eiyoyed the internal peace and the communal Uberties it
had thus achieved; but in 1175 a new bisliop> Roger de Ilosoy, a
man of high birtli and related to several of the great lords his
neighbours, took upon himself to disregard the regimen of freedom
established at Laon. The burghers of Laon, taught by experience,
apphed to the king, Louis the Young, and offered liim a sum of
money to grant them a charter of commune. Bishop Roger, " by
himself and through his friends/* says a chronicler, a canon of
ltfM?n» "implored the king to have pity on his Church, and abolish
the serfs^ commune ; but the king, clinging to the promise he had
received of money, would not Us ten to the bishop or his Mends/'
and in 1177 gave the burghers of Laon a charter which confirmed
their peace-establishment of 1128, Bishop Roger, liowever, did
not hold himself beaten. He chiiraed the help of the lonls his
neighbours and renewe<l the war against the buj*ghers of Laon, who
on their side asked and obtained the aid of several communes in
the vicinity. In an access of democmtic rashness, instead of
mwaiting within their walls the attack of their enemies, they
marched out without cavalry to the encounterj ravaging as they
went the lands of the lords whom they suspeck^d of lieing ill*
difiposed towmxls them; but on arriving in front of the bishop*s
allies, "all this rustic multitude,'* says the canon-chronicler,
** terror-stricken at the bare names of the knights they found
MSOmbled, took suddenly to flight, and a great tmmber of tho
I
Chai*. six.] the communes and the third estate.
SI
burghers were massacred before reaching their city." Lfouis the
Young then took the field to help them ; but Baldwin, oount of
Hmault, went to the aid of the bishop of Laon with seven hun-
tlred knights and several thousand infantry. King Louig, aft^r
having occupied and for some time held in scquestmtion the lands
of the bishop, thought it advisable to make peace rather than
coutinue so troublesome a war, and at the intercession of the pope
iiidtlie count of Hainault he restored to Roger de Rosoy bis lands
and his bishopric on condition of living in peace with the com-
miinei And bo long as Louis VII. Uved, the bishop did refrain
from attacking the liberties of the burghers of Laon; but at the
kingg death^ in 1180j ha applied to his successor, Philip Augustus,
ami offered to cede to him the lordsbip of Fere-sur^Oise, of which
fie wm the possessor, provided tliat Philip by cliarter abolished the
commune of Laon* Philip yielded to the temptation, and in 1190
publiahed an ordinance to the following purport: "Desiring to
aroid for our soul every sort of danger, we do entii'ely quash the
eammune established in the town of Laon as being contrary to the
nghtB and liberties of the metropolitan churcli of St. Mary, in re*
gard for justice and for the sake of a happy issue to the pilgi^mago
wbtch we be bound to make to Jerusalem." But next year upon
titnaaiy and offers from the burghers of Laon PhiHp changed his
mmd, and without giving back the lordship of F&re-eur*Oise to the
iisliopi guaranteed and confirmed in perpetuity the peace-establish-
ment granted in 1128 to the town of Laon '* on the condition that
every year at the feast of All Saints they shall pay to us and our
rfticoessors two hundred livres of Paris." For a century all strife of
1^ consequence ceased between the burghers of Laon and their
Visliop ; there was no real accord or good understanding between
tliom, but the public peace was not troubled, and neither the kings
of France nor the great lords of the neighbourhood interfered in
its affairs- In 1 294 some knights and clergy of tlie metropolitan
chapter of Laon took to quarrelling w ith some burghers ; and on
th sides they came to deeds of violence, which caused sanguinary
itruggles in the streets of the town and even in tbe precincts of
the episcopiil palace* The bishop and his chapter applied to the
popo, Boniface VIII., who applied to the king, PhiUp the Hand-
S2
mSTORY OF FRAI^CE.
[Chap. XIX.
some J to put an end to these scaiidaloiis disturbances. Philip the
Handsome, in his turn, appHed to the Parliament of Paris, which,
after inquirj, ** deprived the town of Laon of every right of com-
mune and college, under whatsoever name," The king did not
like to execute this decree in all its rigour. He granted the
burghers of Laon a charter which maintained them provisionally
in the enjoyment of their political rights but with this destructive
clause ; ** Said commune and said shrievalty shall be in force only
so far as it shall be our pleasure." For nearly thirty years, from
Philip the Handsome to Philip of Valois, the bishops and bupgliers
of Laon were in htigation before the crown of France^ the former
for the maintenance of the commune of Laon in its precarious con-
dition and at the king's good pleasure, the latter for the reeoveiy
of its independent and durable character. At last, in 1331, Philip
of Valois, '* considering that the olden commune of Laon, by reason
of certain misdeeds and excesses, notorious, enormous, and de-
testable, had been removed and put down for ever by decree of
the court of our most dear lord and uncle King Philip the Hand*
some, confirmed and approved by our most dear lords. Kings
Philip and Charles, whose souls are with God, we, on great delibe-
ration of our council, have ordained that no commune, corporation,
college, shrievalty, mayor, jurymen or any other estate or symbol
belonging thereto be at any time set up or established at Laon."
By the same ordinance the municipal administration of Laon was
put under the sole authority of the king and his delegates ; and to
blot out all romonibranceof the olden independence of the commune
a later ordinance forbade that the tower from wliioh the two huge
comnmnal bells had been removed should thenceforth be called
belfry-tower.
The history of the commune of Laon is that of the majority of
the towns which in northern and centlral France struggled from
the eleventh to the fourteenth century to release themselves from
feudal oppression and violence. Cambrai, Beauvais, Amiens, Sois-
sons, Bheims, V^zelay, and several other towns displayed at this
period a great deal of energy and perseverance in bringing their
lords to recognize the most natural and the most necessary rights
of every human creature and community. But within their walls
Cbap. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIED ESTATE.
33
t
dissensions were carried to extremity, and existence was ceaselessly
tempestuous and troublous; the burghers were hasty, brutalj and
barbaric, as barbaric as the lords against whom they were de*
fendmg their Hberties. Amongst those mayors, sheriffs, jurats
and magistrates of different degrees and with different titles,
set up in the communes, many c^me before very long to exercise
dombion arbitrarily, violently, and in their own personal interests,
Tlie lower orders were in an habitual stata of jealousy and sedition
of a ruffianly kind towards the rich, the heads of the labour*
market, the controllers of capital and of work. This reciprocal
Tiokiice, this anarchy, these internal evils and dangers with their
incessant renewals called incessantly for intervention from without;
and when, after releasing themselves from oppression and iniquity
eoming from above, the burghers fell a prey to pillage and mas-
sacre coming from belowj they sought for a fresh protector to save
them from this fresh evil- Hence that frequent recourse to the
ting, the^ great suzerain whose authority could keep down the
bad magistrates of the commune or reduce the mob to order ; and
hence also, before long, the progressive downfall, or, at any rate,
the utter enfeeblement of those communal liberties so painfully
wan. France was atthat stage of existence and of civilization at
which security can hardly be purchased save at the price of
liberty. We have a phenomenon peculiar to modem times in the
provident and persistent effort to reconcile security with liberty, and
the bold development of individual powers with the regular mainte-
nanoe of public order. This admirable solution of the social problem,
stBl so imperfect and unstable in our time, was unknown in the
middle ages ; liberty was then so stormy and so fearful that people
conceived before long if not a disgust for it, at any rate a horror
of it, and sought at any price a political regimen which would give
them some security, the essential aim of the social estate. When
we arrive at the end of the thirteenth and the beginning of the
fourteenth century we see a host of communes falling into decay
or entirely disappearing ; they cease really to belong to and govern
iheiuselves; some, like Laon, Cambrai, Beauvais, and Bheims,
fought a long while against decline, and tried more than once to
pe^atabUsh themselves in all their independence; but they could,
\0L, IK D
u
HISTORY OF FKANCK.
[Chai^ XIX.
not do without the king's support in their resistance to their lords,
laic or ecclesiastical ; and they were not in a condition to resist the
kingship which had grown whilst they were perishing. Others,
Meulan and SoisBons for example (in 1320 and 1335), perceived
their weakness early, and themselves requested the kingship to
doUvor them from their communal organization and itself assume
their administration. And so it is about tliis period, under St.
Louis and Philip tho Handsome, that there appear in the collections
of acts of the French kingship^ those great ordinances which
regulate the administration of all communes within the kingly
domains. Hitherto the kings had ordinarily dealt with each town
severally; and as the majority were almost independent or in-
vested with privileges of different kinds and carefully respected,
neither the king nor any great suzerain dreamed of prGscribiug
general rules for communal regimen nor of administering after a
uniform fashion all- the communes in their domains. It was under
St. Louis and Phihp tho Handsome that general regiUations on
this subject began. The French commimes wei*e associations too
small and too weak to suffice for self- maintenance and self-govern-
ment amidst the distm'bances of the great Christian comm unity ;
and they were too numerous and too little enlightened to organize
themselves into one vast confederation capable of gi^'ing thorn
a central government. Tho communal hberties were not in a
condition to found in Franco a great repubhcan community; to
the kiiigship appertained the power and fell the honour of presiding
over the formation and the fortunes of the French nation.
But tlio kingship did not atone accomplish this great work. At
the very time that the communes were |3erishing and the kingship
was gi'owing, a new power, a new social element, the Third Mstnie^
was springing up in France; and it was called to t^ike a far more
important place in the history of France* and to exercise far mure
influence upon the fate of the French ftitherland^ than it hatl been
granted to the communes to acquh'e during their short and inco-
herent existence.
. It may astonish many who study the records of French history
from the eleventh to the fourteenth century, not to find any where
the words fJdrd miak> ; and a desire may arise to know whether those
Chap. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
35
I
I
I
inquirers of our day who have deroted tliemselves professedly to this
particular stvulyj have been more successful in discovering that grand
term at the time when it seems that we ought to expect to meet
with it. The question was, therefore, submitted to a learned
member of the Amdemie den lusenjHions et Belles-lettres^ ^ M, Littr^
m fact, whose Dicitommira etpnolofjtque de la Larufue Fran^aUe is
I'onsulted with respect by tlie wliole literary woi^ld, and to a young
ma^strate, M. Pieot, to whom the Aeadfjmie des Scmices luorahs et
IHilitiqueif but bitely assigned the first prize for his great work on
ibe question it had propounded, as to the history and influence of
States^general in France; and here ai'o inserted^ textually, the
aiUiWei'd given by two gentlemen of so much euUghtenment and
autJiority upon such a subject.
M»Littri5, writing on the 3rd of October, 1871, says, " I do not
find, in my account of the word, third-estate before the sixteenth
century, I quote these two instances of it : ' As to the third order
caUed third estate . . .' (La None, Discourse p, 541); and * clerks
and deputies for the third estate^ same for the estate of labour
(labourm^s) * {C(ni$tu7fder general ^ t, i,, p. 335) • In the fifteenth
century or at the end of the fourteenthj in the poems of Eustace
Dfeschamps, I have—
' Jinnee, da at thou f/earn for good old ttm^s again /
In fjoiid tdd wti^s the Three £sttii€$ restrain J
" At date of fourteenth century, in Du Cange, we read under the,
worii statiiH ; * Per Ires statue vonrllli tjeneralh Prmlatorum^ Baronmtt^
iMlimn et unhyerMtatiim cotnitdtuvij* According to these docu-
m«nts I think it is in the fourteenth century that they began to
call the three orders ires staUts^ and that it was only in the sixteenth,
oeiittii'y that they laegan to speak in French of the tiers estat (third
Utate), But 1 cannot give this conclusion as final, seeing that it is
supported only by the documents I consulted for my dictmnanj"
M. Picot replied on the 3rd of October, 1871, *' It is certain that
acta contemporary with King John, fi^equently speak of the * three,
€itated/ but do not utter the word tiers-etat (third estate)^ The
great chronicles and Froissart say nearly always, *the church-men,
tlio nobles, and the good towns/ The royal ordinances employ the
36
HISTORY OF FRAliCE,
[Chap* XIX,
same terms; but BOmetimes, in order not to limit their enumeration
to the deputies of closed cities, they add^ the good towm^ and the open
country {Ord, U iii- p< 221, note). When they apply to the provincial
estates of the Oil tongue it is the custom to say, fJis burghtn^s and
inhabitants ; when it is a question of the Estates of Languedoc^ l/w5
commonalties of the seneschalty. Such were in the middle of the four*
teenth century the only expressions for designating the third order,
** Under Louis XL, Juvenal des Ursins, in his harangue, addresses
the deputies of the third by the title of burghem and inhahitants of
the good towns* At the States of Tours, the spokesman of the
estateSj John de E^lyj says, tlie people of the common mtate^ tJie estute
of the people^ The special memorial presented to Charles VIII.
by the three orders of Languedoc likewise uses the word people*
** It is in Masselln's report and the memorial of grieyances pre-
sented in 1485 that I meet for the first time with the expression
third estate (tiers-etat)^ Masselin says, * It was decided that each
sectton should furnish six commissioners, two ecclesiastics, two nobles^
and two of tks third estate {duos eccUsimficos^ duos Twbiles, et duos tertii
stattis* (Doetiinents inSdifs sur VHistoire dA^ France; proces^uerbal d^
MasseUriy p, 7G). The commencement of the chapter headed Of tfie
Commons [diicoinmun) is: * For the third and common estate the said
folks do represent , * / and a few Unes lower, comparing the king-
dom with the human body, the compilers of the memorial say, *The
members are the clergy, the nobles^ and the folks of the third estate
{Ibid, after th£ report of MasseliUi memorial ofgrievaw^es^ p. 669).
*' Thus, at the end of the fifteenth century, the eKpression
third estate was constantly employed ; but is it not of older date ?
There are words which spring so from the nature of things that they
ought to be contemporaneous with the ideas they express ; their
appearance in language is inevitable and is scarcely noticed there-
On the day when the deputies of the communes entered an assem-
bly and seated themselves beside the first two orders, the new comer,
by virtue of the situation and rank occupied, took the name of
ihird wrder; and as our fathers used to speak of the third denwr
(tiers denier) t and the third dag (tierce joumee)^ so they must have
spoken of the {tiers*etat) third estate. It was only at the end of the
fifteenth century that the expression became common ; but I am
Chap. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
37
inclined to believe that it existed in the l>eginDmg of the four-
teenth.
** For an instant I had imagined j in the coui'se of my researches,
that, under King John, the ordinatices had designated the good
towfis by the name of third estate, I very soon saw my mistake;
but you will see how near I found myself to the expression of which
"we are seeking the origin. Four times, in the great ordinance of
December, ISSS, the deputies wrest frem the king a promise that
in the next assemblies the resolutions shall be taken according
to the unanimity of the orders * without two estates, if they be of
one accord, being able to bind the third J At first sight it might be
supposed that the deputies of the towns had an understanding to
secure themselves from the dangers of common action on the part of
the clergy and noblesse, but a more attentive exammation made me fly
back to a more correct opinion : it is certain that the three orders
had combinetl for mutual protection against an alliance of any two
of them. Besides, the States of 1676 saw how the clergy re-
adopted to their profit, against the two laic orders, the proposition
Toted in 1355, It is beyond a doubt that this doctrine served to
keep the majority from oppressing the minority whatever may have
been its name. Only, in point of fact, it was most frequently the
third estate that must have profited by the regulation.
" In brief, we may, before the fifteenth century, make suppo-
iitions, but they are no more than mere conjectures. It was at the
great States of Tours, in 1468, that, for the first time, the third
order bore the name which has been given to it by history,"
The fact iras far before its name. Had the third estate been
centred entirely in the communes at strife with their lords ; had the
fete of burgherdom in France depended on the communal liberties
won in that strife, we should see, at the end of the thirteenth cen-
tury, that element of French society in a state of feebleness and
decay. But it was far otherwise. The thu*d estate drew its origin
and nourishment fii'om all sorts of sources ; and whilst one was
within an ace of drying up, the others remained abundant and
frmtfuL Independently of the commune properly so called and
invested with the right of self-government, many towns had privi-
legei, serviceable though limited franchises, and under the adminis-
38
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap, XDC.
-tratlon of the king's officers they grew in population and wealth.
These towns did not sliarcj towards the end of the thu'teentli
century, in the decay of the once warlike and victorious commutiea.
Local political liberty was to ^eek in them; the spirit of inde-
pendence and resistance did not prevail in them; but we see
growing up in them another spirit which has played a grand part
in French history, a spirit of little or no ambition , of Uttle or no
enterprise, timid even and scarcely dreaming of actual resistance,
but lionoiu'ablej inclined to order, persevering, attached to its tra*
ditional franchises and quite able to make them respected sooner
or later* It was especially in the towns administered in the king*g
name and by liis provosts that there was a development of this
spirit which has long been the predominant characteristic of French
burgherdom. It must not be supposed that, in the absence of real
communal independence, these towns lacked all internal security.
The kingship was ever fearful lest its local officers should render
themselves independent, and remembered what had become io the
ninth century of the crown's offices, the duchies and the count*
ships, and of the difficulty it had at that time to recover the scat-
tered remnants of the old imperial autliority. And so the Ca[K>tian
kings with any intelligence, such as Louis VL, Philip Augustus,
St. Lou IS} and Philip the Handsome, were careful to keep a hand
over their provosts, sergeants, and officers of all kinds, in order
that their power should not grow so great as to become formidable.
At this time, besides, ParHament and tlie whole judicial system was
beginning to take form ; and many questions relating to the ad-
ministration of the towns, many disputes between the provosts and
burghers were carried before the Parliament of Paris and there
decided with more independence and equity tlian they would liave
been by any other power, A certain measure of impartiality is
inherent in judicial power; the habit of delivering judgment ac-
cording to written texts, of applying laws to facts, produces a
natural and almost instinctive respect for old-acquii^d rights. In
Parliament the towns often obtained justice and the maintenance of
their franchises against the officers of the king. The collection of
kingly ordinances at this time abounds with instances of the kind,
Tliese judges, besides, these baihifs, these provosts, these seneschals,
I
I
Chap. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THraO ESTATE.
and all these officers of the king or of the great suzerains, formed
IxTore long a numerous and powerful class. Now the majority
amongst them were bnrghersjand their number and their power were
turned to the advantage of burgherdom and led day by day to it-s
fiirther extension and importance. Of all the original sources of the
third estate this it is, perhaps, which has contributed most to bring
ahout the social preponderance of that order. Just when burgher-
dom, but lately formed, was losing in many of the communes a
portion of its local hberties, at that same moment it was seizing
by the hand of Parhaments, provosts, judges, and administrators of
all kinds, a large share of central power. It was through burghers
ailmitted into the king's service and acting aa^ administrators or
jtidgea in his name that eommunal independenoe and charters were
often attacked and abolislied ; but at the same time they fortified
and elevated burgherdom, they caused it to acquire from day to
day more wealth, more credit, more importance and power in the
intaroal and external afiairs of the State*
Philip the Handsome, that ambitious and despotic prince, was
under no delusion when in 1302, 1308 and 1314, on convoking the
first states-general of France, he summoned thither '* the deputies
of the good towns*'* He did not yet give them the name of third
e^fai^ ; but lie was perfectly aware that he was thus summoning
to his aid against Boniface VIIL and the Templars and the Flem-
nigs a class already invested throughout the country with greate
iniluetiee and re^dy to lend him efficient support* His son, Philip the
Lon^, was under no delusion when in 1317 and 1321 he summoned
to the states-general ** the commonalties and good towns of the
kingdom" to decide upon the interpretation of the Salic law as to
the succession to the throne, '* or t^ advise as to the means of
establisliing a uniformity of coins, weights, and measures ;** he was
perfectly aware that the authority of burgherdom would be of great
assistance to him in the accomplishment of acts so grave. And the
tlir^ estates played the prelude to the formation, painful and slow
as it was, of constitutional monarchy when, in 1338, under Philip
ofValois, they declared, "in presence of the said king, Philip of
Valois, who assented thereto, that there shouhl be no power to
impoBO or levy talliage in France if urgent necessity or evident
40
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap, XIX-
Utility did not require it, and then only by grant of the people of
the estates/*
In order to properly understand the French third estate and its
importance more is required than to look on at its birth ; a glance
must be taken at its grand destiny and the results at which it at
3ast airived. Let us, therefore^ anticipate centuries and get a
glimpse, now at once, of that upon which the course of events from
the fourteenth to the nineteenth century will shed full light.
Taking the history of France in its entirety and under all its
phases J the third estate has been the most active and determining
element in the process of French civilization. If we follow it in its
relation with the general government of the country we see it at
first allied for sis centuries to the kingships struggling without
cessation against the feudal aristocracy and giving predominance
in place thereof to a single central power, pure monarchy, closely
bordering, though with some frequently repeated but rather useless
reservations, on absolute monarchy. But, so soon as it had gained
this victory and brought about this revolution, the third estate
went in pursuit of a new one, attacking that single power to the
foundation of which it had contributed so much and entering upon
the task of changing pure monarchy into constitutional monarchy.
Under whatever aspect we regard it during these two great enter-
prises so different one from the other, whether we study the pro-
^gressive formation of French society or that of its government^ the
third estate is the most powerful and the most persistent of the
forces which have influenced French civilisation.
Til is fact is tmique in the history of the world* We recognize in
the career of the chief nations of Asia and ancient Europe nearly
all the grcjit facts which have agitated France ; we meet in them
mixture of different races, conquest of people by people, immense
inequality between dssses, frequent changes in the forms of govern*
msf^t and extent of public power ; but nowhere is there any ap*
pewance of a class which, starting from the very lowest, from being
feeble, despised, and almost imperceptible at its origin^ rises by
jH^rjM^tual motion and by labonr without respite, stpengthens itself
from period to periotl, accjuires in saooasaion whatever it lacked^
trwltb, enhghtenraent, influence, changes the face of society and
Chaf. XIX,] the communes and the THIBD estate. 41
I
I
the nature of government, and arrives at last at such a pitch of
predominance that it may said to be absolutely the country* More
than once in the world's history the external semblances of such
and such a society have been the same as those which have just
been reviewed here, l)ut it is mere semblance. In India, for
example, foreign invasions and the influx and establishment of
different races upon the same soil have occurred over and over
again ; but with what result ? The permanence of caste has not
been touched ; and society has kept its divisions into distinct and
almost changeless classes. After India take China, There too
history exhibits conquests similar to the conquest of Europe by the
Germans ; and there too^ more than once, the barbaric conquerors
settled amidst a population of the conquered. What was the
result ? The conquered all but absorbed the conquerors and
changelessness was still the predominant chai^acteristic of the social
eondition* In Western Asia» after the invasions of the Turks,
the separation between victors and vanquished remained insur-*
mountable ; no ferment in the heart of society, no historical event
could efface this first effect of conquest. In Persia, simOar events
succeeded one another ; different races fought and intermingled ;
and the end was irremediable social anarchy which has endured
for ages without any change in the social condition of the country,
without a shadow of any development of civiHzation*
So much for Asia, Let us pass to the Europe of the Greeks and
Romans. At the first blush we seem to recognize some analogy
between the progress of these brilliant societies and that of French
society ; but the analogy is only apparent ; there is, once more,
nothing resembling the fact and the history of the French third
estate. One thing only has struck sound judgments as being
somewhat hke the struggle of burgher dom in the middle ages against
the feudal aristocracy, and that is the struggle between the plebeians
and patricians at Rome. They have often been compared ; but it
is a baseless comparison. The struggle between the plebeians and
patricians commenced from the very cradle of tlie Roman republic ;
it was not, as happened in the France of the middle ages^the result
of a slow, difficult, incomplete development on the part of a class
which, through a long course of great inferiority in strength, wealth.
42
HTSTOBY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XIX,
and credit, little by little extended itself and raised itsolfj and ended
by engaging in a real contest witli the superior class. It is now
acknowledged that the struggle at Eome between the plebeians
and patricians was a sequel and a prolongation of the war of con-
quest, was an effort on the part of the aristocracy of the cities
conqnered by Rome to share the riglits of the conquering aristocracy.
The families of plebeians were the chief families of the vanquished
peoples ; and though placed by defeat in a position of inferiority,
they were not any the less ariatocratic familioB, powerful but lately
in their own cities, encompassed by clients, and calculated from
the very first to dispute with their conquerors the possession of
power. There is nothing in all this like that slow, obscure^ heart-
breaking travail of modern burgh erdom escaping, full hardlyi
from the midst of slavery or a condition approximating to slavery '
and spending centuries not in disputing political power but in
winning its own civil existence. The more closely the French thinl
estate is examined the more it is recognized as a new fact in the
world's history appertaining exclusively to the civilization of modem,
Christian Europe*
Not only is the fact new, but it has for France an entirely special
interest, since, to employ an exprossion much abused in the prest^nt
day, it is a fiict eminently French, essentially national. Nowhero
has burgh erdom bad so wide and so productive a career as that
which fell to its lot in France- There have been communes in the
whole of Europe, in Italy, Spain, Germany, and England^ as well
as in Franco. Not only liave there been communes every wliere^
but the communes of France are not those which, as communes^
under that name and in the middle ages, have played the chiefcat
part and taken the highest place in history. The Italian corn*
munes were the parents of glorious republics. The Germai
communes became free and sovereign towns, which had their own
special history and exercised a great deal of influence upon the
general history of Grcrmany, The communes of England madd
alliance with a portion of the English feudal aristocracy, formecl
with it the preponderating house in the British government, and
thus played, full early, a mighty part in the history of their country*
Far were the French communes, under that name and in their day
Ciur. XIX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
45
I
of special activityj from rising to such political importance and to
such historical rank. And yet it is in France that the people of the
communes, the burgherdom reached the most complete and most
powerful development, and ended ^by acquiring the most decided
preponderance in the general social structure* There have been
communes, we say, throughout Europe ; but there has not really
been a victorious third estate any where, save in France* The re-
volution of 1789, the greatest ever seen, was the culminating point
arriYed at by the tliird estate ; and France is the only country in
^'bich a man of large mind could, iu a burst of burgher's pride,
exclaim," What is the third estate? Every thing,^*
Siiice the explosion, and after all the changes, liberal and illiberal,
due to the revolution of 1789, there has been a common-place
ceaselessly repeated, to the effect that there are no more classes in
rr^ncli society, there is only a nation of thirty-seven millions of
persons* If it be meant that there are now no more privileges in
France, no special laws and private rights for such and such
families, proprietorships, and occupations, and that legislation is
the same and there is perfect freedom of movement for all at all
tps of the social ladder, it is true : oneness of laws and similarity
rights, is now the essential and characteristic fact of civil
society in France, an immense, an excellent, and a novel fact in the
history of human associations. But beneath the dominance of
this fact, in the midst of this national unity and this civil equality,
there evidently and necessarily exist numerous and important
diversities and inequahties, which oneness of laws and simila-
rity of rights neither prevent nor destroy. In point of pro-
perty real or personal, land or capital, there are rich and poor ;
there are the large, the middling, and the small property. Though
the great proprietors may be less numerous and less rich, and the
imd^Uing and the small proprietors more numerous and more
powerful than they were of yore, this does not prevent the
ilifference from being real and great enough to create in the civil
body social positions widely different and unequal. In the profes-
mm which are called liberal, and which live by brains and know-
ledge, amongst barristers, doctors, scholars, and literates of all
kindsp some rise to the first rank, attract to themselves practice
46
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XIX.
and success, and win feme, wealth, and influence; others make
enough by hard work lor the necessities of their famUic^g, and the
calls of their position ; others vegetate obscurely in a sort of lazy
discomfort. In the other vocationSj those in which the labour is
principally physical and manual, there also it is according to
iiature that there should be different and miequal positions ;
some by brains aud good conduct make capital and get a footing
upon the ways of competence and progi*ess ; others, being dull, or
idle, or disorderly remain in the straitened and pi ecarious condition
of existence depending solely on wages. Throughout the w^hole
extent of the social structure, iu the ranks of labour as well as of
property, differences and inequalities of position are produced or
kept up and co-exist with oneness of laws and similarity of rights.
Examine any human associations in any place and at any time;
and whatever diversity there may be in point of their origin,
organization, government, extent, and duration, there will be found
in all three types of social position always fundamentally the
same, though they may appear under different and differently dis-
tributed forms; Ist, men living on income from their proix*rties
real or personal, land or capital, without seeking to increase them
by their own personal and assiduous labuur; 2nd, men devotod
to working up and increasing by their own personal and assiduous
iabom' the real or personal properties, land or capital they possess ;
3rd, men living by their daily labour, without laud or capital
to give them an income* And these differences, these inequali-
ties in the social position of men are not matters of accident
or Tiolence, or peculiar to tnueh and such a time or such and
such a country ; they are matters of universal apjilication, produced
spontaneously in every human society by virtue of the primitivo
and general laws of human nature, in the midst of events and
under the influence of social systems utWrly different,
These matters exist now and in France as they did of «>ld and
elsewhere, Whetlier you do or do not use the name of classes,
the new French social fabric contains and wiU upt cease to contain
social positions widely different aud unec|ual, Wliat oonstitutics
its blessing and its glory is that privilege and fixity no longer
cling to tiuB diflurenco of positions ; that there are no more special
CiiAP. XIX.] THE COMMONES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
47
I
I
tighte and advantages legally assigned to some and inaccessible to
others ; that all roads are free and open to all to rise to every thing ;
tlmt personal merit and toil have an infinitely greater share thau
was ever formerly allowed to them in the fortunes of men* The
third estate of the old regimen exists no more ; it disappeared in
its victory over privHlege and absolute power ; it has for heirs the
middle classes as they are now called ; but these classes, whilst
inheriting the conquests of the old third estate, hold them on new
conditions alsoj as legitimate as binding. To secure their own
interests as well as to discharge their public duty they are bound
to be at once conservative and liberal; they must^ on the one
Imud, enlist and rally beneath their flag the old, once privileged,
superiorities which have survived the fall of the old regimen, and,
OQ the other hand, fully recognize the continual upward raove-
meut which is fermenting in the whole body of the nation. That
in its relations with the aristocratic clasaea the third estate of the
old regimen should have been and for a long time remained
uneasy, disposed to take umbrage, jealous and even envious, is no
more than natural ; it had its rights to urge and its conquests to
^in ; now-a-days its conquests have been won, the rights are
fmjguLzed, proclaimed, and exercised, the middle classes have no
longer any legitimate ground for uneasiness or envy, they can
rest with full confidence in their own dignity and their own
itrengthj they have undergone all the necessary trials and passed
all the necessary tests. In respect of the lower orders and the
democi'acy properly so called, the position of the middle classes
b no less favourable ; they have no fixed line of sepamtion ; for
irlio can say where the middle classes begin and where they end ?
lu tlie name of the principles of common rights and general
libtsrty they were formed ; and by the working of the same
principles they are being constantly recruited, and are inces-
aantly drawing new vigour from the sources whence they sprang.
To maintain common rights and frco movement upwards against
the retrograde tendencies of privilege and absolute power on the
one hand and on the other against the insensate and destructive
prntensioDs of levellers and anarchists is now the double business
of tlie middle classes ; and it is at the same time, for themselves,
4S
HISTOET OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XIX,
the sure way of preserving preponderance in the State, in the
name of general interests of which those classes are the most real
and most efficient repreBentatives.
On reaching in our history the period at which Philip the
Handsome by giving admission amongst the states-general to tka
'* burghers of the good towns" substituted the third estate for the
communes and the united action of the three gi*eat classes of
Frenchmen for their local struggles, we did well to halt awhile in
order clearly to mark the position and part of the now actor in
the great drama of national life* We will now return to the real
business of the di'ama, that is^ to the history of France, which
became in the fourteenth century more complex, more tragicj and
more grand than it had ever yet been*
'"^^IfV^^^s^i*^
K:.\1
.A-
HUNDRED YEARS
B have just been spectators at the labour of formation of
the Prench kingship and the French nation* We have
seen monarchical unity and national timty rising little
bj little out of and above the feudal system, which had been the
fii-st result of barbarians settling upon tlie ruins of the Roman
pmpire. In the fourteenth century a new and a vital question
arose : will the French dominion preserve its nationality ? Will
ibe kingship remain French or pass to the foreigner? This
qiieation brought ravages upon France and kept her fortunes in
lii^peuse for a hundred years of war with England, from the reign
' f'MIip of Valois to tliat of Charles VII.; and a young girl of
>.ame, called Joan of Arc, had the glory of communicating to
France that decisive impulse which brought to a triumphant issue
the independence of the French nation and kingship.
Ab we have seen in the preceding chapter, the elevation of
Pliilip of Valois to the throne, as representative of the male line
amongst the descendants of Hugh Capet, took place by virtue not
VOL. n* E
50
HISTORY OP FRAJ^CE,
[Chap, XX,
of any old written law, but of a tratlitional right recogoized and
confirmed by two recent resolutions taken at the death of tlie
two oklest sons of Philip tlie Handsome. The right thuB pro-
mulgated became at once a fact accepted by the whole of France ;
IMiilip of Valois had for rival none but a forei^ princOt and
" there was no mind in France/* say contemporary chroniclers,
**to be subjects of the king of England/' iSonie weeks after
bis accession, on the 29tli of May, 1328, Philip was crowned at
RheiniK, in presence of a brilliant assemblage of princes and lords,
French and foreign ; and nest year, on the 6th of June, Edward
III., king of England, being summoned to fulfil a vassal's duties
by doing homage to the king of France for the duchy of Aqui-
taiue, which ho held, appeared in the cathedral of Amiens, with
his crown on his head, his sword at his side, and his gilded spurs
on his heels. When lie drew near to tlie throne, the Viscount
de Melun, king's chamberlain, in\4ted him to lay aside his crown,
his sword, and his spurs, and go down on his knees before Philip,
Not without a mtn^mur, Edward obeyed ; but when the chamber-
lain said to him^ " Sir, you, as didce of Aquitaine, became liegeman
of my lord tlie king who is here, and do promise to keep towards
him faith and loyalty," Edward protested saying that he owed
only simple homage and not liege-homage, a closer bond imposing
on the vassal more stringent obligations [to serve and defend his
suzerain against every enemy whatsoever]. *' Cousin/' said Philip
to him, '* we would not deceive yon, and what you have now done
contenteth us well until you have returned to your own country,
and seen from the acts of your predecessors what you ought
to do,'* ** Gniraercy, dear sir," answered the king of England ;
and with the reservation he had just made, and which was added
to the formula of homage, he placed his hands between the hands
of the king of France, who kissed him on the mouth and accepttMl
his homage, confiding in Edward's promise to certify himself
by reference to the archives of England of the extent to wliich his
ancestors had been bound, Tlie certification took place, and on thu
fSOth of March, 1331, about two years after his visit to Amiens^
Edward II L rocogni/.ed, by letters express, '*that the said homage
which we did at Amiens to the king of France in general tcrmj^^
CHiF. XX J
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
■ is ^d must he understood m liege ; and that we are bound, as
duke of Aquitaine and peer of France, to bHow him faith and
The relations between the two kings were not destined to
tie for long so courteous and so pacific. Even before the question
of the succession to the throne of France arose between them
tliey had adopted contrary policies* When Philip was crowned
at Rheims, Louis de Nerers, count of Flanders, repaired thither
with a following of eighty-six knights, and he it was to whom
the right beloDged of carrying the sword of the kingdom. The
hemlds-at^arms repeated three times, " Count of Flanders, if
you are herei come and do your duty/' He made no answer.
The king was astounded, and bade him explain himself, ^*My
brd/^ answered the county ** may it please you not to be as-
tounded; they called the count of Flanders, and not Lotus
(leJfeverg/' '* What then!" replied the king: "are you not the
count of Flanders ?" "It is true, sir," rejoined the other, "that
I hear the name, but I do not possess the authority; the burghers
of Bruges, Ypres, and Cassel have driven me from my land, and
ft there scarce remains but the t^wn of Ghent where I dare show
I mviseltV " Fair cousin," said Philip, " we will swear to you by
■ the holy oil which hath this day trickled over our brow tliat
m we will not enter Paris again before seeing you reinstated in
(M^oeable possession of the countship of Flanders," Some of the
Freaoh barons who happened to be present represented to the
king that the Flemish burghers were powerful, that autumn was
a iiad season for a war in their country; and that Louis the
Quarrel ler, in 1^U5, had been obliged to come to a stand-still
in a similar expedition. Philip consulted his constable, Walter de
ChatiUon, who had served the kings his predecessors in their wars
. against Flanders* " Whoso hath good stomach for fight,"
(sjigwered the constable, ** findeth all times seasonable." *' Well
ken/* said the king, embracing him, " whoso loveth me will
>U0W me,'* The war thus resolved upon was forthmth begun,
^htlip, on arriving with his army before Cassel, found the place
)t'feuded by 16,000 Flemings under the command of Nicholas
innequiii| the richest of the burghers of Fumes, and already
E 2
52
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[CftAP. XX,
renowned for his zeal in the inBurreetion agaiBst the count-
For several days the French remained inactive around the
mountain on which Cassel is built, and which the knights mounted
on iron-clad horses were unable to scale. The Flemings had
planted on a tower of Caasel a flag catTying a cook, with this
inscription : —
** Wlien the cock thftt ie hereon shall crow^
The foundliTuj king herein shall go."
They called Philip the foundlmg hm^ because he had no busin
to expect to be king. Philip in his wrath gave up to fire and
pillage the outskirts of the place. The Flemings marshalled at the
top of the mountain made no movement. On the 24th of August^
1328, about tliree in the afternoon > the French knights had dis-
armed* Some Were playing at chess; others *^ strolled from tent
to tent in their tine robes, in search of amusement;" and the king
was aleep in his tent after a long carouse, when all on a sudden liis
confessor, a Dominican friai", shouted out that the Flemings were
attacking the camp. Zannequin, indeed, " cam© out full softly
and without a bit of noise," says Froissart, with his troops in three
divisions, to surprise the French camp at three [loints. He was quite
close to the king's tent, and some chroniclers say that he was already
lifting his mace over the head of Pliili|>, who liad armed in liot haste,
and was defended only by a few knights, of whom one was waving
the oriflammo round him, when others hurried up, and Zanneijuin
was forced to stay his band. At two other points of the camp the
attack had ftiiled. The French gathered about tlie king atid the
Flemings about Zannequin ; and there took place so stubborn a
fight, that " of sixteen thousand Flemings who were there not one
recoiled," says Froissart, '' and all were left there dead and slain in
three heaps one upon another, without budging from the spot whore
the battle had begun." The same evening Philip entered Cassel,
wliich he set on fire^ and, in a few days aftt^rwards, on leaving for
Fmnce, he said to Count Louis, before the French barons, "Count,
I have worked for you at my own and my barons' expense ; I give
you back your land, recovered and in peace; so take care that justice
be kept up in it and that I have not, through your fault, to return ;
for, if I do, it will be \o my own profit and to your hurt."
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
53
^
The count of Flanders was far from following the advice of the
king of France, and the king of France was far from foreseeing
wliitber he would be led by the road upon which he had just set
foot It has ateadj been pointed out to what a position of
wealth, population, and power industrial and commercial activity
kl in the thirteenth century raised the towns of Flanders, Bruges,
Glient, Lille, Ypres, Fumes, Courtrai, and Douai, and with wliat
eoergy they had defended against their lords their prosperity and
tlieir liberties- It was the struggle, sometimes sullen, sometimes
riolent, of feudal lordship against municipal burgherdom. The able
and imperious Philip the Handsome had tested the strength of the
Flemish cities, and had not cared to push them to extremity. When
in 1322, Count Louis de Nevers, scarcely eighteen years of age,
iiilieritad from his grandfather Robert IIL the countship of Flan-
ders, he gave himself up, in respect of the majority of towns in the
coantship, to the same course of oppression and injustice as had
been familiar to his predecessors; the burghers resisted him with
the same, often niffianlyj energy; and when, after a six years'
struggle amongst Flemings, the count of Flanders, who had been
conquered by the burghers, owed his return as master of his count-
sliip to the king of the French, he troubled himseli' about nothing
but avenging himself and enjoying his victory at the expense of the
Taaquished, He chastised, despoiled, proscribed, and inflicted
atrocious punishments; and, not content with striking at indi-
riduals, he attacked the cities themselves. Nearly all of them,
^re Ghent, which had been favourable to the count, saw their pri-
vik'gcs aenxilled or curtailed of their most essential guarantees. The
burghers of Bruges were obliged to meet the count half way to his
castle of Male and on their knees implore his pity. At Ypres the bell
in the tower was broken up. Philip of Valois made himself a partner
in these severities ; he ordered the fortifications of Bruges, Ypres,
and Courtrai to be destroyed, and ho charged French agents to see
to their demolition. Absolute power is often led into mistakes by
its insolence ; but when it is in the hands of rash and reckless
mediocrity there is no knowing how clumsy and blind it can be.
Seither the king of France nor the count of Flanders seemed to
remember that the Flemish communes had at their door a natural
5i
HISTOEY OP FRANCE,
[Chaj% XX.
uod powerful ally who ootild not do without them any more than
tluiy could do without him, Woulleo stuffs, cloths> carpetn^ wiu*ni
coverings of every sort were the chief articles of the zuaniitiic^tiires
and coinmerce of Flanders ; there chiefly was to be found all tJiat the
active and enterprising Tnerchants of the time exported to Sweden,
Norway, Hungary, Russia, and even Asia ; and it was from Enghmd
that they chiefly imported their w*ool, the priraai'y staple of their
handiwork. "All Flanders/' says Froissart, "was based tipon cloth;
and no t?v'^oo1, no cloth/' On the other hand it was to Flanders that
England, her land-owners and farmers, sold the fleeces of their
flocks ; and the two countries were thus united by the bond of their
mutual prosperity. The count of Flanders forgot or defied this
fact 80 far as in 1330, at the instigation, it is said, of the king of
France, Uy have all the English in Flanders arrested and kept in
prison. Beprisals were not long defeiTed. On the 6th of October
in the same year the king of England ordered the arrest of all
Flemish merchants in his kingiiora and the seiziu*e of their goods ;
and he at the same time prohibited the exportation of wool.
** Flanders was given over," says her principal historian, ** to deso*
lation ; nearly all her looms ceased rattling on one and the same
day, and the streets of her cities, but lately filled with rich and
busy workmen, were oveiTUn with beggars who asked in vain
for work to esca[x» from misery and hunger.*' The English land*
owners and farmers did not sufier so much but were scarcely less
angered; only it was to the king of France and the count of Flanders
rather than their own king that they held themselves indebted for
the stagnation of their afiairs, and their discontent sought vent
only in execration of the foreigner.
When great national interests are to such a point misconceived
and injured, there crop up, before long, clearsighted and bold men
who undertake the championship of them, and foment the quarrel
to explosion-heat, either from personal views or patriotic feeling.
The (luestion of succession to the throne of France seemed settled
by the inaction of the king of England, and the formal homage
he had come and paid to the king of France at Amiens; but it
was merely in abeyance* Many people both in England and in
Prance still thought of it and spoke of it; and many intrigues bred
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEAJIS' WAB.
56
I
ofliope or fear were kept up witlireferencG to it at the courts of the
two kings. When the ruTiibliDgs of aoger were loud on both sides
m Doiisequetice of affaira in Flanders^ two men of note, a Frcncliman
auJa Fleming, coiiBidering that the houi* hiid come, determined to
revive the question, and turn the great struggle whicii could not
6il to be excited thereby to the profit of their own and their
csouatries" cause, for it is singular how ambition and devotion,
shness and patriotism combine and mingle in the human soul,
*wl even in gi*eat souls,
PhiUp VI. had embroiled himself with a prizice of his line,
Robert of Artois, great-grandson of Robert the first count of
Artois, who was a brother of St. Louis, and was killed during
the crusade in Egypt, at the battle of Mansourah. As early as the
rt'ign of Philip the Handsome Robert claimed th6 countship of
Artois as his heritage ; but having had his pretensions rejected
by a decision of the peers of the kingdom, he had hoped for more
success under Philip of Valois, whose sister he had married.
FMlip tried to satisfy him with another domain raised to a peerage;
but Robert., more and more discontented, got involved in a series
of intrigues, plots, falsehoods, forgeries, and even, according to
public report^ impiisonments and crimes whicli, in 1332, led to
liifi being condemned by the court of peers to banishment and the
coafiscation of his property. He fled for refuge first to Brabant,
and then to England, to the court of Edward III., who received
bim 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., wlio was
naturally prudent and had been involved, almost ever since his
aeoession, in a stubborn war with Scotland, cared but Httle for
ninhing into a fresh and far more serious enterprise. But of alj
iiaman |mssions hatred is perhaps the most detei mined in the pro-
feeution of its designs- Robert accompanied the king of England
fe his campaigns northward; and " Sir," said he, whilst they were
niai-chiug together over the heaths of Scotland, ** leave this poor
oauntry, and give your thoughts to the noble crown of France/*
When Edwai'd, on retmiiing to London, was self-coraplacently re-
joicing at his successes over his neighbours, Robert took pains to
56
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[ClL^F. XX.
piquo his self-rospect, by expressing astonishment that he did not
s?eek raore practical and more brilliant successes. Poetry sometimes
reveals Bentiments and processes about which history is silent* Wo
read in a poem of the fourteenth century, entitled l%e tHiw an Ike
hermi^ ** In the season when summer is verging upon its decline,
and the gay birds are forgetting their .sweet converse on the trcjes*
now despoiled of their verdure, Robert seeks for consolation in
the pleasui'es of fowling, for be cannot forget the gentle land of
FrancOj the glorious country whence be 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 honour*
less knights; give place to gallants on whom love sraOes; here is the
dish for gallants wlio are faithful to their mistresses. The heron is
the most timid of birds, for it fears its own shadow ; it is for tlie
heron to receive the vows of King Edward wlio, though lawful king
of France, dares not claim that noble heritage/ At these words
the king flushed J 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 arid smiles; and low to bis own heart ho
says, * Now have I won : and my heron will cause a great wan* **
Robertas confidence in tliia tempter's work of his if as well
founded, but a little premature. Edward III* did not repel
him ; complained kuidly of the assistance rendered by the king
of France to the Scots ; giave an absolute refusal to Pbilip*s
deniiinds for the extradition of the rebel Robert, and retorted by
protesting, in his turn, against the reception accorded in France to
David Bruce, the rival of his own fevourite Baliol for the throne of
Scotland- In Aquitaine he claimed as of bis own domain some
pLices still occupied by Philip. Philip, on his side, neglected no
chance of causing Edward embarrassment, and more or less overtly
assisting his foes. The two kings were profoundly distrustful
one of the other, foresaw, both of them, that they would one day
come to blows, and prepared for it by rautually working to
entangle and enfeeble one another. But neither durst aa yet
proclaim his wishes or his fears, and take the initiative in those
C&AF. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARB' WAR,
unknown events wliich war must bring about to the great peril of
their people and perhaps of themselves. From 1334 to 1337^ as
they continued to adYance toward the issue, foreseen and at the
game time deferred, of this sitnationj they wei'e both of them seek*
ing allies in Europe for their approaching straggle. Philip had a
notable one under his thumb, the pope at that time settled at
A\iguon ; and lie made use of hiin for the purpose of proposing a
new crusade, in which Edward III. should bo called upon to join
with him. If Edward complied, any enterprise on his part against
France would become impossible; and if he declined, Christendom
would cry fie upon him„ Two successive popes, John XXII, and
Benedict XII,, preached the crusade, and offered their mediation to
R'ttle the differences between the two kings ; but they were
uosaccessfid in both their attempts. The two kings strained
<^very nerve to form laic alliances, Philip did all he could to
m:urti to himself the fidelity of Count Louis of Flanders, whom
the king of England several times attempted, but in vain, to win
over. Philip drew into close relations with himself the kings of
Bohemia and Navarre, the dukes of Lorraine and Burgundy, the
Count of Foix, the Genoese, the Grand Prior of the Knights of St
John of Jerusalem, and raany other lords. The two principal
liiighboui's of Flanders, the count of llainault and the duke of
Brabant, received the solicitations of both kings at one and tho
Bame time. The former had to wife Joan of Valois, sister of the
king of France, but he had married his daughter Philippa to the
king of England ; and when Edward's envoys came and asked for
liis support in "the great business" which their master had in
view, ** If the king can succeed in it,'* said the count, " I shall bo
right glail. It may well bo supposed that my lieart is with him,
liim who hath my daughter, rather than with King Philip, thoiigh
1 have married his sister ; for he hath filched fi'oni me the hand of
the young duke of Brabant^ who should have wedded my daughter
Isalx^l, and liath kept him for a daughter of his own* So help will
1 my dear and beloved son the King of England to the best of
my power. But he 'must get far stronger aid than mine, for
Hainault is but a httle place in comparison with the kingdom of
and<Encrland is too far off to succour us*" "Dear sir,"
38
HISTORY OF FllANCE.
[Chap. XX.
said the envoys, ** a4\4se ue of what lords our master might beat
geek aidj and in what he might best put his trust/* ** By my
soul," said the count, " I cauld not point to lord so powerful to
aid him in this business as would be the duke of Brabant who is his
cousin- german, the dnke of Gueldres who hath his sister to wife>
and Sire de Fauquemont. They are those who would have most
men-at-arms in the least time, and they are right good soldiers ;
provided that money be given them in proportion, for they are
lords and men who are glad of pay/' Ed%vard III. went for powerful
allies even beyotid the Rhine ; he treated with Louis V. of Bavaria,
emperor of Germany ; he even had a solemn interview with him
at a diet assembled at Coblenz, and Louis named Bdwar'd vicar
imperial throughout all the empire situated on the left bank of the
BJiine^ wnth orders to all the princes of the Low Countnes to follow
and obey him, for a space of seven years, in the field. But Louis
of Bavaria was a tottering emperor, excommunicato by the pope,
and with a formidable oompetitor in Frederick of Austria. When
the time for action arrived, King John of Bohemia^ a zesilous
ally of the French king, persuaded the emperor of Germany
that his dignity would be compromised if he wei^ to go and
join the army of the English king, in whose pay lie would appear
to have enUsted; and Louis of Bavaria withdrew from his alliance
with Edward ITL, sending back the subsidies he had received
from him.
Which side were the Flemings themselves to take in a conflict
of such importance and already so hot even before it had reachud
bui'sting point? It was clearly in Flanders that each king was
likely to find his most efficient allies; and so it was there that tliey
made the most strenuous apphcations, Edward III. hastened to
restore between England and the Flemish communes the com-
mercial relations which had been for a while disturbed by the aiTest
of the traders in both countries. He sent into Flanders, even to
Ghent, ambassadors charged to enter into negotiations with the
burghers ; and one of the most considerable amongst those
burghers, Sohier of Gourtrai, who had but lat4jly supported Count
Ijouib in Ills quarrels with the people of Bruges, loudly declared
that the alliance of the king of England was the first* requiremeut
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDHED YEARS' WAR.
51*
of Flanders, and gavo apartments m his own liouse to one ot tlie
English envoys, Edward proposed the estabhshment io Flanders
of a magazine for English wools ; and he gave assurance to such
Flemish weavers as would settle in England of all the securities
they could desire. He even offered to give his daughter Joan in
marriage to the son of the count of Flanders. Philip, on liij3 side,
tried hard to reconcile the communes of Flanders to tbcu* count,
and 60 make them faithful to himself; he let them off two years'
payment of a rent due to him of 40,000 hvres of Paris per
mmum ; he promised them the monopoly of exporting wools from
Fi-ancej he authorized the Brugesmen to widen the moats of their
city, and even to repair its ramparts, The king of England*s
envoys met in most of the Flemish cities with a favour which was
real, but intermingled with prudent reservations, and Count Louis
of Flanders remained ever closely allied with the king of France,
** for ho was right French and loyal," says Froissart, " and with good
imson, for he had the king of Fiance almost alone to thank for
restoring him to his country by force.'*
Whilst, by both sides, preparations were thus being made on the
Continent for war, the question which was to make it burst forth
was being decided in England. In the soul of Edward temptation
overcame indecision. As early aa the month of June, 1336, in a
parliament assembled at Northampton, he had complained of the
assistance given by the king of France to the Scots, and he had
^^ipressed a hope that " if the French and the Scots were to join,
ey would at last offer him battle, which the latter had always
^carefully avoided." In September of the same year he employed
similar language in a parliament held at Nottingham, and he
obtained therefrom subsidies for the war going on not only in
Scotland but also in Aquitaine against the French king^s Hen*
tenants. In AprU and May of the tbllomng year, 1337, ho granted
to Robert of Artois, his tempter for three years past, court favours
which proved his resolution to have been already taken. On the
21ftfe of August following he formally declared war against the king
of France, and addressed to all the sheriffs, archbishops, and bishops
of hb kingdom a cu'cular in which he attributed the initiative to
Philip; on the 26th of August he gave his ally, the emperor of
60
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XX.
Germany^ notice of what he had just done, whilst, for the first
time, insultingly describing Philip as ** setting himself up for
king of France/* At last, on the 7th of October, 1337, he pro-
claimed himself king of France, aa his lawful inheritance, desigiiating
as representatives and supporters of his right the duke of Brabant,
the marquis of Juhers, the count of Haitiault, and William de
Bohun, earl of Northampton.
The enterprise had no foundation in right, and seemed to hare
few chances of success. If the succession to the crown of France
had not been regulated beforehand by a special and positive law,
I'hilip of Valois had on his side the traditional right of nearly three
centuries past and actual possession without any disputes having
arisen in France upon the subject* His title had been expressly
declared by the peers of the kingdom, sanctioned by the Chm*eh,
and recognized by Edward 'himself, who had come to pay liim
homage. He had the general and free assent of his people : to
repeat the words of the chroniclers of the time, "There was no mind
in Franco to be subjects of the king of England." Philip VI, was
regarded in Europe as a greater and more powerftil sovereign than
Ed wan! II L He had the pope settled in the midst of his kingdom ;
and he often traversed it with an array of vaHant nobility whom he
knew how to support and serve on occasion as faithfully as lie was j
served by them. *'Ho was highly prized and honoured," saysl
Froissart, " for the victory he had won (at Cassel) over the Flem-
ings and also for the handsome service he had done his cousin
Count Louis. He did thereby abide in great prosperity and
honour, and he greatly increased the royal state; never had there
been king in Franco, it was said, who had kept state like King
Philip, and he provided tourneys and jousts and diversions in great
abimdance/* No national interest, no public ground was provo-
oative of war between the two peoples ; it was a war of persona!
ambition like that which in the eleventh century William the
Conqueror had carried into England. The memory of that groat
event was still in the fourteenth century so fi'osh in France, that '
when the pretensions of Edward were declared, and the struggle
wm begun, an assemblage of Normans, barons and knights, or,
according to others, the Estates of Normandy themselves c^me and
CiiAi*, XX-]
THE HUNDRED YEABS' WAR.
61
projmsed to Philip tf> uiHlertiiko onco move and at their own
expeose the conquest of England, if he woiihl put at their head liis
eldest son John, ihf*ir own duke* The king rtN^eived their depu-
tation at Viucennes, on the 23rd of March , 13*10, and accept4?d
their offer. They bound tbemselves to supply for tho expetlition
40* JO men-at-arms and 20,000 foot, whom thoy promised to main-
tain for ten weeks and even a fortnight lx*yond, if, when the duke
of Normandy had crossed to England, his oouncU shouhl coiiHitler
the prolongation neoc^ssary. The conditions in detail and the
subsequent course of the ent4?rpri.He thus projecteil were minutely
^gulated and settled in u treaty published by DutiUet in 1588, from
copy found at Caen when Edwanl 11 L became mast^^r of tliat city
in L*i4fi. The events of the war, the long fits of hesitation on the
part of both kings, and the repeated altc^rnatious from hostilities to
tnices and truces to hostihties prevented any thing from coming of
Udii profiosalj the authenticity of which has been questioueil by M.
Michelet amongst others, but the genuineness of which lias been
ilemonstrated by M, Adolph Despont, member of the appeaUeourt
of CaeD) in his lajirned lHatoire du CottnUn.
Edw^ard ITL, though ho hsA proclaimed himself king of France,
did not at the outset of his claim adopt the poHcy of a man firmly
resolved and burning to succeed. From 1337 to 1310 he behaveil
as if ho were at strife with the coimt of Flanders rather than with
the king of Franco. He was incessantly to and fro, either by em-
sy or in person, between England, Flanders, HainauU, Bnibaut,
and even Germany, for the purpose of bringing the princes and
[people to jujtively co-operate with himagtiinst his rival ; and during
this tliplomatic movement such was the hostihty bt?twt*en the
king of England and the count of Fhmders Ihat Edwaitl's aniUis*
sadors thouglit it impossible for them to pass thnnigh Flanders in
safety, and went to Holland fur a ship in which to return to
Kngliind- Nor were their fears groundless; for tho count of
Flanders luul caui?ed to bo arrested, and was still detaining in
prisfm at the castle of Ruiielmonde, the Fleming Soliier i>f (■ourtrai,
who had received into his huuse at Ghent one of the English
envoys, and had shown himself favourable to thei? cause. Edward
ketndy resented these outrages, denumdeil but did not obtain the
62
HISTOBY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XX.
release of Sohier of Courtrai, and by way of revenge gave orders in
NoYember, 1337, to two of his bravest captains^ the earl of Derby
and Walter de Manny, to go and attack the fort of Cadsand, sitnated
between the island of Walcheren and the town of Ecluse (orSluys),
a post of conseqiienc3e to the count of Flanders, wlio had confided
the keeping of it to big bastarrd brother Guy, with five thousand
of hia most faithful subjects* It was a sanguinary affair. The
besieged were surprised but defended themselves bravely; the
landing cost the English dear ; the carl of Derby was wounded find
hurled to the ground, but his comrade, Walter de Manny, raised
him up with a shout to his men of ** Lancaster, for the earl of
Derby f* and at last the English prevailed. The Bastard of
Flanders was made prisoner ; the town was pillaged and burned ;
and the English returned to England and ** told their adventure/'
says Froissart, ** to the king» who was right joyous when he saw
them and learnt how they had sped.'*
Thus began that war which was to be so cruel and so long. The
Flemings bore the first brunt of it* It was a lamentable position
for them ; their industrial and commercial prosperity was being
ruined ; their security at home was going from thera ; their com-
munal liberties were compromised; divisions set hi amongst
thera; by interest and habitual intercourse they were draiim
towards England, but the countj their lord, did all he could to
turn them away from- her, and many amongst them were loath ta
separate themselves entirely from France. " Burghers of Ghent,
as they chatted in the thoroughfares anfl at the cross-roads, Raid
one to another that they had heard much wisdom > to their mind,
from a burgher who was called Jaraes van Artevelde, and who was
a brewer of beer. They had heard him say thut, if he eoukl obtain
a hearing and credit, he would in a little while rest^i*e Flanders
to good estute, and they would recover all their gains without
standing ill with the king of France or the king of England,
These sayings began to get f?pread abroad insomuch that a quarter
or half the city was informed thereof, especially the small folks of
the commonalty, whom the evil touched most nearly. They began
to afisembl© in the streets, and it came to pass that one day^ after
dinner^ several went from house to house calling for their conirndes.
Chap, XX*]
THE HUNDRED YEAKS^ WAR.
63
and saying, *Come andliear the wise man's counsel/ On the 26th
of December, 1337, they came to the house of the said Jaraes van
Artevelde, and found him leaning against his door. Far off as
they were when they first perceived him^ they made him a deep
obeisance, and ^ Dear sir,' they said, * we are come to you for
counsel ; for we are told that by your great and good sense you
will restore the country of Flanders to good case. So tell us how/
Tlien James van Artevelde came forward, and said, * Sirs comrades,
I am a native and burgher of this city, and here I have my means.
Know that I would gladly aid you with all my power, you and all
the country ; if there were here a man who would be willing to
take the lead, I would be willing to risk body and means at his
side; and if the rest of ye be willing to be brethren, friends
and eomi^ades to me, to abide in all matters at my side, notwith-
standing that I am not worthy of it, I will undertake it willingly/
Then said all with one voice, * We promise you faithfully to
abide at your side in all matters and to therewith adventure
body and means, for we know well that in the whole countship of
Flanders there is not a man but you worthy so to do/ " Then
Van Artevelde bound them to assemble on the next day but one in
the grounds of the monastery of Biloke, which had received
numerous benefits from the ancestors of Sohier of Courtraij whose
soB4n-law Van Artevelde was.
Tills bold burgher of Ghent, who was bom about 1285, was
HpruDg from a family the name of which had been for a long while
inscribed in their city upon the register of industrial corporations.
His father, John van Art^o^vehle, a cloth- worker, had been several
times over sheriff of Ghent, and his mother, Mary van Groete, was
great-aunt to the grandfather of the illustrious publicist called in
history Grotius. James van Artevelde in his youth accompanied
Count Charles of Valois, brother of Philip the Handsome, upon
bis adventurous expeditions in Italy, Sicily, and Greece, and to the
island of Rhodes; and it had been close by the spots where the
soldiers of Marathon and Salamis had beaten the armies of
Darius and Xerxes that he had heard of the victory of the
Flemish burghers and workmen attacked in 1302, at Courtrai, by
tlie splendid army of Philip the Handsome. James van Artevelde,
64
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[OnAf , XX.
on retwning to his country, had been busy with his inaiinfactnre5»^
his fieklB, the education of his children, and Flemish aftUirs up
to the day when, at his invitation, the burgliers of Ghent throngt^d
to the meeting on the 28th of Decenaberj 1337j in the gi^ounds of
the monastery of Biloke, There he delivered an eloquent speech,
pointing out imhei?itatingly but temperately the policy which he
considered good for the country. " Forget not/^ he stiid, ** the
might and the glory of Flanders. Who, pray, shall forbid that we
defend our interests by using our rights ? Can the king of France
prevent us from treating with the king of England ? And may we
not be certain that if we were to treat with the king of England*
the king of France would not be the less urgent in seeking our
alliance ? Besides, have we not with us all the comnmnes of
Brabant, of Hainault, of Holland, and of Zealand ?" The audience
cheered these words; the commune of Ghent forthwith assembled,
and on the 3rd of January, 1337 [according to the old style, which
made the year begin at the 25th of March], re-established the
offices of captains of parishes according to olden usage, when
the city was exposed to any pressing danger. It was carried that
one of these captains should have the chief government of the city;
and James van Artevelde was at once invested with it. From that
moment the conduct of Van Artevelde was ruled by one pre-
dominant idea : to secure free and fair commercial intercourse for
Flanders with England, whilst observing a general neutrality in the
war between the kings of England and Fiance, and to combine eo
far all the communes of Flanders in one and the same policy. And
he succeeded in this twofold purpose. '* On the 29th of April,
1338, the representatives of all the communes of Flanders (the
city of Bruges numbering amongst them a hundred and ei^bt
deputies), repaired to the castle of M&le, a residence of Count
Louis, and then James van Artevelde set before the count what had
been re&olved upon amongst them. The count submitted, and
swore that he would thenceforth maintain the liberties of Flan dern
in the state in which they bad existed since the treaty of Athie^,
In the month of May following a deputation, consisting of James
van Artevelde and other burghers appointed by the cities of Glient,
Bruges, and Ypres scoured the whole of Flanders, from Bailleul to
Ch4p. XX.]
THE HUNDBED YEARS' WAR.
67
)
I
Temonde, and from Ninove to Dunkerque, ** to reconcile the good
folks of the communes to the count of Flanders, as well for the
count's honour, as for the peace of the country, " Lastlyj on the 10th
of June, 1338, a treaty was signed at An vers between the deputies
of tbe Flemish communes and the English ambassadors, the latter
tieclBring: *' We do all to wit that we have negotiated way and
sabgtance of friendship with the good folks of the communes of
Flanders J in form and manner hereinafter following :
"First, they shall be able to go and buy the wools and other
merchandise which have been exported from England to Holland|
Zealand or any other place whatsoever ; and all traders of Flanders
wlio shall repair to the ports of England shall there be safe and
free in their persons and their goods, just as [in any other place
where their ventures might bring them together,
^^Ileffij we have agreed with the good folks and with aU the
coDunon country of Flanders that they must not mix nor inter*
meddle in any way, by assistance in men or arms, in the wars of
our lord the king and the noble Sir Phihp of Yalois (who holdeth
hiniBelf for king of France).'*
Three articles following regulated in detail the principles laid
down in the first two, and, by another charter, Edward III,
oniained that " all stidfs marked with the seal of the city of Ghent
might travel freely in England without being subject according to
ellage and quaUty to the control to which all foreign merchandise
wa3 subject/' {Histoire de Flmidre^ by M, le Baron Kerwyn de
Lettenhove, t iii. pp. 199—203,)
Van Artevelde was right in telling the Flemings that, if they
treated with the king of England, the king of France would be
only the more anxious for their alhance, Philip of Valois and even
Count Louis of Flanders, when they got to know of the negotiations
entered into between the Flemish communes and King Edward,
redoubled their offers and promises to them. But when the
passions of men have taken full possession of their souls, words of
concession and attempts at accommodation are nothing more than
poBtponements or lies, Phihp, when he heard about the conclu-
sion of a treaty between the Flemish communes and the king of
England, sent word to Count Louis ** that this James van Artevelde
F 3
68
HISTORY OF FEANCE.
[Chap. SX.
Ttixist Eotj on any account, be allowed to rule or even live» for, if it
wm'o so for long, the count wonkl lose liis land/' The count, very j
inuch disposed to accept such advice, repaired to Ghent and sent j
fur Van Artcvelde to come and see hirn at his hoteL He went, bnt
with 80 large a following that the count was not at the time at all ^
in a position to venrnt him. He tried to persuade the Flemish |
burgher that " if he would keep a hand on the people so ns to
keep thorn to their love for the king of France, he having more
authority than any one el so for sucli a purpose, niueb good would
result to him : Tningling, besides, with this address, some words
of threatening import/' Van Artevelde who was uot the least
afraid of the threat, and who at heart was fond of the English,
told the count that he woidd do as ho had promised the com- j
munes. " Hereupon he left the count, who consulted hii
confiflants as to what he was to do in this business, and tliey '
counselled him to let them go and assemble their people, saying that
they would kill Van Artevelde secretly or otlierwise. And indeed^
they did lay many traps and made many attempts against the cap
tain ; but it was of no avail, since all the commonalty was for hira/
When the rumour of these projects and those attempts was spread j
a]>road in tlio city, the excitement was extreme, and all tJie burghers J
assumed white hoods, which was the mark peculiar Lo the members ,
of the commune when they assembled under their flags; so that
the count found himself reduced to assuming one, for he was afraid
of being kept captive at Ghent, and, on the pretext of a hunting-
party, he lost no time in gaining his castle of Male.
The burghers of Glient had their minds still filled with
their lato alarm when they heard that, by order it was said of!
the king of France, Count Louis had sent and beheaded at the!
castle of Rupelmonde, in the very bed iu which he was confined
by his infirmities, their fellow-citizen Sohier of Courtrai, Vani
Artevelde*s father-in-law, who had been kept for many months inj
prison for liis intlniaey with the EngHsh. On the same day the;
bishop of Seulis auil the abbot of St< Ueuis had arrived at TournaVf i
and had superintended the reading out iu the market-place of Uj
sentence of excommunication against the Ghentese* j
It was probably at this date that Van Artevelde in his vexation!
Chap. XX.]
THE HUXURED YEAU^' WAR.
69
t
I
I
and disquietude assumed in Ghent an attitude thmatening and
des^potic even to t^Tanny, '* He had continually after him/* says
Fwasart, *' sixty or eighty armed varletSj amongst whom were two
or three who knew so mo of his secrets. When he met a man
ffbom he hated or had in suspicion this man was at once killed,
fur Van Arteveldo had given this order to his varlets : * The moment
1 meet a man, and make such and such a sign to you, slay him
witliout delay, however great he may be, without waiting for more
speech/ In this way he had many great masters slain. And as
soou as these sixty varlets had taken him home to his hotel, each
went to dinner at his own house; and the moment dinner was over
they returned and stood before his hotel and waited in the street until
tliat he was minded to go and play and take his pastime in the city,
mi m they attended him to supper- time. And know that each of these
birelings had jkt dlcni four groschen of Flanders fur their expenses
mi wages, and he had them regularly paid from week to week, , , •
And even in the case of all that were most powerful in Flanders
bights, esquires J and burghers of the good cities, whom he believed
to he favourable to the count of Fkinders, them he banished from
Flanders and levied half their revenues. He had levies made of
rcnts,of dueson merchandi?;e and all the revenues belonging to the
count J wherever it might be in Flanders, and he disbursed them at
liis will, and gave them away without rendering any account- . • .
And when he would borrow of any burghers on his word for pay-
ment, there was none that durst say him nay. In short them
wa,5 never iu FlanderSj or in any other country, duke, count, prince,
ar uther wlio can have had a country at his will as James van
Artevelde had for a long time/*
It is possible that, as some historians have thought, Froissart,
being less favourable to buj*ghers than to princes, did ngt deny
himself a little exaggeration iu this portrait of a great burgher-
patriot transformed by the force of events and passions into a
demagogic tyrant. But Siuue of us nuiy have too vivid a personal
recollection of similar scenes to doubt the gencTal truth of the
piclnre ; and we shall meet before long in the history of France
iluring the fourteenth century with an example still more striking
uud more famous than that of Van Artevelde,
70
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XX*
Whilst tte count of Flanders, after having yainly attempted to
excite an uprising against Van Arteveldej was being forced, in
order to escape from the people of Bimges, to mount \m horse
in hot haste, at night and barely armed, and to flee away to
St. Omerj Philip of Valois and Edward III. were preparing, on
either side, for the war which they could see drawing neai*-
Philip was vigorously at work on the pope, the emperor of Ger-
many, and the princes neighbours of Flanders, in order to raise
obstacles against his rival or rob him of his allies. He ordered
that short-Uved meeting of the States-general about which we
have no information left us, save that it voted the principle that
" no talliage could be imposed on flie people if urgent necessity or
evident utihty should not require it, and imless by concession of
the Estates/^ Philip, as chief of feudal society rather than of the
nation which was forming itself little by Uttle around the lords,
convoked at Amiens all his vassals great and small, laic or cleric,
placing all his strength in their co*operation, and not caring at
all to associate the country itself in the aflairs of his government,
Edward, on the contrary, whilst equipping his fleet and amassing
treasure at the expense of the Jews and Lombard usurers, was
assembling his parliament, talking to it '' of this important and
costly war," for which he obtained large subsidies, and accepting
without making any difficulty the vote of the Commons' House,
which expressed a desire " to consult their constituents upon this
subject, and begged him to summon an early parliament, to which
there should be elected, in each county, two knights taken from
among the best landowners of their counties," The king set out
for the Continent; the parliament met and considered the exi-
gences of the war by land and sea, in Scotland and in France ;
traders, shipowners, and mariners were called and examined ; and
the forces determined to be necessary were voted- Edward took
the field, pillaging, burning, and ravaging, " destroying all the
country for twelve or fom*teen leagues in extent/* as he himself
said in a letter to the archbishop of Canterbury. When he set
foot on French territory, Count William of Haiuault, his brother-
in-law and up to that time his ally, came to him and said that
** he would ride with him no farther^ for that his presence w'as
Chap. XX.]
THE HDNDEED YEARS' WAE.
71
I
I
I
I
prayed and required by liis undo the king of France, to wliom
he bore no hate, and wtom lie would go and serve in his
own kingdom, as he had served King Edward on the t-erritory of
tiie emperor, whose vicar he was," and Edward wished him " God
speed!'* Such was the binding nature of feudal ties that the
same lord held himself bound to pass from one camp to another
according as he found himself upon the domains of one or the
other of his suzerains in a war one against the other, Edward
continued his march towards St, Quentin, where Philip had at
ht arrived with his allies the kings of Bohemia, Navarre, and
iicotlaBdi ** after delays which had given rise to great scandal and
DJiirmurs throughout the whole kingdom/' The two armies, with
a strength, according to Froissart, of a hundred thousand men on
the French side, and forty-four thousand on the English, were
mn facing one another, near Buironfosse, a large burgh of
Pimrdy, A herald came from the English camp to tell the king
of France that the king of England 'demanded of him battle. To
which demand," says Froissart, *' the king of France gave willing
went and accepted the day which was fixed at first for Thursday
ihe 2l8t, and afterwards for Saturday the 25th of October, 1339."
To judge from the somewhat tangled accounts of the chroniclers
and of Froissart himself, neither of the two kings was very anxious
to come to blows, The forces of Edward were much inferior to
tliose of Philip ; and the former had accordingly taken up, as it
appears, a position which rendered attack difficult for Phihp,
Tliere was much division of opinion in the French camp, Inde-
peadently of military grounds, a great deal was said about certain
Wtters from Robert., king of Naples, " a mighty necromancer and
full of mighty wisdom, it was reported, who,, after having several
times cast their horoscopes, had discovered by astrology and from
experience, that, if his cousin, the king Of France, were to fight
the king of England, the former would be worsted/' '* In thus
disputing and debatingj" says Froissart, **the time passed till full
ttiid'day, A little aftex'wards a hare came leaping across the fields,
and rushed amongst the French, Those who saw it began shouting
and making a great halloo. Those who were behind thought that
those who were in front were engaging in battle ; and several put on
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XX.
their helmets and gi'ipped their swords. Thereupon several knights
were made ; and the count of Hainault himBelf made fourteen, who
were thenceforth nick-named knights of the Hare/* Wliatever
his motive may have been, Philip did not attack ; and Edward
promptly began a retreat. They both dismissed their allies ; and
dm^ing the early days of TQ^ovember Philip fell back upon St,
Quentiuj and Edward went and took up his winter-quarters at
Brussels.
For Edward it was a serioue check not to have dared to attack
the king whose kingdom he made a pretence of conquering; and
ho took it grievously to heart. At Brussels he had an interview
with his allies and asked their counscL Most of the princes of the
Low Countries remained faithful to him and the count of Hainaulr
seemed inclined to go back to him ; but all hesitated as to what he
was to do to recover from the check* Van Artevekle showed more
invention and more boldness. The Flemish communes had con-
centrated their forces not far from the spot where the two kings
had kept their armies looking at one another; but they had main-
tained a strict neutrality, and at the invitation of the count of
Flanders, who promised thejn that the king of France would
entertain all their claimsj Artevelde and Breydel^tliG deputies from
Ghent and Bruges > even repaired to Courtrai to make terms with
him. But as they got there nothing but ambiguous engagements
and evasive promises ^ they let the negotiation drop, and, whilst
Count Louis was on his way to rejoin Philip at St, Quentin,
Artevelde with tlie deputies from the Flemish communes startled
for Brussels. Edward, who was already living on very confidential
terms with him, told bim that " if the Flennugs were minded t»o
help him to keep up the war and go with him whithersoever ho
would take them, they should aid him to recover Lille, Douai, and
B^thunCj then occupied by the king of France, Art^velde, after
consulting his colleagues, returned to Edward, and, *Dear sir,^ said
he, * you have alrefidy made such requests to us, and verily, if we
could do so whilst keeping our Imuour and faitli, we would do as
you demand ; but w© be bound, by taith and oath, and on a bond
of two milUons of florins entered into with the pope, not tci go to
war with the king of France without incurring a debt to the
Cuf. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
n
amount of that sum and a sentence of excommunication ; but if
you do that which we are about to say to you, if you will be
pleased to adopt the arms of France, and quarter them with those
ofEtiglandjand openly call yourself king of France^ we will uphold
voQ for true king of France; you^ as king of France, shall give us
quittance of our faith ; and then we will obey you as king of France^
and will go whithersoever you shall ordain,"
Tins prospect pleased Edward mightily : but " it irked him to
take the name and arms of that of which he had as yet won no tittle/'
He consulted his allies- Some of them hesitated; but '' his most
privy and especial friend,'* Robert d'Artois, strongly urged him to
consent to the proposaL So a French prince and a Flemish
bargher prevailed upon the king of England to pursue, as in
assertion of his avowed rights, the conquest of the kingdom of
Fmnce* King, prince, and burgher fixed Ghent as their place of
meeting for the official conclusion of the alliance ; and there, in
Jamiary, 131-0, the mutual engagement was signed and sealed •
Tim king of England "assumed the arras of France quartered
iritli those of Eugland," and thenceforth took tbo title of king of
Francep
Then burst forth in reality that war w-hich w^as to last a hundred
ears; whicli was tu bring upon the two nations the most violent
iiggles as well as the most cruel sufferings, and which, at the
end of a hundred years, was to end in the salvation of France from
lier tremendous peril and the defeat of England in her unrighteoua
Jitlempt, In January, 1340, Edward thought he had won the
moBt useful of allies ; Artevelde thought the independence of the
Flemish communes and his own supremacy in his own country
gured ; and Robert d*Artois thought with complacency how ho
liad gratified his hatred for Philip of Valois. And all tlu'ee were
deceiving thera^lves in their joy and their confidence-
Ed ward ^ leaving Queen Philippa at Ghent with Artevelde for
lier adviser, had returned to England, and had just obtained from
the Parlianieiit, for the purpose of vigorously pushing on the war,
a subsidy almost witliout pi^ecedent, when he heard that a large
French fleet was assembling on the coasts of Zealand, near the port
<»f Ecluse (or Sluys) with a design of surprising and attacking Iiim
74
HISTORY OF PRANCE.
[Chap.
when lie should cross over again to the Continent, For some time
past this fleet had been cruising in the Channel, making descents
hero and there upon English soilj at Plymouth, Southampton,
Sandwich, and Dover^ and every where causing alarm and pillage,
Its strength^ they said, was a hundred and forty large vessels,
"without counting the smaller,*' having on board thirty-five
thousand men, Normans, Picards, Italians, sailors and soldiers of
all countries, under the command of two French leaders, Hugh
Quicret, titular admiral, and Nicholas Bfihuchet, King Philip*s
treasurer, and of a famous Genoese buccanier, named Barbavera,
Edward, so soon as he received this information, resolved to go
and meet their attack ; and he gave orders to have his vessels and
troops summoned from all parts of England to Ore well, his point of
departure. His advisers, with the archbishop of Canterbury at
their head, strove^ but in vain, to restrain him, "Ye are all in
conspiracy against me,*' said lie; *M shall go; and those who arc
afraid can abide at home/' And go he did on the 22nd of June^
1*340, and aboard of liis fleet "went with hira many an English
dame/* says Froissart, " wives of eaids and barons and knights
and burghers of London, who were off to Ghent to see the queen
of England, whom for a longtime past they had not seen ; and King
Edward guarded them carefully/* " For many a long day," said
he, " have I desired to fight those fellows, and now we will fight
them, please God and St. George ; for, verily, they have caused me
so many displeasures that I would fain take vengeance for them if
I can but get it/' On arriving off' the coast of Flanders, opposite
Eehise (or Sluys), he saw ^* so great a number of vessels that of
masts there seemed to be verily a forest/' He made his arrange-
ments forthwith, ** placing his strongest ships in front and
manoDuvring so as to have the wind on the starboard quarter and
the sun astern. The Nornmns marvelled to see the Enghsh thus
twisting about, and said, 'They are turning tail; they are not men
enough to fight us/ " But the Genoese buccaneer was not misled*
"When he saw the Enghsh fleet approaching in such fashion, he
said to the French admiral and his colleague Behuchet, ' Sire, here
is the king of England with all his ships bearhig down upon us :
if yo will follow my advice, instead of remaining shut up in ])ort,
Cmp. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAB.
75
)o wUl draw out into the open sea; for, if ye abide bei^, ti^^yi
Vrliilst tbey liave in their favour sun and wind and tide, will keep
you so short of room that yo will be helpless and unable to
loancauvre/ Whereupon answered the treasurer, Behuchet, who
knew more about arithmetic than sea-fights, * Let him go hang,
vviioever shall go out ; here will we wait and take our chance.'
* Bit/ repUed Barbaveraj ' if ye will not be pleased to bebeve niej I
have no mind to work my own ruin, and I will get me gone with
my galleys out of this hole.' " And out he went with all bis
scjuadroD, engaged the Enghsh on the high seas, and took tlio
first ship which attempted to board Mm, But Edward, though lie
was wounded in the thigh, quickly restored the battle. Aft«er a
gallant resistance Barbavera sailed off with bis galleys, and the
Freuch fleet found itself alono at grips with the English, The
struggle was obstinate on both sides ; it began at six in the morn-
ing of June 24th, 1340, and lasted to mid^day. It was put an end
toby the arrival of the reinforcements promised by the Flemings
to the king of England, ''The deputies of Bruges/' says their
bistorian, **liad employed the whole night in getting under weigh an
armament of two himdred vessels and, before long, the French heard
eclioing about them the bonis of the Flemish mariners sounding
to quarters.'* These latter decided the victory; Behuchet, Philip of
Valois* treasurer, fell into their bands ; and they, heeding only their
destre of avenging themselves for the devastation of Cadsand (in
13;J7),]ianged him from the mast of his vessel ''out of spite to the
kitig of Prance." The admiral, Hugh QuitSret, though be surren-
dered, was put to death ; " and with him perished so great a
numljer of men-at-arms that the sea was dyed with blood on this
ooagt, and the dead were put down at quite 30,000 men,"
. The very day after the battle the queen of England came from
Glient to join the king her husband, whom his wound confined to
fcis ship *r *^iid at Valenciennes, whither the news of the victory
lipeedily arrived, Artevelde, mounting a platform set up in the
umrket-place, maintained in the presence of a large crowd the
right which the king of England had to claim the kingdom of
France. Ho vaunted ** the puissance of the three countrieSi
Fbndurs, Hainault, and Biabantj when at one accord amongst
I-
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Ceak X3
themselves, anil what with his words and his great sense," says
Froissart, ** he did so well that all who heard him said that lie had
spoken mighty well and with mighty experience^ and that he was
right worthy to govern tlie countship of Flanders." From Valen-
ciennes he repaired to King Edward at BrngeSj where all the
allied princes were assembled ; and there, in concert with the
other deputies from the Flemish comtnuneSi Artevelde oftered
Edward a hundred tliousaud men for the vigorous prosecution of
the war, " All those burghers," says the modern historian of the
Flemings, ** had declared that, in order to promote their country's
cause, they would serve mthout pay, so heartily had they ent<?redj
into the war*" The sic»ge of Touruay was the first opiTutioi^l
Edward resolved to undertake- He had promised to give this
place to the Flemings ; the burghers were getting a taste f(
conquest, in company with kings.
They found Philip of Valois bettor informed and also more hot
for war than perhaps they had expected. It is said that he learnt
the defeat of his navy at Eelusc from his court-fool, who was the
first to announce it, and in the following fiishiou, " The English
are cowards," said he, *' Why so?" asked the king. "Because
they lacked com^age to leap into the sea at Ecluse as the French
and Normans did." Philip lost no time about putting the places on
his Northern frontier in a state of defence ; he took up his quartens
first at Arras and then three leagues from Tonrnay, into which his
constable, Raoul d*Eu, immediately threw himself with a consider-
able force, and whither his allies, the duke of Lorraine, the count of
Havoy, the bisho[>s of Liege, Metz, and Verdun, and nearly all tlie
karous of Bin*gundy came and joined him. On the 27th of July,
1340, he received there from his rival a challenge of portentous
length, the principal terms of which arc set forth as follows: —
** Philip of Valois, for a long time past we have taken proceediu
by means of messages and other reasonable ways, to the end tl
yon might restore to us our rightfid heritage of France, which you
have this long while withheld from us and do most wrungridly
occupy. And as we do clearly see that you do intend to persevere
in your wrongful withholding, we do giro you notice that we are
jnarching against yon to bring our right fid ehiims to an issue*
CaAP. XX.]
TOE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
77
And, whei'eas so great a iiiirabei* of folks assembled, on our side
and on yours, cannot keep themselves together for long without
catising great de^trnction to the people and tlio countryj we desire,
m the quarrel is between you and us, that tlte decibion of our
ehim should bo between our two bodies. And if you have no
nmitl to this way, we propose that our quarrel should end by a
battle, body to borly^ b:?twcon a hundred persons, tho most capable
on your side and on ours. And, if you liave no mind either to one
way or to the other, that you do appoint ns a fixed day for figliting
before the eity of Touruay, power to power. Given under our
privy seal, on the field near Tournay, the 2Gtb day of July, in the
first year of our reign in France and in England the fourteenth/'
Philip replied : ** Phibp, by the grace of God king of Francej to
Edward king of England. We have seen your letters brought to
our court, as from you to Philip of Valois, and containing certain
demands which you make upon tlie said Philip of Valois* And, as
tbe said lett<^rs did not come to ourself, we make you no answer.
Our intention is, when it shall seem good to us, to burl you out
of our kingdom, for the benefit of our people. And of that we havo
firm hD|je in Jesus Christ, from whom all power eometh to us."
Events were not satisfactory either to the haughty pretensions
of Edward or to the patriotic liupes of Phihp. The war continued
in the north and south-west of B'ranco without any result. In the
l^i^ghbourhood of Tournay some encounters in the open country
TCre unfavourable to the English and their allies ; the siege of tlio
[fece was prolonged for seventy- four days without the attainment
ftf any success by assault or investment; and the inhabitants
defended themselves with so obstinate a courage, that, when at
length the king of England found himself obliged to raise the siege,
Philip, to testify his gratitude towards them, restored them their
ln?r, that is, their communal charter for some time past withdrawn,
and *Hhey were greatly rejoiced," says Froissart, "at having no
more royal governours and at appointing provosts and jurymen
a?cording to their fancy." The Flemish burghers, in spite of their
display of warlike zeal, soon grew tired of being so far from their
bosiness and of living under canvas. In Aquitaine the ben tenants
of the king of France had the advantage over those of the king of
78
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chj^p.
England,* they re-took or delivered several places in dispute
between the two crownsj and they closely preBRed Bordeaux itself
both by land and sea. Edward, the aggressor, was exhausting hig
pecuniary resources, and his Parliament was displaying but little
inclination to replenish them. For Philip, who had merely
defend himself in his own dominions, any cessation of hostilitii
was almost a victory., A pious princess, Joan ofValois, sister
Philip and mother-in-law of Edward, issued from her convent at
Fontenelle, for the purpose of urging the two kings to make peace
or at least to suspend hostihties, ** The good damo,'^ says Froissart^
" saw there, on the two sides, all the flower and honoui' of tli^
chivalry of the world ; and many a time she had fallen at the feet
of her brother, the Idng of France, praying him for some respite or
t!*eaty of agreement between himself and the English king. And
when she had laboured with them of France she went her way to
them of the Empire, to the duke of Brabant, to the marquis of Juliers
and to my lord John of Hainaidt, and prayed them, for God's
pity's sake, that they would bo pleased to hearken to some ter
of accord, and would win over the king of England to bo pleased
condescend thereto/' In concert with the envoys of Pope Benedict"
Xn,, Joan of Valois at last succeeded in bringing the two sove-
reigns and their allies to a truce, which was concluded on the 25th
of September, 1340, at first for nine months, and was afterwards
renewed on several occasions up to the month of June, 1342.
Neither sovereign, and none of their allies gave up any thing or
bound themselves to any thing more than not to fight during that
interval; but they were, on both sides, without the power of
carrying on withovit pause a struggle which they would not entirely
abandon.
An unexpected incident led to its recommencement in spit«
the fence : not, however, throughout France or directly betweei
the two kings, but with fiery fierceness, though it was limited to a^
single province, and arose not in the name of the kingship of
France but out of a purely provincial question, John III., duke of
Brittany and a faithfid vassal of Philip of Valois, whom he had gone
to support at Tournay **more stoutly and substantially than any
of the other princes/* says Froissart, died suddenly at Caen, on the
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEABS* WAR.
30th of Aprilj 1341, on returning to his domaiTi, Though he had
been thrice married he left no child, Tho duchy of Brittany then
reverted to his brothers or their posterity; but liis very next brother,
Guy, count of Penthi&'vre, had been dead six years and had left
only a daughter, Joan called the Cripple, married to Charles of
Blois, nephew of the king of Franco. The third brother was still
alive; he too was named John, had from his mother the title of
mmt of Montfort, and claimed to be heir to the duchy of Brittany
in preference to his niece Joan. The niece, on the contrary,
believed in her own right to the exclusion of her uncle. The
f|ue9tion was exactly the same as that which had arisen touching
the crown of France when Philip the Long had successfully
(llsputed it witli the only daughter of Ids brother Louis the
(|u3rreller; but the Salic law, which had for more than three
eentaries prevailed in France and just lately to the benefit of
Philip of Valois, had no existence in the written code or the
tnviitions of Brittany. There, as in several other great fiefs,
women had often been recognized as capable of holding and
transmitting sovereignty. At tho death of John IIL, his brother
tte count of Montfort, immediately put himself in possession of the
inhoritance, seized the principal Breton towns, Nantes, Brest,
Eenaes, and Vannes, and crossed over to England to secure the
support of Edward IIL His rival, Charles of Blois, appealed to
the decision of the king of France, his uncle and natural protector.
Pliilip of Valois thus found himself the champion of succession in
tlie female line in Brittany, whilst he was himself reigning in
France by virtue of the Salic law, and Edward III, took up in
Brittany the defence of succession in the male lino which ha was
disputing and fighting against in France, Philip and his court of
peers declared on the 7th of September, 1341, that Brittany
lielonged to Charles of Blois, who at once did homage for it to the
long of France, whilst John of Montfort demanded and obtained
^e support of the king of England. War broke out between the
claimants, effectually supported by the two kings, who never-
tlieless were not supposed to make war upon one another and in
their own dominions. The feudal system sometimes entailed these
strange and dangerous complications, ^
60
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap.
If the two parties had been reduced for leaders to the two^
claiTnaiitB only, the Avar would not, perhaps, have lasted long. In
the first caiiiimign tho coimt of Montfort was made prigonor at the
giego of Nank>s, can led off* to Paris and shut up in the tower of
*th0 LouFre, whence he did not escape until tliree years were ovn|^|
Cnmrles of Blois» with all his personal valour, was so scrupulously
devout that he often added to the embarrassments and at the same
time tho delays of war. He never marched without being followed
by his almoner^ who took with him every where bread and wine and
water and fire in a pot for the purpose of saying mass by the way*
One day when Charles was accordingly hearing it and was very
near the enemy, one of his officers, Auffroy de Montbouclierj said U>
him, " Sir, you see right well that your enemies are yonder, and
you halt a longer time than they need to take you." *' Auffroy/'
unswercd tlio prince, ** wo shall always have towns and castles, and,
if they arc taken, we shall, with God's help, recover them; but if
we miss hearing of mass, we shall never recover it." Neither side,
however, had much detriment from either the captivity or pious
delays of its chief. Joan of Flanders, comitess of Montfort, was itt
Rennes when she heard that her husband had been taken prisoner
at Nantes. " Although she made great mourning in her heart/*
says Froissart, " she made it not like a disconsolate^ woman, but
like a proud and gallant nian. She showed to her friends and
soldiers a little boy she had, and whose name was Juhn^ even as
his father's, and she said to them, 'Ah ! sirs, be not discomforted
and cast down because of raj lord whom we have lost ; he was but
oue man; see here is my little boy who, please God, shall be his
avenger. I have wealth in abundance, and of it I will give you
enow, and I will provide you with such a leader as shall give you
all fresh heart.* She went thi^ough all her good towns and
fortresses, taking her young son with her, reinforcing the garrisons
with men and all they wanted, and giving away abundantly wherever
she thought it would be well laid out* Then she went her way to
nennebon*sur-Mer, which was a strong town and strong castlet
and there she abode, and her son with her, all the winter." In
May, 1342, Charles of Blois came to besiege her; but the attempts
at assault were not successful **The countess of Montfort, who
Chap. XX.)
THE mXNDBED TEAES' WAR.
81
I
I
I
I
waa Oftsetl in armour and rode on a fine steed, galloped from street
to street throiigli the town, summoned the people to defend them-
sehes stoutly, and called on the women sdamcSjdamoisels, and others,
to pull up the roadSj and carry the stones to the ramparts t-o throw
down on the assaihints/* She attempted a bolder enterprise. " She
sometimes mounted a towerj right up to the top, that she might
see the better how her people bore themselves- She one day saw
tliat all they of the hostile army> lords and others, had left their
(jijartera and gouo to watch the assault. She mounted her steed,
aH armed as she was, and summoned to horse with her about three
himdred raen-at-arms who were on guard at a gate which was not
being assailed. She went out thereat with all her compaBy and
threw herself valiantly upon the tents and quarters of the lords of
France, which were all burnt, being guarded only by boys and
Tarleis, who fled as soon as they saw the countess and her folks
entering and setting fire. When the lords saw their quarters
biiruing and heard the noise which came therefrom they ran up all
dazed and crying, * Betrayed I betrayed I * so that none remained for
the assault. When the countess saw the enemy's host running up
from all parts, she re-assembled all her folks, and seeing right well
that she could not enter the town again without too great lossj she
went off by another road to the castle of Brest [or, more probably,
d'Auray, as Brest is much more than three leagues from Honnebon],
which lies as near as three leagues from thence." Though hotly
pursued by the assailants *' she rode so fast and so well that she
and the greater part of her folks arrived at the castle of Brest,
whetB she was i*eeeived and feasted right joyously. Those of her
folks who were in Hennebon were all night in great disquietude
because neither she nor any of her company returned; and the
assailant lords, who had taken up quarters nearer to the town,
cried, *Come out, come out and seek your countess; she is lost;
jou will not find a bit of her,' In such fear the folks in Hennebon
remained five days. But the countess wrought so well that she
had now full five hundred comrades armed and well mounted; then
ghe set out fi*om Brest about midnight and came away, arriving at
sunrise and riding straight upon one of the flanks of the enemy's
liTOt; tliere she had the gate of Honnebon castle opened, and
voi*. Ji. Q
82
HISTOEY OF FRANCE.
[Ch4p. XX-
entered in witli great joy and a great noise of trumpets and drums;
wliereby the besiegers were roughly disturbed and awakened/*
The joy of the besieged was short. Charles of Blois prt^ssed on
the siege more rigorously every day, threatening that, when he
should have taken the place, he would put all the inhabitants to the
sword. Consternation spread even to the brave ; and a negotiation
was opened with a view of arriving at terms of eapitulatioo. By
dint of prayers Countess Joan obtained a delay of three days. The
first two had expired, and the besiegers were preparing for a fresh
assault, %vhen Joan, from the top of her tower, saw the sea covered
with sails: " 'See, see,' she cried, 'the aid so mach desired!' Every
one in the town, as best they could, rushed up at once to the
windows and battlements of the walls to see what it might be/*
says Froissai^t. In point of fact it was a fleet with (5000 men
brought from England to the relief of Hennebon by Amaury de
CUsson and Walter de Manny ; and they had been a long while
detained at sea by contrary winds, *' Wlien they had landed, the
countess herself went to them and feasted them and thanked them
greatly, which was no wonder, for she had sore need of their
coming/' It was far better still when, next day, the new arrivals
had attacked the besiegers and gained a brilliant victory over them.
When they re-entered the place, "whoever,** says Froissart, ** WAW
the countess descend from the castle, and kiss my lord Walter de
Manny and his conarades, one after another, two or three timeSi
might well have said that it was a gallant dame."
All the while that the count of Montfort was a prisoner in the
tower of the Louvre, the countess his wife strove for his cause with
the same indefatigable energy. He escaped in 1345, crossed over
to England, swore fealty and homage to Edward III. for the duchj
of Brittany, and immediately returned to take in hand, himself, his
o^vn cause, Btit in the very yeai* of his escape, on the 26tli of
Septemlier, 1345, he died at the castle of Hennebon, leaving once
more his wife, with a yoinig child, alone at the head of his party
and having in charge the fiiture of his house. The Countess Joan
maintained tlie rights and interests of her son as she had maintained
those of her husband. For nineteen years, she, with the help of
England, struggled against Charles of Blois, the head of a party
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEABS' WAE.
8S
\
I
I
I
growing more and more powerful and protected by France-
Fortune shifted her favours and her asperities fi'om one carap
io the other. Charles of Blois had at first pretty considerable
suooess ; but, on the 18th of June, 1347^ in a battle in which he
personaUy displayed a brilliant courage he wag in his turn made
prisoner^ carried to England, and immured in the Tower of
London. There ho remained nine years. But he too had a
Tsliant and indomitable wife, Joan of Penthifevre, the Cripple,
She did for her hnsband all that Joan of Montfort was doing
for hers. All the time that he was a prisoner in the Tower of
Loodon, she was the sonl and the head of his party, in the open
coimtry as well as in the to\TOS, turning to profitable accoujit the
mdiBations of the Breton population, whom the presence and the
faTages of the English had turned against John of Montfort and
hi cause. She even convoked at Dinan, in 1352, a general
lesembly of her partisans, which is counted by the Breton histo-
mns as the second holding of the States of their country. During
me years, from 1347 to 1356, the two Joans were the two heads
of their parties in politics and in war, Charles of Blois at last
obtained his lilK?rty from Edward III* on hard conditions, and
returned to Brittany to take up the conduct of his own aifairs.
The struggle between the two claimants still lasted eight years
ffith vicissitudes ending in nothing definite- In 1363 Charles of
Blois and young John of Montfort, weary of theii' fruitless efforts
and the sufferings of their countries, determined both of them to
make peace and share Brittany between them, Bennes was to be
Charles* capital, and Nantes that of his rivah The treaty had been
signed, an altar raised between the two armies, and an oath taken
on both sides, but when Joan of Penthjfevre was informed of it she
ii*fu8ed downright to ratify it. ** I married you,'* she said to her
kniband, **to defend my inheritance and not to yield the half of it;
lam only A woman, but I would lose my life, and two lives if I had
ttem, rather than consent to any cession of the kind/' Charles of
Btois, as weak before his wife as brave before the enemy, broke the
treaty he had but just sworn to, and set out for Nantes to resume
the war. *'My lord/' said Countess Joan to him in presence of all his
faiigliti, **you are going to defend my inheritance and yours,* which
86
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap- XX,
my lord of Mont fort — wrongful Ij, God knows — doth withliold from
us, and the barons of Brittany who are here present know that I
am rightful heiress of it- I pray you affectionately not to make
any ordinance, composition j or treaty whereby the duchy corporate
remain not ours," Charles set out; and in the following year, on
the 29th of September, IZOl, the battle of Auray cost liim his life
and tho countship of Brittany, When he was wounded to death
he said, " I have long been at war against my conscience/* At
sight of his dead body on the field of battle young John of
Montfort, his conqueror, was touched, and cried out, "Alas I my
cousin, by your obstinacy you have been the cause of great evils in
Brittany : may God forgive you I It grieves me much that you
are come to so sad an end." After this outburst of generous
compassion came the joy of victory, which Montfort owed above all
to his English allies and to John Ohandos theii' leader, to whom,
** My lord John," said he» ** tliis great fortune hath come to me
through your great sense and prowess: wherefore, I pray you,
drink out of my cup," " Sir," answered Chandos, " let us go
hence, and render you your thanks to God for this happy fortune
you have gotten, for, without the death of yonder warrior, you
could not have come into tho inheritance of Brittany." From that
day forth John of Montfort remained in point of fact duke of
Brittany, and Joan of Penthi^vre, the Cripple, the proud princess
who had so obstinately defended her rights against him, survived for
full twenty years the death of her husband and the loss of her duchy ,
Whilst the two Joans were exhibiting in Brittany, for tho
preservation or the recovery of their little dominion, so much
energy and persistency, another Joan, no princess but not the less
a heroine, was, in no other interest than the satisfaction of her
love and her vengeance, making war, all by herself, on the same
territory. Several Norman and Breton lords, and amongst others
Oliver de Chsson and Godfrey d'Harcourt, were suspected, nomi*
nally attached as they were to the king of France, of having made
secret overtures to the king of England. Philip of Valois had them
arrested at a tournament, and had them beheaded without any
form of trial, in the middle of the market-place at Paris, to tho
number of fourteen. The head of Clisson was sent to Nantes, and
Cbap. XX.]
THE HUISTDRED YEABS' WAR.
87
I
I
I
\
exposed on one of the gates of the city. At the news thereof, his
widow, Joan of Belleville, attended by several men of family, her
Beighboura and fi'iends, set out for a castle occupied by the troops
of Philip's candidate, Charles of Blois. The fate of Clisaon was
apt yet known there ; it was supposed that his wife was on a
knting excursion; and she was admitted without distrust. As
soon as she was inside, the blast of a horn gave notice to her
Mowers, whom she had left concealed in the neighbouring woods,
rtey rushed up, and took possession of the castle; and Joan do
CKsson had all the inhabitants-^but one-^put to the sword. But
this was too little for her grief and her zeal. At the head of her
troops^ augmented, she scoured the country and seized several
places, every where driving out or putting to death the sei'vants of
the king of France, Philip confiscated the property of the house
of Cliason* Joan moved from land to sea. She manned several
vessels, attacked the French ships she fell in with, ravaged the
coasts, and ended by going and placing at the service of the
countess of Montfort her hatred and her son, a boy of seven years
af age whom she had taken with her in all her expeditions and who
ffas afterwards the great constable Oliver de Clisson, We shall
find him under Charles V- and Charles VI, as devoted to France
and her kings as if he had not made his first essays in arms against
the candidate of their ancestor Philip. His mother had sent him
to England to be brought up at the court of Edward III,, but,
shortly after taking a glorious part with the English in the battle
of AiU'ay, in which he lost an eye and which secured the duchy of
Brittany to the count of Montfort, De CUsson got embroiled none
the less with his suzerain, who had given John Chandos the castle
of Giavre, near Nantes. '* Devil take me, my lord,*' said Oliver to
him, " if ever EngMshman shall be my neighbour ;'' and he went
forthwith and attacked the castle, which he completely demoHshed,
The liatreds of women whose passions have made them heroines of
war are more personal and more obstinate than those of the
roughest waiTiors. Accordingly the war for the duchy of Brittany
in the fourteenth century has been called in history the war of tho
three Joans.
This war was, on both sides, remarkable for cruelty. If Joan de
88
HISTORY OF FRANCE^
[Cbaf, XX.
CMsson gave to the sword all tlie people in a castle, belonging to
Charles of Blois, to which she had been aflmitted on a supposition
of pacific intentions, Charles of Blois, on liis side, finding in another
castle thirty knights, partisans of the count of Montfort, had their
heads shot from catapults over the walls of Nantes which he was
besieging; and, at the same time that he saved from pillage tbo
churches of Quimper which he had just taken, ho allowed his troops
to jnassacro fourteen hundred inhabitants and had his principal
prisoners beheaded. One of them, being a deacon, he caused to bo
degraded and then handed over to the populace, who stoned him.
It is characteristic of the middle ages that in them the ferocity of
barbai*ic times existed side by side with the sentiments of chivalry
and the fervour of Christianity : so slow is the race of man to
eschew evil even when it has begun to discern and relish good.
War was then the passion and habitual condition of men. They
made it without motive as well as without prevision, in a transport
of feeling or for the sake of pastimei to display their strength or to
escape from listlessness i and, whilst making it, they abandoned
themselves without scruple to all those deeds of violence, ven*
geance, brutal anger, or fierce delight which war provokes. At the
same time, however, the generous impulses of feudal chivalry, the
sympathies of Christian piety, tender affections, faithful devotion,
noble tastes, were fermenting in their souls; and human nature
appeareil with all its complications, its inconsistencies, and its
uTegidaritieB, but also with all its wealth of prospective develop-
ment. The tlnx)e Joans of the fourteenth century were but eighty
years in mivauce of the Joan of Arc of the fifteenth; and tho
knights of Charles V,, Du Gueschn and De Giisson, wore tho
forerunners of the Bayard of Francis I.
An incident which has retained its popularity in French history,
to wit, the fight between thirty Bretons and thirty English during
tho just now commemorat<?d war in Brittany will give a bett4?r idea
than any general observations could of the real, living characteris-
tics of facta and manners, barbaric and at the same time chivalrie,
at that period. No apology is needed for here reproducing the
chief details as they have been related by Froissart, tho dramatic
chronicler of the middle ages,
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS^ WAR,
la 1351, **it happened on a day that Sir Rol)ert do Boaumanoir,
a valiant knight and commandant of the castle wliich is called
i\4k Josscliu came before the town and castle of Ploermel,
diureof the captain, called Brandebourg [or Bremhro^ probably
Brffiihoroufjh^^ had with him a plenty of soldiers of the oonntess of
Monlfort, * Brandebourg,* said Egbert* ' have ye within thero
nerer a man-at-arms, or two or three, who would fain cross swords
^fith other three for love of their ladies?' Brandebourg answered
that their ladies wonld not have them lose their lives in so
misemble an affair as single combat, whereby one gained the name
of fool rather than honourable renown, ' I will tell you what wo
win do, if it please you. You shall take twenty or thirty of your
comrades, as I will take as many of ours. We will go out into a
goodly field where none can hinder or vex us, and there will we do
so much that men shall speak thereof in time to come in hall and
palace and highway, and other places of the world.* *By my faith/
md Beaumanoir, * 'tis bravely said, and I agree : be ye thirty, and
WQ will be tliirty too/ And thus the matter was settled. When
the day had come, the thirty comrades of Brandebourg, whom we
filmll call Enfjflsh^ heard mass, then got on their arras, went off to
tke place where the battle was to be, dismounted, and waited a long
wliile for the others, \^ horn we shall call Fremh, When the thirty
French had come, and they were in front one of another, they
jxirleyed a little together all the sixty; then they fell back and
made all their fellows go far away from the place- Then one of
tlwm made a sign, and fortliwith they set on and fought stoutly all
in a heap, atid they aided one another handsomely when they saw
tlieir comrades in evil case. Pretty soon after they had come toge-
ther ono of the French was slain, but the rest did not slacken the
fiofht one whit, and they l>ore themselves as valiantly all as if they
liad all Ix^en Rolands and Olivers. At last they were forced to
stop, and they rested by common accord, giving themselves truce
ontil they sliould be rested, and the first to get up again should
recall the others. They rcsk^d long, and there were some who
drank wino which was brouglit to them in bottles. They re-buckled
tiiiiir armour which liad got undone, and dressed their wounds.
Four French and two English were dead already/*
90
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chaf. XX,
It was no doubt during fcliis interval that the captain of the
Bretons, Robert de Beaumanoirj grievously wounded and dying of
fatigue and thirst, cried out for a drink, " Drink thy blood,
Beauinanoir/' said one of his comrades, Geoffrey de Bois accordirig
to some accounts, and Sire du Tint^niac according to others.
From that day those words became the war-cry of the Beaumanoirs.
Froissart says nothing of this incident. Let us return to his
narrative*
** When they were refi^eshed, the first to get up again made a
sign and recalled the others. Then the battle recommenced as
stoutly as before and lasted a long while. They had short swords of
Bordeaux, tough and sharp, and boar-spears and daggers, and some
had axes, and therewith they dealt one another marvellously gi'eat
dingSj and some seized one another by the arms a-struggling, and
they struck one another and spared not* At last the EngUsh had
the worst of it; Brandebourg, their captain, was slain, with eight of
his comrades ; and the rest yielded themselves prisoners when they
saw that they could no longer defend themselves, for they could
not and must not fly. Sir Robert de Beaumanoir and his comi*adeS|
who remamed ahve^ took them and carried them off to Castle
Jossolin as their prisoners; and then admitted them to rauBom
courteously when they were all cured, for there was none that was
not grievously wounded, French as well as English. I saw after-
wards sitting at the table of King Charles of France a Breton
knight who had been in it. Sir Yvon Charuel; and he had a face so
carved and cut that he showed full well how good a fight had been
fought. The matter was talked of in many places ; and some set
it down as a very poor, and others as a very swaggering business/*
The most modei-n and most judicious historian of Brittany,
Count Daru, who has left a name as honourable in literature as in
the higher administration of the First Empire, says^ very truly, in
recounting this incident, ** It is not quite certain whether this was
an act of patriotism or of chivalry," He might have gone farther,
and discovered in this exploit not only the characteristics ho points
out, but many others besides. Local patriotism, the honour of
Brittany, party-spirit, the success of John of Montfort or Charles
of Blois, the sentiment of gallantry, the glorification of the most
Cm?. XX,]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR,
91
beautiful one amongst their lady-loves, and, chiefly, the passion for
war amongst all and sundry ^ — there was something of all this mixed
tip with the battle of the Thirty, a faitLfid reflex of the complication
and confusion of minds, of morala and of wants at that forceful
|X?riod, It is this very variety of the ideas, feelings, interests, motives,
and motive tendencies involved in that incident which accounts
for the fact that the battle of the Thirty has remained so vividly
remembered, and that in 1811 a monument, unpretentious but
national, replaced the simple stone at first erected on the field of
battle, on the edge of the road from Plocrmel to Josselin, with this
inscription : " To the immortal memory of the battle of the Thu-ty,
gained by marshal Beaumanoir, on the 2Gth of March, 1350
(1351)/'
With some fondness and at some length this portion of Brittany's
history in the fourteenth century has been dwelt upon, not only
because of the di*amatic interest attaching to the events and tho
actors^ but also for the sake of showing, by that example, how
many separate associations, diverse and often hostile, were at that
time developing themselves, each on its own account, in that
extensive and beautiful country which became France, We will
now return to Philip of Valois and Edward III., and to the
struggle between them for a settlement of the question whether
France should or should not preserve its own independent king-
bip and that national unity of which she ah'eady ha<l the name,
l^ut of which she was still to undergo so much painful travail in
acquiring the reality.
Although Edward III. by supporting with troops and officers,
and sometimes even in person, the cause of the countess of Mont-
fort — and PhiUp of Valois, by assisting in the same way Charles of
Blois and Joan of Penthifevre, took a very active, if indirect, share
ia the war in Brittany, the two kings persisted in not calhng
themselves at war; and when either of them proceeded to acts of
unquestionable hostihty, they eluded the consequences of them by
liastily concluding truces incessantly violated and as incessantly
renewed. They had made use of this expedient in 1 340 ; and they
had recourse to it again in 1342, 1343, and 1344, The last of these
fcniioes was to have lasted up to 1346 ; but, in the spring of 1345,
92
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Ceap.
Edward resolved to put an end to tbig equivocal po Bit ion, and to
openly recommence war. He annouTiced his intention to Pope
Clement IV. j to his own lieutenants in Brittany, and to all the
cities and corporations of his kingdom. He accused Philip o^
having "violated, without even sending us a challenge, the true
which, out of regard to the sovereign pontiff, we had agi^eed u\
with him, and which he liad taken an oath^ upon his soul, to kee|
On account whereof we have resolved to proceed against him, hii
and all his adherents, by land and sea, by all means possible, in
order to recover our just rights/' It is not quite clear what^
pressing reasons urged Edward to this decisive resolution, TW
English parliament and people, it is true, showed more disposition
to support their king in his pretensions to the throne of France,
and the cause of the count of Montfort was maintaining itself
stubbornly in Brittany, but nothing seemed to call for so staitling a
rupture or to promise Edward any speedy and successful issu8«_
He had lost his most energetic and warlike adviser ; for Robei
d' Artois, the deadly enemy of Philip of Valois, had been so des}
rately wounded in the defence of Vannes against Robert do Beat
manoir that he had leturned to England only to die. Edward
this loss severely, gave Robert a splendid funeral in St. Paul's
church, and declared that ** he would listen to naught until he bad
avenged him, and that he would reduce the country of Brittany tdH
such phght thatj for forty years, it should not recover." Philip of
Valois, on his side, gave signs of getting ready for war. In 1343
he had convoked at Paris one of those assemblies wliich were
beginning to be called the States-general of the kingdom, and he
obtained from it certain subventions. It was likewise in 1343 and
at the beginning of 1344 that he ordei^d the arrest, at a touiiia-
ment to which he had invited them, and the decapitation, without
any form of trial, of fourteen Breton and three Norman lords
whom he suspected of intriguing against him with the king ol
England • And so Edward might have considered hiraseli' threatcnc
with imminent peril ; and, besides, ho had friends to avenge. But
it is not unreasonable to suppose that his fiery ambition and liifi
impatience to decide once for all that question of the French king*
ship which had been for five years in suspense between himself
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
98
and Uis rival were the true causes of liis warlike resolve. However
that mny be, lie determined to pusli the war vigorously forward at
the three points at which he could easily wage it. In Brittany he
bad a party already engaged in the struggle ; in Aquitaine posses-
sions of importance to defend or recover ; in Flanders allies with
power to back him and as angry as he himself, To Brittany he
forwarded fi'esh supplies for the count of Montfort ; to Aquitaine
lie i^ent Henry of Lancaster, earl of Derby, his own cousin and the
alilost of his lieutenants ; and he himself prepared to cross over
with a large army to Flanders.
The eoxl of Derby met with solid and brilliant success in Ajqui-
taine. He attacked and took in rapid succession Bergerac, La
Rrole, Aiguillon, Montpezat, Villefranche, and Angoulfime, None
of those places was relieved in time; the strict discipline of Derby's
troops and the skill of the English archers were too much for the
bravery of tlie men-at-arms and the raw levieSj ill organized and
ill paidj of the king of France; and, in a word, the English were
Boon masters of almost the whole country between the Garonne
mil the Charente. Under such happy auspices Edward III,
arrived on the 7th of July, 1345, at the port of Eeluse (Sluys),
anrious to put himself in concert with the Flemings toiicliing the
immpaign ho proposed to commence before long in the north of
France, Artevelde, with the consuls of Bruges and Ypres, was
awaiting him there» According to some historians Edward invited
tliLiu aboai*d of his galley, and represented to them that the time
had come for renouncing imperfect resolves and half-measures;
told ihem that their count, Louis of Flanders, and his ancestors
Iwl always ignored and attacked their lil>erties, and that the begt
tiling they could do would be to sever their connexion with a house
tlify could not trust ; and ofiered them for their chieftain his own
«on, the young prince of Wales, to whom he would give the title of
I fluke of Flanders, According to other historians it was not King
L Kdward, but Artovelde him^^elf, who took the initiative in this
I proposition. The latter had for some time past felt his own domi*
H iiion in Flanders attacked and shaken; and he had been con-
■ rronted, in lus own native city, by declared enemies who had all
I but come to blows with his own partisans. The different industrial
t
u
HISTORY OP PRANCE.
[Chap. XX*
corporations of Ghent were no longer at one amongst themselves;
tlie weavers had (jinirrelled witli the fullers. Division was likewise
reaching a great lieiglit amongst the Flemish towns- The burghers
of Poperiiighe had refused to continue recognizing the privileges of
those of Ypres ; and the Ypres men, enraged, had taken up arms,
and, after a sanguinary melley, liad forced the folks of Poperinghe
to give in. Then the Ypres men, proud of their triumph^ had
gone and broken the weavers' raacliinery at Bailleul and in some
other towns. Arfcevelde, constrained to take pai*t in these petty
civil wars, ha<l been led on to greater and greater abuse, in his own
city itself, of his nnmieipal despotism already grown hateful
many of his fellow-citizens, Wli ether he himself proposed
shako oflF the yoke of Count Louis of Flanders and take for duke"
the prince of Wales, or merely accepted King Edward's proposal,
he set resolutely to work to get it carried. The most able men,
swayed by their own passions and the growing necessities of the
struggle in which they may be engaged, soon forget their first
intentions and ignore their new perils. The consuls of Bruges and
Ypres, present with Artavelde at his interview with King Edward
in the port of Ecluse (8hiys), answered that " they oould not decide
so great a matter unless the whole community of Flanders should
agree thereto/* and so returned to their cities. Artevelde fol-
lowed them thither and succeeded in getting the proposed . reaolu*
tion adopted by tlie people of Ypres and Bruges. But when he
returned to Ghent* on the 24-th of July, 1315, " those in the city
who knew of his coming," says Froissart, "had assembled in tho
street whereby he ai^st ride to his hostel. So soon as they saw
him they began to mutter, saying, * Tliero goes he who is too
much master J and would fain do with the count ship of Flanders
according to his own will; which cannot be borne/ It had, beside
this, been spread about the city that James van Artevelde hac
secretly sent to England tlie great treasure of Flanders which lie
had been collecting for the space of the nine years and raoi'e
during which he had held the government. This was a matt€^r
which did greatly vex and incense them of Ghent. As James van
Artevelde rode along the streat he soon perceived that there wa
something fresh against him, for those who were wont to bow"
CflAf, XX,]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR,
down and take off their caps to him turned him a cold shoulderj and
wmi back into their houses. Then he began to be afraid ; and so
mm as he had dismounted at his house he had all the doors and
windows shut and banned. Scarcely had his varlets done so when
the street in which he lived was covered, front and back, with
folk, and chiefly small crafts-foik* His hostel was surrounded and
beset, front and back, and broken into by force. Those within
defended themselves a long while and overthrew and wounded
many ; but at last they could not hold out, for they were so closely
assailed that nearly three-quarters of the city were at this assault.
When Art4?velde saw the efforts a-making and how hotly he was
pressed he came to a window over the street, and began to abase
himself, and say with much fine language, * Good folks, what want
ye ? What is it that doth move ye ? Wherefore are yo so vexed
at me ? In what way can I have angered ye P Tell mo, and I will
mend it according to your wishes.' Then all those who had heard
him answered with one voice, * We would have an account of the
great treasure of Flanders which you have sent to England without
right or reason/ Artevelde answered full softly, * Of a surety,
Birs, I have never taken a denier from the treasury of Flanders;
go ye back quietly home, I pray you, and come again to-morrow
morning; I shall be so well prepared to render you a good account
that, according to reason, it cannot but content ye/ 'Nay, nay,*
they answered with one voice, ^ but we would have it at once ; you
ihall not escape us so ; we do know of a verity that you have t^iken
it out and sent it away to England, without our wit; for which
Ciiuse you must needs die.' When Art-evelde^pard this word he
began to weep right piteously, and said^ * Sirs, ye have made me
what I am, and ye did swear to me aforetime tliat ye would guard
aud defend me against all men ; and now ye would kill me, and
without a cause, Yo can do so an if it please you, for I am but
one single man against yo alh without any defence* Think hereon,
f(ir God^s sake, and look back to bygone times* Consider the
^at courtesies and services that I have dona ye. Know ye not
how all trade had perished in this country ? It was I who raised
it up again. Afterwards 1 governed ye in peace so great that,
during the time of my government, ye have had every thing to
I
90
HISTORY OF PRANCE.
[Chap. XX.
your wisli, grains, woolsj and all sorts of merchandises wherewith
ye are well provided and in good case/ Tlien tbey bejafim to
sliout, * Come down, and preach not to us from such a height; we
would have account and reckoning of the great treasure of Flanders
which you have too long had under control without rendering an
account, which it appertainctli not to any officer to do/ Wlien
Arteveldo saw that they would not cool down and would not
restrain themselves, he closed the window, and bethought him that
he would escape by tho back and got liim gone to a church
adjoining his hostel; but his hostel was already burst open and
broken into behind, and there were more than four hundred
persons who were all anxious to seize him. At last he was caught
amongst them, and killed on the spot without mercy. A weaver,
called Tliomas Denis, gave him his death-blow. This was the end
of Artevelde, who in his time was so great a master in Flanders,
Poor folk exalted him at first, and wicked folk slew him at the
last/'
It was a great loss for King Edward. Under Van Artevelde's
bold dominance, and in consequence of his alliance with England,
the warlike renown of Flanders had made some noise in Europe,
to such an extent that Petrarch exclaimed, '' List to the sounds,
still indistinct, that reach us from tlie world of the West ; Flanders
is plunged in ceaseless war ; all the country stretching from the
restless Ocean to the Latin Alps is rushing forth to arms. Would to
Heaven that there might come t/O us some gleams of salvation from
thence I 0 Italy, poor fatherland, thou prey to sufferings without
relief, thou who wast wont with thy deeds of arms to trouble
the peace of the world, now art thou motionless when the fate of
the world hangs on the chances of battle I** The Flemings spared
no effort to re-assure the king of England. Their envoys went to
WestmiuBter to deplore the murder of Van Artevelde, and tried to
persuade Edward that his policy would be perpetuat^jd through-
out their cities, and **to such purpose,'* says Froissart, "that in
the end the king was fairly content with the Flemings and they
with him, and between them the death of James van Artevelde was
little by little forgotten," Edward, however, was so mucli affected
by it that he required a whole year before he could resume with
Chap, XX J
THE HUNDEED YEARS* WAR.
VI
mj confidence his projects of war ; and it was not until the 2nd
of July, 1346, that be embarked at Soutbamptonj taking with him^
ksidea his son the prince of Wales, hardly sixteen years of age,
an army which comprised^ according to Froissart, seven earls, more
than thirty-five barons, a gi'eat number of knights, four thousand
men-at-arms, ten thousand English archers, six thousand Irish
and twelve thousand Welsh infantry, in all something more than
thirty-two thousand men, troops even mpre formidable for their
discipline and experience of war than for their numbers. When
they were out at sea none knew, not .even the king himself, for
what point of the Continent they were to make, for the south or the
north, for Aquitaine or Normandy* ''Sir/* said Godfi^ey d'Har-
court, who had become one of the king's most trusted counsellors,
*' the country of Normandy is one of the fattest in the world, and
1 promise you, at the risk of my headj that if you put in there yon
^liall take possession of land at your good pleasure, for the folk
there never were armed and all the flower of their chivalry is now
at Aiguillon with theu' duke; for certain^ we shall find there gold,
silver, victual, and all other good tilings in great abundance."
Edward adopted this advice ; and, on the 12th of July, 1346, his
fleet anchored before the peninsula of Cotentin at Cape la Hogue.
DTbilst disembarking! at the very first step he made on shore, the
kiug fell "so roughly," says Froissart, "that blood spurted from
his nose- "• Sir,' said his knights to him, ' go back to your ship,
uod come not now to land, for here is an lU sign for you/ 'Nay,
terily,* quoth the king full roundly, * it is a right good sign for
ma, since the land doth desire me,' " Caesar did and said much
the same on disembarking in Africa, and William the Conqueror on
landing in England, In spite of contemporary accounts there ig
a doubt about the authenticity of these strLking expressions which
become favourites, and crop up again on aU sim^Jar occasions.
For a month Edward marched his army over Normandy " find-
ing on his road," says Froissail}, '* the country fat and plenteous
in every thing, the garners full of corn, the houses full of all
manner of riches, can-iages, waggons and horses, swine, ewes,
wethers, and the finest oxen in the world." He took and plun-
dtfred on his way Barfleur, Cherbourg, Valognes, Carentan, and
VOL* u. H
98
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap, XX-
St. L6- WTien, on the 26th of July, be arrived before Ca^n, *' a
city bigger than any in England save London, and fuUtjf all kin<U
of merchandise, of rich burghei'Sj of noble dames, and of fine
churches," the population attempted to resist Philip had sent to
them the constable, Raonl d'Eu, and the count of Taucarville ;
but, after three days of petty fighting around the city and even
in the streets themselvea, Edward became master of it, and, on
the entreaty it is said of Godfrey d* Harcourt, exempted it from
pillage* Continuing his march, he occupied Louviers, Vernon,
Verneuil, Mantes, Meulan, and Poissy, where he took up his
quarters in the old residence of King Robert; and thence his
troops advanced and spread themselves as far as Ruel, Neuilly,
Boulogne, St, Cloud, Bourg4a-Reine and almost to the gates of
Paris, whence could be seen " the fire and smoke from burning
villages." " We ourselves," says a contemporary chronicler, ** saw
these things ; and it was a great dishonour that in the midst of
the kingdom of France the king of England should squander,
spoil and consume the king's wines and other goods," Great was
the consternation at Paris. And it was redoubled when Philip
gave orders for the demolition of the houses built along by the
walls of circumvallation, on the ground that they embari'assed the
defence. The people behoved that they were on the eve of a
siege. The order was revoked ; but the feeling became even more
intense when it was known that the king was getting ready to
start for St. Denis, where his principal allies, the king of Bohemia,
the dukes of Hainault and of Lorraine, the counts of Flanders and
of Blois, " and a very great array of baronry and chivalry " were
already assembled, '*Ah! dear sir and noble king," cried the
burghers of Paris as they came to Philip and threw themselves on
their knees before him, ** what would you dci? Would you thus
leave your good city of Paris? Your enemies are already within
two leagues, and will soon be in our city when tliey know that you
are gone; and wo have and shall have none to defend us against
them* Sir, may it please you to remain and watch over your good
city." *'My good people,'* answered the king, "have yo no fear;
the Englisli shall come no nigher to you ; I am away to St. Denis
to my men*at-arms, for I mean to ride against these English, and
Calf, XX,]
THE HUlSrDRED YEARS' WAR.
101
Bght tbem, in such fashion as I may/^ Philip recalled in all
fia«te his troops from Aqiiitainej commanded the burgher-forces
td assemble, and gave them, as he had given all his allies ^ St.
ID ems for the rallying* point. At sight of so many great lords and
wlU Borts of men of war flocking together from all points the
T^arisiang took fresh courage. " For many a long day there had
T\ot been seen at St- Denis a king of France ill arms and fiilly
prepared for battle/*
Edward began to be afraid of having pushed too far foT*wsii?d and
of finding himself endangered in the heart of Francej confronted by
an army which would soon be stronger than his own* Some
chronicles say that Philip, in his turn, sent a challenge either for
siDgle combat of for a battle on a fixed day, in a place assigned,
and that Edward, in his turn also, declined the proposition he had
but lately made to his rival. It appears, further, that at the
ttoment of commencing his retreat away from Paris he tried
ringing the changes on Philip with respect to the Hne he intended
to take, and that Philip was led to believe that the English army
v^uld fall back in a westerly direction, by Orleans and Tours,
"whereas it marched northward, where Edward flattered himself he
"would find partisans, counting especially on the help of the Flemings
"vho, in fulfilment of their promise, had already advanced as far as
^^thima to support him. Philip was soon better informed and
imreA with all his army into Picardy in pursuit of the English
army, which was in a hurry to reach and cross the Somme and so
ooutinue its march northward. It was more than once forced to
fight on its march with the people of the towns and country
tbrongh which it was passing ; provisions were beginning to fall
itiort ; and Edward sent his two marshals, the earl of Warwick and
G(4frey d'Har court, to discover where it was practicable to cross
the river, which at this season of the year and so near its moxith
ns both broad and deep. They returned without having any
saHsfactory information to report; ** whereupon," says Froissart,
**the king was not more joyous or leas pensive, and began to fall
into a great melancholy," He had halted three or four days at
Airaines, some few leagues from Amiens^ whither the king of
France bad arrived in pursuit with an army, it is said, more than a
102
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CuAP* XX#
hundred thousand Btrong. Philip learned through bis scouts that
the king of England would evacuate Airaiues the next morning, and
ride to Abbeville in hopes of findiug some means of getting over the
Somme. Philip immediately ordered a Norman baronj Godemar
du Fay, to go with a body of troops and guard the ford of Blanche-
Tachej below Abbeville, the only point at which^ it was said, the
EngUsh could cross the river; and on the same day ha himself
moved with the bulk of his army from Amiens on Airaines. There
he arrived about mid-day, some few hours after that the king of
England had departed with such precipitation that the French
found in it *' great store of provisionsj meat ready spitted, bread
and pastry in the ovenj winea in barrel, and ma^ny tables which the
English had left ready set and laid out." *'Birj" said Philip's
officers to him, as soon as he was at Airaines, " rest yon here and
wait for your barons and their folk, for the English cannot escape
you." It was concluded, in point of fact, that Edward and his
troopSj not being able to cross the Somme, would find themselves
hemmed in between the French army and the strong places of
Abbeville, Bt. Valery, and Le Orotoi, in the most evil case and
perilous poBition possible » But Edward, on arriving at the little
town of Oisemont, hard by the Somrae, set out in person in quest
of the ford he was so anxious to discover. He sent for some
prisoners he had made in the country, and said to them *' right
courteously/' according to Froissart, '"Is there here any man who
knows of a passage below Abbeville, whereby "we and our army
might cross the river without peril ?' And a varlet from a neigh-
bouring mill, wliose name history has preserved as that of a traitor^
Gobin Agace, said to the king, *8ir, I do promise you, at the risk
of my head, that I will guide you to such a spot, where you sh^
cross the river Somme without perils you and your army/ * Com-
rade,* said the king to liim, * if I find true that which thou tellest
u8, I win set thee free from thy prison » thee and all thy fellows for
love of thee, and I wiU cause to be given to thee a hundred golden
nobles and a good staUion/ ^' The varlet had told the truth ; the
ford was found at the spot called Blanche-Tache, whither Philip
had sent Godemar du Fay with a few thousand men to guard it.
A battle took place; but the two marshals of England, ** unfurling
Chap. XX,]
THE HUNDRED YEAES' WAIL
103
their banners in the name of God and St- GeorgCj and having with
them the most valiant and best mounted, threw themselves into
the water at full gallop, and there, in t}ie riverj was done many a
deed of battle, and many a man was laid low on one side and the
other> for Sir Godemar and his comrades did valiantly defend the
passage ; but at last the English got across, and moved forward
into the fields as fast as ever they landed. When Sir Godemar saw
the mishap, he made off as quickly as he could, and so did a many
of his comrades-" The king of France, when he heard the news,
was very wroth, "for he had good hope of finding the English on
the Somme and fighting them there* * What is it right to do
now?' asked Pliihp of his marshals* 'Sir,* answered they, *yoa
cannot now cross in pursuit of the English, for the tide is already
up.'" Philip went disconsolate to lie at Abbeville, whither all his
men followed him. Had he been as watchful as Edward was and
had he, instead of halting at Aii'aines " by the ready-set tables
which the English had left,*' marched at once in pursuit of them,
perhaps he would have caught and beaten them on the left
bank of the Somme, before they could cross and take up position
c^n the other side. This was the first striking instance of that
cistreme inequality between the two kings in point of abiUty and
energy which was before long to produce results so fatal for Pliilip.
Wlien Edward, after passing the Somme, had arrived near
Crfcy, five leagues from Abbeville, in the countship of Ponthien
wliich had formed part of his mother Isabers dowiy, " Halt we
Here," said he to his marshals; "I will go no farther till I have
Been the enemy; I am on ray mother's rightful mheritance which
1^'ttS given her on her marriage ; I will defend it against mine
adversary, Philip of Yalois ;' and he rested in the open fields, he
aid all his men, and made his marshals mark well the ground
where they would set their battle in array/* Philip, on his side,
M moved to Abbeville, where all his men came and joined him,
and whence he sent out scouts " to learn the truth about the
EwgUsh. When he knew that they were resting in the open fields
near Cr^y and showed that they were awaiting their enemies, the
kuig of France was very joyful, and said that, please God, they should
fight him on the morrow [the day after Friday, Aug. 25, 1346],
104
HISTORY OF FBANCEL
[Chap. XX.
He that day bade to supper all the high-born princes who were at
Abbeville- They were all in great spirits and liad great talk of
arms, and aftar supper the king prayed all the lords to be all of
them, one toward another^ friendly and courteous, without envy,
hatred, and pride, and every one made him a promise thereof. On
the same day of Friday the king of England also ^ve a supper to
the earls and barons of his army, made them great cheer, and then
gent them away to rest, which they did. When all the company
had gone J he entered into his oratory, and fell on his knees before
the altar, praying devoutly that God would permit him on the
morrowj if he should fight, to come out of the business with
honour; after which^ about midnight, he went and lay down. On
the morrow he rose pretty early, for good reason, heard mass with
the prince of Wales, his son, and both of them communicated •
The majority of his men confessed and put themselves in good
case. After mass the king commanded aU to get on their arms
and take their places in the field according as he had assigned
them the day before/* Edward had divided his army into thre©
bodies ; he had put the first, forming the van, under the orders of
the young prince of Wales, having about him the best and most
tried waniors; the second had for commanders earls and barons
in whom the king had confidence ; and the third, the reserve, he
commanded in person. Having thus made his arrangements,
Edward, mount4?d on a Httle palfrey, with a white staff in his hand
and his marshals in his train, rode at a foot-pace from rank to
rank, exhorting all his men, officers and privates, to stoutly defend
his right and do their duty ; and ** he said these words to them,"
says Froissart, " with so bright a smile and so joyous a mien that
whoso had before been disheartened felt reheartened on seeing and
hearing him/* Having finished his ride Edward went back to his
own division, giving orders for all his folk to eat their fill and
drink one draught : which they did. " And then they sat down
all of them on the ground, with their head-pieces and their hows
in front of them, resting themselves in order to be more fresh and
cool when the enemy should come/*
Philip also mi himself in motion on Saturday, the 26th of
August^ and, after having heard mass, marched out from Abbe-
Chap. XX,]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
105
I
ville with all his barons* ^* There was so great a throng of men-
at-arms there,*' says Froissartj " that it were a marvel to think
on, and the king rode mighty gently to wait for all his folk/'
When they were two leagues fi'om Abbeville, one of them that
were with him said, " Sir, it were well to put your lines in order
of battle and to send three or four of your knights to ride forward
and observe the enemy and in what condition they be," So four
knights pushed forward to within sight of the English, and, return-
ing immediately to the king^ whom they could not approach with-
out breaking the host that encompassed hira, they said by the
mouth of one of them, "Know, sir, that the Enghsh be halted,
well and regularly, in three lines of battle, and show no sign of
meaning to fly, but await your coming. For my part, my counsel
JBthat you halt all your men, and rest them in the fields through-
out this day. Before the hindermost can come up^ and before your
lines of battle are set in order, it will be late ; your men will be
laied and in disarray; and you will find the enemy cool and fresh*
To^moiTOw morning you will be better able to dispose your men
and determine in what quarter it will be expedient to attack the
enemy. Sure may you be that they will await you/* This counsel
wag well pleasing to the king of France, and he commanded that
thus it shonkl be* ** The two marshals rode one to the front and
the other to the rear with orders to the bannerets : * Halt banners,
by command of the king, in the name of God and St. Denis I' At
this order those who were foremost halted, but not those who
were hindermost, continuing to ride forward and saying that they
would not halt until they were as much to the front as the fore-
most were- Neither the king nor his marshals could get the
TDiBtery of their men, for there was so goodly a number of gi*eat
brds that each was minded to show hia own might. There was,
be^ideSj in the fields, so goodly a number of common people that
all the roads between Abbeville and Crecy were covered with
them; and when these folk thought themselves near the enemy
they drew their swords, shouting, * Death 1 death!' And not a
soul did they see,"
"When the English saw the French approaching they rose up
n» ftne order and ranged themselves in their lines of battle, that of
106
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XX.
the prince of Wdes right in frontj and the earls of Northampton
and Arundel, who commanded the second, took up their place on
the wing, right orderly and all ready to support the prince, if need
should be. Well, the lords, kings, dukes, counts and barons of
the French came not up all together, but one in front and another
behind, without plan or orderliness. When King Philip arrived at
the spot where the English were thus halted, and saw them, the
blood boiled within him, for he hated them, and he said to his
marshals, ' Let oui' Genoese pass to the front and begin the battle,
in the name of God and St, Denis.' There were there fifteen
thousand of these said Genoese bowmen ; but they were sore tired
with going a-foot that day more than six leagues and fully armed,
and they said to their commanders that they were not prepared to
do any great feat of battle. * To be saddled with such a scum as
this that fails you in the hour of need!' said the duke d'Alen^on
on hearing those words. Whilst the Genoese were holding back,
there fell from heaven a rain, heuvy and thick, with thunder and
lightning very mighty and terrible. Before long, however, the air
began to clear and the sun to shine. The French had it right in
their eyes and the Enghsh at their backs. ^Then the Genoese had
recovered themselves and got together they advanced upon the
English with loud shouts so as to strike dismay; but the English
kept quite quiet and showed no sign of it» Then the Genoese
bent their cross-bows and began to shoot. The English, making
one step forward, let fly their arrows, which came down so thick
upon the Genoese that it looked like a fall of snow. The Genoese,
galled and discomfited, began to fall back. Between them and
the main body of the French was a great hedge of men-at-arms
who were watching their proceedings. When the king of France
saw his bowmen thus in disorder he shouted to the men*at-arms,
* Up now and slay all this scum, for it blocks our way and hinders
us from getting forward/ " Then the French, on every side,
struck out at the Genoese, at whom the English archers continued
to shoot*
'* Thus began the battle between Broye and Cr^cy, at the hour
of vespers." The French, as they came up, were already tired
and in great disorder : " howbeit so many vahant men and good
Chat. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
107
I
^
I
knights kept ever ridiog forward for their honour's sake and pre-
rather to die than that a base flight should be cast in their
h," A fierce combat took place between them and the division
of the prince of Wales. Thither penetrated the count d'Alenfon
and the count of Flanders with their followers, round the flank of
the English archers; and the king of Francej who was foaming
Tirith displeasure and wrathj rode forward to join his brother
d'Alen^on, but there was so great a hedge of archers and men-at-
anas mingled together that he could never get past. Thomas of
Norwich, a knight serving under the prince of Wales, was sent to
tlie king of England to ask him for help. " * Sir Thomas,' said the
king, * is my son dead or unhorsed or so wounded that he cannot
Iielp himself?' * Not so, my lord, please God; but he is fighting
against great odds and is like to have need of your help.' ' Sir
Thomas/ replied the king, * return to them who sent yoUj and tell
tbem from me not to send for me, whatever chance befall them, so
btig as my son is alive, and tell them that I bid them let the lad
win his spurs ; for I wish, if God so deem, that the day should be
liis, and the honour thereof remain to him and to those to whom
I have given him in charge/ The knight returned with this
answer to his chiefs ; and it encouraged them greatly, and they
repented within themselves for that they had sent him to the
king." Warlike ardour, if not ability and prudence, was the same
on both sides, Philip's faithful ally, John of Luxembourg, king of
Bobemia, had come thither, blind as he was, with his son Charles
and his knights ; and when he knew that the battle had begun he
a^ked those who were near him how it was going on- "* My lord/
iWy said, * the Genoese are discomfited and the king has given
orders to sky them all ; and all the while between our folk and
them there is so great disorder that they stumble one over another
vWd hinder us greatly/ * Ha !' said the king ; * that is an ill sign
fcr us; where is Sir Charles, my son ?' *My lord, we know not;
we have reason to believe that he is elsewhere in the fight/ * Sirs,'
Pephed the old king; *ye are my liegemen, my friends and my
coairades ; I pray you and require you to lead me so far to the
front ill the work of this day that I may strike a blow with my
sword; it shall not be said that I came hither to do naught/ So
108
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap, XX.
his train, who loved Ms honour and their own advancement,*' saya
Froissarfcj ** did his bidding. For to acquit theraBelves of their
duty and that they might not lose him in the throng they tied
themselveB all together by the reins of their horses and get the
king, their lord, right in front that he might the better accomplish
his desire, and thus they bore down ob the enemy. And the king
went so far forward that he struck a good blow, yea three and
four ; and so did all those who were with him. And they served
him so well and charged so well forward upon the EngHsh, that all
fell there and were found next day on the spot around their lord,
and their horses tied together/*
" The king of France," continues Froissart, *^ had groat anguish
at heart when he saw his men thus discomfited and falling one
after another before a handful of folk as the EngHsh were. Ho
asked counsel of Sir John of Hainault who was near him and who
said to him, * Truly, sir, I can give you no better counsel than
that you should withdraw and place yourself in safety, for I see no
remedy here. It will soon b© late ; and then you would be as
likely to ride upon your enemies as amongst your friends, and so
be lost/ Late in the evening, at nightfall, King Philip left the
field with a heavy heart — and for good cause ; he had just five
barons with him and no more I He rode, tpite broken-hearted, t^
the castle of Broye, When ha came to the gate, he found it shut and
the bridge drawn up, for it was fiilly night and was very dark and
thick. The king had the castellan summoned, who came forward
on the battlements and cried aloud, * Who's there? who knocks
at such an hour?' * Open, castellan,' said Philip: *it is the
unhappy king of France.* The castellan went out as soon as
he recognised the voice of the king of France ; and he well knew
alremly that they had been discomfited, fi'om some fugitives who
liad passed at the foot of the castle^ Ho let down the bridge and
opened the gate. Then the king, with his following, went in, and
remained there up to midnight, for the king did not care t^ stay
and shut himself up therein. He drank a draught and so did they
who were with him ; then they mounted to horse, took guides to
conduct thorn and rode in such wise that at break of day they
entered the good city of Amiens* There the king halted, took up
his quarters in an abbey, and said that he would go no farther
until ha knew the truth about his men, which of them were left on
the field and whicli had escaped*"
Whilst PhiUp, with all speed, was on the road back to Paris with
his army as disheartened as its king, and more disorderly in retreat
than it had been in battle, Edward was hastening, with ardoui* and
int^Uigencei to reap the fruits of his victory. In the difficult war
of conquest ho had undertaken, what was clearly of most importance
to liim was to possess on the coast of France, as near as possible to
England, a place which he might make, in his operations by land
and S6a» a point of arrival and departure, of occupancy, of pro-
visioning and of secure refuge, Calais exactly fulfilled these con-
ditions. It was a natural harbour, protected, for many centuries
padt, by two huge towers, of which one, it is said, was built
by the Emperor Caligula and the other by Charlemagne ; it had
been deepened and improved, at the end of the tenth century, by
Baldwin IV., count of Flanders, and in the thirteenth by PhiUp of
France, called Toughskin (Hurepel), count of Boulogne; and, in
the fourteenth, it had become an important city, surrounded by a
strong wall of circumvallation and ha\nng erected in its raidst a
liuge keep, furnished with bastions and towers, which was called
ihc Castle. On arriving before the place, September 3rd, 1346,
Edward '* immediately had built all round it," says Froiasart,
"houses and dwelling-places of sohd carpentry and arranged in
reets as if he were to remain there for ten or twelve years, for his
fttention was not to leave it winter or summer, whatever time and
wliataver trouble he must spend and take. He called this new
town Villeiieiwe la Ilardle ; and he had therein all things necessary
For an army, and more too, as a place appointed for the holding of
a market on Wednesday and Saturday ; and therein were mercers'
ihops and butchers' shops and stores for the sale of cloth and
bread and all other necessaries. King Edward did not have the
city of Calais assaulted by his men, well knomng that he would
lojse bis pains, but said he would starve it out, however long a
time it might cost him, if King Philip of Fiance did not come to
fight him again, and raise the siegB.**
Calais had for its governor John de Vienne, a valiant and faithful
no
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap, XX.
BurgiindiaTi knight, *'tlie wtich, seeing/' gays Froissartt " that the
king of England was making every sacrifice to keep up the siege,
ordered tliat all sorts of small folk, who had no provisions, should
quit the city without further notice. They went forth, on a
Wcdneaday morning, men, women, and children, more than seven-
teen hundred of them> and passed through King Edward's army.
They were asked why they were leaving; and they answered,
hecauBo they had no means of living. Then the king permitted
them to pass and caused to be given to all of theins male and
female, a hearty dinner and after dinner two shillings a-piece, the
which grace was commended as ybtj handsome ; and bo indeed it
was," Edward probably hoped tliat his generosity would produce,
in the town itself which remained in a state of siege, a favourable
impression ; but he had to do with a population ardently warlike
and patriotic, burghers as well as knights. They endured for
eleven months all the sufferings arising from isolation and famine;
though, from time to time, fishermen and seamen in their neigh-
bonriiood, and amongst others two seamen of Abljeville, the names
of whom have been preserved in history, Marant and Mestriel,
Buccebded in getting victuals into them. The king of France made
two attempts to relievo them. On the 20th of May, 1347, he assem*
bled Ills troops at Amiens; but they were not ready to march till
about the middle of July, and as long before as the 23rd of June a
Fix*nch fleet of ten galleys and thirty-five transports had been
driven off by the Enghsh, John de Vienne wrote to Philip,
** Every tlting lias been eaten, cats, dogs, and horses, and we can
no longi?r find victual in the town unless we eat human flesh. , . ,
If we have not speedy succour, we will issue forth from the town to
fight, whether to live or die, for we would rather die honourably in
the field timn eat one another, . . ♦ If a remedy be not soon applied,
you will never more have letter from me, and the town will be lost
as well as wo who are in it, Jfay oiu* Lord grant you a happy life
and a long, and put you in such a disposition that, if we die
for your sake, you may settle the account therefor with our heirs !*'
On the 27th of July Philip arrived in person before Calais. If
Proiasart can be trusts, " he had with him full 200,000 men, and
these French rode up with banners flying as if to fight, and it was
ICHAr. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
Ill
I
I
a fine sight to see such puissant array ; and so when they of Calais
who were on the walls saw them appear and their banners floating
on the breeze they Iiad gi*eat joy, and believed that they were going
to be soon delivered I But when thoy saw camping and tenting
going forward they were more angered than before, for it seemed
to them an evil sign," The marahals of France went about
every where looking for a passage, and they reported that it was no
where possible to open a road without exposing the army to loss,
30 well all the approaches to the place, by sea and land, were
guarded by the English. The pope's two legates who had accom*
paiiied King Philip tried in vain to open negotiations, Philip sent
ibiir knights to the king of England to urge him to appoint a place
where a battle might be fought without advantage on either side ;
but '*sirs/* answered Edward^ " I liave been here nigh upon a year,
and have been at heavy charges by it ; and having done so much
thut before long I shall be master of Calais I will by no means
retard my conquest which I have so much desired* Let mine
adversary and his people find out a way, as they please, to fight
me."
^ Other testimony would have us believe that Edward accepted
£hilip*e challenge, and that it was the king of France who raised
iesh difficulties in consequence of whicli the proposed battle did
not take place, Froissart's account, however, seems the more
truthlike in itself and more in accordance with the totality of facts*
However that may be, whether it were actual powerlessness or want
of spirit both on the part of the French army and of the king;
Philip, on the second of August, 1347, took the road back to
I Amiens and dismissed all those who had gone with him, men-
at-arms and common folk.
When the people of Calais saw that all hope of a rescue had
dipped from them, they held a council, resign eil themselves to offer
gubmisgioii to the king of England rather than die of hunger, and
begged their governor, John de Vienna j to enter into negotiations
for timt purpose with the besiegers, "Walter de Manny, instructed
by Edward to reply to these overtures, said to John de Vienne,
**The king*8 intent is that ye put yourselves at his free will to ransom
or put to d^th such as it shall please him i the people of Calais
112
HISTORY OP FRANCE.
[Chap. XK-
have caused him so great displeasure, cost him so much money aod
lost him so many men that it is not astonishing if that weighs
heavily upon him/' *' Sir Walter," answered John de Vieuiie, **it
would be too hard a matter for us if we were to oonaent to what
you say. There are within here but a small number of us knights
and squires who have loyally served our lord the king of Francis
even as you would serve yours in like case ; but we would suffer
greater evils than over men havo had to endure rather than consent
that the meanest 'prentice-boy or varlet of the town should have
other evil than the greatest of us. We pray you be pleased to
return to the king of England ^ and pray him to have pity upon ub ;
and you will do us courtesy/* ** By my faith/' answered Walter
de Manny, '* I will do it AvilUngly^ Sir John; and I would that, by
God's help, the king might be pleased to listen unto me/* And
the bi^ve English knight reported to the king the prayer of the
French knights in Calais, saying, *' My lord, sir John de Vieune
told me that they were in very sore extremity and famine, but that,
rather than surrender all to your will to Hve or die as it might
please you, they would sell themselves so dearly as never did men-
at-arms/' '^ I will not do otherwise than I have said/' answerer]
the king. ''My lord/' replied Walter, "you will perchance be
wrong, for you will give us a bad example ; if you should be pleased
to send us to defend any of yoiu* fortressesj we should of a surety
not go willingly if you have these people put to death, for thus
would they do to us in like case/' These words caused Edward to
reflect; and the gi^ater part of the English barons came to the aid
of Walter de Manny. " Sirs/' said the king, " I would not be all
alone against you all. Go, Walter, to them of Calais, and say to
the governor that the greatest grace they can find in my sight
is that six of the most notable burghers coma forth from their town
bare-headed, bare-footed, with vopeB rouud their necks and with
the keys of the town and castle in their hands. With them I will
do according to my will, and the rest 1 will receive to mercy/'
" My lord," sfud Walter, *' I mil do it willingly/' He returned t<J
Calais, where John de Vienne was awaiting him, and reported the
king's decision. The governor immediately left the ramparts, went
to the market-place, and had the bell rung to assemble the people.
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAB.
118
r
I
I
At sound of the bell men and women came hnriying up hungering
for news, as was natural for people so luu^d-pressed by famine that
they could not hold out any longer. John de Vienue then repeated
to them what he had just been told, adding that there was no other
way and tliat they would have to make short answer. On this they
all fell a-weeping and crying out so bitterly that no heart in the
world, however hard, coidd have seen and heard them without
pity. Even John de Vienne shed tears. Then rose up to his feet
the richest burgher of the town, Eustace do St. Pierre^ who, at the
former council, had been for capitulation, " Sir," said he, ** it
would be great pity to leave this people to die, by famine or
otherwise, when any remedy can be found against it ; and he who
should keep them from such a mishap would find great favour in
the eyes of our Lord, I have great hope to find favour in the eyes
of our Lord if I die to save this people; I would fain be the first
herein and I will willingly place myself, in my shirt and bare-
beaded and with a rope round my neck, at the mercy of the king of
England/^ At this speech, men and women cast themselves at the
ket* of Eustace de St. Pierre, weeping piteously. Another right-
honourable biirglier, who had gi^at possessions and two beautiful
damsels for daughters, rose up and said that he would act comrade
to Eustace de St. Pierre ; his name was John d'Aire, Then, for
th^ third, James de Vissant, a rich man in personalty and realty;
then his brother Peter de Vissant ; and tlien the fiftli and sixth, of
whom none lias tc»ld the names. On the 5th of August, 1347, these
iijt burghers, thus apparelled, with cords round their necks and
emh with a bunch of the keys of the city and of the castle, were
eonducted outside the gates by John de Vienne who rode a small
hackney, for lie was in such ill pHght that he could not go a-foot.
He gave them up to Sir Walter, who was awaiting him, and said
U> him^ *' As captain of Calais I deliver to you, with the consent of
the poor people of the tow^n, these six burghers who are,*! swear to
yon, the most honourable and notable in person, in fortune, and in
ancestry, in the town of Calais, I pray you be pleased to pray the
king of England that these good folks be not put to death/' " I
know not," answered De Manny, *' what my lord the king may mean
to do with them ; but I promise you that 1 will do mine abihty."
Hi
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[CttAF. XX.
When Sii' Walter brought in the six burgherg in this condition.
King Edward was in his chamber with a great company of eails,
barons, and knights. As soon as he heard that the folks of Calaini
were there as he had ordered^ he went out and stood in the open
space before his hostel and all those lords with him ; and even
Queen Philippa of England, who was with child, followed the king
her lord. He gazed most cruelly on those six poor men, for he had
bis heart possessed with so much rage that at first he could not
speak. Wlien he spoke, he commanded tiiem to be straightway
beheaded. All the barons and knights who were there pmyed lura
to show them mercy. ** Gentle sir,'* said Walter de Jtanny,
" restrain your wrath ; you have renown for gentleness and noble*
ness ; be pleased to do nought whereby it may be diminished; if
you have not pity on yonder folk, all others wiW say tliat it wm
great cruelty on your part to put to death these six honourable
burghers who of their own free-will have put themselves at your
mercy to save the others," The king gnashed his teeth, saying,
*' Sir Walter, hold your peace ; let them fetch hither my headsnmn j
the people of Calais have been the death of so many of my men
that it is but meet that yon fellows die also.*' Then, with gre-at
humility J the noble queen, who was very nigh her delivery, tlirew
herself on her knees at the feet of the king, sajnng, " Ah ! gentle
sir, if, as you know, I have asked nothing of yon from the time
that I crossed the sea in gi^eat peril, I pray you humbly that as a
special boon, for the sake of Holy Mary's Son and for the love of
me, you will please to have mercy on these six men/' The king
did not speak at once, and fixed his eyes on the good dame Ids wife,
who was weeping piteously on her knees. She sofbened his eteru
heart, for he would have been loth to vex her in the state in which
she was ; and he said to her, '' Ha ! dame, I had much rather you
had been elsewhere than here ; but you pray me such prayers tliat
I dare iiofrrefuseyou, and though it irks me much to do so, there !
I give them up to you ; do with them as you will," ** ThankBj_
hearty thanks, my lord," said the good queen. Then she rose
and raised up the six burghers, had the ropes taken off theii
necks, and took them with her to her chamber where she had
fresh clothes and dinner bmught to them. Afterwards she gave
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Chaf. XX.}
THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR.
117
fcfaem six nobles a-piece and had them led out of the host io all
safety,
Edward was eholeric and stern in his choler, but judicious and
politic. He had sense enough to comprehend the impressions ex-
hibited around him and to take them into account. He had
yielded to the free-spoken representations of Walter de Manny and
to the soft entreaties of bis royal wife- When he was master of
Calais^ he did not suffer himself to be under any illusion as to the
sentiments of the population he had conquered, and, without ex*
eluding the French from the town, he took great care to mingle
with them an English population. He had allowed a free passage
to the poor Calaisians driven out by famine ; he now fetched from
London thirty-six bm'gbers of position and three hundred others
of inferior condition, with their wives and children, and he granted
to the town thus de peopled and repeopled all such municipal and
eommercial privileges as were likely to attract new inhabitants
thither. But, at the same time, he felt what renown and im-
portance a devotion like that of the six burghers of Calais could
not fail to confer upon such men, and not only did he trouble him-
telf to get them back to their own hearths, but, on the 8th of
October, 1347, two months after the surrender of Calais, he gave
Eustace de St- Pierre a considerable pension " on account of the
good services he was to render in the town by maintaining good
order there,'* and he re-instated him, him and his heirs, in pos^
sesabn of the properties that had belonged to him. Eustace,
more concerned for the interests of his own town than for those
of FrancCj and being more of a Calaisian burgher than a national
l>atriot, showed no hesitation, for all that appears, in accepting this
new fashion of serving his native city for which he had shown
himself so ready to die. He lived four years as a subject of the
king of England. At his death, which happened in 1361 , his heirs
daelai^ themselves faithful subjects of the king of France and
Mward confiscated away from them the possessions he had re-
itored to their predecessor. Eustace de St- Pierre's cousin and
Comrade in devotion to their native town, John d'Aire, would not
filter Calais again ; his property was confiscated, and his house,
tie finest^ it is said, in the town, was given by King Edward to
118
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XX,
Queen Pliilippaj who sliowed no more hesitiition in accepting it
than Eustace in serring his new king. Long-lived delicacy of
sentiment and conduct was rarer in those rough and rude times
than heroic bursts of courage and devotion,
Philip of Valoia tried to afford some consolation and supply
some remedy for the misfortune of the Calaisians banished from
their town* He secured to theiu exemption from certain imposts
no matter whither they removed, and the possession of all property
and inheritances that might fall to them, and he promised to confer
upon them all vacant offices which it might suit them to filL But
it was not in his gift to repair, even superfcially and in appear-
ance, the evils he had not known how to prevent or combat to any
purpose. The outset of his reign had been brilliant and pros-
perous ; but his victory at Cassel over the Flemings brought more
cry than wool. He had vanity enough to flaunt it rather than wit
enough to turn it to account. He was a prince of courts and
trOurnaments and trips and galas^ wliether regal or plebeian j he was
volatile, imprudent, haughty and yet frivolous, brave without
ability and despotic without any thing to show for it. The battle
of Crecy and the loss of Calais were reverses from which he never
even made a serious attempt to recover ; he hastily concluded with
Edward a truce, twice renewed, which served only to consohdate
the victor's successes. A calamity of European extent came as an
addition to tlie distresses of France. From 1347 to 1349 a fright-
ful disease^ brought from Egypt and Syria through the ports of
Italyj and called the blnck playm or the plague of Fhreme^ ravaged
Western Europe, especially Provence and Langiiedoc, where it
carried off, they say, two-thirds of the inhabitants. Machiavelli
and Boccacio have described with all the force of their genius the
matCTial and moral effects of this terrible plague- The court of
France suffered particularly from it, and the famous object of
Petrarch's tender sonnets, Laura de Noves, married to Hugh de
Sade, fell a victim to it at Aviguon. ^^en the epidemic had well
nigh disappeared, the survivors, men and women, princes and
subjects, returned passionately to their pleasures and their galas ;
to mortality ^ says a contemporary chronicler, succeeded a rage for
marriage; and Philip of Valois himself, now fifty *eight years of
Chap. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
119
I
I
%ige^ took for his second wife Blanche of Navarre, who was only
eighteen » She was a sister of that yoimg king of Navarre,
Charles IT., who was soon to get the name of Charles the Bad^ and
to become so dangerous an enemy for Philip's successors* Seven
months after his marriage and on the 22nd of Aii gust, 1350, Philip
died at Nogent-le-Roi in the Haute- Marne, strictly enjoining his
son John t^ maintain with vigour his well ascertained right to the
crown he wore, and leaving his people bowed down beneath a
weight '* of extortions so heavy that the like had never been seen
in the king«iom of France."
Only one happy event distinguished the close of this reign. As
early as 1344} Philip had treated, on a monetary basis, with Hum--
hert n*, count and Dauphin of Vienness, for the cession of that
beautiful province to the crown of France after the death of the
then possessor* Humbert, an adventurous and fantastic prince,
plunged, in 1346, into a crusade against the Turks, from which he
rt'tamed in the following year without having obtained any suc-
cess. Tired of seeking adventures as well as of reigning, he, on
the 16th of July, 1349, before a solemn assembly held at Lyons,
abdicated his principality in favour of Prince Charles of France,
gmndson of Philip of Valois and afterwards Charles V. The new
dauphin took the oath, between the hands of the bishop of Gren-
oble, to maintain the hberties, franchises and privileges of the
Daiiphiny; and the ex-dauphin, after having taken holy orders
and passed successively through the archbishopric of Rheims and
the bishopric of Paris, both of which he found equally unpalatable,
went to die at Clermont in Auvergne, in a convent belonging to
tlie order of Dominicans, whose habit he had donned.
In the same year, on the 18th of April, 1349, Philip of Valois
hoiigbt of Jayme of Arragon, the last king of Majorca, for 120,000
golden crowns, the lordship and town of Montpellier, thus tiying
to repair to some extent, for the kingdom of France, the losses he
had caused it-
Hie successor, John 11,, called the Good, on no other ground
than that he was gay, prodigal, credulous and devoted to his
&voarite8, did nothing but reproduce, with aggravations, the faults
and reverses of his father. He had hardly become king when h^
120
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Crap. XX
witnessed the airival in Paria of the constable of Francej Raoul,
count of Eu and of Guines, wliom Edward III. Lad made prisoner
at CaeDj and who, after five years' captivity » had just obtained,
thftt is, purcliased his liberty, Raoul lost no time in huiTyiiig to
the side of the new king, by whom he believed himself to be greatly
beloved, John, as soon as he perceived hira, gave him a look,
saying, " Count, come tliis way with me ; I have to speak w^^b
you aside/' *' Right willingly, my lord." The king took him into
an apartment, and showing him a letter, asked^ *^ Have you ever>
count, seen this letter any where but here?*' The constable ap-
peared astounded and troubled, '' All ! wicked traitor,*' said the
king, ** you have well deserved death, and, by my father's soul, it
shall assuredly not miss you*;" and he sent him forthwith to
prison in the tower of the Louvre, ** The lords and barons of
Fi'ance were sadly astonished," says Froissart, ^' for they lieM the
count to be a good man and true, and they humbly prayed tie
king that he would be pleased to say wherefore he had imprisoned
their cousin, so gentle a knight, who had toiled so much and so
much lost for hira and for the kingdom. But the king would not
say any thing, save that he 'would never sleep so long as the count
of Guines was living ; and he had hira secretly beheaded in the
castle of the Louvre, whether rightly or wrongly; for which the
king was greatly blamed, behind his back, by many of the barons
of high estate in the kingdom of France and the dukes and counts
of the border/' Two months after this execution, John gave the
office of constable and a large portion of Count Raours property
to his favourite, Charles of Spain, a descendant of King Alphonso
of Castille and naturalisied in France ; and he added thereto before
long some lands claimed by the king of Kavarre, Cliarles the Bml^
a nickiiame which at eighteen years of age he had already received
from his Navarrese subjects, but which had not prevented King
John from giving him in marriage his own daughter, Joan of
France, From that moment a deep hatred sprang up between the
king of Navarre and the favourite. The latter was sometimes
disquieted thereby. ** Fear naught from my son of Navan-e,**
said John, " he durst not vex you, for, if ho did, ho would have no
greater enemy than myself.** John did not yet know his son-iu-
Cl4F. xxo
THE HUNDRBD YEARS* WAR.
121
law. Two years later^ in 1354| his favourite, Charles of Spain,
siirived at Laigle in Normandy, The king of Navarre, having
notice thereof, instruct^ed one of his agents, the bastard de Mareuil,
to go with a troop of raen-at-arais and surprise him in that town ;
nod be himself remained outside the walls, awaiting the result of
his design • At break of day, he saw galloping up the bastard de
Mureutl who shouted to him from afar, " 'Tis done.'* " What is
done?" asked Charles. '* He is dead," answered MareuiL King
Joim's favourite had been surprised and massacred in his bed.
JoliE burst out into threats ; he swore he would have vengeance,
and made preparations for war against his son-in-law. But the
king of England promised his support to the king of Navarre.
Charles the Bad was a bold and able intriguer ; he levied troops
and won over allies amongst the lords ; dread of seeing the recom-
mencement of a war with England gained ground; and amongst
the people and even in the king's council there was a cry of
"Peace with the king of Navarre !" John took fright and pre*
tended to give up his ideas of vengeance ; he received his son-in-
W, wbo thanked him on bended knee. But the king gave him
%mer a word. The king of Navan'e, uneasy but bold as ever,
oontinued his intrigues for obtaining partisans and for exciting
trotibles and enmities against the king* " I will have no master in
Franca but myself,'* said John to his confidant : ** I shall have no
joy so long as he is living," His eldest son, the young duke of
Nonnandy, who was at a later period Cliarles V*, had contracted
fmndly relations with the king of Navarre, On the IGth of April,
1356, the two princes were together at a banquet in the castle of
Bouen, as well as the count d'Harcourt and some other lords. All
ou a sudden King John, who had entered the castle by a postern
«"ith a troop of men-at-arms, strode abruptly into the hall, preceded
bjthe marshal Aj'noul d'Audenham, who held a naked sword in
til hand, and said, " Let none stir, whatever he may see, unless he
wiih to fiill by this sword/* The king went up to the table; and
^I rose as if to do him reverence . John seized the lang of
NivErre roughly by the arm, and drew him towards him, saying,
"Gefc up, traitor, thou art not worthy to sit at my son's table; by
^j father's soul I cannot think of meat or drink so long as thou
122
HISTORY OF FHANCE,
[Chap.
art living.*' A servant of the king of Navarre, to defend his
master, drew his cutlass, and point<?d it at the breast of the king
of France J who thrust him back, saying to liis sergeants, " Take
me this fellow and his master too." The king of Navarre dis-
solved in humble protestations and repentant speeches over the
assasgination of the constable Charles of Spain* " Go, traitor^ go,**
answered John • " jon will need to learn good rede or some in-
famons trick to escape from me/' The young duke of Normandy
had thrown himself at the feet of the king his father, erj-ing,
*' Ah ! ray lord, for God's sake have mercy ; you do rae dishonour ;
for what will be said of me, having prayed King Charles and his
barons to dine with me, if you do treat me thus ? It will be said* \
that I betrayed them," *' Hold your peace, Charles,'* answered
his father : " you know not all I know/' He gave orders for the
instant removal of the king of Navarre and afterwards of the count
d'Harconrt and three others of those present under arrest • ** Bid
us of these men,*' said he to the captain of the Ribahh^ forming the !
soldiers of his guard; and the four prisoners were actually be-
headed in the king's presence, outside Rouen, in a field called th^H
Field of pardon, John was with great diflSculty prevailed iipo^«
not to mete out the same measure to the king of Navarre, who
was conducted first of all t-o Gaillard Castle, then to the tower of
the Louvre, and then to the prison of the Chatelet : ** and there,"
says Froissart, " they put him to all sorts of discomforts and fears, [
for every day and every night they gave him to understand that
his head would be cut off at such and such an hour, or at such and
such another he would be thrown into the Seine - . , . whereupon '
he spoke so finely and so softly to his keepers that they who were
so entreating him by the command of the king of France had
great pity on him."
With such violence, such absence of all legal procedure, such
mixture of deceptive indulgence and thoughtless brutality did
King John treat his son-in-law, his own daughter, some of his
princi|fel barons, theii' relations, their friends, and the people with
whom they were in good credit. He compromised more and moru
seriously every day his own safety and that of his successor by
vexing more and more without destroying his most dangerous
Cm?. XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS^ WAR,
125
enemy. He showed no greater prudence or ability in the goyerii-
ment of his kingdom. Always in want of money, because he spent
it foolishly on galas or presents to his tavourites, he had recourse,
for the purpose of procuring it, at one time to the very worst of all
fiuancial expedients, debasement of the coinage ; at another^ to
disreputable imposts, such as the tax upon salt and upon the sale
of all kinds of merchandise. In the single year of 1352 the value
of a silver mark varied sixteen times, from 4 livres 10 sous to 18
liYTea* To meet the requirements of his government and the
greediness of his courtiers John twice, in 1356 and 1356, convoked
the states-general, to the consideration of which we shall soon recur
in detail, and whicli did not refuse him their support ; but John
\md not the wit either to make good use of the powers with which
he was furnished or to inspire the states-general with that con-
fidence which alone could decide them upon continuing their gifts.
And^ nevertheless, King John's necessities were more evident and
more urgent than ever : war with England had begun again.
The truth is that, in spite of the truce still existing, the English,
m^ the accession of King John, had at several points resumed
hostihties. The disorders and dissensions to which France waa a
prey, the presumptuous and hare-brained incapacity of her new
iiog were for so ambitious and able a prince as Edward IIL very
ng temptations. Nor did opportunities for attack and chances
of success fail him any more than temptations. He found in France,
amongst the grandees of the kingdom and even at the king's court,
men disposed to desert the cause of the king and of France to serve
a prince who had more capacity and who pretended to claim the
cmwD of France as his lawful right. The feudal system lent itself
to ambiguous questions and doubts of conscience : a lord who had
two suzerains and who, rightly or wrongly, believed that he had
cauBe of complaint against one of them, was justified in serving
that one who could and would protect him* Personal interest and
lubtle disputes soon make traitors ; and Edward had the ability to
diacDver them and win them over. The alternate outbiu'sts and
Weaknesses of John in the case of those whom he suspected ; the
iuares he laid for them; the precipitancy and cruel violence
with which ho struck them down, without form of trial and almost
126
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap- XX.
with his own hand, forbid history to receive his Buspicious and his
forcible proceedings as any kind of proof ; but amongst those whom
he accused there were undoubtedly traitors to the king and to
France, There is one about whom there can be no doubt at all*
As early as 1351, amidst all his embroilments and all his reoon-
ciMationa with liis father*in-laWj Charles the Bad, king of Navarre,
had concluded with Edward III* a secret treaty, whereby, in ex-
change for promises he received, he recognized his title as king of
France- In 1355 his treason burst forth. The king of Navarre,
who had gone for refuge to Avignon, nnder the protection of
Pope Clement VI., crossed France by English Aquitaine, and
went and landed at Cherbourg, which he had an idea of throwing
open to the king of England. He once more entered into commu*
nications with King John, once more obtained forgiveness from
him, and for a while appeared detached from his English alUance.
But Edward III. had openly resumed his hostile attitude; and he
demanded that Aquitaine and the countship of Ponthieu, detached
from the kingdom of Franco, should be ceded to him in full
sovereignty, and that Brittany should become all but independent,
John haughtily rejected these pretensions which were merely a
pretext for recommencing war. And it recommenced accordingly,
and the king of Navarre resumed his course of perfidy. He had
lands and castles in Normandy, which John put under seques-
tration and ordered the officers commanding in them to deliver up
to him* Six of them, the commandants of the castles of Cher-
bourg and Evreux amongst others, refused, believing, no doubt,
that in betraying France and harking, they were remaining faithful
to their own lord.
At several points in the kingdom, especially in the northern
provinces, the first-fruits of the war were not favourable for the
English. King Edward, who had landed at Calais with a body of
troops, made an unsuccessful campaign in Artois and Picardy and
was obliged to re-embark for England, ftilhng back before King
John, whom he had at one time offered and at another refused to
meet and fight at a spot agreed upon. But in the south-west and
south of France, in 1355 and 1356, the prince of Wales at the head
of a small picked army and with JohnChandos for comrade, victo-
Ce4P, XX.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
riously overran Limousin, Perigord, Languedoc, Auvergne, Berry,
and Poitoii, ravaging tlie country and plundering the towns into
which he could force an entrance and the environs of those that
delended themselves behind their walls. He met with scarcely
any resistance, and he was returning by way of Beny and Poitou
back again to Bordeaux when he heard that King John, starting
from, Normandy with a large army, was advancing to give him
battle. John, in fact^ with easy self-coraplacency and somewhat
proud of liis petty successes against King Edward in Picardy, had
been in a hurry to move against the prince of Wales, in hopes of
forcing him also to re-einbark for England. He was at the head
of forty or fifty thousand men, with his four sons, twenty-six
dukes or counts, and nearly all the baronage of France ; and such
was his confidence in this noble army, that on crossing the Loire
lie dismissed the burgher forces, *' which was madness in him and
in those who advised him," said even his contemporaries* John,
even more than his father Philip, was a king of courts, ever
surrounded by his nobility and caring little for his people. Jealous
of the order of the Garter lately instituted by Edward III. in honour
of the beautiful countess of Salisbury, John had created in 1361, by
way of following suit, a brotherhood called Ou/r Lady of the Noble
Souse or of the Sta/r^ the knights of which, to the number of five
bundred, had to swear that if they were forced to recoil in a battle
tbey would never yield to the enemy more than four acres of
^und, and would be slain rather than retreat, John was destined
to find out before long that neither numbers nor bravery can supply
the place of prudence, ability, and discipline. When the two armies
were close to one another on the platform of Maupertuis, two
leagues to the north of Poitiers, two legates from the pope came
Imrrying up from that town with instructions to negotiate peace
hetween tlie kings of France, England , and Navarre. John con-
sented to an armistice of twenty-four hours. The prince of Wales,
Keeing liimself cut ofi" from Borfeanx by forces very much superior
to bin own, for he had but eight or ten thousand men, offered to
n?store to the king of France *' all that he had conquered this bout,
l>otli towns and castles, and all the prisoners that he and his had
taken^ and to swear that^ for seven whole years, he would bear arms
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CiiAF. XX.
no more against the king of France;" but King Jdlin and hig
council would not accept any thing of the sort, saying that *'th#
prince and a huntlrcd of his knights must come and put themselves
as prisonors in the hands of the king of France/' Neither the
prince of Wales nor Chandos had any hesitation in rejecting such
a demand : " God forbid/' said Chandos, *' that we ehould go
without a figlit ! If we be taken or discomfited by so many fine
men-at-arms and in so great a host we shall incur no blame ; and
if the day be for us and fortune be pleased to consent thereto we
shall be the most honoured folk in the world,** The battle took
place on the 19th of September, 1356, in the morning. There m
no occasion to give tlie details of it here as was done but lately in
the case of Cr^cy ; we should merely have to tell an almost per-
fectly similar story. The three battles, wliich, from the fourteenth
to the fiftetnxth century were decisive as to the fate of Franoe, to wit,
Ci^cy, on the 26th of August, 1346; Poictiers, on the 19th of
September, 1356; and A?Jncourt, on the 25th of October, 1415,
considered as historical events, were all alike, offering a spt*ctacie
of the same faults and the same reverses brought about by the
same causes. In all three, no matter what was the difference in
date, place, and persons engaged, it was a case of undisciplined foreeft,
without co-operation or order, and ill-directed by their cx>m<-
manders, advancing, bravely and one after another, to get broken
against a compact force under strict command and as docile as
heroic. From the battle of Poictiers we will cull but that glonous
feat which was peculiar to it, and which might be called as unfor-
tunate as glorious if the captivity of King John had been a mis-
fortune for Franoe. Nearly all his army had been beaten and
dispersed; and three of his sons, ^ith the eldest, Charleay dukaof
Normandy, at their head, had left the field of battle with the wreck
of the divisions they commanded. John still remained there witli
the knights of the Star, a band of faithful knightg fi'om Picnrdy,
Burgundy, Normandy, and Poitou, his constable the duke of
Artois, his standard-beai^r Geoffrey de Charny, and his youngest
son Philip, a boy of fourteen, who clung obstinately to his side,
saying every instant, ** Father, ware right! father, ware left!'*
The king was surrounded by assailants, of whom some did and
Chap. XX,]
THE HUNDRED YEARS'
some did not know him and all of whom kept siioiitiDg, " Yield
yati! yield you ! else you die.*' The banner of France fell at his
ride; for Geoffrey de Charny was slain, Denis de Morbecque, a
bight of St, Omer, made his way up to the king, and said to him
iDg^od French, '' Sir, sir, I pray you, yield !" " To whom shall
I yield me?" said John: "where is my cousin the prince of
ffaka ?•* " Sir, yield you to me ; I will bring you to him. " " Who
are jou?*' "Denis de Morbecque, a knight of Artois; I serve the
ting of England, not being able to live in the kingdom of France,
Itrlhave lost all I possessed there/* " I yield me to you/' said
John ; and he gave his glove to the knight, who led him away " in
tlie midst of a great press, for every one was dragging the king,
^J^gf * I took him I ' and he could not get forward nor could my
lord Philip, his young son, . . _ The king said to them all, * Sirs,
conduct me courteously, and quarrel no more together about the
t^ing of mcj for I am rich and great enough to make every one
of you rich/ ** Hereupon, the two English marshals, the earl
of Warwick and the earl of Suffolk, " seeing from afar this throng,
g»ve spur to their steeds, and came up, asking, *What is this
yonder ?* And answer was made to them : ' It is the king of
France who is taken, and more than ten knights and squires would
fain have him/ Then the two barons broke through the throng
by dint of their horses, dismounted and bowed full low before the
kbg, who was very joy ftxl at their coming, for they saved him from
great danger/' A very little while afterwards the two marshals
"entered the pavilion of the prince of Wales, and made him a
present of the king of France; the which present the pnnce could
BOt but take kindly as a great and noble one, and so truly he did,
for be bowed full low before the king, and received him as king,
pmperly and discreetly, as he well knew how to do. . . . ^Vlien
erening came the prince of Wales gave a supper to the kuig of
Franco and to my lord Phili[], his son, and to the greater part of
the barons of France who were prisoners, * . . And the prince
would not sit at the king's table for all the king's enti-eaty, but
waited as a serving-man at the king*s table, bending the knee before
him, and sajing, *Dear sir, be pleased not to put on so sad a coun-
lenanca because it hath not pleased God to consent this day
K 2
THE STATE S'GENEEAL OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTUBy,
[ET us turn back a little, in order to understand the
government and position of King John before he en-
gaged in the war which so far as he was concerned
euded with the battle of Poitiers and imprisonment in Bng-
A valiant and loyal knight, but a f rivolouB, hare-brained, thought-
Jesa, prodigal, and obstinate as well as impetuous prince, and even
more incapable than Philip of Valois in the practice of govern-
laetit, John J after having summoned at his accession, in 1351, a
states-assembly concerning which we have no exphcit information
I feft to tts, tried for a space of four years to suffice in himself for
' iD the perils, difficulties and requirements of the situation he had
^ found bequeathed to him by his father* For a space of four years,
fin order to get money, he debased the coinage, confiscated the
goods and securities of foreign merchantSj and stopped payment of
I hk debts ; and he went through several provinces, treating with
eounclls or magistrates in order to obtain from them certain
134
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[CnAF- XXI.
siibsidiea which he purchased by granting them new priTileges.
He hoped by his institution of tho order of the Star to resuscitate
the chivab*oue zeal of his nobility. All these means were vain or
insufficient. The defeat of Cr^cy and the loss of Calais had caused
discouragement in the kingdom and aroused many doubts as to
the issue of the war with England., Defection and even treason
brought trouble into the court, the councilSpand even the family of
John* To get the better of them ho at one time heaped favours
upon the men he feared, at another he had them arrested, im-
prisoned, and even beheaded in his presence. He gave his daughter
Joan in marriage to Charles the Bad^ king of Navarre, and, some
few months afterwards, Charles himself, the real or presumed
head of all the traitors, was seized, thrown into prison and treated
with extreme rigour, in spite of the supplications of his wife, who
vigorously took the part of her husband against her father, Aftar
four years thus consumed in fruitless endeavours, by turns violently
and feebly enforced, to reorganize an army and a treasury, and to
purchase fidelity at any price or arbitrarily strike down treason,
John was obliged to recognize his powerlessness and to call to his
aid the French nation, still so imperfectly formed, by convoking at
Paris, for tho 30th of November, 1355, the states- general of Lmujm
d^oil^ that is, Northern France, separated by the Dordogue and
the Garonne from Lmigae d'oc^ which had its own assembly dis-
tinct, Auvergne belonged to Laugiis d*oiL
It is certain that neither this assembly nor the king who convokeii
it had any clear and fixed idea of what they were meeting together
to do. The kingship was no longer competent for its own govern*
ment and its own perils; but it insisted none the less, in principle,
on its own all but unregulatesd and unlimited power. The assembly
did not claim for tho country the right of self-government, but it had
a strong leaven of patriotic sentiment and at the same time wu
very much discontented witli the king*s government : it had equally
at heart the defence of France against England and against the
abuses of the kingly power. There was no notion of a social
struggle and no systematic idea of poHtical revolution ; a dan-
gerous crisis and intolerable sufferings constrained king and nation
to coma together in order to make an attempt at au understand-
I
ing and at a mutual exchange of tbe supports and the reliefs of
which thoy were in need.
On the 2nd of December, 1355, the three orders, the clergy, the
nobility and the deputies from the towns assembled at Paris in
the great hall of the Parliament. Peter de la Forest, archbishop
of Rouen and chancellor of France, asked them in the king's name
** to consult together about making him a subvention which should
suffice for the expenses of the war," and the king offered to " make
a sound and durable coinage," The tampering with the coinage
wm the most pressinjif of the grievances for which the thj^ee orders
solicited a remedy* Thoy declared that *^ they were ready to live
and die with the king and to put their bodies and what they had
at his service ;" and they demanded authority to deliberate together
— which was granted them, John de Craon, archbishop of Rheims ;
Walter de Brienne, duke of Athens ; and Stephen Marcel, provost
of the tradesmen of Paris, were to report the result, as presidents,
each of his own order. The session of the states lasted not more
than a week. They repUed to the king '' that they would give him
a subvention of 30,000 men*at-arms every year," and, for their pay,
tl^y voted an impost of f/ffj handred thonmnd Imres (five millions
of Uvres), which was to be levied " on all folks, of whatever con-
dition they might bo. Church folks, nobles, or others,** and the
gabel or tax on salt ^* over the whole kingdom of France," On
separating, the states appointed beforehand two fresh sessions at
which they woukl assemble, " one, in the month of March, to esti-
JMte the sufficiency of the impost and to hear, on that subject, the
report of the nine superintendents charged with the execution of
their decision ; the other, in the month of November following, to
examine into the condition of the kingdom,"
They assembled, in fact, on the Ist of March, and on the 8th
of May* 1356 [N.B. as the year at that time began with Easter,
the 24tb of April was the first day of the year 1 350: the new style,
wwer, is here in every case adopted] ; but they had not the
tion of finding their authority generally recognized and
their patriotic pui'pose effectually accomplished. The impost they
had voted, notably the salt-tax, had mot with violent opposition.
"When the news thereof reached Normandy," says Froissart,
136
HISTOET OF FRANCE*
[CeAP, XXI.
" the country was very much astounded at it^ for ttey had not
learnt to pay any such thing. The count d*Harcourt told the folks
of Rouen, where he was puissant, that they would bo very serfs
and yeiy wicked if they agreed to this tax, and that, by God's
help, it should never bo current in his country/* The king of
Navarre used much the game language in his countship of
Evreux, At other spots the mischief was still more Berious.
Close to Paris itself, at Melun, payment was peremptorily refused ;
and at Arras, on the 5th of March, ISSB, ^* the commonalty of the
town,*' says Froissart, " rose upon the rich burghers and slew
fourteen of the most substantial, which was a pity and loss ; and
BO it is when wicked folk have the upper hand of valiant men.
However the people of Arras paid for it afterwards, for the king
sent thither his cousin, my lord James of Bourbon, who gave
orders to take all them by whom the sedition had been caused
and, on the spot, had their heads cut off/'
The states-general at their re-assembly on the 1st of March,
1356, admitted the feebleness of their authority and the insuifi-
ciency of their preceding votes for the purpose of aiding the king in
the war. They abolished the salt-tax and the sales-duty which
had met with such opposition; but, staunch in their patriotism ai
loyalty, they substituted therefor an income-tax, imposed on eve
sort of folk, nobles or burghers, ecclesiastical or lay, which was
be levied " not by the high justiciers of the king, but by the folks of
the three estates themselves.*' The king's ordinance, dated th©
12th of March, 1356, which regulateB the execution of these
different measures, is (article 10) to this import : "there shall be>
in each city, three deputies, one for each estatt*. These deputies
shall appoint, in each parish, collectors who shall go into the
houses to receive the declaration which the persons who dwell
there shall make touching their property, their estate, and their
servants. Wlion a declaration shall appear in conformity with
truth, thi\v whali be content therewith ; else they shall have him
who has made it sent before the deputies of the city in the district
whereof he dwells, and the deputies shall cause him to take, on this
subject, such oaths as they shall think proper, , , , The collectors
in the villages shall cause to be taken therein, in the presence
^^^ ^' ..Ai^ll
CliimtES THE BAI>*
Chap. XXL] STATES-GENEBAL OF FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 139
tiw pasfcofj suitable oatlis on the subject of the deelarations. If, in
fhe towns or villages, any one refuse to take the oaths demanded,
tiiB collectors shall assess his property according to general opinion
and on the deposition of liis neighbours ** {Onlomtances d£s Rou ds
France f L iv, pp. 171^175).
In return for so loyal and persevering a co-operation on the part
of the 6tat€8-general, notwithstanding the obstacles encountered by
their votes and their agents, K^i^g John confirmtd expressly, by
«in ordinance of May 26th, 13 50 [art. 9 : Ordomuiuces dets Rfm ds
FruMe^ t. iii, p, 55], all tlie promises he had made them and all
tbe engagements he had entered into with them by his ordinance
ef December 28th, 1355, given immediately after their first session
{Ihlikm^ t. iii. pp. 19 — 37) : a veritable reformatory ordinance
wtiicb enumerated the various royal abuses, <'idmini strati ve, judi-
cial, financial, and military, against whlcli there had been a public
claoiour, and rcgiilat'ed the manner of redressing them.
After these mutual concessions and promises the states-general
broke up, adjourning until the 30th of November following (1356) ;
but two months and a half before this time King John, proud of
aoiae success obtained by hira in Normandy and of the bnlhant
army of knights remaining to him after he had dismissed the
burgher-forces, rushed, as has been said, with conceited impe-
i\mity to encounter the prince of Wales, rejected with insolent
demands the modest proposals of withdrawal made to him by the
comraander of the little English army and, on the 19th of September,
lost, contrary to all expectation, the lamentable battle of Poitiers*
We have seen how he was deserted before the close of the action
By bis eldest son. Prince Charles, with his body of troops, and how
he himself remained with his youngest son. Prince Pliilip, a boy of
fourteen years, a prisoner in the hands of his victorious enemies*
**At tliis news,'* says Froissart, "the kingdom of France was
greatly troubled and excited, and with good cause, for it was a
right grievous blow and vexatious for all sorts of folk. The wise
laen of the kingdom might well predict that great evils would come
of it, for the king, their head, and all the chivalry of the kingdom
irare slain or taken ; the knights and squires who came back home
Were on that account so hated and blamed by the commoners
uo
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXI
tbat they liad great difficulty in gaining admittance to the goc
towns; and the king's three bohs who had returned, Charles,
Louis, and JoliBj were very young in years and experience, and
there was in them such small resource that none of the said lads
liked to undertake the government of the said kingdom/' ^|
The eldest of the three. Prince Charles, aged nineteen, who was
called the Dauphin after the cession of Dauphiny to France,
nevertheless assumed the office, in spite of his youth and his
any thing but glorious retreat from Poitiers, He took the title of
lieutenant of the king, and had hardly re-entered Paris, on the
29th of September, when he summoned, for the 15th of October,
the states-general of Langue d'oil, who met, in point of fact, on the
17th, in the great chamber of parliament, " Never was seen," saj^|
the report of their meeting, ''an assembly so numerous, or com^
posed of wiser folk.'* The superior clergy were there almost to a
man ; the nobility had lost too many in front of Poitiers to be
abundant at Paris, but there were counted at the assembly four
hundred deputies from the good towns, amongst whom special
mention is made, in the documents, of those from Amiens, Touraay,
Lille, Arras, Troyes, Auxerre, and Sens. The total number of
members at the assembly amounted to more than eight hundred.
The session was opened by a speech from the chancellor, Peter
de la Forest, who called upon the estates to aid the dauphin with
their councils under the serious and melancholy circumstances of
the kingdonii The three orders at first attempted to hold their
deliberations each in a separate hall ; but it was not long before
they felt the inconveniences arising from their number and their
separation, and they resolved to choose from amongst each order
commissioners who should examine the questions together aud
afterwards make their report and their proposals to the genaril !
mcHi^ting of the estates. Eighty commissioners were accordingly
elected and set themselves to work* The dauphin appointed some
of his officers to be present at their meetings, and to fuminh them
witli such information as they might require. As early as the second
day '* these officers were given to understand that the deputies
would not work whilst any body belonging to the king's council
was with them." So tho officers withdrew ; and a few days after-
Chap, XXI,] STATES-GENERAL OF FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 141
wards, towards the end of October, 1356, tlio commiasionera
re|)orted the result of their confereBces to each of the three orders.
Tlie general assembly adopted their proposals and had the dauphin
informed that, they were desirous of a private audience. Charles
repaired, mth some of his councillors, to the monastery of the
CordeUers, where the estates were holding their sittings, and there
he received their representations. They demanded of him "that
lie should deprive of their offices such of the king's councillors as
th$j should point out » have them arrested, and confiscate all their
property. Twenty-two men of note, the chancellor, the premier
preaident of the parliament, the king's stewards, and several officers
in the household of the dauphin himself were thus pointed out.
They were accused of having taken part to their own profit in all
tb abuses for which the government was reproached, and of
hflving concealed from the king the true state of things and the
misery of the people. The commissioners elected by the estates
tere to take proceedings against them ; if they were found guilty,
they were to be punished ; and if they were innocent, they were at
the very least to forfeit their offices and their property, on account
of their bad counsels and their bad administration/'
The chronicles of the time are not agreed as to these last
deraands- We have, as regards the events of this period, two
contemporary witnesses, both full of detail, intelhgence, and
animation in their narratives, namely, Froissart and the continuor
of William of Nangis' Latin Chroniele. Froissart is in general
faYourable to kings and princes ; the anonymous chronicler, on
tlie contrary, has a somewhat passionate bias towards the popular
party. Probably both of them are often given to exaggeration in
their assertions and impressions ; but, taking into account none
but undisputed facta, it is evident that the claims of the states-
general, though they were for the most part legitimate enough at
hot torn, by reason of the number, gravity, and frequent recur-
n?Bce of abuses, were excessive and violent, and produced the
effect of complet-e suspension in the regular course of govern-
ment and justice- The dauphin, Charles, was a young man, of a
B&turally aouud and coUccted mind, but without experience, who
had hitherto lived only in his father's court, and who could not
142
mSTORT OF FRANCE.
[Chap-
help being deeply shocked and disquieted by such demands. He
was still more troubled when the estates demanded that tl
deputies, under the title of refornicrSj should traverse the provin
as a clieck upon the malversations of the royal officials^ and th
twenty-eight delegates, cliosen from amongst the three orde:
four prelates, twelve knights, and twelve burgesses, should be
constantly placed near the king's person " vrith power to do and
order every thing in the kingdom, jtist like the king himself, as
well for the purpose of appointing and removing public officers m
for other matters." It was taking away the entire govommen:
from the crown and putting it into the hands of the estates.
The dauphin's surprise and suspicion were still more vivid wh
the deputies spoke to bim about setting at liberty the king of
Navarro, who had been imprisoned by King John, and told him
that ** since this deed of violence no good had come to the king or
the kingdom because of the sin of having imprisoned the said king
of Navarre,'* And yet Charles the Bad was already as infamous
as he has remained in history; ho had laboured to embroil the
dauphin with his royal father ; and there was no plot or intrigue,
whether with the malcontents in France or with the king of
England, in which he was not, witli good reason, suspected of
having been mixed up and of being ever ready to be mi^ed up.
He was clearly a dangerous enemy for the public peace as well as
for the erown, and, for the states*general who were demanding his g
release, a bad associate. ^|
In the face of such demands and such forebodings the dauphin
did all he could to gain time. Before he gave an answer lie must
know, he said, what subvention the states-general woidd be willing
to grant him. The reply was a repetition of the promise of thirty
thousand men-at-arms, together with an enumeration of the several
taxes whereby there was a hope of providing for the expense. But
the produce of these ta^es was so uncertain that both pai-ties
doubted the worth of the promise. Careful calculation wont to
prove that the subvention would suffice at the very most for tb|
keep of no more than eight or nine thousand men. The estati
were urgent for a speedy compHance with their demands. The
dauphin persisted in his policy of delay. He was threatened with
I
a public and solemn Bession at which all the questions should be
brought before the people^ and which was fixed for the 3rd of
November* Great was the excitement in Paris ; and the people
fihowed a diBposition to support the estates at any price. On the
2iid of November the dauphin summoned at the Lonyro a meeting
of lii« eouncillorg and of the principal deputies ; and there he
aMioiiDced that ho was obliged to set out for MetZj where he was
going to follow up the negotiations entered into with the Emperor
Cljarles r\^- and Popo Innocent Yh for the sake of restoring peace
between France and England, He added that the deputies^ on
retiu^ing for a while to their provinces, should get themselves
enlightieiied as to the real state of affairs, and that he would not
feil to recall them so soon as he had any important news to tell
diem and any assistance to request of them.
It was not without serious grounds that the dauphin attached
80 much importance to gaining time. When, in the preceding
month of October, he had summoned to Paris the states-general of
Langm d*ml^ he had likewise convoked at Toulouse those of
Imgue (Toe^ and he was informed that the latter had not only just
Toted a levy of fifty thousand men-at-arms with an adequate
subsidy, but that, in order to show their royaUst sentiments, they
Wl decreed a sort of public mourning, to last for a year, if King
John were not released from his captivity. The dauphin's idea
wag to summon other provincial assemblies from which he hoped
for iimilar manifestations. It was said, moreoverj that several
deputies, already gone from Paris, had been ill-received in their
towna, at Soissons amongst others, on account of their excessive
claimg and their insulting language towards all the king's coun-
cillors. Under such flattering auspices the dauphin set out,
acoDrding to the announcement he had made, from Paris, on the
5th of December, 1356, to go and meet the Emperor Charles IV.
at Met35; but, at his depai-ture, he committed exactly tbe fault
which was likely to do him the most harm at Paris : being in want
of money for his costly trip, he subjected the coinage to a fresh
adulteration, which took efiFect five days after his departure.
The leaders in Paris seized eagerly upon so legitimate a grieV'
anoo for the support of their claims. As early as the 3rd of the
144
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXL
preceding November, when they were apprised of the daupUia*i
approachiog departure for Metz and the adjournment of their
sittings, the states-general had come to a decision that their
remonstrances and demands, summed up in twenty-one articlea,
should be read in general assembly, and that a recital of the
negotiations which had taken place on that subject between the
estates and the dauphin i^hould be likewise di^aw^n up, **iii order
that all the deputies might be able to tell in their districts
wherefore the answers had not been received/* When, after the
dauphin's departure, the new debased coins were put in circulationi
the people were driven to an outbreak thereby, and the provost of
tradesmen, ** Stephen Marcel, hurried to the Louvre to demand of i
the count of Anjou, the dauphin's brother and lieutenant, a with- 1
drawal of the decree. Having obtained no answer, he returned thai
nezt day escorted by a throng of the inhabitants of Paris. At
length, on the third day, the numbers assembled were so consider-!
able that the young prince took alarm, and suspended the execution
of the decree until his brother's return. For the first time Stephen |
Marcel had got himself supported by an outbreak of the people ;
for the first time the mob had imposed its will upon the ruHng^J
power; and from this day forth pacific and lawful resistance
transformed into a violent struggle."
At his re-entry into Paris, on the 19th of January, 1357* the
dauphin attempted to once more gain possession of some sort of
authority. He issued orders to Marcel and the sheriffs to remove
the stoppage they had placed on the currency of the new coinage.
This was to found his opposition on the worst side of his case.
" We will do nothing of the sort,'* replied Marcel ; and in a few
moments, at the provost's orders, the work-people left their work,
and shouts of " To arms ! " resounded through the streets. The
prince's councillors were threatened with death. The dauphin saw
the hopelessness of a struggle ; for there were hardly a handful of
men left to guard the Louvre. On the morrow, the 20th of January,
he sent for Marcel and the sherifts into the great hall of parUament,
and giving way on almost every point bound himself to no longer)
issue new coin, to remove from his council the officers who had]
been named to him, and even to imprison them until the return oP
I
I
Chap. XXL] STATES-GENERAL OF FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 147
hie father, who would do full justice to them. The estates were at
tlie same time authorized to meet when they pleased : '* on all
which points the provost of tradesmen requested letters which
were granted him ;" and he demanded that the dauphin should
immediately place sergeants in the houses of those of his council-
lore who still happened to be in PariSj and that proceedings should
be taken without delay for making an inventory of their goods with
a view to confiscation of them.
The estates mot on the 5th of February. It was not without
surprise that they found themselves less numerous than they had
hitherto been. The deputies from the duchy of Burgundy, from
the oountships of Flanders and Alen^on, and several nobles and
burghers from other provinces, did not repair to the session. The
kingdom was falling into anarchy; bands of plunderers roved
hither and thither^ threatening persons and ravaging lands ; the
magistrates either could not or would not exercise their authority ;
disquietude and disgust were gaining possession of many honest
folks. Marcel and his partisans, having fallen into somewhat of
disrepute and neglect, keenly felt how necessary and also saw how
easy it was for them to become completely masters. They began
by drawing up a series of propositions which they had distributed
and spread abroad far and wide in the provinces. On the 3rd of
Mafch they held a public meeting, at which the dauphin and his
two brothers were present. A numerous throng filled the hall.
The bishop, of Laon, Robert Lecocq, the spokesman of the party,
inade along and vehement statement of all the public gi'ievanqeSjand
declared that twenty-two of the king's officers should be deprived
for ever of all offices, that all the officers of the kingdom should be
provisionally suspended, and that reformers, chosen by the estates
and commissioned by the dauphin himself, should go all over
Fmnce, to hold inquiries as to these officers, and, according to their
deserts, either reinstate them in their offices or condemn them-
it the same time the estates boimd themselves to raise thirty
thousand men-at-arms whom they themselves would pay and keep;
and as the produce of the impost voted for this piu^pose was very
uncertain, they demanded their adjournment t-o the fortnight of
Bflfiter, and two sessions certain, for which they should be free to
L 2
148
HISTORY OF PRANCE.
[Chap. XXI.
fix the times before the 15th of February in the following year.
This was simply to decree the permanence of their power* To all
these demands the dauphin offered no resistance. In the month
of March following* a grand ordinance, drawn up in sixty-one
articles, enumerated all the grievances which had been complained
of, and prescribed the redress for them. A second ordinance,
regulating all that appertained to the suspension of the royal
officers, was likewise* as it appears, drawn up at the same time,
but has not come down to us* At last a gi'and commission was
appointedj composed of thirty-six members, twelve elected by each
of the three orders, " These tliirty-six persona," says Froissart,
" were bound to often meet together at Paris, for to order the
affiiirs of the kingdom, and all kinds of matters were to be
disposed of by these three estates, and all prelates, all lords,
and all commonalties of the cities and good towns were bound to
be obedient to what these three estates should order," Ha\ang
their power thus secured in their absence, the estates adjourned to
the 25th of April.
The rumour of these events reached Bordeaux, where, since the
defeat at Poitiers, King John had been living as the guest of the
prince of Wales rather than as a prisoner of the English. Amidst
the galas and pleasures to which he abandoned himself he was in-
dignant to learn that at Paris the royal authority was ignored, and
he sent three of his comrades in captivity to notify to the Parisians
that he rejected all the claims of the estates, that he would not
have payment made of the subsidy votad by them, and that he for-
bade their meeting on the 25th of April following. This strange
manifesto on the part of imprisoned royalty excited in Paris such
irritation amongst the people, that the dauphin hastily sent out of
the city the king's three envoys* whose lives might have been
threatened, and declared to the thirty-six commissioners of the
estates that the subsidy should be raised, and that the general
assembly should be perfectly free to meet at the time it had
apixjinted*
And it did meet towards the end of April, but in far fewer
numbers than had been the case hitherto, and with more and more
division from day to day. Nearly all the nobles and ecclesiastics
Cbap. XXI.] STATES-GENEHAL OF FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 149
I
I
were withdrawing from it ; and amongst the burgesses themselves
noaoy of the more moderate spituts were becoming alarmed at
the violent proceedings of the commission of the thirty-six dele-
gates who, under the direction of Stephen Marcel, were becoming
a sDmll oligarchy, little by little usurping the place of the great
national assembly: A crj^ was liaised in the provinces " against
the injustice of those chief governors who were no more than ten
or a dozen;*' and there was a refusal to pay the subsidy voted.'
These symptoms and the disorganization which was coming to a
head throughout the whole kingdom made the dauphin think that
the moment had arrived for him to seize the reins again. About
the middle of Angus t^ 1337, he sent for Marcel and three sheriffs,
accustomed to direct matters at Paris, and let thera know " that
he intended thenceforward to govern by himself, without curators/'
He at the same time restored to office some of the lately dismissed
royal officers. The thirty-six comiiiisaioners made a show of sub-
miBsion ; and their most faithful ecclesiastical ally, Robert Lecocq,
bishop of Laon^ returned to his diocese. The dauphin left Paris
and went a trip into some of the provinces, halting at the principal
towns J such as Rouen and Chartres, and every where, with intel-
ligent but timid discretion, making his presence and his will felt,
not very successfully, however, as regarded the re-establishment of
aome kind of order on his route in the name of the kingship.
Marcel and his partisans took advantage of his absence to shore
their tottering supremacy. They felt how important it wag
for them to have a fresh meeting of the estates, whose presence
alone could restore strength to their commissioners; but the
dauphin ordy could legally summon them. They, therefore, eagerly
pressed him to i^eturn in person to Paris, giving him a promise
that, if he agreed to convoke there the deputies from twenty or
thirty towns, they would supply him with the money of which he
was in need, and would say no more about the dismissal of royal
officers or about setting at liberty the king of Navarre* The
dftuphin, being still young and trustful, though he was already dis-
creet and reserved, fell into the snare. He returned to Paris, and
wimmoneil thither, for the 7th of November following, the deputies
from seventy towns, a sufficient number to give their meeting a
150
HISTORY OF FRAKCE.
[CiiAP^ XXI.
specious resemblance to the states-gencraL One circumstance
ought to have caused him some glimmering of suspicion. At the
same time that the dauphin was sending to the deputies his letters
of convocation, Marcel himself also sent to them, as if he pofiaeesed
the right, either in his own name or in that of the thirty*six
delegate-commissioners, of calliiig them together* But a still
more serious matter came to open the dauphin's eyes to the danger
he had fiillen into. During the night between the 8th and 9th of
November, 1357> immediately after the reopening of the states^
Charles the Bad^ king of Navarre, was carried ofif by a surprise
from the castle of Arleux in Cambr^Ssis, where he had been confined ;
and his liberators removed him fii*st of all to Amiens and then to
Paris itself, where the popular party gave him a triumphant recep-
tion. Marcel and las sheriffs had decided upon and prepared, at a
private council, this dramatic incident, so contrary to the promises
they had but lately made to the dauphin. Charles thti Bad used
his deliverance like a skilful workman; the very day after his
arrival in Paris he mounted a platform set against the walls of
St, Germain's abbey, and there, in the presence of mom than t<>n
thousand persons, burgesses and popuhvce, he dehvered a long
speech, " Beasoned with much venom,*' says a chonicler of the
time. After liavLng denounced the wrongs which he had l>i*en
made to endure, he said, for eighteen months past, he declared
that he would live and die in defence of the kingdom of France,
giving it to be understood that '*if he wei^ minded to claim the
crown, be would soon show by the laws of right and wrong that
he was nearer to it than the king of England was/' He was
insinuating, eloquent, and an adept in the art of making truth
subserve the cause of falsehood. The people were moved by his
speech. The dauphin was obliged not only to put up with the
release and the triumph of his most dangerous enemy, but to make
an outward show of reconciliation with him, and to undertake not
only to give hira back the castles confiscated after his arrest, but
** to act towards him a^ a good brother towards his brother.*'
These were the exact words made use of in the dauphin^ii
name, *' and without having asked his pleasiu'e about it/' by
Robert Lecocij, bishop of Laon, who himself also had returned
Chap, XXI.] STATES-GENERAL OF FOURTEENTH CENTURY, 151
from hia diocese to Paris at the time of the recall of the
estates.
The consequences of this position were not slow to exhibit
themselves, Whilst the king of Navarre was re-entering Paris and
the dauphin submitting to the necessity of a reconcihation with him,
several of the deputies who had but lately returned to the states-
general, and amongst others nearly all those from Champagne and
Burgundy, were going away again, being unwilling either to
witness the triumphal re-entry of Charles the Bad or to share the
responsibility for such acts as they foresaw. Before long the
itmggle or rather the war between the king of Navarre and the
dauphin broke out again; several of the nobles in possession of the
les which were to have been restored to Charles the Bad, and
especially those of Breteuil, Pacy-sur-Bure, and Pont-Audemer,
flatly refused to give them back to him; and the dauphin was
suspected, probably not without reason, of having encouraged
them in their resistance. Without the walls of Paris it was really
war that was going on between the two princes. Philip of Navarre,
brother of Charles th3 Bad^ went marching with bands of pillagers
over Normandy and Anjou, and within a few leagues of Paris,
declaring that he had not taken and did not intend to take any
,rt in his brother's pacific arrangements, and carrying fire and
«word all through the country. The peasantry from the ravaged
districts were overflowing Paris, Stephen Marcel had no mind to
reject the support wliich many of them brought him ; but they had
to be fed and the treasury was empty. The wreck of the states-
general, meeting on the 2nd of January, 1358, themselves had
PBcourso to the expedient which they had so often and so violently
reproached the king and the dauphin with employing : they notably
depreciated the coinage, allotting a fifth of the profit to the dauphin
and retaining the other four-fifths for the defence of the kingdom,
Wliat Marcel and his party called the defence of the kingdom was the
works of fortification round Paris, begun in October^ 1356, against
the English, aftiT the defeat of Poitiers, and resumed in 1358
nst the dauphin's party in the neighbouring provinces, as weU
I M against the robbers that were laying them waste. Amidst all this
military and popular excitement the dauphin kept to the Louvre,
152
HISTOHY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXL
having about Mm two thousatid men-at-arms whom he had taken
into his pay, bo said^ solely '*on account of the prospect of a war with
the Navarrese/^ Before he went and plunged into a civil war outsido
the gates of Paris ho resolved to make an effort to win back tho
Parisians themselves to his cause. He sent a crier through die
city to bid the people assemble in the market-place, and thither
repaired on horseback^ on the 11th of January, with five or six'
of his most trusty servants. The astonished mob thronged alxiut
him and he addressed them in vigorous language. He meant,
said, to live and die amongst the people of Paris ; if he
collecting his men-at-arms, it was not for the purpose of plundei
ing and oppressing Paris, but that he might march against thd|
common enemies ; and if he had not done go sooner it was becaua
*' the folks who had taken the government gave him neither mont
nor arms ; but they would some day be called to strict account for
it/* The dauphin was small, thin, delicate, and of insignificaut_
appearance ; but at this junctm*e he displayed unexpected boldnc
and eloquence; the people were deeply moved; and Marcel
his friends felt that a heavy blow had just been dealt them.
They hastened to respond with a blow of another sort.. It wn
every where whispered abroad that if Paris was suffering so much
from civil war and the irregularities and ealaniities which were tlwj
concomitants of it, the fault lay with the dauphin's surrounding
and that his noble advisers deterred him from measures which
would save the people from their miseries, ** Provost Marcel and
the burgesses of Paris took counsel together and decided that it
would be a good thing if some of those attendants on the regent
were to be taken away from the midst of this world. They all put
on caps, red on one side and blue on the other, which they wore as
a sign of their confederation in defence of the common weah Thi
done, they reassembled in large numbers on the 22nd of Februai
1358, with the provost at their head, and marched to the pi
where the duke was lodged,'* This crowd encountered on ita way?
in the street called Juiverie (Jewry), the advocate-general, Regriault
d'Acij one of the twenty-two royal officers denounced by the estatei
in the preceding year; and he was massacred in a pastry*cook\s
shop. Marcelj continuing his road, arrived at the^ palace, and
kipended, followed by a band of armed men, to the apartments of
■ffie dauphin, ** whom he requested very sharply/* says Froissart,
**to restrain so many companies from roving about on all sides,
damaging and plundering the country* The duke replied that he
would do so willingly if he had the wherewithal to do it, but that
it was for him who received the dues belonging to the kingdom to
discharge that duty, I know not why or how," adds Froissart,
** but words were multiplied on the part of all, and became very
high.'* '* My lord duke," suddenly said the provost, " do not
alarm yourself ; but we have somewhat to do here;'' and turning
towards his fellows in the caps, he said, " Dearly beloved, do that
for the which ye are come." Immediately the lord de Conflans,
marshal of Champagne^ and Robert do Clermont, marshal of
Normandy, noble and valiant gentlemen, and both at the time
unarmed, were massacred so close to the dauphin and his couch,
that his robe was covered with their blood. The dauphin shud-
dered; and the rest of his officers fled, ''Take no heed, lord
duke/* said Marcel; **you have naught to fear," He handetl to the
dauphin his own red and blue cap and himself put on the dauphin's,
which was of black stuff with golden fiinge. The corpses of the
two marshals were dragged into the courtyard of the palace, where
they i-emained until evening without any one*s daring to remove
them ; and Marcel with his fellows repaired to the mansion-house,
»nd harangued from an open window the mob coDected on the
Place de Greve, " What has been done is for the good and the
profit of the kingdom," said he; '* the dead were false and wicked
traitors/' ** We do own it and will maintain it !** cried the people
who were about him.
The house from which Marcel thus addressed the people was hia
own property, and was called the IHllar-honse. There he accom-
modated the town-council, which had formerly held its sittings in
divers parlours.
For a month after this triple murder^ committed with such
official paradt*, Marcel reigned dictator in Paris, He removed from
^he council of thirty-six deputies such members as he coidd not
rely upon, and introduced his own confidants* He cited the council,
tliUH modified, to express approval of the blow just struck ; and
Chap, XXL] STATES -GENERAL OF FOUHTEENTH CENTURY. 155
156 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXI.
the deputies, " some from conviction and others from doiiht (that
is, fear), answered that they believed that for what had been done
there had been good and just cause." The king of Navarre was
recalled from Nantes to Paris, and the dauphin was obliged to
assign to him, in the king's name, " as a make-up for his losses,"
10,000 livres a year on landed proix*rty in Languedoc. Such
was the young prince's condition that, almost every day, he was
reduced to the necessity of dining with his most dangerous and
most hypocritical enemy. A man of family, devoted to the dauphin,
who was now called reijent^ Philip de Repenti by name, lost his
head on the 19th of March, 1358, on the market- place, for having
attempted, with a few bold comrades, " to place the regent beyond
the power and the reach of the people of Paris." Six days after-
wards, however, on the 25th of March, the dauphin succeeded in
escaping, and repaired first of all to Senlis, and then to Provins,
where he found the estates of Champagne eager to welcome him.
Marcel at once sent to Provins two deputies with instructions to
bind over the three orders of Champagne " to be at one with them
of Paris, and not to be astounded at what had been done." Before
answering, the members of the estates withdi-ew into a garden to
parley together and sent to pray the regent to come and meet
them, "^ly lord," said the count De Braine to him in the name
of the nobility, *' did you ever suffer any harm or villainy at
the hands of De Confliuis, marshal of Champagne, for which he
deserved to be put to death as he hath been by them of Paris ?"
The prince replied that he firmly held and believed that the said
marshal and Robert de Clermont had well and loyally served and
advised him. '' My lord," replied the count De Braine, " we
Champagnese who are liei'c do thank you for that wliich you have
just said, and do desire you to do full justice on those who have
put our friend to death without cause;" and they bound them-
selves to sup])oi-t him with their persons and their property for the
chastisement of them who had been the authors of the outrage.
The dauphin, witli full trust in this manifestation and this
promise, convoked at Conipiegne, for the -ith of May, 1353, no
longer the estates of Chanii)agne only, but the states-general in
their entirety, who, on separating at the close of their last session,
Chap. XXI.] STATES-GENERAL OP FOURTEENTH CENTURY- 159
_ bad adjourned to the let of May following. The story of this fieBh
P^ession and of the events determined by it is here reproduced
text oally, just as it has come down to us from the last con tinner of
the Ghrofiicle of WiUiam of Nangtsj the most fayourable amongst
^^11 the chroniclers of the time to Stephen Marcel and the popular
party in Taris, "All the deputies and especially the friends of the
nobles slain did ^ith one heart and one mind counsel the lord
Charles^ duke of Normandy, to have the homicides stricken to
death ; and, if ho could not do so by reason of the number of their
defenders, they urged him to lay vigorous siege to the city of
Paris, either with an armed force or by forbidding the entry of
victuals thereinto, in such sort that it should understand and
perceive for a certainty that the death of the provost of tradesmen
and of his accomplices was intended. The said provost and those
who, after the regent's departure, had taken the government of the
city, clearly understood this intention, and they then implored the
Umveraity of studies at Paris to send deputies to the said lord-
regent, to humbly adjure him, in their name and in the name of the
whole city, to banish from his heart the wrath he bad conceived
against their feOow-citizens, offering and promising, moreover, a
writable reparation for the offence, provided that the lives of the
persons were spared. The University, concerned for the welfare
of tile city, sent several deputies of weight to treat about the
Clatter, They were received by the lord duke Charles and the
f^ilier lords with great kindness ; and they brought back word to
Paris that the demand made at Compiegne was that ten or a dozen
or even only five or six of the men suspected of the crime lately
^xjmmitted at Paris should be sent to Compiegne, where there was
deiigu of putting them to death, and, if this were done, the
k^regent would return to his old and intimate friendship with
Parisians. But Provost Marcel and his accomplices, who were
for themselves, did not believe that if they fell into the
> of the lord duke they could escape a terrible death, and they
bd no niind to run such a risk. Taking, therefore, a bold resolu-
lionj they desired to be treated as all the rest of the citizens, and,
to that end, sent several deputations to the lord-regent either to
Compifegne or to Meaux whither he sometimes removed ; but they
160
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXI,
got no gracious reply and rather words of bitterness atid threaten-
ing. Thereupon, being seized witli alarm for their city, int^ the
which the lord-regent and his noblo comrades were so ardently
desirous of re-entering, and being minded to put it out of reach
from the peril which threatened it» they began to fortify themselves
therein, to repair the walls, to deepen the ditches, to build new
ramparts on the eastern side, and to throw up barriers at all the
gates. * - . As they lacked a captain, they sent to Charles the Bad^
king of Navarre, who was at that time in Normandy, and whom
they knew to be freshly embroiled with the regent; and they
requested him to come to Paris with a strong body of men-at-arras,
and to be their captain there and their defender against all their
foes, save the lord John, king of France, a prisoner in England,
The king of Navarre, with all his men, wag received in state on the
15th of June by the Parisians, to the great indignation of the
piince-regent, his friends, and many others. The nobles thereupon
began to draw near to Paris and to ride about in the fields of the
neighbourhood, prepared to fight if there should be a sortie from
Paris to attack thorn. ... On a certain day the besiegers came
right up to the bridge of CharentoUj as if to draw out the king of
Navarre and the Parisians to battle. The king of Navarre issued
forth, armed, with his men, and drawing near to the besiegers had
long conversations with them without fighting, and afterwards went
back into Paris. At sight hereof the Parisians suspected that this
king, who was himself a noble, was conspiring with the besiegers,
and was preparing to deal some secret blow to the detriment of
Paris ; so they conceived mistrust of him and his, and stripped lUm
of his office of captain. He went foi-th sore vexed from Paris, he
and his; and the Enghsh especially, whom he had brought with
him, insulted certain Parisians, whence it happened that before
they were out of the city several of them were massacred by the
folks of Paris, who afterwards confined themselves within their
walls, carefully guarding the gates by day and, by night, keeping
up strong patrols on the ramparts,"
Whilst Marcel inside Paris, where he reigned supreme, was a prey,
on his own account and that of his besieged city, to these anxieties
and perils, an event occurred outside which seemed to open to him
Chap, XXI,] STATES-GENERAL OF FOUBTEENTH CENTURY. 161
a prospect of powerful aid, perhaps of decisive victory. Throughout
several provinces the peasants, whose condition, sad and hard as it
already was under the feudal system, had been still further aggra*
Tated by the outrages and irregularities of war, not finding any
protection in their lords^ and often being even oppressed by them
as if they had been foes, had recourse to insurrection in order to
eBCi^pe from the evils which came down upon them every day and
from every quarter. They bore and would bear any thing, it w^as
said J and they got the name of Jacques Bonhomme (Jack GoodfeUow);
but this taunt they belied in a terrible manner. We wiU quote
from the last continuer of William of Nangis, the least declamatory
and the least confused of all the chroniclers of that period : ** In
this same year 1358," says be, "in the summer [the first rising
took place on the 28th of May], the peasants in the neighbourhood
of St* Loup de Cerent and Clermont in the diocese of Beauvais took
up arms against the nobles of France, They assembled in great
niunberSj set at their head a certain peasant named William Karle
[or Cale, or Callet], of more intelHgence than the rest, and march-
ing hy companies under their own flag roamed over the country,
ilajring and massacring all the nobles they met, even their own
lords, Kot content mth that, they demolished the houses and
castles of the nobles : and, what is still more deplorable, they
villainoysly put to death the noble dames and little children who
fell into their hands; and afterwards they strutted about, they and
tbir wives, bedizened with the garments they had stripped from
their victims. The number of men who had thus risen amounted
to five thousand, and the rising extended to the outskirts of Paris.
They had begun it from sheer necessity and love of justice, for
tJieir lords oppressed instead of defending them ; but before long
ihaj proceeded to the most hateful and criminal deeds* They
and destroyed from top to bottom the strong castle of Erme-
nonville, where they put to death a multitude of men and dames of
Boble family who had taken refuge there. For some time the
nobles no longer went about as before ; none of them durst set a
foot outside the fortified places." Jacquery had taken the form of
a fit of demagogic fury, and the Jack^ [or Goodfellaws'] swarming
out of their hovels were the terror of the castles.
VOL jf. K
\m
HISTORY OP FRANCE.
[Chap. XXI.
Had Marcel provoked tbis bloody insurrection ? There is strong
presumption against him; many of liis contemporaries say lie had ;
and thu daupliin himself ^^Tote on the 30th of Augustj 1359, to the
count of Savoy that one of the most heinous acts of Marcel and his
partisans was " exciting the folks of the open country in France,
of Beauvait^is and Champagne, and other districts, against the
nobles of the said kingdom ; whence so many evils have proceeded
as no man should or could conceive.*^ It is quite ceriainj however,
tbat, the insurrection having once broken out. Marcel hastened to
profit by it and encouraged and even supported it at several points.
Amongst other things he sent from Paris a body of thi^e© hundrtxl
men to the assistance of the peasants who were besieging the castle
of Ermenonville. It is the due penalty paid by reformers who allow
themselves to drift into revolution that they become before long
accomplices in mischief or crime which their original design and
their own personal interest made it incumbent on them to prevent
or repress.
The reaction against Jot yiier^/ was speedy and shockingly bloody.
The nobles, the dauphin, and the king of Navarre, a prince and a
noble at the same time that ho was a scoundrel, matle common cause
against the (iootlfdlows^ who were the more disorderly in proportion
as they had become more numerous and believed themselves more
invincible- The ascendancy of the masters over the rebels was
soon too strong for resistance- At Meaux, of wliich the Goodfellows
had obtained posst*asion, they were surprised and massacred to the
number, it is said, of seven thousand, with the town burning alx>ut
their ears. In Beauvaisis, the king of Navarre, after having made
a show of tivating with tlieii' cliieftain, AVilliam Karle or Calleti
got possession of him, and had him beheaded, wearing a trivet of
red-hot iron, says one of the chroniclers, by way of crown* He
then moved upon a camp of GUMKljV'lhwsuBsemhlod near Hon tdi*lier,
slew three thousand of them and dispersed the remainder. These
figures are probably very mucli exaggeratt*d, as nearly always
happens in such accounts; but the continuer of Wilham of Kangis,
so justly severe on the outrages and bai^barities of the insurgeiit
}X5asants, is not loss so on those of their conquerors, " The nobles
of France," he says, "committed at that time such ravages in the
CflAF. XXI.] STATES-GENERAL OF FOUETEENTH CENTURY, 1G3
district of Meaux tlmt there was no need for the English to come
and daatroy our country; those mortal enemies of the kingdom
could not have done what was done by the nobles at home/'
Marcel from that moment perceived that his cause was lost, and
no longer dreamed of any thing but saving himself and his, at any
price ; ** for he thought," says Froissart, ** that it paid better to
slay than to be slain/* Although he had more than once ex-
perienced the disloyalty of the king of Navarre, he entered into
&^sh negotiation with him> hoping to use him as an intermediary
between himself and tlie dauphin in order to obtain either an ac-
ceptable peace or guai^antees for his own security in case of extreme
danger. The king of Navarre lent a ready ear to these overtures ;
he bad no scruple about negotiating with this or that individual >
I this or that party, flattering himself that he would make one or the
other useful for his own purposes. Marcel had no difficulty in
discovering that the real design of the king of Navarre was to set
igide the house of Valois and the Plantagencts together, and to
I become king of France himself, as a descendant, in his own person,
I of St. Louis, though one degree more remote. An understanding
was renewed between the two, such as it is possible to have
'between two personal interests fandamentally different but capable
of being for the moment mutually helpfuL Marcel, under pretext
of defence against the besiegers, admitted into Paris a pretty large
number of EngUsh in the pay of the king of Navarre, Before
long quarrels arose between the Parisians and these unpopular
Iforeigners; on the 21st of July, 1358, during one of these quarrels,
Itwenty-four Enghsh were massacred by the people ; and four
adred others, it is said, were in danger of undergoing the same
when Marcel came up and succeeded in saving their lives by
Itiaving them imprisoned in the Louvre. The quarrel grew hotter
[iind i^pread farther. The pt^oplo of Paris went and attacked other
mercenaries of the king of Navarre, chiefly Englisli, who were
occupying St* Denis and St* Cloud. The Parisians were beaten ;
and the king of NavaiTc withdrew to St. Denis. On the 27th of
July Marcel boldly resolved to set at liberty and send over to him
the four hundred English imprisoned in the Louvre, He had them
let oat, accordingly, and himself escorted them as far as the gate
M 2
104
mSTORY OF FRANCE.
[CnAi\ XXL
St. Honord, in the midet of a throng that made no moyemtmt
for all its irritation. Some of Marcel's satellites who forniiHl ilm
escort cried out as they went, *'Has any body aught to say ap' *»ri<i
the setting of these prisoners at liberty?" The Parisians rtv
bered their late reverse, and not a voice was raised. ** Strom
moved as the people of Paris were in their hearts against
provost of tradesmen/' says a contemporary chronicle, '* there
not a man who durst commence a riot."
MarcePs position became day by day more criticah The dauplifl
encamped with his army around PariSj was keeping up secret
very active communications with it ; and a party^ numerous and
already growing in popularity, was being formed there in Im^
favour. Men of note, who were lately Marcers comrades,
now pronouncing against him; and John Maillart, one of the fd
clioBen captains of the municipal forces, was the most vigils
Marcel, at his wit^s end, made an offer to the king of Navarre
dehver Paris up to him on the night between the 31st of July
the 1st of August, All was ready for carrying out this de8i|
During the day of the Slst of July Marcel would have changed
keepers of the St. Denis gate, but Maillai't opposed liim, nishf?tl
the Hotel de Ville, seized the banner of France, jumped on hoi
back and rode through the city shouting, " Mount joy St. Doi
for the king and the duke P* This was the rallying-cry of
dauphin's partisans. The day ended with a great riot amonj
the people. Towards eleven o'clock at night Marcel, followed
his people armed from head to foot, made his way to the St, Anthc
gate, holding in his hands, it is said, the keys of the city*
he was there, waiting for the arrival of the king of Navarre'a
Maillart came up ** with torches and lanterns and a numat
assemblage* He went straight to the provost and said to hi|
'Stephen, Stephen, what do you here at this hour?' * Johni
business have you t^ meddle ? I am here to take the guard of I
city of which I have the government.' ' By God,' rejoined
lart, * that wOl not do ; you are not here at this hour for any ^
and I'll prove it to you,' said he, addressing his comrmles, * He©,
holds in his hands the keys of the gat^s, to betray the city.' ' Yi
lie, John,' said Marcel. ' By God, you traitor, 'tis you who Jie>*
Chap. XXL] STATEIS-GENEIUL OP FOUKTEENTH CENTURY. 107
replied Maillart: * death I death I to all on Ins side!'*' And ho raised
lits battle-axe against Marcel Philippe Giffard, one of the pro-
rostra friends, tlirew himself before Marcel and covered him for a
moment with his own body; but the struggle had begun in earnest.
Maillart plied his battle-axe upon Marcel, who fell pierced with
many wounds. Six of his comrades sliared the same fate ; and
Robert Lecocq, bishop nf Laon, saved himself by patting on a
Cordelier's habit. Maillart*s company divided themselves into
several bands^ and spread themselves all over the city, carrying the
news every where, and despatching or arresting the partisans of
Msurel, The next morning, the 1st of August, 1358, " John
Maillart brought together in the market-place the greater part of
the community of Paris, explained for what reason he had slain
the provost of tradesmen and in what offence he had detected him,
and pointed out quietly and discreetly how that on this very night
the city of Paris must have been overrun and destroyed if God of
His grace had not applied a remedy^ When the people who were
present heard these news they were much astounded at the peril
in which they had been, and the greater part thanked God with
folded hands for the grace He had done them/* The corpse of
Stephen Marcel was stripped and exposed quite naked to the
public gaxe, in front of St. Catherine du Val des Ecoliers, on the
very spot where, by his orders, the corpses of the two marshals,
Boberfc do Clermont and John de Cunflans, had been exposed five
months befoi'e. He was afterwards cast into the river in the
presence of a great concourse, " Then were sentenced to death by
the council of prud*hommes of Paris, and executed by divers forms
of deadly torture several who had been of the sect of the provost,"
the regent having declared that he would not re-enter Paris until
■iilGse traitors had ceased to live.
W Thus perished after scarcely three years' political life, and by the
^uands of his former fiiends, a man of rare capacity and energy, who
^r^ the outst^t had formed none but patriotic designs, and had no
I doubt promised himself a better fate. When, in December, 1355,
I at the summons of a deplorably incapable and feeble king. Marcel,
I a fiitnple burgher of Paris and quite a new man, entered the
" membly of the states-general of France, itself quite a new power.
168
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
tCHAl-, XXI.
he was justly struck with the Tices and abuses of the kingly
government, with the evils and the dangers being entailed thereby
upon France, and with the necessity for applying some remedy.
But, notwithstanding this perfectly lionest and sound conviction,
he fell into a capital error ; he tried to abolish, for a time at least,
the government he desired to reform, and to substitute for the
kingship and its agents the people and their elect. For more than
three centuries the kingship had been the form of power which
had naturally assumed shape and development in France, whilst
seconding the natural labour attending the formation and develop-
ment of the French nation ; but this labour had as yet advanced
but a httle way, and the nascent nation was not in a condition to
take up position at the head of its government. Stephen Marcel
attempted by means of the states-general of the fourteenth century
to bring to pass what we in the nineteenth, and after all the
advances of the French nation, have not yet succeeded in getting
accomplished, to wit, the government of the country by the
country itself. Marcel, going from excess to excess and from
reverse to reverse in the pursuit of his impracticable enterprise,
found himself before long engaged in a fierce struggle with the
feudal aris^tocracy, still so powerful at that time, as well as with
the kingship. Being reduced to depend entirely during this
struggle upon such strength as could be supphed by a municipal
democracy incoherent, inexperienced, and full of divisions in its
own ranks, and by a mad insurrection in the country districts, he
rapidly fell into the selfish and criminal condition of the man whose
special concern is his own personal safety. This he sought to
secure by an unworthy alliance with the most scoundrelly amongst
his ambitious contemporaries, and he would have given up his own
city as well as France to the king of Navarre and the English had
not another burgher of Paris, John Maillart, stopped him, and put
him to death at the very moment when the patriot of the states*
general of 1355 was about to become a traitor to his coimtry.
Hardly thirteen years before, when Stephen Mareel was already a
full-grown man, the great Flemish burgher, James van Artevelde,
had, in the cause of his country's liberties, attempted a similar
enterprise and, after a series of great deeds at the outset and
Chap. XXL] STATES-GENERAL OF FOURTEENTH CENTURY
tlien of faults also similar to those of Marcel, had fallen into
the game abyas, and bad perished by tlie hand of his fellow-citizens,
at the Yery moment when he was labouring to put Flanders, his
iiative country, into the hands of a foreign master, the prince of
Wales, son of Edward III,, king of England. Of all political snares
the democratic is the most tempting, but it is also the most de-
moraliring and the most deceptive when, instead of consulting
tlie interests of the democracy by securing public liberties, a man
aspires to put it in direct possession of the supreme power and with
its sole support to take upon himself the direction of the helm.
One fiingle result of importance was won for France by the
states-general of the fourteenth century, namely, the principle of the
nation's right to intervene in their own affairs, and to set their
government straight when it liad gone wrong or was incapable
of performing that duty itself. Up to tlmt time, in the thir-
t^nth century and at the opening of the fourteenth, the states-
general had been hardly any thing more than a temporary expedient
employed by the kingship itself to solve gome special question or to
escape from some grave embarrassment. Starting from King John,
the states-general became one of the principles of national right ; a
principle which did not disappear even when it remained without
application and the prestige of which survived even its reverses.
Faith and hope fill a prominent place in the lives of peoples as well
as of individuals ; having sprung into real existence in 1355, the
ttaies-general of France found themselves alive again in 1789 ; and
we may hope that, after so long a trial, their rebuffs and their
toiitakes will not be more fatal to them in our day*
^ -.
/^:
r/i
'^1
m^L%
^nn«f^ V
A-JtTC
CHAPTER XXII.
THE riins^DRED years^ war.-citaeles \\
[0 soon as Marcel and tliree of his chief confidants had
been put to death at the St. Anthony gate, at tbo
very moment when they were about to open it to the
English, John Malllart had information sent to the regent, at that
time at Charenton, mth an urgent entreaty that ho wouki come
back to Pains without delay, " The news, at once spread abroad
through the city, was received with noisy joy there, and the red
caps which had been worn so proudly the night before, were every
where taken off and hidden. The next morning a proclamation
ordered that whosoever knew any of the faction of Marcel shouhl
arrest them and take them to the Chatelet, but without laying
hands on their goods and without maltreating their wives or chiU
dren. Several were taken, put to the question, brought out into
the public squarcj and beheaded by virtue of a decree. They
were tho men who but lately had the government of the city and
deciiled all matters. Some were burgesses of renowni eloquent
and learned, and one of them, on arriving at the square, cried out,
IfcfAF. XXII.] THE HUNDRED YEARS^ WAR.
171
* Woe is me I Would to heaven, 0 king of Navarre^ that I had
never seen thee or heard thee !' " On the 2nd of August, 1358, in
the eveniog, the daiipbin, Charles, re-entered Paris, and was
accompaQied by John Maillart, who "was mightily in his grace and
love/' On his way a man cried out, " By God, sir, if I had been
Estened to, you woukl never have entered in here ; but> after all,
you will get but little by it/' The count of Tanearville, who was
in the prince's train, drew \m sword, and spuiTed his horse upon
" tliis rascal;" but the dauphin restrained him, and contented him-
elf with saying smilingly to the man, '* You will not be hstened to,
fiiir sir/' Charles had the spirit of coolness and discretion ; and
•*be thought," says his contemporary Christine de Pisan, "that if
this fellow had been slain, the city which had been so rebellious
nught pi*obably have been excited thereby," Charles, on being
resettled in Pans, sliowed neither clemency nor cruelty. He let
the reaction against Stephen Marcel run its course, and turned
it to account without further exciting it or prolonging it beyond
measure- The property of some of the condemned was confiscated;
some attempts at a conspiracy for the purpose of avenging the
provost of tradesmen were repressed with severity] and John
Maillart and his family were loaded with gifts and favours. On
be€Oniing king, Charles determined himself to hold his son at the
baptismal font; but Robert Lecocq, bishop of Laon, the most
intiinate of MarceVs accomplices, returned quietly to his diocese;
ti^o of Marcel's brothers, William and John, owing their protec-
ti(>n, it is said, to certain youthful reminiscences on the prince's
p*'ut, were exempted from all prosecution ; Marcers widow
even recovered a portion of his property; and as early as the
lOtli of August, 1358, Charles published an amnesty, from which
he excepted only " those who had been in the secret council
of the provost of tradesmen in respect of the great treason;"
find on the same day another amnesty quashed all proceed-
ings for deeds done during the Jarquenj^ '* whether by nobles
or igaoblcs/' Charles knew that in acts of rigour or of grace
iiTJparliality conduces to the strength and the reputation of
The death of Stephen Marcel and the ruin of his party were
172
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CuAP. XSIL
fatal to the plots and ambitious hopes of the king of Navarre, At
the first moment he hastenotl to renew his alliance with the king
of England and to recommence war in Normandy, Picardy, and
Champagne against the regent of France. But several of his local
expeditions were unsuccessful ; the temperate and patient policy of
the regent rallied round him the populations aweary of war and
anarchy ; negotiations were opened between the two princes ; and
their agents were laboriously discussing conditions of peace when
Charles of Navarre suddenly interfered in person, saying, ** I would
fain talk over matters with the lord duke regent, my brother*"
We know that his wife was Joan of France, the dauphin's sister,
" Hereat there was great joy," says the chronicler, " amongst their
councillors. The two princes met, and the king of Navarre with
modesty and gentleness addressed the regent in these terms, ' My
lord duke and brother, know that I do hold you to be my proper
and especial lord ; though I have for a long while made war
against you and against France, our country, I wish not to con-
tinue or to foment it ; I wish henceforth to be a good Frenchman,
your faithful friend and close ally, your defender against the
English and whoever it may be: I pray you to pardon me
thoroughly, me and mine, for all that I have done to you up to
this present. I wish for neither the lands nor the towns which
are offered to me or promised to me ; if I order myself well and
you find me faithful in all matters, you shaU give me all that my
deserts shall seem to you to justify/ At these words the regent
arose and thanked the king with much sweetness ; they, one and
the other, profi'ered and accepted wine and spices ; and all present
rejoiced greatly, rendering thanks to God, who doth blow where
He listeth and doth accomplish in a moment that which men with
their own sole intelUgence have nor wit nor power to do in a long
while. The town of Melun was restored to the lord dnke ; the
navigation of tlie river once more became free up stream and
down ; great was the satisfaction in Paris and throughout the
whole coimtry; and, peace being thus made, the two princes
returned both of them home."
The king of Navarre knew how to give an appearance of free
will and sincerity to changes of posture and behaviour which
Chap.xxil] the hundred TEAHS' wab.
seemed to be pressed upon liim by necessity ; and we may suppose
that the dauphinj all the while that he was interchanging graceful
acts, was too well acquainted by this time with the other to become
his dupe, but, by their apparent reconciliation, they put an end,
for a few brief moments, between themselves to a position which
was burthensome to both.
Whilst these events, from the battle of Poitiers to the death of
Stephen Marcel (fram the 19th of September, 1356, to the 1st of
August, 1358), were going on in France, King John was living as
a prisoner in the hands of the English, first at Bordeaux and after-
wards in London, and was much more concerned about the recep-
tion he met with and the galas he was present at than about the
affairs of his kingdom. When, after his defeat, he was conducted
to Bordeaux by the prince of Wales, who was governor of English
Aqnitaine, he became the object of the most courteous attentions
not only on the part of his princely conqueror but of all Gascon
iociety, " dames and damsels, old and young, and their fair
attendants, who took pleasure in consoling him by providing him
with diversion/* Thus he passed the winter of 1356; and in the
spring the prince of Wales received from his father, King Edward
IIL, the instructions and the vessels he had requested for the
conveyance of his prisoner to England. In the month of May,
1357j" he summoned/* says Froissart, '*all the highest barons of
Gaficony, and told them that he had made up his mind to go to
Eiigland, whither he would take some of them, leading the rest in
the country of Bordelais and Gascony to keep the land and the
frontiers against the French. When the Gascons heard that the
pnnce of Wales would carry away out of their power the king of
^i^ance whom they had helped to take, they were by no means of
^cord therewith, and said to the prince, ' Dear sir» we owe you, in
nil that is in our power, all honour, obedience, and loyal service ;
but it is not our desire that you should thus remove from us the
Itiiig of France, in respect of whom we have had gi'eat trouble to
put kirn in the place where he is ; for, thank God, he is in a good
strong city» and we are strong and men enough to keep him
against the French, if they by force would take hira from you/
Tb prince answered, ' Dear sirs, I grant it heartily ; but my lord
174
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CfiAP. XXII.
my fatlier wishes to hold and behold him ; and with the good
service that you have done my father and mo also we are well
pleased, and it shall be handsomely requited/ Nevertheless, these
words did not suffice to appease the Gascons, until a means thereto
was found by sir Beginald de Cobham and sir John Chandos ; for
they knew the Gaseous to bo very covetous. So they said to the
prince, 'Sirj offer them a sum of florins, and you will see them como
down to your demands.' The prince offered them sixty thousand
florins ; but they would have nothing to do with them. At last
there wag so much haggling that an agreement was made for a
hundred thousand francs which the prince was to hand over to the
barons of Gascony to share between them- He borrowed the
money; and tlie said sum was paid and handed over to them before
the prince started. When these matters were done, the prince put
tx) sea with a fine fleet, crammed with men-at-arms and archers, and
put the king of France in a vessel quite apart that he might be
more at his ease."
"They were at sea eleven days and eleven nights,*' continues
Froissart, "and on the twelfth they arrived at Sandwich harbour,
where they landed, and halted two days to refresh themselves and
their horses. On the tliird day they set out and came to St.
Thomas of Canterbury,"
"^Vlien the news reached the king and queen of England that the
prince their son had arrived and had brought with him the king of
Franco, they were greatly rejoiced thereat and gave orders to the
burgesses of London to get themselves ready in as splendid fashion
as was beseeming to receive the king of France. They of the city
of London obeyed the king's commandment and arrayed tliem-
selves by companies most richly, all the trades in cloth of different
kinds.'* According to the poet herald-at-arms of John Chandos,
King Edward II L went in person vdth his barons and more tlian
twenty counts to meet King John, who entered London "niount*^
on a tall white steed right well harnessed and ac^coutred at all
points, and the [>rince of Wales, on a httle black hackney, at his
side,*' King Jolm was first of all lodged in London at the
Savoy hotel and shortly afterwards removed with all his people to
Windsor: ** there," says Froissart, 'Ho hawkj huut^ dispoi't him-
Chap. XXII.] THE HUNDRED YEAKS'
self and take his pastimo according to liis pleasure, and sir Philip,
his S0D> also ; and all the rest of the other lords, counts, and
barons, remained in London, but they went to see the king when
it pleased theiQi and they were put upon their honour only."
Chandos' poet adds, ''Many a dame and many a damsel, right
amiable, gay and lovely, came to dance there, to sing and to cause
great galas and jousts^ as in the days of King jlrthur/'
In the midst of his pleasures in England King John sometimes
also occupied himi?elf at Windsor with his business in France, but
with no more wisdom or success than had been his wont during his
actual reign. Towards the end of April, 1359, the dauplun-regent
received at Paris the text of a treaty which the king his father had
concluded in London with the king of England, " The cession of
the western half of France, from Calais to BayonnG,and the imme-
diate payment of four million golden crowns," such was, according
to the terms of this treaty, the price of King John's ransom, says
M, Picot in his work concerning the IJisto7^y of the 8tates*General
which was crowned in 18G1) by the Academie des Sciences Morales et
Vdiliques : and the regent resolved to leave to the judgment of
France the acceptance or refusal of such exorbitant demands. Ho
iiuinmoned a meetings to be held at Paris on the 19th of May, of
ckjThmen, nobles, and deputies from the good towns; but *' there
inine but few deputies, as well because full notice had not by that
time been given of the said summons as because the roads were
lilocked by tlio English and the Navarrese, who occupied fortresses
in all parts whereby it was possible to get to Paris/* The assem*
bly had to be postponed from day to day, At last, on the 25th of
May, the regent repaired to the palace. He halted on the marble
staircase ; around him were ranged the three estates ; and a
numerous multitude filled the courtyard- In presence of all the
peojile, WiUiam de Dor mans, king*s advocate in parliament, read
tile treaty of peace which was to divide the kingdom into two
part*; so as to hand over one to tlie foes of France- The reading
of 11^ roused the indignation of the people. The estates repUed that
tlio treaty was not "tolerable or feasible'* and in their patriotic
enthusiasm "decreed to make fair war on the English," But it
was not enough to spare the kingdom the shame of such a treaty ;
176
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap- XXU.
it was necessary to give the regent the means of concluding a
better. On the 2nd of June, the nobles announced to the dauphin
that they would serve for a month at their own expense and that
they would pay besides such imposts as should be decreed by the
good towns. The churchmen also offered to pay them- The city of
Paris undertook to maintain *' six hundred swords, three hundred
archers, and a thousand brigands-*^ The good towns offered twelve
thousand men ; but they could not keep theii' promise, the country
being utterly ruined.
When King John heard at Windsor that the treaty whereby he
had hoped to be set at liberty had been rejected at Paris, he showed
his displeasure by a single outburst of personal animosity, say-
ing, " Ah I Charles, fair son, you were counselled by the king of
Navarre, who deceives you and would deceive sixty such as you !"
Edward IIL, on his side, at onco took measures for recommencing
the war ; but, before engaging in it, he had King John removed
from Windsor to Hertford Castle, and thence to Somerton, where
he seta strong guard, Ha\nng thus made certain that his prisoner
would not escape from him, he put to sea and, on the 28th of
October, 1359, lauded at Calais with a numerous and well-supplied
army. Then, rapidly traversing northern France, he did not halt
till he arrived before Rheims, which he was in hopes of 8ui"prising,
and where, it is said, he purposed to have himself, without delay,
crowned king of France. But he found the place so well provided
and the population so determined to make a good defence, that ho
raised the siege and moved on Chalons, where the same disappoint-
ment awaited him- Passing fi^om Champagne to Burgundy be
then commenced the same course of scouring and ravaging; but the
Burgundians entered into negotiations with him, and by a treaty
concluded on the 10th of March, 1360, and signed by Joan of
Auvergne, queen of France, second wife of King John and guardian
of the young duke of Burgundy, Philip de Rouvre, they obtained at the
csost of two hundred thousand golden iiheep {moutoim) an agreement
that for three years Edward and his army " would not go scouring
and burning'* in Burgundy as they were doing in the other parta
of France. Such was the powerlessness or rather absence of all
national government, that a province made a treaty aU alone and on
Chap. XXn.] TKE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
177
I
k
its own account without causing the regent to show any surprise
or to dream of making any complaint p
Ab a make- weight, at this same time, another province, Picardy,
aided by many Normans and Flemings its neighbours, " nobleSi
burgesses, and common-folk," was sending to sea an expedition
which was going to try^ with God's help, to dehver King John
from his prison in England and bring him back in triumph to hia
kingdom. " Thus," says the chronicler, '* they who, God^forsaken
or through their own faults, could not defend themselves on the
soil of tlieir fathers, were going abroad to seek their fortune and
their renown, to return home covered with honour and boasting of
divine succour I The Pioard expedition lauded in England on the
14th of March, 1360; it did not deliver King John, but it took
and gave over to flames and pillage for two days the town of
Winchelaeaj after which it put to sea again and returned to its
hearths." {The Gontinuer of William of Natyjis^ t. ii. p. 298.)
Edward III., weary of thus roaming with his army over France
without obtaining any decisive result, and without even managing
to get into his hands any one " of the good towns which he had
promised himself," says Froissart, " that he would tan and hide in
Hueh sort that they would be glad to come to some accord with
liim,** resolved to direct his efforts against the capital of the
kingdom, where the dauphin kept himself close. On the 7th of
April, 1360, he arrived hard by Montrouge, and his troops spread
theniselves over the outskirts of Paris in the form of an investing
or Ix^sieging force. But he had to do with a city protected by
good ramparts and well supplied with pro\nsions, and with a prince
cool, patient, determined, free from any illusion as to his danger or
his strength, and resolved not to risk any of those great battles of
which he had experienced the sad issue • Foreseeing the advance
of the English he had burnt the villages in the neighbourhood of
Paris, whei'o they might have fixed tlieir quarters ; ho did the same
with the suburbs of St. Germain, St. Marcel, and Notre- Dame-des-
Cbamps; he turned a deaf ear to all King Edward's warlike
chaUenges ; and some attempts at an assault on the part of the
English knights and some sorties on the part of the French
kBight^, impatient of their inactivity, came to nothing. At the end
V*1L, II. N
178
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap, XXIL
of a week Edward, whose "army no longer found augtt to
withdrew from Paris by the Chart res road, declaring his pui
of entering " the good country of Beauce, where he would recruit
himself all the summer," and whence he would return after Tintage
to resuine the siege of Paris whilst hig lieutenants would ravage
all the neighbouring provinces. When he was approaching Chart res
*' there burst upon his army,'* says Froisaart, " a tempest, a storm,
an echpse, a wind, a hail, an upheaval so mighty, so wondrous, so
horrible, that it seemed as if the heaven were all a-tumble and the
earth were opening to swallow up every thing ; the stones fell so
thick and so big that they slew men and horses, and there
none so bold but that they were all dismayed. There were at tl
time in the army certain wise men who said that it was a scourg^
of God sent as a warning, and that God was showing by signs that
He would that peace should be made," Edward had by him
certain discreet friends who added their admonitions to those of
the tempest. His cousin, the duke of Lancaster, said to him,
*' My lord, this war that you are waging in the kingdom of France
is right wondrous and too costly for you ; your men gain by it and
you lose your time over it to no purpose ; you will spend your life on
it, and it is very doubtful whether you will attain your desire; tal
the offers made to you now whilst you can come out with honot
for, my lord, we may lose more in one day than we have won
twenty years/* The regent of France, on his side, indirectly
overtures for peace ; the abbot of Cluny and the general of th "
Dominicans, legates of Pope Innocent VL, warmly seconded them;
and negotiations were opened at the hamlet of Br<^'tiguy, close to
Chartres* *' The king of England was a hard nut to crack," says
Froissart; he yielded a little, however, and on the 8th of Alay,
1360, was concluded the treaty of Bretigny, a peace disastrous
indeed, but become necessary- Aquitaine ceased to be a French
fief, and was exalted, in the king of England's interest, to an
independent sovereignty, together with the provinces attached to
Puitou, Saintonge, Aunis, Agi^nois, Perigord, Limousin, Quercy,
Bigorre, Angoumois, and Rouergue. The king of England, on his
side, gave up completely to the king of France Normandy, Alaine,
and the portion of Touraine and Aujou situated to the north of
CffAr, XXII,] THE UUNDRED YEARS' WAE. 179
tlie Loire, He engaged, further, to solemnly renounce all preten-
aons to the crown of France so soon as King John had renounced
all rights of suzerainty over Aquitaine. King John's ransom was
fixed at three millions of golden crowns payable in six years, and
John Galeas Visconti, duke of Milan, paid the first instalment of it
(600,000 florins) as the price of his marriage with Isabel of France^
daughter of King John. Hard as these conditions were, the peace
was joyfiiUy welcomed in Paris and throughout northern Prance;
the balls of the country churches as well as of Notre-Dame in
Paris, songs and dances amongst the people, and liberty of loco-
motion and of residence secured to the English in all places, ^* so
that none should disquiet them or insult them," bore witness to
the general satisfaction • But some of the provinces ceded to the
king of England had great difficulty in resigning themselves to it,
**In Poitou and in all the district of Saintonge," says Froissart,
"great was the displeasure of barons, knights^ and good towns
when they had to be Englisli. The town of La Roclielle was espe-
cially unwilling to agree thereto ; it is wonderful what sweet and
piteous words they wrote a^in and again to the king of France,
begging him for God's sake to bo pleased not to separata them
from his own domains or place them in foreign hands, and saying
tiat they would rather be clipt every year of half their revenue
than pass into the hands of the English- And when they saw that
neither excuses Bor remonstrances nor prayers were of any avail
they obeyed ; but the men of most mark in the town said, * We
i?ill recognize the English with the lips, but the heart shall beat to
it never/ " Thus began to grow in substance and spirit, in the
midst of war and out of disaster itself [per damna^ per emdm ah
Duxii opCM anlmmnque ferro], that national patriotism which
had hitherto been such a stranger to feudal France, and which
was io necessary for her progress towards unity^ — the sole condi-
j ticm for herj of strength, security, and grandeur, in the state
characteristic of the European world since the settlement of the
Franks in Gaul,
Having concluded the treaty of Brdtigny, the king of England
petemed on the 18th of May, 1360, to London ; and, on the 8th of
July following, King John, having been set at liberty, was brought
N 2
180
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CiUP, XXll.
over by the princo ofWales toCalaiSj where Edward IILcame to meet
him. The two kings treated one another there with great courtesy.
" The king of England/' says Froissart, " gave the king of France
at Calais Castle a magnificent supper, at which his own children
and the duke of Lancaster and the greatest barons of England
waited at table, bai'eheaded." Meanwhile the prince*regent of
France was arriving at Amiens, and there receiving from his
brothor4n4awj Galeas Visconti, duke of Milan, the sura necessarj
to pay the first instalment of his royal fathe/s ransom. Payment
having been made, the two kings solemnly ratified at Calais the
treaty of Br^tigny, Two sons of King John, the duke of Anjou
and the duke of Berry, with several other personages of consider-
ation, princes of the blood, barons, and burgesses of the principal
good towns, were given as hostages to the king of England for the
due execution of the treaty ; and Edward III, negotiated between
the king of France and Cliarles the Bad, king of Navarre, a
reconciliation precarious as ever. The work of pacification having
been thus accomplished, King John departed on foot for Boulogne,
where he was awaited by the dauphin his son, and where the prince
of Wales and his two brothers, likewise on foot, came and joined
him. All these princes passed two days together at Boulogne in
religious ceremonies and joyous galas ; after which the prince of
Wales returned to Calais and King John set out for Paris, which
he once more entered, December 13th, 1360. " He was welcomed
thei*ei" says Froissart, "by all manner of folk, for lie had been
much desired there. Rich presents were made him ; tlie prelates
and barons of his kingdom came to visit him ; they feast-ed him
and rejoiced with him as it was seemly to do ; and the king
received them sweetly and handsomely, for well he knew how/'
And that was all King John did know* When he was once more
seated on his throne, the counsels of his eldest son, the late regent,
mduoed him to take some wise and wholesome administmtive mea-
sures. AH adulteration of the coinage was stopped ; the Jews
were recalled for twenty years, and some securities were accorded
to their industry and interests ; and an edict renewed the prohibi-
tion of private wars. But in his personal actions, in his bearing
and practices as a king, the levity, frivolity, thoughtlessness, and
inconsisfceiicy of King John were the same as ever. He went about
liis kingdom, especially in southern Francej seeking every wliere
occasions for holiday-making and disbursing rather than for
observing and reforming the state of the country. During the visit
h© paid in 1362 to the new pope, Urban V,, at Avignon j he tried
to get married to Queen Joan of Naples, the widow of two
husbands already, and, not being successful, he was on the point
of involving himself in a new crusade against the Turks. It was
OD his return fi'om this trip that he committed the gravest fault of
his reign, a fault which was destined to bring upon France and
the French kingship even more evils and disasters than those
which had made the treaty of Bretigny a necessity. In 1362, the
young duke of Burgundy, Philip de Rouvre, the last of the fii*st
house of the dukes of Burgundy, descendants of King Robert, died
rithout issue, lea\dng several pretenders to his rich inheritance-
King John was, according to the language of the genealogists, the
nearest of blood and at the same time the most powerful ; and he
immediately took possession of the duchy, went, on the 23rd of
December, 1362, to Dijon, swore on the altar of St. Bcnignus that
be would maintain the privileges of the city and of the province,
and, nine months after, on the 6th of September, 1363, disposed
of the duchy of Burgundy in the following terms : " Recalling
^iu to memory the excellent and praiseworthy services of our right
dearly beloved Philip, the fourth of our sons, who freely exposed
iiimself to death with us and, all wounded as he was, remained
tinwavering and fearless at the battle of Poitiers , * < * we do con-
cede to him and give him the duchy and peerage of Burgundy,
together with all that we may have therein of right, possession, and
proprietorslii]) .... for ^the which gift our said son hath done us
boinage as duke and premier peer of France/* Tluis was founded
that second house of the dukes of Burgundy which was destined to
play for more than a century so great and often so fatal a part in
le fortimes of France.
Whilst he was thus preparing a gloomy fiiture for his country and
lusHne, King John heard that his second son, the duke of Anjou, one
of the hostages left in the hands of the king of England as security
for the execution of the treaty of Bretigny, had broken his word of
182
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[CHAr,
honour and escaped fi'om England, in order to go and join his
at Guise Castle. Knightly faith was the virtue of King John ; and
it was, they say, on this occasion that he cried, as ho was severely
upbraiding his son^ that "if good faith were banished from the
world, it ought to find an asylum in the hearts of kings." He
announced to his councillors ^ assembled at Amiens, his intention
of going in person to Euglaud. An effort was made t^ dissuade
him ; and " several prelates and barons of France told him that he
was committing great folly when he was minded to again put him-
self in danger from the king of England. He answered that he
had found in his brother, the king of England, in the queen, and in
his nephews, their children, so much loyalty, honour, and courtesy,
that he had no doubt but that they would be courteous, loyal, and
amiable to him in any case- And so he was minded to go and
make the excuses of his son, the duke of Anjou, who had returned
to Franco/* According to the most intelligent of the chroniclers
of the time, the Continuer of William of Nangis, ** some persons
said that the king was minded to go to England in order to amuse
himself;" and they were probably right, for kingly and knightly
amusements were the favourite subject of King John*s meditations.
This time he found in England something else besides gaUs j lie
before long fell seriously ill, " which mightily disconcerted the
king and queen of Engand, for the wisest in the country judged
liim to be in great peril/' He died, in &ct, on the 8th of Aprils
1364, at the Savoy hotelj in London ; *' whereat the king of
England, the queen, their children, and many English barons were
much moved," says Froissart, " for the honour of the gieat love
which the king of France, since peace was made, had shown them/*
France was at last about to have in Charles Y, a practical and an
effective king. ^M
In spite of the discretion he had displayed during his four years
of regency (from 1350 to 1360) his reigned opened under the
saddest auspices. In 1363, one of those contagious diseases, aU at
that time called the plague, committed cruel ravages in Franco,
" None," says the contemporary chronicler, " could count the
number of the dead in Paris, young or old, rich or poor ; when
death entered a house, the little children died first, then th©
Knf
.Gfi^tn^^^
CHASLEB T<
Caif.XXIL] THE HUNDRED TEAES' WAli,
mouials, then the parents. In the smallest villages as well as in
Paris the mortality was such that at Argenteuil, for example,
where there were wont to bo numbered seven hundred hearths,
there remained no more than forty or fifty/* The ravages of the
armetl tMeves or bandits who scoured the country added to those
of the plague. Let it suffice to quote one instance, " In Beauce,
m the Orleans and Chartres side, some brigands and prowlers, with
hostile intent, dressed as pig-dealers or cow-drivers, came to the
little castle of Murs, close to Corbeil, and finding outside the gate
the master of the place, who was a knight, asked hira to get them
batik their pigSj which his menials, they said, had the night before
taken from them, which was false. The master gave them leave
to go in that they might discover their pigs and move them away.
As soon as they had crossed the drawbridge they seized upon the
master, threw off their false clothes, drew their weapons, and blew
a blast upon the bagpipe ; and forthwith appeared their comrades
from their hiding-places in the neiglibouring woods. They took
possession of the castle, its master and mistress, and all their folk;
and, settling themselves there, they scoured from thence the whole
eomitry, pillaging every where and filling the castle with the pro-
Tisions they carried offi At the rumour of this thievish capture,
many men-at-arms in the neighbourhood rushed up to expel the
thieves and retake from them the castle. Not succeeding in their
assault they fell back on Corbeil, and then themselves set to
rivagmg the country, taking away from the farm-houses provisions
and wine without paying a doit, and carrying them off to Corbeil
for their own use. They became before long as much feared and
kted as the brigands ; and all the inhabitants of the neighbouring
Tillages, leaving their homes and their labom", took refuge, with
their children and what they had been able to carry off, in Paris,
the only place where they could find a Uttle security." Thus, the
population was without any kind of regular force, any thing hke
effectual protection ; the temporary defenders of order themselves
went over, and with alacrity too, to the side of disorder when
they did not succeed in repressing it; and the men-at^rms set
t^eadilj about plundering, in their turn, the castles and country-
plaoess whence they had been charged to drive off the plunderers.
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chat. XXIL
Let US add a still more striking example of the absence of all
|Miblicly recognized power at this period, and of the necessity to
which the population was nearly every where reduced of defending
itself with its own hands in order to escape ever so little from the
evils of war and anarchy. It was a little while ago pointed out
why and how, after the death of Marcel and the downfall of his
faction, Charles the Bad, king of Navarre, suddenly determined
tipon making his peace with the regent of France. This peace was
very displeasing to the English , allies of the king of Navarre, and
they continued to carry on war, ravaging the country here and
there, at one time victorious and at another vanquished in a
multiplication of disconnected encoimters- ** I will relate," says
the Continuer ofWiUiam of Nangis, **one of those incidents just as
it occurred in mj neighbourhood, and as I have been truthfully
told about it. The struggle there was valiantly maintained by
peasants, Jacques Bonhomme (Jack Goodfellows)^ as they are called,
There is a place pretty well fortified in a little town named
Longueil, not far from Compitgne, in the diocese uf Beauvais and
near to the banks of the Oise< This place is close to the monastery
of St Corneille-de-Compifegne. The inhabitants perceived that
there would be danger if the enemy occupied this point; and,
after having obtained authority from the lord-regent of France
and the abbot of the monastery, they settled themselves ther©,
provided themselves with arms and provisions, and appointed a
captain taken from among themselves, promising the regent that
they would defend this place to the death. Many of the villagers
camo thither to place themselves in security, and they chose for
captain a tall, fine man, named William a- Larks {aux Almidtes)*
He had for servant and held as with bit and bridle a certain
peasant of lofty stature, marvellous boddy strength, and equal
boldness, who had joined to these advantages an extreme modesty :
he was called liitj Ferrk These folks settled themselves at this
point to the number of about two hundred men, all tillers of the
soil, and getting a poor livelihood by the labour of their hands.
The EngHsh, hearing it said that these folks were there and wero
determined to resist, held them in contempt, and went to them^
saying, * Drive we hence these peasants and take we possession of
Chat. XXII.] THE HDKDRED YEARS' WAR.
187
I
I
I
»
tbis point so well fortified and well supplied/ Thoj wont ttither
to the number of two hundred* The folks inside had no suspicion
thereof, and had left their gates open. The English entered
boldly into the place, whilst the peasants were in the inner courts
or at the windows, a-gape at seeing men so well armed making
their way in. The captain, William a-Larksj came down at once
with some of his people, and bravely began the fight; but he had
the worst of it, was surrounded by the English, and himself stricken
with a moilial wound. At sight hereof, those of his folk who
were stiU in the courts, with Bi^f FerrS at their head, said one to
another, * Let us go down and sell our lives dearly, else they will
slay us without mercy/ (fathering themselves discreetly together,
they went down by different gates and struck out with mighty
blows at the English, as if they had been beating out their com on
the threshing-floor ; their arms went up and down again, and every
blow dealt out a deadly wound- Big Ferre^ seeing his captain laid
low and almost dead already, uttered a bitter cry, and advancing
upon the English he topped them all, as he did his own fellows, by
a head and shoulders* Raising his axe, he dealt about him deadly
blows insomuch that in front of him the place was soon a void ; he
felled to the earth all those whom he could reach ; of one he broke
the head, of another he lopped off the arms ; he bore himself so
valiantly that in an hour he had with his own hand slain eighteen
of them, without counting the wounded; and at this sight his
comrades were filled with ardour* What more shall I say ? All
that band of English were forced to turn their backs and fly; some
jumped into the ditches full of wat«r ; others tried with tottering
steps to regain the gates. Big Ferre^ advancing to the spot where
the English had planted their flag, took it, killed the bearer, and
told one of his own fellows to go and hin^l it into a ditch where the
wall was not as yet finished, * I cannot,' said the other, ' there aro
still so many English yonder/ * Follow me with the flag,' said
Big Ferre^ and marching in front, and laying about him right and
left with his axe, he opened and cleared the way to the point
iadieated, so that his comrade could freely hurl the flag into the
ditch. After he had rested a moment, he returned to the fight, and
fell so roughly on the English who remained, that all those who
188
HISTORY OF FRAI^CE.
[Chap. XXU-
could fly Imstened to profit thereby. It is said that on that day»
with the help of God and liltj FerrS, who, with his oira hand, as is
certified, laid low more than forty, the greater part of the EDgUjsh
who had come to this business never went back from it. But the
captain on onr side, William a- Larks, was there stricken mortaUy :
he was not yet dead when the fight ended ; he was carried away to
his bed ; he recognized all his comrades who were there, and soon
afterwards sank under his wounds. They buried him in the midst
of weeping, for he was wise and good."
"At the news of what had thus happened at Lougueil the
English were very disconsolate, saying that it was a shame that so
many and such brave warriors should have been slain by such
rustics. Next day they came together again from all their camps
in the neighbourhood, and went and made a vigorous attack at
Longueil on our folks, who no longer feared them hardly at all,
and went out of their walls to fight them. In the first rank was
Bi4j Feire of whom the English had heard so much talk. When
they saw him and when they felt the weight of his axe and his
arm, many of those who had come to this fight would liaye been
right glad not to be there* Many fled or were gi*ievousIy wounded
or slain. Some of the English nobles were taken. If our folks had
been willing to give them up for money, as the nobles do, they might
have made a gi*eat deal ; but they would not* When the fight was
over, Big Ferre, overcome with heat and fatigue, drank a large
quantity of cold water, and was forthwith seized of a fever. Ho
put himself to bed without pat*ting from his axe, which was so heavy
tluit a man of the usual strength could scarcely lift it from the ground
with both hands. The English, hearing that Buj Ferre was sick,
rejoiced greatly, and for fear he should get well they sent privily»
round about the place where he was lodged, twelve of their men
bidden to try and rid them of him. On espying them from afar,
his wife hurried up to his bed where he was laid, saying to liuu,
* My deal* Ferr{5, the English are coming, and I verily believe it m
for thee they are looking; what wilt thou do?' i% FerrVf for-
getting his sickness, armed himself in all haste, took his axe which
had already stricken to death so many foes, went out of Ids house,
and enteiing into his little yard shouted to the EngUsh as soon
Crap. XXn.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR.
18J)
I
I
as lie saw them, '^ Ali ! scoundrels^ you are coming to take mo in
my bed ; but you shall not get me/ He set himself against a wall
to be in surety from behind j and defended himself manfully with
his good axe and hig great heart. The English assailed him,
hiu-ning to slay or to take him ; but he resisted them so wondrously
that he brought down five much wounded to the ground and the
other seven took to flight* Big Ferrer returning in triumph to his
hed^ and heated again by the blows he had doalt^ again drank cold
Water in abundance and fell sick of a more violent fever. A few
days afterwards^ sinking under his sickness, and after having
received the holy sacraments. Big Ferre went out of this world,
and was buried in the burial-place of his own village. All his
comrades and his country wept for him bitterly, for, so long as he
lived, the English would not have come nigh this place*'*
There is probably some exaggeration about the exploits of Big
Ferre and the number of his victims. The story just quoted is
not, however, a legend; authentic and simple, it has all the
characteristics of a real and true fact, just as it was picked up,
partly from eye-witnesses and partly from hearsay, by the con-
temporary narrator* It is a faithful picture of the internal state of
the French nation in the fourteenth century : a nation in labour of
formation, a nation whoso elements, as yet scattered and inco-
hesive though under one and the samo name, were fermenting each
in its own quarter and independently of the rest, with a tendency
to mutual coalescence in a powerful unity but, as yet, far from
succeeding in it.
Externally, King (Jharles V. had scarcely easier work before
him. Between himself and his great rival j Edward IIT., king of
England, there was only such a peace as was fatal and hateful to
France- To escape some day from the treaty of Br^tigny and
rt*cover some of the provinces which had been lost by it — this was
what king and country secretly desired and laboured for. Pending
a favBurable opportunity for promoting this higher interest, war
rent on in Brittany between John of Montfort and Charles of
Blois, who continued to be encouraged and patronizefl, covertly,
one by the king of England, the other by the king of France.
Almost immediately after tb
190
HISTORY OP FRANOE^
[Chap. XXIL
again between liira aiul Iub brother-in-IaWj Charles the Bad, king^
of Navarre, the former being profoundly mistruBtfuI and the latter
bmzcnfacedlj perfidious, and botli detesting one another and
watching to seize the moment for taking advantage one of the othar.
The states bordering on France, amongst others Spain and Italy t
were a prey to discord and even civil wars^ which coidd not fail t<j
be a source of trouble or serious embarrassment to Fmnce. If
Spain two brothers, Peter the Cruel and Henry of Tranj^t-
were disputing the throne of Castile. Shortly after the m 4
of Charles V,, and in spito of his lively remonstranceg, in 1367,
Pope Urban V. quitted Avignon for Rome, whence he was not to
return to A\agnon till three years afterwards j and then only to die.
The emperor of Germany was, at this period ^ almost the only one
of the great sovereigns of Europe w^ho showed for France and her
kings a sincere good wilL When, in 1378, he went to Paris to jKij^
a visit to Charles V., he was pleased to go to St- Denis to see
tombs of Charles the Handsome and Philip of Valois, " In
young days," he said to the abbot, " I was nurtured at the hoi
of those good kings, who showed me much kindness ; I do n^qui
you affectionately to make good prayer to God for them*" Charlei
V- who had given him a very friendly reception was, no dftii1>t^^
included in this pious request.
In order to maintain the struggle against these difficullii
within and without, the means which Charles V, had at his dispo^
were of but moderate worth. He had three brothers and thr
sisters calculated rather to embarrass and sometimes even injui
him than to be of any service to him. Of his brothers the eldeiit
Louis, duke of Anjou, was restless, harsh, and beHicose, H|
upheld authority with no little energy in Languedoc, of whic
Charles had made him governor, but at the same time made
detested; and he was more taken up with hi? own ambitious vk
upon the kingdom of Naples, which Queen Joan of Hungary
transmitted to him by adoption, than with the interests of Franc
and her king- The second, John, duke of Berry, was an in^ignif
oant prince who has left no strong mai*k on history. The third
Philip the Bold, duke of Burgundy, after having been the favourite
of his father, King John, was likewise of his brother, Charles V.,
Chap, XXII.] THE HUNDRED YEAllS' WAR.
193
"wha did not besitate to still fiirtlier aggraadixe this vassal already
so groat, by obtaining for him in marriage the hand of Princoss
lliirgueritej heiress to the countship of Flanders j and this mar-
inage, which was destined at a later period to render the dukes of
Burgundy such formidable neighbours for the kings of France^ was
e7en in the lifetime of Charles Y* a cause of unpleasant complica-
tions both for France and Burgundy, Of King Charles' three
sisters^ the eldest^ Joan, was married to the king of Navarre,
Charles the Bad, and much more devoted to her husband than to
her brother; the second, Mary^ espoused Robert, duke of Bar, who
caused more annoyance than he rendered service to his brother-in-
kw the king of France ; and the tliirdj Isabel^ wife of Galeas
ViscoBti, duke of Milan, was of no use to her brother beyond
the fact of contnbuting, as we have seen, by her marriage to pay
i part of King John's ransom- Charles V», by kindly and judicious
behaviour in the bosom of his family, was able to keep serious
Huarrels or embarrassments from arising thence; but he found
ttorein neither real strength nor sure support*
His civil councillors, Ids chancellor, WilHam de Dormans,
cardinal-bishop of Beauvais ; his minister of finance, John do la
Grange, cardinal-bishop of Amiens ; his treasoi'er, Phihp de
SavoLsy ; and his chamberlain and private secretary, Bureau de la
Eiri^re, were, undoubtedly, men full of ability and zeal for his
wrice, for he had picked them out and maintained them un-
diangeably in their offices. There is reason to believe that they
conducted themselves discreetly, for we do not observe that after
tbir master's death there was any outburst against them, on the
pwt either of court or people, of that violent and deadly hatred
ffhich has so often caused bloodshed in the history of France,
Bumiu de la Eivifcre was attacked and prosecuted, without, how-
W€r, becoming one of the victims of judicial authority at the
nd of political passions. None of Charles V/a councillors
isod over his master that preponderating and confirmed
influence which makes a man a premier minister. Charles V.
liiinself assumed the direction of his own government, exhibiting
unwearied vigilance " but without hastiness and without noise."
There is a work, as yet unpublished, of M. Leopold Delisle, which
wiL. tr. 0
194
HISTORY
FRANCE.
[Chap. XX]
is to contain a complete explaoatory catalogue of all the Mfrnd^"
m^nfs et Aries divers de Charleg V. This catalogue, which forms a
pendant to a similar work performed by M, Delisle for the reign of
Philip Augustus, is not yet concluded; and, nevertheless, for the first
seven years only of Charles V.'s reign, from 1364 to 1371, there are
to be found enumerated and described in it 854 juandementSf ordon-
nances et adesdhwrs de Charles F.j relating to the different branches
of administration and to daily incidents of government : acts aU
bearing the impress of an intellect active, far-sighted, and bent
upon becoming acquainted with every thing and regulating every
thing not according to a general system but from actual and
exact knowledge, Charles always proved himself reflectivej un-
hurried, and anxious solely to comport himself in accordance vrith
the public interests and with good sense. He was one day at
table in his room with some of his intimates, when news was
brought him that the English had laid siege in Guienne, to a place
where there was only a small garrison not in a condition to hold out
unless it were promptly succoured. " The king," says Christine
de Pisan, '* showed no great outward emotion, and quite coolly,
as if the topic of conversation were something else, turned and
looked about him and, seeing one of his secretaries, summoned
him courteously and bade hira, in a whisper, write word to Louis
de Sancerre, his marshal, to come to him directly. They who
were there were amazed that though the matter was so weighty
the king took no great account of it. Some young esquires who
were waiting upon him at table were bold enough to say to him,
' Sir, give us the money to fit ourselves out, as many of us as are of
your household, for to go on this business ; we will be new-made
knights, and will go and raise the siege.' The king began to smile,
and said, 'It is not new-made knights that are suitable; they must
be all old.* Seeing that he said no more about it, some of them
added, ' What are your orders, sir, touching this affair which is of
haste?* 'It is not well to give orders in haste; when we see
those to whom it is meet to speak, we will give our orders.* '*
On another occasion, the treasurer of Nimes had died and the
king appointed his successor. His brother, the duke of Anjou,
came and asked for the place on behalf of one of his own intimate^
Chap. XXIL] THE HUNDRED YEABS^ WAH.
195
saying that he to whom the king had granted it was a man of straw
and without credit, Charles caused inquiries to be madej and then
said to the duke, *' Truly, fair brother > he for whom you have
spoken to me is a rich man^ but one of Mttle sense and bad
I behaviour/' ** Assuredly," said the duke of Anjon, "he to whom
Hg|9a have given the office is a man of straw and incompetent to fill
it/* "Why, prithee?*' asked the king, "Because he is a poor
man, the son of Bmall labouring folks who are still tillers of the
ground in our country." "Ah !" said Charles ; " is there nothing
more ? Assuredly, fair brother, we should prize more highly the
I poor man of wisdom than the profligate ass;" and he maintained
in the oflSce him whom he had put there.
The government of Charles V. was the personal government of
an intelligent, prudent, and honourable king, anxious for the
interests of the State, at home and abroad, as well as for his own,
with little inclination for and little confidence in the free co-.
operation of the country in its own affairs, but with wit enough to
cheerfiilly call upon it when there was any pressing necessity, and
accepting it then without chicanery or cheating, but safe to go back
u soon as possible to that sole dominion, a medley of patriotism
and selfishness, which is the very insufficient and very precarious
resource of peoples as yet incapable of applying their liberty to the
art of their own government. Charles V. had recourse three times,
ifl July, 1367, and in May and December, 1369, to a convocation
of the states*general, in order to be put in a position to meet the
political and financial difficulties of France, At the second of
these assemblies, when the chancellor, William de Dormans, had
explained the position of the kingdom, the king himself rose up
**for to say to all, that if they considered that he had done any
tluttg he ought not to have done, they should tell him so, and he
would amend what he had done, for there was still time to repair
it if he had done too much or not enough/' The question at that
time was as to entertaining the appeal of the barons of Aquitaine
to the king of Franco as suzerain of the prince of Wales, whose
goTernmunt hat] become intolerable, and to thus make a first move
to struggle out of the humiliating peace of Br^tigny. Such a step
and such words do gi*eat honour to the memory of the pacific
0 2
1
1
196
HISTORY OP FRANCE.
[CaiF, XXIL
prince who was at that time bearing the burden of the goyenimeiit
of France, It was Charles V/a good fortune to find amongst hia
servants a man who was destined to be the thunderbolt of war and
the glory of knighthood of his reign. About 1314, fifty years
before Charles' accession^ there was born at the castle of Motte*
Broon, near Rennes, in a family which could reckon two ancestors
amongst Godfrey de Bouillon's comrades in the first cnisade,
Bertrand du Guesclin, ^* the ugliest child from Rennes to Dinan/'
says a contemporary chronicle, flat-nosed and swarthy, thickset,
broad-shouldered, big-headed, a bad fellow, a regular wretch,
according to his own mother's words, given to violence, always
striking or being struck, whom his tutor abandoned without having
been able to teach him to read. At sixteen years of age he escaped
from the paternal mansion, went to Rennes, entered upon a course
of adventures, quarrels, challenges, and tourneys, in which he
distinguished himself by his strength, his valour, and likewise his
sense of honour. He joined the cause of Charles of Blois against
John of Montfort, when the two were claimants for the duchy of
Brittany ; but at the end of thirty years " neither the good of him
nor his prowess were as yet greatly renowned,'* says FroiBsart,
" save amongst the knights who were about him in the country of
Brittany." But Charles V,, at that time regent, had taken notice
of him in 1359, at the siege of Melun, where Du GuescUn had for
the first time borne arms in the service of France. When, in 1364,
Charles became king, he said to Boucicaut, marshal of France,
" Boucicaut, get you hence with such men as you have, and ride
towards Normandy ; you will there find sir Bertrand du Guesclin ;
hold yourselves in readiness, I pray you, you and he, to recover
from the king of Navarro the town of Mantes, which would make
us masters of the river Seine/* " Right willingly, sir," answered
Boucicaut; and a few weeks afterwards, on the 7th of April, 1364,
Boucicaut, by stratagem, entered Mantes with his troop, and Du
Gueschn, coming up suddenly with his, dashed into the town at a
a gaUopj shouting, " St, Yves 1 Guesclin I death, death to aU
Navarrese!" The two warriors did the same next day at the
gat^js of Meulan, three leagues from Mantes, " Thus were the two
cities taken, whereat King Charles V. was very joyous when ho
Chap. XXnj THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR-
ID?
heard the news; and the king of Navarre was very wroth, for he
set down as great hurt the loss of Mantes and of Mculan, which
made a mighty fine entmnce for him into France."
It was at Bheims during the ceremony of hia coronation that
Charles V, heard of his two officers' success* The war thus begun
against the king of Navarre was hotly prosecuted on both sldes.
Charles the Bad hastily collected his forces, Gascons, Normans,
and Enghsh, and put them under tho command of John de Grailli,
called the Captal of Buch, an officer of renown, Du Guesclin
recruited in Normandy, Picardy, and Brittany, and amongst the
bands of warriors which were now roaming all over France, The
plan of the Captal of Buch was to go and disturb the festivities at
Rheims, but at Cocherel, on the banks of the Eure, two leagues
from Evreux, he met the troops of Du Guesclin ; and the two armies,
pretty nearly equal iu number, halted in view of one another. Du
Guesclin held counsel and said to his comrades in arms, " Sirs, wo
know that iu front of us we have in the Captal as gallant a knight
E3 can be found to-day on all the earth ; so long as he shall be on
the spot he mil do ns great hurt ; set we then a-horseback thirty
of ourSj the most skilful and the boldest; they shall give heed to
nothing but to make straight towards the Captal, break through
the press, and get right up to him ; then they shall take him,
piH bim, carry him off amongst them and lead him away some
whither in safety without waiting for the end of the battle. If
he can be taken and kept in such way, the day will be ours, so
Astounded will his men be at his capture.'* Battle ensued at all
[joiuta [May 16, 1364] ; and, whilst it led to various encounters
mth various results, *' the picked thirty, well mounted on the
kiwer of steeds," says Froissart, " and with no thought but for
their enterprise, came all compact together to where was the Captal,
was fighting right valiantly with his axe, and was dealing
blows 80 mighty that none durst come nigh him ; but the thirty
broke through the press by dint of their horses, made right up to
him, halted hard by him, took him and shut him in amongst them
hy force ; then they voided the place and bare liim away in that
state, whilst his men, who were like to mad, shouted, * A rescue
for the Captal! a rescuer but naught could avail them or help
I
198
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XXIL
them ; and the Captal was carried off and placed in safety. In ttia
bustle and tui^moilj whilst the Navarresc and English were trying
to follow the track of the Captalj whom they saw being taken off
before their eyes, some French agreed with hearty good will to
bear down on the CaptaFs bannerj which was in a thicket and
whereof the Navari'ese made their own standard. Thereupon there
wag a great tumult and hard fighting there, for the banner was
well guarded and by good raen; but at last it was seiaed, won,
torn, and cast to the ground. The French were masters of the
battlefield ; sir Bertrand and his Bretons acquitted themselves
loyally and ever kept themselves well together, giving aid one to
another ; but it cost them dear in men,"
Charles was highly delighted, and after the victory resolutely
discharged his kingly part, rewarding and also punishing. Du
Gueschn w^as made marshal of Normandy^ and received as a gift the
oountship of Longneville, confiscated from the king of Navarre.
Certain Frenchmen who had become confidants of the king of
Navarre were executed, and Charles V. ordered his generals to no
longer show any mercy for the future to subjects of the kingdom
who were found in the enemy's ranks. The wai* against Charles
the Bad continued. Charles V., encouraged by his successea,
determined to take part likewise in that which was still going
on between the two claimants to the dnchy of Brittany, Charles of
Blois and John of Montfort. Du Guesclin was sent to support
Charles of Blois, *^ whereat he was greatly rejoiced," says Froissart,
"for he bad always held the said lord Charles for his rightful lord."
The count and countess of Blois '* received him right joyously and
pleasantly, and the best part of the barons of Brittany likew*ise had
lonl Charles of Blois in regard and affection." Du Guesclin
entered at once on the campaign and marched upon Auray which
was being besieged by the count of Montfort. But there he wM
destined to encounter the most formidable of his adversaries,
John of Montfort had claimed the support of his patron the king
of England, and John Chandos, the most famous of the English
commanders, had apphed to the prince of Wales to know wlmt he
was to do. ** You may go full well," the prince had answered,
" since the French are going for the count of Blois ; I give you
CaAP. xxn.]
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
199
I
good leave;'* ChandoSi delighted, set hastily to work recruiting.
Only a few Aquitanians decided to join him, for they were begins
ning to be disgusted with English riiile, and the French national
spirit was developing itself throughout Gascony even in the prince
of Wales' immediate circle, Chandoa reemited scarcely any but
EngUsh or Bretons and when, to the great joy of the count of
Montfort, lie arrived before Auray, ** he brought/' says Froissart,
** full sixteen hundred fightiog-men, knights, and squires, English
and Breton, and about eight or nine bundi'ed archers," Du Gues-
clin*s troops were pretty nearly equal in number and not less brave,
but less well disciplined and probably also less ably commanded*
The battle took place on the 29th of September, 1364, before
Auray, The attendant circumstances and the result have already
been recounted in the twentieth chapter of this history ; Charles
of Blois was killed and Du Guesclin was made prisoner- The cause
of John of Montfort was clearly won ; and he, on taking possession
of the duchy of Brittany, asked nothing better than to acknowledge
himdelf vassal of the king of Franee and swear fidelity to him.
Charles V, had too much judgment not to foresee that, even
after a defeat, a peace which gave a lawful and definite solution to
the question of Brittany rendered his relations and means of
influeuce with this important province much more to be depended
upon than any success which a prolonged war might pronoise him.
Accordingly he made peace at Gu^rande, on the 1 1th of April, 1366,
after having disputed the conditions inch by inch ; and some weeks
previously, on the 6th of March, at the indirect instance of the
ting of Navarre, who, since the battle of Cocherel, had felt himself
in peril, Charles V* had likemse put an end to his open struggle
against his perfidious neighbour, of whom he certainly did not cease
to be mis trustful. Being thus delivered from every external war
and declared enemy, the wise king of France was at Uberty to
devote himself to the re*establishment of internal peace and of
order throughout his kingdom which was in the most pressing need
thereof.
We have no doubt, even in our own day, cruel experience of the
ittaorders and evils of war ; but we can form, one would say, but a
wry incomplete idea of what they were in the fourteenth century.
200
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. SXII
without any of those humane administrative measures^ still so
ineffectual — provisionings, hospitals, ambulances, barracks, and
encampments — ^which are taken in the present day to prevent or
repair them. The Remeil drs Ordonnanees des Eois ds France is
full of isafeguarda granted by Charles V. to monasteries and hos-
pices and communes, which implored his protection, that they might
have a little less to suffer than the country in generaL We mil
borrow from the best informed and the most intelligent of the
contemporary chroniclers, the Continuer of William of Nangis* a
picture of those sufferings and the causes of them. " There was
not," he says J " in Anjou, in Touraine, in Beauce, near Orleans
and up to the approaches of Paris, any corner of the countty which
was free from plunderers and robbers. They were so numerous
every where, either in little forts occupied by them or in the
villages and country-places, that peasants and tradesf oiks could not
travel but at great expense and great peril. The very guards told
off to defend cultivators and travellers took part most shamefiillyin
harassing and despoiling them. It was the same in Burgundy and
the neighbouring countries. Some knights who called themselves
friends of the king and of the king^s majesty, and whose names 1
am not minded to set down here, kept in their service brigands who
■ were quita as bad. What is far more strange is that when those
folks went into the cities, Paris or elsewhere, every body knew
them and pointed them out, but none durst lay a hand upon tliem.
I saw one night at Paris, in the suburb of St, Germain des Pr^s,
while the people were sleeping, some brigands who were abiding
with their cliieftains in the city, attempting to sack certain bos-
pices; they were arrested and imprisoned in the Chatelet, but,
before long, they were got off, declared innocent, and set at liberty
without undergoing the least punishment ; a ^eat encourag€iiiezit
for them and their like to go still farther, • , . When the king gave
Bertrand du Guesclin the countship of LongueviUe, in the diocese
of Rouen, which had belonged to Philip, brother of the king of
Navarre, Du Guesclin promised the king that he would diivo out
by force of ^ms all the plunderers and robbers, those eneniies of
the kingdom ; but he did nothing of the sort ; nay, the Bretons
even of Du Guesclin, on returning from Rouen, pillaged and stote
Cbap. XXn.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAE.
201
fe
in the villages whatever they fomid there, garmentB, horses, sheep,
Dsen, and beasts of burden and of tillage.*'
Charles V< was notj as Louis XII, and Henry lY. were, of
a disposition fiill of affection and sympathetioally inclined towards
his people ; but he was a practical man who, in his closet and in
the Ubrary growing up about Mm, took thought for the interests
of his kingdom as well as for his own ; he tad at heart the public
good, and lawlessness was an abomination to him» He had just
purchased at a ransom of a hundred thousand francs, tlie liberty of
Bertrand du Guesclin, who had remained a prisoner in the hands
of John Ghandos, after the battle of Aurayt An idea occurred to
him that the vaUant Breton might be of use to him in extricating
France from the deplorable condition to which she had been
reduced by the bands of plunderers roaming every where over her
soil. We find in the Ghroiikle m verse of Bertrand Cruesclin, by
Cnveher, a troubadour of the fourteenth century, a detailed account
of the king^a perplexities on this subject and of the measures he
took to apply a remedy. We cannot regard this account as strictly
historical ; but it is a picture, vivid and morally true, of events and
men as they were understood and conceived to be by a contempo-
rary^ a mediocre poet but a spirited narrator. We will reproduce
tlie principal features, modifying the language to make it more
easily intelligible, but without altering the fundamental character.
" There were so many folk who went about pillaging the country
of France that the king was sad and doleful at heart. He summoned
iua council and said to them : 'What shall we do with this multitude
of thieves who go about destroying our people? If I send against
them my valiant baronage I lose my noble barons, and then I shall
never more have any joy of ray life. If any could lead these folk
into Spain against the miscreant and tyrant Pedro, who put our
sister to death, I would like it well whatever it might cost me/
" Bertrand du Gueschn gave ear to the king, and * Sir king/
ssud he, * it is ray heart's desire to cross over the seas and go fight
tht3 heathen with the edge of the sword; but if I could come nigh this
folk which doth anger you I would deliver the kingdom from them.*
*I should like it well/ said the king. * Say no more/ said Bertrand
give it no further thought.*
202
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Ceap. XXIL
** Bertrand du Gaesclia summoned his herald > and said to hitn,
* Go tliou to the Grand Compamj and have all the captains
assembled ; thou wilt go and demand for me a safe-conduct, for I
have a great desire to parley with them/ The herald mounted his
fcorse and went a-seeking these folk toward Ch&lon-sur-la-SaAne.
They were seated together at dinner and were drinking good wine
from the cask they had pierced. * Sirs/ said the herald, ' the
blessing of Jesus bo on you ! Bertrand du GuescUn prayeth you
to let him parley with all in company*' * By my faith, gentle
herald,' said Hugh de Calverley^ who was master of the Enghsh»
* I will readily see Berirand here^ and will give him good wine ; I
can well give it him, in sooth, I do assure you, for it costs me
nothing/ Then the herald departed, and returned to his lord and
told hira the news of this company.
** So away rode Bertrandj and halted not ; and he rode so far that
he came to the Grand Compamj and then did greet them, * Grod
keep/ said he, * the companions I see yonder ! ' Then they bowei
down; each abased himself* *I vow to God/ said Bertrand,
* whosover will be pleased to believe me ; I will make you all rich/
And they answered, * Right welcome here ; sir, we will all do
whatsoever is your pleasure/ * Sirs/ said Bertrand^ * be pleased
to listen to me; wherefore I am come I will tell unto you*
I come by order of the king in whose keeping is France, and
who would be right glad» to save his people,, that ye should
come with me whither I should be glad to go ; into good company
I fain would bring ye- If we would all of us look into our hearts,
wo might full truly consider that we have done enough to damn
our souls ; think we but how we have dealt with life, outraged ladies
and burned houses, slain men, children and every body set to
ransom, how we have eaten up cows, oxen, and sheep, drunk gcMjd
wines and done worse than robbers do. Let us do honour to God
and forsake the deviL Ask, if it may please you, all the companions,
all the knights and all the barons ; if you be of accord, we
will go to the king, and I will have the gold got ready which we do
promise you ; I would fain get together all my friends to make the
journey we so strongly desire/ **
Du Guesclin then explained, in broad terms which left the choice
Chaf.XXIL] the hundred YEARS' WAR. 205
to the Qra/nd Company^ what this journey was which was so much
desired. He spoke of the king of Cyprus, of the Saracens of
Granada, of the pope of Avignon, and especially of Spain and the
king of Castile, Pedro the Cruel, " scoundrel-murderer of his wife
(Blanche of Bourbon)," on whom above all Du Guesclin wished to
draw down the wrath of his hearers. " In Spain," he said to them,
** we might largely profit, for the country is a good one for leading
a good life, and there are good wines which are neat and clear."
Nearly all present, whereof were twenty-five famous captains,
" confirmed what was said by Bertrand." " Sirs," said he to them
at last, " listen to me : I will go my way and speak to the king of
the Franks ; I will get for you those two hundred thousand francs ;
you shall come and dine with me at Paris, according to my desire,
when the time shall have come for it ; and you shall see the king,
who will be rejoiced thereat. We will have no evil suspicion in
any thing, for I never was inclined to treason and never shall be
as long as I live." Then said the valiant knights and esquires to
him, " Never was more valiant man seen on earth ; and in you we
have more belief and faith than in all the prelates and great clerics
who dwell at Avignon or in France."
When Du Guesclin returned to Paris, " Sir," said he to the king,
" I have accomplished your wish ; I will put out of your kingdom
all the worst folk of this Grand Company^ and I will so work it
that every thing shall be saved." " Bertrand," said the king to
him, " may the Holy Trinity be pleased to have you in their
keeping, and may I see you a long while in joy and health !"
** Noble king," said Bertrand, " the captains have a very great
desire to come to Paris, your good city." "I am heartily willing,"
said the king, " if they come, let them assemble at the Temple ;
elsewhere there is too much people and too much abundance ; there
might be tx)0 much alarm. Since they have reconciled themselves
to us, I would have naught but friendship with them."
The poet concludes the negotiation thus : " At the bidding of
Bertrand, when he understood the pleasure of the noble king of
France, all the captains came to Paris in perfect safety ; they were
conducted straight to the Temple ; there they were feasted and
dined nobly, and received many a gift), and all was sealed."
206
HISTORY OF FBAl^CE.
[Chap, XXIL
Matters went, afc the outset at least, as Du Guesclin had pro-
mised to the king on the one side, and on the other to the
captains of the Crraiid Covipany* There was, in point of fact, a
civil war raging in Spain between Don Pedro the Cruel, king of
Castile, and his natural brother, Henrj of Transtaniare, and that
was the theatre on which Du Gueschn had first proposed to launch
the vagabond army which he desired to get out of France, It does
not appear, however, that at their departure from Burgundy at the
and of November, 1365, this army and its chiefs had in this respect
any well considered resolution or any well defined aim in their
movements. They made first for Avignon, and Pope Urban V,y
on hearing of their approach, was somewhat disqiiieted, and sent to
them one of his cardinals to ask them what was their wilh If we
jnay believe the poet-chronicler, Cuvelier> the mission was any
thing but pleasing to the cardinal, who said t^ one of his confi-
dants, *' I am grieved to be set to this business, for I am sent to
a pack of madmen who have not an hour's, nayi not even half-an-
hour's conscience/' The captains replied that they were going to
fight the heathen either in Cyprus or in the kingdom of Granada,
and that they demanded of the pope absolution of their sins and
two hundred thousand livres, which Du Guesclin had promised
them in his name> The pope cried out against this* ** Here,"
said he^ '* at Avignon, we have money given us for absolution, and
we must give it gratis to yonder folks, and give them money also :
it is quite against reason." Du Guesclin insisted, " Know you,"
said he to the cardinal, ** that there are in this army many folks
who care not a whit for absolution and who would much rather
have money ; we are making them proper men in spite of them-
selves, and are leading them abroad that they may do no mischief
to Christians. Tell that to the pope ; for else we could not take
them away," The pope yielded and gave them the two hundred
thousand livres. He obtained the money by levies upon the popu-
lation of Avignon. They no doubt complained loudly, for the chiefs
of the Grwnd Company were informed thereof, and Du Guesclin
said, " By the faith that I owe to the Holy Trinity I will not take
a denier of that which these poor folks have given ; let the pope
and the clerics give us of their own ; we desire that all they who
WAR,
have paid the tax do recover their money without losing a doit;'*
and, according to contemporary chronicles, the vagabond army did
not withdraw until they had obtained this satisfaction. The piety
of the middle ages, though sincere, was often less disinterested and
more rough than it is commonly represented.
On arriving at Toulouse from Avignon, Du Guesclin and his
bands, with a strength, it is said, of 30,000 men, took the decided
resolution of going into Spain to support the cause of Prince Henry
of Transtamare against the king of Castile his brother, Don Pedro
the CrueK The duke of Anjou, governor of Languedoc, gave them
encouragement, by agreement no doubt with King Charles V.
and from anxiety on his own part to rid his province of such in-
convenient visitors. On the Ist of January, 1366, Du GuescUn
entered Barcelona, whither Henry of Transtamare came to join,
him. There is no occasion to give a detailed account here of that
expedition, which appertains much more to the history of Spain
than to that of France- There was a brief or almost no struggle.
Henry of Transtamare was crowned king, first at Calahorra, and
afterwards at Burgos. Don Pedro, as much despised before long
as he was already detested, fled from Castile to Andalusia, and
from Andalusia to Portugal, whose king would not grant him an
asylum in his dominions, and he ended by embarking at Corunna
for Bordeaux, to implore the assistance of the Prince of Wales, who
pve hira a warm and a magnificent reception, Edward III., king
of England, had been disquieted by the march of the Grarid^ Com-^
fmtj into Spain, and had given John Chandos and the rest of his
chief commanders in Guienne orders to be vigilant in preventing
the English from taking part in the expedition against his cousin
the king of Castile ; but several of the English chieftains, serving
in the bands and with Du Guesclin, set at naught this prohibition;
and contributed materially to the fall of Don Pedro. Edward III,
did not consider that the matter was any infraction on the part of
France of the treaty of Bretigny, and continued to live at peace
with Charles V., testifying his displeasure, however, all the same.
Bat when Don Pedro had reached Bordeaux, and had told the
prince of Wales that, if he obtained the support of England, he
would make the prince's eldest son, Edward, king of Galicia, and
208
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[CflAP. XXil.
share amongst tlie prince's warriors the treasure he had left in
Castile, so well concealed that he alone knew where, ** the knighta
of the prince of Wales," says Froissart, " gave ready heed to \m
words, for English and Gascons are by nature covetous/* The
prince of Wales immediately summoned the harons of Aquitainej
and on the advice they gave him sent four knights to London to
ask for instructions from the king his father* Edward III* as-
sembled his chief conncilloTs at Westminster, and finally "it
seemed to all course due and reasonable on the part of the prince
of Wales to restore and conduct the king of Spain to his king^
dom ; to which end they wrote official letters from the king and
the council of England to the prince and the barons of Aquitaine*
When the said barons heard the letters read they said to the
prince, * My lord, we will obey the command of the king our
master and your father ; it is but reason, and we will serve you
on this journey and king Pedro also ; but we would know who
shall pay us and deliver us our wages, for one does not take
men-at-arms away from their homes to go a warfare in a foreign
land without they be paid and delivered. If it were a matter
touching our dear lord your father's affairs, or your own, or your
honour or our country's, we would not speak thereof so much
beforehand as we do.' Then the prince of Wales looked towards
the prince Don Pedro and said to him, * Sir king, you hear what
these gentlemen say ; to answer is for you who have to employ
them.' Then the king Don Pedro answered the prince, * My dear
cousin, so far as my gold, my silver, and all my treasure which I
have brought with me hither, and which is not a thirtieth part so
great as that wliich there is yonder, will go, I am ready to give it
and share it amongst your gentry.' * You say well,* said the prince,
* and for the residue I will be debtor to them, and I will lend you
all you shall have need of until we be in Castile,* * By my head,'
answered the king Don Pedro, * you will do me great grace and
great courtesy/"
Wlien the English and Grascon chieftains who had followed Du
Guesclin into Spain heard of the resolutions of their king, Edwaiid
m., and the preparations made by the prince of Wales for going
and restoring Don Pedro to the throne of Castile, they withdrew
CmXXn,] THE HUNDRED TEARS^ WAR.
209
from the cause which tbey had just brought to an issue to the
advantage of Henry of Transtamare, separated from the French
taptain who had been their leader, and marched back into Aquitainej
quite ready to adopt the contrary cause and follow the prince of
Wales in the service of Don Pedro, The greater part of the
adTenturers, Burgundian, Picardj Champagnese^ Norman, and
others who had enlisted in the bands which Du Guesclin had
marched out of France, likewise quitted him, after reaping the
fruits of their raid, and recrossed the Pyrenees to go and resume
in France their life of roving and pillage. There remained in
Spain about fifteen hundred men-at-arms faithful to Du Guesclin,
biiaself faithful to Henry of Transtamare, who had made him
constable of Castile.
Amidst all these vicissitudes and at the bottom of all events as
reU as of all hearts there still remaioed the great fact of the
period, the struggle between the two kings of France and England
for dominion in that beautiful country which, in spite of its dismem-
berment, kept the name of France. Edward III. in London, and
tb prince of Wales at Bordeaux, could not see without serious
disquietude, the most famous warrior amongst the French crossing
the PjTenees with a following for the most part French, and
nitotting upon the throne of Castile a prince necessarily allied to the
king of France. The question of rivalry between the two kings
ani the two peoples had thus been transferred into Spain, and for
tlie moment the victory remained with France. After several
iioaths' preparation the prince of Wales, purchasing the com-
plicity of the king of Navarre, marched into Spain in February,
1367, with an army of 27,000 men, and John Chandos, the most
able of the English warriors* Henry of Transtamare had troops
more numerous but less disciplined and experienced* The two
armies joined battle on the 3rd of April, 1367, at Najara or
Navarette, not far from the Ebro. Disorder and even sheer rout
soon took place amongst that of Henry, who flung himself before
the fugitives, shouting, "Why would ye thus desert and betray me,
ya who have made me king of Castile ? Turn back and stand by
me; and by the grace of God the day shall be ours," Du Guesclin
, aad his men-at-arms maintained the fight with stubborn courage.
310
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXU.
but at last they wei*e beaten and either slain or taken. To the lai
moment Du Guesclin, with his back against u wall, defended hiru-
Belf heroically against a host of assailants. The prince of Wales
coming up, cried out, " Gentle marshals of France, and you t
Bertrand, yield yourselves to me/' '* Why, yonder men are my
foes," cried the king Don Pedro; '4t is they who took from me my
kingdom, and on them I mean to take vengeance." Du Guesclin
darting forward struck so rough a blow with his sword at Don
Pedro that he brought him fainting to the ground, and then
tunung to the prince of Wales said, " Nathless I give up my
sword to the most valiant prince on earth/* The prince of AVales
took the sword, and charged the Captal of Bucli with the prisoners
keeping. '*Aha! sir Bertrand/' said the Captal to Du Guesclin^
you took me at the battle of Cocherel, and to-day I've got you/*
** Yes/' replied Du GuescUn ; *' but at Cocherel I took you myself^
and here you are only my keeper/' ^M
The battle of Najara being overj and Don Pedro the Cruel restored
to a throne which he was not to occupy for long, the prince of
Wales returned to Bordeaux with his army and his prisoner Du
Guesclin, whom he treated courteously, at the same time that he
kept him pretty strictly. One of the English chieftains who had
been connected with Du Guesclin at the time of his expedition into
Spain, sir Hugh Calverley, tried one day to induce the prince of
Wales to set the French warrior at Uberty, " Sir/' said he,
*' Bertrand is a right loyal knight, but he is not a rich man or in
estate to pay much mouey; he would have good need to end hiH
captivity on easy terms/' " Let be," said the prince, *' I have no
care to take aught of his ; I will cause his life to be prolonged in
spite of himsulf : if he were released, he would be in battle again
and always a-making war/* After supper, Hugh without any
beating about the bush, told Bertrand the prince's answer. *' Sir/'
he said, " I cannot bring about your release.*' ** Sir,'* said
Bertrand, " think no more of it ; I will leave the matter to the
decision of God, who is a good and just master/* Some time afler,
Du Guesclin having sent a request to the prince of Wales to admit
him to ransom, the prince one day when he was in a gay humour
had him brought up^ and told him that his advisers had urgi«d him
rifAf.XXIL] THE HUNDRED YEAR& WAB.
211
not bo give him bis liberty so long as the war between France and
£n gland lasted. " Hir/' said Dii Guescliu to him, " then am 1 the
most honoured knight in the world, for they say, in the kingdom of
Fr^Qce and elsewhere, that you are more afraid of me than of any
ottier/* ** Think you, then, it is for your knighthood that we do
ko^p yoo?" said the prince: **nay, by St. George; fix you your
o%%^n ransom, and you sliall be released/' Du Gucsclin proudly
fisc:^ his i^nsom at a hundred thousand francs, which seemed a
IflLX^ge sum, even to the prince of Wales* " Sir," said Du Guescliu
to him, ** the king in whose keeping is France will lend me what
1 lack, and there is not a spinning- wench in France who would not
e^in to gain for me what is necessary to put me out of your
clutches/* The advisers of the prince of Wales would have had
Ydni think better of it, and break his promise; but *' that which we
HaYci agreed to with him we will hold to/* said the prince ; '* it
would be shame and confusion of face to us if we could be
reproached with not getting him to ransom when he is ready to set
liimself down at so mucli as to pay a hundred thousand francs/'
Prince and knight were both as good as then* word- Du Guescliu
found amongst his Breton friends a portion of the sum he wanted ;
King Charles V, lent him thirty thousand Spanish doubloons, which,
bj a deed of December 27th, 1367, Du Guesclin undertook to
ffepay: and at the beginning of 1368 the prince of Wales set the
FVench warrior at liberty*
The first use Du Guesclin made of it was t^ go and put his name
and his sword at the service first of the duke of Anjou, governor of
Languedoc, who was making war in Provence against Queen Joan of
Xaples, and then of his Spanish patron, Uenry of Trans tamare, who
liad recommenced the war in Spain against liis brother^ Pedro the
Cruel, whom he was before long to dethrone for the second time
and slay with his own hand- But whilst Du Guesclin was taking
part in this settlement of the Spanish question, important events
called him back to the north of the Pp'enees for the service of his
oirn king, the defence of his own country, and the aggrandizement
of hi.^ own fortunes* The English and Gascon bands which, in
1367, bad recrossed the Pyrenees with the prince of Wales, after
haring restored Don Pedro the Cruel to the throne of Castile had
r 2
212
HISTORY OP PRANCE.
[Chap,
not disappeared. Having no more to do in their own prince «
service, they had spread abroad over France, which they called
" their apartment," and recommenced, in the countries hetween the
Seine and the Loire, their life of vagabondage and pillage* A
general outcry was raised ; it was the prince of Wales, men said,
who had let them loose, and the people called them the host (army)
of Engl mid, A proceeding of the prince of Wales Inmself had the
effect of adding to the rage of the people that of the aristocratic
classes. He was lavish of expenditure, and held at Bordeaux a
magnificent court, for which the revenues from his domains and
ordinary resources were insuflScient j so he imposed a tax for five
years of ten sous per hearth or family, " in order to satisfy," he
said, *Hhe large claims against him." In order to levy this tax
legally, he convoked the estates of Aquitaine, first at Niort and
then, successively, at Angoulfime, Poitiers, Bordeaux, and Bergerac;
hut nowhere could he obtain the vote he demanded, ^^ When w©
obeyed the king of Prance,*' said the Gascons, "we were never so
aggrieved with subsidies, hearth-taxes, or gabels, and we will not
be as long as we can defend ourselves," The prince of Wales
persisted in his demands. He was ill and irritable, and was
becoming truly the Black Prince* The Aquitanians too became
irritated. The prince's more temperate advisers, even those of
English birth, tried in vain to move him from his stubborn course.
Even John Chandos, the most notable as well as the wisest of them,
failed, and withdrew to his domain of St, Sauveur, in Normandy,
that he might have nothing to do with measures of which he
disapproved. Being driven to extremity, the principal lords of
Aquitaine, the counts of Comminges, of Armagnac, of Perigonl,
and many barons besides, set out for France, and made com-
plaint, on the 30th of June, 1368, before Charles V. and his peers,
"on account of the grievances which the prince of Wales vras
purposed to put upon them." They had recourse, thoy said, to
the king of France as their sovereign lord, who had no power to
renounce his suzerainty or the jurisdiction of his court of peers and
of his parliament. ^
Nothing could have corresponded better with the wishes of
Charles V* For eight years past he had taken to heart the treaty
CoAJ^^XXn.] THE HUNDRED YEAItS' WAR.
213
of Br^tigny, and h© was as determined not to miss as he was
patient in waiting for an opportunity for a breach of it. But he
was too prudent to act with a precipitation which would have given
his ixinduct an appearance of a premeditated and deep-laid purpose
for which there was no legitimate ground. He did not care to
entertain at once and unreservedly the appeal of the Aquitanian
lords. He ^ve them a gracious reception and made them '* great
cbeer and rich gifts ;" but he announced his intention of thoroughly
examining the stipulations of the treaty of Br^tigny and the rights
of his kingship. " He sent for into his council-chamber all thu
charters of the peace, and then he had them read on several days
and at full leisure-" He called into consultation the schools of
Boulogne, of Montpellierj of Toulouse, and of Orleans, and the
mogt learned clerks of the papal court. It was not until he had
tlius ascertained the legal means of maintaining that the stipula-
tions of the treaty of Brutigny had not all of them been performed
bj the king of England, and that, consequently, the king of France
hA not lost all his rights of suzerainty over the ceded provinces,
tlmt on the 25th of January, 1369, just six months after the appeal
of the Aquitanian lords had been submitted to him, he adopted it,
in the following terms, which he addressed to the prince of Wales
at Bordeaux, and which are here curtailed in their legal ezprea-
lions ; —
" Charles, by the grace of God king of France, to our nephew the
prince of Wales and of Aqiiitaine, greeting. Whereas many prelates,
bftroasj knights, universities, communes, and colleges of the country
of Gascony and the duchy of Aquitaine have come thence into our
presaice that they might have justice touching certain undue
grievances and vexations which yon, through weak counsel and
silly advice, have designed to impose upon them, whereat we are
quite astounded , , - , we of our kingly majesty and lordship do
command you to como to our city of Paris, in your own person,
and to present yourself before us in our chamber of peers, for to
hear justice touching the said complaints and grievances proposed
by you to be done to your people wlilch claims to have resort to
our court, , . . And be it as quickly as you may/*
** When the prince of Wales had read this letter," says Froiasart,
214
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chaf. XSU*
" he shook his head and looked askant at the aforesaid Frenchmen ;
and when he had thought a while, he answered j - We will go
willingly, at our own time, since the king of France doth bid us, but
it shall be with our casque on our head^ and with sixty thousand
men at our back-' "
This was a declaration of war ; and deeds followed at once
words. Edward III., after a short and fruitless attempt at an
accommodation, assumed on the 3rd of June, 1369, the title of
king of France^ and ordered a levy of all his subjects betwee^j
sixteen and sixty, laic or ecclesiastical, for the defence of Englan^S^
threatened by a French fleet which was cruising in the ClianneL
He sent reinforcements to the prince of Wales, whose brother, the
duke of Lancaster, landed with an army at Calais ; and he offered
to all the adventurers with whom Europe was teeming possession
of all the fiefs they could conquer in France. Charles V< on his
side \ngorously pushed forward his preparations ; he had begun i
them before he showed his teeth, for as early as the 19th of July,
1368, he had sent into Spain ambassadors with orders to conclude
an alliance with Henry of Transtamare against the king of England
and his souj whom he called " the duke of Aquitaine.*' On the
12th of April, 1369, he signed the treaty which, by a contract of
marriage between his brother, Philip the Bold, duke of Burgundy,
and the princess Marguerite of Flanders, transferred the latter rich
province to the House of France, Lastly he summoned to Paris
Du Guesclin, who, since the recovery of his freedom, had been
fighting at one time in Spain and at another in the south of Fran^
and announced to him his intention of making him constabl
" Dear sir and noble king," said the honest and modest Breton, " I
do pray you to have me excused; I am a poor knight and petty
bachelor- The office of constable is so gi'and and noble that he
who would well discharge it should have had long previous practice
and command, and rather over the great than the small. Here
are my lords your brothers, your nephews, and your cousins,
who will liave charge of men-at-arms in the armies, and the
rwUm a-fiuld, and how durst I lay commands on them? In sooth,
dir, jealousies be so strong that I cannot well but be afeard of them.
^o afTcctionately pray you to dispense with me and to confer
chaf.xxil] the hundred yeaes' war
215
it upon another who will more willingly take it than I, and will
know better how to fill it/* " Sir Bertrand, sir Bertrand/' an*
swered the kingj " do not excuse yourself after this fashion ; I have
nor brother, nor cousin, nor nephew, nor count, nor baron in my
kingdom who^ would not obey you ; and if any should do otherwise,
he would anger me so that he would hear of it. Take therefore
the office with a good hearty I do beseech you." Sir Bertrand saw
rell, says Froissart, " that his excuses were of no avail, and finally
lie assented to the king*s opinion ; but it was not without a struggle
aud to his great disgust, . * . In order to give him further en<-
coiiragement and advancement the king did set him close to him
at table, showed him all the signs he could of affection, and gave him,
together with the office, many handsome gitls and great estates for
liims<>tf and his heirs/* Charles V. might fearlessly lavish his gifts
OD the loyal warrior, for Du Guesclin felt nothing more binding
upon him than to lavish them in his turn for the king's service.
He gave numerous and sumptuous dinners to the barons, knights,
and Boldiers of every degree whom he was to command*
'* At Bertrand's plate gazed every eye.
So maa&ive, chased m gloriously/'
«|J8 the poet-chronicler, Cnvelier; but Du Guesclin pledged it
uiore than once, and sold a great portion of it in order to pay
'^titbout fail the knights and honourable fighting-men of whom he
was the leader/'
Tbe war thus renewed was hotly prosecuted on both sides, A
sen^ment of nationahty became from day to day more keen and more
geoeral in France, At the commencement of hostilities, it burst
forth particularly in the North ; the burghers of Abbeville opened
their gates to the count of St< Pol, and in a single week St,
Valery, Crofcoy, and all the places in the countship of Ponthieu
followed this example- The movement made progress before long
in the South p Montauban and Milhau hoisted on their walls the
royal standard ; the archbishop of Toulouse '* went riding through
tlie whole of Quercy, preaching and demonstrating the good cause
of the king of France ; and he converted, without striking a blow,
Cahors and more than sixty towns, castles, or fortresses/' Charles
V, neglected no means of encouraging and keeping up the public
21G
HISTORY OF FBANCE.
[Chaf- XXII,
impulse. It has been remarked tbat, as early as the 9tli of May,
1369, he bad convoked the states-general , declaring to them in
person that ** if they considered that he hail done any thing hi5
ought not they should say so, and he would amend it, for there wii^
stiU time for reparation if he had done too much or^not enough/*
Ho called a new meeting on the 7th of December, 1369, afier the
explosion of hostilities, and obtained from them the most extensiTe
subsidies they had ever granted. They were as staunch to the
king in principle as in purse, and their interpretations of the treaty
of Brctigny went far beyond the grounds which Charles had put
forward to justify war- It was not only on the upper classes and
on political minds that the king endeavoured to act, he paid atteU'
tion also to popular impressions ; he set on foot in Paris a series of
processions, in which he took part in person, and the queen also,
** barefoot and unsandaled, to pray God to graciously give heed to
the doings and affairs of the kingdom,"
But at the same time that he was thus making his appeal,
throughout France and by every me^nSj to the feehng of nationality,
Charles remained faithful to the rule of conduct which had been
inculcated in him by the experience of his youth ; he recommended,
nay he commanded, all his military captains to avoid any general
engage mant with the English, It was not without great difficult
that he wrung obedience fi'om the feudal nobility who, more ni
rous very often than the English, looked upon such a prohibition
as an insult, and sometimes withdrew to their castles rather than
submit to it ; and even the king's brother, PhiUp the Bold, openly
in Biu"gundy testified his displeasure at it, Du Guesclin, baring
more intelligence and firnmesSj even before becoming constdble
and at the moment of quitting the duke of Anjou at Toulouse, had
advised him not to accept battle, to well fortify all the places that
had been recovered, and to let the Enghsh scatter and waste them*
sehree in a host of small expeditious and distant skirmisher
constantly renewed. When once he was constable, Du Gueschii
put determinedly in practice the king's maxim, calndy confident in
his own fame fur valour whenever be had to refuse to yield to the
impjitience of his comrades.
This detached and indecisive war lasted eight years, with
Ceiaf. XXII.]
THE HUNDRED YEAES' WAR.
217
medley of more or less serious incidents, wliicli, however, did not
ckangB its cliaracter. In 1370 the prince of Wales laid siege to
Lioaoges, which had opened its gates to the duke of Berry. He was
already so ill that he could not mount his horse^ and had himself
ed in a litter from post to postj to follow up and direct the
operations of the siege. In spite of a month's resistance the prince
took the place and gave it up as a prey to a mob of reckless plun-
derers whose excesses were such that Froissart himself, a spectator
generally so indiflFerent and leaning rather to the English, was
deeply shocked. " There,'* said he, **wa8 a great pity j for men,
women, and children threw themselves on their knees before the
prince, and cried, * Mercy, gentle sir!' but he was so inflamed
witL passion that he gave no heed, and none, male or female, was
listeaed to, but all were put to the sword. There is no heart so
hard but, if present then at Limoges and not forgetful of God,
would have wept bitterly, for more than three thousand persons,
mn^ women, and children were there beheaded on that day< May
God receive their souls, for verily they were martyrs T* The
massacre of Limoges caused, throughout France, a feeling of horror
mi indignant anger towards the English name* In 1373 au
English army landed at Calais, under the command of the duke of
Uncaster, and overran nearly the whole of France, being inces-
saatly harassed, however, without ever being attacked in force, and
without mastering a single fortress. " Let them be," was the
Mjing in the king's circle ; ** when a storm bursts out in a country,
it leaves off afterwards and disperses of itself; and so it will be with
these English/* The sufferings and reverses of the EngUsh armies
on this expedition were such, that, of 30,000 horses which the
English hiid landed at Calais, *' they could not muster more than
ftJOO at Bordeaux, and had lost full a third of their men and more.
There were seen noble knights who bad great possessions in their
own country toiling along a-foot, without armour, and begging their
bread from door to door without getting any/' In vain did
Edward III, treat with the duke of Brittany and the king of
Navarre in order to have theu' support in this war. The duke ol
Brittany, John IV,, after having openly defied the king of France
his Buzerain, was obliged to fly to England, and the king of Navarre
218
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXI
entered upon negotiations alternately with Edward III, and Charles
v., being always ready to betray either, according to what suited
his interests at the moment. Tired of so many ineffectual efforts,
Edward III, was twice obliged, between 1375 and 1377, to conclude
with Charles V. a truce just to give the two peoples, as well as the
two kings, breathing- time ; but the truces were as vain as the petty
combats for the purpose of putting an end to this great struggle.
The great actors in this historical drama did not know how
near were the days when tliey would be called away from t
arena still so crowded with their exploits or their reverses. A fe'
weeks after the massacre of Limoges the prince of Wales lo
at Bordeaux, his eldest son, six years old, whom he loved with all
the tenderness of a veteran warrior, so much the more affected
gentle impressions as they were a rarity to him ; and he was hi
self so ill that '' his doctors advised him to return to England, A
own laiul^ saying that he would probably get better health there.**
Accordingly he left France, which he would never see again, and, on
returning to England, he, after a few months' rest in the country,
took an active part in parliament in the home-poUey of his country,
and supported the opposition agavinst the government of his father,
who, since the death of the Queen, Pbilippa of Hainault, had b
ti'e^iting Englatid to the spectacle of a scandalous old age closing
life of glory. Parliamentary contests soon exhausted the remaining
strength of the Black Prince, and he died on the 8th of June, 1376,
in possession of a popularity that never shifted and was deservaflM
by such quahties as showed a nature great indeed and generous^
though often suUied by the fits of passion of a character harsh even
to ferocity. *■ The good fortune of England,'* says his contemjio-
rary Walsingham, *^ seemed bound up with his person, for it
flourished when he was wellj fell off when ho was ill, and vanished
at Ills death. As long as he was on the spot the English feared
neither the foe's invasion nor the meeting on the battle-field ; but
with him died all their hopes*" A year after him, on the 21st of
June, 1377j died his father, Edward III* » a king who had been able,
glorious, and fortunata for nearly half a century, but had fallen
towards the end of his life into contempt with his people and into
forgetfuluess on the continent of Europe, where nothing was lieard
Cffip.XXIL] TEE HUNDRED YEAHS' WAE, 210
about him beyond whispers of an indolent old man's indulgent
weaknesses to please a covetous mistress.
\fliilst England thus lost her two gi^eat chiefs, France still kept
bra. For three years longer Charles V. and Da Guesclin remained
at the head of her government and her armies. The truce between
the two kingdoms was still in force when the prince of Wales died,
and Charles J ever careful to practise knightly courtesy, had a
solemn funeral service performed for him in the 8ainte-Chapelle ;
but the following year, at the death of Edward III., the truce had
eipired. The prince of Wales' young son, Richard II., succeeded
his grandfather, and Charles, on the accession of a king who was a
raiaor, was anxious to reap all the advantage he could hope from
that fact. The war was pushed forward vigorously, and a French
fleet cruised on the coast of England, ravaged the Isle of Wight,
and burnt Yarmouth, Dartmouth, Plymouth, Winchelsea, and
Lewes* What Charles passionately desired was the recovery of
Oakid; he would have made considerable sacrifices to obtain it,
and in the seclusion of his closet he displayed an intelligent activity
m his efforts, by war or diplomacy, to attain this end. " He had,"
says Froissart, " couriers going a-liorseback night and day, who,
from one day to the next, brought him news from eighty or a
hundred leagues* distance, by help of relays posted from town to
town," This labour of the king had no success ; on the whole the
war prosecuted by Charles V* between Edward III/s death and
ill own had no result of importance ; the attempt, by law and
arms, which he made in 1378, to make Brittany his own and re-
anite it to the crown, completely failed, thanks to the passion with
which the Bretons, nobles, burgesses, and peasants, were attached
^ thmr country's independence, Charles V. actually ran a risk
of embroiling himself with the hero of his reign ; he had ordered
Du Guesclin to reduce to submission the countship of Rennes, his
native land, and he showed some temper because the constable not
cmly did not succeed, but advised him to make peace with the duke
of Brittany and his party. Du Guesclin, grievously hurt, sent to
the king his sword of constable, adding that he was about to
draw to the court of Castile, to Henry of Transtamare, who
would show more appreciation of his services. All Charles V/i
S20
fflSTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. X:3
wisdom did not preserye liim from one of those deeds of haugl
levity which the handling of sovereign power sometimes causes ei
the wisest kings to commit, but reflection made him pitimptly
acknowledge and retrieve his fault. He charged the dukes of
Anjou and Bourbon to go and, for his sake, conjure Du Guesclin \
remain his constable^ and, though some chroniclers declare tl
Du Guesclin refused, his will, dated the 9th of July, 1380, leads
a contrary belief, for in it he assumes the title of eonetable of
France, and this will preceded the hero's death only by foui' days.
Having fallen sick before Chateauneuf-Randon, a place he was
besieging in the G^vaudau, Du Guesclin expired on the 13th of July,
1380, at sixty-six years of age, and his last words were arf exhorta-
tion to the veteran captains around him " never to forget that, in
whatsoever country they might be making war, churchmen, women,
children, and the poor people were not their enemies." According to
certain contemporary chronicles, or, one might almost say, legends,
Chateauneuf-Randon was to be given up the day after Du Guesclin
died» The marshal de Sancerre, who commanded the king*s army,
summoned the governor to surrender the place to him j but the
governor replied that he had given his word to Du Guesclin, and
would surrender to no other. He was told of the constab!e*8
death: ** Very well,'* he rejoined, '*! will carry the keys of the
town to his tomb/* To this the marshal agreed; the governor
marched out of the place at the head of his garrison* passed
through the besieging army, went and knelt down before Du
Guesclin's corpse, and actually laid the keys of Chateauneuf-
Randon on his bier.
This dramatic story is not sufficiently supported by au then tie
documents to be admitted as an historical fact ; but there is to be
found in an old chronicle concerning Du GuescHn [published for
the first time at the end of the fifteenth century, and in a new
edition byM, Francisque Michel in 1830] a story which, in spite of
many discrepancies, confirms the principal fact of the keys of Cha-
teauneuf'Randon being brought by the gannson to the bier. "At
the decease of sir Bertrand," says the chronicler, ** a great cry arose
throughout the host of the French, The English refused to giv©
up the castle. The marshal, Louis do Sancerre, had the hostages
CfiP-XXII.] THE HUNDRED YEARS^ WAR
221
bronght to the ditches, for to have tlieir heads struck off. But forth*
witJi the people in the castle lowered their bridge, and the captain
came and offered the keys to the marshal, who refused them, and said
to him, * Friends J you have your agreements with sir Bertrand, and ye
ihall fulfil them to him.* ' God the Lord ! ' said the captain, ' you
how well that sir Bertrand, who was so much worth, is dead :
how, then, should we surrender to him this castle ? Verily, lord
marshal, you do demand our dishonour when you would have us
and our castle surrendered to a dead knight/ * Needs no parley
hereupon,' said the marshal, ' but do it at once, for, if you put forth
more words, short will be the life of your hostages/ Well did the
ETiglish see that it could not be otherwise j so they went forth all
of them from the castle, their captain in front of them, and came to
the mai'shal, who led them to the hostel where lay su' Bertrand,
and made them give up the keys and place them on his bier,
sobbing the while : * Let all know that there was there nor knight
nor squire, French or English, who showed not great mourning.' "
The body of Du Guescliu was carried to Paris to be interred at
8t* Denis, hard by the tomb which Charles V. had ordered to be
made for himself; an<i nine years afterwards, in 1389, Charles V.*8
saccessor, his son- Charles VI,, caused to be celebrated in the
Breton warrior's honour a fresh funeral, at which the princes and
grandees of the kingdom, and the young king himself, were pre-
sent in skito. The bishop of Auxerre delivered the funeral oration
orerthe constable; and a poet of the time, giving an account of
the ceremony, says, — ^
" Tbe tears of pritioea fell^
Wbat time tlie bisho|i saiJ,
* Sir Bertmnd loved 7© well.
Weep, warriors, for the doftd !
Tbc knell of sorrow tolls
For deeds tlmt were so bright ;
God save all Chrmtian boiiIb,
And his — the gallant kniglit ! *"
The Ufe, character, and name of Bertrand du Guesclin were and
remained one of the most popular, patriotic, and legitimate boasts
of the middle ages, then at their decline.
222
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[CHAf. XXIL
Two months after the constable's death, on the 16th of Septem-
ber, 1380^ Charles V, died at the castle of Beaute-siir-Miiriie^ near
VincenneSj at forty-three years of age, quite young still aft^T so
stormy and hard-working a life. His contemporaries were con-
vinced, and he was himself convinced, that he had been poisone*!
by his perfidious enemy, King Charles of Navarre. His tincle,
Charles IV., emperor of Germany, had sent him an able doctor, who
" set him in good case and in manly strength," says Froi^^art, by
effecting a permanent issue in his arm. " When this* little son*,**
said he to him, *' shall cease to discharge and shall dry up, you
will die without help for it, and you will have at the most fi i
days' leisure to take counsel and thought for the souL" WTien tie
issue began to dry np, Charles knew that death was at hand ; and
" like a wise and valiant man as he was," says Froissart, *' ho mi
in order all his affairs, and sent for his three brothers, in whom
had most confidence, the duke of Berry, the duke of Burgiuidjj
and the duke of Bourbon, and he left in the lurch his
brother, the duke of Anjou, because he considered him too cove
ous. * My dear brothers/ said the king to them, ' I feel and kno^
full well that I have not long to live. I do commend and give in
cliarge to you my son Charles. Behave to him as good ijnf*lr^N
should behave to their nephew. Grown him as soon as po.s
after my death, and counsel him loyally in all his affjiirs. The lad
is young, and of a volatile spirit; he will need to be guided and
governed by good doctrine; teaeh him or have him taught all thi>
kingly points and states he will have to maintain, and marry
in such lofty station that the kingdom may be the better for
Thank God, the affairs of our kingdom are in good case.
duke of Brittany [John IV., called the Valiant] is a crafty audi
slippery man, and he hath ever been more English than Fr^ncl
for which reason keep the nobles of Brittany and the good toi
affectionate, and you will tlius thwart his intentions, I am foi
of the Bretons, for they have ever served me loyally, and helped
to keep and defend my kingdom against my enemies- Make the
lord Clisson constable, for, all considered, I see none more cot
petent for it than he. As to those aids and taxes of the kingdom
of France, wherewith the poorer folks are so btirthened and
CmXXn.] THE HUNDRED YEAES' WAR.
225
aggrieved, deal with them according to yoor conscience, and take
tliem off as soon as ever you can, for they are things which,
although I have upheld them, do grieve me and weigh upon my
iimrt; but the great wars and great matters which we have had
on all sides caused me to countenance them."
Of all the dying speeches and confessions of kings to their family
and their councillors^ that wliich has Just been put forward is the
most practical, precise, and simple, Charles V., taking upon his
alioalders at nineteen years of age, first as king's lieutenant and as
dauphin and afterwards as regent> the government of France,
employed all his soul and his life in repairing the disasters arising
from the wars of his predecessors and preventing any repetition.
No sovereign was ever more resolutely pacific ; he carried prudence
even into the very practice of war, as was proved by his forbidding
ilia generals to venture any general engagement with the English,
80 great a lesson and so deep an impression had he derived from
the defeats of Crecy and Poitiers, and the causes which led to
them. But without being a warrior, and without running any
hazardous risks, he made himself respected and feared by his
,eaemies* ** Never was there king," said Edward III., ''who
andled arms less, and never was there king who gave me so
Mich to do/* When the condition of the kingdom was at the
befit, and more favourable circumstances led Charles to beheve
tEat the day had come for setting France free from the cruel con-
ations which had been imposed upon her by the treaty of Br^tigny,
he entered without hesitation upon that war of patriotic reparation ;
and, after the death of his two powerful enemies, Edward IIL and
tie Blach Prince, he was still prosecuting it, not without chance of
nioeess, when he himself died of the malady with which he had for
ikog while been afflicted. At his death he left in the royal trea-
tnry a surplus of seventeen nuUion francs, a large sum for those
days. Nor the labours of government, nor the expenses of war,
fior farsighted economy had prevented him from showing a serious
interest in learned works and studies, and from giving effectual
protection to the men who devoted themselves thereto. The uni.
versity of Paris, notwithstanding the embarrassments it sometimes
^used him, was
TOf. II.
the object of his good-will. " He was a
UISTOilY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIE
I
greai lover of wisdom," says Christine de Pisan, *' and wlien c^
tain folks ujurmured for that he honoured clerks so liighly, he
answered, * So long as wisdom is honoured in this realm, it will
continue in prosperity ; but when wisdom is thrust aside, it will
go down/ '^ He collected nine hundred and fifty volumes (the first
foundation of the Royal Library), which were deposited in a tower
of the Louvre J called the Ubrarif tower ^ and of which he, in 1373,
had an inventory drawn up by his personal attendant, Gilles de
Presle, His taste for literature and science was not confined to
collecting manuscripts. He had a French translation made, for
the sake of spreading a knowledge thereof, of the Bible in the first
place, and then of several works of Aristotle, of Livy, of Valerius
Maximus, of Vegetius, and of St. Augustine, He was fond of
industry and the arts as well as of literature, Henry de Vic, a
German clock maker, constructed for him the first public clock
ever seen in France, and it was placed in what was called the Clock
Tower in the Palace of Justice ; and the king even had a clock-
maker by appointment, named Peter de St. B^athe. Several of the
Paris monuments, churches, or buildings for public use were
undertaken or completed under his care. He began the building
of the Bastille, that fortress which was then so necessaiy for the
safety of Paris, where it was to be, four centuries later, the object
of the wrath and earliest excesses on the part of the populaDer
Charles the Wise, from whatever point of view he may be regarded,
is, after Louis the Fat, Philip Augustus, St. Louis, and Philip the
Handsome, the fifth of those kings who powerfiiUy contributed to
the settlement of France in Europe, and of the kingship in France.
He was not the greatest nor the best, but, perhaps, the most honestly
able. And at the same time he was a signal example of the shallow^
Bess and insufficiency ojF human abilities, Charles V*, on his death-
bed, considerad that ** the affairs of his kingdom were in good case ;"
he had not even a suspicion of that chaos of war, anarchy, reverses
and ruin into which they were about to fall, in the reign of his son,
Charles VL
TtlE HUNDRED YEAHS' WAR-CHARLES TI. AND THE DUKES OF
BURGUNDY.
j ULLY, in his Memoirs^ characterizes the reign of Charles
VI. as " that reign so pregnant of sinister events, the
grave of good laws and good morals in France/' There
is no exaggeration in these words ; the sixteenth century with its
SL Baiiholomew and T}t£ Leagiiey the eighteenth with its reign of
terror^ and the nineteenth with its Gommuue of Paris contain
ficarcely any events so sinister as those of which France was, in
themgn of Charles VI., from_1380 to 1422, the theatre and the
?ictim.
Scarcely was Charles V. laid on his bier when it was seen what
a loss he was and would be to his kingdom. Discord arose in the
king's own family. In order to shorten the ever critical period
of minority, Charles V. had fixed the king's majority at the age
of fourteen. His son, Charles VI., was not yet twelve, and bo had
two years to remain under the guardianship of his four uncles, the
dokes of Anjou, Berry, Burgundy, and Bourbon ; but the last being
Ottly a maternal uncle and a less puissant prince than his paternal
U 2
228
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap- XXIU-
uncles, it was between the otter tliree that strife began for
temporary possession of the kingly power* Thougli very unequal
in talent and in force of character, they were all three ambitious
and jealous. The eldest, the duke of Anjou, who was energetic,
despotic, and stubbomj aspired to dominion in France for the sake
of making French influence subserve the conquest of the kingdom
of Naples, the object of his ambition. The duke of Berry was a
mediocrej restless, prodigal, and grasping prince. The duke of
Burgundy j Philip the Bold, the most able and the most powerful of
the three, had been the favourite, first of his father, King John, and
then of his brother, Charles Y., who had confidence in him and
readily adopted his counsels. His marriage, in 1369, with the
heiress to the countship of Flanders, had been vigorously opposed
by the count of Flanders, the young princess's father, and by the
Flemish communes, ever more friendly to England than to France;
but the old countess of Flanders, Marguerite of France, vexed at
the ill will of the count her son, bad one day said to him, as she
tore open her dress before his eyes, ** Since you will not yield to
your mother's wishes, I will cut off these breasts which gave suck
to you, to you and to no other, and will tlirow tliem to the dogs to
devoui'/' This singular argument had moved the count of Flanders;
he had consented to the marriage ; and the duke of Burgundy*«
power had received such increment by it that on the 4th of October,
1380, when Charles VI, was crowned at Rheims, PhiMp the Bold,
without a word said previously to any, suddenly went up and sat
himself down at the young king's side, above his eldest brother,
the duke of Anjou, thus assuming, without any body's daring to
oppose him, the rank and the rights of premier peer of France.
He was not slow to demonstrate that his superiority in externals
could not fail to establish his political preponderance. His father^
in-law. Count Louis of Flanders, was in almost continual strife
with the great Flemish communes, ever on the point of rising
against the taxes he heaped upon them and the blows he struck
at their privileges. The city of Ghent, in particular, joined com-
plaint with menace. In 1381 the quarrel became war. The
Ghentese at first experienced reverses, " Ah I if James van Arte*
velde were alive !'* said they, James van Artevelde had left a son
f
named Philip ; and there was in Ghent a burghar-captainj Peter
DnboiSj who went one evening to see PhiUp van Artevelde* "What
we want now/* said he, " is to choose a captain of great renown,
Raisa up again in this countiy that father of yours who, in his life-
time, was 80 loved and feared in Flanders/* ** Peter," replied
Philip^ " you make me a great offer ; I promise that, if you put ma
in that place, I will do naught without your advice." " Ah! well!"
said Dubois, **can you really be haughty and cruel ? The Flemings
like to be treated so ; with them you must make no more account
of the life of men than you do of larks when the season for eating
them comes." ** I will do what shall be necessary," said Van
Arteveldo, The struggle grew violent between the count and the
communes of Flanders with Ghent at their head. After alterna-
tioos of successes and reverses the Ghentese were victorious ;
and Count Louis with difficulty escaped by hiding himself at
Bruges in the house of a poor woman who took him up into a
loft where her children slept, and where he lay flat between the
palliasse and the feather-bed. On leaving this asylum he went to
Bapaume to see his son-in-law, the duke of Burgundy, and to ask
tisaid. *' My lord," said the duke to him, ** by the allegiance I owe
to you and also to the king you shall have satisfaction • It were to
feil in one's duty to allow such a scum to govern a country.
Uidess order were restored, aU knighthood and lordship might be
destroyed in Christendom." The duke of Burgundy went to Senlis,
where Charles VI, was, and asked for his support on behalf of the
cotuit of Flanders. The question was referred to the king's council,
The duke of Berry hesitated, saying, **The best part of the prelates
and nobles must be assembled and the whole matter set before
them; we wiU see what is the general opinion." In the midst of
this deliberation the young king came in with a hawk on his wrist*
** Well 1 my dear uncles,** said ho, "of what are you parleying ? Is
it aught that I may know ?" The duke of Beny enlightened him,
saying, " A brewer, named Van Artevelde, who is English to the
core, is besieging the remnant of the knights of Flanders shut up
b Oudenarde ; and they can get no aid but from you, Wliat say
yoa to it? Are you minded to help the count of Flanders to
n^conquer his heritage which those presumptuous villains have
230
HISTORY OP FRANCE.
[Chap. XXUI.
taken from liim ?" ** By my faith," answered tte king, *' I am
greatly minded; go we thither ; there is nothing I desire so much
as to get on my harness, for I have never yet borne arms ; I would
fain set out to-morrow*" Amongst the prelates and lords sum-
moned t€ Compifegne some spoke of the difficulties and dangers
that might be encountered. **YeSj yes/* said the king, "but
* begin naught and win naught,' *' When the Flemings heard of
the king's decision they sent respectful letters to him, begging him
to be their mediator with the count their lord ; but the letters were
received with scoffs and the messengers were kept in prison. At thii
news Van Artevelde said, "We must make alliance with the English;
what meaneth this King Wren of France ? It is the duke of
Burgundy leading him by the nose, and he will not abide by his
purpose; we will frighten Finance by showing her that we have the
EngUsh for allies." But Tan Aitevelde was under a delusion ;
Edward ILL was no longer king of England ; the Flemings'
demand was considered there to be arrogant and opposed to the
intemsts of the lords in all countries ; and the alliance was not
concluded. Some attempts at negotiation took place between the
advisers of Charles VI* and the Flemings but without success. The
count of Flanders repaired to the king, who said, '* Your quarrel is
ours; get you back to Artois ; we shall soon be there and within
sight of our enemies,"
Accordingly, in November, 1382, the king of France and hk
army marched into Flanders. Several towns^ Cassel, Bergues,
Graveliiies, and Turnhout, hastily submitted to him. There was less
complete nuanimity and greater alarm amongst the Flemings than
their chiefs had anticipated. ** Noble king," said the inhabitants,
** we place our persons and our possessions at your discretion, and
to show you that we recognise you as our lawful lord, here are the
captains whom Van Artevelde gave ns ; do with them according to
your will, for it is they who have governed us." On the 28th of
November the two armies found themselves close together at
Rosebecque, between Ypres and Courtrai. In the evening Van
Artevelde assembled his captains at supper, and " Comrades," said
he, ** we shall to-morrow have rough work, for the king of Franoe
is here all agog for fighting. But have no fear; we are defending
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR
OUT good right and the Uberties of Flanders. The English have
not helped us; well, we shall only have the more honour. Witli
the fciBg of France is all the flower of his kingdom. Tell your men
to slay all and sliow no quarter. We must spare the king of
nee only ; he is a child, and must be pardoned ; we will take
him away to Ghent, and have him taught Flemish. As for the
dukes, counts^ barons, and other men-at-arms, slay them all ; the
bpommons of France will not bear us ill will ; I am quite sure that
Hftiey would not have a single one of them back," At the very same
^ttioment Ring Charles VL was entertaining at supper the princes his
uncles, the count of Flanders, the constable, Oliver de Clisson, the
loarshals, Ac. They were arranging the order of battle for the
morrow. Many folks blamed the duke of Burgundy for having
brought so young a king, the hope of the realm, into the perils of
war* It was resolved to confide the care of him to the constable de
[Clisson, whilst conferring upon sire de Coucy, for that day only,
e command of the army. "Most dear lord," said the constable to
lie khig, " I know that there is no greater honour than to have the
care of your person, but it would be great grief to my comrades
not to have me Yfith them, I say not that they could not do
without me • but for a fortnight now I have been getting every
tiling ready for bringing most honour to you and yours. They
would be much surprised if I should now withdraw." The king
wag somewhat embarrassed- ** Constable," said he^ ** I would fain
have you in my company to-day ; you know well that my lord my
hther loved you and trusted you more than any other; in the
narae of God and SL Denis do whatever you think best. You^
have a clearer insight into the paatter than I and those who have
aiiriaed me. Only attend my mass to-morrow/' The battle began
irith spirit the next morning, in the raidst of a thick fog. According
to the monk of St, Denis, Van Artevelde was not without dis-
quietude. He had bidden one of his people go and observe the
French army ; and " You bring me bad news,'* said he to the man
in a whisper, ** when you tell me there are so many French with
tlie king : I was far from expecting it. < . . This is a hard war :
it requires discreet management. I think the best thing for me is
to gp and hurry up ten thousand of our comrades who are due/'
Hill
mSTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XXin*.
•• Why liHivo thy host without a head?" said they who were about "
hiiii : •' it' vviiH to obi\v thy orders that wo engaged in this enter*
(m*iiim; thuu nms*t nui the risks of battle with us/* The French
Wi*»\' moiv tH>nttdcut than Van Artevelde. ** Sir,'* said the con-
iUibK\ Hildtv.^'ung tli# Ufigt cap ^^ hand, '* be of good cheer ; theae
IWii»vn» im> ourfi; our reiy ^wriets miglit beat them." These
wtvnU w«K br too pnsoiniitiioiis; for the Flen^ungs fought with^
ftrc^t brawrj^ Cmm up in a compM^ hoAj^ they drove back for
m it^miMiA lfei# Vkmiidi wtio wmv opposed to them ; but Clisson had
ui9i%W^ ^TfVT Ukiog^ mdy for bemmiBg theia in ; attacked on all
«tiiii||N» lli^y tri^l* biit in ¥am, to fly ; a few, with difficulty^ sue-
ii^^fal (n TOCXfililg fuid casting, as they went, into the neighbouring
%WMM t^ banner of St* George. *^It is not easy,'' says timM
l^^xHk of Si* Denis, ** to set down with any certAinty the number
^ Ikt Asmd ; those who were present on this day, and I am dis-
j0$^ to follow their account, say tliat twenty-five thousand Flem-
tmfn ft41 on the field, together with their leader, Van Artevelde,
th^ wncoctor of this rebellion, whose corpse, discorer^d with great
trouble amongst a heap of slain, was, by order of Charles VI-, hung
ii|iini a tree in the neighbourhood. The French also lost in this
Mtruggle BO me noble knights, not less illustrious by birth than
viiUnir, amongst others forty-four vahant men who, being the first
IjO hurl themselves upon the ranks of the enemy to break them,
thus won for themselves great glory."
The victory of Rosebecque was a great cause for satisfaction
find pride to Charles VI, and his uncle, the duke of Burgundy.
^They had conquered on the field in Flanders the commonalty of P^^
as well as that of Ghent ; and in France there was great need of such
a success, for, since the accession of the young king, the Parisians
had risen with a demand for actual abolition of the taxes of which
Charles V,, on his death-bed, had deplored the necessity, and all
but decreed the cessation. The king's uncles, his guardians, had
at first stopped and indeed suppressed the greater part of those
taxes, but soon afterwards they had to face a pressing necessity :
the war with England was going on, and the revenues of the royal
domain wore not sufficient for the maintenance of it. The duke of
Anjou attempt-ed to renew the taxes, and one of Charlea V/a
CeAP,XXin-] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR.
238
former councillors, John Desmarets, advocate- general in parlia'
mentj abetted him in Ins attempt. Seven times> in the course of
the year 1381, asseinblies of notables met at Paris to consider the
project, and on the 1st of March, 1382, an agent of the governing
power scoured the city at full gallop, proclaiming the renewal of
the principal tax. There was a fresh outbreak. The populace
armed with all sorts of weapons, with strong mallets amongst the
rest, spread in all directions, killing the collectors^ and storming
and plundering the Hotel de Ville. They were called the MaUeteers.
They were put down, but with as much timidity as cruelty. Some
of them were arrested, and at night thrown into the Seine, sewn
up in sacks, without other formality or trial, A fresh meeting of
iiotables was convened, towards the middle of April, at Compi^gne,
and the deputies from the principal towns were summoned to it ;
bat they durst not come to any decision : " They were come,*' they
said, " only to hear and report ; they would use their best endea-
vours to prevail on those by whom they had been sent to do the
king's pleasure.'* Towards the end of April some of them returned
to Meaux, reporting that they had every where met with the moat
lively resistance ; they had every where heard shouted at them,
" Sooner death than the tax." Only the deputies from Sens had
voted a tax, which was to be levied upon all merchandise ; but,
when the question of collecting it arose, the people of Sens evinced
such violent opposition that it had to be given up. It was when
facts and feelings were in this condition in France that Charles VI»
and the duke of Burgundy had set out with their army to go and
force the Flemish communes to submit to their count.
Betuming victorious from Flanders to France, Charles VI, and
his uncles, every where brilUantly feasted on their march^ went
first of all for nine days to Oompifegne " to fixid recreation after
their fatigues," says the monk of St, Denis, "in the pleasures of
the chase ; afterwards, on the 10th of January, 1383, the king took
back in state to the church of St, Denis the oriflamme which he
had borne away on his expedition; and next day, the 11th of
January, he re-entered Paris, he alone being moimted, in the midst
of his army," The burgesses went out of the city to meet him and
offer him their wonted homage, but they were curtly ordered to
234
HISTORY OP PRANCE.
[Chap. XXIIL
retrace their steps ; the king and his uncles, they were informed,
could not forget offences so recent. Tlio wooden barriers whicl
had been placed before tlio gates of the city to prevent any bodi
from entering without permission, were cut down with battle-axes j
the very gates were torn from their hinges ; they were throi
down upon the king's highway, and the procession went ovi
them, as if to trample under foot the fierce pride of the Parisiani
Wlien he was once in the city, and was leaving Notre Dam€
the king sent abroad throughout all the streets an order for
bidding any one^ under the most severe penalties, from insuliinj
or causing the least harm to the burgesses in any way whatsoever S
and the constable had two phinderera strung up to the windows o|
the houses in which they had committed their thefts. But fundi
mental order having been thus upheld, reprisals began to be taket
for the outbreaks of the Parisian s, municipal magistrates or papal
burgesses or artisans, rich or poor, in the course of the two pr
ceding years; arrests, imprisonraentSj fines, confiscations, e?
tions, severities of all kinds fell upon the most conspicuous and
most formidable of those who had headed or favoured popi
movements. The most solemn and most iniquitous of the
punishments was that which befell the advocate-geueral, Jobl
Desmarets. ** For nearly a whole year/' $ays the monk of St
Denisj " he had served as mediator between the king and
Parisians ; lie had often restrained the fury and stopped
excesses of the populace, by preventing them from giving reil
to their cruelty. Ho was always warning the factious that
provoke the wrath of the king and the princes was to ex|
themselves to almost certain death. But, yielding bo the pray era
of this rebellious and turbulent mob, he, instead of leaving Pa
as the rest of his profeseion bad done, had remained there,
throwing himself boldly amidst the storms of civil discord, he had
advised the assumption of arms and the defence of the city, which
he knew was very displeasing to the king and the grandees/' When
he was taken to execution, ^*he was put on a e^ir higher than thai
rest, that he might be better seen by every body*" Nothing shook
for a moment the firmness of this old man of seventy years*]
** Where are they who judged me ?" he said : "let them come and
Cflip, XXin.] THE HUNDEED TEABS* WAR.
set forth the reasons for my death. Judge me, 0 God, and sepa-
rate my cause from that of the evil-doers/' On his arrival at the
inarket-plaoe some of the spectators called oat to himj ** Aak the
idng'a mercy, master John, that he may pardon your offenoea**'
Ha turned round, saying, **I served well and loyally his great*
grandfather King Philip, his grandfather King John, and hia
father King Charles ; none of those kings ever had any thing to
reproach me with, and this one would not reproach me any the
more if he were of a grown man's age and experience. 1 don't
suppose that he is a whit to blame for such a sentence, and I have
DO cause to cry him mercy. To God alone must I cry for mercy,
and I pray Him to forgive my sins." Public respect accompanied
the old and courageous magistrate beyond the scaffold ; his corpse
was taken up by his friends, and at a later period honourably
btiried in the church of St. Catherine.
After the chastisements came galas again, of which the king and
Ms court were immoderately fond. Young as he was (he was but
seventeen), his powerful uncle the duke of Burgimdy was very
aaxious to get him married so as to secure his own personal in-
iuence over him. The wise Charles V-, in his dying hours, had
Ratified a desire that his son should seek alliances in Germany. A
lOE of the reigning duke, Stephen of Bavaria, had come to serve in
the French army, and the duke of Burgundy had asked him if
there were any marriageable princess of Bavaria. ** My eldest
brother^" answered the Bavarian, ** has a very beautiful daughter
ag^ fourteen/^ "That is just what we want," said the Burgun^
diaB: "try and get her over here; the king is very fond of
beautiful girls ; if she takes his fancy, she will be queen of France.**
The duke of Bavaria, being informed by his brother j at first showed
Bome hesitation. ** It would be a great honour," said he, ** for my
daughter to be queen of France ; but it is a long way from here.
If my daughter were taken to France and then sent back to me,
because she was not suitable, it would cause mo too much cliagrin.
I prefer to marry her at my leisure and in my own neighbourhood/*
The matter was pressed, however, and at last the duke of Bavaria
consented. It was agreed that the Princess Isabel should go on a
visit to the duchess of Brabant, who instructed her and had her
23S
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Ceap,
well dressed, say the chroniclers, for in Germany they clad
selves too simply for the fashions of France, Being thus got ready
the Princess Isabel was conducted to Amiens, where the king ther
was, to whom her portrait had already been shovm. She wa;,
presented to him and bent the knee before him. He consider©^
her charming. Seeing with what pleasure he looked upon her t\^
constablcj Oliver de Clisson, said to sire de Coucj, " By my fair-f
she will bide with us." The same evening the young king said i
bis councillor, Bureau de la Riviere, " She pleases me : go and tea
my uncle the duke of Burgundy to conclude at once/* The dulte
delighted, lost no time in informing the ladies of the court, 'whm
cried ** Noel V* for joy. The duke had wished the nuptials to tak^
place at Arras ; but the young king in his impatience was urgenll
for Amiens, without delay, saying that he couldn't eleep for her*^
*' Well, well," replied his uncle, '* you must be cured of your com-
plaint/' On the 18th of July, 1385, the man^iage was celebrated
at the cathedral of Amiens, whither the Princess Isabel '* was
conducted in a handsome chariot, whereof the tires of the wheels
were of silvern stuff/' King, uncles, and courtiers were far from a
thought of the crimes and shame w^hich would bo connected in
France with the name of Isabel of Bavaria. There is still more
levity and imprudence in the marriages of kings than in those of
their subjects. ^M
Whilst this marriage was being celebrated, the war with England
and her new king Richard II. was going on, but slackly and with-
out result. Charles VL and his uncle of Burgundy, still full of the
proud confidence inspired by their success against the Flemish and
Parisian communes, resolved to strike England a heavy blow and
to go and land there w^ith a powerful army, Inunense preparaiions
were made in France for this expedition. In September, 1386,
there were collected in the port of Ecluse (Sluys) and at iea,
between Sluys and Blankenberg, thirteen hundred and eighty-seven
\'e8sels, according to some, and according to others only nine
hundred, large and small ; and Oliver de Clisson had caused to be
built at Triguier, in Brittany, a wooden tow^n which was to.be trans-
ported to England and rebuilt after landing, ** in such sort," says
Froissart, " that the lords might lodge therein and retire at night,
'tt^.XXmO THE HUNDRED YEAES' WAR,
239
► as to be m safety from sudden awakenings ^ and sleep in greater
*oourity.*' Equal care was taken in the matter of supplies* "Who-
pv^er had been at that time at Bruges, or the Dam, or the Sluys
p^ould have seen how ships and vessels were being laden by torch-
feg-ht, wifcfe hay in casks, biscuits in sacks, onions, pease, beans,
pa.rley, oats, candles, gaiters, shoes, boots, spurs, iron, nails,
*iilinary utensils, and all things that can be used for the service of
loan*" Search was made every where for the various supplies
od they were very dear, *' If you want us and our service," said
the Hollanders, "pay us on the nail ; otherwise we wiU be neutral."
To the intelligent foresight shown in these preparations was added
useless maguificence, '' On the masts was nothing to be seen but
paintings and gildings ; every thing was emblazoned and covered
with armorial bearings ; bnt nothing came up to the duke of
Burgundy's ship, it was painted all over outside with blue and
gold, and there were five huge banners with the arms of the duchy
of Burgundy and the countships of Flanders, Artois, R^thel, and
Burgundy, and every where the duke's device, * I'm a-longing.' "
The young king too displayed great anxiety to enter on the
campaign. He liked to go aboard his ship, saying, ** I am very
eager to be off ; I think I shall be a good sailor, for the sea does
me no harm." But every body was not so impatient as the king,
who was waiting for his uncle, the duke of Berry, and writing to
Mm letter after letter, urging him to come. The duke, who had
lio liking for the expedition, contented himself with making an
answer bidding him " not to take any trouble, but to amuse himself,
for the matter would probably terminate otherwise than was
imagined." The duke of Berry at last arrived at Sluys on the I4th
t)f October, 1386. ''If it hadn't been for you, uncle," said the
fang to him, " we should have been by this time in England/'
Tluw months had gone by; the fine season was past; the winds
were becoming violent and contrary ; the vessels come from
Treguier with the constable to join the fleet had suffered much on
As passage ; and deHberations were recommencing touching the
(Opportuneness and even the feasibility of the expedition thus
throwTi back. ** If any body goes to England, I will," said the
kiiig. But nobody went. *' One day when it was calm," says
tio
HISTORY OF FKANCE.
[CB:4ff. xxm.
the monk of St Denis, " the king, completely anned, went with
his uncles aboard of the royal vessel ; but the wind did not permit
them to get more than two miles out to sea, and droTe them back,
in spite of the sailors* efforts, to the shore they had just left. The
king who saw with deep displeasure his hopes tbu3 frustrated, had
orders given to his troops to go back and, at his departure, left, by
the advice of his barons, some men of war to unload the fleet and
place it in a place of safety as soon as possible. But the enemy
gave them no time to execute the order. As soon as the calm
allowed the EngHsh to set sail they bore down on the French,
burnt or took in tow to their own ports the most part of the fleet,
carried off the supplies, and found two thousand casks full of
wine, which sufliced a long while for the wants of England/*
Such a mistake, after such a fuss, was probably not unconnected
with a resolution adopted by Charles VI. some time after
the abandonment of the projected expedition against England.
In October, 1388, he assembled at Bheims a grand council,
at which were present his two uncles, the dukes of Burgundy
and Berry [the third, the duke of Anjou, had died in Italy,
on the 20th of September, 1384, after a vain attempt to conquer
the kingdom of Naples], his brother the duke of Orleans, his
cousins, and several prelates and lords of note. The chancellor
announced thereat that he had been ordered by the king to put in
discussion the question whether it were not expedient that he should
henceforth take the government of his kingdom upon himself. Car-
dinal Ascelin de Montaigu, bishop of Laon, the first to be interrogated
upon this subject, rephed that, in his opinion, the king was quite in
a condition, as well as in a legal position, to take the government
of his kingdom upon himself, and, without naming any body, he
referred to the king^s uncles, and especially to the duke of Bur-
gundy, as being no longer necessary for the government of France.
Nearly all who were present were of the same opinion. The king,
without further waiting, thanked his uncles for the care thay had
taken of liis dominions and of himself, and begged them to con-
tinue their aflection for him, Neither the duke of Burgundy nor
the duke of Berry had calculated upon this resolution ; they sub*
mitted without making any objection, but not without letting a
Cm. xxm.]
HUNDRED YEAES'
little temper leak out. The dxike of Berry even said that he and
kk brother would beg the king to confer with them more matiirely
wi tb subject when he returned to Paris* Hereupon the council
bioke up ; the king's two uncles started for their own dominionB ;
and a few weeks afterwards the cardinal bishop of Laon died of a
short illness. "It was generally beHeyed," says the monk of St,
Denis, ** that he died of poison," At his own dying wish, no
inquiiy was instituted on this subject. The measure adopted in
tb late council was, however, generaUy approved of. The king
WBS popular ; he had a good heart, and courteous and gentle man-
ners; he was faithful to his friends^ and affable to all; and the
people liked to se© him passing along the streets. On taking in
hand the government he recalled to it the former advisers of his
fctlier Charles V,, Bureau de la Rivifcre, Le Mercier de Noviant,
and Le Bdgue de Vilaine, aU men of sense and reputation. The
taxes were diminished ; the city of Paris recovered a portion of
br municipal liberties; there was felicitation for what had been
obtained, and there was hope of more*
Charles VI. was not content with the satisfaction of Paris only,
he wished aU his realm to have cognizance of and to profit by his
mdependence. He determined upon a visit to the centre and
the south of France. Such a trip was to himself and to the princes
lad cities that entertained him a cause of enormous expense-
"When the king stopped any where, there were wanted for his
own table, and for the maintenance of his following^ six oxen,
eighty sheep, thirty calves, seven hundred chickens, two hundred
pigeons, and many other things besides. The expenses for the
king were set down at two hundred and thirty livres a day, without
couuting the presents which the large towns felt bound to make him."
But Charles was himself magnificent even to prodigality, and he
delighted in the magnificence of which he was the object, without
troubling hijnself about their cost to himself. Between 1389
aad 1390, for about six months, he travelled through Burgundy,
the banks of the Rhone, Languedoc, and the small principaUtios
bordering on the Pjrrenees. Everywhere his progress was stopped
for the purpose of presenting to him petitions or expressing wishes
before him. At Nimes and Montpellier, and throughout Languedoc,
VOL* n. B
242
HISTOKY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXIU.
passionate representations were made to bira touching the bad
government of hiB two uncles, the dukes of Anjou and Berry.
" Thej had plundered and ruinedj" he was told, " that beautiful
and rich province ; there w^re five or six talliages a year ; one wa
no sooner over than another began ; they had levied quite three
millions of gold from Villeneuve-d* Avignon to Toulouse," Charles
listened with feeling and promised to have justice done, and his
father's old councillors, who were in liis train, were far from dis-
suading him. The duke of Burgundy, seeing him start with them
in his train, had testified his spite and disquietude to the duke of
Berry, sayings ** Aha 1 there goes the king on a visit to Languedoc,
to hold an inquiry about those who have governed it. For all hisj
council he takes with him only La Rivifere, Le Mercier, Montaigu,
and Le Begue de Vilaiue, What say you to that, my brother?"
*' The king our nephew is young,'* answered the duke of Berry :
'' if he trusts the new councillors he is taking, he will be deceived,
and it will end ill, as you will see. As for the present, we must
support him. The time will come when we will make those coun-
cillors and the king himself rue it. Let them do as they please,
by God : we will return to oxir own dominions. We are none the
less the two greatest in the kingdom, and so long as we are united
none can do aught against us,*'
The future is a blank as well to the anxieties as to the hopes of
men. The king's uncles were on the point of getting back the
power which they believed to be lost to them. On the 13th of
June, 1392, the constable, Oliver de CUsson, was waylaid as he
was returning home after a banquet given by the king at the
hostel of St» Paul, The assassin was Peter de Craon, cousin of
John IV*, duke of Brittany. He believed De Chsson to be dead,
and left him bathed in blood at a baker's door in the street called
Culture-Sain te-Catherine* The king was just going to bed, when
one of his people came and said to him, *'Ah! sir, a great
misfortune has happened in Paris." **What, and to whom?"
said the king, " To your constable, sir, who has just been slain."
"Slain!" cried Charles; "and by whom?" "Nobody knowe;
but it was close by here, in St< Catherine Street." "LightsI
quick I" said the king: "I will go and see him;" and h© get off
CHAP.XXm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 243
without waiting for his following. When he entered the baker's
shop, De Clisson, grievously wounded, was just beginning to
recover his senses. " Ah ! constable," said the king, " and how do
you feel ?" " Very poorly, dear sir." " And who brought you to
this pass ?" " Peter de Craon and his accomplices ; traitorously
and without warning." " Constable," said the king, " never was
any thing so punished or dearly paid for as this shall be ; take
thought for yourself, and have no further care ; it is my affair."
Orders were immediately given to seek out Peter de Craon and
hurry on his trial. He had taken refuge, first in his own castle of
Sabl^, and afterwards with the duke of Brittany, who kept him
concealed and replied to the king's envoys that he did not know
where he was. The king proclaimed his intention of making war
on the duke of Brittany until Peter de Craon should be discovered
and justice done to the constable. Preparations for war were
begun ; and the dukes of Berry and Burgundy received orders to
get ready for it, themselves and their vassals. The former, who
happened to be in Paris at the time of the attack, did not care
to directly oppose the king's project; but he evaded, delayed,
and predicted a serious war. According to Froissart he had been
warned, the morning before the attack, by a simple cleric, of
Peter de Craon's design ; but " It is too late in the day," he had
said, " I do not like to trouble the king to-day ; to-morrow, with-
out fail, we will see to it." He had, however, forgotten or neglected
to speak to his nephew. Neither he nor his brother, the i duke of
Burgundy, there is reason to suppose, were accomplices in the
attack upon De Clisson, but they were not at all sorry for it. It
was to them an incident in the strife begun between themselves,
princes of the blood royal, and those former councillors of Charles
v., and now, again, of Charles VI., whom, with the impertinence
of great lords, they were wont to call the marmosettes. They left
nothing undone to avert the king's anger and to preserve the duke
of Brittany from the war which was threatening him.
Charles VI.'s excitement was very strong, and endured for ever.
He pressed forward eagerly his preparations for war, though
attempts were made to appease him. He was recommended to take
care of himself; for he had been ill, and could scarcely mount his
B 2
246
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XXHI.
a radical mental derangement^ sometimes in abeyance or at lea
for some time alleviated, but bursting out again without appr
ciable reason and aggravated at every fresh explosion, Cliarles
had always had a taste for masquerading. When in 1889
young queen Isabel of Bavaria came to Paris to be married, tl
king, on the morning of her entry, said to his chamberkin, sire
Savoisyj ** Prithee, take a good horse and I will mount behind the
and we will dress so as not to be known and go to see my
come in*" Savoisy did not like it, but the king insisted; and 8^
they went in this guise through the crowd and got many a
from the oflScers' staves when they attempted to approach too D€
the procession. In 1393, a year after his first outbreak of madne
the king, during an entertainment at court, conceived the idea
disguising as savages himself and five of Ms courtiers. They tuul
been sewn up in a linen skin which defined their whole bodies;
and this skin had been covered with a resinous piteh so as to hold
sticking upon it a covering of tow which made them appear hairy
from head to foot. Thus disguised these savages went danci
into the ball-room ; one of those present took up a lighted turclT
and went up to them; and in a moment several of them wc
in flames. It was impossible to get off the fantastic dree
clinging to their bodies. •* Save the king T' shouted one of tbo
poor masquers : but it was not known which was the king. The
duchess de Berry, his aunt, recognized hira, caught hold of
and wrapped him in her robe, saying, ** Do not move ; you see
companions are burning." And thus he was saved amid&t
terror of aU present. When he was conscious of his mad stat
he was horrified ; he asked pardon for the injury he had dot
confessed and received the communion* Later, when he perceivi
his malady returning, he would allude to it with tears in his 0yc
ask to have his hunting-knife taken away, and say to those aboul
him, " If any of you, by I know not what witehcraft, be guilty
my sufierings, I adjure him, in the name of Jckus Christy
torment me no morcj and to put an end to me forthwith without
making me linger so." He conceived a horror of Queen Isabi\
and, without recognizing her, would say when he saw her, ** What
woman is this ? What does she want ? Will she never cease her
Bfie king^s horse by the bridle, cried, ** Go no farther; thou art
^lotrayed [" The nien-at-arms hurried up immediate ly, and striking
tlie bands of tho fellow with the butts of their lances^ made him let
jgo the bridle. As he had the appearance of a poor madman, and
fciothing more, he was allowed to go without any questionings and
Bbe followed the king for nearly half an hour, repeating the same
cry from a distance- The king was much troubled at this sudden
apparition ; and his head, which was very weak, was quite turned
by it. Nevertheless the march was continued. When the forest
had been traversed, they came to a great sandy plain » where the
rays of the sun were more scorching than ever. One of the king's
pages, overcome by the heat, had failen asleep, and the lance he
carried fell against his helmet, and suddenly caused a loud clash of
steel. The king shuddered ; and then he was observed, rising in
his stirrups, to draw his sword, touch his horse with the spur, and
make a dash, crying, * Forward upon these traitors ! They would
deliver me up to the enemy I ' Every one moved hastily aside, but
not before some were wounded ; it is even said that several were
Irilled, among them a bastard of Polignac. The king's brother,
the duke of Orleans j happened to be quite close by, * Fly, my
nephew d'Orleans,* shouted the duke of Burgundy : *my lord is
beside himself* My God 1 let some one try and seize him I * He
im so furious that none durst risk it ; and he was left to gallop
hither and thither, and tire himself in pursuit of first one and then
another. At last, when he was weai'y and bathed in sweat, his
chamberlain, William de Martel, came up behind and threw his
ams about him, He was surrounded, had his sword taken from
him, was lifted from his horeej and laid gently on the ground, and
then his jacket' was unfastened. His brother and his uncles came
up, but his eyes were fixed and recognized nobody, and he did not
utter a word, * We must go back to Le Mans,' said the dukes of
Berry and Burgundy : * here is an end of the trip to Brittany/
On the way they fell in with a waggon drawn by oxen ; in this
tJiey laid the king of France, having bound him for fear of a renewal
of his frenzy, and so took him back| motionless and speechless, to
the town/*
It was not a mere fit of delirious fever ; it was the beginning of
Jkap/XXIH.] the hundred YEAES' WAB- 245
246
HISTOHY OF FRANCE,
[Chap, XXUI,
a radical mental derangement ^ sometimes in abeyance or at least
for some time alleviated, but bursting out again without appre-
ciable reason and aggravated at every fre.sh explosion, Charles VL
had always had a taste for masquerading. When in 1389 fcbe
young queen Isabel of Bavaria came to Paris to be married, tbe
king, on the morning of her entry, said to his chamberlain, sire de
Savoisy, " Pritheej take a good horse and I w411 mount behind tliee ;
and we will dress so as not to be know^n and go to see my wife
come in," Savoisy did not like it, but the king insisted; and so
they went in this guise through the crowd and got many a blow
from the officers' staves when they attempted to approach too near
the procession. In 1393, ayeai* after his first outbreak of madaess,
the king, during an entertainment at court, conceived the idea of
disguising as savages himself and five of his courtiers- Tht-y bad
been sewn up in a linen skin which defined their whole bodies ;
and this skin had been covered with a resinous pit-ch so as to hold
sticking upon it a covering of tow which made them appear hairy
from head to foot. Thus disguised these savages went danciag
into the ball-room ; one of those present took up a lighted torch
and went up to them; and in a moment several of them wt rp
in flames. It was impossible to get off the fantastic dn'>
clinging to their bodies, **Save the king!" shouted one of th'
poor masquers : but it was not known which was the king. The
duchess de Berry, his aunt, recognized him, caught hold of him
and wrapped him in her robe, saying, *' Do not move ; yon see your
companions are burning." And thus he was saved amidst the
terror of all present. Wlien he was conscious of his mad state*
he was horrified j he asked pardon for the injury he had done,
confessed and received the communion. Later, when he perceived
his malady returning, he would allude to it with tears in his eyes,
ask to have his himting-knife taken away, and say to those about
him, '* If any of you, by I know not what witchcraft, be guilty of
mj sufferings, I adjure him, in the name of Jesus Christ* to
torment me no more, and to put an end to me forthwith without
making me finger so/* He conceived a horror of Queen Isabel
and, without recognizing her, would say when he saw her, ** Whi!
woman is this ? What does she want ? Will she never cease
lOfiAP^XXm,] THE HUNDRED YEABS^ WAR,
iTiiportuiiities ? Save me from her perBecution I " At first great care]
-^^^ taken of him* They sent for a skilful doctor from Laon, named
^^iUiam de Harsely, who put him on a regimen from whiclij for some
tdmej good effects were experienced. But the doctor was uncomfort-
able at court ; he preferred going back to his little place at Laon,
wliere he soon afterwards died ; and eleven years later, in 1405, no^fl
body took any more trouble about the king. He was fed like a dog
and allowed to fall ravenously upon his food* For five whole months
he had not a change of clothes. At last some shame was felt for
this neglect and an attempt was made to repair it. It took a
dozen men to overcome the madman's resistance- He was washed,
shaved J and dressed in fresh clothes. He became more composed
and began once more to recognize certain persons, amongst otherSi fl
the former provost of Paris, Juvenal des Ursins, whose visit ap-
t)eared to give him pleasure, and to whom he said, without well
knowing why, " Juvenal, let us not waste our time.*' On his good
days he was sometimes brought in to sit at certain councils at
which there was a discussion about the diminution of taxes and
relief of the people, and he showed symptoms, at intervals, o^
taking an interest in them. A fair young Burgundian, Odette de
Champdivers, was the only one amongst bis many favourites who
was at all successful in soothing him during his violent fits. It
wa3 Duke John the Fearless, wbo had placed her near the king
that she might promote his own influence, and she took advantage
of it to further her own fortunes, which, however, did not hinder
licr from afterwards passing id to the service of Charles VII. again s&fl
the House of Burgundy, For thirty years, from 1392 to 1422, the
L'rowu remained on the head of this poor madman, whilst France
WES a victim to the bloody quarrels of the royal house, to national
dLsmemljerment, to licentiousness in morals, to civil anarchy, and
to foreign conquest.
When, for the first time, in the forest of Le Mans, the dukes of
Berry and Burgundy saw their nephew in this condition their first
feeling was one of sorrow and disquietude. The duke of Burgundy
AspeciaBy, who w^as accessible to generous and sympathetic emo-
tions, cried out with tears^ as he embraced the kingj " My lord
and nephewj comfort me with just one word ! " But the desires
250
HISTORY OF FEANCE.
[Chaf. XXIU.
and the hopes of selfish ambition reappaared befoixs lon^ii more
prominently than these honest effusions of feeUng, ** Ah I" said
the duke of Berry, '* De Clisson, La Riviere, Nuviantj and Vilaine
have been haughty and harsh towarda me; the time has corns
when I shall pay them out in the same coin from the same mint,**
The guardianship of the king was withdrawn from his councillors
and transferred to four chamberlains ehoaen by his uncles. The
two dukes, however, did not immediately lay hands on the govern-
ment of the kingdom; the constable De Chsson and the late
councillors of Charles V. remained in charge of it for some time
longer ; they had given enduring proofs of capacity and fidelity to
the king's service ; and the two dukes did not at first openly
attack them J but laboured strenuously, nevertheless, to destroy
them. The duke of Burgundy one day said to sire de Noviant, *'I
have been overtaken by a very pressing business for which I
require forthwith thirty thousand crowns ; let me have them out
of my lord's treasury; I will restore them at another time/'
Noviant answered respectfully that the council must be spoken to
about it* ** I wish none to know of it/' said the duke. Noviant
persisted. "You will not do rae this favour?" rejoined the duke,
"you shall rue it before long." It was against the constable
that the wrath of the princes was chiefly directed. He was the
most powerful and the richest. One day he went, with a single
squire behind him, to the duke of Burgundy's house ; and ** My
lord," said he, " many knights and squires are persecuting me to
get the money which is owing to them- I know not where to find
it. The chancellor and the treasurer refer me to you. Since it is
you and the duke of Berry who govern, may it please you to give
me an answer," " CUsson," said the duke, **you have no occasion
to trouble yourself about the state of the kingdom ; it will manage
very well without your services. Whence, pray, have you been
able to amass so much money ? My lord, my brother of Berry, and
myself have not so much between us three. Away from my
presence and let me see you no more ! If I had not a respect for
myself, I would have your other eye put out/* CUsson went out,
mounted his horse, returned to his house, set his affairs in order
and departed, with two attendants^ to his strong castle of Montlhery,
Chaf, XXIIL] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR,
251
The two dukes were very sorry that they had not put him under
arrest on the spot. The rupture came to a climax. Of the king's
four other councillors one escaped in time ; two were seized and
thrown into prison ; the fourth, Bureau de la Riviere j was at his
castle of Auneau, near Chartres, honoured and beloved by all his
neighbours. Every body urged him to save himself. " If I were
to fly or hide myself^" said he, '* I should acknowledge myself
guilty of crimes from which I feel myself free. Here^ as elsewhere,
I am at the will of God ; He gave me all I have, and He can take
it away whensoever He pleases. I served King Charles of blessed
memory and also the king his son ; and they recompensed me
kndsomely for my services. I will abide the judgment of the
parliament of Paris touching what I have done according to my
king's commands as to the affairs of the realm/* He was told that
the people sent to look for him were hard by, and was asked,
*^ Shall we open to them?" '*Why not?'' was his reply. He
himself went to meet them and received them with a courtesy
which they returned. He was then removed to Paris, where he
wag shut up with his colleagues in the Louvre,
Their trial before parliament was prosecuted eagerly, especially
in the case of the absent De Clisson, whom a royal decree banished
from the kingdom "as a false and wicked traitor to the crown, and
condemned him to pay a hundred thousand marks of silver, and to
forfeit for ever the office of constable," It is impossible in the
present day to estimate how much legal justice there was in this
decree; but, in any case, it was certainly extreme severity to so
loble and valiant a waiTior who had done so much for the safety
and honour of France, The dukes of Burgundy and Berry and
inany barons of the realm signed the decree ; but the king's brother^
tile duke of Orleans, refused to have any part in it. Against the
other councillors of the king the prosecution was continued, with
fits and starts of determination, but in general with slowness and
UBCertainty. Under the influence of the dukes of Burgundy and
Berry the parliament showed an inclination towards severity ; but
fiiimau de la Rivifere had warm friends, and amongst others, the
young and beautiful duchess of BeiTy, to whose marriage he had
greatly contributed, and John Juvenal des Ursins, provost of the
252
mSTORY OP FRANCE.
[Chap. XXIII.
trsdesmen of Paris^ one of the men towards whom the king and
the populace folt the highest esteem and confidence* The king^
favourably inclined towards the accused by his own bias and the
influence of the duke of Orleans, presented a demand to parliam^it
to have the papers of the procedure brought to him. Parliament
hesitated and postponed a reply; the procedure followed its coiu'se;
and at the end of some months further the king ordered it to be
stopped, and sires de la Riviere and Noviant to be set at hbertf
and to have their leal property restored to them, at the same time
that they lost their personal property and were commanded to
remain for ever at fifteen leagues' distance, at least, from the
court. This was moral equity if not legal justice* The accused
had been able and faithful servants of their king and country.
Their imprisonment bad lasted more than a year. The dukes of
Burgundy and Berry remained in possession of power.
They exercised it for ten years^ from 1392 to 1402, without any
great dispute between themselves, the duke of Burgundy*a inflnence
being predominant, or with the king, who, save certain lucid
intervals, took merely a nominal part in the government* During
this period no event of importance disturbed France internally.
In 1393 the king of England, Richard II., son of the Black Prince,
sought in marriage the daughter of Charles VI., Isabel of France,
only eight years old. In both courts and in both countries there
was a desire for peace. An embassy came in state to demand the
hand of the princess. The ambassadors were presented, and the
earl of Northampton > marshal of England, putting one knee to the
ground before her, said, " Madame, please Grod you shall be our
sovereign lady and queen of England." The young girl, well
tutored, answered, " If it please God and my lord and father that
I should be queen of England, I would be wiUingly, for I have
certainly been told that I should then be a great lady." The
contract was signed on the 9th of March, 1396, with a promim
that, when the princess had accomplished her twelfth year, slie
should be free to assent to or refuse the union ; and ten days after
the marriage, the king's uncles and the EngHsh ambMsadois
mutually signed a truce, which promised — but quite in vain — ^to last
for eight and twenty years.
flAF. XXm.] THE HUNDBED YEAES' WAR.
253
Aboat the same time Sigismund^ king of Hungary, tlireateoed
irith an invasion of his kingdom by the great Turkish Sultan,
Bajazet I., nickoamed Liglthiing (El Dermij^ because of his rapid
conquests, invoked the aid of the Christian kings of the West, and
especially of the king of France. Thereupon there was a fresli
outbreak of those crusades so often renewed since the end of the
thirbeentli century. All the knighthood of France arose for the
d^nee of a Christian king. John, count of Nevers, eldest son of
ibe duke of Burgundy, scarcely eighteen years of age^ said to his
comrades, " K it pleased my two lords , my lord the king and my
lord and father, I would willingly head this army and this venture,
for I have a desire to make myself known." The duke of Bur-
gundy consented and| in person, conducted his son to St, Denis,
but without intending to make him a knight as yet. " He shall
receive the accolade,'* said he, " as a knight of Jesus Christy at the
firgt battle against the infidels/* In April, 1396, an army of new
cnigaders left France and traversed Germany uproariously, every
there displaying its valiant ardour, presumptuous recklessness,
and chivalrouB irregularity. Some months elapsed without any
news ; but, at the beginning of December, there were seen arriving
tu France some poor creatures, half-naked, dying of hunger, cold,
mA wearinesSj and giving deplorable accounts of the destruction
of the French army- The people would not believe them : " They
ought to be thrown into the water,'* they said, ** these scoundrels
wbo propagate such lies." But, on the 25th of December, there
arrived at Paris James de Helly, a knight of Artois, who, booted
and spuiTed, strode into the hostel of St. Paul, threw himself on
tii knees before the king in the midst of the princes, and reported
that he had come straight from Turkey ; that on the 28th of the
pftoeding September the Christian army had been destroyed at the
Wttle of Nicopolis ; that most of the lords had been either slain in
battle or afterwards massacred by the sidtan's order; and that the
coont of Nevers had sent him to the king and to his father the
*liike, to get negotiations entc^red into for his release. There was
uo exaggeration about the knight's story. The battle had been
terrible, the skughter awful. For the latter the French, who were
for a moment victorious, had set a cruel example with their pri-
264
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXHI.
ftonere; and Bajazet had surpassed them in cool ferocity. After
the first explosion of the father's and the people's grief, the ransom
of the prisoners became the topic. It was a large sum^ and rather
difficult to raise ; and, whilst it was being sought for, James de
Helly returned to report as much to Bajazet, and to place himself
onoe more in his power- " Thou art welcome/^ said the sidtan ;
" thou hast loyally kept thy word ; I give thee thy liberty ; thou
canst go whither thou wiliest." Terms of ransom were concluded;
and the sum total was paid through the hands of Bartholomew
Pellegrini^ a Genoese trader. Before the count of Nevers and bis
eomrades set out, Bajazet sent for them, ** John/' said he to the
count through an interpreter, " I know that thou art a great lord
in thy country, and the son of a great lord. Thou art young- It
may bo that thou art abashed and grieved at what hath befallen
thee in thy first essay of knighthood j and that, io retrieve thine
honour, thou wilt collect a powerful army against me. I might,
©re I release thee, bind thee by oath not to take arms against me,
neither thyself nor thy people. But no ; I will not exact this oath
either from them or from thee. When thou hast retximed yonder,
take up arms if it please thee, and come and attack me. Thou wilt
find mo ever ready to receive thee in the open field, thee and thy
men-at-arms. And B^iat I say to thee, 1 say for the sake of all
the Christians thou mayest purpose to bring. I fear them BOt;
1 was born to fight them, and to conquer the world.*' Every
where and at all times human pride, with its blind arrogance, is
the same. Bajazet saw no glimpse of that future when his empire
would be decaying^ and held together only by the interested pro-
tection of Christian powers. After paying dearly for their errors
and their disasters. Count John of Nevers and his comrades in
captivity re-entered France in February, 1398, imA their expedition
to Hungary was but one of the last vain venturtes of chivalry in the
great struggle that commenced in the seventli eentiiry between
Islamry and Christendom*
While this tragic incident was taking place in eastern Europe,
the court of the mad king was Mling a victim to rivalries, intrigiies,
and scandals which, towards the close of this reign, were to be tbe
curse and the shame of France. There had grown up between
CsAp. XXIIL] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR
255
Queen Isabel of Bavaria and Louis, duke of Orleans, brotter of tbe
king, an intimacy which , throughout the city and amongst all
honourable people, shocked even the least strait-laced. It was
undoubtedly through the queen*s influence that Charles VI,, in
1402, suddenly decided upon putting into the hands of the duke
of Orleans the entire government of the realm and the right of
representing him in every thing during the attacks of his malady.
The duke of Burgundy wrote at once about it to the parliament of
Paris, sa}ang, " Take counsel and pains that the interests of the
king and his dominion be not governed as they now are, for, in
good truth, it is a pity and a grief to hear what is told me about
it " The accusation was not grounded solely upon the personal
ill-temper of the duke of Burgundy, His nephew, the duke of
Orleans, was elegant, affable, volatile, good-natured ; he had for his
partisains at court all those who shared his worse than frivolous
tastes and habits ; and his political judgment was no better than
his liabits. No sooner was he invested with power than he abused
it strangely ; he levied upon the clergy as well as the people an
enormous taUiage, and the use he made of the money increased
still further the wrath of the public. An Augustine monk^ named
James Legrand, already celebrated for his writings, had the hardi-
hood to preach even before the court against abuses of power and
licentiousness of morals. The king rose up from bis own place and
went and sat down right opposite the preacher. " Yes, sir,"
continued the monk, " the king your father, during his reign, did
likewise lay taxes upon the people, but with the produce of them
lie built fortresses for the defence of the kingdom, he hurled back
iba enemy and took possession of their towns, and he eflected a
saving of treasure which made him the most powerful amongst the
kingi of the West. But now, there is nothing of this kind done;
tlie height of nobility in the present day is to frequent bagnios, to
lire in debauchery, to wear rich dresses with pretty fringes and
big cuffs. This, 0 queen,*' he added, *4s what is said to the shame
of the court ; and, if you will not believe me, put on the dress of
some poor woman and walk about the city, and you will hear it
talked of by plenty of people." In spite of his malady and his
affection for his brother, Cliarles VI ,, either from pure feebleness
256
HISTORY or FRAJ^CE.
[Chap, XXTU,
or because he was struck by those truths so boldly proclaimed,
yielded to the councils of certain wise men who represented to him
*^ that it was neither a reasonable nor an honourable thing to entrust
the government of the realm to a prince whose youth needed
rather to be governed than to govern/* He withdrew the direction
of affairs from the duke of Orleans and restored it to the duke of
Burgundy, who took it again and held it with a strong grasp, and did
not suffer his nephew Louis to meddle in any thing. But from that
time forward open distrust and hatred were established between
the two princes and their fanulies. In the very midst of this court-
crisis Duke Philip the Bold fell ill and died within a few daysi on the
27th of April, 1404. He was a prince valiant and able, ambitious,
imperious^ eager in the pursuit of his own personal interests> care-
ful in humouring those whom he aspired to rule, and disposed to do
them good service in whatever was not opposed to his own ends.
He deserved and possessed the confidence and affection not only
of his father, King John, but also of his brother, Charles V,, a good
judge of wisdom and fidehty. He founded that great House of
Burgundy which was for more than a century to ecHpse and often
to deplorably compromise France; but Philip the Bold loved
France sincerely, and always gave her the chief place in his poUcy.
His private life was regular and staid amidst the scandalous Kcen-
tiousness of Ms court. He was of those who leave behind them
unfeigned regret and an honoured memory without ha\ing inspired
their contemporaries with any lively sympathy. M
John the Fearless, count of Nevers, his son and successor in tW
dukedom of Burgundy, was not slow to prove that there was
reason to regret his father* His expedition to Hungary, for all its
bad leadership and bad fortune, had created esteem for his courage
and for his firmness under reverses, but little confidence in hi*
direction of pubUc affau's. He was a man of violence, unscrupu*
lous and indiscreet, full of jealousy and hatred, and capable of any
deed and any risk for the gratification of liis passions or his fancies.
At hia accession he made some popular moves ; he appeared dis-
posed to prosecute vigorously the war against England which iras
going on sluggishly ; he testified a certain spirit of conciliation by
going to pay a visit to his cousin, the duke of Orleans, lying ill at
CflAf. XXTTT,] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR,
257
Bis castle of Beauty near Vincenneg ; when the duke of Orleans
was well again, the two princes took the communion together and
dined together at their uncle's, the duke of Berry's ; and the duke
of Orleans invited tte new duke of Burgundy to dine with him the
neit Sunday. The Parisians took pleasure in obserying these little
matters, and in hoping for the re-establishment of harmony in the
rojul family. They were soon to be cruelly undeceived.
On the 23rd of November, 1407, the duke of Orleans had dined
at Queen Isabel's. He was returning about eiglit in the evening
along Vieille Rue du Temple, singing and playing with his glove, and
attended by only two squires riding one horse, and by four or five
rarlets on foot carrying torches. It was a gloomy night; not a
soul in the streets. When the duke was about a hundred paces
from the queen's hostel, eighteen or twenty armed men, who had
Iain in ambush behind a house called hfut/fc tie Noir^Damey dashed
suddenly out; the squires' horse took fright and ran away with
tbem ; and the assassins rushed upon the duke, shouting, '' Death !
death I " " What is all this ?'* said he, '* I am the duke of Orleans."
**Just what we want," was the answer; and they hurled him down
from his mule. He struggled to his knees ; but the fellows struck
at him heavily with axe and sword. A young man in his train
made an effort to defend him and was immediately cut down ; and
another, ^ievously wounded, had but just time to escape into a
Neighbouring shop. A poor cobbler's wife opened her window and,
seeing the work of assassination, shrieked, " Murder t murder 1"
"Hold your tongue, you strumpet!" cried some one from the street.
Others shot arrows at the windows where lookers on might be. A
till man, wearing a red cap which came down over his eyes, said
in a loud voice, " Out with all lights and away !" The assassins
fled at the top of their speed, shouting, " Firel fire !'* throwing
behind them foot-trippers, and by menaces causing all the lights to
be put out which were being lighted here and there in the shops.
The duke was quite dead. One of his squires, returning to the
spot, found his body stretched on the road and mutilated all over.
He was carried to the neighbouring church of Blancs-Manteaux,
thither all the royal family came to render the last sad offices.
The duke of Burgundy appeared no less afflicted than the rest.
VOL- u. a
258
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Cbat. XXIIL
** Never j'* said he, ''was a more wicked and traitorous murder,
committed in this realm," The proTost of Paris, sire de TigoouviUc
set on foot an active seai^ch after the perpetrators. He wms sum-
moned before the council of princes, and the duke of Berry
asked him if he had discovered any thing. " I believe/* said the
provost J *' that if I had leave to enter all the hostek of the kiiig*i
servants^ and even of the princes, I could get on the track of
authors or accomplices of the crime." He was authorized to ent^
wherever it seemed good to him. He went away to set himself to
work. The duke of Burgundy looking troubled and growing paK
" Cousin," said the king of Naples, Louis d'Anjou, who was presc
at the councilj "can you know aught about it? You must tell iia*1
Tlie duke of Burgundy took him, together with his uncle, the dl
of Berry J aside, and told them that it was he himself who, tempted
of the devil, had giv^en orders for this murder. ** Oh I GodT' cried
the duke of Berry, '^then I lose both my nephews !" The duke of
Burgundy went out in great confusion and the council separate*!.
Hesearch brought about the discovery that the crime had been for
a long while in preparation, and that a Norman nobleman, Raoul
d*Auquetonville, late receiver-general of finance, having b*^^^
deprived of liia post by the duke of Orleans for malversation, 1: .■-
been the instrument. The council of princes met the nest day at
the H6tel de Nesle* The duke of Burgundy, wlio had recovered all
his audacity, came to take his seat there. Word was se^t to him
not to enter the room. Duke John persisted ; but the dtike nf
BeiTy went to the door and said to him, *' Nephew, give up thti
notion of entering the council ; you would not be seen there wit
pleasure,*' "I give up mtlingly," answered Duk© John; **m
that none may be accused of putting to death the duke of Orleani
I declare that it was I and none other who caused the doing
what has been done." Thereupon he turned liis horse's head* '
returned forthwith to the Hotel d'Artois^ and taking only six nmu
with him he gallopped without a halt, except to change horied, M
the frontier of Flanders. The diUce of Bourbon complained bitterly
at the council that an immediate arrest had not been ordered- Tl
admiral de Brabant and a hundred of the duke of Orleans* knight
set out in pursuit, but were unable to come up in time. NeitbtT
Chap.XXHL] the hundred YEARS' WAR.
261
Baoul d*AuquetonvillG nor any otlier of the assassins was caught.
The magistrates as well as the public were seized with stupor in
view of so great a crime and so great a criminal.
But the duke of Orleans left a widow who, in spite of hie infi-
delities and hia irregularities, was passionately attached to him,
Valentine Visconti, the duke of Milan's daughter^ whose dowry
ikad gone to pay the ransom of King John, was at Chateau-Thierry
when she heard of her husband's mui'der. Hers was one of those
natures, fiiU of softness and at the same time of fire, which grief
does not oTerwhelm and in which a passion for vengeance is
excited and fed by their despair. She started for Paris in the
early part of December, 1407, during the roughest winter, it was
laid, ever known for several centuries, taking with her all her
children. The duke of Berry, the duke of Bourbon, the count of
Clermont, and the constable went to meet her. Herself and all
ter train in deep mourning, she dismoimted at the hostel of St.
Paul, threw herself on her knees before the king with the princes
and council around him, and demanded of him justice for her
husband's cruel death. The chancellor promised justice in the
name of the king, who added with his own lips, "We regard the
deed relating to our own brother as done to ourself." The com-
passion of aU present was boundless, and so was their indignation;
but it was reported that the duke of Burgundy was getting ready
to return to Paris, and with what following and for what purpose
would he come P Nothing was known on that point. There was
m force with which to make a defence- Nothing waa done for the
duehess of Orleans; no prosecution began. As much vexed and
irritated as disconsolate, she set out for Blois with her children,
being resolved to fortify herself there* Charles had another
relapse of hia malady. The people of Paris, who were rather
fevourable than adverse to the duke of Burgundy, laid the blame
of the king's new attack and of the general alarm upon the duchess
of Orleans, who was off in flight. John the Fearless actually
reentered Paris on the 20th of February, 1408, with a thousand
men-at-arms, amidst popular acclamation and cries of ** Long live
tlie duke of Burgundy T* Having taken up a strong position at
the Hotel d'Artois, he sent a demand to the king for a solemn
262 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXH
audience, proclaiming his intention of setting forth the motives for
which he had caused the duke of Orleans to be slain. The 8th of
March was the day fixed. Charles VI., being worse than ever that
day, was not present; the dauphin, Louis, duke of Guienne, a
child of twelve years, surrounded by the princes, councillors, a
great number of lords, doctors of the University, burgesses of note,
and people of various conditions, took his father's place at this
assembly. The duke of Burgundy had entrusted a Norman Cordeher,
master John Petit, with his justification. The monk spoke for
more than five hours, reviewing Sacred History and the histories of
Greece, Rome, and Persia, and the precedents of Phineas, Absalom
the son of David, Queen AthaUah, and Julian the Apostate, to
prove " that it is lawful, and not only lawful but honourable and
meritorious in any subject to slay or cause to be slain a traitor and
disloyal tyrant, especially when he is a man of such mighty power
that justice cannot well be done by the sovereign." This principle
once laid down, John Petit proceeded to apply it to the duke of
Burgundy " causing to be slain that criminal tyrant the duke of
Orleans, who was meditating the damnable design of thrusting aside
the king and his children from their crown;" and he drew from it
the conclusion that *' the duke of Burgundy ought not to be at all
blamed or censured for what had happened in the person of the
duke of Orleans, and that the king not only ought not to be dis-
pleased with him, but ought to hold the said lord of Burgundy as
well as his deed agreeable to him and authorized by necessity."
The defence thus concluded, letters were actually put before
the king, running thus : '* It is our will and pleasure that our
cousin of Burgundy, his heirs and successors, be and abide at peace
with us and our successors in respect of the aforesaid deed and all
that hath foUowed thereon ; and that by us, our said successors,
our people and officers, no hindrance, on account of that, may be
offered them either now or in time to come."
Charles VI., weak in mind and will, even independently of his
attacks, signed these letters and gave Duke John quite a kind
reception, teUing him, however, that " he could cancel the penalty
but not the resentment of every body, and that it was for him to
defend himself against perils which were probably imminent/' The
Chap.XXIIL] the hundred YEARS' WAR. 263
duke answered proudly that " so long as he stood in the king's
good graces he did not fear any man Uving."
Three days after this strange audience and this declaration,
Queen Isabel, but lately on terms of the closest intimacy with the
duke of Orleans who had been murdered on his way home after
dining with her, was filled with alarm and set ofi" suddenly for
Melun, taking with her her son Louis, the dauphin, and accom-
panied by nearly all the princes, who, however, returned before
long to Paris, being troubled by the displeasure the duke of
Burgundy testified at their departure. For more than four months
Duke John the Fearless remained absolute master of Paris, dis-
posing of all posts, giving them to his own creatures, and putting
himself on good terms with the University and the principal
biurgesses. A serious revolt amongst the Lifegese called for his
presence in Flanders. The first troops he had sent against them
had been repulsed; and he felt the necessity of going thither
in person. But two months after his departure from Paris, on the
26th of August, 1408, Queen Isabel returned thither from Melun,
with the dauphin Louis, who for the first time rode on horseback,
and with three thousand men-at-arms. She set up her estabUsh-
ment at the Louvre. The Parisians shouted "Noel," as she
passed along ; and the duke of Berry, the duke of Bourbon, the
duke of Brittany, the constable, and all the great ofl&cers of the
crown rallied round her. Two days afterwards, on the 28th of
August, the duchess of Orleans arrived there from Blois, in a black
litter drawn by four horses caparisoned in black, and followed by
a large number of mourning carriages. On the 5th of September
a state assembly was held at the Louvre. All the royal family, the
princes and great ofl&cers of the crown, the presidents of the parlia-
ment, fifteen archbishops or bishops, the provost of Paris, the
provost of tradesmen, and a hundred burgesses of note attended it.
Thereupon master Juvenal des Ursins, king's advocate, announced
the intention of Charles VI. in his illness to confer the government
upon the queen, set forth the reasons for it, called to mind the able
regency of Queen Blanche, mother of St. Louis, and produced royal
letters sealed with the great seal Immediately the duchess of
Orleans came forward^ knelt at the dauphin's feeti demanding
864
HISTORY OF FRANCE,
[Chap. XXm*
justice for the deatli of her huaband> and begged that she ruighfc
have a day appointed her for refuting the calumnies with which it
had been sought to blacken his memory. The dauphin pronnsed a
speedy reply- On the 11th of September, accordingly, a new
meeting of princes, lords, prelates, parHament, the University, and
burgesses was held in the great hall of the Louvre- The duchess
of Orleans, the duke her son, their chancellor, and the principal
officers of her household were introduced, and leave was given thom
to proceed with the justification of the late duke of Orleans, It
had been prepared beforehand ; the duchess placed the manuscript
before the council, as pledging herself unreservedly to all it con-
tained, and master S<5risy, abbot of St. Fiacre, a monk of the order
of St. Benedict, read the docnment out publicly* It was a long and
learned defence in which the imputations made by the Cordelier,
John Petit, against the late duke of Orleans, were effectually and
in some parts eloquently refuted. After the justification, master
Cousinot, advocate of the duchess of Orleans, presented in person
his demands against the duke of Burgundy. They claimed that he
should be bound to come " without belt or chaperon " and
disavow solemnly and publicly, on his knees before the royal family
and also on the very spot whore the crime was committed, the
murder of the duke of Orleans, After several other acts of repa-
ration which were imposed upon him, he was to be sent into exile
for twenty years beyond the seas, and on his return to remain at
twenty leagues' distance, at least, from the king and the royal
family- After reading these demands, which were more legitimate
than practicable, the young dauphin, well instructed as to what h©
had to say, addressed the duchess of Orleans and her children in
these terms: "We and all the princes of the blood royal herepresenti
after having heard the justification of our uncle, the duke of Or!eans>
have no doubt left touching the honour of his memory and do hold
him to be completely cleared of all that hath been said contrary to
his reputation. As to the further demands you make they shall be
suitably provided for in course of justice," At this answer the
assembly broke up.
It had just been reported that the duke of Burgundy had com*
pletely beaten and reduced to submission the insurgent Lifegese and
Chap, XXm.] THE HUNDRED YEAES^ WAR,
265
that he was preparing to return to Paris with his army. Great was
the consternation amongst the council of the queen and princes.
Thej feared above eveiy thing to see the king and the dauphin in the
diike of Burgundy's power ; and it was decided to quit Paris which
had always testified a favourable disposition towards Duke John.
Charles VI. was the first to depart, on the 3rd of November, 1408,
The queen, the dauphin, and the princes followed him two days
afterwards, and at Gien they all took boat on the Loire to go to
Tours. The duke of Burgundy on his arrival at Paris, on the 28th
of November, found not a soul belonging to the royal family or the
court; and he felt a moment's embarrassment. Even his audacity
and lack of scruple did not go to the extent of doing without the king
altogether, or even of dispensing with having him for a tool; and he
had seen too much of the Parisian populace not to know how pre-
carious and fickle was its favour. He determined to negotiate with
the king's party, and for that purpose he sent his brother-in-law,
the count of Hainault, to Tours, with a brilliant train of unarmed
attendants, bidden to make themselves agreeable and not to fight.
A recent event had probably much to do with his decision. His most
indomitable foe, she to whom the king and his councillors had lately
granted a portion of the vengeance she was seeking to take on him,
Valentine of Milan, duchess of Orleans, died on the 4th of December,
1#8, at Blois, £ir fi'om satisfied with the moral reparation she had
obtained in her enemy's absence, and cleai'ly foreseeing that against
the duke of Burgundy, flushed with victory and present in person,
she would obtain nothing of what she had asked. For spirits of
the best mettle, and especially for a woman's heart, impotent
pasiion is a heavy burden to bear ; and Valentine Visconti, beau-
tiful, amiable, and unhappy even in her best days through the fault
of the husband she loved, sank under this trial. At the close of
her life she had taken for device, ** Naught have I more, more hold
I naught" {Rien ne m' est plus ; plus ne m'est rien); and so fully
was that her habitual feeling that she had the words inscribed
upon the black tapestry of her chamber. In her last hours she had
by her side her three sons and her daughter, but there was another
still whom she remembered. She sent for a child, six years of age,
John, a natural son of her husband by Marietta d'Enghien, wife of
HISTORY or FKANCE.
[Chaf. XXIIL
sire de Cany-Dunois. "Tliis onej" said she, *^was filched from mc;
yet there is not a child so well cut out as he to avenge hiB father's
death/* Twenty*five years later John was the famous bastso^
of Orleans^ Count Dunois, Charles VII /s Heutenant-general and
Joan of Arc*s comrade in the work of saving the French kingship
and France,
The duke of Burgundy's negotiations at Tours were not fruit 1
The result was that on the 0th of March, 1409, a treaty waiJ coii3
eluded and an interview eflFectcd at Chartres between the duke on
one side and on the other the king, the queen, the dauphin, all the
royal family, the councillors of the crown, the young duke of
Orleans, his brother, and a hundred knights of their house, all met
together to hear the king declare that he pardoned the duke of
Burgundy* The duke pmyed '' mj lord of Orleans and my k
his brothers to banish from their hearts all hatred and vengeancse j^
and the princes of Orleans " assented to what the king commanded
them and forgave their cousin the duke of Burgundy every thing
entirely." On the way back fi'om Chartres the duke of Bmgundj
fool kept playing with a church-paten (called "peace") and thrust- ^
ing it under his cloak, saying, " See, this is a cloak of peace;'' :
*' Many folks/* says Juvenal des Ursins, " considered this Ikj
pretty wise/* The duke of Buigundy had good reason, howevc
for geeking this outward reconcihation ; it put an end to a pc
too extended not to become pretty soon untenable ; the peace
a cause of great joy at Paris ; the king was not long cot
back; and two hundred thousand persons, says the chronicle
went out to meet him, shouting, ** Noel !" The duke of Burgunc
had gone out to receive him ; and the queen and the princes arrive
two days afterwards. It was not known at the time, though ifc^
perhaps the most serious result of the negotiation, that a
understanding had been established between John the Fearless
Isabel of Bavaria, The queen, as false as she was dissolute,
seen that the duke might be of service to her on occasion if shi
served him in her turn, and they had added the falsehood of their
undivulged arrangement to that of the general reconciliation.
But falsehood does not extinguish the facts it attempts to dis-
guise. The hostility between the houses of Orleans and Burgundy
I
CHAF-XXm,] THE HTINDRED YEABS
oould not fail to sumve the treaty of Chartres and cause searcli to
be made for a man to head the struggle so soon as it could be
recommenced. The hour and the man were not long waited for.
In the very year of the treaty, Charles of Orleans, eldest son of the
murdered duke and Valentine of Milans lost his wife, Isabel of
France^ daughter of Charles VI- ; and as early as the following
year (1410) the princes, his uncles, made him marry Bonne
d'Armagnac, daughter of Count Bernard d'Armagnac, one of the
most powerful, the most able, and the most ambitious lords of
southern France, rorthwith, in concert with the duke of Berry,
the duke of Brittany, and seyeral other lords, Count Bernard put
himself at the head of the Orleans party, and prepared to proceed
against the duke of Burgundy in the cause of dominion combined
with vengeance. From 1410 to 1415 France was a prey to civil
yiw between the Armagnacs and Burgundians and to their alter-
nate successes and reverses brought about by the unscrupulous
employment of the most odious and desperate means- The Burgun-
dians had generally the advantage in the struggle, for Paris was
eMefly the centre of it, and their influence was predominant
there. Their principal allies there were the butchers, the boldest
and most ambitious corporation in the city. For a long time the
biitcher*trade of Paris had been in the hands of a score of families;
the number had been repeatedly reduced and at the opening of the
fifteenth century, three families, the Legoix, the St, Tons, and the
Thiberts bad exercised absolute mastery in the market-district,
wMch in turn exercised mastery over nearly the whole city. " One
Caboehe^ a flayer of beasts in the shambles of Hotel-Dieu, and
Piaster John de Troyes, a surgeon with a talent for speaking, were
tteir most active associates. Their company consisted of prentice-
l^tcters, medical students, skinners, tailors, and every kind of
J<?wd fellows. When any body caused their displeasure they said,
* Here's an Armagnac/ and despatched him on the spot, and
plundered his house, or dragged him ofi* to prison to pay dear for
^B release. The rich burgesses lived in fear and peril. More
^Wi three hundred of them went off to Melun with the provost of
l^^esmen, who could no longer answer for the tranquillity of tho
^ty/' Tho Armagnacs, in spito of their general inferiority, some-
270 HISTORT OP FEANOB. [Cbxp. XXHL
times got the upper hand and did not then behave with much more
discretion than the others. They committed the mistake of asking
aid from the king of England, " promising him the immediate sur-
render of all the cities, castles, and baihwicks they still possessed
in Guienne and Poitou." Their correspondence fell into the hands
of the Burgundians, and the duke of Burgundy showed the king
himself a letter stating " that the duke of Berry, the duke of
Orleans, and the duke of Bourbon had lately conspired together at
Bourges for the destruction of the king, the kingdom, and the good
city of Paris." " Ah !" cried the poor king with tears, " wo quite
see their wickedness, and we do conjure you, who are of our own
blood, to aid and advise us against them." The duke and his par-
tisans, kneeling on one knee, promised the king all the assistance
possible with their persons and their property. The civil war was
passionately carried on. The Burgundians went and besieged
Bourges. The siege continued a long while without success.
Some of the besiegers grew weary of it. Negotiations were opened
with the besieged. An interview took place before the walls
between the duke of Berry and the duke of Burgundy. " Nephew,"
said the former, " I have acted ill, and you still worse. It is for
us to try and maintain the kingdom in peace and prosperity." " I
will be no obstacle, uncle," answered Duke John. Peace was
made. It Avas stipulated that the duke of Berry and the Armagnac
lords should give up all alliance Avitli the English and all confederacy
against the duke of Burgundy, who, on his side, should give up any
that he might have formed against them. An engagement was
entered into mutually to render aid, service, and obedience to the
king against his foe of England as they were bound by right and
reason to do ; and lastly a promise was made to observe the articles
of the peace of Chartres and to swear them over again. There was
a special prohibition against using for the future the words Ar-
magnacs and Burgundians or any other term reflecting upon either
party. The pacification was solemnly celebrated at Auxerre, on
the 22nd of August, 1412 ; and on the 29th of September following,
the dauphin once more entered Paris, with the duke of Burgimdy
at his side. The king, queen, and duke of Berry arrived a few days
afterwards. The people gave a hearty reception to them, even to
Chaf.xsul] the hundred yeaes^ war.
271
tie Armagnacs, well known as such, in their train; but the
l3utchers and the men of their faction murmured loudly and treated
^be peace as treason* Outside, it was little more than nominal ;
-trhe count of Armagnac remained under arms and the duke of
CUrleans held aloof from Paris. A violent ferment again began
*here. The butchers continued to hold the mastery. The duke of
burgundy, all the while finding them very much in the way, did
xiot cease to pay court to them. Many of his knights were highly
ciispleased at seeing themselves mixed up with such fellows. The
lionest burgesses began to be less fi'ightened at the threats and
:iiiore angry at the excesses of the butchers. The advocate-general,
Juvenal des ITrsins, had several times called without being received
at the HAtel d' Artois, but one night the duke of Burgundy sent for
liim and asked him what he thought of the position. '* My lord/*
Said the magistrate, *' do not persist in always maintaining that
you did well to have the duke of Orleans slain ; enough mischief
has come of it to make you agree that you were wrong* It is not
to your honour to let yourself be guided by flayers of beasts and a
lot of lewd fellows. I can guarantee that a hundred biu'gesses of
Paris, of the highest character, would undertake to attend you
every where and do whatever you should bid them, and even lend
you money if you wanted it/' The duke listened patiently, but
atiswered that he had done no wrong in the case of the duke of
Orleans and would never confess that he had* ''As to the fellows
of* whom you speak," said he, '• I know my own business." Juvenal
Returned home without much belief in the duke's firmness. He
ii^imsell^ full of courage as he was, durst not yet declare himself
^^^601)% The thought of all this occupied his mind incessantly,
^^leeping and waking. One niglit, when he had fallen asleep
^^^Dwards morning, it seemed to him that a voice kept saying, Snrgtte
int sederitiSj qui mandii'Catiii fmiem doloris (Rise up from your
^^itting, ye who eat the bread of sorrow). Wlien he awoke, his wife,
^good and pious woman, said to him, *'My dear, this morning I
^eard some one saying to you, or you pronouncing in a dream some
"^ords that I have often read in my Haiirs ;" and she repeated
them to him. *' My dear," answered Juvenal, " we have eleven
<!liildren, and consequently great cause to pray God to grant us
272 HISTORY OP PRANCE. [CHAP.XXni.
peace ; let us hope in Him, and He will help us." He often saw
the duke of Berry. " Well, Juvenal,'* the old prince would say to
him, " shall this last for ever ? Shall we be for ever under the
sway of these lewd fellows ? " My lord," Juvenal would answer,
" hope we in God ; yet a little while and we shall see them con-
founded and destroyed."
Nor was Juvenal mistaken. The opposition to the yoke of the
Burgundians was daily becoming more and more earnest and
general. The butchers attempted to stem the current; but the
carpenters took sides against them, saying, " We will see which
are the stronger in Paris, the hewers of wood or the fellers of
oxen." The parliament, the exchequer-chamber, and the H6tel-
de-Ville demanded peace; and the shout of Peace! 'peace I
resounded in the streets. A great crowd of people assembled on
the Grfeve ; and thither the butchers came with their company of
about twelve hundred persons, it is said. They began to speak
against peace, but could not get a hearing. " Let those who are
for it go to the right," shouted a voice, " and those who are against
it to the left !" But the adversaries of peace durst not risk this
test. The duke of Burgundy could not help seeing that he was
declining rapidly; he was no longer summoned to the king's
council ; a watch was kept upon his house ; and he determined to
go away. On the 23rd of August, 1413, without a word said, even
to his household, he went away to the wood of Vincennes, prevail-
ing on the king to go hawking with him. There was a suspicion
that the duke meant to carry oflf the king. Juvenal des Ursins
with a company of armed burgesses hurried off to Vincennes, and
going straight to the king, said, " Sir, come away to Paris ; it is
too hot to be out." The king turned to go back to the city. The
duke of Burgundy was angry, saying, that the king was going
a-hawking. "You would take him too far," rejoined Juvenal;
" your people are in travelling-dress and you have your trumpeters
with you." The duke took leave of the king, said business
required his presence in Flanders, and went off as fast as he could.
When it was known that he had gone, there was a feeling of
regret and disquietude amongst the sensible and sober burgesses
at Paris. What they wanted was peace ; and in order to have it
Chap. XXTTT,] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 275
the adherence of the duke of Burgundy was indispensable. Wliilst
he was present, there might be hope of winning him or forcing him
over to it ; but, whilst he was absent, headstrong as ho was known
to be, a renewal of war was the most probable contingency. And
this result appeared certain when it was seen how the princes
hostile to the duke of Burgundy, above all, Duke Charles of
Orleans, the count of Armagnac and their partisans hastened back
to Paris and resumed their ascendency with the king and in his
council. The dauphin, Louis, duke of Aquitaine, united himself by .
the ties of close friendship with the duke of Orleans, and prevailed
upon him to give up the mourning he had worn since his father's
murder ; the two princes appeared every where dressed alike ; the
scarf of Armagnac replaced that of Burgundy ; the feelings of the
populace changed as the fashion of the court ; and when children
sang in the streets the song but lately in vogue, " Burgundy's
duke, God give thee joy!" they were struck and hurled to the
ground. Facts were before long in accordance with appearances.
After a few pretences of arrangement the duke of Burgundy took
up arms and marched on Paris. Charles VI., on his side, annulled,
in the presence of Parliament, all acts adverse to the duke of
Orleans and his adherents; and the king, the queen, and the
dauphin bound themselves by oath not to treat with the duke of
Burgundy until they had destroyed his power. At the end of
March, 1414, the king's army was set in motion ; Compifegne,
Soissons, and Bapaume, which held out for the duke of Burgundy,
were successively taken by assault or surrendered ; the royal troops
treated the people as vanquished rebels ; and the four great com-
munes of Flanders sent a deputation to the king to make protesta-
tions of their respect and an attempt to arrange matters between
their lord and his suzerain. Animosity was still too lively and too
recent in the king's camp to admit of satisfaction with a victory as
yet incomplete. On the 28th of July began the siege of Ajras ;
but after five weeks the besiegers had made no impression; an
epidemic came upon them ; the duke of Bavaria and the constable,
Charles d'Albret, were attacked by it; weariness set in on
both sides ; the duke of Burgundy himself began to be anxious
about his position ; and he sent the duke of Brabant, his brother,
T 2
276 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXm.
and the countess of Hainault, his sister, to the king and the
dauphin with more submissive words than he had hitherto deigned
to utter. The countess of Hainault, pleading the ties of family and
royal interests, managed to give the dauphin a bias towards peace;
and the dauphin in his turn worked upon the mind of the king,
who was becoming more and more feeble and accessible to the
most opposite impressions. It was in vain that the most intimate
friends of the duke of Orieans tried to keep the king steadfast in
his wrath from night to morning. One day when he was still in
bed one of them softly approaching and putting his hand under the
coverlet, said, plucking him by the foot, '' My lord, are you asleep?"
" No, cousin," answered the king ; " you are quite welcome ; is there
any thing new ?" " No sir ; only that your people report that if
you would assault Arras there would be good hope of effecting an
entry." **But if my cousin of Burgundy listens to reason and
puts the town into my hands without assault, we will make peace."
**What! sir; you would make peace with this wicked, this dis-
loyal man who so cruelly had yoiu* brother slain ?" ** But all was
forgiven him with the consent of my nephew of Orleans," said the
king mournfully. " Alas ! sir, you will never see that brother
again." " Let me be, cousin," said the king impatiently, '' I shall
see him again on the day of judgment."
Notwithstanding this stubborn way of working up the irrecon-
cilable enmities which caused divisions in the royal family, peace
was decided upon and concluded at Arras, on the 4th of September,
1414, on conditions as vague as ever, wliich really put no end to
the causes of civil war, but permitted the king on the one hand and
the duke of Burgundy on the other to call themselves and to wear
an appearance of being reconciled. A serious event wliich hap-
pened abroad at that time was heavily felt in France, reawakened
the spirit of nationality, and opened the eyes of all parties a httle
to the necessity of suspending their own selfish disagreements.
Henry IV., king of England, died on the 20th of March, 1413.
Having been chiefly occupied with the difficulties of his own
government at home, he, without renouncing the war with Prance,
had not prosecuted it vigorously, and had kept it in suspense or
adjournment by a repetition of truces. Henry V., his son and
pflAF.XKIll-] THE HUNDHED YEARS' WAS.
277
sicc^sor^ a young prince of five and twenty, active, ambitiouej able,
aod popular, gave, from the very moment of his accession, signs of
having bolder views, which were not long coming to maturity, in
rej?pect of his relations with France, The duke of Burgundy ha^i
undoubtedly anticipated them, for, as soon as he was cognizant of
Efinry IV/s death, he made overt in*es in London for the marriage
of his daughter Catherine with the new king of England, and he
J^eived at Bruges an EngMsh embassy on tlie subject. When this
^as known at Paris, the council of Charles VI, sent to the duke of
Burgundy sire de Dampierre and the bishop of Evreux bearing
letters to him from the king '' which forbad him, on pain of for-
feiture and treason, to enter into any treaty with the king of
England either for his daughter's marriage or for any other cause*'*
But the views of Henry V* soared higher than a marriage with a
daughter of the duke of Burgundy, It wag to the hand of the
Idng of France's daughter, herself also named Catherine, that he
laade pretension, flattering himself that he would find in this union
aid in support of his pretences to the crown of France. These
pretences he put forward, hardly a year after his accession to the
throne, basing them, as Edward III, had done, on the alleged right
_ of Isabel of France, wife of Edward II., to succeed King John. No
W ^eply was v^ouchsafed from Paris to this demand. Only the
Princess Catherine, who was but thirteen, was presented to the
envoys of the king of England, and she struck them as being tall
and beautifuL A month later , in August, 1414, Henry V. gave
^ Charles VL to understand that he would be content with a strict
^^atecution of the treaty of Bretigny, with the addition of Normandy,
Vliwjoii, and Maine, and the hand of the Princess Catherine with a
<ioffry of two miUion crowns. The war between Charles VI. and
Join the Fearless caused a suspension of all negotiations on this
I^^bject ; but, after the peace of Arra^, in January, 1415, a new and
^^<)3emn embassy from England arrived at Paris, and the late propo-
*bJb were again brought forward. The ambassadors had a magni-
ficent reception ; splendid presents and enteitaiumentif were given
"^Iiein ; but no answer was made to their demands ; they were only
*^ld that the king of France was about to send an embassy to the
'^itig of England* It did not set out before the 27th of the following
278 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap.XXIIL
April ; the archbishop of Bourges, the most eloquent prelate in the
council, was its spokesman ; and it had orders to oflfer the king of
England the hand of the Princess Catherine with a dowry of eight
hundred and forty thousand golden crowns, besides fifteen towns in
Aquitaine and the seneschalty of Limoges. Henry' V. rejected these
offers, declaring that, if he did not get Normandy and all iihe
districts ceded by the treaty of Br^tigny, he would have recourse
to war to recover a crown which belonged to him. To this arro-
gant language the archbishop of Bourges replied, " 0 king, what
canst thou be thinking of that thou wouldst fain thus oust the
king of the French, our lord, the most noble and excellent of
Christian kings, from the throne of so powerful a kingdom ?
Thinkest thou that it is for fear of thee and of the English that he
hath made thee an offer of his daughter together with so great a
sum and a poi*tion of his land ? Nay, verily ; he was moved by
pity and the love of peace ; he would not that the innocent blood
should be spUt and Christian people destroyed in the hurly-burly
of battle. He will invoke the aid of God Almighty, of the blessed
virgin Mary, and of all the saints. Then by his own arms and
those of his loyal subjects, vassals, and allies, thou wilt be driven
from his kingdom, and, peradventure, meet with death or capture."
On returning to Paris the ambassadors, in presence of the king's
council and a numerous assembly of clergy, nobiUty, and people,
gave an account of their embassy and advised instant preparation
for war without listening to a single word of peace. " They loudly
declared," says the monk of St. Denis, *'that King Henry's letters,
though tliey were apparently full of moderation, had lurking at the
bottom of them a great deal of perfidy, and that this king, all the
time that he was offering peace and union in the most honied
terms, was thinking only how he might destroy the kingdom, and
was levying troops in all quarters." Henry V., indeed, in Novem-
ber, 1414, demanded of his parliament a large subsidy, which
was at once voted without any precise mention of the use to be
made of it, and merely in the terms following : " For the defence
of the realm of England and the security of the seas." At the
commencement of the following year Henry resumed negotiations
with France, renouncing his claims to Normandy, Anjou, and
I
Cfflip.XXni] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAS,
279
I
I
•
I
MMne J but Charles VI, and his council adhered to their former
cffers- On the 16th of Aprils 1416, Henry announced to a grand
council of spiritual and temporal peerSj assembled at Wostminster,
liis determination ** of setting out in person to go and, by God's
grace, recover his heritage." He appointed one of his brothers,
^he duke of Bedford, to be regent in his absence, and the
Twrs, ecclesiastical and laical, applauded his design, promising
^m their sincere co-operation. Thus France, under a poor mad
Iskg and amidst civil dissensions of the most obstinate character,
found the question renewed for her of French verms English king-
fiiip and national independence vermis foreign conquest.
On the 14th of August, 1415, an Englisli fleet, having on board,
together with King Henry V,, six thousand men-at-arms, twenty-
four thousand archers, powerful war -machines, and a multitude of
artisans and ** small folk *' came to land near Harfleur, not far
from the mouth of the Seine, It was the most formidable expedi-*
tion that had ever issued from the ports of England, The English
©pent several days in effectiag their landing and setting up their
Biege-train around the walls of the city, " It would have been
^^sy,'* says the monk of St. Denis, *^to hinder their operations, and
the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood would have worked
tliereat with zeal, if they had not counted that the nobility of the
district and the royal army commanded by the constable, Charles
d'AJbret, would come to their aid/' No one came. The burgesses
and the small garrison of Harfleur made a gallant defence ; but, on
the 22nd of September, not receiving from Vernon, where the king
and the dauphin were massing their troops, any other assistance
tloian the advice to " take courage and trust to the king*s discre-
tioD,*' they capitulated; and Henry V., after taking possession of
tie place, advanced into the country with an army already much
i^iduced by sickness, looking for a favourable point at which to
^JToss the Somme and push his invasion still farther* It was
^ot until the 19th of October that ho succeeded, at Bdthcncourt,
^ear St* Quentin, Chailes VI,, who at that time had a lucid
interval, after holding at Rouen a council of war, at which it
^as resolved to give the English battle, wished to repaii* with the
^uphin his son to Bapaume where the French army had taken
280
HISTOllT OF FRANCE,
[CHAf . XXIU
position ; but his uncle, the duke of Berry, having still quit^ a
lively recollection of the battle of Poitiers, fought fifty-uine years
before, made opposition, saying, " Better lose the battle than the
king and the battle." All the princes of the royal blood and all the
flower of the French nobility, except the king and his three &oti|^|
and the dukes of Berry, Brittany, and Burgundy joined the army"
The dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, and the constable d'Albret*
who was in command, sent to ask the king of England on what
day and at what place he would be pleased to give them battle.
*'I do not shut myself up in walled towns," replied Henry; "I
shall be found at any time and any where ready to fight if any
attempt be made to cut off my march/' The French resolved to
stop him between Agincourt and Framecourt, a little north of St.
Paul and Hosdin. The encounter took place on the 25th of
October, 1415, It was a monotonous and lamentable repetition of
the disasters of Cr^cy and Poitiers ; disasters almost ineritable,
owing to the incapacity of the leaders and ever the same
defects on the part of the French nobility, defects which rendered
their valorous and generous qualities not only fruitless but
fataL Never had that nobility been more numerous and more
brilliant than in this premeditated struggle- On the eve of
battle marshal de Boucicaut had armed five hundred new knigh
the greater part passed the night on horseback, under ar;
on ground soaked with rain ; and men and horses were already
distressed in the morning, when the battle began. It were tedious
to describe the faulty manoeuvres of the French army and their
deplorable consequences on that day. Never was battle more
stubborn or defeat more complete and bloody* Eight thousand
men of family, amongst whom were a hundred and twenty lords
bearing their own banners, were left on the field of battle* 'J^fl
duke of Brabant, the count of Nevers, the duke of Bar, the duke of
Alenyon, and the constable D*Albret were killed. The duke of
Orleans was dragged out wounded from under the dead. Whn
Henry V., after having spent several hours on the field of ba
retired to his quarters, he was told that the duke of Orleans wouiw
neither eat nor drink. He went to see him. ** What fare, cousin ?'*
said he, ** Good^ my lord," " Why will you not eat or drink?'*
XXm.] THE HUNDRED YEAES* WAE.
283
^
** I wish to fast," ** Cousm/' said tlie king gently, " make good
cheer; if God has granted me grace to gain the victory, I know it
is not owing to my deserts ; I believe that God wished to punish
the French ; and, if all I have heard is true, it is no wonder, for
they say that never were seen disorder, hcentiousness, sins, and
vices like what is going on in France jast now. Surely God did
^wbM to be angry." It appears that the king of England's feeling
^waa that also of many amongst the people of France* " On
reflecting upon this ciniel mishap," says the monk of St, Denis, **all
the inhabitants of the kingdom, men and women, said, ' In what
evil days are we come into this world that we should be witnesses
of such confusion and shame V " Daring the battle the eldest son
of Duke John tho Fearless, the young count of Charolais (at that
time nineteen) J who was afterwards Philip the Good, duke of
Bnrgnndy, was at the castle of Aire, where his governors kept
him by his father's orders and prevented him from joining the
kiDg's army. His servants were leaving him one after another to
gD and defend the kingdom against the Bnghsh. When he heard
of tbe disaster at Agincourt he was seized with profound despair at
having faOed in that patriotic duty ; he would fain have starved
binself to death, and he spent three whole days in tears, none
beiDg able to comfort him. When, four years aferwards, he became
d like of Burgundy, and during his whole life, he continued to testify
hm keen regret at not having fought in that cruel battle, though it
filould have cost him his life, and he often talked with his servants
about that event of grievous memory. When his father, Duke John,
J*>ec^ived the news of the disaster at Agincourt, he also exhibited great
Sorrow and irritation ; he had lost by it his two brothers, the duke
<^f Brabant and the count of Nevers; and he sent forthwith a herald
^ the king of England, who was still at Calais, with orders to say
^'lat in consequence o£ the death of his brother, the duke of Brabant,
^ho was no vassal of France, and held nothing in fief there, he, the
"^Uke of Burgundy, did defy him mortally (fire and sword) and sent
^itn his ^untlet. *' I wiU not accept the gauntlet of so noble and
Puissant a prince as tbe duke of Burgundy,'^ was Henry V*'s soft
^Uswer J ** I am of no account compared with him. If I have had
'Ue victory over the nobles of France, it is by God's grace. The
284 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXin.
death of the duke of Brabant hath been an affliction to me ; but I
do assure thee that neither I nor my people did cause his death.
Take back to thy master his gauntlet ; if he will be at Boulogne on
the 15th of January next, I will prove to him by the testimony
of my prisoners and two of my friends, that it was the French
who accompUshed his brothers' destruction."
The duke of Burgundy, as a matter of course, let his quarrel
with the king of England drop; and occupied himself for the future
only in recovering his power in France. He set out on the march
for Paris, proclaiming every where that he was assembling his
army solely for the purpose of avenging the kingdom, chastising
the English, and aiding the king with his counsels and his forces.
The sentiment of nationaUty was so strongly aroused that politi-
cians most anxious about their own personal interests, and about
them alone, found themselves obliged to pay homage to it.
Unfortunately it was, so far as Duke John was concerned, only a
superficial and transitory homage. There is no repentance so
rarely seen as that of selfishness in pride and power. The four
years which elapsed between the battle of Agincourt and the death of
John the Fearless were filled with nothing but fresh and still more
tragic explosions of hatred and strife between the two factions of
the Burgundians and Armagnacs, taking and losing, retaking and
re-losing, alternately, their ascendency with the king and in the
government of France. When, after the battle of Agincourt, the
duke of Burgundy marched towards Paris, he heard almost simul-
taneously that the king was issuing a prohibition against the entry
of his troops, and that his rival, the count of Armagnac, had just
arrived and been put in possession of the military power, as
constable, and of the civil power, as superintendent-general of
finance. The duke then returned to Burgundy and lost no time
in recommencing hostiUties against the king's government. At
one time he let his troops make war on the king's and pillaged the
domains of the crown ; at another he entered into negotiations
with the king of England and showed a disposition to admit his
claims to such and such a pro\nnce, and even perhaps to the throne
of France. He did not accede to the positive alliance offered him
by Henry; but he employed the fear entertained of it by the king's
Chap.XKOI.] the hundred YEABS' war. 285
govemment as a weapon against his enemies. The count of
Armagnac, on his side, made the most relentless use of power
against the duke of Burgundy and his partisans; he pursued
them every where, especially in Paris, with dexterous and pitiless
hatred. He abolished the whole organization and the privileges of
the Parisian butcherdom which had shown so favourable a leaning
towards Duke John ; and the system he established as a substitute
was founded on excellent grounds appertaining to the interests of
the people and of good order in the heart of Paris, but the violence
of absolute power and of hatred robs the best measures of the
credit they would deserve if they were more disinterested and
dispassionate. A Uvely reaction set in at Paris in favour of the
persecuted Burgundians ; even outside of Paris several towns of
importance, Rheims, Chalons, Troyes, Auxerre, Amiens, and
Rouen itself, showed a favourable disposition towards the duke
of Burgundy, and made a sort of alliance with him, promising to
aid him " in reinstating the king in his freedom and lordship and
the realm in its freedom and just rights." The couut of Armagnac
was no more tender with the court than with the populace of Paris.
He suspected, not without reason, that the queen, Isabel of Bavaria,
was in secret communication with and gave information to Duke
John. Moreover, she was leading a scandalously licentious life at
Yincennes ; and one of her favourites, Louis de Bosredon, a noble-
man of Auvergne and her steward, meeting the king one day on
the road, greeted the king cavalierly and hastily went his way.
Charles VI. was plainly oflFended. The count of Armagnac seized
the opportunity ; and not only did he foment the king's ill-humour,
but talked to him of all the irregularities of which the queen was
the centre and in which Louis de Bosredon was, he said, at that
time her principal accompUce. Charles, in spite of the cloud upon
his mind, could hardly have been completely ignorant of such
facts ; but it is not necessary to be a king to experience extreme
displeasure on learning that oflFensive scandals are almost public
and on hearing the whole tale of them. The king, carried away by
bis anger, went straight to Vincennes, had a violent scene with
liis wife, and caused Bosredon to be arrested, imprisoned, and put
to the question; and he, on his own confession* it is said, was
286 HISTORY OP PRANCE. [Chap.XXIIL
thrown into the Seine, sewn up in a leathern sack, on which were
inscribed the words, "Let the king's justice run its course!"
Charles VI. and Armagnac did not stop there. Queen Isabel was
first of all removed from the council and stripped of all authority,
and then banished to Tours, where commissioners were appointed
to watch over her conduct, and not to let her even write a letter with-
out their seeing it. But royal personages can easily elude such
strictness. A few months after her banishment, whilst the despotism
of Armagnac and the war between the king and the duke of
Burgundy were still going on. Queen Isabel managed to send to
the duke, through one of her servants, her golden seal, which John
the Fearless well knew, with a message to the effect that she would
go with him if he would come to fetch her. On the night of
November 1st, 1417, the duke of Burgundy hurriedly raised the
siege of Corbeil, advanced with a body of troops to a position withiii
two leagues from Tours, and sent the queen notice that he was
awaiting her. Isabel ordered her three custodians to go with her
to mass at the convent of Marmoutier, outside the city. Scarcely
was she within the church when a Burgundian captain, Hector de
Saveuse, presented himself with sixty men at the door. " Look
to your safety, madame," said her custodians to Isabel, " here is a
large company of Burgundians or English." " Keep close to me,"
replied the queen. Hector de Saveuse at that moment entered and
saluted the queen on behalf of the duke of Burgundy. " Where is
he?" asked the queen. "He will not be long coming." Isabel
ordered the captain to arrest her three custodians ; and two
hours afterwards Duke John arrived with his men-at-arms. " My
dearest cousin," said the queen to him, "I ought to love you above
every man iu the realm ; you have left all at my bidding and are
come to deliver me from prison. Be assured that I will never fail you.
I quite see that you have always been devoted to my lord, his family,
the realm, and the common-weal." The duke carried the queen off
to Chartres ; and as soon as she was settled there, on the 12th of
November, 1417, she Avrote to the good towns of the kingdom : —
" We, Isabel, by the grace of God, queen of France, having, by
reason of my lord the king's seclusion, the government and admi-
nistration of this realm, by irrevocable grant made to us by the
€HAP.XXm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 287
said my lord the king and his council, are come to Ohartres in
company with our cousin, the duke of Burgundy, in order to
advise and ordain whatsoever is necessary to preserve and recover
the supremacy of my lord the king, on advice taken of the
prud'hommes, vassals, and subjects."
She at the same time ordered that master Philip de Morvilliers,
heretofore councillor of the duke of Burgundy, should go to
Amiens, accompanied by several clerics of note and by a registrar,
and that there should be held there, by the queen's authority, for
the bailiwicks of Amiens, Vermandois, Tournai, and the countship
of Ponthieu, a sovereign court of justice, in the place of that which
there was at Paris. Thus, and by such a series of acts of violence
and of falsehoods, the duke of Burgundy, all the while making war
on the king, surrounded himself with hollow forms of royal and
legal government.
Whilst civil war was thus penetrating to the very core of the
kingship, foreign war was making its way again into the kingdom.
Henry V., after the battle of Agincourt, had returned to London,
and had left his army to repose and reorganize after its sufferings
and its losses. It was not until eighteen months afterwards, on
the 1st of August, 1417, that he landed at Touques, not far from
Honfleur, with fresh troops, and resumed his campaign in France.
Between 1417 and 1419 he successively laid siege to nearly all the
towns of importance in Normandy, to Caen, Bayeux, Falaiso,
Evreux, Coutances, Laigle, St. L6, Cherbourg, &c., &c. Some he
occupied after a short resistance, others were sold to him by their
governors ; but, when, in the month of July, 1418, he imdertook
the siege of Rouen, he encountered there a long and serious
struggle. Rouen had at that time, it is said, a population of
150,000 souls, which was animated by ardent patriotism. The
Rouennese, on the approach of the English, had repaired their
gates, their ramparts, and their moats ; had demanded reinforce-
ments from the king of France and the duke of Burgundy ; and
had ordered every person incapable of bearing arms or procuring
provisions for ten months, to leave the city. Twelve thousand old
men, women, and children were thus expelled and died either
round the place or whilst roving in misery over the neighbouring
2S8
HISTOBY OF FRANCE,
[CaAP. SXIII. i
couQtry ; '* poor women gave birtli unassisted beneath the w^dls,
and good compassionate people in the town drew np the new-born
in baskets to have them baptized and afterwards lowered them
down to their mothers to die together." Fifteen thousand men of
city-militia, four thousand regular soldiers^ three hundred spearmen
and aa many archers from Paris, and it is not quite known how
many men-at-arms sent by the duke of Burgundy, defended Rouen
for more than five months amidst all the usual sufferings of strictly
besieged cities. "As early as the beginning of October," says
Monstrelet, " they were forced to eat horses, dogs, eats, and other
things not fit for human beings ;" but they nevertheless mada
frequent sortieSj "rushing furiously upon the enemy^to whom they
caused many a heavy loss.** Pour gentlemen and foiu* burgesses
succeeded in escaping and going to Beauvais, to tell the king and
his council about the deplorable condition of their city* The
council replied that the king was not in a condition to raise the
siege, but that Rouen would be relieved "within" on the fourth
day after Christmas. It was now the middle of December. The
Bouennese resigned themselves to waiting a fortnight longer; but,
when that period was over, they found nothing arrive but a message
from the duke of Burgundy recommending them '* to treat for their ^
preservation with the king of England as best they could." They^
asked to capitulate. Henry V* demanded that " all the men of th
town should place themselves at his disposal.** '* When the com —
monalty of Rouen heard this answer, they all cried out that it were
better to die all together sword in hand against their enemies i
place themselves at the disposal of yonder king, and they were fi
shoring up with planks a loosened layer of the wall inside the ci
and, having armed themselves and joined all of them together, me:
women, and children, for setting-fire to the city, throwing down t
said layer of wall into the moats and getting them gone by night
whither it might please God to direct them.*' Henry V- was unwilling
to confront such heroic despair; and on the 13th of January, 141
he granted the Rouennesea capitulation, from which seven perso
only were excepted , Robert Deli vet, the archbishop's vicar-general,
who from the top of the ramparts had excommunicated the foreign
conqueror ; d'Houdetot, baillie of the city; JohnSegneult, the mayor;
CHAP.XXni.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 289
Alan Blanchard, the captain of the militia-crossbowmen, and three
other burgesses. The last-named, the hero of the siege, was the only
one who paid for his heroism with his life ; the baillie, the mayor,
and the vicar bought themselves off. On the 19th of January, at
mid-day, the English, king and army, made their solemn entry
into the city. It was two hundred and fifteen years since PhiUp
Augustus had won Rouen by conquest from Jolm Lackland, king
of England ; and happily his successors were not to be condemned
to deplore the loss of it very long.
These successes of the king of England were so many reverses and
perils for the count of Armagnac. He had in his hands Paris, the
king, and the dauphin ; in the people's eyes the responsibility of
government and of events rested on his shoulders; and at one time
he was doing nothing, at another he was unsuccessful in what he
did. Whilst Henry V. was becoming master of nearly all the towns
of Normandy, the constable, with the king in his army, was
besieging Senlis; and he was obhged to raise the siege. The
legates of Pope Martin V. had set about estabUshing peace between
the Burgundians and Armagnacs as well as between France and
England ; they had prepared on the basis of the treaty of Arras a
new treaty with which a great part of the country and even of the
burgesses of Paris showed themselves well pleased ; but the con-
stable had it rejected on the ground of its being adverse to the
interests of the king and of France ; and his friend, the chancellor,
Henry de Marie, declared that, if the king were disposed to sign it,
he would have to seal it himself, for that as for him, the chan-
cellor, he certainly would not seal it. Bernard of Armagnac and
his confidential friend, Tanneguy Duchatel, a Breton nobleman,
provost of Paris, were hard and haughty. When a complaint was
made to them of any violent procedure, they would answer,
" What business had you there ? If it were the Burgundians, you
would make no complaint." The Parisian population was becoming
every day more Burgundian. In the latter days of May, 1418, a
plot was contrived for opening to the Burgundians one of the
gates of Paris. Perrinet Leclerc, son of a rich iron-merchant
having influence in the quarter of St. Germain des Prds, stole the
keys from under the bolster of his father's bed ; a troop of Bur-
VOL. IT. u
290 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIIL
gundian men-at-arms came in, and they were immediately joined
by a troop of Parisians. They spread over the city, shouting,
" Our Lady of peace ! Hurrah for the king ! Hurrah for Bur-
gundy! Let all who wish for peace take arms and follow us!"
The people swarmed from the houses and followed them accord-
ingly. The Armagnacs were surprised and seized with alarm.
Tanneguy Duchatel, a man of prompt and resolute spirit, ran to
the dauphin's, wrapped him in his bed-clothes, and carried him off
to the Bastille, where he shut him up with several of his partisans.
The count of Armagnac, towards whose house the multitude
thronged, left by a back-door and took refuge at a mason's where
he believed himself secure. In a few hours the Burgundians were
masters of Paris. Their chief, the lord of Isle-Adam, had the doorti
of the hostel of St. Paul broken in, and presented himself before
the king. " How fares my cousin of Burgundy ?" said Charles
VL, " I have not seen him for some time." That was all he said.
He was set on horseback and marched through the streets. He
showed no astonishment at any thing ; he had all but lost memory
as well as reason, and no longer knew the difference between
Armagnac and Burgundian. A devoted Burgundian, sire Guy de
Bar, was named provost of Paris in the place of Tanneguy Duchatel.
The mason with whom Bernard of Armagnac had taken refuge
went and told the new provost tliat the constable was concealed at
his house. Thither the provost liurried, made the constable mount
behind him, and carried him off to prison at the Chatelet, at the
same time making honourable exertions to prevent massacre and
plunder.
But factions do not so soon give up cither their vengeance or
their hopes. On the the 11th of June, 1418, hardly twelve days
after Paris had fallen into the hands of the Burgundians, a body of
sixteen hundred men issued from the Bastille and rushed into the
street St. Antoine, shouting, *' Hurrah for the king, the dauphin,
and the count of Armagnac !" They were Tanneguy Duchatel and
some of the chiefs of the Armagnacs who were attempting to regain
Paris, where they had observed that the Burgundians were not
numerous. Their attempt had no success and merely gave the
Burgundians the opportunity and the signal for a massacre of their
:«jip. XXIUJ THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
2dl
e^nemies- The little band of Tanneguy Duchatel was instantly
i^epiulsed, hemmed in, and forced to re-enter the Bastille with a
loss of four hundred men. Tanneguy saw that he conld make no
<iofence there ; so he hastily made his way out, taking tlie dauphin
Pwitb him to Melun, The massacre of the Armagnacs had ali-eady
Ibommenced on the previous evening : they were harried in the
hostelries and houses ; they were cut down with axes in the streets.
On the night between the 12th and 13th of June a rumour spread
about that there were bands of Armagnacs coming to deliver
their friends in prison, *' They are at the Bt, Germain gate/* said
^some. '' No, it is the St. Marceau gate/' said others. The mob
^assembled and made a furious rush upon the pi^ison-gates, " The
city and burgesses will have no peace," was the general saying,
^** so long as there is one Armagnac left ! Hurrah for peace !
^B^mrah for the duke of Burgundy!'' The provost of Paris^ the
lord oflsle-Adamj and the principal Burgundian chicftainsj gal-
^ lopped up with a thousand horse, and strove to pacify these mad-
^ffioen, numbering, it is said, some forty thousand. They were
I'et^ived with a shout of "A plague of your justice and pity!
AuCcarsed be ' he whosoever shall have pity on these traitors of
Ajrmagnacs ! They are Enghsh; they are hounds. They had
already made banners for the king of England, and would fain Inive
X^l^iiited them upon the gates of the city. They made us work for
TiDtliing, and when we asked for our due they said, 'You rascals,
^1 aven't ye a sou to buy a cord and go hang yourselves ? In the
^i^'^il's name speak no more of it ; it will be no use whatever you
^«y/ '* The provost of Paris durst not oppose such fury as this,
** Bo what you please,*' said he. The mob ran to look for the
[Constable Armagnao and the chancellor de Marie in the Palacc-
ftower, in which they bad been shut up, and they were at once
I torn to pieces amidst ferocious rejoicings- All the prisons were
I ^^"^ilaackad and emptied; the prisoners who attempted resistance
"^'^re smoked out ; they were hurled down from the windows upon
jAkes held up to catch them. The massacre lasted from four
^' clock in the mornmg to eleven. The common report was that
fifteen hundred persons had perished in it ; the account rendered
to parliament made the number eight hundred. The servants
u 2
292 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [OHAP.XXm
of the duke of Burgundy mentioned to him no more than four
hundred.
It was not before the 14th of July that he with Queen Isabd
came back to the city ; and he came with a sincere design, if not
of punishing the cut-throats, at least of putting a stop to all mas-
sacre and pillage; but there is nothing more difficult than to
suppress the consequences of a mischief of which you dare not
attack the cause. One Bertrand, head of one of the companies of
butchers, had been elected captain of St. Denis because he had
saved the abbey from the rapacity of a noble Burgundian chieftain,
Hector de Saveuse. The lord, to avenge himself, had the butcher
assassinated. The burgesses went to the duke to demand that the
assassin should be punished; and the duke, who durst neither
assent nor refuse, could only partially cloak his weakness by im-
puting the crime to some disorderly youngsters whom he enabled to
get away. On the 20th of August an angry mob collected in front
of the Chatelet, shouting out that nobody would bring the Armagnacs
to justice, and that they were every day being set at liberty on
payment of money. The great and little Chatelet were stormed^
and the prisoners massacred. The mob would have liked to serve
the Bastille the same ; but the duke told the rioters that he would
give the prisoners up to them if they would engage to conduct
them to the Chatelet without doing them any harm, and, to win
them over, he grasped the hand of their head man who was no other
than Capeluche, the city-executioner. Scarcely had they arrived
at the courtyard of the little Chatelet when the prisoners were
massacred there without any regard for the promise made to the
duke. He sent for the most distinguished burgesses, and consulted
them as to what could be done to check such excesses ; but they
confined themselves to joining him in deploring them. He sent for
the savages once more, and said to them, "You would do far better
to go and lay siege to Montlh^ry, to drive ofi* the king's enemies
who have come ravaging every thing up to the St. Jacques gate
and preventing the harvest from being got in." " Readily," they
answered; "only give us leaders." He gave them leaders, who led
six thousand of them to Montlh^ry. As soon as they were gone,
Duke John had Capeluche and two of his chief accomplices brought
CffAP.XXin.] THE HUNDRED TEARS^ WAR.
293
t<y trial, and Capelaclie was beheaded in the market-place by his own
apprentice. But the gentry sent to the siege of Montlhi'ry did not
t^ke the place; they accused their leaders of baving betrayed tbenij
a^nd returned to be a scourge to the neighbourhood of Paris, overy
T^here saying that the duke of Burgundy was the most iiTesolute
xneii in the kingdoraj and that if there were no nobles the war
•w^ould be ended in a couple of months. Duke John set about
negotiating with the dauphin and getting him back to Paris, The
tlaruphin replied that he was quite ready to obey and serve his
Ptn other as a good son should, but that it would be more than he
eould stomach to go back to a city where so many crimes and so
tniich tyranny had but lately been practised. Terms of reconcUia-
tion were drawn up and signed on the 16th of September, 1418, at
St. Maur, by the queen, the duke of Burgundy, and tho pope's
legates ; but the dauphin refused to ratify them. The unpunished
atid long continued massacres in Paris had redoubled his distrust
t-owards the duke of Burgundy; he bad, moreover, just assumed
tie title of regent of the kingdom; and he had established at
I*oitiers a Parliament, of which Juvenal des TJrsins was a member.
^Be had promised the young count of Armagnac to exact justice for
liis father*s cruel death; and the old friends of the House of
P Orleans remained faithful to their enmities. The duke of Burgundy
liiad at one time to fight, and at another to negotiate with the
dauphin and the king of England, both at once and always without
success- The dauphin and his council, though showing a little
'^ore discretion, were going on in the same alternative and unsatis-
Victory condition. Clearly neither France and England nor the
I Mictions in France had yet exhausted their passions or their
powers; and the day of summary vengeance was nearer than
fhat of real reconciliation.
Nevertheless, complicated, disturbed and persistently resultless
situations always end by becoming irksome to those who are en-
Angled in them and by inspiring a desire for extrication. The
•^ng of England, in spite of his successes and his pride, determined
^pon sending the earl of Warwick to Provins, where the king and
*W duke of Burgimdy still were : a truce was concluded between
tlie English and the Burgundians, and it was arranged that on the
294 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIII.
30th of May, 141 9, the two kings should meet between Mantes and
Melun and hold a conference for the purpose of trying to arrive at
a peace. A few days before the time, Duke John set out from
Provins with the king, Queen Isabel, and Princess Catherine, and
repaired first of all to Pontoise, and then to the place fixed for
the interview, on the borders of the Seine, near Meulan, where two
pavilions had been prepared, one for the king of France and the
other for the king of England. Charles VI., being ill, remained at
Pontoise. Queen Isabel, Princess Catherine, and the duke of
Burgundy arrived at the appointed spot. Henry V. was already
there ; he went to meet the queen, saluted her, took her hand, and
embraced her and Madame Catherine as well ; Duke John slightly
bent his knee to the king, who raised him up and embraced him
likewise. This solemn interview was succeeded by several others
to which Princess Catherine did not come. The queen requested
the king of England to state exactly what he proposed ; and he
demanded the execution of the treaty of Br^tigny, the cession of
Normandy, and the absolute sovereignty, without any bond of
vassalage, of whatever should be ceded by the treaty. A short
discussion ensued upon some secondary questions. There appeared
to be no distant probabiHty of an understanding. The English
boHeved that they saw an inclination on the duke of Burgundy's
part not to hasten to a conclusion and to obtain better conditions
from king Henry by making him apprehensive of a reconciliation
with the dauphin. Henry proposed to him, for the purpose of
ending every thing, a conference between themselves alone ; and
it took place on the 3rd of June. " Cousin," said the king to the
duke, "we wish you to know that we will have your king's daughter
and all that we have demanded with her ; else we will thrust him
out of his kingdom, and you too." " Sir," answered the duke,
'^ you speak according to your pleasure ; but before thrusting my
lord and myself from the kingdom you will have what will tire you,
we make no doubt, and you will have enough to do to keep yourself
in your own island." Between two princes so proud there was
little probability of an understanding; and they parted with no
other result than mutual displeasure.
Some days before, on the 14th of May, 1419, a truce of three
^■-^
■*-■
V
Chap.XXJU.] the hundred YEARS' WAR.
297
months Bad been concluded between the dauphin and the duke of
Burgundy, and was to lead to a conference also between these two
princes. It did not commence before the 8th of July. During
this interval Duke John Lad submitted for the mature deliberation
of his council the question whether it were better to grant the
English demands or become reconciled to the dauphin. Amongst
bis official councillors opinions were divided; but, in his privacy,
tlic? lady of Giac, '* whom he loved and trusted mightily," and Philip
Jossequin, who had at first been Ms chamber-attendant and afler-
wiards custodian of his jewels and of his privy seal, strongly urged
"tkitn to make peace with the dauphin ; and the pope's fresh legate,
I the bishop of Leon, added his exhortations to these home influences,
■ Inhere had been fitted upj at a league's distance from Melun, on the
^ ^Tnbankment of the ponds of Vert, a summer-house of branches
and leaves, hung with drapery and silken stuffs; and there the
I first interview between the two princes took place. The dauphin
I^ft in displeasure; he had found the duke of Burgundy haughty
a-Tid headstrong. Already the old servants of the late duke of
Orleans, impelled by their thirst for vengeance, were saying out
^oud that the matter should be decided by arms, when the lady of
Giac went after the dauphin, who from infancy had also been very
^**uch attached to her, and she, going backwards and forwards
"etween the two princes, was so affectionate and persuasive with
"oth that she prevailed upon them to meet again and to sincerely
"^^ish for an understanding. The next day but one they returned
^o the place of meeting, attended, each of them, by a large body of
^*^*^^n-at-arms* They advanced towards one another with ten men
^^rily and dismounted. The duke of Burgundy went on bended
*^^>i».Ge. The dauphin took him by the hand, embraced liim, and
"^^"cDuld have raised him up, " No, my lord," said the duke; "I
*^^:aow how I ought to address you,'* The dauphin assured him
^«.at he forgave every offence, if indeed he had received any, and
^^(led, " Cousin, if in the proposed treaty between us there be
^-iigkt which is not to your Uking, we desire that you amend it, and
1*^^3Uceforth we will desire all you shall desire; make no doubt of it/'
They conversed for some time with every appearance of cordiality ;
*nd then the treaty was signed. It was really a treaty of recon-
298 HISTORY OF FBANCE. [Chap. XXHI.
ciliation, in which, without dwelling upon " the suspicions and
imaginings which have been engendered in the hearts of ourselves
and many of our oflBcers, and have hindered us from acting with
concord in the great matters of my lord the king and his kingdom,
and resisting the damnable attempts of his and our old enemies,''
the two princes made mutual promises, each in language suitable
to their rank and connexion, " to love one another, support one
another, and serve one another mutually, as good and loyal relatives,
and bade all their servants, if they saw any hindrance thereto, to
give them notice thereof according to their bounden duty/' The
treaty was signed by all the men of note belonging to the houses
of both princes ; and the crowd which surrounded them shouted
"Noel!" and invoked curses on whosoever should be minded
henceforth to take up arms again in this damnable quarrel. When
the dauphin went away, the duke insisted upon holding his stirrup,
and they parted with every demonstration of amity. The dauphin
returned to Touraine and the duke to Pontoise to be near the king,
who, by letters of July 19th, confirmed the treaty, enjoined general
forgetfulness of the past, and ordained that " all war should cease,
save against the English."
There was universal and sincere joy. The peace fulfilled the
requirements at the same time of the public welfare and of national
feeling ; it was the only means of re-establishing order at home
and driving from the kingdom the foreigner who aspired to con-
quer it. Only the friends of the duke of Orleans and of the coimt
of Armagnac, one assassinated twelve years before and the other
massacred but lately, remained sad and angry at not having yet
been able to obtain either justice or vengeance ; but they main-
tained reserve and silence. They were not long in once more
finding for mistrust and murmuring grounds or pretexts which
a portion of the public showed a disposition to take up. The duke
of Burgundy had made haste to publish his ratification of the
treaty of reconciliation ; the dauphin had let his wait. The Pari-
sians were astounded not to see either the dauphin or the duke of
Burgundy coming back within their walls and at being as it were
forgotten and deserted amidst the universal making-up. They
complained that no armed force was being collected to oppose the
Chap. XXIIL] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR, 299
English, and that there was an appearance of flying before them,
leaving open to them Paris, in which at this time there was no
captain of renown. They were still more troubled when on the
29th of July they saw the arrival at the St. Denis gate of a multi-
tude of disconsolate fugitives, some wounded and others dropping
from hunger, thirst, and fatigue. When they were asked who they
were and what was the reason of their desperate condition, " We
are from Pontoise," they said ; " the English took the town this
morning ; they killed or wounded all before them ; happy he
whosoever could escape from their hands ; never were Saracens so
cruel to Christians as yonder folk are." It was a real fact. The
king of England, disquieted at the reconciliation between the duke
of Burgundy and the dauphin and at the ill success of his own
proposals at the conference of the 30th of May preceding, had
vigorously resumed the war, in order to give both the reunited
French factions a taste of his resolution and power. He had
suddenly attacked and carried Pontoise, where the command was
in the hands of the lord of Isle-Adam, one of the most valiant
Burgundian oflBcers. Isle- Adam, surprised and lacking suflBcient
force, had made a feeble resistance. There was no sign of an
active union on the part of the two French factions for the purpose
of giving the English battle. Duke John, who had fallen back
upon Troyes, sent order upon order for his vassals from Burgundy,
but they did not come up. Public alarm and distrust were day by
day becoming stronger. Duke John, it was said, was still keeping
up secret communications with the seditious in Paris and with the
king of England; why did he not act with more energy against this
latter, the common enemy? The two princes in their conference of
July 9th, near Melun, had promised to meet again; a fresh interview
appeared necessary in order to give efficacy to their reconciUation.
Duke John was very pressing for the dauphin to go to Troyes,
where the king and queen happened to be. The dauphin on his
side was earnestly solicited by the most considerable burgesses of
Paris to get this interview over in order to insure the execution of
the treaty of peace which had been sworn to with the duke of
Burgundy. The dauphin showed a disposition to listen to these
entreaties. He advanced as far as Montereau in order to be
300 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXHL
ready to meet Duke John as soon as a place of meeting should
be fixed.
Duke John hesitated, from irresolution evBn more than from
distrust. It was a serious matter for him to commit himself more
and more, by his own proper motion, against the king of England
and his old allies amongst the populace of Paris. Why should he
be required to go in person to seek the dauphin ? It was far
simpler, he said, for Charles to come to the king his father.
Tanneguy Duchatel went to Troyes to tell the duke that the
dauphin had come to meet him as far as Montereau, and, with
the help of the lady of Giac, persuaded him to repair, on his side,
to Bray-sur-Seine, two leagues from Montereau. When the two
princes had drawn thus near, their agents proposed that the
interview should take place on the very bridge of Montereau, with
the precautions and according to the forms decided on. In the
duke's household many of his most devoted servants were opposed
to this interview ; the place, they said, had been chosen by and
would be under the ordering of the dauphin's people, of the old
servants of the duke of Orleans and the count of Armaguac. At
the same time four successive messages came from Paris urging
the duke to make the plunge ; and at last he took his resolution.
"It is my duty," said he, "to risk my person in order to get at so
great a blessing as peace. Wliatever happens, my wish is peace.
If they kill mo, I shall die a martyr. Peace being made, I will take
the men of my lord the dauphin to go and fight the English. He
has some good men of war and some sagacious captains. Tanneguy
and Barbazan are valiant knights. Then we shall see which is the
better man. Jack (Hannotin) of Flanders or Henry of Lancaster."
He set out for Bray on the 10th of September, 1419, and arrived
about two o'clock before Montereau. Tanneguy Duchatel came
and met him there. " Well," said the duke, " on your assurance
we are come to see my lord the dauphin, supposing that he is quite
willing to keep the peace between himself and us as we also will
keep it, all ready to serve him according to his wishes." "My
most dread lord," answered Tanneguy, " have ye no fear; my lord
is well pleased with you and desires henceforth to govern himself
according to your counsels. You have about him good friends
Cbap.XXIU.] the hundred YEARS' WAR.
301
I
trlio serve you welL" It was agi^eed that the dauplim and the duke
sbouldj each from his own side, go upon the bridge of Montereaii,
each with ten meo-at-arms, of whom they should previously for-
ward a Hat* The dauphin's people had caused to be constructed
at the two enda of the bridge strong barriers closed by a gate ;
about the centre of the bridge was a sort of lodge made of planks,
the entrance to which was, on either sidcj through a pretty narrow
passage ; within tho lodge there was no barrier in the middle to
separate tho two parties. Wliilst Duko John and his confidants, in
ooncert with the dauphin's peoplcj were regulating these material
arrangements J a chamber-attendant ran in quite scared, shouting
out, "My lord, look to yourself; without a doubt you will be
l^etrayed/* The duke turned towards Tanneguy, and said, **We
t-rast ourselves to your word ; in God's holy name, are you quite
Sure of what you have told us ? For you would do ill to betray
Us.'* "My most dread lord," answered Tanneguy, "I would rather
lie doad than commit treason against you or any other : have ye no
ftar; I certify you that my lord meanetb you no evil/' "Very
^e!I, we will go then, trusting in God and you," rejoined the duke;
and he set out walking to the bridge. On arriving at the barrier
on the castle side he found there to receive him sire de Beauveau
aid Tanneguy Duchatel. " Come to my lord," said they, *' he is
awaiting you/' " Gentlemen,'* said the duke, " you see how I
coma;" and he showed them that he and his people had only their
fiwords ; then clapping Tanneguy on the shoulder, he said, " Here
u he in whom I trust," and advanced towards the dauphin who
Remained standing, on the town side, at the end of the lodge
Constructed in the middle of the bridge. On arriving at the
prince's presence Duke John took off his velvet cap and bent his
knee to the ground. **My lord," said he, "after God, my duty is to
obey and serve you ; I offer to apply thereto and employ therein
^y body, my friends, my allies, and well- wishers- Say I well ?" he
^^Jdodj fixing his eyes on the dauphin, '* Fair cousin," answered
the prince, *'you say so weU that none could say better; rise and bo
Covereri,*' Conversation thereupon ensued between the two princes,
the dauphin complained of the duke's delay in coming to see him;
"* For eighteen days," he said, ** yon have made us await your
302
HISTOEY OF FRANCE,
[CHAr.XXm.
coming in tbis place of Montoreau, this place a prey to epidemic
and mortality, at the risk of and probably with an eye to our
personal danger." The duke, surprised and troubled, resumed Im
haughty and exacting tone ; "We can neither do nor advise aught,*'
said he, " save in your father's presence; you must come thither.*'
" I shall go when I think proper/' said Charles, **and not at your
will and pleasure ; it is well known that whatever we do, we two
together, the king will be content therewith/' Then he reproaclied
the duke with his inertness against the EngMsh, with the capture
of Pontoise, and with his alHances amongst the promoters of civil
war. The conversation was becoming more and more acrid and
biting, '*In so doing/* added the dauphin, "you were wanting to
your duty." "My lord," replied the duke, **I did only what it
was my duty to do." " Yes, you wei*e wanting/' repeated Charles*
** iVtf,*' replied the duke. It was probably at these words that, tin*
lookers-on also waxing wroth, Tanneguy Duchatel told the duko
that the time had come for expiating the murder of the duke of
Orleans, which none of them had forgotten, and raised bis battle-
axe to strike the duke. Sire de Navailles, who happened to be al
his master's side, arrested the weapon ; but, on the other hand, the
viscount of Narbonne raised his over Navailles, saying, " Whoever
stirs, is a dead man." At this moment, it is said, the mob which
was thronging before the barriers at the end of the bridge heard
cries of " Alarm 1 slay^ slay." Tanneguy had struck and felled
the duke; several others ran their swords into him ; and he expired.
The dauphin had withdrawn from the scene and gone back into tlio
town. After his departure his partisans forced the barrier, ehargi»d
the dumbfounded Burgundians, sent them flying along tlie road to
Bray, and returning on to the bridge would have cast the body of
Duke John, after stripping it, into the river; but the minister uf
Montereau withstood them and had it carried to a mill near thu
bridge. " Next day he was put in a pauper's shell, with nothing
on but his shirt and drawers, and was subsequently interred at the
church of Notre-Dame de Montereau, without winding-sheet and
mthout pall over his grave/'
The enmities of the Orleannese and the Armagnacs had obtained
satisfaction; but they were transferred to the hearts of tlie
Chap. XXHL] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 305
Burgundians. After twelve years of public crime and misfortune
the murder of Louis of Orleans had been avenged ; and should not
that of John of Burgundy be, in its turn ? Wherever the direct
power or the indirect influence of the duke of Burgundy was pre-
dominant, there was a burst of indignation and vindictive passion.
As soon as the count of Charolais, Philip, afterwards called
the Goody heard at Ghent, where he happened at that time to be,
of his father's murder, he was proclaimed duke of Burgundy.
"Michelle," said he to his wife, sister of the dauphin, Charles,
" your brother has murdered my father." The princess burst into
tears ; but the new duke calmed her by saying that nothing could
alter the love and confidence he felt towards her. At Troyes
Queen Isabel showed more anger than any one else against her
son, the dauphin ; and she got a letter written by King Charles VI.
to the dowager duchess of Burgundy, begging her, her and her
children, " to set in motion all their relatives, friends, and vassals to
avenge Duke John." At Paris, on the 12th of September, the next
day but one after the murder, the chancellor, the parliament, the
provost royal, the provost of tradesmen, and all the councillors and
oflBcers of the king assembled, " together with great number of
nobles and burgesses and a great multitude of people," who all
swore " to oppose with their bodies and all their might the enter-
prise of the 'criminal breakers of the peace, and to prosecute the
cause of vengeance and reparation against those who were guilty
of the death and homicide of the late duke of Burgundy." Inde-
pendently of party-passion, such was, in northern and eastern
France, the general and spontaneous sentiment of the people.
The daupliin and his councillors, in order to explain and justify
their act, wrote in all directions to say that, dm-ing the interview,
Duke John had answered the dauphin " with mad words .... He
had felt for his sword in order to attack and outrage our person,
the which, as we have since found out, he aspired to place in sub-
jection .... but, through his own madness, met death instead."
But these assertions found little credence, and one of the two
knights who were singled out by the dauphin to accompany him
on to the bridge of Montereau, sire de Barbazan, who had been a
fidend of the duke of Orleans and of the count of Armagnac, said
VOL. u. X
306 HISTORY OP FRANCK [Chap. XXIU.
vehemently to the authors of the plot, " You have destroyed our
master's honour and heritage, and I would rather have died than
be present at this day's work, even though I had not been there
to no purpose," But it was not long before an event, easy to
foresee, counterbalanced this general impression and restored
credit and strength to the dauphin and his party. Heniy V.,
king of England, as soon as he heard about the murder of Duke
John, set himself to work to derive from it all the advantages he
anticipated. " A great loss," said he, " is the duke of Burgundy ;
he was a good and true knight, and an honourable prince ; but
through his death we are by God's help at the summit of our
wishes. We shall thus, in spite of all Frenchmen, possess dame
Catherine^ whom we have so much desired." As early as the 24th
of September, 1419, Henry V. gave full powers to certain of his
people to treat "with the illustrious city of Paris and the other
towns in adherence to the said city." On the 17th of October
was opened at Arras a congress between the plenipotentiaries of
England and those of Burgundy. On the 20th of November a
special truce was granted to the Parisians, whilst Henry V., in
concert with Duke Philip of Burgundy, was prosecuting the war
against the dauphin. On the 2nd of December the bases were laid
of an agreement between the English and the Burgundians.
The preliminaries of the treaty which was drawn up in accor-
dance with these bases were signed on the 9th of April, 1420,
by King Charles VI., and on the 20th communicated at Paris
by the chancellor of France to the parliament and to all the
religious and civil, royal and municipal authorities of the capital.
After this communication, the chancellor and the premier pre-
sident of parliament went with these preliminaries to Henry V.
at Pontoise, whence he set out with a division of his army for
Troyes, where the treaty, definitive and complete, was at last
signed and promulgated in the cathedral of Troyes, on the 21st
of May, 1420.
Of the twenty-eight articles in this treaty, five contained its
essential points and fixed its character : — 1st. The king of France,
Charles VI. , gave his daughter Catherine in marriage to Henry V.,
king of England. 2nd. '' Our son, King Henry, shall place no
Ci^HAF. XXIIL] THE HUNDKED rEABS" WAR. S07
^rMndrance or trouble in the way of our holding and possessing as
long as we live and as at the present time the crown, the kingly
<ijgnity of France and all the revenueSj proceeds, and profits which
are attached thereto for the maintenance of our state and tlie
ctarges of the kingdom. 3rd, It is agreed that immediately after
our death, and from that time forward, the crown and kingdom of
Fffmce, with all their rights and appurtenances, shall belong
perpetually and shall be continued to our son King Henry and his
h eirs, 4th. Whereas we are, at most times, prevented from advising
by ourselves and from taking part in the disposal of the affairs of our
kingdom, the power and the practice of governing and ordering
the commonweal shall belong and shall be continued, during our
^fe, to our son King Henry, with the counsel of the nobles
and sages of the kingdom who shall obey us and shaU desire
the honour and advantage of the said kingdom* 5th, Our son
King Henry shaU strive with all his might, and as soon as pos-
sible, to bring back to their obedience to us* all and each of
the towns, cities, castles, places, districts, and persons in our
kingdom that belong to the party commonly called of the dauphin
Or Armagnac.'*
This substitution, in the near future, of an English for the French
kingship ; this relinquishment, in the present, of the government
of France to the hands of an English prince nominated to become
1 before long her king; this authority given to the English prince to
P^secute in France, against the dauphin of France, a civil war; this
^mplete abdication of aU the rights and duties of the kingship, of
paternity and of national independence; and, to sum up all in one
^ord, this anti-French state-stroke [iccomplished by a king of
*'i*iince, with the co-operation of him who waii the greatest amongst
^i'l^uch lords, to the advantage of a foreign sovereign — there was
l^u^ely in this enough to excite the most ardent and most legitimate
^*itional feelings. They did not show themselves promptly or with
^ blaze. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, after so many
Military and civil troubles, had great weaknesses and deep-seated
^^rruptiou in mind and character. Nevertheless the revulsion
, Against the treaty of Troyes was real and serious, even in the very
I "ieart of the party attached to the duke of Burgundy. He was
f
308 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXTn,
obliged to lay upon several of his servants formal injunctions to
swear to this peace, which seemed to them treason. He had great
difficulty in winning John of .Luxembourg and his brother Louis,
bishop of Th^rouenne, over to it. " It is your will," said they;
" we will take this oath ; but if we do, we will keep it to the hour
of death." Many less powerful lords, who had lived a long while
in the household of Duke John the Fearless, quitted his son, and
sorrowfully returned to their own homes. They were treated as
Armagnacs, but they persisted in calling themselves good and loyal
Frenchmen. In the duchy of Burgundy the majority of the towns
refused to take the oath to the king of England. The most
decisive and the most helpfiil proof of this awakening of national
feeling was the ease experienced by the dauphin who was one day
to be Charles VII. in maintaining the war which, after the treaty
of Troyes, was, in his father's and his mother's name, made upon
him by the king of England and the duke of Burgundy. This war
lasted more than three years. Several towns, amongst others,
Melun, Crotoy, Meaux, and St. Eiquier, offered an obstinate
resistance to the attacks of the English and Burgundians. On the
23rd of March, 1421, the dauphin's troops, commanded by sire de
la Fayette, gained a signal victory over those of Henry V., whose
brother, the duke of Clarence, was killed in action. It was in
Perche, Anjou, Maine, on the banks of the Loire and in southern
France that the dauphin found most of his enterprising and devoted
partisans. The sojourn made by Henry V. at Paris, in December,
1420, with his wife, Queen Catherine, King Charles VI., Queen
Isabel, and the duke of Burgundy, was not, in spite of galas and
acclamations, a substantial and durable success for him. His
dignified but haughty manners did not please the French ; and he
cither could not or would not render them more easy and amiable,
even with men of note who were necessary to him. Marshal Isle-
Adam one day wont to see liim in camp on war-business. The king
considered that he did not present himself with sufficient ceremony.
'* Isle-Adam," said he, "is that the robe of a marshal of France ?"
*' Sir, I had this whitey-gi'ey robe made to come hither by water
aboard of Seine-boats." " Ha !" said the king, " look you a prince
Chap. XXIII.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 309
in the face when you speak to him ? " " Sir, it is the custom in France
that when one man speaks to anotlier, of whatever rank and
puissance tliat other may be, he passes for a sorry fellow and but
little honourable if he dares not look him in the face." ** It is not
our fashion," said the king; and the subject dropped there. A
popular poet of the time, Alan Chartier, constituted himself censor
of the moral corruption and interpreter of the patriotic paroxysms
caused by the cold and harsh supremacy of this unbending foreigner
who set himself up for king of France and had not one feeling in
sympathy with the French. Alan Chartier's Quadriloge mvectif is
a lively and sometimes eloquent allegory in which France personi-
fied implores her three children, the clergy, the chivalry, and the
people, to forget their own quarrels and unite to save their mother
whilst saving themselves; and this political pamplilet getting
spread about amongst the provinces did good service to the
national cause against the foreign conqueror. An event more
powerful than any human eloquence occurred to give the dauphin
and his partisans earlier hopes. Towards the end of August, 1422.
Henry V. fell ill ; and, too stout-hearted to delude himself as to
his condition, he thought no longer of any thing but preparing
himself for death. He had himself removed to Vincennes, called
his councillors about him, and gave them his last royal instruc-
tions. " I leave you the government of France," said he to his
brother, the duke of Bedford, " unless our brother of Burgundy
have a mind to undertake it ; for, above all things, I conjure you
not to have any dissension with him. If that should happen — God
preserve you from it ! — the affairs of this kingdom which seem
well advanced for us would become bad." As soon as he had
done with politics he bade his doctors tell him how long he had
still to live. One of them knelt down before his bed and said,
" Sir, be thinking of your soul ; it seemeth to us that, saving the
divine mercy, you have not more than two hours." The king
summoned his confessor with the priests, and asked to have recited
to him the penitential psalms. When they came to the twentieth
versicle of the Muerere : TJt cedificeiiUir mtiri Hierusalem {tlmt the
walls of Jerusalem may he built up)^ he made them stop. " Ah !"
310 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXm.
said he, " if God had been pleased to let me live out my time, I
would, after putting an end to the war in Prance, reducing the
dauphin to submission or driving him out of the kingdom in which I
would have established a sound peace, have gone to conquer
Jerusalem. The wars I have undertaken have had the approval of
all the proper men and of the most holy personages ; I commenced
them and have prosecuted them without offence to God or peril to my
soul." These were his last words. The chanting of the psahns was
resumed around him, and he expired on the 31st of August, 1422,
at the age of thirty-four. A great soul and a great king ; but a
great example also of the boundless errors which may be fallen
into by the greatest men when they pursue with arrogant con-
fidence their own views, forgetting the laws of justice and the
rights of other men.
On the 22nd of October, 1422, less than two months after the
death of Henry V., Charles VI., king of France, died at Paris in the
forty-third year of his reign. As soon as he had been buried at
St. Denis, the duke of Bedford, regent of France according to the
will of Henry V., caused a herald to proclaim, " Long live Henry
of Lancaster, king of England and of France ! " The people's
voice made very different proclamation. It had always been said
that the public evils proceeded from the state of illness into which
the unhappy King Charles had fallen. The goodness he had
given glimpses of in his lucid intervals had made him an object of
tender pity. Some weeks yet before his death, when he had
entered Paris again, the inhabitants in the midst of their sufferings
and under the harsh government of the English had seen with joy
their poor mad king coming back amongst them, and had greeted
him with thousand-fold shouts of " Noel !" His body lay in state
for three days, with the face uncovered, in a hall of the hostel of
St. Paul, and the multitude went thither to pray for him, saying,
" Ah I dear prince, never shall we have any so good as thou wert ;
never shall we see thee more. Accursed be thy death ! Since
thou dost leave us, we shall never have aught but wars and
troubles. As for thee, thou goest to thy rest; as for us, we remain
in tribulation and sorrow. We seem made to fall into the same
distress as the children of Israel during the captivity in Babylon."
mSr*
'''^^>>^:f^^S^^^
^ j^fi
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR- CHARLES VII. AND JOAN OF
ARC. 1422— 146U
[ HILST Charles VI. was dying at Paris, liis son CTiarles,
the daupliinj waa on his way back from Saiotouge to
Berry, where he usually resideii On the 24th of October,
1422, at Mebun-sur-Yfe\Tc, he heard of his father's death • For
six days longer, from the 24th to the 29th of October, he took no
style but tliat of regent, as if he were waiting to see what was
going to happen elsewhere in respect of the succession to the
throne. It was only when he knew that, on the 27th of October, the
parliament of Paris had, not without some little hesitation and am-
biguity, recognized **as king of England and of France^ Henry VL,
son of Henry V. lately deceased," that the dauphin Charles assumed
on the 30th of October, in his castle of Mehun-sur-Y^\Te» the title
of king and repaired to Bourges to inaugurate in the cathedral of
that city his reign as Charles VH,
He was twenty years old and had as yet done nothing to gain for
himself, not to say any thing of glory, the confidence and hopea
of the people. Ho passed for an indolent and fnvolous prince,
Chjlp. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 313
abandoned to his pleasures only; one whose capacity there was
nothing to foreshadow and of whom France, outside of his own
court, scarcely ever thought at all. Some days before his accession
he had all but lost his life at Rochelle by the sudden breaking down
of the room in the episcopal palace where he was staying ; and so
little did the country know of what happened to him that, a short
time after the accident, messengers sent by some of his partisans
had arrived at Bourges to inquire if the prince were still
living. At a time when not only the crown of the kingdom but
the existence and independence of the nation were at stake
Charles had not given any signs of being strongly moved by
patriotic feelings. " He was, in person, a handsome prince and
handsome in speech with all persons and compassionate towards
poor folks," says his contemporary Monstrelet ; " but he did not
readily put on his harness, and he had no heart for war if he could
do without it." On ascending the throne, this young prince, so
little of the politician and so little of the knight, encountered at
the head of his enemies the most able amongst the politicians and
warriors of the day in the duke of Bedford, whom his brother
Henry V. had appointed regent of France and had charged to
defend on behalf of his nephew, Henry VI., a child in the cradle,
the crown of France already more than half won. Never did
struggle appear more unequal or native king more inferior to
foreign pretender.
Sagacious observers, however, would have easily discerned in the
cause which appeared the stronger and the better supported many
seeds of weakness and danger. When Philip the Good, duke of
Burgundy, heard at Arras, that Charles VI. was dead, it occurred
to him immediately that if he attended the obsequies of the
English king of France he would be obliged, French prince as he
was and cousin-german of Charles VI., to yield precedence to John,
duke of Bedford, regent of France and uncle of the new king
Henry VI. He resolved to hold aloof and contented himself with
sending to Paris chamberlains to make his excuses and supply his
place with the regent. On the 11th of November, 1422, the duke
of Bedford followed alone at the funeral of the late king of France
and alone made offering at the mass. Alone he went, but with the
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Chap. XXIVO THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR
815
daughter of the great Breton warrior and mistress of a castle hard
hy the scene of action > sent thither her son, Andrew de Laval » a
child twelve years of age, and, as she buckled with her own hands
the sword which his ancestor bad worn^ aha said to him, " God
j]:ia.l£e thee as valiant as he whose sword this was!'* The boy
iroc?eived the order of knighthood on the field of battle, and became
afterwards a marshal of France, Little bands, made up of volun-
t^e^rsj attempted enterprises which the chiefs of the regular armies
ooTisidered impossible* Stephen de Vignolles, celebrated under the
Tiarne of La Hire, resolved to succour the town of Montargis,
biBsieged by the English; and young Dunois, the bastard of Orleans,
joined him- On arriving, September 5th, 1427, beneath the walls
of the place, a priest was encountered in their road. La Hire
^sked him for absolution. The priest told him to confess, '' I
ha^ve no time for that," said La Hire, "I am in a hurry; I have
^one in the way of sins all that men of war are in the habit of doing/'
W^hereupon, says the chronicler, the chaplain gave liim absolution
lOf what it was worth ; and La Hire^ putting his hands together,
^^id, "God, I pray Thee to do for La Hire this day as much as Thou
t^ouldest have La Hire do for Thee if he were God and Thou wert
Hire*" And Montargis was rid of its besiegers. The English
<3etermined to become masters of Mont St. Michel aujieril de la }tiei\
that abbey built on a rock facing the western coast of Normandy
^nd surrounded every day by the waves of ocean. The thirty-
jnd abbot, Robert Jolivet, promised to give the place up to
tfcem and went to Rouen with that design ; but one of his monks,
John Enault, being elected vicar-general by the chapter, and
avipported by some valiant Norman warriors, offered an obstinate
x*^sistance for eight years, bafiQed all the attacks of the English, and
^^■"^tained the abbey in the possession of the king of Fimnco, The
^^totabitants of La Rochelle rendered the same service to the king and
"to France in a more important case. On the 15th of August, 1427|
^^T\ English fleet of a hundred and twenty sail, it is said, appeared off
tlieir city with invading troops aboard* The Rochellese imme-
*3iatoly levied upon themselves an extraordinary tax and put
"•themselves in a state of defence; troops raised in the neighbour-
«ioo(i went and occupied the heights bordering on the coast; and
316 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
a bold Breton sailor, Bernard de Kercabin, put to sea to meet the
enemy, with ships armed as privateers. The attempt of the
English seemed to them to offer more danger than chance of
success ; and they withdrew. Thus Charles VII. kept possession
of the only seaport remaining to the crown. Almost every where
in the midst of a war as indecisive as it was obstinate local
patriotism and the spirit of chivalry successfully disputed against
foreign supremacy the scattered fragments of the fatherland and
the throne.
In order to put an end to this doubtful condition of events and
of minds, the duke of Bedford determined to aim a grand blow at
the national party in France and at her king. After Paris and
Rouen, Orleans was the most important city in the kingdom ; it
was as supreme on the banks of the Loire as Paris and Rouen
were on those of the Seine. After having obtained from England con-
siderable reinforcements commanded by leaders of experience, the
English commenced, in October, 1428, the siege of Orleans. The
approaches to the place wore occupied in force, and bastilles closely
connected one with another were constructed around the walls.
As a set off, the most valiant warriors of France, La Hire, Dunois,
Xaintrailles, and the marshal La Fayette threw themselves into
Orleans, the garrison of which amounted to scarcely twelve
hundred men. Several towns, Bourges, Poitiers, and La Rochelle
sent thither money, munitions, and militia; the states-general,
assembled at Chinon, voted an extraordinary aid ; and Charles VII. •
called out the regulars and the reserves. Assaults on the one side
and sorties on the other were begun with ardour. Besiegers and
besieged quite felt that they were engaged in a decisive struggle.
The first encounter was unfortunate for the Orleannese. In a
fight called the herring affair^ they were unsuccessful in an
attempt to carry off a supply of \dctuals and salt fish which Sir
John Falstolf was bringing to the besiegers. Being a little dis-
couraged, they offered the duke of Burgundy to place their city in
his hands that it might not fall into those of the English ; and
Philip the Good accepted the offer, but the duke of Bedford made
a formal objection : "He didn't care," he said, "to beat the bushes
for another to get the birds." Philip in displeasure withdrew
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 317
from the siege the small force of Burgiindians he had sent. The
English remained alone before the place, which was every day
harder pressed and more strictly blockaded. The besieged were
far from foreseeing what succour was preparing for them.
This very year, on the 6th of January, 1428, at Domremy, a
little village in the valley of the Meuse, between Neufchateau and
Vaucouleurs, on the edge of the frontier from Champagne to
Lorraine, the young daughter of simple tillers-of-the-soil " of good
life and repute, herself a good, simple, gentle girl, no idler, occu-
pied hitherto in sewing or spinning with her mother or driving
afield her parent's sheep and sometimes even, when her father's turn
came round, keeping for him the whole flock of the commune," was
fulfilUng her sixteenth year. It was Joan of Arc, whom all her
neighbours called Joannette. She was no recluse ; she often went
with her companions to sing and eat cakos beside the fountain by
the gooseberry-biishf imder an old beech, which was called the fairy'
tree : but dancing she did not hke. She was constant at church,
she delighted in the sound of the bells, she went often to confession
and communion, and she blushed when her fair friends taxed her
with being too religious. In 1421, when Joan was hardly nine, a
band of Anglo-Burgundians penetrated into her country and trans-
ferred thither the ravages of war. The village of Domremy and
the little town of Vaucouleurs were French and faithful to the
French kingship ; and Joan wept to see the lads of her parish
returning bruised and bleeding from encounters with the enemy.
Her relations and neighbours were one day obliged to take to
flight, and at their return they found their houses biu'nt or
devastated. Joan wondered whether it could possibly be that God
permitted such excesses and disasters. In 1425, on a summer's
day, at noon, she was in her father's little garden. She heard a
voice calling her, at her right side, in the direction of the church
and a great brightness shone upon her at the same time in the
same spot. At first she was frightened, but she recovered herself
on finding that " it was a worthy voice ;" and, at the second call,
she perceived that it was the voice of angels. " I saw them with
my bodily eyes," she said six years later to her judges at Rouen,
" as plainly as I see you ; when they departed from me I wept and
318
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[CttAP. XXIV.
would fiiin have had them take me with them,'* The apparitions
came again and again^ and exhorted her " to go to France for t4)
deliver the kingdom,'* She became dreamy, wrapt in constant
meditation. ** I could endure no longer/* said she at a later
period J " and the time went heavily with me as with a woman in
travail/* She ended by telHng every thing to her father, who
listened to her words anxiously at first and afterwards wrathfully.
He himself cue night dreamed that his daughter had followed tbe
king's men-at-arms to France, and from that moment he kept her
under strict superintendence, '* If I knew of your sister's going,^
he said to his sons, " I would bid you drown her ; and, if you did
not do it, I would drown her myself" Joan submitted : there
was no leaven of pride in her sublimation, and she did not suppos
that her intercourse with celestial voices relieved her from the di
of obeying her parents* Attempts were made to distract her mine
A young man who had courted her was induced to say that be hud
a promise of marriage from her and to claim the fulfilment of it
Joan went before the ecclesiastical judge* made affirmation
she had given no promise and without difficulty gained her cause"
Every body believed and respected her.
In a village hard by Domremy she had an uncle whose wife wa
near her confinement ; she got herself invited to go and nurse her
aunt, and thereupon she opened her heart to her uncle, repeating
to him a popular saying which had spread indeed throughout thu
country : "Is it not said that a woman shall ruin France and a
young maid restore it ?** She pressed liim to take her to Vauron
leurs to sire Robert de Baudncourt, captain of the bailiwick, lb
she wished to go to the daiqthm antl carry assistance to him. Her
uncle gave way, and on the 13th of May, 1428, hedid t^ike her Ui
Vaucouleurs* " I come on behalf of ray Lord,*' said slie to sire de
Baudricourt, 'Ho bid you send word to the dauphin tokeeji himself
well in hand and not give battle to his foes, fur my Lord will
presently give him succour,'* *' Who is thy lord?*' asked Baudri-
court. "The king of Heaven,*' answered Joan. Baudricourt »t*t
her down for mad and urged her uncle to take her back to her
parents ** with a good slap o' the face."
In July, 1428, a fresh invasion of Burgundiaus occurred at
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Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 321
Domremy, and redoubled the popular excitement there. Shortly
afterwards, the report touching the siege of Orleans arrived there.
Joan, more and more passionately possessed with her idea, returned
to Vaucouleurs. " I must go," said she to sire de Baudricourt,
"for to raise the siege of Orleans. I will go, should I have to
wear off my legs to the knee." She had returned to Vaucouleurs
without taking leave of her parents. " Had I possessed," said she,
in 1431, to her judges at Rouen, " a hundred fathers and a
hundred mothers and had I been a king's daughter, I should have
gone." Baudricoiu't, impressed without being convinced, did not
oppose her remaining at Vaucouleurs, and sent an account of this
singular young girl to Duke Charles of Lorraine, at Nancy, and
perhaps even, according to some chronicles, to the king's coiu^t.
Joan lodged at Vaucouleurs in a wheelwright's house, and passed
three weeks there, spinning with her hostess and dividing her time
between work and church. There was much talk in Vaucouleurs
of her and her visions and her purpose. John of Metz [also
called John of Novelompont], a knight serving with sire de
Baudricourt, desired to see her, and went to the wheelwright's.
"What do you here, my dear?" said he; "must the king be
driven from his kingdom and we become English ?" " I am come
hither," answered Joan, " to speak to Robert de Baudricourt, that
lie may be pleased to take me or have me taken to the king ; but
lie pays no heed to me or my words. However, I must be with
the king before the middle of Lent, for none in the world, nor
kings, nor dukes, nor daughter of the Scottish king can recover
the kingdom of France ; there is no help but in me. Assuredly I
would far rather be spinning beside my poor mother, for this other
is not my condition; but I must go and do the work because my
Lord wills that I should do it." "Who is your Lord?" "The Lord
God." " By my faith," said the knight, seizing Joan's hands, " I
will take you to the king, God helping. When will you set out ?"
" Rather now than to-morrow ; rather to-morrow than later."
Vaucouleurs was full of the fame and the sayings of Joan. Another
knight, Bertrand de Poulengy, offered, as John of Metz had, to be
her escort. Duke Charles of Lorraine wished to see her, and sent
for her to Nancy. Old and ill as he was, he had deserted the
VOL. II. Y
322 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap.XXIV:
duchess his wife, a virtuous lady, and was leading any thing btit a
regular life. He asked Joan's advice about his health. "I have no
power to cure you," said Joan, "but go back to your wife and hdp
me in that for which God ordains me." The duke ordered her
four golden crowns, and she returned to Vaucouleiurs thinking of
nothing but her departure. There was no want of confidence and
good will on the part of the inhabitants of Vaucouleurs in for-
warding her preparations. John of Metz, the knight charged to
accompany her, asked her if she intended to make the journey in
her poor red rustic petticoats. " I would like to don man's clothes,"
answered Joan. Subscriptions were made to give her a suitable
costume. She was supplied with a horse, a coat of mail, a lance,
a sword, the complete equipment, indeed, of a man-at-arms ; and a
king's messenger and an archer formed her train. Baudricourfc
made them swear to escort her safely, and on the 25th of February,
1429, he bade her farewell, and all he said was, "Away then,
Joan, and come what may."
Charles VII. was at that time residing at Chinon, in Touraine.
In order to get there Joan had nearly a hundred and fifty leagues
to go, in a country occupied here and there by English and Bur-
gundians and every where a theatre of war. She took eleven
days to do this journey, often marching by night, never giving up
man's dress, disquieted by no difficulty and no danger, and
testifying no desire for a halt save to worship God. " Could we
hear mass daily," said she to her comrades, "we should do
well." They only consented twice, first in the abbey of St. Urban,
and again in the principal church of Auxerre. As they were full
of respect though at the same time also of doubt towards Joan,
she never had to defend herself against their familiarities, but she
had constantly to dissipate their disquietude touching the reahty
or the character of her mission. " Fear nothing," she said to thera,
" God shows me the way I should go ; for thereto was T bom."
On arriving at the village of St. Catherine-de-Fierbois, near Chinon,
she heard three masses on the same day and had a letter written
thence to the king to announce her coming and to ask to see him;
she had gone, she said, a hundred and fifty leagues to come and
tell him things which would be most useful to him. Charles VII.
ciuF. xxrv-]
THE HUNDRED YEAES* WAR.
323
d his councillorg hesitated. The men of war did not like to
I>^eve that a little peasant-girl of Lorraine was coming to bring
the king a more effectual support than their own* Nevertheless
some^ and the most heroic amongst them, Dunois^ La Hire,
^nd ^^intrailles, were moved by what was told of this young girh
The letters of sire de Baudriconi't, though fuU of doubt, suffered a
gleam of something like a serious impression to peep out ; and
'w^by should not the king receive this young girl whom the captain
o£ Vaucouleurs had thought it a duty to send? It would soon be
Been what she was and what she would do, The politicians and
coxirtiers, especially the most trusted of them, George de la
Tr^moille, the king*s favourite, shrugged their shoulders. What
coiild be expected from the dreams of a young peasant-girl of
nineteen ? Influences of a more private character and more dis-
posed toward sympathy — Yolande of Arragon, for instance, queen
^^f Sicily and mother-in-law of Charles VIL, and perhaps also her
■ daughter the young queen, Mary of Anjou, were urgent for the
ting to reply to Joan that she might go to Chinon. She was
Authorized to do so, and on the 6th of March, 1429, she with her
Comrades arrived at the royal residence.
At the very first moment two incidents occiured to still further
lUerease the curiosity of which she was the object. Quite close to
Chinon some vagabonds, it is said, had prepared an ambuscade for
tUe purpose of despoiling her, her and her train. She passed close
by them without the least obstacle. The rumour went that at
her approach they were struck motionless, and had been unable
to attempt their wicked purpose. Joan was rather tall^ well
sliaped, dark, with a look of composure, animation, and gentleness.
A. nian*at-arms, who met her on her way, thought her pretty, and,
"^^nth ^1 impious oath, expressed a coarse sentiment. **Alasr'
^^\i Joan, ** thou blasphemest thy God and yet thou art so near
"tlay death I" He drowned himself, it is said, soon after. Already
ix^pular feeling was 8iu*rounding her marvellous mission with a
b^o of instantaneous miracles.
On her arrival at Chinon she at first lodged with an honest
xainiiy near the castle. For three days longer there was a dehbe-
''^^'on in the council as to whether the king ought to receive her.
321 HISTOEY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
But there was bad news from Orleans. There were no more
troops to send thither and there was no money forthcoming : the
king's treasurer^ it was said, had but four crowns in the chest. K
Orleans were taken, the king would perhaps be reduced to seeking
a refuge in Spain or in Scotland. Joan promised to set Orleans
free. The Orleannese themselves were clamorous for her ; Dunois
kept up their spirits with the expectation of this marvellous
assistance. It was decided that the king should receive her. She
had assigned to her for residence an apartment in the tower of the
Coudray, a block of quarters adjoining the royal mansion, and she
was committed to the charge of William Bellier, an officer of the
king's household, whose wife was a woman of great piety and
excellent fame. On the 9th of March, 1429, Joan was at last
introduced into the king's presence by the count of Vend6me, high
steward, in the great hall on the first story, a portion of the
wall and the fire-place being still visible in the present day. It
It was evening, candle-light; and nearly three hundred knights
were present. Charles kept himself a Httle aloof, amidst a group
of warriors and courtiers more richly dressed than he. According
to some chroniclers, Joan had demanded that " she should not be
deceived, and should have pointed out to her him to whom she was
to speak ;" others affirm that she went straight to the king whom
she had never seen, " accosting him humbly and simply, like a
poor little shepherdess,'' says an eye-witness, and, according to
another account, " making tlie usual bends and reverences as if she
had been brought up at court." Whatever may have been her
outward behaviour, " Gentle dauphin," she said to the king (for
she did not think it right to call him king so long as he was not
crowned), "my name is Joan the maid; the King of Heaven
sendetli you word by me that you shall be anointed and crowned
in the city of Rheims, and shall be Ueutenant of the King of
Heaven, who is king of France. It is God's pleasure that our
enemies the English should depart to their own country ; if they
depart not, evil will come to them, and the kingdom is sure to
continue yours." Charles was impressed without being con-
vinced, as so many others had been before or were, as he was, on
that very day. Ho saw Joan again several times. She did not
C7fiAF, XXIV,] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
325
feelude herself as to the doubts he still entertained. ** Gentle
^L^uphin,'* she said to him one day, ** why do you not belieye
z3Cie ? I say unto you that God hath compassion on yoUj your
kingdom, and your people ; Sk Louis and Charlemagne are kneeling
>>efbre Him, making prayer for you, and I will say unto you, so
please you, a thing which wiU give you to understand that you
ought to believe me*" Charles gave her audience on this occasion
in the presence, according to some accounts, of four witnesses,
tlie most trusted of his intimates, who swore to reveal nothing,
a.xid, according to others, completi^ly alone. ^'What she said to
Ixim there is none who knows," wrote Alan Chartier a short time
after [in July, 1429], "but it is quite cert-ain that he was all
i*adiant with joy thereat as at a revelation from the Holy Spirit/'
M* Wall on J after a scrupulous sifting of evidence, has given the
following exposition of this mysterious interview, " Sire de
Boisy,'* he says, " who was in Ins youth one of the gentlemen-of-
the-bedchamber on the most familiar terms with Charles VII.,
*<»ld Peter Sala, giving the king himself as his authority for the
story, that one day, at the period of his greatest adversity, the
prince, vainly looking for a remedy against so many troubles,
entered in the morning, alone, into his oratory and there, without
uttering a word aloud, made prayer to God from the depths of his
heart that, if he were the true heir, issue of the House of Franca
(and a doubt was possible with such a queen as Isabel of Bavaria),
ajid the kingdom ought justly to be his, God would be pleased to
keep and defend it for him; if not, to give him graco to escape
"without death or imprisonment and find safety in Spain or in
Scotland, where he intended in the last resort to seek a refuge-
TTHs prayer, known to God alone, the Maid recalled to the mind
of Charles VII*, and thus is explained the joy which, as the wit-
nesses say, he testified whilst none at that time knew the cause.
Joan by thi^ revelation not only caused the king to believe in her ;
^te caused him to believe in himself and his right and title ;
^tJjough she never spoke in that way as of her own motion to
*hi3 king, it was always a superior power speaking by her voice, 'I
behalf of my Lord that thou art true heir of Prance
re, by M. Wallon, t. i, p, 32,)
king,'" [/(
eaniie
326 HISTORY OP FRAlfOB. [Chap. XXIV
Whether Charles VII. were or were not convinced by this
interview of Joan's divine mission, he clearly saw that many of
those about him had Kttle or no faith in it, and that other proofs
were required to upset their doubts. He resolved to go to Poitiers,
where his council, the parliament and several learned members of
the University of Paris were in session, and have Joan put to the
strictest examination. When she learned her destination, she
said, " In the name of God, I know that I shall have tough work
there, but my Lord wiU help me. Let us go, then, for God's
sake." On her arrival at Poitiers, on the 11th of March, 1429, she
was placed in one of the most respectable families in the town, that
of John Rabuteau, advocate-general in parliament. The arch-
bishop of Rheims, Reginald de Chartres, chancellor of France, five
bishops, the king's councillors, several learned doctors, and amongst
others Father Seguin, an austere and harsh Dominican, repaired
thither to question her. When she saw them come in, she went
and sat down at the end of the bench and asked them what they
wanted with her. For two hours they set themselves to the task
of showing her " by fair and gentle arguments " that she was not
entitled to belief. " Joan," said William Aimery, professor of
theology, " you ask for men-at-arms, and you say that it is God's
pleasure that the English should leave the kingdom of France and
depart to their own land ; if so, there is no need of men-at-arms,
for God's pleasure alone can discomfit them and force them to
return to their homes." " In the name of God," answered Joan,
" the men-at-arms will do battle and God will give them victory."
Master WiUiam did not urge his point. The Dominican, Seguin,
" a very sour man," says the clu'onicle, asked Joan what language
the voices spoke to her. '' Better than yours," answered Joan.
The doctor spoke the Limousine dialect. " Do you believe in
God?" he asked ill-humouredly. "More than you do," retorted
Joan offended. "Weil," rejoined the monk, "God forbids behef
in you without some sign tending thereto : I shall not give the
king advice to trust men-at-arms to you and put them in peril on
your simple word." " In the name of God," said Joan, " I am not
come to Poitiers to show signs ; take me to Orleans and I will give
you signs of what I am sent for. Let me have ever so few men-at-
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 327
arms given me and I will go to Orleans ;" then, addressing another
of the examiners, Master Peter of Versailles, who was afterwards
bishop of Meaux, she said, " I know nor A nor B ; but in our
Lord's book there is more than in your books ; I come on behalf
of the King of Heaven to cause the siege of Orleans to be raised
and to take the king to Rheims that he may be crowned and
anointed there." The examination was prolonged for a fortnight,
not without symptoms of impatience on the part of Joan. At the
end of it she said to one of the doctors, John Erault, " Have you
paper and ink ? Write what I shall say to you ;" and she dictated
a form of letter which became some weeks later the manifesto
addressed in a more developed shape by her from Orleans to the
English, calling upon them to raise the siege and put a stop to the
war. The chief of those piously and patriotically heroic phrases
were as follows : —
" Jesu Maria,
" King of England, account to the King of Heaven for His blood
royaL Grive up to the Maid the keys of all the good towns you
have taken by force. She is come from God to avenge the blood
royal and quite ready to make peace if you will render proper
account. If you do not so, I am a war-chief; in whatsoever place
I shall fall in with your folks in France, if they be not wilhng to
obey, I shall make them get thence, whether tliey will or not ; and
if they be willing to obey, I will receive them to mercy. . . . The
Maid cometh from the King of Heaven as His representative, to
thrust you out of France ; she doth promise and certify you that
she will make therein such mighty haha [great tumult] that for a
thousand years hitherto in France was never the like. . . . Duke
of Bedford, who call yourself regent of France, the Maid doth pray
you and request you not to bring destruction on yourself; if you
do not justice towards her, she will do the finest deed ever done
in Christendom.
"Writ on Tuesday in the great week" [Easter week, March,
1429]. Subscribed: *^ Hearken to the news from God aiid the
Maid:'
At the end of their examination the doctors decided in Joan's
fSftvour. Two of them, the bishop of Castres^ Gerard Machet, the
328 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CmLP.XXIV.
king's confessor, and Master John Erault, recognized the divine
nature of her mission. She was, they said, the virgin foretold in
the ancient prophecies, notably in those of Merhn ; and the most
exacting amongst them approved of the king's having neither
accepted nor rejected, with levity, the promises made by Joan;
" after a grave inquiry there had been discovered in her," they
said, "naught but goodness, humility, devotion, honesty, simpli-
city. Before Orleans she professes tb be going to show her sign ;
so she must be taken to Orleans, for to give her up without any
appearance on her part of evil would be to fight against the Holy
Spirit, and to become unworthy of aid from God." After the
doctors' examination came that of the women. Three of the
greatest ladies in France, Yolande of Arragon, queen of Sicily;
the countess of Gaucourt, wife of the governor of Orleans ; and
Joan de Mortemer, wife of Robert le Ma^on, baron of Treves, were
charged to examine Joan as to her Ufe as a woman. They found
therein nothing but truth, virtue, and modesty; "she spoke to
them with such sweetness and grace," says the chronicle, "that she
drew tears from their eyes ;" and she excused herself to them for
the dress she wore, and for which the sternest doctors had not
dreamed of reproaching her; "It is more decent," said the arch-
bishop of Embrun, " to do such things in man's dress, since they
must be done along witli men." The men of intelligence at court
bowed down before this village-saint, who was coming to bring to
the king in his peril assistance from God ; the most vaUant men of
war were moved by the confident outbursts of her patriotic
courage ; and the people every where welcomed her with faith and
enthusiasm. Joan had as yet only just appeared, and already she
was the heaven-sent interpretress of the nation's feehng, the hope
of the people of France.
Charles no longer hesitated. Joan was treated, according to
her own expression in her letter to the English, "as a war-chief;"
there were assigned to her a squire, a page, two heralds, a chaplain,
Brother Pasquerel, of the order of the hermit-brotherhood of
St. Augustin, varlets, and serving-folks. A complete suit of
armour was made to fit her. Her two guides, John of Metz and
Bertrand of Poulengy, had not quitted her; and the king continued
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 329
them in her train. Her sword he wished to be supplied by him-
self; she asked for one marked with five crosses; it would be
found, she said, behind the altar in the chapel of St. Catherine-de-
Fierbois, where she had halted on her arrival at Chinon ; and there,
indeed, it was found. She had a white banner made, studded with
lilies, bearing the representation of God seated upon the clouds
and holding in His hand the globe of the world. Above were the
words " Jesu Maria," and below were two angels on their knees in
adoration. Joan was fond of her sword, as she said two years
afterwards at her trial, but she was forty times more fond of
her banner, which was, in her eyes, the sign of her commission
and the pledge of victory. On the completion of the prepara-
tions she demanded the immediate departure of the expedition.
Orleans was crying for succour ; Dunois was sending messenger
after messenger ; and Joan was in a greater hurry than any body
else.
More than a month elapsed before her anxieties were satisfied.
During this interval wo find Charles VII. and Joan of Arc at
Chatelh^rault, at Poitiers, at Tours, at Florent-lfes-Saumur, at
Chinon, and at Blois, going to and fro through all that country to
push forward the expedition resolved upon, and to remove the
obstacles it encountered. Through a haze of vague indications a
glimpse is caught of the struggle which was commencing between
the partisans and the adversaries of Joan, and in favour of or in
opposition to the impulse she was communicating to the war of
nationality. Charles VII.'s mother-in-law, Yolande of Arragon,
queen of SicUy, and the young duke of Alenfon, whose father had
been killed at the battle of Agincourt, were at the head of Joan's
partisans. Yolande gave money and took a groat deal of trouble
in order to promote the expedition which was to go and succour
Orleans. The duke of Alen^on, hardly twenty years of age, was
the only one amongst the princes of the house of Valois who had
given Joan a kind reception on her arrival, and who, together
with the brave La Hire, said that he would follow her whither-
soever she pleased to lead him. Joan in her gratitude called
him the handsome duke^ and exhibited towards him amity and
confidence.
330 HISTORY OP FEANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
But, side by side with these friends, she had an adversary in the
king's favourite, Greorge de la Tr^moille, an ambitious courtier,
jealous of any one who seemed within the range of the king's
favour, and opposed to a vigorous prosecution of the war, since it
hampered him in the policy he wished to keep up towards the duke
of Biu*gundy. To the ill-will of La Tr^mouille was added that of
the majority of courtiers enlisted in the following of the powerful
favoiurite and that of warriors irritated at the importance acquired
at their expense by a rustic and fantastic little adventuress. Here
was the source of the enmities and intrigues which stood in the
way of all Joan's demands, rendered her successes more tardy,
difficult, and incomplete, and were one day to cost her more dearly
stiU.
At the end of about five weeks the expedition was in readiness.
It was a heavy convoy of revictualment protected by a body of ten
or twelve thousand men commanded by marshal de Boussac, and
numbering amongst them Xaintrailles and La Hire. The march
began on the 27th of April, 1429. Joan had caused the removal
of all women of bad character, and had recommended her com-
rades to confess. She took the communion in the open air, before
their eyes; and a company of priests, headed by her chaplain,
Pasquerel, led the way whilst chanting sacred hymns. Great
was the surprise amongst the men-at-arms. Many had words of
mockery on their lips. It was the time when La Hire used to say,
**If God were a soldier, He would turn robber." Nevertheless
respect got the better of habit ; the most honourable were really
touched; the coarsest considered themselves bound to show
restraint. On the 29th of April they arrived before Orleans. But,
in consequence of the road they had followed, the Loire was
between the army and the town ; the expeditionary corps had to
be split in two ; the troops were obliged to go and feel for the
bridge of Blois in order to cross the river ; and Joan was vexed
and surprised. Dunois, arrived from Orleans in a little boat,
urged her to enter the town that same evening. " Are you the
bastard of Orleans?" asked she, when he accosted her. ** Yes;
and I am rejoiced at your coming." " Was it you who gave
counsel for making me come hither by this side of the river and
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 831
not the direct way, over yonder where Talbot and the English
were?" "Yes; such was the opinion of the wisest captains."
" In the name of God, the counsel of my Lord is wiser than yours;
you thought to deceive me, and you have deceived yourselves, for
I am bringing you the best succour that ever had knight, or town,
or city, and that is, the good will of God and succour from the
King of Heaven ; not assuredly for love of me, it is from God
only that it proceeds." It was a great trial for Joan to separate
from her comrades " so well prepared, penitent, and well-disposed;
in their company," said she, " I should not fear the whole power
of the English." She was afraid that disorder might set in
amongst the troops and that they might break up instead of fulfilling
her mission. Dunois was urgent for her to go herself at once into
Orleans with such portion of the convoy as boats might be able to
transport thither without delay. " Orleans," said he, " would
count it for naught, if they received the victuals without the
Maid." Joan decided to go : the captains of her division
promised to rejoin her at Orleans; she left them her chaplain,
Pasquerel, the priests who accompanied him, and the banner
around which she was accustomed to muster them ; and she her-
self, with Dunois, La Hire, and two hundred men-at-arms, crossed
the river at the same time with a part of the supplies.
The same day, at eight p.m., slie entered the city, on horseback,
completely armed, preceded by her own banner and having beside
her Dunois, and beliind her the captains of the garrison and several
of the most distinguished burgesses of Orleans, who had gone out
to meet her. The population, one and all, rushed thronging round
her, carrying torches, and greeting her arrival ^' with joy as great
as if they had seen God come down amongst them. They felt,"
says the Journal of the SiegCy " all of them recomforted and as it
were disbesieged by the divine virtue which they had been told
existed in this simple maid." In their anxiety to approach her, to
touch her, one of their lighted torches set fire to her banner. Joan
disengaged herself with her horse as cleverly as it could have been
done by the most skilful horseman, and herself extinguished the
flame. The crowd attended her to the church whither she desired
to go first of all to render thanks to God, and then to the house of
332 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap.XXIT.
John Boucher, the duke of Orleans' treasurer, where she was
received together with her two brothers and the two gentlemen
who had been her guides from Vaucouleurs. The treasurer's wife
was one of the most virtuous city dames in Orleans, and from this
night forth her daughter Charlotte had Joan for her bedfellow. A
splendid supper had been prepared for her ; but she would merely
dip some slices of bread in wine and water. Neither her enthu-
siasm nor her success, the two greatest tempters to pride in
mankind, made any change in her modesty and simplicity.
The very day after her arrival she would have liked to go and
attack the English in their bastilles, within which they kept
themselves shut up. La Hire was pretty much of her opinion ; but
Dunois and the captains of the garrison thought they ought to
await the coming of the troops which had gone to cross the Loire
at Blois, and the supports which several French garrisons in
the neighbourhood had received orders to forward to Orleans.
Joan insisted. Sire de Gramaches, one of the officers present,
could not contain himself. " Since ear is given," said he, " to the
advice of a wench of low degree rather than to that of a knight like
mo, I will not bandy more words; when the time comes, it shall be
my sword that will speak ; I shall fall perhaps, but the king and
my own honour demand it ; henceforth I give up my banner and am
nothing more tlian a poor esquire. I prefer to have for master a
noble man ratlier than a girl who has heretofore been, perhaps, 1
know not what." lie furled his banner and handed it to Dunois.
Dunois, as sensible as he was brave, would not give heed either to
the clioler of Gamaclies or to the insistance of Joan; and, thanks
to his intervention, they were reconciled on being induced to think
better, respectively, of giving up the banner and ordering an imme-
diate attack. Dunois went to Blois to hurry the movements of the
division which had repaired thither ; and his presence there was
highly necessary, since Joan's enemies, especially the chancellor
Regnault, were nearly carrying a decision that no such reinforcement
should be sent to Orleans. Dunois frustrated this purpose, and
led back to Orleans, l)y way of Beauce, the troops concentrated at
Blois. On the 4th of May, as soon as it was known that he was
coming, Joan, La Hire, and the principal leaders of the city as well
rj^p.xxrvo THE hthstdred yearr^ war.
S33
B»^ of the garriaon went to meet him and re-entered Orleans with
1:1. im and his troops, passing between the bastilles of the English,
^w^lio made not even an attempt to oppose them, "That is the sor-
Jberess yonder/* said some of the besiegers; others asked if it were
qxiite so clear that her power did not come to her from on high ;
a,Tid their commander, the earl of Suffolk, being himself, perhaps,
xm certain J did not like to risk it: doubt produced terrorj and terror
ixi activity. The convoy from Blois entered Orleans j preceded by
PBi-other Pasquerel and the priests, Joan, whilst she was awaiting
it^ sent the English captains a fresh summons to withdraw con-
fi^rmably with the letter which she had already addressed to them
frx>m Blois, and the principal clauses of which were jttst now quoted
H^pe. They replied with coarse insults, calling her strumpet and
C€>w-pTl^ and threatening to burn her when they caught her. She
"W^as very much moved by their insults, in so much as to weep; but
oalling God to witness her innocence she found herself comforted,
a,ti(J expressed it by saying, ^* I have had news from my Lord."
The English had detained the first herald she had sent them ; and
K '^^lien she would have sent them a second to demand his comrade
K back, he was afraid. **In the name of God," said Joan, "they will
H do no harm nor to thee nor to him ; thou shalt tell Talbot to arm
B and I too will arm ; let him show himself in front of the city; if he
«^G take me, let him bum me ; if I discomfit him, let him raise the
siege and let the English get them gone to their own country."
-Tile second herald appeared to be far from reassured ; but Dunois
cJiarged him to say that the English prisoners should answer for what
'^^s done to the heralds from the Maid. The two heralds were sent
^^k, Joan made up her mind to iterate in person to the English
*lie warnings she had given them in her letter* She mounted upon
^tm of the bastions of Orleans, opposite the English bastille called
Toumelles, and there, at the top of her voice, she repeated her
Counsel to them to be gone; else, woe and shame would come
'^^pon them. The commandant of the bastille. Sir William Gladesdale
L^alled by Joan and the French chroniclers Gl(icidas\^ answered
^^^th the usual insults, telling her to go back and mind her cows
^nd alluding to the French as miscreants, "You lie," cried
^oan, ** and in spite of you soon shall ye depart hence; many
334
HISTORY OP FRANCE.
[CsAF. xxrv.
of your people shall be slain; but as for you, you shall not
see it/'
Diinoi^j the very day of his retui'n to OrleanSj after dinner, went
to call upon Joan, and told her that he had heard on luB way that
Sir John Falstolfj the same who on the 12th of the previous
February had beaten the French in the Hmmiig affair^ was about to
atTire with reinforcements and supplies for the besiegers- ** Bastard,
bastard/' said Joan^ **in the name of God I command thee^ m soon
as thou shalt know of this FaHCofe comings to liave me warned of
it, for, should he pass without my knowing of it, I promise thee
that I will have thy head cut off.** Dunois assured her that she
should be warned, Joan was tired with the day's excitement ; she
threw herself upon her bed to sleep, but unsuccessfiilly ; all at onoo
she said to sire Daulon, her esquircj '*My counsel doth tell mo to go
against the English; but I know not whether against their bastilles
or against this Fascot. I must arm.*^ Her esquire was beginning
to arm her when she heard it shouted in the street that the enemy
were at that moment doing great damage to the Frenchp "My
God,'* said she, "the blood of our people is running on the ground ;
why was I not awakened sooner? Ah! it was lQ done! . . - My arms!
My arms ! my horse V* LeaTing behind lier esquire, who was not
yet armedj she went down. Her page was playing at the door ;
" Ah ! naughty boy,*' said she, " not to come and tell me that the
blood of France was being shed I Come! quick! my horse I** It was
brought to her; she bade them hand down to her by the window
her banner, which she had left behind, and, without any further
waiting, she departed and went to the Burgundy gate whence the
noise seemed to come. Seeing on her way one of the townsmen
passing who was being carried off wounded, she said, " Alas ! I
never see a Frenchman's blood but my hair stands up on my head I*'
It was some of the Orleannese themselves who, without consulting
their chiefs, had made a sortie and attacked the bastille St. Loup,
the strongest held by the English on this side. The French had
been repulsed, and were falHng back in flight when Joan came up,
and soon after her Dunois and a throng of men-at-arms who had
been warned of the danger. The fugitives returned to the assault;
the battle was renewed with ardour ; the bastille of St. Loup,
Chap, XXIVO THE HUNDRED TEAES' WAR.
335
notwithstanding energetic resistance on the part of the English
who manned it, was taken ; and all its defenders were put to the
sword before Talbot and the main body of tlie besiegers could
come up to their assistance. Joan showed sorrow that so many
people should have died unconfessed ; and she herself was the
means of saving some who had disguised themselves as priests
in gowns which they had taken from the church of St. Loup.
Great was the joy in Orleans, and the enthusiasm for Joan was
more Hvely tlian ever, " Her voices had warned her," they said,
"and apprised her that there was a battle; and then she had
found by herself alone and without any guide the way to the
Burgundy gate." Men-at-arms and burgesses all demanded that
tlie attack upon the English bastilles should be resumed; but the
next day, the Sth of May, was Ascension-day • Joan advocated
pious repose on this holy festival, and tlie general feeling was in
accord with her own. She recommended her comrades to fulfil
their religious duties and she herself received the communion.
The chiefs of the besieged resolved to begin on the morrow a
oombined attack upon the English bastilles which surrounded the
J)lace ; but Joan was not in their counsels. ** Tell me what you
tave resolved,'* she said to them ; ** I can keep this and greater
Secrets/* Dunois made her acquainted with the plan adopted, of
"which she fully approved ; and on the mon'ow, the 6th of May, a
fierce struggle began again all round Orleans, For two days the
l^astilles erected by the besiegers against the place were repeatedly
attacked by the besieged. On the first day Joan was slightly
wounded in the foot. Some disagreement arose between her and
sira da Gaucourt, governor of Orleans, as to continuing the
struggle ; and John Boucher, her host, tried to keep her back the
iecond day, ** Stay and dine with us/' said he, '*to eat that shad
which has just been brought." " Keep it for supper," said Joan;
"I will come back this evening and bring you some goddam
(Eoglishman) or other to eat his shai-e;'* and she salHed forth,
^er to return to the assault. On arri\ang at the Burgundy gate
Ae found it closed; the governor would not allow any sortie
thereby to attack on that side- "Ah I naughty man," said Joan,
*'you are wrong j whether you will or no, our men-at-arms shall
330
BISTORT OF FRANCE,
[Chap, XXIT.
go and win on this daj as they have already won/* The gate
was forced ; and men-at-arms and burgesses rushed out fi'om all
quarters to attack the bastille of Toumelles, the strongest of the
English works. It was ten o'clock in the morning; the passive
and active powers of both parties were concentrated on this pointi
and for a moment the French appeared weary and downcast, Joan
took a scaling-ladder, set it against the rampart, and was the first
to mount. There came an arrow and struck her between neck
and shoulder, and she fell. Sire de Gamaches, who had but lately
displayed so much temper towards her, found her where she lay»
" Take my horse," said he, *' and bear no malice ; I was
wrong; I had formed a false idea of you/* ** Tes," said Joan^
**and bear no malice : I never saw a more accomplished knight/'
She was taken away and had her armour removed. The arrow, it
is said, stood out almost half-a-foot behind, There waa an instant
of feintness and tears ; but she prayed and felt her strength
renewed, and pulled out the arrow with her own hand. Some one
proposed to her to charm the wound by means of cabalistic
words; but *'I would rather die," she said, "than so sin ag^nst
the win of God. I know fiill well that I must die some day ; but
I know nor where nor when nor how. If, without em, my wound
may be healed, I am right willing," A dressing of oil and lard
was applied to the wound ; and she retired apart into a rineyard
and was continually in prayer, ratigue and discouragement were
overcoming the French ; and the captains ordered the retreat to bo
sounded. Joan begged Dunois to wait a while. " My God," said
she, " we shall soon be inside. Give your people a little rest ; eat
and drink." She resumed her arms and remounted her horso; her
banner floated in the air ; the French took fresh courage ;
English J who thought Joan half dead, were seized vrith iiur
and fear ; and one of their principal leaders. Sir WiUiam Gladesc
made up his mind to abandon the outwork which he had hither
so well kept, and retire within the bastille itself. Joan pereeivol
liis movement. *^ Yield thee," she shouted to him from afar ;
"yield thee to the King of Heaven! Ah! Glacidas, thou I
basely insulted me ; but I have great pity on the souls of then man
thine." The EngHshman continued his retreat. Whilst he was
F
AP. XXIY.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 339
po-ssJngovertlie drawbridge which reached from the outwork to the
tj^tstille, a shot fi'om the side of Orleans broke down the bridge ;
Gla/lesdale felt into the water and was drowned, together with
fci.»ny of his comrades ; the French got into the bastille without
Lxiy fresh fighting ; and Joan re-entered Orleans amidst the joy
Lnd acclamations of the people. The bells rang all through the
night; and the Te Demn was chanted. The day of combat was
(bliout to be succeeded by the day of deliverance^
On the morrow, the 8th of May, 1429, at day-break, the English
onders drew up their troops close to the very moats of the city and
seetned to offer battle to the French, Many of the Orleannege
|[leaders would have liked to accept this challenge; but Joan got
Tip from her bed where she was resting because of her wound, put
on a light suit of armour and ran to the city^gates. " For the love
_ and honour of holy Sunday," said she to the assembled warriors,
I ** do not be the first to attack and make to them no demand ; it is
■ GrDd*s good will and pleasure that they be allowed to get them gone
I if they be minded to go away ; if they attack you, defend your-
" Selves boldly; you will be the masters/' She caused an altar to
be raised; thanksgivings were sung and mass was celebrated.
** See,'* said Joan, " are the English turning to you their faces or
Verily their backs ?'* They had commenced their retreat in good
Order with standards flying, ^* Let them go : my Lord willeth not
tliat there be any fighting to-day ; you shall have them another
time," The good words spoken by Joan were not so preventive
but that many men set off to pursue the English and cut off
stragglers and baggage. Their bastilles were found to be full of
victual and munitions; and they had abandoned their sick and
many of their prisoners. The siege of Orleans was raised*
The day but one after this deliverance Joan set out to go and
rejoin the king and prosecute her work at his side* She feU in
with him on the 13th of May, at Tours, moved forward to meet
Mm, with her banner in her hand and her head uncovered, and
bending doim over her charger's neck, made him a deep obeisance*
Qjarles took off his cap, held out his hand to her, and " as it seemed
to many," says a contemporary chronicler, '^ he would fain have kissed
^% for the joy that he felt*" But the king's joy was not enough
z 2
340 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
for Joan. She urged him to march with her against enemies who
were flying, so to speak, from themselves, and to start without
delay for Rheims, where he would be crowned. " I shall hardly
last more than a year," said she ; "we must think about working
right well this year, for there is much to do." Hesitation was
natural to Charles, even in the hour of victory. His favourite.
La Trdmoille, and his chancellor, the archbishop of Rheims, opposed
Joan's entreaties with all the objections that could be devised under
the inspiration of their ill-will: there were neither troops nor money
in hand for so great a journey ; and council after council was held
for the purpose of doing nothing. Joan in her impatience went
one day to Loches, without previous notice, and tapped softly at
the door of the king's privy chamber (chambre de retraif). He
bade her enter. She fell upon her knees, saying, "Gentle dauphin,
hold not so many and such long councils, but rather come to
Rheims and there assume your crown ; I am much pricked to take
you thither." " Joan," said the bishop of Castres, Christopher
d'Harcourt, the king's confessor, " cannot you tell the king what
pricketh you ?" " Ah ! I see," replied Joan with some embarrass-
ment : " well; I will tell you. I had set me to prayer according to
my wont, and I was making complaint for that you would not
believe what I said ; then the voice came and said unto me, * Go,
go, my daughter; I will be a help to thee; go.' When this voice
comes to me, I feel marvellously rejoiced ; I would that it might
endure for ever." She was eager and overcome.
Joan and her voices were not alone in urging the king to shake
off his doubts and his indolence. In church and court and army
allies were not wanting to the pious and valiant maid. In a written
document dated the 14th of May, six days after the siege of Orleans
was raised, the most Christian doctor of the age, as Gerson was
called, sifted the question whether it were possible, whether it were
a duty to believe in the Maid. " Even if (which God forbid),"
said he, " she should be mistaken in her hope and ours, it would
not necessarily follow that what she does comes of the evil spirit
and not of God, but that rather our ingratitude was to blame. Let
the party which hath a just cause take care how, by incredulity or
injustice, it rendereth useless the divine succour so miraculously
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 341
manifested, for God, without any change of counsel, changeth the
upshot according to deserts." Great lords and simple gentlemen, old
and young warriors, were eager to go and join Joan for the salvation
of the king and of France. The constable, De Richemont, banished
from the court through the jealous hatred of George la Tr^moille,
made a pressing application there, followed by a body of men-at-
arms ; and, when the king refused to see him, he resolved, though
continuing in disgrace, to take an active part in the war. The
young duke of Alenfon, who had been a prisoner with the English
since the battle of Agincourt, hurried on the payment of his
ransom in order to accompany Joan as lieutenant-general of the
king in the little army which was forming. His wife, the duchess,
was in grief about it. "We have just spent great sums," said she,
** in buying him back from the English ; if he would take my
advice, he would stay at home." " Madame," said Joan, " I will
bring him back to you safe and sound, nay even in better content-
ment than at present ; be not afraid." And on this promise the
duchess took heart. Du Guesclin's widow, Joan de Laval, was
still living; and she had two grandsons, Guy and Andrew de
Laval, who were amongst the most zealous of those taking service
in the army destined to march on Rheims. The king to all ap-
pearance desired to keep them near his person. " God forbid
that I should do so," wrote Guy de Laval, on the 8th of June,
1429, to those most dread dames, his grandmother and his mother;
" my brother says, as also my lord the duke d'Alen^on, that a good
riddance of bad rubbish would he be who should stay at home."
And he describes his first interview with the Maid as follows.
" The king had sent for her to come and meet him at Selles-en-
Berry. Some say that it was for my sake, in order that I might
see her. She gave right good cheer (a kind reception) to my
brother and myself; and after we had dismounted at Selles I went
to see her in her quarters. She ordered wine, and told me that
she would soon have me drinking some at Paris. It seems a
thing divine to look on her and listen to her. I saw her
mount on horseback, armed all in white armour, save her head,
and with a little axe in her hand, on a great black charger, which,
at the door of her quarters was very restive and would not let her
342 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
mount. Then said she, *Lead him to the cross/ which was in front
of the neighboming chm^ch, on the road. There she mounted him
without his moving and as if he were tied up ; and turning towards
the door of the church, which was very nigh at hand, she said, in
quite a womanly voice, * You, priests and churchmen, make proces-
sion and prayers to God.' Then she resumed her road, saying,
* Push forward, push forward.' She told me that three days before
my arrival she had sent you, dear grandmother, a little golden
ring, but that it was a very small matter and she would have liked
to send you something better, having regard to your estimation."
It was amidst this burst of patriotism and with aU these valiant
comrades that Joan recommenced the campaign on the 10th of
June, 1429, quite resolved to bring the king to Rheims. To com-
plete the deliverance of Orleans an attack was begun upon the
neighbouring places, Jargeau, Meung, and Beaugency. Before
Jargeau, on the 12th of June, although it was Simday, Joan had
the trumpets sounded for the assault. The duke d' Alen^on thought
it was too soon. "Ah!" said Joan, "be not doubtful, it is the
hour pleasing to God; work ye and God will work; " and she added
familiarly, "Art thou afeard, gentle duke ? Knowest thou not that
I have promised thy wife to take thee back safe and sound ?" The
assault began ; and Joan soon had occasion to keep her promise.
The duke d' Alenfon was watching the assault from an exposed spot,
and Joan remarked a piece pointed at this spot. " Get you hence,"
said she to the duke ; " yonder is a piece which will slay you."
The duke moved, and a moment afterwards sire de Ludo was
killed at the self-same place by a shot from the said piece. Jargeau
was taken. Before Beaugency a serious incident took place. The
constable De Richemont came up with a force of 1200 men. When
he was crossing to Loudun, Charles VII., swayed as ever by the
jealous La Trdmoille, had word sent to him to withdraw, and that
if he advanced he would be attacked. " What I am doing in the
matter," said the constable, " is for the good of the king and the
realm; if any body comes to attack me, wo shall see." When he
had joined the army before Beaugency, the duke d'Alenfon was
much troubled. The king's orders were precise, and Joan herself
hesitated. But news came that Talbot and the English were
chap.xxivo the hundred yeaes' war
approaching. "Now/* said Joan, **we must tlimk no more of
any thing but helping one another." She rode forward to meat
the constable, and saluted Mm comteously, '* Joan," said he, "I
was told that you meant to attack me ; I know not whether you
come from God or not; if you are from God, I fear you not at all,
for God knows my good will ; if you are from the devil j I fear you
BtUl less." He remained, and Beaugeocy was taken. The English
army came np. Sir John Falstolf had joined Talbot- Some dis-
quietude showed itself amongst the French, so roughly handled for
Bome time past in pitched battles. ** Ah ! fair constable," said
Joan to Richemont, " you are not come by my orders, but you are
right welcome/* The duke d^Alengon consulted Joan as to what
was to be done, " It will be well to have horses," was suggested
by those about her. She asked her neighbours, " Hare you good
spurs ?*' *' Ha!" cried they, '* must we fly then ?" " No, surely,"
replied Joan : *'but there will be need to ride boldly; we shall give
a good account of the Enghsh, and our spurs will serve us famously
in pursuing them/' The battle began on the 18th of June at
Patay, between Orleans and Chftteaudun, By Joan's advice the
French attacked. " In the name of God," said she, " we must
fight. Though the English were suspended from the clouds, we
should have them, for God hath sent us to punish them. The
gentle Idng shall have to-day the greatest victory he has ever had ;
my counsel hath told me they are ours," The English lost
heart in their turn; the battle was short and the victory
brilliant ; Lord Talbot and the most part of the English captains
remained prisoners. " Lord Talbot,*' said the duke d'AIen?on to
him ; ** this is not what you expected this morning," " It is
the fortune of war," answered Talbot, with the cool dipiity of an
old warrior, Joan's immediate return to Orleans was a triumph ;
but even triumph has its embarrassments and perils. She de-
manded the speedy march of the array upon Rheims, that the king
might bo crowned there without delay; but objections were raised
on all sides, the objections of the timid and those of the jealous,
** By reason of Joan the Maid," says a contemporary chronicler,
** so many folks came from aD parts unto the king for to serve him
at their own expense, that La Trdmoille and others of the council
344 . HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
were much wroth thereat through anxiety for their own persons."
Joan, impatient and irritated at so much hesitation and intrigue,
took upon herself to act as if the decision belonged to her. On
the 25th of June she wrote to the inhabitants of Toumai : " Loyal
Frenchmen, I do pray and require you to be aU ready to come to
the coronation of the gentle King Charles, at Rheims, where we
shall shortly be, and to come and meet us when ye shall learn that
we are approaching." Two days afterwards, on the 27th of June,
she left Gien, where the court was, and went to take tip her
quarters in the open country with the troops. There was nothing
for it but to follow her. On the 29th of June, the king, the coiuii
(including La Trdmoille), and the army, about 12,000 strong, set
out on the march for Rheims. Other obstacles were encountered
on the road. In most of the towns the inhabitants, even the
royaUsts, feared to compromise themselves by openly pronoimcing
against the English and the duke of Burgundy. Those of Auxerre
demanded a truce, oflFering provisions, and promising to do as
those of Troyes, Chalons, and Rheims should do. At Troyes the
difficulty was greater still. There was in it a garrison of five or
six hundred English and Burgundians who had the burgesses
under their thumbs. All attempts at accommodation failed. There
was great perplexity in the royal camp ; there were neither provi-
sions enough for a long stay before Troyes, nor batteries and
siege-trains to carry it by force. There was talk of turning back.
One of the king's councillors, Robert le Mafon, proposed that Joan
should be summoned to the council. It was at her instance that
the expedition had been undertaken ; she had great influence
amongst the army and the populace ; the idea ought not to be
given up without consulting her. Wliilst he was speaking, Joan
came knocking at the door ; she was told to come in ; and the
chancellor, the archbishop of Rheims, put the question to her.
Joan, turning to the king, asked him if he would believe her.
" Speak," said the king, " if you say what is reasonable and tends
to profit, readily will you be beKeved." " Gentle king of Finance,"
said Joan, " if you be willing to abide here before your town of
Troyes, it shall be at your disposal within two days, by love or by
force; make no doubt of it." "Joan," replied the chancellor.
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS^ WAR. 345
" whoever could be certain of having it within six days might well
wait for it ; but say you true ?" Joan repeated her assertion; and
it was decided to wait. Joan mounted her horse, and, with her
banner in her hand, she went through the camp, giving orders
every where to prepare for the assault. She had her own tent
pitched close to the ditch, " doing more," says a contemporary,
" than two of the ablest captains would have done." On the next
day, July 10th, all was ready. Joan had the fascines thrown into
the ditches and was shouting out* "Assault T* when the inhabitants
of Troyes, burgesses, and men-at arms, came demanding permission
to capitulate. The conditions were easy. The inhabitants obtained
for themselves and their property such guarantees as they desired ;
and the strangers were allowed to go out with what belonged to
them. On the morrow, July 11th, the king entered Troyes with
aU his captains, and at his side the Maid carrying her banner. All
the difficulties of the journey were surmounted. On the 15th of
July the bishop of Chalons brought the keys of his town to the king,
who took up his quarters there. Joan found there four or five of her
own villagers who had hastened up to see the young girl of Dom-
remy in all her glory. She received them with a satisfaction in
which famiharity was blended with gi'avity. To one of them, her
godfather, she gave a red cap which she had worn; to another, who
had been a Burgundian, she said, "I fear but one thing — treachery."
In the duke d'Alengon's presence she repeated to the king, *'Make
good use of my time, for I shall hardly last linger than a year."
On the 16th of July King Charles entered Rheims, and the cere-
mony of his coronation was fixed for the morrow.
It was solemn and emotional as are all old national traditions
which recur after a forced suspension. Joan rode between Dunois
and the archbishop of Rheims, chancellor of France. • The air
resounded with the Te Deum sung with all their hearts by clergy
and crowd. *'In God's name," said Joan to Dunois, "here is a good
people and a devout; when I die, I should much like it to be in these
parts." " Joan," inquired Dunois, " know you when you will die
and in what place ?" *' I know not," said she, " for I am at the
will of God." Then she added, " I have accomplished that which
my Lord commanded me, to raise the siege of Orleans and have
346 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
the gentle king crowned. I would like it well if it should please
Him to send me back to my father and mother, to keep their sheep
and their cattle and do that which was my wont." " When the
said lords," says the chronicler, an eye-witness, "heard these
words of Joan who, with eyes towards heaven, gave thanks to Grod,
they the more believed that it was somewhat sent from God and
not otherwise."
Historians and even contemporaries have given much discussion
to the question whether Joan of Arc, according to her first ideas,
had really limited her design to the raising of the siege of Orleans
and the coronation of Charles VII. at Bheims. She had said so
herself several times, just as she had to Dunois at Rheims on the
17th of July, 1429 ; but she sometimes also spoke of more vast and
varied projects, as, for instance, driving the English completely
out of France and withdrawing from his long captivity Charles,
duke of Orleans. He had been a prisoner in London ever since
the battle of Agincourt, and was popular in his day, as he has
continued to be in French history, on the double ground of having
been the father of Louis XII. and one of the most charming poets
in the ancient literature of France. The duke d' Alenfon, who was
so high in the regard of Joan, attributed to her more expressly
this quadruple design : " She said," according to him, " that she
had four duties; to get rid of the English, to have the king
anointed and crowned, to deliver Duke Charles of Orleans, and to
raise the siege laid by the English to Orleans." One is inclined to
believe that Joan's language to Dunois at Rheims in the hour of
Charles VII. 's coronation more accurately expressed her first idea;
the two other notions occurred to her naturally in proportion as
her hopes as well as her power kept growing greater with success.
But however lofty and daring her soul may have been, she had
a simple and not at all a fantastic mind. She may have foreseen
the complete expulsion of the English, and may have desired the
deliverance of the duke of Orleans, without having in the first
instance premeditated any thing more than she said to Dunois
during the kings's coronation at Rheims, which was looked upon
by her as the triumph of the national cause.
However that may be, when Orleans was relieved and Charles VU.
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 347
crowned, the situation, posture, and part of Joan underwent a
change. She no longer manifested the same confidence in herself
and her designs. She no longer exercised over those in whose
midst she lived the same authority. She continued to carry on
war, but at hap-hazard, sometimes with and sometimes without
success, just like La Hire and Dunois; never discouraged, never
satisfied, and never looking upon herself as triumphant. After the
coronation, her advice was to march at once upon Paris, in order
to take up a fixed position in it, as being the political centre of the
realm of which Rheims was the religious. Nothing of the sort was
done. Charles and La Tr^moille once more began their course of
hesitation, tergiversation, and changes of tactics and residence
without doing any thing of a public and decisive character. They
negotiated with the duke of Burgundy in the hope of detaching
him from the English cause ; and they even concluded with him
a secret, local, and temporary truce. From the 20th of July to
the 23rd of August Joan followed the king whithersoever he went,
to Chateau-Thierry, to Senhs, to Blois, to Provins, and to Com-
pifegne, as devoted a^ ever but without having her former power.
She was still active, but not from inspiration and to obey her
voices, simply to promote the royal policy. She wrote the duke of
Burgundy a letter ftdl of dignity and patriotism, which had no
more efifect than the negotiations of La Tr^Jmoille. During this
fruitless labour amongst the French the duke of Bedford sent for
5000 men from England, who came and settled themselves at
Paris. One division of tliis army had a white standard, in the
middle of which was depicted a distafi* ftiU of cotton ; a half-filled
spindle was hanging to the distaff, and the field studded with
empty spindles bore this inscription, ** Now, fair one, come ! " ^
Insult to Joan was accompanied by redoubled war against France.
Joan, saddened and wearied by the position of things, attempted
to escape from it by a bold stroke. On the 23rd of August, 1429,
she set out from Compifegne with the duke d' Alenyon and " a fair
company of men-at-arms ;" and suddenly went and occupied St.
Denis, with the view of attacking Paris. Charles VII. felt himself
obliged to quit Compifegne likewise, "and went, greatly against
the grain," says a contemporary chronicler, "as fer as into the
348 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
town of Senlis." The attack on Paris began vigorously. Joan,
with the duke d' Alenfon, pitched her camp at La Chapelle. Charles
took up his abode in the abbey of St. Denis. The municipal
corporation of Paris received letters with the arms of the duke
d'Alen^on which called upon them to recognize the king's authority
and promised a general amnesty. The assault was delivered on
the 8th of September. Joan was severely wounded, but she insisted
upon remaining where she was. Night came, and the troops had
not entered the breach which had been opened in the morning.
Joan was still calling out to persevere. The duke d'Alengon him-
self begged her, but in vain, to retire. La Trdmoille gave orders
to retreat ; and some knights came up, set Joan on horseback and
led her back, against her will, to La Chapelle. " By my martin "
(staflF of command), said she, " the place would have been taken."
One hope still remained. In concert with the duke d'Alen^on she
had caused a flying bridge to be thrown across the Seine opposite
St. Denis. The next day but one she sent her vanguard in this
direction ; she intended to return thereby to the siege ; but, by the
king's order, the bridge had been cut adi'iffc. St. Denis fell once
more into the hands of the English. Before leaving Joan left
there, on the tomb of St. Denis, her complete suit of armour and a
sword she had lately obtained possession of at the St. Honor^ gate
of Paris, as trophy of war.
From the 13th of September, 1429, to the 24th of May, 1430, she
continued to lead the same Ufe of efforts ever equally valiant and
equally ineffectual. She failed in an attempt upon La Charite-sin*-
Loire, undertaken, for all that appears, with the sole design of
recovering an important town in the possession of the enemy.
The English evacuated Paris and left the keeping of it to the duke
of Burgundy, no doubt to test his fidelity. On the 15th of April,
1430, at the expiration of the truce he had concluded, Philip the
Good resumed hostilities against Charles VIL Joan of Arc once
more plunged into them with her wonted zeal. Ile-de-France and
Picardy became the theatre of war. Compiegne was regarded as
the gate of the road between these two provinces ; and the duke of
Burgundy attached much importance to holding the key of it.
The authority of Charles VIL was recognized there ; and a young
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS^ WAR. 349
knight of Compifegne, William de Flavy, held the command there
as lieutenant of La Tr^moille, who had got himself appointed cap-
tain of the town. La Trc^moille attempted to treat with the duke
of Burgundy for the cession of Compifegne ; but the inhabitants
were strenuously opposed to it. " They were," they said, *' the
king's most humble subjects, and they desired to serve him with
body and substance; but as for trusting themselves to the lord
duke of Burgundy, they could not do it; they were resolved to
suffer destruction, themselves and their wives and children, rather
than be exposed to the tender mercies of the said duke."
Meanwhile Joan of Arc, after several warlike expeditions in the
neighbourhood, re-entered Compifcgne, and was received there with
a popular expression of satisfaction. " She was presented," says
a local chronicler, " with three hogsheads of wine, a present which
was large and exceeding costly, and which showed the estimate
formed of this maiden's worth." Joan manifested the profound
distrust with which she was inspired of the duke of Burgundy.
" There is no peace possible with him," she said, " save at the
point of the lance." She had quarters at the house of the king's
attorney, Le Boucher, and shared the bed of his wife Mary. " She
often made the said Mary rise from her bed to go and warn the
said attorney to be on his guard against several acts of Bur-
gundian treachery." At this period, again, she said, she was often
warned by her voices of what must happen to her ; she expected
to be taken prisoner before St. John's or Midsummer day (June 24);
on what day and hour she did not know ; she had received no in-
structions as to sorties from the place; but she had constantly
been told that she would be taken, and slie was distrustful of the
captains who were in command there. She was, nevertheless, not the
less bold and enterprising. On the 20th of May, 1430, the duke of
Burgundy came and laid siege to Compifegne. Joan was away on
an expedition to Cr^py in Valois with a small band of three or four
hundred brave comrades. On the 24th of May, the eve of
Ascension-day, she learned that Compifegne was being besieged, and
she resolved to re-enter it. She was reminded that her force was a
very weak one to cut its way through the besiegers' camp. " By
my martin^'' said she, " we are enough ; I will go see my friends in
350 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
Compifegne." She arrived about day-break without hindrance and
penetrated into the town ; and repaired immediately to the parish
chijrch of St. Jacques to perform her devotions on the eve of so
great a festival. Many persons attracted by her presence, and
amongst others " from a hundred to six score children," thronged
to the church. After hearing mass and herself taking the com-
munion Joan said to those who surrounded her, " My children and
dear friends, I notify you that I am sold and betrayed, and that I
shall shortly be delivered over to death ; I beseech you, pray Grod
for me." When evening came, she was not the less eager to take
part in a sortie with her usual comrades and a troop of about five
hundred men. William de Flavy, commandant of the place, got
ready some boats on the Oise to assist the return of the troops.
All the town gates were closed, save the bridge-gate. The sortie
was unsuccessful. Being severely repulsed and all but hemmed
in, the majority of the soldiers shouted to Joan, " Try to quickly
regain the town or we are lost." " Silence," said Joan : "it only
rests with you to throw the enemy into confusion ; think only of
striking at them." Her words and her bravery were in vain ; the
infantry flung themselves into the boats and regained the town,
and Joan and her brave comrades covered their retreat. The Bur-
gundians were coming up in mass upon Compifegne, and Flavy
gave orders to pull up the drawbridge and let down the portcullis.
Joan and some of her following lingered outside, still fighting.
She wore a rich sur-coat and a red sash, and all the efibrts of the
Burgundians were directed against her. Twenty men thronged
round her horse ; and a Picard archer, " a tough feUow and mighty
sour," seized her by her dress and flung her on the ground. All,
at once, called on her to surrender. " Yield you to me," said one
of them, " pledge your faith to me ; I am a gentleman." It was an
archer of the bastard of Wandonne, one of the lieutenants of John
of Luxembourg, count of Ligny. " I have pledged my faith to one
other than you," said Joan, '' and to him I will keep my oath."
The archer took her and conducted her to Count John, whose
prisoner she became.
Was she betrayed and delivered up as she had predicted ? Did
William de Flavy purposely have the drawbridge raised and the
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS* WAR, 351
portcullis lowered before she could get back into Compifegne ? He
was suspected of it at the time, and many historians have indorsed
the suspicion. But there is nothing to prove it. That La
Tr(5moille, prime minister of Charles VII., and Reginald do
Chartres, archbishop of Rheims, had an antipathy to Joan of Arc,
and did all they could on every occasion to compromise her and
destroy her influence, and that they were glad to see her a prisoner
is as certain as any thing can bo. On announcing her capture to
the inhabitants of Rheims, the archbishop said, " She would not
listen to counsel and did every thing according to her pleasure."
But there is a long distance between such expressions and a pre-
meditated plot to deliver to the enemy the young heroine who had
just raised the siege of Orleans and brought the king to be crowned
at Rheims. History must not, without proof, impute crimes so
odious and so shameful to even the most depraved of men.
However that may be, Joan remained for six months the
prisoner of John of Luxembourg, who, to make his possession of
her secure, sent her, under good escort, successively to his two
castles of Beaulieu and Beaurevoir, one in the Vermandois and
the other in the Cambresis. Twice, in July and in October, 1430,
Joan attempted, unsuccessfully, to escape. The second time she
carried despair and hardihood so far as to throw herself down from
the platform of her prison. She was picked up cruelly bruised, but
without any fracture or wound of importance. Her fame, her
youth, her virtue, her courage, made her, even in her prison and in
the very family of her custodian, two warm and powerful friends.
John of Luxembourg had with him his wife, Joan of B^thune, and
his aunt, Joan of Luxembourg, godmother of Charles VII. They
both of them took a tender interest in the prisoner ; and they
often went to see her and left nothing undone to mitigate the
annoyances of a prison. One thing only shocked them about her,
her man's clothes. "They ofiered her," as Joan herself said, when
questioned upon this subject at a later period during her trial, " a
woman's dress or stuff to make it to her liking, and requested her
to wear it ; but she answered that she had not leave from our
Lord, and that it was not yet time for it." John of Luxembourg's
aunt was full of years and reverenced as a saint. Hearing that the
352 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
English were tempting her nephew by the offer of a sum of money
to give up his prisoner to them, she conjured him in her will, dated
September 10th, 1430, not to sully by such an act the honour of
his name. But Count John was neither rich nor scrupulous ; and
pretexts were not wanting to aid his cupidity and his weakness.
Joan had been taken at Compifegne on the 23rd of May, in the
evening ; and the news arrived in Paris on the 25th of May, in the
morning. On the morrow, the 2Gth, the registrar of the University,
in the name and under the seal of the inquisition of France, wrote a
citation to the duke of Burgundy "to the end that the Maid should
be delivered up to appear before the said inquisitor, and to respond
to the good counsel, favour, and aid of the good doctors and
masters of the University of Paris." Peter Cauchon, bishop of
Beauvais, had been the prime mover in this step. Some weeks
later, on the 14th of July, seeing that no reply arrived from the
duke of Burgundy, he caused a renewal of the same denaands to be
made on the part of the University in more urgent terms, and he
added, in his own name, that Joan, having been taken at Compifegne,
in his own diocese, belonged to him as judge spiritual. He further
asserted that " according to the law, usage, and custom of France,
every prisoner of war, even were it king, dauphin, or other prince,
might be redeemed in the name of the king of England in considera-
tion of an indemnity often thousand livres granted to the capturer."
Nothing was more opposed to the common law of nations and to
the feudal spirit, often grasping, but noble at bottom. For four
months still, John of Luxembourg hesitated ; but his aunt, Joan,
died at Boulogne, on the 13th of November, and Joan of Arc had
no longer near him this powerful intercessor. The king of
England transmitted to the keeping of his coffers at Rouen, in
golden coin, English money, the sum of ten thousand livres.
John of Luxembourg yielded to the temptation. On the 21st of
November, 1430, Joan of Arc was handed over to the king of
England, and the same day the University of Paris, through its
rector, Hebert, besought that sovereign, as king of France, "to
order that this woman be brought to their city for to be shortly
placed in the hands of the justice of the Church, that is, of our
honoured lord, the bishop and count of Beauvais, and also of the
CaAP- XXIY.] THE HUNDRED rEAES* WAR,
353
ordained mqtiisitor in France, in order that her trial may be
c?oii ducted oflBcLaUj and securely."
It was not to Paris but to Rouen, the real capital of the
English in France, that Joan was taken. She aiTiTCd there
OB the 23rd of December, 1430. On the 3rd of January, 1431,
■ an order from Henry VI., king of England, placed her in the hands
of the bishop of Beauvais, Peter Cauchon. Some days afterwards^
Count John of Luxembourg, accompanied by his brother, the
Unglish chancellor, by his esquire, and by two English lords,
Hichard Beauchamp, earl of Warwick, and Humphrey, earl of
Stafford, the king of England's constable in France, entered the
prison. Had John of Luxembourg come out of sheer curiosity or
"to reheve himself of certain scruples by offering Joan a chance for
lier hfe? **Joan,'* said he, "I am come hither to put you to
xunsom and to treat for the price of your deliverance; only give us
30!ir promise here to no more bear arms against us,'* *^ In God's
Tiame,'* answered Joan> **are you making a mock of me, captain?
^nsom me ! You have neither the will nor the power ; no, you
lave neither." The count persisted. " I know well," said Joan,
K **that these English will put me to death ; but were they a
* "himdred thousand more Goddavis than have already been in
_ Prance, they shall never have the kingdom."
■ At this patriotic bm'st on the heroine*s part, the earl of Stafford
half drew his dagger from the sheath as if to strike Joan, but the
m] of Warwick held him back. The visitors went out from the
piiBon and handed over Joan to the judges.
^ The court of Rouen was promptly formed, but not without
H "^^jposition and difficulty. Though Joan had lost somewhat of her
K^i'^Batness and importance by going beyond her main object and by
showing recklessness, unattended by success, on small occasions, she
^till remained the true, heroic representative of thefeeUngs and wishes
^f the nation. When she was removed from Beaurevoir to Rouen,
^H the places at which she stopped were like so many luminous
points for the illustration of her popularity. At Arras, a Scot
^tiowed lier a portrait of her which he wore, an outward sign of the
f'ievoted worship of her Hegea. At Amiene, the chancellor of the
^^^thedrai gave her audience at confession and administered to her the
354
HISTORY OF FRAI^CE.
[CuAB. XXII
eucliarist. At Abbeville, ladies of distinction went five leagiios to pay
her a visit; tbey were glad to have had the happiness of seeing lier
so firm and resigned to the will of Our Lord ; they wisliod her all
the favours of heaven, and they wept affectionately on t-akiiij^ leave
of her, Joan, touched by their sympathy and open-heartedness,
said, "Ah I what a good people la this I Would to God 1 might lie
80 happys when my days are endedjas to be buried in these parts f*
Wlien the bishop of Beauvais, installed at Rouen, set alioat
forming his court of justice, the majority of the inemliers he
appointed amongst the clergy or the University of Parie obe^'wd
the summons without hesitation. Some few would have refuse*) ;
but their wishes were over-ruled. The abbot of Jumit'ges, Nicholus
de Houppeville, maintained that the trial was not legah This
bishop of Beauvais, he said, belonged to the party which declared
itself hostile to the Maid ; and^ besides, he made liimself judge in a
case already decided by his metropolitan, the archbishop of Rheims,
of whom Beauvais was holdeh, and who had approved of Joan's
conduct. The bishop summoned before him the recalcitrant, who
refused to appear, saying that he was under no official jurisdictiou
but that of Rouen, He was arrested and thrown into prison, by
order of the bishop, whose authority he denied. There was some
talk of banishing him and even of throwing him into the river; hot
the influence of his brethren saved him. The sub-inquisitor him-
self allowed the trial in which he was to be one of the judges to
begin without him; and he only put in an appearance at the
express order of the inquisitor-general and on a confidential hi|
that he would be in danger of his life if he persisted in liis ref '^"
The court being thus constituted, Joan, after it had Ijeen pi.
possession of the evidence already collected, was cited, on the -
of February, 1431, to appear on the morrow, the 21st, before
her judges assembled in the chapel of Rouen Castle.
The trial lasted from the 2l8t of February to the 30th ui Mas^
1431. The court held forty sittings, mostly in the clmpel of
the castle, some in Joan's Yory prison- On her arrival tliere, she
had been put in an iron cage ; afterwards she was kept ** no longer
in the cage, but in a dark room in a tower of the castle, wearing
irons upon her feet, fastened by a chain to a large piece of wood,
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 357
and guarded night and day by four or five soldiers of low grade."
She complained of being thus chained; but the bishop told her
that her former attempts at escape demanded this precaution.
" It is true," said Joan, as truthful as heroic, " I did wish and I
still wish to escape from prison, as is the right of every prisoner."
At her examination, the bishop required her to take " an oath to
tell the truth about every thing as to which she should be ques-
tioned." "I know not what you mean to question me about;
perchance you may ask me things I would not tell you ; touching
my revelations, for instance, you might ask me to tell something I
have sworn not to tell ; thus I should be perjured, which you ought
not to desire." The bishop insisted upon an oath absolute and
without condition. "You are too hard on me," said Joan; "I
do not Uke to take an oath to tell the truth save as to matters
which concern the faith." The bishop called upon her to swear on
pain of being held guilty of the things imputed to her. " Gro on to
something else," said she. And this was the answer she made to
all questions which seemed to her to be a violation of her right to
be silent. Wearied and hurt at these imperious demands, she one
day said, "I come on God's business, and I have naught to do here ;
send me back to Grod from whom I come." ^* Are you sure you
are in God's grace ?" asked the bishop. " If I be not," answered
Joan, " please God to bring me to it ; and if I be, please God to
keep me in it !" The bishop himself remained dumbfounded.
There is no object in following through all sittings and all
its twistings this odious and shameful trial, in which the judges'
prejudiced serviUty and scientific subtlety were employed for
three months to wear out the courage or overreach the under-
standing of a young girl of nineteen, who refused at one time
to lie, and at another to enter into discussion with them, and
made no defence beyond holding her tongue or appealing to God
who had spoken to her and dictated to her that which she had
done. In order to force her from her silence or bring her to
submit to the Church instead of appeaUng from it to God, it was
proposed to employ the last means of all, torture. On the 9th of
May the bishop had Joan brought into the great tower of Rouen
Castle ; the instruments of torture were displayed before her eyes ;
358 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXTT-
and the executioners were ready to fulfil their office, ** for to bring
her back," said the bishop, " into the ways of truth, in order to
insure the salvation of her soul and body so gravely endangered
by erroneous inventions." " Verily," answered Joan, " if you
should have to tear me limb from limb, and separate soul from
body, I should not tell you aught else ; and if I were to tell you
aught else, I should afterwards still tell you that you had made me
tell it by force." The idea of torture was given up. It was
resolved to display all the armoury of science in order to subdue
the mind of this young girl whose conscience was not to be subju-
gated. The chapter of Rouen declared that in consequence of her
public refusal to submit herself to the decision of the Church as to
her deeds and her statements, Joan deserved to be declared a
heretic. The University of Paris, to which had been handed in
the twelve heads of accusation resulting from Joan's statements
and examinations, repUed that " if, having been charitably ad-
monished, she would not make reparation and return to union with
the Catholic faith, she must be left to the secular judges to undergo
punishment for her crime." Armed with these documents the
bishop of Beauvais had Joan brought up, on the 23rd of May, in
a hall adjoining her prison and, after having addressed to her a long
exhortation, " Joan," said he, " if in the dominions of your king,
when you were at large in them, a knight or any other, born under
his rule and allegiance to him, had risen up, saying, * I wnll not
obey the king or submit to his officers,' would you not have said
that he ought to be condemned ? What then will you say of
yourself, you who were born in the faith of Christ and became by
baptism a daughter of the Church and spouse of Jesus Christ, if
you obey not the officers of Christ, that is, the prelates of the
Church ?" Joan listened modestly to this admonition and confined
herself to answering, " As to my deeds and sayings, what I said
of them at the trial I do hold to and mean to abide by."
"Think you that you are not bound to submit your sayings and
deeds to the Church militant or to any other than God ?" "The
course that I always mentioned and pursued at the trial I mean
to maintain as to that. If I were at the stake and saw the torch
lighted and the executioner ready to set fire to the faggots, even if
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEAES' WAR. 359
I were in the midst of the flames, I should not say aught else, and
I should uphold that which I said at the trial even unto death."
According to the laws, ideas, and practices of the time the legal
question was decided. Joan, declared heretic and rebeUious by
the Church, was liable to have sentence pronounced against her ;
but she had persisted in her statements, she had shown no sub-
mission. Although she appeared to be quite forgotten and was
quite neglected by the king whose coronation &he had efiected, by
his councillors, and even by the brave warriors at whose side she
had fought, the public exhibited a lively interest in her ; accounts
of the scenes which took place at her trial were inquired after with
curiosity. Amongst the very judges who prosecuted her many were
troubled in spirit and wished that Joan, by an abjuration of her
statements, would herself put them at ease and reUeve them from
pronouncing against her the most severe penalty. What means
were employed to arrive at this end ? Did she really and with full
knowledge of what she was about come round to the abjuration
which there was so much anxiety to obtain from her ? It is diffi-
cult to solve this historical problem with exactness and certainty.
More than once, during the examinations and the conversations
which took place at that time between Joan and her judges, she
maintained her firm posture and her first statements. One of those
who were exhorting her to yield said to her one day, "Thy king is
a heretic and a schismatic." Joan could not brook this insult to
her king. " By my faith," said she, " full well dare I both say and
swear that he is the noblest Christian of all Christians, and the
truest lover of the faith and the Church." " Make her hold her
tongue," said the usher to the preacher, who was disconcerted at
having provoked such language. Another day, when Joan was
being urged to submit to the Church, brother Isambard de la Pierre,
a Dominican, who was interested in her, spoke to her about the
council, at the same time explaining to her its province in the
Church. It was the very time when that of Bale had been convoked.
" Ah I" said Joan, " I would fain surrender and submit myself to
the council of Btile." The bishop of Beauvais trembled at the
idea of this appeal. "Hold your tongue in the devil's name T*
said he to the monk. Another of the judges, WiUiam Erard,
360
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chaf, xxrv.
asked Joan menacingljj "Will you abjure those reprobate words and
deeds of yours ? ** '*I leave it to the universal Church whether I
ought to abjure or not.'* "That is not enough: you shall abjure at
once or you shall bum/' Joan shuddered. " I would rather sign than
burn," she said* There was put before her a form of abjuration
whereby, disavowing her revelations and visions from heaven, she
confessed her errors in matters of faith and renounced them humbly.
At the bottom of the document she made the mark of a cross.
Doubts have arisen as to the genuineness of this long and difiuse
deed in the form in which it has been published in the trial-papers.
Twenty*four years later, in 1455, during the trial undertaken for
the rehabilitation of Joan, several of those who had been present at
the trial at which she was condemned, amongst others the usher
Massieu and the registrar Taquel, declared that the form of abju-
ration read out at that time to Joan and signed by her contained
only seven or eight lines of big writing ; and according to anotli
witness of the scene it was an Englishman, John Calot, secretary
of Henry VI., king of England, who, as soon as Joan had yielded,
drew from his sleeve a Mttle paper which he gave to her to sign,
and, dissatisfied with the mark she had made, held her hand and
guided it so that she might put down her name, every letter*
However that may be, as soon as Joan's abjuration had thus been
obtained, the court issued on the 24th of May, 1431, a d^fiintim
decree, whereby, after some long and severe strictures in the
preamble, it condemned Joan to perpetual imprisonment ** with
the bread of affliction and the water of affiction, in order that
she might deplore the errors and faults she had conimitted and J
relapse into them no more henceforth.*'
The Church might be satisfied; but the king of England, Mb]
councillors and his officers, were not. It was Joan h ving, even though
a prisoner, that they feared. They were animated towards her by the <
two ruthless passions of vengeance and fear. When it was known'
that she would escape with her life, murmurs broke out amongst
the crowd of enemies present at the trial. Stones were thrown at
the judges. One of the cardinal of Winchester's chaplains, who
happened to be close to the bishop of Beauvais, called him traitor.
'*You lie,'* said the bishop. And the bishop was right; the
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR 861
chaplain did lie; the bishop had no intention of betraying his
masters. The earl of Warwick complained to him of the inadequacy
of the sentence. " Never you mind, my lord," said one of Peter
Cauchon's confidants, " we will have her up again." After the
passing of her sentence Joan had said to those about her, " Come
now, you churchmen amongst you, lead me off to your own prisons,
and let me be no more in the hands of the English." "Lead her to
where you took her," said the bishop ; and she was conducted to the
castle prison. She had been told by some of the judges who went
to see her after her sentence that she would have to give up her man's
dress and resume her woman's clothing as the Church ordained.
She was rejoiced thereat; forthwith, accordingly, resumed her
woman's clothes, and had her hair properly cut, which up to that
time she used to wear clipped round like a man's. When she was
taken back to prison, the man's dress which she had worn was put
in a sack in the same room in which she was confined, and she
remained in custody at the said place in the hands of five English-
men, of whom three stayed by night in the room and two outside
at the door. " And he who speaks [John Massieu, a priest, the same
who in 1431 had been present as usher of the court at the trial in
which Joan was condemned] knows for certain that at night she
had her legs ironed in such sort that she could not stir from the
spot. When the next Sunday morning, which was Trinity Sunday,
had come and she should have got up, according to what she herself
told to him who speaks, she said to her English guards, * Uniron
me; I will get up.' Then one of them took away her woman's
clothes ; they emptied the sack in which was her man's dress and
pitched the said dress to her, saying, * Get up, then,' and they put
her woman's clothes in the same sack. And according to what
she told me she only clad herself in her man's dress after saying,
* You know it is forbidden me ; I certainly will not take it.'
Nevertheless they would not allow her any other ; insomuch that*
the dispute lasted to the hour of noon. Finally, from corporeal
necessity, Joan was constrained to get up and take the dress."
The ofl&cial documents drawn up during the condemnation-trial
contain quite a different accoimt. " On the 28th of May," it is
there said, " eight of the judges who had taken part in the sentence
362 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
[their names are given in the document, t. i. p. 454] betook them-
selves to Joan's prison, and seeing her clad in man's dress, * which
she had but just given up according to our order that she should
resume woman's clothes, we asked her when and for what cause
she had resumed this dress, and who had prevailed on her to do so.
Joan answered that it was of her own will, without any constraint
from any one, and because she preferred that dress to woman's
clothes. To our question as to why she had made this change she
answered, that being surrounded by men man's dress was more
suitable for her than woman's. She also said that she had resumed
it because there had been made to her, but not kept, a promise that
she should go to mass, receive the body of Christ, and be set free
from her fetters. She added that if this promise were kept she
would be good, and would do what was the will of the Church.
As we had heard some persons say that she persisted in her errors
as to the pretended revelations which she had but lately renounced,
we asked whether she had since Thursday last heard the voices of
St. Catherine and St. Margaret ; and she answered. Yes. To our
question as to what the saints had said she answered, that God
had testified to her by their voices great pity for the great treason
she had committed in abjuring for the sake of saving her life, and
that by so doing she had damned herself. She said that all she
had thus done last Thursday in abjuring her visions and revela-
tions she had done through fear of the stake, and that all her
abjuration was contrary to the truth. She added that she did not
herself comprehend what was contained in the form of abjuration
she had been made to sign, and that she would rather do penance
once for all by dying to maintain the truth than remain any longer
a prisoner, being all the while a traitress to it."
We will not stop to examine whether these two accounts, though
very different, are not fundamentally reconcilable, and whether
Joan resumed man's dress of her own desire or was constrained to
do so by the soldiers on guard over her, and perhaps to escape
from their insults. The important points in the incident are the
burst of remorse which Joan felt for her weakness and her
striking retractation of the abjm*ation which had been wining from
her. So soon as the news was noised abroad, her enemies cried,
CUAP. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.
363
**Sh6 has relapsed ['* This was exactly what they had hoped for
-^heDi on learning that she had been sentenced only to perpetual
imprisonment, they had said, " Never you mind; we will have her
mip again/* " FarmmU^ farewell^ my lord," said the bishop of
IBeauvais to the earl of Warwick j whom he met shortly after
Joau*3 retract.ation ; and in his words there was plainly an expres-
sion of satisfaction and not a mere plirase of pohteness. On the
29tb of May the tribunal met again. Forty judges took part in the
cSeEberation ; Joan was unanimously declared a case of relapse, was
found guilty and cited to appear next day, the 30th, on the Vieux-
3Warch^ to hear sentence pronounced, and then undergo the punish-
ment of the stake.
\\Tien on the 30th of May, in the morning, the Dominican brother
» Martin Ladvenu was charged to announce her sentence to Joan,
she gave way at first to grief and terror. **Alas 1" she cried, '*am
I to be so horribly and cruelly treated that this my body, full pure
^ud perfect and never defiled, must to-day be consumed and reduced
to ashes ! Ah I I would seven times rather be beheaded than
burned !" The bishop of Beauvais at this moment came up.
** Bishop,*' said Joan, '* you are the cause of my death ; if you had
Put me in the prisons of the Church and in the hands of fit and
proper ecclesiastical warders, this had never happened ; I appeal
from you to the presence of God/* One of the doctors who had
Sat in judgment upon her, Peter Maurice, went to see her and
■ Spoke to her with sympathy, " Master Peter,'* said she to him,
■** where shall I be to-night?'* "Have you not good hope in
God?" asked the doctor. "Oh! yes,'* she answered; *^ by the
grace of God I shall be in paradise/* Being left alone with the
Dominican, Martin Ladvenu, she confessed and asked to corarau-
rieate. The monk applied to the bishop of Beauvais to know what
lie was to do, "Toll brother Martin/* was the answer, **to give
laer the eucharist and all she asks for/* At nine o'clock, ha ring
l^esumed her woman's dress, Joan was dragged from prison and
driven to the Vieux-March^. From seven to eight hundred soldiers
^3SC0rted the car and prohibited all approach to it on the part of the
«^wd, which encumbered the road and the vicinities ; but a man
Agreed a passage and flung himself towards Joan, It was a canon
364 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
of Bouen, Nicholas Loiseleur, whom the bishop of Beauvais had
placed near her and who had abused the confidence she had shown
him. Beside himself with despair he wished to ask pardon of her;
but the English soldiers drove him back with violence and with the
epithet of traitor, and but for the intervention of the earl of War-
wick his life would have been in danger. Joan wept and prayed ;
and the crowd, afar off, wept and prayed with her. On arriving at
the place she listened in silence to a sermon by one of the doctors
of the court, who ended by saying, "Joan, go in peace; the
Church can no longer defend thee; she gives thee over to the
secular arm." The laic judges, Raoul Bouteillier, baillie of Bouen,
and his lieutenant, Peter Darou, were alone qualified to pronounce
sentence of death ; but no time was given them. The priest
Massieu was still continuing his exhortations to Joan, but " How
now! priest," was the cry from amidst the soldiery, "ve you
going to make us dine here?" •^Away with her I Away with
her r* said the baillie to the guards ; and to the executioner, " Do
thy duty." When she came to the stake Joan knelt down com-
pletely absorbed in prayer. She had begged Massieu to get her a
cross ; and an Englishman present made one out of a little stick,
and handed it to the French heroine, who took it, kissed it, and laid
it on her breast. She begged brother Isambard de la Pierre to go
and fetch the cross from the church of St. Sauveur, the chief door
of which opened on the Vieux-Marclie, and to hold it " up right
before her eyes till the coming of death, in order," she said, " that
the cross whereon God hung might, as long as she lived, be
continually in her sight;" and her wishes were fulfilled. She
wept over her country and the spectators as well as over herself.
"Rouen, Rouen," she cried, "is it here that I must die? Shalt thou
be my last resting-place ? I fear gi^eatly thou wilt have to suffer
for my deatli." It is said that the aged cardinal of Winchester
and the bishop of Beauvais himself could not stifle their emotion
— and, peradvcnture, their tears. The executioner set fire to the
fagfi^ots. When Joan perceived the flames rising, she urged her
confessor, the Dominican brother, Martin Ladvenu, to go down, at
tlie same time asking him to keep holding the cross up high in
front of her that she miglit never cease to see it. The same monk,
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 365
when questioned four and twenty years later, at the rehabilitation-
trial, as to the last sentiments and the last words of Joan, said that
to the very latest moment she had aflBrmed that her voices were
heavenly, that they had not deluded her, and that the revelations
she had received came from God. When she had ceased to live,
two of her judges, John Alesp^e, canon of Rouen, and Peter
Maurice, doctor of theology, cried out, " Would that my soul were
where I believe the soul of that woman is !" And Tressart, secre-
tary to King Henry VI., said sorrowfully, on returning from the
place of execution, " We are all lost ; we have burned a saint."
A saint indeed in faith and in destiny. Never was human crea-
ture more heroically confident in and devoted to inspiration coming
from God, a commission received from God. Joan of Arc sought
nothing of all that happened to her and of all she did, nor exploit,
nor power, nor glory. " It was not her condition," as she used to
say, to be a warrior, to get her king crowned and to deliver her
country from the foreigner. Every thing came to her from on
high, and she accepted every thing without hesitation, without
discussion, without calculation, as we should say in our times. She
beUeved in God and obeyed Him. God was not to her an idea, a
hope, a flash of human imagination, or a problem of human science ;
He was the Creator of the world, the Saviour of mankind through
Jesus Christ, the Being of beings, ever present, ever in action, sole
legitimate sovereign of man whom He has made intelligent and free,
the real and true God whom we are painfully searching for in our
own day, and whom we shall never find again until we cease pre-
tending to do without Him and putting ourselves in His place.
Meanwhile one fact may be mentioned which does honour to our
epoch and gives us hope for our future. Four centuries have
rolled by since Joan of Arc, that modest and heroic servant of God,
made a sacrifice of herself for France. For four and twenty years
after her death, France and the king appeared to think no more of
her. However, in 1455, remorse came upon Charles VH. and
upon France. Nearly all the provinces, all the towns were freed
from the foreigner; and shame was felt that nothing was said,
nothing done for the young girl who had saved every thing. At
Rouen, especially, where the sacrifice was completed, a cry for
366 HISTORY OP PRANCE. [C?haf. XXIV.
reparation arose. It was timidly demanded from the spiritual power
which had sentenced and delivered over Joan as a heretic to the
stake. Pope Caliztos III. entertained the request preferred not by
the king of France but in the name of Isabel Romee, Joan's
mother, and her whole family. Regular proceedings were com-
menced and followed up for the rehabilitation of the martyr ; and,
on the 7th of July, 1456, a decree of the court assembled at Bouen
quashed the sentence of 1431, together with all its consequences,
and ordered " a general procession and solenm sermon at St. Ouen
Place and the Vieux-March^, where the said maid had been cruelly
and horribly burned ; besides the planting of a cross of honour
(cruets honestm) on the Vieux-Marche, the judges reserving
the official notice to be given of their decision throughout the
cities and notable places of the realm." The city of Orleans
responded to this appeal by raising on the bridge over the Loire a
group in bronze representing Joan of Arc on her knees before Our
Lady, between two angels. This monument, which was broken
during the religious wars of the sixteenth century and repaired
shortly afterwards, was removed in the eighteenth century, and
Joan of Arc then received a fresh insult : the poetry of a cynic was
devoted to the task of diverting a licentious public at the expense
of the saint whom, three centuries before, fanatical hatred had
brought to the stake. In 1792, the council of the commune of
Orleans, " considering that the monument in bronze did not repre-
sent the heroine's services and did not by any sign call to mind the
struggle against the English," ordered it to be melted down and
cast into cannons, of which " one should bear the name of Joan of
Arc." It is in our time that the city of Orleans and its distin-
guished bishop, Mgr. Dupanloup, have at last paid Joan homage
worthy of her, not only by erecting to her a new statue, but by
recalling her again to the memory of France with her true features
and in her grand character. Neither French nor any other history
offers a like example of a modest little soul with a faith so pure and
efficacious, resting on divine inspiration and patriotic hope.
During the trial of Joan of Arc the war between France and
p]ngland, without being discontinued, had been somewhat slack :
tlie curiosity and the passions of men were concentrated upon the
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 367
scenes at Rouen. After the execution of Joan the war resumed its
course, though without any great events. By way of a step towards
solution, the duke of Bedford, in November, 1431, escorted to
Paris King Henry VI., scarcely ten years old, and had him crowned
at Notre-Darae. The ceremony was distinguished for pomp but
not for warmth. The duke of Burgundy was not present; it was
an EngUshman, the cardinal-bishop of Winchester, who anointed
the young Englander king of France ; the bishop of Paris com-
plained of it as a violation of his rights ; the parliament, the
university, and the municipal body had not even seats reserved at
the royal banquet ; Paris was melancholy and day by day more
deserted by the native inhabitants; grass was growing in the
courtyards of the great mansions ; the students were leaving the
great school of Paris, to which the duke of Bedford at Caen, and
Charles VII. himself at Poitiers, were attempting to raise up rivals;
and silence reigned in the Latin quarter. The child-king was
considered unintelligent and ungraceful and ungracious. When,
on the day after Christmas, he started on his way back to Rouen
and from Rouen to England, he did not confer on Paris " any of
the boons expected, either by releasing prisoners or by putting an
end to black-mails, gabels, and wicked imposts." The burgesses
were astonished, and grumbled ; and the old queen, Isabel of
Bavaria, who was still living at the hostel of St. Paul, wept, it is
said, for vexation, at seeing from one of her windows her grand-
son's royal procession go by.
Though war was going on all the while, attempts were made to
negotiate ; and in March, 1433, a conference was opened at
Seineport, near Corbeil. Every body in France desired peace.
Philip the Good himself began to feel the necessity of it. Burgundy
was almost as discontented and troubled as He-de-France. There
was grumbUng at Dijon as there was conspiracy at Paris. The
English gave fresh cause for national imtation. They showed an
inclination to canton themselves in Normandy, and abandon the
other French provinces to the hazards and sufiFerings of a desul-
tory war. Anne of Burgundy, the duke of Bedford's wife and
Philip the Good's sister, died. The Enghsh duke speedily married
again without even giving any notice to the French prince. Every
368 HISTORY OP PRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
family tie between the two persons was broken ; and the negotia-
tions as well as the war remained without result.
An incident at court caused a change in the situation and gave
the government of Charles a different character. TTia favourite,
Greorge de. la Tr^moiUe, had become almost as unpopular amongst
the royal family as in the country in general. He could not manage
a war and he frustrated attempts at peace. The queen of Sicily,
Yolande d'Aragon, her daughter, Mary d'Anjou, queen of Prance,
and her son, Louis, coimt of Maine, who all three desired peace,
set themselves to work to overthrow the favourite. In June, 1433,
four young lords, one of whom, sire de Beuil, was La Tr^moille's
own nephew, introduced themselves unexpectedly into his room at
the castle of Coudray, near Chinon, where Charles VII. was. La
Tr^moille showed an intention of resisting, and received a sword-
thrust. He was made to resign all his offices and was sent under
strict guard to the castle of Montrdsor, the property of his
nephew, sire de Beuil. The conspirators had concerted measures
with La Tr^moille's rival, the constable De Richemont, Arthur of
Brittany, a man distinguished in war, who had lately gone to help
Joan of Arc, and who was known to be a friend of peace at the
same time that he was firmly devoted to the national cause. He
was called away from his castle of Parthenay and set at the head
of the government as well as of the army. Charles VII. at first
showed anger at his favourite's downfall. He asked if Richemont
was present and was told no: whereupon he seemed to grow
calmer. Before long he did more; he became resigned, and,
continuing all the while to give La Tr^moille occasional proofs
of his former favour, he fully accepted De Richemont's influence
and the new direction which the constable imposed upon his
government.
War was continued nearly every where, with alternations of suc-
cess and reverse which deprived none of the parties of hope without
giving victory to any. Peace, however, was more and more the
general desire. Scarcely had one attempt at pacification failed
when another was begun. The constable De Richemont's return to
power led to fresh overtures. He was a statesman as well as a
warrior ; and his inclinations were known at Dijon and London as
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR
sm
^^ell as at Chinon* The advisers of King Henry YI. proposed to
^«pen a conference, on the 15th of October^ 1433, at Calais* They
Jiad, they said, a prisoner in England ^ confined there ever since the
"■jattle of Agincourt, Duke Charles of Orleans, who was sincerely
-desirous of peaces in spite of his family-enmity towards the duke of
"Burgundy, He was considered a very proper person to promote the
:ziegotiatians, although he sought in poetry, which was destined to
Tbring lustre to his name, a refuge from politics which made his life
^ burthen. He, one day meeting the duke of Burgundy's two
embassadors at the earl of Suffolk^ s, Henry VI. *s prim© minister,
"went up to them, affectionately took their hands and, when they
inquired after his health, said, " My body is well, my soul is sick j
■ J am dying with vexation at passing my best days a prisoner, with-
out any one to think of me." The ambassadors said that people
Would be indebted to him for the benefit of peace, for he was
faiown to be labouring for it. " My lord of Suffolk," said he^ "can
tell you that I never cease to urge it upon the king and his council ;
but I am as useless here as the sword never drawn from the
Scabbard* I must see ray relatives and friends in France ; they
"^^ill not treat, surely, without having consulted with me. If peace
depended upon me, though I were doomed to die seven days after
Swearing it^ that would cause me no regret. However, what matters
it what I say ? I am not master in any thing at all ; next to the
t^o kings, it is the duke of Burgundy and the duke of Brittany
who have most power. Will you not come and call upon me?" he
^cMed, pressing the hand of one of the ambassadors. /^They will
s^e you before they go," said the earl of Suffolk in a tone which
i:i:iad6 it plain that no private conversation would be permitted
Ijbetween them* And indeed the earl of Suffolk's barber went alone
to wait upon the ambassadors in order to tell them that, if the
^uke of Burgundy desired it, the duke of Orleans would write to
^im. " I will undertake," he added, "to bring you his letter,"
Inhere was evident mistrust ; and it was explained to the Burgun*
^aau ambassadors by the earl of Warwick's remark, " Your duke
'tiever once came to see our king during his stay in France,**
T^e ditke of Bedford used similar language to them, *' Why,"
aaid he, " does my brother the duke of Burgundy give way to evil
f It h
370
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Ceap. XXW.
imagimngs agmnst me ? There is not a prince m the world, after
my king, whom I esteem so much. The ill-will which seems to
eidst between us spoils the kiiig's affairs and his own too. But teU
him that I am not the less disposed to serve Hm/'
In March, 1435, the duke of Burgundy went to Parisi taking with
him his third wife, Isabel of Portugal, and a magmficent follow-
ing. There were seen, moreover, in his ti:ain, a hundred waggons
laden with artillery, armour, salted provisions, cheeses, and wines
of Burgundy. There was once more joy in Paris, and the diike
received the most affectionate welcome. The university was repre-
sented before him and made him a great speech on the necessity of
peace. Two days afterwards, a deputation from the city-dames of
Paris waited upon the duchess of Bm^ndy and implored her to
use her influence for the re-estabHshment of peace. She answered,
*^ My good friends, it is the thing I desire most of all in the world;
I pray for it night and day to the Lord our God, for I believe that wo
aU have great need of it, and I know for certain that my lord and
husband has the greatest willingness to give up to that purpose
his person and his substance." At the bottom of his soul Duke
PhiUp's decision was already taken. He had but lately discussed
the condition of Prance with the constable, De Richemont, and
Duke Charles of Bourbon, his brother4n-law, whom he had sum-
moned to Novers with that design. Being convinced of the
necessity for peace, he spoke of it to the king of England's advisers
whom he found in Paris, and who dared not show absolute oppo-
sition to it It was agreed that in the month of July a general
and, more properly speaking, a European conference should meet
at Arras, that the legates of Pope Eugenius IV* should be invited
to it, and that consultation should be held thereat as to the meani
of putting an end to the sufferings of the two kingdoms.
Towards the end of July, accordingly, whilst the war
being prosecuted with redoubled ardour on both sides at
very gates of Paris, there arrived at Arras the pope's legat
and the ambassadors of the Emperor Sigismund, of the kings
of Castile, Aragon, Portugal, Naples, Sicily, Cyprus, Poland^
and Denmark, and of the dukes of Brittany and Milan* The
university of Paris and many of the good towns of France,
X^HAP.XXIV.] THE HUNDRED TEABS* WAR,
371
^rf'^Ianders, and even Hollandj had sent their deputies thithfer.
jI^BIaiiy bishops were there in person. The bishop of Liege came
-tfii^ther with a magnificent train mounted, say the chroniclers, on
-^ziwo hundred white horses* The duke of Burgundy made his
-^^ntrance on the 30th of July, escorted by three hundred arches
^^^earing his livery. All the lords who happened to be in the city
" ^^^eat to meet him at a league's distance, except the cardinal-legates
«=>f the pope, who confined themselves to sending their people*
■3Cwo days afterwards arrived the ambassadors of the king of
^pp^rance, having at their head the duke of Bourbon and the con*
^ table De Richemont, together with several of the greatest French
lords and a retinue of four or five hundred persons, Duke Philip,
^rewamed of their coming, issued fi'om the city with all the
princes and lords who happened to be there* The English alone
^*t*fuBed to accompany him, wondering at his showing such great
^^oiiour to the ambassadors of theii* common enemy. Phihp went
forward a mile to meet his two brothers-in-law, the duke of
Bourbon and the count de Richemont, embraced them afifec-
tionately, and turned back with them into Arras^ amidst the joy
^^d acclamations of the populace. Last of all arrived the duchess
of Burgundy, magnificently dressed and bringing with her her
Joung son, the count of Charolais, who was hereafter to be Charles
^e Rash* The duke of Bourbon, the constable De Richemont and
*U the lords were on horseback around her litter ; but the BngUsh
Tfrho had gone, like the others, to meet her, were unwilling, on
fuming back to Arras, to form a part of her retinue with the
^^rench.
V Grand as was the sight, it was not superior in grandeur to the
^vent on the eve of accomplishment. The question was whether
Franco should remain a great nation in fiill possession of itself
a.nd of its independence under a French king, or whether the king
of England should, in London and with the title of king of France,
Have France in his possession and under his government. Phihp
tHe Good, duke of Burgundy, was called upon to solve this problem
of tlie future, that is to say, to decide upon the fate of his lin^g$
and his country.
t soon as the conference was openedj and no matter whal
B b 2
872
HISTORY OP FRANCE.
[Chap* XXDT-
attempts were made to veil or adjourn the question* it was put
nakedly. The English, instead of peace, began by proposing
a long truce and the marriage of Henry VI, wth a daughter
of King Charles, The French am1>assadors refnsed, absolutely,
to negotiate on this basis; they desired a definitive peace;
and their conditions were that the king and people of England
should give up the pretended title and right to the crown of
France, that the duchy of Aquitaine should be ceded to them
as a fief, and that they should give up, besides, all they occupied in
France. After much solemn discussion and private conversation
the legates of the pope by dint of entreaty got the French to offer
Normandy to the king of England, but on the footing of peerage
and vassalage, as it had been held by King John and by King
Charles V. when dauphin; and they, further, peremptorily de-
manded the abandonment of all pretension to the crown of France
and to any other possession in Prance, The English ambassadors
and the cardinaUbishop of Winchester, at their arrival from London
on the 26th of August with a numerous following, declared that
they had no power thus to despoil the king their master of a crown
to which he had a right, and that they withdrew from the con-
ference. Before they went they told the pope's legates " that it
was not a just thing nor legitimate to laboiir to make peace, without
them, between the duke of Burgundy and King Charles their
adversary, since the duke had sworn, with them, to treaties from
which he could not extricate himself/' On the refusal of the
legates to allow their objection, they left Arras on the Ist of
September, and returned to England _
Up to that moment the duke of Burgundy had remained a
stranger to the negotiations. *' He was French in blood, in hearty in
wish; he belonged to the noble house of France, and from it sprang
the origin of all bis greatness. He saw the kingdom deetrojdd
and the poor people reduced to despair. The English had often
offended him ; he had many times found them proud, obstiiiats^
insolent ; he had Uttlo to gain by their alliance, and, for seveiil
years past, they had never succoured him in his embarrassmeBta
and distresses," He readily listened to his friends in Frooodi
especially to bis brother-in-law the constable De Richemont, Night
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 375
by night, when every body had retired, the constable sought out
Duke Philip, gave him an account of every thing, and put before
his eyes all the urgent reasons for making an end of this situation,
so full of danger for the whole royal house and of suffering for the
people. Nevertheless the duke showed strong scruples. The
treaties he had sworn to, the promises he had made threw him into
a constant fever of anxiety ; he would not have any one able to say
that he had in any respect forfeited his honour. He asked for
three consultations, one with the ItaUan doctors connected with
the pope's legates, another with English doctors, and another with
French doctors. He was granted all three, though they were more
calculated to fiirnish him with arguments, each on their own side,
than to dissipate his doubts if he had any real ones. The legates
ended by solemnly saying to him, " We do conjure you by the
bowels of our Lord Jesus Christ and by the authority of our
holy father the pope, of the holy council assembled at BMe and
of the universal Church, to renounce that spirit of vengeance
whereby you are moved against King Charles in memory of the
late duke John, your father; nothing can render you more
pleasing in the eyes of God or further augment your fame in this
world." For three days Duke PhQip remained still undecided;
but he heard that the duke of Bedford, regent of France on behalf
of the English, who was his brother-in-law, had just died at Rouen
on the 14th of September. He was, besides the late king of
England, Henry V., the only Englishman who had received pro-
mises from the duke and who lived in intimacy with him. Ten
days afterwards, on the 24th of September, the queen, Isabel of
Bavaria, also died at Paris; and thus another of the principal
causes of shame to the French kingship and misfortune to France
disappeared from the stage of the world. Duke Philip felt himself
more free and more at rest in his mind, if not rightfully at any
rate so far as poUtical and worldly expedience was concerned. He
declared his readiness to accept the proposals which had been
communicated *to him by the ambassadors of Charles VII.; and on
the 21st of September, 1435, peace was signed at Arras between
France and Burgundy, without any care for what England might
say or do.
376
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap. XXIV-
There was great and general joy in France, It was peace mdj
national reconciliation as well; Dauphimsers and Burgundians
braced in the streets ; the Burgundians were delighted at being aUtfj
to call themselves Frenchmen, Charles YIl, convoked the statas^l
general at Tours to consecrate this alliance. On his knees^ upon thej
bare stone^ before the archbishop of Crete who had just celebrated
maas^ the king laid his hands upon the Gospels and swore the peace,
saying that '* It was his duty to imitate the King of kings, our
divine Saviour^ who had brought peace amongst men," At the
chancellor's order the princes and great lords one after the other
took the oath ; the nobles and the people of the third estate swore
the peace all together, with cries of ** Long live the king ! Long live
the duke of Burgmidy ! " " With this hand/* said sire de Lannoj,
** I have thrice sworn peace during this war; but I call God tOj
witness that, for my part, this time it shall be kept and that nei
will I break it (the peace)*" Charles VII. in his emotion, sdzed
the hands of Duke Philip's ambassadors, saying, *^For a long while
I have languished for this happy day ; we must thank God for it.'*
And the Te Deum was intoned with enthusiasm.
Peace was really made amongst Frenchmen; and, in spite of
many internal difficulties and quarrels, it was not broken as long
as Charles VIL and Duke Philip the Good were living. But the
war with the English went on incessantly. They still possessed
several of the finest provinces of France ; and the treaty of
which had weakened them very much on the Continent had likewise
made them very angry. For twenty-six years, from 1435 to 1461,
hostilities continued between the two kingdoms, at one time actively
and at another slackly, with occasional suspension by truce, but
without any formal termination. There is no use in recounting
the details of their monotonous and barren history, Governmeota
and people often persist in maintaining their quarrels and inflictb|
mutual injuries by the instrumentahty of events, acts, and actors,^
that deserve nothing but oblivion. There is no intention here of
dwelling upon any events or persons save such as have for good or
for evil, to its glory or its sorrow, exercised a considerable influence
upon the condition and fortuiie of France-
The peace of Arras brought back to the service of France and
CuAi'.XXIV,] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAE,
377
her king the constable De Richemont, Arthur of Brittany » whom the
jealousy of George de la Tr^raoille and the distrustful indolence of
Charles VII. had bo long kept out of it. By a somewhat rare
privilegei he was in reality, there is reason to suppose, superior
to the name he has left behind him in histoij ; and it is only
justice to reproduce here the portrait given of him by one of
his contemporaries who observed him closely and knew him well.
** Never a man of his time,*' says William Gruet, '* loved jtistice
more than he or took more pains to do it according to his ability.
Never was prince more humble, more cliari table, more eompassio-
iiate, more liberal, less avaricious, or more open-handed in a good
fashion and without prodigality. He was a proper man, chaste
and brave as prince can be ; and tbere was none of his time of
better conduct than he in conducting a great battle or a great
siege and all sorts of approaches in all sorts of ways. Every day,
once at least in the four and twenty hoiirs, his conversation was of
war, and he took more pleasure in it than in aught else. Above all
things he loved men of valour and good renown, and he more than
any other loved and supported the people and freely did good to
poor mendicants and others of God's poor/'
Nearly all the deeds of Richemont, from the time that lie became
powerful again, confirm the truth of tbis portrait. His first thought
and his first labour were to restore Paris to France and to the
king. The unhappy city in subjection to the English was the very
image of devastation and ruin. " The wolves prowled about it by
night, and there were in it,'* says an eye-witness, "twenty-four
thousand houses empty.*' The duke of Bedford, in order to get
rid of these public tokens of misery, attempted to supply the
Parisians with bread and amusements (panem et circmises); but
their very diversions were ghastly and melancholy. In 1425, there
was painted in the sepulchre of the Innocents a picture called the
Dance of Death : Death, grinning with fleshless jaws, was repre-
sented taking by the hand all estates of the population in their
turn and making them dance. In the H6tel Armagnac, confiscated^
as so many others were* from its owner, a show was exliibited to
amuse the people. *' Four blind men armed with staves were shut
up with a pig in a little paddock. They had to see whether they
878
HISTORY OF FRANCR
[Chap. XMV.
could kill the said pig, and when they thought they were belaboiif-
ing it most they were belabouring one another-*' The constable
resolved to put a stop to tbis deplorable state of things in the
capital of Franca In Aprils 1436, when he had just ordered for
himself apartments at St* Denis, he heard that the English had
just got in there and plundered the church. He at once gave
orders to march. The Burgundians who made up nearly all his
troop demanded their pay and would not mount. Richemont gave
them his bond ; and the march was begun to St. Denis. ** Ycfa
know the country?" said the constable to marshal Isle-Adam.
"Yes, my lord," answered the other, "and by my faith, in the
position held by the English, you would do nothing to harm or
annoy them though you had ten thousand fighting-men." **Ali!
but we will," replied Richemont ; "God will help us. Keep pressing
forward to support the skirmishers." And he occupied St. Denis
and drove out the English. The population of Paris, being informed
of this success, were greatly moved and encouraged. One bmve
burgess of Paris, Michel LailHer, master of the exchequer, notified
to the constable, it is said, that they were ready and quite able to
open one of the gates to him, provided that an engagement were
entered into in the king's name for a general amnesty and the pre-
vention of all disorder* The constable, on the king*s behalf, entered
into the required engagement, and presented himself the next day»
the 13th of April, with a picked force before the St. Michel gate.
The enterprise was discovered. A man posted on the wall
signs to them with his hat, crying out, " Go to the other g&te,^
there's no opening this ; work is going on for you in the Market»j
quarter." The picked force followed the course of the ramj
up to the St. Jacques gate, "Who goes there?" demanded some
burghers who had the guard of it* "Some of the constable's
people.'' He himself came up on his big charger, with satisfection
and courtesy in his mien. Some Uttle time was required for
opening the gate ; a long ladder was let down ; and marshal Isle-
Adam was the first to mount, and planted on the wall the standard
of France. The fastenings of the drawbridge were burst, and when
it was let down the constable made his entry on horseback, ri^
calmly down St, Jacques Street in the midst of a joyous and
Chap, XXTY,] THE HUNDRED YEAES' WAE,
879
comforted crowd. ** My good friends/* he said to them, ** the
good King Charles, and I on his behalf, do thank you a hundred
thousand times for yielding up to him so quietly the chief city of
Ms kingdom. If there be amongst you any, of whatsoever Condi*
tion he may be^ who hath oflfended against my lord the king, all is
forgiven, in the case both of the absent and the present." Then
He caused it to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet throughout the
streets that none of his people should be so bold, on pain of hang-
ing, as to take up quarters in the house of any burgher against his
win or to use any reproach whatever or do the least displ^sure to
any. At eight of the public joy the English had retired to the
Bastille, where the constable was disposed to besiege them. ** My
lord," said the burghers to him, " they will surrender ; do not
reject their offer; it is so far a fine thing enough to have thus
recovered Paris; often, on the contrary, many constables and
many marshals have been driven out of it. Take contentedly what
God hath granted you." The burghers' prediction was not imveri-
fied. The English salhed out of the Bastille by the gate which opened
on the fields, and went and took boat in the rear of the Louvre*
Next day abundance of provisions arrived in Paris ; and the gates
were opened to the country-folks. The populace freely mautfested
their joy at being rid of the EngHsh, " It was plain to see/* was
the saying, ** that they were not in France to remain ; not one of
them had been seen to sow a field with com or build a house ;
they destroyed their quarters without a thought of repairing them ;
they had not restored, perad venture, a single fire-place. There was
only their regent, the duke of Bedford, who was fond of buUding
and making the poor people work ; he would have hked peace ;
bat the nature of those English is to be always at war with their
neighbours, and accordiogly they all make a bad end ; thank God
there have already died in France more than seventy thousand of
ttem."
Up to the taking of Paris by the constable the duke of Burgundy
Iwd kept himself iq reserve, and had maintained a tacit neutrality
towards England ; he had merely been making, without noisy de-
^^onstration, preparations for an enterprise in which he, as count of
Jlanders, was very much interested. The success of Richemont
nm
niSTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chaf. XXIV.
itis]>in^l liim with a bopo and perhaps with a jealous desire of
nhnwiiif^ \m [Knver and his patriotism as a Frenchman by miikitifr
\vm% in hi^ t urn, upon the English, from whom he had by the ti ■
of ArniB eflfocted only a pacific separation. In Juno, 1436, )j
wvwi and l>esii^ged Calais. This was attacking England at one of
tho i}oinU sho was bent upon defending most obstinately. Philip
\uu\ nvkoned on the energetic co*operation of the cities of Flanders,
imd at the first bhish the FlemiDgs did display a strong incliuation
to support him in his entCTprise* ** When the English/' they said,
** know that my lords of Gtt^ot aie on the way to attack them
witli all ^biir miglit they wiU not awaifc us; they will leave the city
HftA flee 3iw*T *^ Enghmd." Neither tlie PTeiningB nor Pldlip had
<s>rt^iti^ MtXBBted the importanee whicii wai attached in London
to %ht pnsmsdom of Calais. When the didsB of Gloucester, lord*
yiy4^tfter of England^ found this possesskm threatened^ he sent a
Ifor^M to defy the Duke of Burgundy and declare to him that, if
^ %\kl not wait for battle beneath the walls of C'alais, Humphrey of
lilouoester would go after him oven into Ms own dominions, ** TeD
y%\nr lord that he will not need to take so much trouble and thati^H
ho will find me here," answered Philip proudly. His pride was over-^B
tNUindent- Whether it were only a people^s ficUeness or intelligent
cippi*eciation of their own commercial interests in their relations
with England, the Flemings grew speedily disgusted with the siege
uf Calais, complamed of the tardiness in arrival of the fleet wbidi
rliilip had despatched thither to close the port against Engli^li
vessels, and, after having suffered several reverses by sorf^^*^ - f ,
the English garrison, they ended by retiring with such preci] ^
that they abandoned part of their supplies and artillery. Philip,
according to the expression of M. Henri Martin, was reduced to
covering their retreat with his cavalry; and then he went awi]
gon*owfully to Lille, to advise about the means of defending
Flemish lordships exposed to the reprisals of the English.
Thus the fortune of Burgundy was tottering, whilst thafc of
France was recovering itself. The constable's easy occupation of
Paris led the majority of the small places in the neighbourhood,
St* Denis, Chevreuse, Marcoussis, and MontlhiSry to docide
cither upon spontaneous surrender or allowing themselves to be
JHAP. XXrV.] THE HUNDRED YEABS' WAR
383
taken after no great resistance* Charles VII., on his way through
France to Lyon, in Dauphiny, Languedoc, Anvergne, and along the
Lioine, i^covered several other townsj for instancej Chftteau-Landoni
Nemoitrsj and Charny- He laid siege in person to Montereau, an
important military post with which a recent and sinister re-
miniscence was connected* A great change now made itself
apparent in the king's behaviour and disposition. He showed
activity and vigilance, and was ready to expose himself without
any care for fatigue or danger* On the day of the assault (10th of
October, 1437) he went down into the trenches, remained there
in water up to his waist, mounted the scaling-ladder sword in
hand, and was one of the first assailants who penetrated over the
top of the walls right into the place. After the surrender of the
f^aatle as well as the town of Montereau he marched on Paris and
xnade his solemn re-entry there on the 12th of November, 1437,
for the first time since in 1418 Tanneguy-DuchHtel had carried
piiim away, whilst still a child, wrapped in his bed-clothes. Charles
"Was received and entertained as became a recovered and a victori-
ous king ; but he passed only three weeks there, and went away
Once more, on the 3rd of December, to go and resume at Orleans first
and then at Bourges, the serious cares of government* It is said
to have been at this royal entry into Paris that Agnes Sorel or
Soreau, who was soon to have the name of Qmmi of Bemdy and to
assume in French history an almost glorious though illegitimate
position, appeared with brilliancy in the train of the queen, Mary
»cf Anjou, to whom the king had appointed her a maid of honour.
It is a question whether she did not even then exercise over
Ctarles VII, that influence, serviceable alike to the honour of the
king and of Fmnce, which was to inspire Francis I,, a century
later, with this gallant quatrain :■ —
'* If to win bock poor captiYe France be ftught.
More honour, gentlo Agnee, Is tbj tn€^d,
TliMi ero was due to deeds of virtue wrought
By c!oifiter'd nun or pious hermit-breed/*
It is worth while perhaps to remark that in 1437 Agnes Sorel
Was already twenty -seTen,
On© of the best informed, most impartial, and most sensible
384
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
[Chap, XXIV,
histomns of that epoch, James Duclercq, merely says on this
subject, " King Charles, before he had peace with duke Philip of
Burgundy, led a right holy life and said his canonical hours. But
after peace was made with the duke, though the king continued to
serve God, he joined himself unto a young woman who was after-
wards called Fair Agnes"
Nothing 13 gained by ignoring good even when it is found in
company with evil, and there is no intention here of disputing the
share of influence exercised by Agnes Sorel upon Charles VIL's
regeneration in politics and war after the treaty of Arras* Never-
theless, in spite of the king's successes at Montereau and during
his passage through central and northern France, the condition of
the country was still so bad in 1440, the disorder was so great and
the king so powerless to apply a remedy that Richemont, dis*
consolate, was tempted " to rid and disburthen himself from the
government of Franco and between the rivers [Seine and Loire,
no doubt] and to go or send to the king for that purpose/'
But one day the prior of the Carthusians at Paris called on the
constable and found him in his private chapeL " What need you,
iair father?" asked Richemont. The prior answered that he
wished to speak with my lord the constable. Richemont replied
that it was he himself- '* Pardon me, my lord,*' said the prior,
** I did not know you ; I wish to speak to you, if you pleas©,"
*' Gladly," said Richemont. ** Well, ray lord, you yesterday helil
counsel and considered about disburthening yourself from
government and office you hold hereabouts," ** How know yoit^
that ? Who told you ?" " My lord, T do not know it through any
person of your council, and do not put yourself out to learn who told
rae, for it was one of my brethren. My lord, do not do this thing;
and be not troubled, for God will help you/* " Ah I fair father,
how can that be ? The king has no mind to aid me or grant me
men or money; and the men-at-arms hate me because I have
justice done on them, and they have no mind to obey me," "My
lord, they wiU do what you desire; and the king will give you
orders to go and lay siege to Meaux, and will send you men aiid|
money," ** Ah ! fair father, Meaux is so strong! How oan it be
done ? The king of England was there for nine months before it"
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 885
" My lord, be not you troubled ; you will not be there so long ;
keep having good hope in God and He will help you. Be ever
humble and grow not proud ; you will take Meaux ere long ; your
men will grow proud ; they will then have somewhat to suffer; but
you will come out of it to your honour."
The good prior was right. Meaux was taken ; and when the
constable went to tell the news at Paris the king made him " great
cheer." There was a continuance of war to the north of the
Loire ; and amidst many alternations of successes and reverses the
national cause made great way there. Charles resolved, in 1442,
to undertake an expedition to the south of the Loire, in Aquitaine,
where the Enghsh were still dominant; and he was successful. He
took from the English Tartas, Saint-Sever, Marmande, La Rdole,
Blaye, and Bourg-sur-Mer. Their ally. Count John d'Armagnac,
submitted to the king of France. These successes cost Charles VII.
the brave La Hire, who died at Montauban of his wounds. On
returning to Normandy where he had left Dunois, Charles, in
1443, conducted a prosperous campaign there. The English
leaders were getting weary of a war without any definite issue ;
and they had proposals made to Charles for a truce, accompanied
with a demand on the part of their young king, Henry VI., for the
hand of a French princess, Margaret of Anjou, daughter of King
Bend, who wore the three crowns of Naples, Sicily, alid Jerusalem,
without possessing any one of the kingdoms. The truce and the
marriage were concluded at Tours, in 1444. Neither of the
arrangements was popular in England ; the English people, who
had only a far-off touch of suffering from the war, considered that
their government made too many concessions to France. In
France, too, there was some murmuring ; the king, it was said,
did not press his advantages with sufficient vigour; every body
was in a hurry to see all Aquitaine reconquered. " But a joy that
was boundless and impossible to describe," says Thomas Bazin,
the most intelligent of the contemporary historians, " spread abroad
through the whole population of the Gauls. Having been a prey
for so long to incessant terrors, and shut up within the walls
of their towns Uke convicts in a prison, they rejoiced like people
restored to freedom after a long and bitter slayery. Companies
VOL. u. 0 0
386 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
of both sexes were seen going forth into the country and visiting
temples or oratories dedicated to the saints, to pay the vows which
they had made in their distress. One fact especially was admirable
and the work of God Himself: before the truce so violent had
been the hatred between the two sides, both men-at-arms and
people, that none, whether soldier or burgher, could without risk
to life go out and pass from one place to another imless under the
protection of a safe-conduct. But, so soon as the truce was pro-
claimed, every one went and came at pleasure, in ftdl liberty and
security, whether in the same district or in districts under divided
rule ; and even those who, before the proclamation of the truce,
seemed to take no pleasure in any thing but a savage outpouring
of human blood, now took deUght in the sweets of peace^ and
passed the days in holiday-making and dancing with enemies who
but lately had been as bloodthirsty as themselves."
But for all their rejoicing at the peace, the French, king, lords,
and commons, had war still in their hearts ; national feelings were
waking up afresh ; the successes of late years had revived their
hopes ; and the civil dissensions which were at that time disturbing
England let favourable chances peep out. Charles VII. and his
advisers employed the leisure afforded by the truce in preparing
for a renewal of the struggle. They were the first to begin it
again; and from 1449 to 1451 it was pursued by the French king
and nation with ever increasing ardour, and with obstinate courage
by the veteran English warriors astounded at no longer being vic-
torious. Normandy and Aquitaine, which was beginning to be
called Guyenne only, were throughout this period the constant and
the chief theatre of war. Amongst the great number of fights and
incidents which distinguished the three campaigns in those two
provinces the recapture of Rouen by Dunois in October, 1449, the
battle of Formigny, won near Bayeux on the 15th of April, 1450,
by the constable De Richemont, and the twofold capitulation of
Bordeaux, first on the 28th of June, 1451, and next on the 9th of
October, 1453, in order to submit to Charles VII., are the only
events to which a place in history is due, for those were the days
on which the question was solved touching the independence of
the nation and the kingship in France. The duke of Somerset and
tfHAP.XXIV.} THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 387
Lord Talbot were commanding in Rouen when Dunois presented
himself beneath its walls, in hopes that the inhabitants would open
the gates to him. Some burgesses, indeed, had him apprised of a
certain point in the walls at which they might be able to favour the
entry of the French. Dunois, at the same time making a feint of
attacking in another quarter, arrived at the spot indicated with
4000 men. The archers drew up before the wall ; the men-at-arms
dismounted; the burgesses gave the signal, and the planting of
scaling-ladders began ; but when hardly as many as fifty or sixty
men had reached the top of the wall the banner and troops of
Talbot were seen advancing. He had been warned in time and
had taken his measures. The assailants were repulsed; and
Charies VII., who was just arriving at the camp, seeing the
abortiveness of the attempt, went back to Pont-de-rArche. But
the English had no long joy of their success. They were too weak
to make any efiectual resistance, and they had no hope of any aid
from England. Their leaders authorized the burgesses to demand
of the king a safe-conduct in order to treat. The conditions
offered by Charles were agreeable to the burgesses but not to the
EngUsh ; and when the archbishop read them out in the hall of the
mansion-house, Somerset and Talbot witnessed an outburst of joy
which revealed to them all their peril. Faggots and benches
at once began to rain down from the windows ; the English shut
themselves up precipitately in the castle, in the gate-towers, and
in the great tower of the bridge ; and the burgesses armed them-
selves and took possession during the night of the streets and the
walls. Dunois, having received notice, arrived in force at the
Martainville gate. The inhabitants begged him to march into the
city as many men as he pleased. " It shall be as you will," said
Dunois. Three hundred men-at-arms and archers seemed suffi-
cient. Charles VII. returned before Rouen; the English asked
leave to withdraw without loss of life or kit ; and " on condition,"
said the king, " that they take nothing on the march without
paying." "We have not the wherewithal," they answered ; and
the king gave them a hundred francs. Negotiations were recom-
menced. The king required that Harfleur and all the places in
the district of Caux should be given up to him. " Ah I as for
c c 2
388 HISTORY OF PRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
Harfleur, that cannot be," said the duke of Somerset; "it is the
first town which surrendered to our glorious king, Henry V.,
thirty-five years ago." There was further parley. The French
consented to give up the demand for Harfleur ; but they required
that Talbot should remain as a hostage until the conditions were
fulfilled. The English protested. At last, however, they yielded,
and undertook to pay fifty thousand golden crowns to settle aU
accounts which they owed to the tradesmen in the ciiy, and to
give up all places in the district of Caux except Harfleur. The
duchess of Somerset and Lord Talbot remained as hostages ; and
on the 10th of November, 1449, Charles entered Bouen in state,
with the character of a victor who knew how to use victory with
moderation.
The battle of Formigny was at first veiry doubtful. In order to
get fi:om Valognes to Bayeux and Caen the EngUsh had to cross at
the mouth of the Vire great sands which were passable only at low
tide. A weak body of French imder command of the count De
Clermont had orders to cut them ofi* firom this passage. The
English, however, succeeded in forcing it ; but just as they were
taking position, with the village of Formigny to cover their rear,
the constable De Richemont was seen coming up with three
thousand men in fine order. The English were already strongly
intrenched, when the battle began. " Let us go and look close in
their faces, admiral," said the constable to sire De Coetivi. " I
doubt whether they will leave their intrenchments," replied the
admiral. " I vow to God that with His grace they will not abide
in them," rejoined the constable ; and ho gave orders for the most
vigorous assault. It lasted nearly three hours ; the English were
forced to fly at three points and lost 3700 men; several of their
leaders were made prisoners ; those who were left retired in good
order ; Bayeux, Avranches, Caen, Falaise, and Cherbourg fell one
after the other into the hands of Cliarles VII. ; and by the end of
August, 1450, the whole of Normandy had been completely won
back by France.
The conquest of Guycnne, which was undertaken immediately
after that of Normandy, was at the outset more easy and more
speedy. Amongst the lords of southern Franco several hearty
Ohap.XXIV.] the hundred years* war. 389
patriots, such as John of Blois, count of Pdrigord, and Arnold
Amanieu, sire d'Albret, of their own accord began the strife, and on
the 1st of November, 1450, inflicted a somewhat severe reverse upon
the English, near Blanquefort. In the spring of the following
year Charles VII. authorized the count of Armagnac to take the
field, and sent Dunois to assume the command-in-chief. An army
of twenty thousand men mustered under his orders ; and, in the
course of May, 1451, some of the principal places of Guyenne, such
as St. Emihon, Blaye, Fronsac, Bourg-en-Mer, Libourne, and
Dax were taken by assault or capitulated. Bordeaux and Bayonne
held out for some weeks ; but, on the 12th of June, a treaty
concluded between the Bordelese and Dunois secured to the three
estates of the district the liberties and privileges which they had
enjoyed under English supremacy; and it was further stipulated
that, if by the 24th of June the city had not been succoured by
English forces, the estates of Guyenne should recognize the
sovereignty of King Charles. When the 24th of June came, a
herald went up to one of the towers of the castle and shouted :
"Succour from the king of England for them of Bordeaux 1"
None replied to this appeal; so Bordeaux surrendered, and on
the 29th of June Dunois took possession of it in the name of the
king of France. The siege of Bayonne, which was begun on the
6th of August, came to an end on the 20th by means of a similar
treaty. Guyenne was thus completely won. But the English still
had a considerable following there. They had held it for three
centuries ; and they had always treated it well in respect of local
liberties, agiiculture, and commerce. Charles VII., on recovering
it, was less wise. He determined to establish there forthwith the
taxes, the laws, and the whole regimen of northern France ; and
the Bordelese were as prompt in protesting against these measures
as the king was in employing them. In August, 1452, a deputation
from the three estates of the province waited upon Charles at
Bourges, but did not obtain their demands. On their return to
Bordeaux an insiu*rection was organized; and Peter de Mont-
ferrand, sire de Lesparre, repaired to London and proposed to the
English government to resume possession of Guyenne. On the
22nd of October, 1452, Talbot appeared before Bordeaux with a
390 HISTORY OP PRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
body of five thousand men ; the inhabitants opened their gates to
him ; and he installed himself there as lieutenant of the king of
England, Henry VI. Nearly all the places in the neighbourhood,
with the exception of Bourg and Blaye, returned beneath the sway
of the English ; considerable reinforcements were sent to Talbot
from England ; and at the same time an English fleet threatened
the coasts of Normandy. But Charles VII. was no longer the
blind and indolent king he had been in his youth. Nor can
the prompt and efiectual energy he displayed in 1453 be any
longer attributed to the influence of Agnes Sorel, for she died on
the 9th of February, 1450. Charles left Richemont and Dunois to
hold Normandy; and, in the early days of spring, moved in person
to the south of France with a strong army and the principal Ghwcon
lords who two years previously had brought Guyenne back under
his power. On the 2nd of June, 1453, he opened the campaign at
St. Jean-d'Angely. Several places surrendered to him as soon as
he appeared before their walls ; and on the 13th of July he laid
siege to Castillon, on the Dordogne, which had shortly before
fallen into the hands of the EngUsh. The Bordelese grew alarmed
and urged Talbot to oppose the advance of the French. " We may
very well let them come nearer yet," said the old warrior, then
eighty years of age ; *' rest assured that, if it please God, I will
fulfil my promise wlien I see that tlie time and the hour have come."
On the night between the 16th and 17th of July, however,
Talbot set out with his troops to raise the siege of Castillon. He
marched all night and came suddenly in the early morning upon
the French archers, quartered in an abbey, who formed the
advanced guard of their army which was strongly intrenched
before the place. A panic set in amongst this small body, and
some of them took to flight. " Ha ! you would desert me then?"
said sire de Rouault, who was in command of them ; " have I
not promised you to hve and die with you?" They thereupon
rallied and managed to join the camp. Talbot, content for the
time with this petty success, sent for a chaplain to come and say
mass ; and, whilst waiting for an opportunity to resume the fight,
he permitted the tapping of some casks of wine which had been
found in the abbey, and his men set themselves to drinking. A
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 391
countryman of those parts came hurrying up and said to Talbot,
"My lord, the French are deserting their park and taking to
flight; now or never is the hour for fulfilling your promise."
Talbot arose and left the mass, shouting, "Never may I hear mass
again if I put not to rout the French who are in yonder park."
When he arrived in front of the Frenchmen's intrenchment, " My
lord," said Sir Thomas Cunningham, an aged gentleman who had
for a long time past been his standard-bearer, " they have made a
false report to you ; observe the depth of the ditch and the faces
of yonder men ; they don't look like retreating ; my opinion is
that for the present we should turn back; the country is for
us, we have no lack of provisions, and with a little patience we
shall starve out the French." Talbot flew into a passion, gave
Sir Thomas a sword-cut across the face, had his banner planted on
the edge of the ditch, and began the attack. The banner was
torn down and Sir Thomas Cunningham kiUed. "Dismount!"
shouted Talbot to his men-at-arms, English and Gascon. The
French camp was defended by a more than usually strong artillery;
a body of Bretons, held in reserve, advanced to sustain the shock
of the English ; and a shot from a culverin struck Talbot, who was
already wounded in the face, shattered his thigh and brought him
to the ground. Lord Lisle, his son, flew to him to raise him.
" Let me be," said Talbot ; " the day is the enemies'; it will be no
shame for thee to fly, for this is thy first battle." But the son
remained with his father and was slain at his side. The defeat of
the English was complete. Talbot's body, pierced with wounds,
was left on the field of battle. He was so disfigured that, when
the dead were removed, he was not recognized. Notice, however,
was taken of an old man wearing a cuirass covered with red velvet ;
this, it was presumed, was he ; and he was placed upon a shield
and carried into the camp. An English herald came with a request
that he might look for Lord Talbot's body. " Would you know
him ?" he was asked. " Take me to see him," joyfully answered
the poor servant, thinking that his master was a prisoner and
alive. When he saw him, he hesitated to identify him; he knelt
down, put his finger in the mouth of the corpse and recognized
Talbot by the loss of a molar tooth. Throwing off* immediately
392 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [Ohap.XXIV.
his coat-of-arms with the colours and bearings of Talbot, ** Ah 1
my lord and master," he cried, "can this be verily you? May
Grod forgive your sins 1 For forty years and more I have been
your officer-at-arms and worn your livery, and thus I give it back
to you 1" And he covered with his coat-of-arms the stark-stripped
body of the old hero.
The English being beaten and Talbot dead, Castillon surren-
dered; and at unequal intervals Liboume, St. Emilion, Gh&teau-
Neuf de M^doc, Blanquefort, St. Macaire, Cadillac, &c., followed
the example. At the commencement of October, 1453, Bordeaux
alone was still holding out. The promoters of the insurrection
which had been concerted with the English, amongst others sires
de Duras and de Lesparre, protracted the resistance rather in their
own self-defence than in response to the wishes of the population;
the king's artillery threatened the place by land, and by sea a
king's fleet from Rochelle and the ports of Brittany blockaded the
Gironde. " The majority of the king's officers," says the contem-
porary historian, Thomas Basin, " advised him to punish by at
least the destruction of their walls the Bordelese who had recalled
the BngUsh to their city; but Charles, more mercifiil and more
soft-hearted, refused." He confined himself to withdrawing fi'om
Bordeaux her municipal privileges which, however, she soon par-
tially recovered, and to imposing upon her a fine of a hundred
thousand gold crowns, afterwards reduced to thirty thousand;
he caused to be built at the expense of the city two fortresses, the
fort of the Ha and the castle of Trompette, to keep in check so
bold and fickle a population ; and an amnesty was proclaimed for
all but twenty specified persons who were banished. On these
conditions the capitulation was concluded and signed on the 17th
of October; the English re-embarked; and Charles, without
entering Bordeaux, returned to Touraine. The English had no
longer any possession in France but Calais and Guines ; the Hun-
dred Years' War was over.
And to whom was the glory ?
Charles VII. himself decided the question. When in 1455,
twenty-four years after the death of Joan of Arc, he at Rome and
at Rouen prosecuted her claims for restoration of character and
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 893
did for her fame and her memory all that was still possible, he
was but relieving his conscience from a load of ingratitude and
remorse which in general weighs but hghtly upon men and espe-
cially upon kings ; and he was discharging towards the maid of
Domr^my the debt due by France and the French kingship when
he thus proclaimed that to Joan above all they owed their deli-
verance and their independence. Before men and before God
Charles was justified in so thinking ; the moral are not the sole,
but they are the most powerful forces which decide the fates of
people ; and Joan had roused the feelings of the soul and given
to the struggles between France and England its religious and
national character. At Rheims, when she repaired thither for the
king's coronation, she said of her own banner : " It has a right to
the honour for it has been at the pains." She, first amongst all,
had a right to the glory, for she had been the first to contribute to
the success.
Next to Joan of Arc, the constable De Richemont was the most
effective and the most glorious amongst the liberators of France
and of the king. He was a strict and stem warrior, unscrupulous
and pitiless towards his enemies, especially towards such as he
despised, severe in regard to himself, dignified in his manners,
never guilty of swearing himself and punishing swearing as a
breach of discipline amongst the troops placed under his orders.
Like a true patriot and royaUst he had more at heart his duty
towards France and the king than he had his own personal
interests. He was fond of war and conducted it bravely and
skilfully without rashness but without timidity : " Wherever the
constable is," said Charles VII., "there I am free from anxiety;
he wiU do all that is possible !" He set his title and office of
constable of France above his rank as a great lord; and when,
after the death of his brother, Duke Peter II., he himself became
duke of Brittany, he always had the constable's sword carried
before him, saying, " I wish to honour in my old age a function
which did me honour in my youth." His good services were not
confined to the wars of his time; he was one of the principal
reformers of the military system in France by the substitution of
regular troops for feudal service. He has not obtained, it is to be
394 HISTORY OP PRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
feared, in the history of the fifteenth century, the place which
properly belongs to him.
Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and marshals De Boussac and De
La Fayette were, under Charles VII., brilliant warriors and usefiil
servants of the king and of France ; but, in spite of their knightly
renown, it is questionable if they can be reckoned, like the con-
stable De Richemont, amongst the liberators of national indepen-
dence. There are degrees of glory, and it is the duty of history
not to distribute it too readily and as it were by handfuls.
Besides all these warriors, we meet, under the sway of Charles
VII., at first in a humble capacity and afterwards at his court, in
his diplomatic service and sometimes in his closest confidence, a
man of quite a difibrent origin and quite another profession, but
one who nevertheless acquired by peaceful toil great riches and
great influence, both brought to a melancholy termination by a con-
viction and a consequent ruin from which at the approach of old
age he was still striving to recover by means of fi'esh ventures.
Jacques CoBur was born at Bourges at the close of the fourteenth
century. His father was a furrier, already sufficiently well esta-
blished and sufficiently rich to allow of his son's manying, in 1418,
the provost's daughter of his own city. Some years afterwards
Jacques Coeur underwent a troublesome trial for infi'action of the
rules touching the coinage of money; but thanks to a conmiutation
of the penalty, graciously accorded by Charles VII., he got off with
a fine, and from that time forward directed all his energies towards
commerce. In 1432, a squire in the service of the duke of Bur-
gundy was travelling in the Holy Land and met him at Damascus
''in company with several Venetians, Genoese, Florentine, and
Catalan traders " with whom he was doing business. " He was,"
says his contemporary, Thomas Basin, " a man unlettered and of
plebeian family, but of great and ingenious mind, well versed in the
practical affairs of that age. He was the first in all France to
build and man ships which transported to Africa and the East
woollen stuffs and other produce of the kingdom, penetrated as far
as Egypt, and brought back with them silken stuffs and all manner
of spices which they distributed not only in France, but in Catalonia
and the neighbouring countries, whereas heretofore it was by
I I
ill.
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED YEAHS' WAR. 897
means of the Venetians, the Genoese, or the Barcelonese that siich
supplies found their way into France." Jacques Coeur, tempora-
rily established at Montpellier, became a great and a celebrated mer-
chant. In 14?33 Charles VII. put into his hands the direction of the
mint at Paris, and began to take his advice as to the administration
of the crown's finances. In 1440 he was appointed moneyman to
the king, ennobled together with his wife and children,. commissioned
soon afterwards to draw up new regulations for the manufacture
of cloth at Bourges, and invested on his own private account with
numerous commercial privileges. He had already at this period, it
was said, three hundred manufacturing hands in his employment,
and he was working at the same time silver, lead, and copper mines
situated in the environs of Tarare and Lyons. Between 1442 and
1446 he had one of his nephews sent as ambassador to Egypt, and
obtained for the French consuls in the Levant the same advantages
as were enjoyed by those of the most favoured nations. Not only
his favour in the eyes of the king but his administrative and even his
political appointments went on constantly increasing. Between 1444
and 1446 the king several times named him one of his commissioners
to the estates of Languedoc and for the installation of the new
parliament of Toulouse. In 1446 he formed one of an embassy
sent to Italy to try and acquire for France the possession of Genoa,
which was harassed by civil dissensions. In 1447 he received
from Charles VII. a still more important commission, to bring
about an arrangement between the two popes elected, one under
the name of Felix V., and the other under that of Nicolas V. ; and
he was successful. His immense wealth greatly contributed to his
influence. M. Pierre Clement [Jacques Coeur et Cliarles VILj ou la
France au quinzieme siecle ; t. ii., pp. 1 — 46] has given a list of
thirty-two estates and lordships which Jacques Coeur had bought
either in Berry or in the neighbouring provinces. He possessed,
besides, four mansions and two hostels at Lyons; mansions at
Beaucaire, at Beziers, at St. Pouryain, at Marseilles, and at Mont-
pellier ; and he had built, for his own residence, at Bourges, the
celebrated hostel which still exists as an admirable model of Gothic
and national art in the fifteenth century attempting combination
with the art of Italian renaissance. M. Clement, in his table of
398 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIT.
Jacques Coeur's wealth, does not count either the mines which he
worked at various spots in France, nor the vast capital, unknown,
which he turned to profit in his commercial enterprises ; but, on
the other hand, he names, with certain et ceterasj forty-two tcourt-
personages or king's officers indebted to Jacques Coeur for large or
small sums he had lent them. We will quote but two instances of
Jacques Cceur's financial connexion, not with courtiers, however,
but with the royal family and the king himself. Margaret of
Scotland, wife of the dauphin, who became Louis XI., wrote
with her own hand on the 20th of July, 1445: "We, Margaret,
dauphiness of Viennois, do acknowledge to have received from
Master Stephen Petit, secretary of my lord the king and receiver-
general of his finances for Languedoc and Guienne, two thousand
livres of Tours, to us given by my said lord, and to us advanced by
the hands of Jacques Coeur, his moneyman, we being but lately in
Lorraine, for to get silken stuflF and sables to make robes for our
person.'' In 1449, when Charles VII. determined to drive the
English from Normandy, his treasury was exhausted, and he had
recourse to Jacques Coeur. " Sir," said the trader to the king,
" what I have is yours," and lent him two hundred thousand
crowns ; " the effect of which was," says Jacques Duclerq, " that
during this conquest all the men-at-arms of the king of France and
all those who were in his service were paid their wages month by
month."
An original document, dated 1450, which exists in the " cabinet
des titres " of the National Library, bears upon it a receipt for
60,000 livres from Jacques Coeur to the king's receiver-general in
Normandy, " in restitution of the like sum lent by me in ready
money to the said lord in the month of August last past, on
occasion of the surrendering to his authority of the towns and
castle of Cherbourg, at that time held by the English, the ancient
enemies of this realm." It was probably a partial repayment of
the two hundred thousand crowns lent by Jacques Coeur to the
king at this juncture, according to all the contemporary chro-
niclers.
Enormous and unexpected wealth excites envy and suspicion at
the same time that it confers influence ; and the envious before
Chai»,xxiv.] the hundred tbabs* wab.
300
long become enemies. Sullen murmurs against Jacques Creur
ii^ere raised in the king's own circle; and tto way in which he had
begun to make his fortune, the coinage of questionable moneji
fumighed some specious ground for them. There is too general an
inclination amongst potentates of the earth to give an easy ear to
reasons, good or bad, for dispensing with the gratitude and
respect otherwise due to those who servo them. Charles VII.,
after having long been the patron and debtor of Jacques Coeur, all
at once, in 1451, shared the suspicions aroused against him. To
accusations of grave abuses and malversations in money matters
iras added one of even more importance* Agnes Sorel had died
eighteen months previously [February 9th, 1450] ; and on her
death-bed she had appointed Jacques Ccour one of the three
executors of her will. In July, 1451 , Jacques was at TalUebourg,
in Guyenne, whence he wrok) to his wife that ** he was in as good
case and was as well with the king as ever he had been, whatever
any body might say," Indeed on the 22nd of July Charles VII.
granted him a ** sum of 772 livres of Tours to help him to keep up
his condition and to be more honourably equipped for his service;"
and, nevertheless, on the Slst of JiJy, on the information of two
persons of the court, who accused Jacques Coaur of having poisoned
Agnes Sorel, Charles ordered his arrest and the seizure of his
goods, on which he immediately levied a hundred thousand crowns
for the purposes of the war. Commissioners extraordinary, taken
from amongst the king's grand council, were charged to try him ;
and Charles VII. declaimed, it is said, that "if the said moneyraan
were not found liable to the charge of having poisoned or caused to
be poisoned Agnes Sorel, he threw up and forgave all the other cases
against him/' The accusation of poisoning was soon acknowledged
to be false, and the two informers were condemned as calumniators;
but the trial was nevertheless proceeded with. Jacques Coeur was
accused ** of having sold arms to the infidels, of having coined light
crowTis, of having pressed on board of his vessels, at Montpellier,
several individuals, of whom one had thrown himself into the sea
from desperatiouj and lastly of having appropriated to himself pre^
its made to the king in several towns of Languedoc, and of having
practised in that country ftx?quent exaction, to the prejudice of the
400
HISTORY OP FRANCE,
[C^p. XXIV.
king as well as of his subjects/' After twenty- two montlis of
iraprisonraetit, Jacques Coeur, on tbe 29tli of May, 1453, was
convicted, in the king's name, on divers charges, of which several
entailed a capital penalty; but "whereas Pope Nicholas V. had
issued a rescript and made request in favour of Jacques Ccmuv
aud regard also being had to services received from him^**
Charles VII, spared his Mfe, "on condition that he should pay to
tho king a hundred thousand crowns by way of restitution, three
hundred thousand by way of fine, and should be kept in prison
until the whole claim was satisfied ;'* and the decree ended ai
follows : " We have declared and do declare all the goods of tilt
said Jacques Cceur confiscated to uSj and we have banished and
do banish this Jacques Coeur for ever fi^m this realm, reserving
thoreanent our own good pleasure/'
After having spent nearly three years more in prison^
ported from dungeon to dungeon, Jacques Coeur, thanks to
faithful and zealous affection of a few friends, managed to mc^
firom Beaucaire, to embark at Nice and to reach Rome, wl
Pope Nicholas V. welcomed him with tokens of lively int
Nicholas died shortly afterwards, just when he was preparing an
expedition against the Turks, His successor, Calixtus IIL, carried
out his design and equipped a fleet of sixteen galleys* This fleet
required a commander of energy, resolution^ and celebrity, Jaccjues
CoDur had lived and fought with Dunois, Xaintrailles, La Hire, and
the most valiant French captains ; he was known and popular in
Italy and the Levant ; and tho pope appointed him captain-genend
of the expedition. Charles YIL'a moneyman, ruined, convietedi
and banished from France^ sailed away at the head of tho pope'i
squadron and of some Catalan pirates to carry help against the
Turks to Rhodes* Chios, Lesbos, Lemnos, and the whole Grecian
archipelago. On arriving at Chios in Novemberj 145G, ho feU ill
there, and perceiving his end approaching he wrote to his king '*to
commend to him his children and to beg that, considering the grdst
wealth and honours he had in his time enjoyed in the king*s service,
it might be the king's good pleasure to give something to his cluldren
in order that they, even those of them who were secular, might be
able to live honestly, without coming to want/* He died at Chios
Chap. XXTV.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR.
403
on the 23 th of November, 1456, and, according to the historian
John d'Auton, who had probably lived in the society of Jacques
CcBur's children, "he remamed interred in the church of the
Cordeliers in that islandj at the centre of the choir,"
We have felt bound to represent with some detaU the active and
energetic life, prosperous for a long while and afterwards so
pnevons and hazardous up to its very last day, of this great
French merchant at the close of the middle ages, who was the first
to extend afar in Europe, Africa, and Asia the commercial relations
of France^ and, after the example of the great Italian merchants,
to make an attempt to combine politics with commerce, and to
promote at one and the same time the material interests of his
oouBtry and the influence of his government. There can be no
doubt but that Jacques CcBur was unscrupulous and frequently
Timonary as a man of business ; but, at the same time, he was in-
veDtive, able, and bold, and, whilst pushing his own fortunes to the
utmost, he contributed a great deal to develope, in the ways of
peace, the commercial, industrial, diplomatic, and artistic enter-
prise of France • In his relatione towards his king, Jacques Coeur
Waa to Charles VIL a servant often over-adventurous, slipperyj and
Compromising, but often also useful, fuU of resource, eflScient, and
devoted in the hour of difficulty. Charles VII, was to Jacques
Cceur a selfish and ungrateful patron who contemptuously de-
serted the man whose brains he had sucked, and ruined him
pitilessly after having himself contributed to enrich him unscru-
Jtiiously,
We have now reached the end of events under this long reign ;
^ ttiat remains is to run over the siibstantial resnlts of
Charles VII/s government and the melancholy imbroglios of his
fetter years with his son, the turbulent, tricky, and wickedly able
"Orn-conspirator who was to succeed him under the name of
_ iiouis XI.
W One fact is at the outset to be remarked upon ; it at the first
hlugb appears singular but it admits of easy explanation. In the
I first nineteen years of his reign, from 1423 to 1442, Charles VII.
^k ^ety frequently convoked the states-general, at one time of northern
H fTance or Langue d'oO, at another of southern France or Langue
K ^ud 9.
404 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [Chap. XXIV.
d'oc. Twenty-four such assemblies took place during this period
at Bourges, at Selles in Berry, at Le Puy in Velay, at Meibi-
sur-Yfevre, at Chinon, at Sully-sur-Loire, at Tours, at Orleans, at
Nevers, at Carcassonne, and at different spots in Languedoc. It
was the time of the great war between France on the one side and
England and Burgundy allied on the other, the time of intrigues
incessantly recurring at court, and the time Ukewise of carelessness
and indolence on the part of Charles VII., more devoted to his
pleasures than regardful of his government. He had incessant
need of states-general to supply him with money and men and
support him through the difficulties of his position. But when,
dating from the peace of Arras (September 21, 1435), Charles VIL,
having become reconciled with the duke of Burgundy, was delivered
from civil war and was at grips with none but England alone,
already half beaten by the divine inspiration, the triumph, and the
martyrdom of Joan of Arc, his posture and his behaviour under-
went a rare transformation. Without ceasing to be a coldly selfish
and scandalously licentious king he became a practical, hard-
working, statesmanlike king, jealous and disposed to govern by
himself, but at the same time watchful and skilful in availing him-
self of the able advisers who, whether it were by a happy accident
or by his own choice, were grouped around him. ** He had his
days and hours for dealing with all sorts of men, one hour with
the clergy, another with the nobles, another with foreigners,
another with mechanical folks, armourers, and gunners ; and in
respect of all these persons he had a full remembrance of their
cases and their appointed day. On Monday, Tuesday, and Thurs-
day he worked with the chancellor and got through all claims
connected with justice. On Wednesday he first of all gave audience
to the marshals, captains, and men of war. On the same day he
held a council of finance, independently of another council which
was also held on the same subject every Friday." It was by such
assiduous toil that Charles VII., in concert with his advisers, was
able to take in hand and accomplish, in the military, financial, and
judicial system of the realm, those bold and at the same time
prudent reforms which wrested the country from the state of
disorder, pillage, and general insecurity to which it had been a
Chap. XXIV.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 405
prey, and commenced the era of that great monarchical adminis-
tration which, in spite of many troubles and vicissitudes, was
destined to be during more than three centuries the government
of France. The constable De Richemont and marshal De la
Fayette were in respect of military matters Charles VII.*s principal
advisers ; and it was by their counsel and with their co-operation
that he substituted for feudal service and for the bands of
wandering mercenaries {rcnitiers)^ mustered and maintained by
hap-hazard, a permanent army, regularly levied, provided for,
paid and commanded, and charged with the duty of keeping
order at home and at the same time subserving abroad the
interests and policy of the State. In connexion with and as a
natural consequence of this military system Charles VII. on his
own sole authority established certain permanent imposts with
the object of making up any deficiency in the royal treasury
whilst waiting for a vote of such taxes extraordinary as might
be demanded of the states-general. Jacques Coeur, the two
brothers Bureau, Martin Gouge, Michel Lailler, WilUam Cousinot,
and many other councillors, of burgher origin, laboured zealously
to establish this administrative system, so prompt and freed from
all independent discussion. Weary of wars, irregularities, and
suflTerings, France, in the fifteenth century, asked for nothing but
peace and security ; and so soon as the kingship showed that it had
an intention and was in a condition to provide her with them, the
nation took little or no trouble about political guarantees which as
yet it knew neither how to establish nor how to exercise ; its right
to them was not disputed in principle, they were merely permitted
to fall into desuetude ; and Charles VII., who during the first half
of his reign had twenty-four times assembled the states-general to
ask them for taxes and soldiers, was able in the second to raise
personally both soldiers and taxes without drawing forth any
complaint hardly, save from his contemporary historian, the bishop
of Lisieux, Thomas Basin, who said, "Into such misery and
servitude is fallen the realm of France, heretofore so noble and
free, that all the inhabitants are openly declared by the generals of
finance and their clerks taxable at the will of the king without any
body's daring to murmifr or even ask for mercy.** There is at
406
HISTORY OF FRAKCE.
[Cbap. xxrv-
every juncture, and in all ages of the worlds a certain amount,
though varying very much, of good order, justice, and security,
without which men cannot get on ; and when they lack it either
through the fault of those who govern them or through their own
foult, they seek after it with the bHnd eyes of passion and iH^es^^
ready to accept it^ no matter what power may procure it for the
or what price it may cost them,' Charles VI L was a prince neither
to be respected nor to bo loved, and during many years his reigw
had not been a prosperous one; but "he re-quickened justice which
had been a long while dead,'* says a chronicler devoted to the duke
of Burgundy; "ho put an end to the tyrannies and exactions of
the men-at-arms, and out of an infinity of murderers and robliers
he formed men of resolution and honest life; he made regukr
paths in murderous woods and forests, all roads safe, all towns
peaceful, all nationalities of his kingdom tranquil ; he chastised
the evil and honoured the goodj and he was sparing of human
blood/'
Let it be added, in accordance with contemporary testimony,
that at the same time that ha estabHslied an all but arbitrary rule
in military and financial matters, Charles VII. took care that
*' practical justice, in the case of every individual, was promptly
rendered to poor as weU as rich, to small as well as great; he
forbade all traflBcking in the oflSces of the magistracy, and every
time that a place became vacant in a parliament he nmda no
nomination to it save on the presentations of the court."
Questions of military, financial, and judicial organization were
not the only ones which occupied the government of Charles VI L
He attacked also ecclesiastical questions which were at that period
a subject of passionate discussion in Christian Europe smongsi
the councils of the Church and in the closets of princes. ITii
celebrated ordinance, known by the name of Prmjmatk Sanctum
which Charles VI L issued at Bo urges on the 7th of July, 143i
with the concurrence of a grand national council, laic and eoc
siastical, was directed towards the carrying out, in the in
regulations of the French Church and in the relations either of t-
State with the Church in France or of the Church of France wi
the papacy, of reforms long since desired or dreaded by
Chap. XXIV.] THE. HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 407
different powers and interests. It would be impossible to touch
here upon these diflficult and delicate questions without going far
beyond the limits imposed upon the writer of this history. All
that can be said is that there was no lack of a religious spirit or of
a liberal spirit in the Pragmatic Sanction of Charles VII., and that
the majority of the measures contained in it were adopted with the
approbation of the greater part of the French clergy as well as of
educated laymen in France.
In whatever light it is regarded, the government of Charles VII.
in the latter part of his reign brought him not only in France but
throughout Europe a great deal of fame and power. When he had
driven the English out of his kingdom, he was called Charles the
Victorious ; and when he had introduced into the internal regula-
tions of the State so many important and effective reforms he was
called Charles the WelUserved. " The sense he had by nature,"
says his historian Chastellain, ** had been increased to twice as
much again, in his straitened fortunes, by long constraint and
perilous dangers which sharpened his wits perforce." " He is the
king of kings," was said of him by the doge of Venice, Francis
Foscari, a good judge of policy; "there is no doing without
him."
Nevertheless, at the close, so influential and so tranquil, of his
reign, Charles VII. was in his individual and private life the most
desolate, the most harassed, and the most unhappy man in his
kingdom. In 1442 and 1450 he had lost the two women who had
been, respectively, the most devoted and most useful and the most
delightful and dearest to him, his mother-in-law, Yolande of
Arragon, queen of Sicily, and his favourite, Agnes Sorel. His
avowed intimacy with Agnes and even, independently of her and
after her death, the scandalous licentiousness of his morals had
justly offended his virtuous wife, Mary of Anjou, the only lady of
the royal estabUshment who survived him. She had brought him
twelve children ; and the eldest, the dauphin Louis, after having
from his very youth behaved in a factious, harebrained, turbulent
way towards the king his father, had become at one time an open
rebel, at another a venomous conspirator and a dangerous enemy.
At his birth, in 1423, he had been named Louis in remembrance
408 HISTORY OF PBANCB. [Chap. XXIV.
of his ancestor St. Louis and in hopes that he would resemble him.
In 1440, at seventeen years of age, he allied himself with the great
lords, who were displeased with the new military system established
by Charles VII., and allowed himself to be drawn by them into the
transient rebellion known by the name of Prdguery. VHien the
king, having put it down, refused to receive